Ardal (The Sabbats)

Chapter Two

Monday, October 28 th .

High Mountain. West Virginia.

Excited by the pending trip to New Orleans, Ardal took Gilly’s advice and decided to go a couple of days early for Misty’s party.

He hadn’t decided where he’d stay when he got to N’Orleans, but something would come to him. He could always stay with Angelique in the bayou and then transport back and forth to the city.

It only took a minute.

“I’m not going anywhere near Bobo’s landing. I can’t risk seeing Rowan. She’s dead but I’ll still be able to see her, and I won’t be able to stand it. She cheated on me with Sonny Hart—her own sister’s husband. I’ll never forgive her or get over it.”

Feeling renewed pain in his heart, Ardal set his suitcase down. “Maybe I shouldn’t go at all. I could be making a huge mistake.”

Staring at the door he was about to go out, his cell rang. There were no cell towers on the mountain, so the call had to be coming to him magickally.

“Misty? I got your invitation. Lovely calligraphy. You have a gift.”

“Thank you, sugar. You are coming, aren’t you? I felt a twinge of doubt coming from you only a moment ago, and thought I’d better call and confirm. I’m not on my best behavior when I have negative responses to my invitations. My guests are not chosen randomly, but I’m sure you realize that.”

“I do, and I’m honored to be invited. I’m definitely coming, Misty. I’m ready to leave now.”

“Stay at my place. I’m sending Angelique to cook for you. Chose any one of the guestrooms.”

“Thank you, that’s very generous of you.”

Misty laughed. “Not at all. It’s not like I’ll be doing any of the work myself.”

Ardal joined in her laughter.

“Be sure to check out the nightlife downtown if you’re looking for a plus one. The Spotted Dog is one of my favorites. Full of supremely fascinating people. I’m sure you’ll meet someone there who will pique your interest.”

“I’m not too receptive to romantic vibes, Misty. I used to be, but I’ve matured a lot in the past year.”

Misty laughed. “Settle in at my house and then spend the evening downtown prospecting. I want you to have a date for my party.”

“Is Daddy coming?”

“Of course he is. You’ll be amazed by the guest list. I’ve had an overwhelming positive response already.”

“Everyone is afraid to turn you down,” said Ardal, and then he laughed.

“That is so funny, and yet steeped in truth. I’m coming tomorrow to prepare, so I’ll see you then.”

“I’m looking forward to it. I love our nice long talks.”

Ardal put his phone in his pocket, pictured Misty’s house in N’Orleans in his mind as he stepped outside. He held his bag in one hand and Rosita’s leash in the other and that’s exactly the way they appeared at Misty’s back gate a moment later.

Nine Saint Gillian Street. New Orleans.

Ardal Trehan walked through the creaky back gate that opened for him under its own power and jumped when Angelique stuck her head out the kitchen window and called to him.

“Ardal, you’re here. Come in, sweetheart. I’m just taking your favorite lemon squares out of the oven. I hoped they’d be done in time for your arrival.”

He came in through the sunroom that ran halfway across the back of Misty’s old Victorian mansion. The floorboards creaked and warned the old house of a visitor approaching.

The back door squeaked open before Ardal touched the handle, and he thanked the house for the welcome.

“It smells so good in here, Angelique.”

He dropped his bag at the bottom of the steps in the front hall and returned to the kitchen at the back of the house.

Angelique was hugging Rosita and giving her a treat when Ardal sat down at the long black worktable that had been in Misty’s kitchen for as long as he’d known her.

A flash of red hair and Rowanne, Misty’s niece, literally flew across the kitchen and put a monogrammed placemat and matching napkin in front of him.

“Rowanne, I didn’t know you would be here.”

“I drove Angelique up from the bayou. Pete and Ben took the dog for a walk. Did you see them in the back lane?”

“No. There wasn’t a soul out there.”

“I hope they didn’t go too far,” said Rowanne.

“Ben will watch out for Pete,” said Ardal.

Rowanne laughed. “Sometimes it’s the other way around, Ardal. Pete keeps an eye on Ben. Ben can see a squirrel or a rabbit and run off. He often loses his sense of direction when he’s running in the dark.”

“That could easily happen,” said Ardal. “I never let Helga hunt at night without me.”

