The Wailing Woman

Epilogue I

SIX MONTHS LATER...

It was not every day Máire Taaffe would get summoned by The High Priestess. Especially not an old crone like her. She preferred feeding the birds in the park or whatever people her age did until they died. She had no idea why The High Priestess wanted to speak with her. The warlock she had sent banged on her door at seven in the morning, awakening her from beauty sleep.

She greeted him with a wooden spoon.

But she held herself back when she recognized the idiot. It was no one other than The High Priestess' spider eyes—James Drury, also known as Helene's little lover. His short chestnut hair left his squared clean shaved face look like a fox with a few wrinkles here and there. The fella wasn't bad looking but Máire didn't understand why The High Priestess chose to fuck him. She supposed it had to do with one of those things of being an old tired lady.

Drury raised a brow at the wooden spoon in Máire's hand. "Your best weapon is your magic, not a cooking utensil," he informed her as if she had been born yesterday.

She narrowed her gaze. "Not everything needs magic. Most problems can be solved with a good beating." She tapped the spoon against her head and eyed him up and down. "Have you ever fought anyone, James?" The warlock clenched his jaw.

"My magic is enough to hurt someone," he says, lamely.

She nodded. "You lack confidence."

Drury's face went red then inhaled, and he exhaled twice before he spoke again. "I'm not here to argue with a senile witch." Máire grinned. "I've come by The High Priestess's orders. She wants you to pay her a visit at her home. She has an urgent matter she wishes to discuss with you. She'll see you at noon." Drury finishes as he hands her a small card with The High Priestess' home address.

It was Máire's turn to raise her brow. "If it is an urgent matter shouldn't this be discussed with the rest of the High Council." He raised her stubbled chin at her. She gripped her wooden spoon, perhaps today would be the day the boy learned some manners.

"The High Priestess will be waiting for you." he feigned a smile. "Enjoy the rest of your morning, Ms. Taaffe." Drury then simply turned away and went down the stairs disappearing out of her sight.

That had been five hours ago.

Máire currently stood in the most luxurious living room. Tall white ceilings and cream sofas with golden decorative frames and marbled flooring. Above her hung a large crystal chandelier. There were a few glass bookcases with magical objects trapped inside, but Máire doubted they were useful. The real magic must be hidden elsewhere, somewhere in this glamorous house.

Despite being surrounded by such lavishes, she was growing tired of sitting in the living room.

It had been twenty minutes since she had arrived and left waiting for The High Priestess. Did this stupid girl think she didn't have anything important to do? It's not like Máire could've easily rejected The High Priestess' invitation or else her life would be in great danger.

She considered it for a moment.

"I do apologize for the wait, Ms.Taaffe," The High Priestess suddenly walked in, and Máire took her time standing up. "There were some matters that needed my guidance. I hope you understand." She slightly bent her neck. She had bent her neck and knees before, many times. To queens, kings, princes, princesses, and now even a High Priestess.

But ask her where they were and she would happily tell you.

She lifted her gaze and met The High Priestess' single gray eye. She carefully glanced at the other—armored in a bejeweled eye patch of sapphires and topaz and accessorized with golden chain links. Many believed she lost her eye due to her prophetic abilities. She told them it was because of the world she saw for them. She lost it for us. It's all horseshit. Máire was one of the few who knew the truth about her missing eye.