Overcomer - The Battle by Judy Colella (best management books of all time txt) 📖

go home after dinner, so she was no longer there by the time Mr. Croghan finally arrived. If his welcome from the Kellys wasn’t as exuberant as it had been the day before, it was at least more familiar. He was shown into the family room where Tara and her father were watching television.

No sooner had he taken a seat in one of the easy-chairs, than Tara got out of hers and went to him.

Arms folded across her chest, she demanded to be told what was going on. “Nobody is telling me anything,” she complained, “but I know something happened that wasn’t normal. I mean, most music teachers give their lessons and then leave, but instead, I had to leave, and now you’re back here again, and – and that’s weird! So what happened?”

Donal Kelly turned off the TV as she was speaking, and came to her side. “You’re being extremely rude to our guest, Tara.”

She frowned at him. “Celeste said the same thing yesterday about that Cian personohmygoshwho is he?!”

“You were rude to him yesterday, too?” Her father looked horrified.

“What? No! I only wanted to look at him some more. OMG! Where is he from? Is he even a normal person? Because normal people really don’t look like that!”

“TARA!” Mr. Kelly and Celeste shouted simultaneously, the older Kelly girl having entered the room in time to hear sister’s breathless rush of words.

“Fine.” Tara threw her hands up, her face a ferocious scowl. “Leave me out of everything. I’m too young, right?” She switched to a mocking, high-pitched voice that was supposed to be an imitation of one or both of her parents. “Don’t worry, Tara. When you get older you’ll understand. Blah, blah, blah,” she added in her own voice, left the room and went upstairs, stomping all the way as if to make sure everyone knew how angry she was.

Croghan, one eyebrow raised, said, “Never did give me a chance to answer.”

“Should I be glad of that?” asked Donal dryly.

Croghan chuckled. “Very possibly.”

Celeste took the chair opposite him and sat forward, her eyes wide with concern. “What’s wrong with Cian?”

It didn’t take a psychologist to interpret the girl’s expression – he could see he was right about how quickly she had committed her heart to the boy. “Yesterday was hard for him, child. He told us many things about his life, and I filled in what I could, but none of what either of us said even begins to touch on how horrific his experiences were, or how deeply they affected him. So the telling, even in part, reopened many wounds, making him more vulnerable than usual.”

“And that made him sick?”

“No, it exposed him to attack.”

“What are you talking about?” Donal sounded alarmed.

“Not a physical attack,” the Croghan said, “a spiritual one. Remember Moloch, the evil being that pursued the boy’s ancestor?”

“Yes,” said Celeste, “and you said it was going to kill Cian after making him su-suffer – ” She stopped as her voice caught.

“That’s right.” He wanted so very much to take away the sorrow he saw spring up in her eyes. “Because the boy’s mind was opened by all that was said yesterday, that evil bastard was able to enter his thoughts and dreams as he slept and it pulled him into what you’d call a comatose state. I’ve no idea what kind of confrontation they had, only that it must have been extremely wearing on Cian who has never directly faced such a being before.” He sat back and sighed. “But I’m thinking this might actually have been a blunder on Moloch’s part; he’s shown his hand, and now Cian has a far better idea what he’s up against, making it that much easier to train him for battle.”

Celeste nodded then sat straighter. “And when can you start training me?”

“I was supposed to start today, as you know, but – ”

“But nothing,” she said firmly. “I want to start right now. Let’s get the Harp and do this.”

“Do what?” asked Eileen from the doorway.

Celeste stood. “I want him to train me on the harp right now, Mom. I don’t think we can wait.”

Eileen raised an eyebrow. “Okay. And what about Katie? Isn’t she supposed to be included?”

“We can pick her up on the way.”

“On the way where?”

“To wherever he took Dad last night to get to the Hub. I mean, I really doubt he’s going to try teaching me anything here with Tara upstairs and all, right?” She looked back at Croghan, questioning.

“Seems you’ve got this all figured out,” he said, controlling a smile.

“No, but I’m pretty sure you do.”

He had, in fact, been planning to do this anyway, so he gave her parents a shrug. “May I assume this is fine with the both of you?”

“May we assume we’ve really no choice?” Donal asked.

Nodding, the Croghan stood. “The girl’s right. We must start immediately.” Something told him he would have gotten more resistance from the family had he suggested it, and was secretly relieved it had seemed like Celeste’s idea.

The ride to Katie’s was silent, but when they pulled up in front of her house, Croghan asked, “How exactly do you feel about Cian?”

Celeste shook her head, exasperated. “Everyone keeps asking me that,” she said grumpily. “Well, Katie asked. But why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re still very young – too young to be forming any kind of permanent attachments to members of the opposite sex.”

“I see. Thanks, ‘Dad’. Look, all I know is that every time I’m around him, I have a hard time catching my breath, okay?” She got out of the car and practically ran to Katie’s side door – like the Kellys, they rarely used the front.

Mrs. Grandol answered her frantic knock. “Celeste? What on Earth are you – come in. What are you doing here on a Sunday evening? And what’s the matter? I thought it was the police the way you were banging on the door.”

