FIFTEEN

MAEVE

Maeve – the first Shadowwitch, the inventor of Shadowmagic, the mad Druid who had decimated half of her people’s rowan forest in a maniacal quest for power. The leader who swore an oath to overthrow the House of Duir. The Fili Queen who attempted to harness a power so strong that it destroyed her and her army. She was back, and so was her army.

Outside, hundreds of soldiers suddenly appeared, naked and screaming. Cialtie, it seemed, had anticipated this. Banshees were ready, passing out cloaks and boots. Then they led the dazed Fili into the Lodge where they found their old yew bows hanging. Even though the bows were all almost identical, the proper owner walked straight up to his own weapon and picked it out like it was a son or daughter.

Maeve and her Fili army were back and in league with Cialtie, the Banshees and the Brownies. Cialtie was right. This was the ally that ensured his victory.

I took off my masks when it was just me and Jesse in his tent. ‘I have to find Ruby and get back to Duir,’ I said, ‘but I don’t know how to do it without getting you into trouble. Any ideas?’

But Jesse wasn’t ready for a chat about planning. He was still way too freaked out. ‘Did you see what they did?’ he asked, wide-eyed and pale.

‘I sure did.’

‘Whatever happened in there … it can’t be … it can’t be right.’

‘No, it was very wrong and I’m freaked out too.’

Jesse continued to look off into nothing. I tried to snap him out of it. ‘Hey,’ I said playfully punching him on the arm, ‘you were awesome in there.’

‘I was?’

‘Hell yes. The way you stood up to Lugh. That was, like, the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘What?’ he said, finally looking at me. ‘Really? Gosh I almost forgot I did that. I did do that, didn’t I?’

‘You sure did.’

Jesse smiled. ‘I was terrified.’

‘Well, you pretended not to be very well. It was – princely.’

He looked like he’d been slapped. ‘Gosh, I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.’

Jesse then burst into tears and gave me a hug. That may not be princely behaviour in anybody else’s book but it was just fine in mine.

A Banshee guard outside the tent announced himself and asked loudly if he could speak with Prince Codna. I only had time to turn away and throw up my hood before he entered the tent. Jesse nodded to the messenger and wiped his eyes.

‘I have been sent to ask if you or any of the Brownies have seen the girl,’ the Banshee said, standing to attention.

‘What girl?’ Jesse asked.

‘The blind girl, Your Highness. She has powers of which we were previously unaware. She has killed two guards and escaped.’

I almost turned then. Surely this was some kind of joke.

‘I find that hard to believe,’ Jesse said.

‘It is true, sir. She is gone and all that is left of two of my most trusted guards are their clothes.’

‘This is indeed very strange,’ he said in his faux-prince voice. ‘I shall assign some Brownies to help you with the search.’

The guard saluted and left.

Jesse picked up my bandana and eye gauze mask and handed them to me. ‘Go find her, Conor, and get her back home.’

‘But what about you? Won’t it be suspicious if your Shadowguard disappears?’

‘Don’t worry about me. I’m sure I can find a new Shadowguard.’

I put on my mask and stood. Before I left Jesse took my hand and said, ‘I remember what you once said, Conor. No one can unmake us friends.’

Outside the tent was a disorganised mess. Soldiers were running all over the place looking into tents and under bushes. If Ruby was wandering around out here I had no chance of finding her first. Saying that, how could she have escaped? The messenger said she had killed two guards. Now that certainly wasn’t true. Maybe she had help. Maybe Mom or Araf had organised a breakout.

I decided to risk going in to the Lodge to see if I could have a look at where she had been held. I had to risk talking to a couple of Banshee guards. I was worried that maybe speaking would give away that I was a fake Shadowguard, but I didn’t seem to arouse any suspicion.

Ruby’s holding cell made me want to cry. There was just a straw mat and a bucket for her to use as a toilet. On the floor was a half-eaten apple. How could anybody do this to a young girl? By the door, a pile of soldier’s uniforms lay on top of two pairs of shoes. I picked up one of the cloaks and dust fell from the inside of the sleeves.

OK, I said to myself, let’s assume she hasn’t been rescued, or worse kidnapped by somebody else – let’s assume she really did escape on her own. Where could she have gone? I imagined I was a young girl groping along these stone walls. I followed a wall out of the room and into the corridor. The roof was broken here and the wall was covered with pale ivy. I got down on my hands and knees and discovered that some of the stems were broken. Could Ruby have done that as she was feeling along the wall? Further along I found what almost looked like an ivy bush. I looked inside and found an opening in the wall behind it. Vines had grown up from below in what must have been an old dumb waiter shaft. There was still a rope hanging down. At the bottom of the shaft was daylight. There was no way I could fit in there, but Ruby could. As I was poking my head back in, I saw a clump of matted hair hanging from a thorny vine. It was black, just like Ruby’s. ‘Aren’t you a clever girl,’ I said to myself.