Angelique put a cup of hot cider on the placemat in front of Ardal and gave him a cinnamon stir stick.

“Thank you. You make the best homemade cider I’ve ever had.”

“Years of practice, Ardal. I’m getting older now and I’m thinking of staying in the bayou and not leaving anymore. Dis might be one of my last trips to N’Orleans.”

Ardal grinned. “If it is, we should go out and celebrate. I haven’t been here for a long time either. Not since all that fussing and killing with Rufin and his family.” Ardal winced remembering the scene on Laurel Street.

So much blood.

“You are da one who needs to go out and find yourself a beautiful witch, Ardal. It’s time for you to start a family. I don’t need to find anybody. Mac and Luc are grown men now and have lives of their own.”

“I promised Misty I would go downtown tonight and hunt for a plus one at the Spotted Dog. She wants me to have a date for the party.”

“That should be fun, Ardal,” said Rowanne. “Ben and I hardly ever go out to a bar anymore.” She thought for a moment. “Maybe we never did. We were in our teens when we became a couple. I’m not sure Ben has ever been in a bar. He hates beer and never drinks alcohol. He only drinks water and prefers to drink from a pond, a lake or a river.”

The back door opened, and Pete ran in with Nexa in front of him and Ben right behind him. “Ardal, you’re here already,” said Ben. “Do you want to go to the farmer’s market and buy the pumpkins for Misty?”

“Sure. Are we in charge of the pumpkins?”

Rowanne nodded and her red hair sparked as she moved. “Yes, Ben is in charge of the pumpkins, the cornstalks and chopping the wood for the bonfire.”

“I can help him chop wood,” said Ardal. “We should get on it, then, Ben. Misty said she’d be here tomorrow, and she’ll be checking up on us to see if our tasks have been completed.”

“Drive my car, Ardal,” said Rowanne. “It’s in the back lane.” She tossed him the keys.

“I didn’t see it when I transported,” said Ardal.

“I had an invisibility spell on it,” said Rowanne. “I didn’t want it to be stolen. That was my dad’s Caddy, and I want to keep it forever. Mundane people steal vintage cars. It’s a thing with them.”

“Huh,” said Ardal. “I didn’t know that. Of course I don’t know much about vintage cars. I drive the Jeep Gillette bought me. Prudent idea using the invisibility spell, Row. Much quieter than one of those noisy security alarms.”

She giggled. “I have a good idea once in a while.”

Farmer’s Market. Garden District. New Orleans.

Ardal laughed as he drove Rowanne’s old baby blue Cadillac downtown to the Farmer’s Market. “This old relic is huge, Ben. I feel like I’m taking up more than my half of the street.”

“I’m not good at driving,” said Ben. “Rowanne let me drive her car once and I crashed into Dead Rudy’s crab shack next door when I was practicing. It’s better if I don’t try.”

Ardal laughed and so did Pete.

“Rowanne gets so mad when marks get on the car,” said Ben, “and when she gets mad, things catch fire all around her.”

“That’s a hazard, Ben,” said Ardal. “You have to be careful when you possess the power of fire like Rowanne does.”

“Do you have that power, Ardal?” asked Pete from the back seat.

“No, I don’t. I can cast a fire spell if I need to, but fire doesn’t fly out of me willy-nilly like it flies out of your mother. She’s special. I think I remember Misty telling me that the Fae gave that power to Rowanne at Beltane one year a while ago.”

“Oh, look at all the people,” said Ben. “We’ll never find a place to park.”

Ardal drove into the parking lot and saw several spots but none of them big enough for the Caddy. “I’ll have to move a couple of cars closer together to make a spot for us.”

He leaned his arm out the window and finger-waved two cars closer together. “Looks like a spot just opened up.” Chuckling, he pulled the Caddy into the wide spot and shut off the engine.

“Let’s go do our shopping, boys.” Strolling around in the huge crowd, Ardal asked, “What do you want to buy first, Ben?”

“Let’s get the pumpkins first.”

Ardal led the way to the pumpkin vendors and there were several of them. It seemed each pumpkin stall was manned by a pretty young girl wearing a big smile. A great way to attract customers.

