Free The Witches of Merribay (The Seaforth Chronicles) by B.J. Smash Page B

tried to block the thoughts out.
    “To answer your question about wards : Wards allow the good in and keep the bad out. A ward can be numerous things, such as a certain tree or charm that's been blessed or enchanted, a red-braided rope—there can be many things. A spirit…a bird…whatever.”
    “What ward do you have?”
    “Wards. I have wards.” He glanced at me. “I have holly trees planted at the gate, in case you haven't noticed. Holly trees are one of the trees connected to the fairies. It's a protective tree. I also have, um…a spirit.” He wheeled ahead of me.
    “A spirit? Really?”
    “Yes, really. I speak only the truth.”
    We'd reached the “dark path of death.” I had named it that for being so unlike the rest of the garden. The old rowan trees’ spindly branches scratched me as I walked by. “Why don't you get rid of that rowan? I think it's dead.” I fell behind him as the path narrowed.
    He spoke loudly over his shoulder . “It is not dead, it's just old. And you never, never fell a rowan tree. It's also connected to the fairies. It would be inglorious bad luck to fell that tree.”
    This was the second time that he' d mentioned fairies. I suppose if there were such things as witches, then why not fairies? Even my great-grandfather Edmund used to talk about fairies in the garden. I thought I'd seen one once, flitting from flower to flower and almost like a butterfly, but it was a white light. Again, I'd blocked that from memory. It hadn't fit inside my shoebox for long.
    “And we also have the Fae . They are human-sized, some even taller. We call them the Regal Folk, the Good Folk, the Wise Ones.”
    Now he was trying to fill me with bull, for sure . “Fairies and Fae? Or rather, Regal Folk? C'mon, Ian. For real?”
    “Yes , for real. Miss Seaforth, I never lie. Take my word for it, they exist. There are the good ones, and the bad ones. Kind of like how humans are, in a way. The bad are Unseelie. The good are the Seelie.”
    “Well, what's the difference between fairies and Fae then?”
    “Fairies are here for nature . They help things grow. The Fae are like cousins—they also tend to nature, but not so much. They have other business to attend. They also watch over the fairies.”
    “Okay …if you say so,” I said.
    We had arrived at the gate . He told me to try and open it. I lifted the latch and pulled. He was telling the truth; I couldn't get it to move.
    He smiled . “Told you so.”
    “Ok ay, I believe you,” I said.
    “You should believe everything I say . I'm quite knowledgeable in many areas.” He wheeled forward and lifted the latch and pulled, while wheeling backward. “See you in a while. If I happen to not be here, Drumm can open the gate.”
    “So, Drumm is allowed to open the gate? But not me?”
    “In time, Miss Seaforth. In time.” He motioned for me to walk out, shutting the gate behind me. “Have fun.”
    I looked back to see him he pull out a cigar, cut the end , and light it. Apparently he would wait for me.
    I walked on for a few moments , and when I didn't see Drumm, I wondered if something had happened to him. Had the old man, Izaill, done something to him?
    Finally, I spotted him walking toward me.
    “Hello,” I said when we met.
    He nodded his head once for a reply.
    Immediately, I brought up the subject of the old man. “That old man. Ian called him Izaill—”
    “Shhhh . Don't say his name too loud.” Drumm scolded me. “He's taken care of for now. I have already informed Izadora of his presence. She is taking care of it as we speak.”
    “ What do you mean, ‘taking care of it’?”
    “She's sending him a message . He won't bother you again—at least he shouldn't.”
    “But he freaked me out an d…Ian said he was dangerous!” I squealed.
    “No harm will come to you, from the likes of him.”
    He stood with his thumbs in his pockets. On his back hung the satchel with the bow and arrows. His turquoise, large almond-shaped eyes were