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She scrunches up her nose. “Supposedly it’s Gaelic or a more primitive form of it. I’m calling my sister.” She picks up her phone, dials the number, and hits the speaker.
“Roger? What are you doing answering Jess’s phone? Aren’t you supposed to be deciphering shit?!”
“Sorry, Cass, Jessica is currently being wheeled into the delivery room. Can I call you back? We’re a little busy.”
“Oh my GOD ! She can’t be! I’m not there!”
An agonizing growl comes over the wire that would scare Satan shitless, then Jessica snarls, “Send her the fucking email nooooow!!”
I feel my brow spring upwards in surprise. “Oh my...that’s your sister?”
“Give me that phone Roger!!” A scuffling sound can be heard in the background followed by Jess panting into the receiver. “Cass. Roger is sending you an email nooooow!!”
A doctor or nurse yells out. “Don’t you push!!!”
“Good Lord, I can see the head,” Roger mutters.
“Send it before you pass out! Cassi, are you there?”
I look at her and see her shake herself loose of the chaos on the other end. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Mom gave me a book years ago—”
“What?”
“Don’t ask, just listen. The book is in English, a twin to the one you found. I made Roger scan it all night; he’s emailing a PDF to you.”
Cassi shakes her head. “What? I... I don’t understand.”
“As soon as you told me you were in England, I knew you would need it. Mom said it’s from some great grandmother from a thousand years ago. She made it... for you.”
Cassi squints. “You mean five hundred years ago?”
“No, a thousand. It will be explained in the emaaailllll! Sonofabitch, get this kid out noooow!!!”
“Cass, it’s Roger, I sent it. Got to go.”
The phone went to a busy signal, and I disconnected the call.
I look at Cassi and at the same time we say, “The Watchers of the Night are lying.”
––––––––
A FTER HAVING A CAR rental agency drop off a Jeep, I drove Cassi to the nearest coastal town. We both needed a break from the hotel, away from prying ears and eyes. We drive to a restaurant overlooking the ocean and are seated at a table for two in front of a wall of windows.
“I can’t believe she’s gone into labor,” she murmurs for the tenth time since leaving the hotel.
I reach across the table and take her hand, smoothing my thumb across the back of it. “It’s not uncommon for a baby to be early.”
“I know.” She slumps her shoulders. “I just can’t help thinking that it’s my fault. I should have told her where I was going.”
“It’s not your fault and mother and babe will be fine.”
She looks at me with hope filled eyes. “Really?”
“Positive. In fact, I made sure of it.”
She nods and releases a shaky breath. “Okay.” Turning around in her chair, she takes her purse off the back of it and pulls out her cellphone. Getting up, she sits in the chair next to me and opens up her email.
