The Gazing Globe (5 page)

Afton placed a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice on the table, along with a plate of cheese. Then she opened the refrigerator and pulled out an appetizing bowl of freshly cut fruit.

Blain continued to watch the other three people. When they talked, they were congenial, but he had the impression there was some secret scheme going on to which he wasn't supposed to be a party. And it wasn't even being cleverly hidden. There were little, furtive looks and gestures that couldn't possibly be normal.

"Okay. What's up?" he finally asked.

Shayla, Hugh andAftonstopped what they were doing and looked at him.

"Whatever are you talking about?" Hugh asked.

Blain let out a frustrated sigh, shook his head and shot them each a suspicious glance. "I'm gonna eat my breakfast and go to work. Since I don't have a decoder ring, I'll assume I'm not a member of the club."

Aftonguiltily lowered her gaze and turned away.

Hugh cleared his throat and muttered something unintelligible.

Shayla met Blain's stare, but she said nothing.

"Okay. Whatever you're up to, I guess you'll let me in on it when you're ready. I'm not as clueless as you seem to think. I may be big, but I'm not stupid," Blain advised. He kept his gaze on his coffee cup or plate for the remainder of breakfast. Then he silently got up and left the kitchen.

After she was sure he was gone,Aftonturned to the two older Druids. "I'm sorry. He has a fairy's acuity, even though he hasn't a clue about his heritage. I think all my incessant talking is making him even more suspicious.

"That's all right, my dear," Shayla said, as she thoughtfully rubbed her chin, "That intuition could save his life one day."

***

Hours later, Blain was mending a fence when it dawned on him that he felt better than he had in a long time. The chronic weariness he'd suffered seemed to have abated.

He hammered a nail into a fence post, smiled and began to whistle. As he bent to retrieve another nail, he glanced toward the bundle of poisonous herbs which had been tied with black yarn, a small piece of new rope with knots tied in it, and the little pictograph carved into bark. They lay at his feet, ready to be burned. All the strange objects had been gathered from his early morning inspection of the farm and its surroundings.

Deciding to get on with that chore, he cleared a small space for a fire and threw all the objects into the space. As soon as he put a match to them and the flames began to rise, the illness that lingered with him diminished even more. It was an odd coincidence that left him puzzled and again questioning his sanity.

Finding the superstitious items around his farm was odd, but this wasNew England. There were folk living here who still believed in the power of hexes, omens and the like. It did bother him, however, that the stuff was on his property and near his work area. When he went out at night again, he'd make sure to keep a wary eye out for trespassers.

He turned to pull off a broken fence rail and sawAftonapproaching. He could hardly miss her, and he felt his eyes widen in surprise. There was a cow, her calf and two sheep following the woman. He grinned as the thought of the Pied Piper came to mind. And what a pretty piper she made. The sun lit her up even brighter, if that was possible. Just like a sunflower.

"What's going on?" Blain asked, thinking she had some kind of animal food in the basket she carried.

Why else would the livestock be following her like a litter of puppies?

"I brought you some lunch. It's pastmidday, and when you didn't come back to the house, I thought you'd be hungry." She flashed a brilliant smile at him, and he readily responded by smiling back.

He watched as she put the basket on the tailgate of his truck and pulled out some sandwiches. His mouth was already watering. "I'm starved, and you didn't have to do this, you know."

"I don't mind. Besides, walking out here gave me an excuse to see more of the farm. You have the most lovely animals. They're very well cared for." She stopped and stared at the small fire.

When Blain saw her gaze linger on the flames and their fuel, he watched her closely.

"What's that for?" She pointed at the contained fire pit.

"Just burning some trash. You know. Vines, rotting wood. Things that will catch fire if I don't keep them picked up."

Afton chewed on her lower lip as she saw the last of the hex mark, carved into oak bark, burn away.

She took a deep breath and tried not to show the fear she felt.

Blain knew the woman had either seen something like what he was burning, or she'd been told what the objects meant. "What's wrong,Afton? It's just a fire."

