Isle of the Faeries

The Hourglass Begins to Tip

The original version of this chapter is actually trapped on my old laptop, apparently when I moved this story over I missed it. So I rewrote it but I'm completely happy with how it turned out. Anyway, we're really starting to build up to the climax :)

Kean

      I rub my eyes, they are starting to blur from staring at the computer screen for so long but I am almost done with the riding schedules for the next two weeks, the breeding schedule for the next month and arranging transport for several of the sold horses. A frantic knocking at my door captures my attention, with a sigh I heave myself up and open it. At the sight of Ryley's bloody hands my mind jumps to Bedlam, however his face doesn't look as distraught as it did that day, in fact he looks more puzzled than anything else.

      "There's – there's something odd in the courtyard that you might want to see," he tells me his brow furrowed.

      I follow him out to the court yard to find the mangled body of a sheep in the center of the courtyard, wool turned pink from the blood seeping out of it and onto the cobbles. Its tag is still attached to its ear, the words Rowan Farm 161 is still legible. I know at once why this carcass is here and who put it here it is a message for me and I understand it clearly though it chills my blood.

      Most of the animal has been torn away, I pull my sweatshirt over my head and wrap what is left of the sheep in it. Lifting the animal I bring it to my office to make a phone call.

      Declan picks up on the third ring, "MacFarlane's Grocery Declan speaking."

      "Hey, this is Kean Donoghue," I told him unsure of how to tell him what had happened.

      "Kean, what can I do for you?" he asks before his voice takes on a tone of concern, "Is Breena okay? Is something wrong?"

      "Breena is fine," I assure him wincing slightly, it isn't a lie exactly, but it's not really the truth either, "but we do have a small problem, I found one of your sheep on Allard's property," I tell him.

      "Oh, that's weird, I can swing by after work and pick it up," he offered.

      My face falls into my hand, "I'm not really sure if you want it back, it's kind of in," I pause searching for a word, "pieces."

      "Oh," he managed, "does it still have a tag? What number is it?"

      "161," I tell him, "it looks like one of the Fey got it.

      "Damn, one of the yearlings, would you mind burying it there? I don't want to bring it home dead, Fiona would lose her mind," he says.

      "Yeah, no problem, I just wanted to let you know what happened." He thanks me again and hangs up leaving me with half a dead sheep on my desk soaking my sweatshirt with blood. I drop into my chair heavily and let my head fall into my hands with a small groan. A throat clearing alerts me to the fact that Dunkin has entered my office regardless of my locked door.

      "Bad day?" he asks leaning against a shelf of Fey charms which strikes me as rather ironic.

      I sigh, "When isn't it a bad day." I straighten up, roll my shoulders - the injury is healing but it's still stiff and sore - I stand and glance at the bloody bundle on my desk. If I don't bury it no one will so I pick up the bundle and head for the door ignoring Dunkin who follows me out the door. I grab a shovel and head for the back paddocks, even though I cannot hear him I can sense Dunkin behind me, I can feel the power rippling off him.