I ran outside and around the Lodge until I found where that shaft let out. There was a half-ruined stone outbuilding that probably had been some sort of cooking place or maybe a laundry. In the dirt I found the imprint of a very Worldly sneaker print. She had definitely been there. I rubbed out her footprint and looked into the holly forest beyond.

A Banshee saw me climbing from the outbuilding. ‘Found anything?’

‘No,’ I replied. ‘Have you searched the holly forest yet?’

‘Twice,’ he said. ‘She’s not out there.’

‘Maybe she climbed a tree.’

‘Not those trees, mate. Anytime you get near them they scratch the hell out of you.’

To prove his words he held out his arm. It was covered with deep scratches. He continued around the castle searching in a way a person does when he knows there’s no point but has to keep going because his superior officer ordered him to.

I looked at the holly forest before me. You gotta be out there somewhere, my little gem. The hollies here weren’t like trees, they were more like gigantic bushes. Most were about two storeys high; palm-sized leaves covered them from top to bottom and those leaves were hard and spiked on all sides. There was no way to get to the trunk of these trees without some serious hacking, or permission. I walked up to the nearest plant. I had never spoken to a holly before. I tentatively reached towards it. My last experience with talking to a strange oak made me think twice before bounding up and hugging a tree. I pinched a leaf between my index finger and thumb and gave it a dainty shake like the kind you’d get from a germ-phobic posh lady.

‘Hello there, Mr Holly,’ I said as politely as I could. I braced myself for an attack but could only hear, no not hear, feel – I could feel a tiny voice, but it was just out of reach like I was trying to listen to a conversation through a hotel wall. I got the impression that if I were able to reach through the leaves and touch some wood that I might be able to converse with this plant. I remembered the welted-up scratches on the soldier’s arm but if these trees could help me find Ruby that would be a small price. I scrunched up my eyes and pushed my hand past the wall of leaves and felt around for a branch. The moment I touched it the leaves closed around my arm and spiked leaves penetrated my skin. The pain was excruciating but I was prepared for it and didn’t try to pull away. It was the pulling away that had scratched that soldier up so much. Mr Holly’s voice was strong in my mind now and the first thing I realised was that it was Ms Holly.

‘Who be you?’ she asked as I grimaced in pain.

The question led me to surmise that hollies couldn’t just reach into my head and take out any information like some of the other trees in The Land. I didn’t answer. I wanted to keep my identity a secret. I had no idea if Hollies gossiped or not.

She was in my brain enough to ask, ‘You are Faerie?’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘I want you to tell me,’ she demanded.

‘I am Faerie,’ I said. ‘I’m looking for a young girl.’

‘What do you want with this child?’

‘I want to help her, she’s lost.’

‘Others today have said this to us but in their blood they harboured malice.’

I looked down at my wrist, beads of blood oozed out of a ring of tiny pinpricks caused by the sharp leaves.

‘You can read blood?’

‘Your blood [actually it felt more like she said sap] reveals to us the truth in what you say.’

‘Then know this, ma’am,’ I said. ‘This young girl is lost and alone. She has been mistreated by these people. I’m here to take her home to her family. Do you know where she is?’

The tree didn’t speak for a while. I got a faint impression that she was talking to someone else.

‘The girl is with us. She is very afraid and says she can no longer see.’

‘Will you lead me to her?’

She released my wrist but I remained in contact with the branch. ‘Walk north touching my sisters. We will lead you to her.’

At did as I was told. While trying to look casual, I touched the leaves of every holly I passed. In my head I received instant messages that subtly changed my direction until I found a large tree that somehow I knew she was under. I looked around; I could hear distant shouting but no one was about.

I pinched a leaf between my fingers and asked, ‘Is the girl here?’

The tree replied by saying, ‘Give me your blood.’

I tried to reach through the wall of leaves like I did before but the tree instructed me just to prick my thumb on one of the leaf’s spines.

As soon as I did the tree asked, ‘Do you mean to harm this child?’

My heart began to race in my chest. I had found her. ‘No ma’am,’ I said. ‘I’ve come to rescue her.’