She immediately took her eyes off the small blaze and stared at him.

"Want to tell me what's going on?" he asked and pulled off his work gloves.

"W-what are you talking about?" she responded, and he heard the fear in her voice.

Blain took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Clearly, she didn't want to talk about what she'd seen in the fire. He began to understand what a cop must feel like at the scene of a crime where no one would say anything. He let the matter drop and turned his attention to the animals surrounding her. "What did you feed them to make them follow you around like this?"

She stared at him, her expression confused.

"The animals,Afton."

She shook her head as if the slight motion could clear it. "Um, nothing. They just followed me. I...I made cucumber and tomato sandwiches. Hugh said you told him your mother used to make them."

Blain looked at her, looked at the sandwich she handed him, then looked at the livestock vying for her attention. It was as if the animals hung on every gesture she made. He took the sandwich, bit into it and knew it was the best he'd ever eaten. There were some unusual herbs in the mayonnaise, and he immediately felt as if his appetite had doubled. He watched as she gently shooed the animals back toward the barn. Though they backed away, the livestock stayed near.

"Go on now. I'll come pet you later," she told them softly and laid a gentle hand on each of their heads.

To Blain's surprise, they turned in unison and began to walk back in the direction from which they'd come. That was really weird. But so far, everything aboutAftonwas a little strange. The same went for her employer, the dauntless Ms. Gallagher. They'd been at the farm less than twenty-four hours, and Blain was certain neither of them was normal.

"Were you raised on a farm?" he asked as he finished off the sandwich.

"I grew up around animals," she said. "I love them. I can tell you do, too."

"You can, huh? How did you figure that out?"

"They're happy and well kept. By the way, when will the foal be born?" she asked as she handed him a cup of lemonade from a thermos.

Blain almost choked. He swallowed the rest of his sandwich with difficulty. His mare wasn't even showing yet. The veterinarian had only just determined she was carrying a foal.

"How did you know that? No one knows about her except me and the vet. Not even Hugh." He watched her closely. His intuition didn't give him any uncomfortable vibes, butAftonO'Malley needed to start answering some questions.

"I told you I grew up around animals. My guess is that she's early along, and she'll probably foal late.

Well, you're very busy, and I should let you get back to work. I promised to help Shayla with something." She smiled, handed him the last of the sandwiches and walked away.

Blain felt as if he'd had a rug pulled out from under him. She knew too much, tried to act like she didn't, and was doing her level best to actually say nothing of consequence. Who was this girl? What was her experience with animals and superstitious objects? He ran a hand through his hair, unable to resume his work until she was out of sight.

***

Aftonhad done exactly as Shayla told her, but it felt like they were moving too fast. Blain's expression had been open and friendly at first. Now, it was down right suspicious. She could sense the man staring at her as she walked away. Like most Druids, she'd always had a close relationship with animals. Shayla had sent her to expose Blain to some of the power her kind had in that regard. However, she couldn't help wondering why the Sorceress didn't just come right out and tell Blain he was half fairy and half Druid, and that a black conjurer was trying to harm him for some unknown reason.

Of course, he wouldn't believe them, and he might even ask them to leave. But that would be better than antagonizing him and playing mind games with the man. He'd probably be wondering about her knowledge of the mare's condition all day long. Like many of the Order, she could sense renewal. New life carried great power. All she'd had to do was lay her hand upon the mare's flank to feel the tiny life growing inside.

The worst part of leading the animals around and mentioning the foal was that Blain would think the incident was completely abnormal. And she was pretty certain she hadn't been able to hide her surprise at having caught him burning some evil talismans. His sense of disturbance would be aimed at her, and she didn't want his disapproval. She wanted him to trust her and consider her a friend.

"Who am I kidding," she quietly mused. "He's gorgeous, and I want him. Period." But she knew he didn't share her feelings. When she'd walked away from him, she'd felt like she had a target on her back.

He might never trust her.