“How many are we supposed to buy, Ben?”

“Umm…some for decoration and some for the pumpkin carving contest,” said Ben. “We need one for each guest.”

“Jeeze,” said Ardal. “Did Misty mention how many people are invited to the party?”

“Nope. She didn’t tell me.”

“How about you, Pete? Did you hear a number?”

“Nope.”

Ardal pulled out his cell phone and scrolled to Misty’s contact number. Before he could call, a number appeared on the screen.

137

“Wow, that’s going to be a lot of guests at the party. We can’t buy that many pumpkins.”

“How many people are coming?” asked Ben.

“One hundred and thirty-seven.”

“Aw, what an interesting and magickal number,” said Pete. “I’m thinking of being a math teacher.”

“What grade are you in now, Pete?” asked Ardal.

“I’m in third grade.”

“Huh. It’s great to have a plan for your future. I never had one and look where I ended up.”

“Mama said you were a homeless kid on the streets of Austin,” said Pete. “That’s when Gilly found you.”

“Exactly right,” said Ardal. “No plan for my future like you have, Pete. I rolled with the flow and the flow did nothing for me.”

“We can’t get a hundred and thirty-seven pumpkins in the trunk,” said Ben. “That’s impossible. Go for a lower number, Ardal.”

“Let’s buy a dozen and then when Misty comes tomorrow and wants more, we’ll come back and get…”

“A hundred and twenty-five more,” said Pete.

“Wow, you did that subtraction in your head, Pete.” Ardal laughed. “You are a math teacher in the making.” He moved up in the long line waiting for pumpkins and stood in front of the booth where a blonde girl smiled at him.

“Help you pick out your pumpkins, sir?” Name tag said Mary Louise.

“I’d like twelve all different shapes,” said Ardal.

Ben nodded. “The contestants won’t all want the same pumpkin to start.”

“Right.”

“Come with me over here,” said smiley girl. “This bin has some of our most interesting pumpkins.”

“Did you grow these yourself?” asked Ardal.

“My pa did. He’s a pumpkin farmer.”

“Got it. Looks like he harvested a dandy crop this year.”

“One of our best years ever, Daddy said.”

“Ben, choose six and Pete can choose the other six,” said Ardal. “We’ll have to use one of those carts to get them to the car.”

While the boys loaded the pumpkins onto the handcart, Ardal paid the girl, and on his receipt she wrote her phone number.

“I’m not sure if you’re seeing anyone, but I’m giving you my number just in case. You look like a fun guy to me.”

How could she read me so wrong?

“Thanks. I may have a Hallowe’en party to go to. That might be your idea of fun.”

Bigger smile. “A costume party does sound like fun to me. What are you dressing up as?”

Ardal shrugged. “I’m already a witch. I don’t need to dress up.”

Blondie laughed. “You have a great sense of humor too. I hope you call me. I’ll be waiting. What’s your name? I didn’t catch it.”

“I didn’t throw it. It’s Ardal.”

“Hmm…Ardal. That’s a name to think about.”

“Bye, Mary Louise.”

She seemed stunned that Ardal knew her name and he laughed as he sauntered over to where the boys were loading up the twelfth pumpkin.

“You can barely get them all on there, Ben. I hope none of them fall off and smash on the way to the car.”

“You can put invisible sides on the cart, Ardal,” said Pete. “That would do the trick.”

“Good idea, Pete. Let’s get these put away and come back for the cornstalks.”

Ardal mumbled a little spell, pointed at the cart with his pinky and as the cart rolled towards the parking lot, none of them fell off.

“Great idea, Pete. They didn’t get away on us.”

“One for me.” Pete gave himself a thumbs up.

Ardal popped the trunk of the Caddy, and started lifting the pumpkins in. Some were huge and some were medium size. Not a small one in the bunch.

“I told you they wouldn’t fit in the trunk, Ardal.”

“Good call, Ben. They will not all go in the trunk. We’ll have to put at least four in the back seat.”

“Where am I gonna sit?” asked Pete.

“You can squeeze in by the door and we’ll put the cornstalks lengthwise from the back window to the dash.”

“Maybe we should come back for the cornstalks,” said Ben. “They might cause an accident.”