‘How do you propose to do that? The child cannot travel: she is hurt and exhausted.’

‘I have an amulet that will return us home to her father and grandmother.’

I felt the tree believe me and then heard the creaking sound of living wood moving. A gap opened in the dome of leaves that covered the holly from top to bottom and I entered. I thought she wasn’t there at first. I looked all around the base of the trunk and didn’t find her. Then I looked up. She was about six feet above me, asleep, cradled in a basket of branches provided by the holly.

I felt tears come to my eyes. I placed my hand on the trunk and said, ‘Thank you.’

It was tight in there but the holly pushed apart branches as I climbed. She was still asleep when I reached her. She was pale, dirty and her hair was a tangled mess but still I thought she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I gently pushed her hair away from her face. She opened her eyes and – screamed. She screamed one of those world famous Ruby migraine-inducing screams. I placed my hand across her mouth; I don’t know how but the sound was still amazingly loud.

‘Shhhhh, Ruby, it’s me,’ I shout-whispered.

She couldn’t hear me over the internal sound she was making with her scream so she bit me. I quickly pulled my palm back and fell backwards about five feet and got stuck upside-down in the branches. Ruby then started banging on my ankle with something really hard.

‘Ruby,’ I shouted, not caring who heard me; every living creature within a twenty-five-mile radius must have heard that scream. ‘Ruby, damn it, stop. It’s me, Conor.’

‘Conor, Conor O’Neil?’

‘Yes, now shut up.’

The holly tried to help me untangle myself but only succeeded in dropping me another five feet onto my head. Ruby climbed down. When I took her in my arms she broke down into uncontrollable quaking sobs.

‘Shhhh, it’s all right,’ I said, but it wasn’t.

Outside the tree I heard soldiers shouting, ‘In there. That one.’

‘There are men surrounding me,’ the holly pulsed into my brain.

I reached to my neck for the rothlú charm and then panicked when it wasn’t there. I then remembered I had taken it off inside the Lodge. I frantically searched for the pocket I knew was somewhere in this borrowed set of clothes.

Outside I heard a voice say. ‘Hack it down.’

The tree’s voice in my head barked, ‘Quickly, Faerie.’

I found the amulet at the same time as I saw a sword slice through the holly’s wall of leaves. At the same time I felt the tree’s pain and terror.

I didn’t have time to thank or apologise to the tree. I only had time to say, ‘This is gonna hurt, Ruby,’ and then I said, ‘Rothlú.’

I can’t tell you how disappointed I was when I felt wet grass pressing against the side of my face. I really thought I was going to wake up between clean sheets in my nice warm bed in Castle Duir. Instead, I was once again face down in a field somewhere. This had been my third rothlú spell (or was it four? I didn’t even know any more) in two days. Brains were not meant to be scrambled on a regular basis. I tried to think where I was and how I got there. It was definitely a rothlú so it must be important, but at that moment I couldn’t think and all I wanted to do was go back to sleep in the dirt or if that wasn’t possible, then die. At least I wouldn’t hurt any more.

Then a scream brought me back to the present. At the sound of Ruby’s screech my brain cells finally organised themselves enough so I remembered what I was doing. I was saving Ruby. The hairy hermit told me that the rothlú would get me home but it obviously hadn’t – I was face down in grass and Ruby was once again in trouble. Forcing myself to ignore the all-over body pain, I jumped to my feet. Ruby stopped screaming and began jumping. She wrapped her arms around my legs.

I pushed her back. ‘What’s wrong? Are you all right? Where are we?’

Ruby continued to jump. ‘You’re awake!’

I placed my hands on her shoulder, and tried to make her hold still. It didn’t work and it hurt. I felt like I had just been worked over in an alley by a loan shark.

‘Ruby, why are you screaming?’

She looked at me like I’d just asked a stupid question. ‘You wouldn’t wake up so I did one of my waking the dead screams. And it worked.’

‘So you’re OK?’

‘Yes, yes,’ she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me.

I took a few steps and then had to stop. I turned away and thought I was going to be sick. She grabbed my hand again.

‘Come on, come on, you have to meet someone. She is sooooooo nice.’

I quickly straightened up and finally had a look around. I let Ruby lead me to her new friend as a smile crossed my face. I reached out and placed my hands on that venerable old bark and said, ‘Hello, Mother Oak.’