***

After driving back to the farmhouse, Blain stopped to put away some tools in a nearby shed. A movement in the woods caught his attention. He crept around the shed in hopes of catching whoever had been sneaking around on his land and leaving strange objects. What he saw amazed him. He ducked behind some blueberry bushes and watched Shayla Gallagher gathering wild herbs and putting them in a basket. She was dressed in some kind of long white robe. The same kind he'd imaginedAftonwearing when they'd been introduced. Wanting to keep his presence a secret, Blain quietly backed away. As he did so, the older woman turned in his direction. He could almost swear she knew he was present. He continued to back away and quickly left. The incident had him questioning not only his own sanity, but the sanity of those living in his house.

Near supper, he wanted to believe his imagination was working overtime, especially in regards to his guests and all the strange objects he'd found. But he had a sense of weird foreboding that was different from anything he'd known, and the feeling had nothing to do with his physical afflictions. In fact, the illness that had been ravaging him seemed to be gone, but he still felt as if something wasn't right.

Then he found more bundles of herbs on the window sills of the barn and several more on the sills of the house. He wasn't sure who had put them there or why, but the herbs in these new bundles weren't poisonous, as previous bundles had been. They weren't hemlock or stinging nettle. Instead, harmless yarrow and mint had been bundled with lavender and rosemary.

But even though they were harmless, Blain decided that if someone didn't come clean about the shenanigans soon, all hell was going to break loose. He was getting tired of it, and he began to attribute his fear of the future to finding all the odd little bits of superstitious paraphernalia. The problem was, some of what he found was old and dried up, and some of it was fresh. It was impossible to tell how long the stuff had been laying around, so he couldn't come out and accuse his visitors or Hugh about something so odd.

So while the others ate supper and made small talk, he answered when spoken to but kept his eyes on them. If he concentrated hard, he could imagine that he knew what they felt. But if that was true, he was worrying over nothing because everything he imagined he felt about them was non-threatening.

When everyone decided to turn in early, he remained outside on the porch. If he had any sense, he'd go to bed and get some sleep. But a restless urge hit him. The moon was full and the night was young. He decided to go into town, knowing where the trip would take him. Rhiannon. He felt a kind of pull, as if something beckoned him to her.

When he drove up in front of the antique shop and parked, he saw the lights were on upstairs. He made his way up the steps to the side entrance. The wooden frame creaked as he ascended. Before his fist could even make contact with the door, Rhiannon opened it.

"Darling, what a wonderful surprise. I thought I wouldn't see you until later this week." Rhiannon pulled him into the apartment, slammed the door behind him and threw her arms around his neck.

The kiss they shared started slowly.

But Blain abruptly ended it. Where the touch of her lips had once been sweet, they now seemed sour.

With all the makeup she wore, she looked a little harsh instead of alluring and sophisticated as he'd once thought her to be. And suddenly, there was something dark, almost seedy about her. He stared at her longer than he normally would have, and she seemed to notice some change in him. Her expression altered, going from open lust to a thoughtful, pensive stare.

"You feel tense," she said as she began to massage his shoulders. "What's wrong, darling?"

"Nothing's wrong. It's just that Hugh's friends showed up yesterday, and they're the strangest couple of women you'd ever want to meet."

"Tell me about them." She continued to rub his shoulders.

He moved away from her so that he was slightly out of reach. Something inside him—an unknown warning—made him want to back away from her touch. He attributed his attitude change toward Rhiannon to the new people in his life whose actions had his nerves on edge. Without warning, the old tingling that usually proceeded a bout of nausea rushed over his skin. It was almost as if he'd developed a sudden aversion to being too close to Rhiannon.

Recalling she'd asked him to tell her about his visitors, he said, "There's an older woman, Shayla. Hugh says she's some kind of cultural expert, but she wears weird clothing while looking for wild herbs in the woods. Then there'sAfton."

Blain stopped. What could he say aboutAftonthat wouldn't sound absolutely ridiculous? And why didn't he want to talk aboutAftonwith Rhiannon? Something inside him didn't want to have the women associated with one another, not even in a conversation.