Page 32 of Shamrocked
“Slow down a bit,” I gasped. “I want to touch him and see if I feel anything else, but I won’t be able to see.”
Warwick and Ivarr came up on either side of me as I put my hand back on the statue. That way if I fell trotting after Aidan, at least one of them would be able to catch me. But then they lifted me between them and we were all running. I couldn’t see, but I guessed that Keane had signaled them.
Then I felt him. Doran. It was like he reached deep into my stomach, fisted his hand in my intestines, and dragged me straight toward him. I fought the urge to throw up, the sensation was so intense. Someone threw open a door hard enough it crashed back, making me flinch. I let go of the statue but I still couldn’t see much, because we stood inside a dark metal shed. I smelled the gas and oil, just as before, and there were two large lawn tractors, but I didn’t see a seven or eight-foot tall gargoyle anywhere.
“Where is he?” Aidan asked softly, turning around to check me.
The fist in my stomach twisted and jerked down toward my feet, making me groan. I pointed at the ground. “Down. He’s down. There. Somewhere.”
Ivarr and Keane pushed one of the mowers back against the wall and kicked debris aside.
“Here,” Ivarr said, his voice tight with excitement. “There’s a trap door. Move that other tractor back.”
Keane pushed the other mower out of the way and Ivarr lifted a large trap door. Wooden steps led down into a hole in the ground.
“We have to go down there?” Vivi asked, her voice shaky.
Neither of us liked holes in the ground much. I reached out and she took my hand, squeezing tightly. As kids, we’d taken shelter from tornadoes in a dank hole in the ground very much like this one. At least it wasn’t warm enough for the snakes and creepy crawlies to be out.
Ivarr drew the heavy sword and held it in both hands before him. Soft golden light surrounded him in a nimbus and he stepped down into the hole. “It looks like an old storm shelter that they’re using for storage now. It’s piled with junk. Hold on.”
My jaws ached, my teeth clenched together with anxiety. I gripped Vivi’s hand so hard my fingers cramped. My pulse thumped in my head, driving me nuts. It seemed like an eternity before Ivarr’s head popped back up and he held his hand out to me. “Mo stór, your prince awaits.”
My heart leaped. I met Aidan’s gaze, and he nodded, almost smiling, but his eyes were still guarded and reserved. They’d found Doran before—but hadn’t been able to free him. He wouldn’t get his hopes up, only to have them dashed again.
“Keane, go ahead of her. The rest of you, spread out around this building and this hole. If anything tries to seal our exit off, we need you to raise the alarm. It’s our only way out.”
I started down the first step, but Vivi still clutched my hand, and she didn’t budge. Her face was pale, her palm clammy against mine.
“Panic attack,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Give me a sec.”
I looked around for her biker guy. “Hammer, right? Yeah. Please take care of her.”
“No, Ri—”
I firmly placed her hand into Hammer’s and let go. “There’s no reason for you to suffer a panic attack. This is my fight. Stay up here and stay safe.”
I took a deep breath and went down after Ivarr, clutching his hand. Aidan and Warwick followed, the leprechaun’s green magic spinning jewels through Ivarr’s golden light. Broken planks lined the earthen walls, with sloped shelves still holding mason jars coated in dust so thick they had to have been left here for decades. Someone’s old root cellar, no doubt, and the summer’s canning haul preserved forever. A jumble of broken furniture was stacked around the perimeter. The smell of dust and decay made my nose itch.
In the center of the cellar stood something twice as tall as me, covered in a dusty canvas. My heart pounded. It was the right size from my paintings. Keane and Warwick took a corner of canvas and pulled it back carefully, trying not to sling dust everywhere.
I gasped. A soft sound of recognition. The same fierce glare, busted nose, straining shoulders, and clawed feet from my dreams. His wings were tucked around him like a cloak. Even hunched down, he was still a foot taller than Aidan, and twice as wide. I stumbled forward and reached up to touch his face.
Cold, hard stone without a hint of life.
Tears spilled from my eyes. “What have you tried in the past, so I don’t waste our time?”
Aidan grimaced. “Everything.”
“You’re the key,” Keane added. “That’s all we know. The treasurekeeper was the trap, and the treasurekeeper is the key to unlocking it.”
“Don’t think I’m weird, okay?” Aidan’s eyebrows arched but he only nodded, silent as I touched the statue. I laid both hands on the gargoyle. I touched his nose. His face. Ran my hands across his shoulders. I pressed both hands over his heart—at least where I guessed it would be—and closed my eyes, willing him to come to life. Willing him to breathe. Move. Anything.
Nothing.
I stretched up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his jawline. Aidan gave me a boost up so I could kiss the cold, stone lips. But my stone prince still didn’t come to life.
“What about blood?” I asked as he set me down.