“I realize you’re nervous in the car, Ben, but I’ll be careful. I won’t have an accident because of any cornstalks.”

“Promise. It might be better if I ran home.”

“No,” said Ardal, “that’s not happening. Rowanne would be angry at me if I let you do that. It’s too far and you might get hurt or lost even.”

“If I’m in my fox mode,” said Ben, “I might get shot, but I won’t get hurt or lost. I’m a fast runner and I have a keen sense of direction.”

“You’re coming with me and Pete in the car.” Ardal used his firm voice. “No argument. Let’s go get the cornstalks.”

Ardal got lucky with girl in the cornstalk booth. Wendy Sue. She gave him her number too, and also told him her name. That’s something the first girl didn’t do but she didn’t need to. It was on her nametag on her ample chest for all to see. He’d have to sort the two possibilities out and figure which one he might call. He’d do it when he got back to Misty’s house.

Or before.

“Two possible dates,” said Ben. “Which one did you like best, Ardal? The one with the long dark hair or the blonde girl?”

“Umm…if I had to pick—and I might not—I think I’d call the blondie. Her name is Mary Louise, as per her nametag.”

“Just say’n,” said Pete. “I’m not into dating yet, but I’m an astute observer and blondie didn’t seem too bright. I could probably stump her on a grade three math problem.”

“I noticed that, Pete. She did seem a trifle lower on the IQ scale, but she might be fun for one party. I couldn’t do vapid for a lifetime.”

“Those girls were both mundane, Ardal,” said Ben. “I don’t think either one is right for you. Didn’t Misty say not to bring mundane dates?”

“I think she did. How could I have forgotten? Maybe I’ll have better luck at the Spotted Dog tonight.”

“Not a total waste of time at the market,” said Pete. “You now have two possible non-dates to compare to whatever turns up at the Spotted Dog.”

“You’re right, Pete. And that could be valuable information. Thanks for pointing that out.”

“No problem. I’m quick to solve the problems of those in my class who aren’t as gifted as I am.”

“That must make you incredibly popular,” said Ardal. Then he laughed.

“Sure does.”

Nine Saint Gillian Street. New Orleans.

Ardal parked in the laneway at Misty’s back gate and opened the trunk of the Cadillac. “We’ll have to carry those pumpkins one by one all the way across the garden to the sunroom,” said Ben.

“Not if Ardal conjures up a cart for us,” said Pete.

“Cart with removeable sides coming up,” said Ardal. He swirled his arm in the air and the cart they needed appeared in a puff of pink smoke.

“Hey, Ardal, I loved the smoke,” said Pete. “Nice touch.”

“Thanks, Pete. Load up, boys. I’ll carry the cornstalks and put them in the sunroom until the girls are ready for them.”

“I can put the cornstalks up where Misty likes them,” said Ben. “I’ve done it tons of times before.”

“You go ahead, Ben. I have no idea where Misty would want the cornstalks placed.”

They unloaded the pumpkins onto the magickal cart and Ben pulled it through the garden and parked it next to the back porch.

“I’ll line these up in a straight row according to size,” said Pete. “That way it will be easier for the guests to make their choices.”

“Go ahead and do that, Pete,” said Ben. “I’ll get the axe out of the shed and start chopping wood,”

“Are there two axes, Ben?”

“Nope, but I’m sure you could conjure up one, Ardal.”

“Sure, I can do that, and I’ll give you a hand with the chopping. I chop a lot of wood up on the mountain. I should’ve brought my axe with me, but I didn’t think I’d need it.”

Pete finished lining up the pumpkins, then changed into his red-tailed hawk mode and flew into a tall tree to watch Ben and Ardal chop wood.

After a day of hard work, Ben and Pete were tired as they sat down for dinner with Rowanne, Ardal and Angelique.

Ben rubbed his biceps, sore from swinging the axe.

“I have liniment I made myself that will take the ache out of those sore muscles, Ben,” said Angelique. “I’ll find it for you after dinner.”

“Thanks, Angelique.”

Rowanne laughed. “Once Ben gets chopping, he never wants to stop.”

“What are you going to wear for your girl hunting trip downtown, Ardal?” asked Pete.