“Sorry. Nothing’s wrong. I need to borrow Katie for a little while – something we needed to do earlier but didn’t get around to. I’m learning something new and need her help.” She had no intention of lying to her friend’s mother, but knew the woman would assume she was referring to schoolwork.

“She’s upstairs. Promise you won’t get her back too late, okay? She’s such a grouch in the morning.”

“No problem. Hi, Mr. Grandol!” she added as she sped past him through the hallway and up the stairs, not waiting for a response.

Instead of a chronically nosy little sister, Katie had an older brother who pretty much left her alone on the rare occasions when he was home, and a much older sister who was married and living elsewhere. Unlike Celeste, therefore, she rarely worried about privacy and her bedroom door was normally ajar, like it was now. Celeste smacked the doorframe, impatience causing her to stand on tiptoe, one hand playing with the bottom button of her jacket as she waited for Katie to turn away from her computer.

“Celeste?! Why’re you, uh. . . do you have to go to the bathroom or something?”

“No! Katie – ” she rushed into the room and tugged her friend out of the chair. “Cian was attacked by that demon thing, which is what the Keeper was talking about when he told Mom he was sick, and we’re going to the Hub so I can start learning the songs because the sooner I do, the sooner I can help him. Come on!”

“Slow down! You sound like freaking Tara! You talked to my Mom already? What did you tell her?”

“The truth – that I need to borrow you to help me with something I have to learn.”

“The truth. Clever. I take it she’s okay with me leaving?”

“Not at all, Katie. I’m going to kidnap you right under her nose. Don’t be a dweeb! Of course it’s okay! Hurry up!”

Rolling her eyes, Katie pried herself away from her friend’s grasp and ran down the stairs behind her. Grabbing her jacket from the closet she yelled, “Okay, Mom! I’m leaving – be back soon!” She gave Celeste a slight frown and whispered, “I will be back soon, yes?”

Celeste let out a groan of frustration and grabbed her friend’s arm again, dragging her out to the Jaguar.

“What’s up, Mr. C?” asked Katie after getting in. “I hear we’re going to the Hub, right?”

“Think you’re ready to meet an angel?”

“Well, I did go to church today.”

He looked at her in the rearview mirror to see her wearing a perfectly serious expression, so he refrained from laughing. What a funny kid. . .

When they got to the seaport, the parking lots were not yet empty. Some maintenance workers were still there to clean up from the day’s influx of tourists and class trips; even in the colder months, the museum attracted quite a crowd.

He pulled into the space closest to the main entrance, turned off the car, and opened his door. “Come along, ladies.”

They got out, shivering a little in the sea air, and followed him through the gate. A security officer who was finishing his check of one of the buildings walked over to them. “Sorry, folks, we’re closed for the day.”

Croghan smiled. “Oh, we’re not here to sight-see. The Curator, Jefferson Carver, is a good friend of mine – he asked me to get something for him from the Figurehead Building.” He held out a key with a paper tag attached, the word “Figureheads” clearly printed on it.

The guard nodded at the two girls, whose teeth had begun to chatter. “You need them to get whatever it is?” he asked, his tone vaguely suggestive.

“What are you saying sir?” the Croghan demanded, picking up the not-so-subtle innuendo in the man’s tone. Something in his own made the guard back up.

His expression changing to one of feigned outraged innocence, the man declared, “N-nothing! I – I mean, we usually don’t have people going into the buildings after closing time, is all.”

The Croghan continued to stare coldly, and when the guard seemed sufficiently intimidated, added brusquely, “You can of course call Mr. Carver if you need confirmation,” and walked away, Katie and Celeste following.

“Wait – was he implying what I think he was?” Katie asked, incredulous.

“Ew, that’s disgusting!” Celeste agreed.

Croghan sighed. “Some people are so bored with life, they have to invent things to make it more interesting.”

When they reached the building that housed the figureheads, Croghan unlocked the door, ushering them inside. The heat had been turned off recently enough that it was still nice and warm.

“So what now, Keeper person?” Katie, hearing herself, thought, “‘Keeper person?’ Wow. I must be more tired than I thought!

With a quiet chuckle, he led them into one of the side galleries where some of the less ancient figureheads were kept in glass displays.

“Why are these so small?” Celeste asked, curious. “The ones out in the main room are massive.”

“Shipbuilders and sailors eventually realized how much the large figureheads were slowing down the ships and throwing off their balance, so they began making them a more reasonable size or eliminating them altogether,” Gerald explained. He bent down and lifted a brass ring in the floor, which turned out to be the handle of a trap door. A thick wooden ladder leading to a lower level was barely visible in the dim recessed ceiling lights.

“Down there?” Katie sounded unhappy. She wasn’t claustrophobic, but small dark holes in unknown places didn’t exactly thrill her.

“Sorry. Yes.” He went first and switched on a series of lights. When the girls reached the bottom, they found themselves in a storage area with wooden crates lined up in such a way that they formed what looked like a maze. He led them through quickly, stopping at a crate that was much taller and wider than the others, and that had been placed flush against one of the walls.

Raising his hands, he began to sing quietly in a language that neither of them knew – it certainly wasn’t Gaelic this time. A