SIXTEEN

THE WORRY STONE

The moment I touched her I received that blessed loving calm that comes every time I’m with Mother Oak, and through her I could also feel the joy and unconditional love coming from Ruby, who was touching the oak’s trunk as well. But the calm didn’t last. I was surprised and then scared by what I could only describe as panic rising up in Mother Oak. I tried to pull my hand away but was frozen to the spot just like when I was attacked by the oak outside of Castle Duir. I groaned and dropped to my knees as the tree’s will probed my mind for information.

‘Why are you being so mean to him?’ I heard Ruby yell and it stopped.

I fell backwards hard on my butt and caught my breath. Ruby continued to talk to her and I listened to that one side of the conversation.

‘Yes … I guess so … Promise … OK.’

Ruby walked over to me and said, ‘She said she was surprised and did a bad thing. She wants to talk to you and promises to be nice.’

I didn’t get up right away. I really had been sucker punched by the old woman. An attack from Mother Oak was the last thing I expected and after rothlú-ing around for a couple of days, I just wanted to curl up and drool for a while. But this was Mother Oak. I had to at least find out what made her act that way. I didn’t even stand, I just scooted backwards and sat against her trunk and tentatively placed my hands on her bark.

Back was the old Mother Oak. ‘Oh my, I am so sorry Conor. I try never to intrude on anyone’s private thoughts but I saw something at the fore of your mind and it scared me so I just had to learn more. I am afraid I forgot myself. Please forgive me.’

She really was terribly sorry. There was no hiding emotion when you are talking to the Grand Lady of Glen Duir. Of course she was forgiven and I stood, hugged her once and then climbed a little, allowing her to build a place for me to sit in her branches.

As I settled in, I also felt through Mother Oak the emotional presence of Ruby. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Yes dear,’ the tree reassured.

‘I’m fine, Ruby,’ I said. ‘It was just a misunderstanding.’

‘I was wondering, my child, if I may have a chat with Conor on my own for a moment.’

‘Oh, like grown-up stuff.’

I felt Mother Oak smile. ‘Yes. One thing I certainly am is grown-up.’

‘OK,’ Ruby said and then she was out of my head.

‘Again I am sorry for my rudeness before, but I saw in your mind that Maeve is alive. Can this truly be so? The child spoke of horrible things that Banshees did to her and she spoke of ghosts.’

‘All true, I’m afraid. Cialtie has somehow brought Maeve and her Fili army back.’

‘Oh, my, my. I had hoped that the past would stay past. I do not know if I can sprout through another season if such turmoil again grows in The Land.’

The old oak creaked and I could almost feel the weight of her boughs pressing down on my shoulders.

‘Don’t worry ma’am. My mom and dad will figure out something,’ I said, hoping it was true. ‘I have to go now and warn everyone.’

‘Yes, yes of course, Conor,’ the tree said as if I roused her from deep thought. ‘And you must get that dear girl back to her father and grandmother. Ask her to come back to me.’

‘Hey Ruby,’ I shouted. ‘Mother Oak wants to speak to you and then we have to go.’

I climbed down and was going to leave them alone but the tree asked me to stay. Ruby wrapped her arms around the trunk. The two of them didn’t speak for a while – they just felt. Love flowed between them like a two-way street.

‘You have been through so much my little sprout. But you are with Conor now and he will take good care of you. Can I tell you a secret?’

Ruby nodded her head. ‘Yes.’

‘Conor is the finest young man I have ever met.’

‘Really?’ I said.

‘Shush, I was speaking to Ruby. Goodbye you two. Take care of each other. I’m afraid there are going to be dark times ahead. Just remember that I have been in this glen for oh so very a long time and the one thing I know is – after winter there has always been spring.’

I had never walked back to the castle from Glen Duir but I knew it was going to take more than a day. ‘You up for a long hike?’

Ruby took my hand and said, ‘Sure.’

Mother Oak had given her a stick that she had trimmed and she set off sweeping it before her.

‘Don’t you feel bad after that rothlú spell that brought us here?’

‘My tummy was a little funny when I first got here but I’m OK now.’

‘Well, I feel like crap.’

‘You said a dirty word.’

‘Sorry.’

‘I won’t tell.’

‘Thanks.’

We trudged along for the rest of the day. Ruby hummed some song, most of the time while I grunted along. The sun got lower and Ruby started to get tired. There was no point in stopping. We had no food and no way to make a fire so I gave her a piggyback. She quickly fell asleep. It’s amazing how rapidly the young girl on my back began to feel like a proverbial eight-hundred-pound gorilla. As the sun was setting I had to quit.

‘I’m cold.’

I gave her my Brownie cloak. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have a fire coin, Ruby.’

‘That’s OK,’ she said. ‘Go ask a tree for two sticks.’