Ardal shrugged. “Won’t be much different than what I have on right now, Pete. I don’t have a lot of clothes to pick from.”

“The girls in the clubs downtown won’t be looking at your clothes,” said Rowanne. “They’ll have their eye on other things. Some of them have check-lists on their phones.”

Ardal gave her the stink-eye. “I’m not sure I believe that. What’s on the list?”

“Height, weight, muscle tone, color of your hair, color of your eyes, what you do for a living, and other more private attributes.”

“What’s an attribute, Mama?” asked Pete.

“A positive quality, Pete. Something that attracts the opposite sex.”

“Huh. Will you report your success rate to us in the morning, Ardal?” asked Pete. “I don’t want to lose sight of how this is going for y’all.”

“I may fill you in on some things, Pete. But there may be things I won’t want to pass along. Things that might not be suitable for the third-grade classroom, because I know you’ll be anxious to share.”

Rowanne laughed, “Pete’s favorite day is Wednesday. Show and Tell day. He loves to show off to his classmates.”

“No, I don’t, Mama. I’m not showing off. I try to share my knowledge to improve their minds.”

“Is that what you call it?” Rowanne giggled.

Spotted Dog Club. Downtown New Orleans.

Ardal didn’t bother borrowing Rowanne’s cumbersome Caddy. It was an attention-getter and hard to park. Instead, he transported to Basin Street and reappeared on the corner. From there, he walked through the Storyville Quarter.

The streets were lined with clubs that provided live music and the air was electrically charged by the swarms of tourists wanting a taste of old New Orleans and the birthplace of jazz.

Months away from Mardi Gras, but you wouldn’t know it by the number of people on the street. People milled about everywhere darting in and out of the clubs and restaurants. Experiencing the vibrant nightlife the old city offered and trying the special dishes the gourmet restaurants were famous for.

A party atmosphere filled the humid night air and Ardal could feel something else too. The air in the quarter was charged with magick.

He strolled along until he got to the Spotted Dog, walked through the door and could barely see through the cloud of smoke.

No-smoking regulations seemed lax, but city ordinances were not his problem. A wave of his arm and the smoke drifted out the door in a casual way none of the patrons noticed.

He spotted a seat at the bar and sat down before someone else took it. “Bud please.”

The bartender filled a glass for him and set it on a coaster. “Would you like to put your name on a list for a table, sir?”

“There’s a list?”

“We’ve been tremendously busy this tourist season, sir, and a list seems to solve a lot of little disputes over who got to the table first.”

“Yeah, I guess it would,” said Ardal. “Sure, put me down for a table. I’ll be here for a while.”

“You meeting somebody here?”

Ardal laughed. “I hope so.”

I hope Misty didn’t put a spell on me to attract girls. It’s possible. She loves to do things like that to help Mother Nature along.

The bartender brought his third beer, then pointed at the table in the corner. “I’ll take your beer over to your table, sir. Your name is at the top of the list, Ardal.”

“Thanks.” Ardal followed the bartender to his table and sat down. His butt barely hit the chair when a gorgeous girl with jet black hair sat down across from him.

“Hi, I heard the bartender call you, Ardal .”

“He did. And you are?”

“Magdalena.”

“Were you looking for someone named Ardal ?”

“I was if he looked like you,” she said and laid a sexy, inhibition-melting smile on him. “Are you waiting for a date to join you, Ardal?”

“No, I’m just enjoying the music and relaxing. That’s the only reason I’m here.” He felt a pin-prick on the back of his neck and reversed his lie. “Not the only reason. I’m also here to meet new people. I don’t live in N’Orleans.”

“Me neither. I’m from Alabama and I want to be a witch. I made a special trip down here to talk to the occult people who have stalls in Jackson Square.”

“Interesting,” said Ardal. “I’m not sure you can be a witch just because you want to be one. You either are one when you’re born, or you’re not. That’s what I believe.”

“I believe anyone can be whatever they want if they put their mind to it,” said Magdalena.

“That would be true for most professions,” said Ardal as he waved the bartender over, “but in the world of witches there is a certain something some of us have and others don’t.”

“Are you saying you’re a witch, Ardal?”

“No, I’m not saying that at all.”

The server rushed over and Ardal ordered another beer. “What are you having, Magdalena?”

