Page 5 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

He slowed so I could catch up. His grin matched my own. “Home, Lennon Todd. We’re home.”

2

There’s No Place Like Home

The house I’d seen through the trees was modest if I compared it to the last two places I’d lived. A mansion if you dropped it on a lot in Hazelton, Idaho. Two stories tall with a high-pitched roof, the house was covered in periwinkle paint that would have fit in perfectly with the cheerful buildings on the coast. A deep porch ran along all sides and was littered with mismatched chairs and benches, and a long white swing wide enough to seat four people.

The trees and shrubbery acted as a protective wall around the place and allowed enough room between it and the house for a view of the flower bushes and enough parking for a dozen cars. But each bush seemed to lean toward the building as if nature were eager to take over the place. Even the trees tilted slightly toward the roof, but I couldn’t say whether they were guarding or menacing.

Three cars were parked along the far side, hidden in the early morning shadows of the house.

“I take it you don’t live alone?”

Griffon scowled slightly, confused. Then his brow cleared and he laughed. “When I said home, I meant…this is my mother’s home.”

I was instantly nervous and began second guessing my wardrobe choices. I’d had no time at all to decide what to wear. It hadn’t mattered when I thought I was headed to my death. Now, I looked like a vaguely human-shaped laundry basket. I hadn’t even brushed my hair!

He pulled my hands away from my head and gave them a squeeze. “You look like you’ve been hurtling through the sky. She’ll expect nothing less.”

“Great.” I rolled my eyes. “You fly a lot of women out to meet Mum, do you?”

He just laughed and hauled me toward the front steps. Halfway to the porch, he stopped and tried to push me behind him. Someone rose from a rocking chair, took a step toward us, then stopped.

Archer.

But now, there weren’t bars between us, and I felt like I’d stumbled onto one of Orion’s monsters and forgotten my silver blade. I tried to soothe myself with the knowledge that Griffon would defend me, as he had in the dungeon, but my panicked heart wouldn’t listen.

“Griffon,” he said, but the voice wasn’t right. And his hair was too light. The jeans and plaid shirt weren’t his usual fancy-monastery style.

“Muddy.”

The man sneered. “That’s Mully, to m’ friends,” he said, then smiled at me. “Colm Mulrooney, but Colm will do fine.” He scowled at Griffon and waited for an introduction. The friendly smile cinched it—he definitely wasn’t Archer.

The screen door flew open and a short rotund woman shot out of the house. “Griffon!” she shouted. “Oh, Griffon!” She rushed right off the edge of the porch and threw herself at him, trusting he could catch her, which he did, after he flung my hand away. “Archer found ye, did he?” She looked over Griffon’s shoulder, obviously looking for Archer, and found me instead. “Here, now.” She pushed out of his arms and he set her on her feet while she eyed me up and down. “Oo’s this, then?”

Her Welsh accent was charming, the way she stretched out all her vowels, giving her words an extra syllable or two.

Griffon retreated a few steps and pulled me up next to him. “Mother, this is…Lucy Morgan.” He gave me a little squeeze at my waist that warned me to go along. “We’re together,” he continued. “She’s from the States. Lucy, this is my mother, Bridie Trahern.”

“Together, is it?” Bridie reached behind her, untied her apron, and after she pulled it from around her neck, tried to straighten her iron-colored curls. She then grabbed my free hand, hauled me up the last two stairs, and wrapped her arms around me, pinning mine to my sides.

Colm watched closely.

“That’s enough, Mother. Don’t frighten her away.” Griffon nodded toward the other man. “What’s he doing here?”

With her apron, she waved dismissively. “He was the only one answerin’ his phooone.”

“You tried to call me?”

“I did. I thought ye must have gotten the message, since ye’ve come. Archer and I decided we need to hold a wake for yer sister. He’s out there trying to find ye.” To me she said, “Welcome to our hooome, lass. Sorry I am to greet ye with a wreath on the dooor, but I’m sure ye’ll take the good with the bad when it’s Griffon ye’re keen on.”

I didn’t understand, though I did notice the black ribbon wreath hanging on the door just inside the screen. I turned to Griffon, hoping he’d explain, but Colm beat him to it.

“Ye see,” he said, “ourDaphne went off the radar months ago, and we’ve just learned she died. Poor Bridie—”

“Lucy knows about Daphne,” Griffon hissed. “Don’t you have somewhere else you need to be?”

The man grinned like a cat with a belly full of canary. “I promised Archer I’d stay until the wake tomorrow. Help yer mother with anytin’ she needs.”

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