‘Why?’

‘To rub together.’

‘Oh,’ I laughed. ‘I’m afraid rubbing sticks together will only get us splinters. I have to rest, Ruby. Just for an hour.’

I lay down and she snuggled up on my chest.

‘Will that Lugh man find us here?’

I don’t even remember if I stayed awake long enough to answer. The next thing I do remember, Ruby was prying open one of my eyelids and frantically whispering, ‘Wake up. Someone’s coming.’

The two of us ran out of the clearing and hid behind some oaks, making sure not to touch them. It was a small party of riders. In front, one of the riders hung over his saddle with his head down. In his hand he was dangling a vial that glowed with a yellow light. He was a scout and was obviously following our trail. I thought about climbing the tree in front of us but I was too afraid of getting comatised like the last time I talked to a strange oak. Running was no good either. The forest wasn’t thick enough to slow down a rider. I had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. I drew the Lawnmower and waited. I still could only make out their silhouettes. The scout spotted where we had bedded down, and then looked directly to the tree we were hiding behind.

I stepped out and said, ‘Who goes there?’

The scout dismounted and pushed back his hood. Hair cascaded over the scout’s shoulders like a cheesy shampoo commercial. It was only when she placed the light next to her face that everything instantly became all right again in The Land.

‘Conor,’ she yipped. She ran and crashed into me, giving me a bone-crunching hug.

‘Hi, Essa. Miss me?’

A fire was built and food was brought. Essa sent a message back to Castle Duir that we had been found and Tuan was flying in to pick us up air-ambulance style.

Ruby started jabbering on about her abduction like it was some sort of fun adventure. I’m sure that if I had experienced a similar trauma at her age I would have become a curled-up snivelling wreck, but Ruby was obviously made of sterner stuff.

As she was recounting her story I remembered something. A Banshee had said she had killed two guards.

‘Ruby, how did you escape? Weren’t you being guarded?’

Ruby crinkled up her nose at the thought of it. ‘The guards were mean. One of them saw me rubbing my worry stone and he told me to give it to him. I said no because Grandma had given it to me, so he grabbed it. Then I was alone. I just crawled along the wall until I found that way out.’

‘Ruby, what’s a worry stone?’

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a smooth pebble-sized piece of green marble with a dent in it. She held it in her hand and rubbed her thumb on the indentation. ‘I found it on the floor as I was crawling out.’

‘Can I see it?’ Essa asked. ‘I promise to give it back.’

As Ruby handed it over, a thought formed in my mind. I reached out to stop Essa from touching the stone but I was too slow.

When Essa touched the pebble, she didn’t scream. It was more like she had all of the wind knocked out of her. She dropped her head down and then after catching her breath, she looked at the back of her hands. They were spidery, wrinkled and covered with spots. When she looked up, the firelight showed the eighty-year-old woman who I had first seen at the police station in the Real World.

‘Oh, not again!’ Essa said in her old woman voice.

‘What’s happening?’ Ruby asked.

‘Your worry stone, Ruby, it’s from Ireland; when Essa touched it she became the age she would be in the Real World.’

‘Damn it, damn it, damn it.’

‘She said a naughty word.’

‘Yes, Ruby, I think she did.’

I was expecting Ruby to love the ride home on dragon-back but I could tell it scared her. She held on white-knuckled and shook almost the whole way. Of course, that didn’t stop her, when she got back, from bragging about how fun it was.

The return of the prodigal son was nothing compared to Ruby’s return. I don’t think I had ever seen anybody so happy to see anybody as the residents of Castle Duir were with the rearrival of Ruby. Most of the people there had never seen her, but the gloom that had been hanging over the place since her kidnap broke with an exuberance that was almost like a festival. While Ruby got all the attention I just stood by and said, ‘Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.’

Brendan unaged, like, ten years instantly when he saw her. I came close to trying to separate them, he was hugging his daughter so hard, but Ruby didn’t seem to mind. Nora, who had been mad at me ever since I left her granddaughter alone in the Forest of Duir, kissed my cheek and said, ‘I have no words to tell you how grateful I am.’

‘Aw shucks, ma’am,’ I said. ‘It was nothin’.’

Graysea was very glad to see me. I got smothered with kisses and then she insisted on finning-up and giving me a thorough mermaid medical work-up. I told her I was fine, just tired, and asked her to have a look at Ruby’s hand. She healed the cut in seconds.

‘I like her better than Essa,’ Ruby said after her treatment.

