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“They look like leprechauns,” she whispers.
I nod. “Yeah, a little, I guess.”
“I hate leprechauns,” she says, her eyes beginning to shine. “I hate them so much.”
Before I can respond, something smacks hard against the roof—like a coconut falling from a tree—and Tessa dives under the table with a scream.
Chapter 20
TESSA
I remain under the table, trembling and muttering to myself until Wes returns from outside.
“It was a tree limb,” he says, crouching down to peer at me beneath the pretty, strawberry-print tablecloth. “A big one, but it slid off the roof onto the ground out back. Hopefully, it didn’t do any serious damage.” He sighs, scanning my face. “Do you want to go? I can carry you to the camper and come back for Freya.”
My lips twitch. “I don’t need to be carried. I could run. If I needed to.” I pull in a deeper breath, willing my racing heart to slow. “But if it was just a tree limb…”
“We can still go,” Wes says gently. “You won’t sleep well if you’re scared.”
And we might be murdered by blood-thirsty leprechauns before morning, I add silently.
Aloud, I insist, “No, it’s okay. It’s been a big day. I’m sure I’ll sleep just fine…once I drink all the Sleepytime tea in the cupboard.” I motion toward the play dungeon. “And Freya’s having so much fun. Or she was. Did the limb scare her, too?”
Wes shakes his head. “It doesn’t seem like it. She’s still playing with the blocks. I think she might have a future in architectural design.”
I force another weak smile. “Funny.”
His brow furrows. “I think I know what we need to do.”
“What’s that?” I glance around my hiding place. “Get out from under the table? I may actually sleep under here. It’s very clean. And if a leprechaun breaks in in the middle of the night, they’re not going to look under the tablecloth.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little strange?”
“Strange that there are leprechauns in Colorado? Yes, but I guess it’s not all that crazy when you think about it. Ireland has mountains. Colorado has mountains. It’s cold there, too. And green. They probably feel very at home here.”
Wes settles onto the floor cross-legged. “No, I mean… Last night, we drove right into the middle of the biggest gathering of clowns I’ve ever seen. Tonight, it’s cryptids that look like leprechauns. It’s like we’re both being confronted with our greatest irrational fears.”
“It isn’t irrational to be afraid of a creature who likes to drag humans underground and torture them for hundreds of years, just for fun,” I say, knowing I sound crazy, but unable to stop myself.
“But that’s only if you capture one and ask it for three wishes,” Wes says. “They can’t take you anywhere unless you strike a bargain with them or try to steal their treasure.”
I frown. “Where did you hear that?”
“My great aunt and uncle. My grandmother knew a lot about the fair folk, too. The McGuires are about as Irish as you can get without being born and raised in the old country.”
I wet my lips. “My family, too. I know I’m being ridiculous, but I can’t help it. I swear, I think I saw a leprechaun once, when I was playing by the spring with my cousin when we were little. I was by the rope swing, getting ready to jump. Nancy was already in the water, telling me to hurry. I looked down to tell her that I was working up to a big swing and right there, under the water, I saw this evil, bearded face rising beneath her. The spring was so clear, I could see every detail, from his terrible sharp teeth to the horrible grin on his little face.”
Wes curses.
I exhale a rush of breath. “It was terrifying. And then it pulled Nancy under. I’ll never forget how wide her eyes got or the way her hands clawed at the water as she sank.” I shiver. “I started screaming and ran back toward the house to get her dad. But by the time I got back, Nancy was sitting by the rope swing, wringing the water out of her hair and laughing. She said I was crazy. That there hadn’t been anything else in the water. It was just her playing a prank on me because I was a baby who was too chicken to jump.”
“Mean prank,” Wes says.
“It would have been, but…I don’t think it was. I know what I saw, Wes.” I glance up at him, grateful that he isn’t looking at me like I need antipsychotic medication. “And Nancy was never quite the same after that. She was meaner, more impulsive. She just didn’t seem to care about anyone the way she did before. Even her mom and dad.”
“You think the leprechaun kidnapped your cousin and replaced her with a fairy changeling?” Wes asks, proving his Irish elders taught him all the old stories.
Embarrassed, I nod. “I mean, not really, but…maybe? I mean, you’ve met Nancy. She’s awful. No way she’s fully human. She was going to give Freya away just because some dumb guy didn’t like her. Who does that?”