“Red wine, please.”

Ardal nodded. “A beer and a glass of red wine. Thanks.”

He sipped his beer and realized all the beer he’d consumed since he’d been in the club required a trip to the men’s room. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

Magdalena smiled and winked at him. “I’ll be right here waiting for you, Ardal.”

For some reason, he didn’t find her attractive. She was pretty and said all the right things—literally sending out invitations to spending the night together—but that wasn’t what he was looking for.

He followed the arrow to the washrooms and sauntered down the hallway to the two doorways. About to enter the one marked men’s , a girl with curly dark hair cornered him and flattened him against the wall.

She pressed her curvy body into him, and he found the heat she projected quite disconcerting. Then she began whispering and he struggled to get free of her. “Want to go for a walk in the parking lot, Ardal?”

“Umm…no thanks. I want to go into the men’s room, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay, I’ll let you go, but I’ll be waiting for you when you come out.”

Misty definitely has some kind of spell on me. That girl knew my name.

Ardal finished his business in the bathroom, washed his hands and when the room was empty, he transported back to the bar area. He wasn’t risking running into the girl waiting outside the door of the men’s room.

“There you are,” said Magdalena. “I thought possibly you went out the back way and ditched me.”

Ardal chuckled as he picked up his beer. “That wouldn’t be polite. I’m not a rude person.”

“I’d like to get to know you better, Ardal. Would you like to dance?”

“Umm…I’m not much of a dancer. Sorry.” Something made him turn his head and watch the customers coming in through the front door of the club.

A tall girl with shimmering cinnamon colored hair came in alone. She wore a short black dress, a cloak draped over her narrow shoulders and an amulet around her neck that seemed to be glowing in the dim light the club stingily provided.

She smiled and waved and Ardal looked around to see who she was waving at. Couldn’t be him. He’d never laid eyes on her before.

Making a beeline through the exuberant party crowd, she zeroed in on him and seemed to float weightlessly through the air to his table.

“Am I late, Ardal?”

Ardal jumped to his feet. “Not at all. You’re just in time.”

“In time for what?” asked Magdalena sounding a little miffed.

“In time for our date,” said the girl. “I’m sure you’ll excuse us. Thank you for waiting with Ardal.”

Magdalena got up, picked up her wine and sought out her next victim.

“I’m Faba Shadowwalker.” Still standing, she offered her hand to Ardal.

He took Faba’s hand and felt the electrical charge shoot up his arm and lodge in his shoulder where it radiated a pleasant warmth.

“Pleasure to meet you, Faba. You have the advantage. Obviously you know who I am.”

She smiled and Ardal felt his usually cool blood turn to warm honey.

“I’m Mystere LeJeune’s second cousin and she told me you’d be here tonight.”

“Ah ha, you and Misty are related. That explains the resemblance. I’m happy you’re here, Faba. Would you care to join me for a drink?”

“That would be wonderful. I’ve come to New Orleans for the party, and I’ll be staying at Mystere’s house with you.”

“Fantastic,” said Ardal. “It’s going to be a fascinating event.”

“I’m afraid I’ll be at a disadvantage. I’m not acquainted with Mystere’s friends and family. We haven’t seen each other since we were children.”

“I’d be happy to introduce you to anyone you wish to know,” said Ardal. “I’m not much of a party person, but I’m looking forward to seeing some of the people who will be coming. My daddy for one. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“You live a great distance from your father?”

“He continues to live in the bayou while I live high on a mountain in West Virginia.”

“And you live there alone?”

“With my dog and my falcon,” said Ardal. “I prefer a solitary life.”

“Ah, spoken like someone who has been heartbroken once or more than once. I’m an empath and being this close to you I feel your pain. Perhaps I could help heal some of the damage done to you.”

“It would be nice if someone could.”

Ardal and Faba danced a few times on the crowded floor, then they walked hand in hand down the street enjoying the N’Orleans atmosphere.

When Faba seemed to be tiring, Ardal transported them to Nine Saint Gillian Street.

Faba shivered when they appeared at Misty’s back gate. “That was an exhilarating experience, Ardal. My first time transporting.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Shall we go inside? It’s late and the house looks like it’s sleeping.”