‘You have seen Essa already?’ Graysea asked curtly.

‘Well, yeah,’ I said, ‘she was the one who found us in the forest. I wouldn’t worry about her, she’s … well, she’s not looking her best.’

Essa was still on her way back to Castle Duir. Tuan had offered her some dragon blood in the forest but I told her I had a plan and it might be a good idea if she stayed like that. She agreed, but wouldn’t take a dragon lift back to Duir. I think her exact words were, ‘I’ll hit the next person who treats me like an old woman.’

Essa was summed up best by Ruby who said, ‘She’s scary.’

After a night’s sleep that I had to insist upon, I sat down with Mom, Dad, Nieve, Fand and Dahy. I felt like I was reporting to the Spanish Inquisition. I told them the whole story of what had happened on my way to the Yewlands. When I got to Hermy, Dad interrupted.

‘What did you say his name was?’

‘Sorry, I made up Hermy. Let me think. Oh yeah, just as I was rothlú-ing away he said his name was Eth.’

Dad was on his feet. ‘Eth? What else did he say?’

‘He said he was Ona’s son.’

Dad covered his mouth with his left hand. I can tell when he’s emotional because he never uses his right hand – the one that was missing for so long. As I watched him and waited for him to speak, it came to me where I had heard that name before. Eth was Dad’s best friend. He was the one who was with Dad on the day of the boat race. When Dad woke up in the infirmary he had blamed Eth for the loss of his hand and Eth left – never to be seen again.

‘I have to go to Thunder Bay at once.’

‘Hold on, Dad,’ I said. ‘There is other stuff I have to tell you and I think there is somewhere I have to go first.’

Mom gave Dad one of those one-second looks that conveyed an entire paragraph of information. It instantly said, ‘I know you’re upset, but calm down, we have to think about this.’ It also said, ‘I love you.’ It’s amazing what women can do with just a look and a tiny finger movement.

I continued recanting my adventure. When I got to Cialtie and his witch’s Shadowcasting, it was my mother’s turn to get upset. When I told her about how Ruby’s blood was used to darken the shadow of her rune she reached to her neck and pulled her rune from under her top. It was dark red, almost black.

‘It suddenly went dark two days ago,’ Mom said.

‘Yeah, that would be about right.’

And then I upset everybody by telling them that Maeve was back. Of all people, it was Fand who was still calm enough to make light of my story. She said, ‘Conor, you are many things but you are never dull.’

‘And I’m not even done yet. The reason Ruby was able to escape from the Ivy Lodge was because she killed her two guards.’

I’m not sure who said ‘What?’ but I’m pretty sure it was everybody.

I reached into my pocket and took out Ruby’s marble worry stone. Mom went to reach for it but I stopped her. ‘Don’t touch it, Mom, that little thing will kill you.’

‘What is it?’

‘It’s a stone from a place on the west coast of Ireland called Connemara. They call it Connemara marble. Nora said she bought it on a trip over there. She says that she was aware of major ley-lines while she was in Connemara. Ages ago, Spideog showed me a stone axe that he had brought back from the Real World but it was only a wooden handle. He said the stone vanished in the portal during his journey back to The Land.’

‘That is correct,’ Mom said. ‘Stone will not pass between the worlds.’

‘Well, this did,’ I said picking up the worry stone. ‘And I’m pretty sure if anyone in The Land touches it, it’s exactly like when they touch the ground in the Real World. They become their actual Real World age.’

‘That is an interesting theory,’ Dahy said.

‘It’s more than a theory, Master D,’ I said as I walked to the door. I opened it and the eighty-year-old Essa came in.

‘Oh my dear,’ Fand said. ‘Did you …’

‘Yes, I touched the damn rock,’ Essa said, already tired of having to explain her looks.

‘Why haven’t you spoken to Tuan and changed back?’

‘’Cause Essa is going to help me with something. We’re going to go on a trip.’

‘A trip,’ Dad said. ‘To where?’

‘I thought we’d go and get some more of this stuff.’

SEVENTEEN

CONNEMARA

‘Tell me again why we didn’t bring horses?’ Essa said as she looked around at the nothingness in all directions.

Essa, Brendan and I had arrived at the Fairy Fingers about ten minutes earlier. Mom, Nieve and Fand had communed with Nora, who was becoming a bit of an insta-sorceress, and they searched for ley-lines on the west coast of Ireland. It was not surprising to learn that for travelling back and forth between the Real World and Tir na Nog, Ireland was ley-line central. The problem was there were so many magic spots in the Emerald Isle that it was hard to find the right one. Especially when the most recent map Mom had of Ireland looked like it was printed on woolly mammoth skin. It was concluded that a stone circle called the Fairy Fingers would be the nearest place to Connemara. Fand said Cullen, or should I say Cucullen, built it to mark his favourite portal spot. She added, ‘He was always building crap like that.’ I loved how Fand incorporated ‘crap’ into her daily language ever since I taught it to her.

