Remnants of Magic (The Sidhe Collection (Urban Fantasy)) by Ravynheart S. & Archer S.A

Author:Ravynheart, S. & Archer, S.A. [Ravynheart, S.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Ravynheart Publishing
Published: 2013-03-05T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Waiting around in the vain hope that Lugh would return, and not in a homicidal mood, wasn’t London’s style. Not when Joe’s offer to get her in good with his patron was still on the table. He’d set up the transportation and paid the admission in advance. All she had to do was show up on time to take the speedboat ride over to the Isle of Man and accept the keys to the rental car he’d prepared for her. The man was a professional, no doubt about it.

By early evening, London was wandering between the circle of roughly broken stones of Cashtal Yn Ard at the top of a rounded hill. From here she could see the Irish Sea a little ways to the east. More rolling hills cascaded around them, peaceful and clean looking. The sky seemed huge from here, with the clouds arching overhead in the vivid blue sky. The breeze carried the hint of the sharp sea scent that mingled with the open, green smells of the hills. With the ancient and weathered stones of the site guarding the circle, London imagined that she could feel the reverence of this place. As if she could feel the very spirits of her own ancestors around her. For someone like Riley, who meant to evoke those very feelings in his followers, a place like Cashtal Yn Ard made the perfect venue.

Even with the five hundred Euro price tag, a good thirty or so people milled about the stones, waiting for Riley to begin his presentation. While others absorbed the ambiance of the place, Riley himself worked the crowd, greeting his followers like old mates, pumping hands and kissing cheeks like a politician. London lingered to the side, feigning interest in the texture weathered into the limestone slab jutting up from the ground like a spearhead.

Joe arrived separately. At first London hadn’t recognized him. Somehow he didn’t seem at all out of place with his scuffed up hiking boots, khaki field shorts, and the threadbare button-down shirt. On a leather cord around his neck he wore a small collection of mystical tokens: an arrowhead, a quartz crystal, a seashell, some kind of old coin, and a couple different pewter pendants of Celtic crosses and pentagrams. The messy hair and stubble completed his look, which implied that he was too preoccupied with his inward spiritual journey to take much notice of his outward appearance. Joe toted a couple camera bags with their straps crisscrossing his chest. Those, along with the expensive camera he used, transformed him neatly into the image of a professional photographer. Now and then Riley posed for a shot, though he tried to make it look natural, just pausing mid-motion until he heard the snap.

London’s own choice of clothing stemmed from studying Riley’s website. He did like the ladies, especially the ones that had a fey-look, so London crafted her make-up to give her cheekbones a sharper appearance and used eyeliner and false eyelashes to make her eyes appear slightly larger.

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