Page 16 of Good Golly Miss Molly

“I suspect it did, or you’d be in pretty poor shape by now,” she says.

“Logan — I did not make this piece, but I was told what it was designed to do. A glamour to hide your full appearance and muddle the senses of anyone who might do more than just look at you.”

Logan nods.

“That you come to me together gives me a good idea what happened.” She looks at me like a judge handing down a verdict. “Molly — you broke your oath and tried to feed, and since the collar was meant to prevent feeding on humans and the person you tried to feed upon was not human, it ‘shorted-out,’ in human terms. You’ve lost the restraint on your appetites, and if you manage to avoid feeding, you will die.”

Logan clutches my hand.

“Can you fix it? Give her back the ability to abstain and survive?”

“Patience. You’re going to live vastly longer than I will. The least you can do is let me finish.”

I can’t help it. I smirk at him. An immortal with three decades behind him being chastised like an unruly toddler by a twenty-something human witch. Priestess, I correct myself. She is clearly both, but I’ve seen this type of distant, nearly omniscient observation before. It comes from being told things by deities. People mature fast when that happens to them regularly.

“Logan — your charm was intended to hide you from human eyes, ones that would not accept you as you truly are. But then you found yourself another sidhe. And one who accepted you just as you are. You had no need of the charm then, because what you needed more in that moment was to know you could be seen and accepted, loved unconditionally. So it also shorted-out, because Molly needed to see you without your glamour. And you needed to have her see you and make it clear you were loved.”

I don’t know why, after so many years and so many relationships (if tragic ones), I blush at this matter-of-fact observation, but I do. I look over at Logan, and he’s beaming.

Totally worth the red cheeks.

“But I still have to live amongst people who not only may not accept my true appearance but won’t be able to accept that it has changed in a single day.”

“Yes, thatisa problem…”

She doesn’t offer a solution. Logan stays silent this time. Wise man… quick learner.

“So — I take it you want me to set things back the way they were? Logan with his glamour and Molly with a restraint to keep her from feeding and keep her alive despite that?”

“Yes,” we both answer.

“You don’t need it.”

Logan and I exchange a look.

“What do you mean we don’t need it? We wouldn’t be here — wouldn’t have bothered you — if we didn’t need it.”

“Apologies — I mean the latter. You don’t need the latter charm anymore. Logan may still want, need, his glamour. It’s understandable. I wish I could cook one up for myself these days,” she admits, gesturing to her face. “But I am not sidhe, and the charm feeds off your nature. Which is why you don’t need your charm, Molly.”

She takes a deep breath, seeming to have reached the limit of her stamina. I reach out to touch her arm in a gesture of support, but she flinches away.

“You are well-intentioned, Molly, which is why you were granted asylum here, despite your troublesome nature. But I beg you not to touch me. My nerves are still repairing themselves, despite considerable effort made to heal me, conventionally and otherwise. I am not as I was, and for that I apologize. I will explain, quickly, so we can get to what must be done.”

I nod.

“Molly does not need the charm because she no longer needs to feed from humans.”

“She’s permanently fixed?”

“She wasn’t broken, Logan. She is as she is supposed to be, as are you, under the glamour, and I would urge you to remember that if you’re to embark on the road you seem to have chosen.”

He nods, truly chastened this time.

“As I was saying… She doesn’t need to feed on humans. Leannán sidhe don’t feed on other sidhe. But you, Logan, aren’t fully sidhe. You had enough time as a human to cement that as part of your nature. Your gift for music spans both sides of your nature, and the creative spark travels with it. But you are also sidhe, and therefore immortal, with limitless life. Your life energy cannot be drained because it is an endless font, the creative spark fueled by your human experience. And that is what a leannán sidhe feeds on.”

“So I’m an all-you-can-eat buffet for leannán sidhe…”

He grins at me, and I can tell he’s not just talking about my required sustenance.

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