The Fairy Fingers had a sign pointing to it from the road but no other signs around gave us any help as to what direction civilisation lay. Assuming that the time of day was the same here as in The Land (a big assumption) we decided to walk in the opposite direction to the sun and trudge west. That way if we didn’t find any people, at least the sea would stop us from walking for ever.

‘Because,’ I said answering Essa, ‘people in the modern Real World don’t ride horses. It would draw attention to us.’

Sometimes I think the gods just spend all of their time messing with my life ’cause at that moment we heard the unmistakable clip-clop of horses’ hooves followed by two riders cantering up the middle of the road behind us. Essa gave me one of her most reproachful stares. I turned to Brendan for support.

‘Tell her that’s just a fluke. People don’t ride horses around here.’

‘As much as I enjoy watching Conor make a fool out of himself, he’s right,’ Brendan said, ‘people don’t ride horses any more.’

Apparently the gods don’t just screw with me, they mess with Brendan as well ’cause immediately after saying that, four more riders cantered up behind us. Brendan and I just stared at each other open-mouthed as Essa shook her head.

‘Are you certain that you two are from here?’ Essa asked.

‘We’re not from here,’ Brendan said, ‘we’re from a different part of the Real World but still – this isn’t the middle of nowhere – this is Ireland. I’m certain they have the internal combustion engine here.’

‘Could Mom have sent us back in time?’

‘If I had to choose between Deirdre sending us back in time or you two being idiots …’ Essa stared at us and then said, ‘Do I really have to finish that sentence?’

Several more groups of horses rode past. I really started to think that we were in the past until I saw one of the riders wearing a pair of Nikes. One thing I’m certain of is that Nikes were definitely around at the same time as cars. The question is – where were the cars and why was everybody riding?

A pony and cart came up behind us with an old man holding the reins. ‘Get out of the way, you idiots,’ he shouted.

He had plenty of room but we moved further over to the side of the road.

As he went, by I asked, ‘Why is everybody on horseback?’

‘Because they’re not so stupid as to be walking like you.’

Obviously this was not the runner up in the Connemara Miss Congeniality contest. Brendan and I smiled at each other and let him past but Essa said, ‘Excuse me, can we get a lift in your cart?’

His reply would have made a sailor blush.

‘He said a dirty word,’ Brendan said, doing an imitation of his daughter.

‘I believe you are right, Detective Fallon.’

Brendan and I thought it was funny. Old lady Essa, though, seemed to have outgrown her sense of humour. She reached into her pocket, took out a gold sphere and then blew on it in the direction of the cart. The old man keeled over in his seat and the horse veered off towards the side of the road and stopped. Brendan and my smiles vanished as we ran to the old guy. He was out cold.

‘What did you do to him?’ Brendan asked.

Essa slowly sauntered up to the old guy and placed her hands on both sides of his head. ‘He will be fine. He’s just asleep. Throw him in the back.’

Brendan and I looked at each other.

‘You can either throw him in the back and cover him with some of that burlap or we can stand around staring at each other until someone comes along and starts asking questions.’

When Essa talks like that there really is no other choice than to do what she says. I picked up the old guy under his shoulders and Brendan got his feet.

As we were carrying him, Brendan said, ‘In all of my time as a cop I always wondered how so many nice people ended up leading a life of crime. I’m starting to understand now.’

Essa took the reins and Brendan and I sat on the back of the cart with our legs dangling over the end. It was painfully slow. Riders continually passed us. One shouted, ‘Nice pony.’ To which I replied, ‘Nice horsey.’ We eventually passed houses with cars outside but still we didn’t see anyone driving. I wanted to ask why everybody was on horses but when you cart-jack an octogenarian it’s best to keep a low profile.

After what seemed like days, with every person who rode by looking at us like we were under a microscope, we came to a large plastic road sign that read, ‘ROAD CLOSED FOR PONY FESTIVAL.’

It was getting to be around lunchtime and the town was hopping. In all directions there were ponies and horses in stables, attached to ponycarts and with riders. Stalls were set up selling saddles, bridles and all sorts of horsey things. An old-fashioned blacksmith was firing up a forge and performing a horse-shoeing demonstration. And underfoot everywhere was horse crap. All of the festival goers were wearing rubber wellington boots – I on the other hand still had on those flimsy Brownies slippers. I had a look around town to see if there was a proper shoe store but it didn’t look like this was a place where I could get a new pair of Nikes.

‘You know what?’ Brendan said with a smile worthy of Fergal. ‘I’d really like a Guinness.’

‘A what?’ Essa said.

‘I’ll show you,’ Brendan said, pointing to a pub.

Essa parked the cart and the sleeping old man as far back in the parking lot as she could.

The pub smelled of horse manure, decades of stale beer and peat fire smoke. I instantly felt like I could spend some serious time in there. Essa and I found a low table and Brendan went up to the bar to ask where he could change his dollars into local currency. Standing next to him a tall American offered to swap him enough for a few pints and sandwiches. The American, wearing a new tweed flat cap, even helped him carry the food over to the table.

‘So y’awl from Scranton too?’ the tall American asked in a Dixie accent. He didn’t wait for an answer and sat down without an invite.

‘Santa’s Car,’ he said, hoisting his pint for a toast. ‘I learned that today.’

‘Sláinte Mhaith?’ I said.

‘Yeah, that’s it. A local told me it was Gaelic for “Here’s mud in your eye”.’

‘I’m not sure if that’s the literal translation.’

‘No? No matter, I’ve got so much Guinness in me I won’t remember tomorrow. I’m Alexander Hawthorn-Twait. Now don’t get all excited about the fancy name. My granddaddy was a Texas horse thief who went straight and gave himself a fancy title. I’m just a normal millionaire grandson of a horse thief. Friends call me Al. So where’d yooaall say you were from?’

‘I’m a Scrantonian too,’ I said.

‘And how about you ma’am?

‘I am from Munn.’

The American lit up. ‘Well my, my, I’d never have thought I’d find me someone from my neck of the woods out here in the middle of nowhere. But I don’t know a Munn, Kentucky?’

Essa was speaking English using one of my Aunt Nieve’s magic spells. The result was that she sounded to the listener like she was speaking in the accent that they were most familiar with. I didn’t hear it because to me it sounded as if Essa was speaking ancient Gaelic.

Before Essa could say anything I reached over, patted her hand and said, ‘Essa has a habit of mimicking people’s accents. Don’t you dear?’ I turned back to our guest and secretly twirled my finger around my ear.

‘Oh, OK,’ he said, ‘well, you tell your mother I think that’s charming.’

‘I am not his mother,’ Essa said.

Brendan actually spit out his mouthful of Guinness.

‘I beg your pardon.’

Brendan continued to laugh and like a yawn I caught it too. We both giggled like schoolboys as Essa got angrier.

‘What’s so funny?’ Al asked, confused.

‘Brendan pointed to me and said, ‘She’s his girlfriend.’

‘I am not.’

Maybe it was the Guinness we had drunk, or the look on Essa’s face, or maybe just the niceness of being back in the Real World again but Brendan and I lost it. We were laughing so hard we couldn’t speak.

Al looked uncomfortable. ‘I think you boys are pulling my leg.’

Essa heard that and actually looked under the table and Brendan laughed so hard he fell off his chair.

‘You folks are very strange.’ Al stood up to leave.

I wanted to say something, apologise; I knew we were being rude but I just couldn’t get any words out. Al stomped off and Brendan and I continued like that until Essa’s deadly stares calmed us down.

I raised a toast, ‘To Santa’s Car.’

Essa finally took a sip of her Guinness. When she placed her glass back on the table she sported a white Guinness moustache.

‘Well, watcha think?’ Brendan asked.

‘Can I have something that isn’t black?’

Brendan figured that we had made too much of a spectacle of ourselves in the pub to then ask questions about where we could get marble, so he left us to nurse our pints and went to ask around town. Essa and I sat in silence. Al went back to drinking at the bar, periodically giving us strange looks.

Finally Essa said, ‘I would really like to get back to The Land soon so I can no longer be mistaken for your grandmother.’

‘You do make a lovely grandma.’

‘Would hitting you in here draw attention to us?’ she said.

‘Yes.’

‘You’re lucky then.’

We didn’t have enough money to buy anything else so we took tiny sips of our drinks and politely declined every time a barmaid came by and asked us if we wanted anything else. I got the distinct impression that we weren’t spending enough money in there.

I got up to use the loo. While I was in there I heard a commotion in the pub. As soon as I opened the men’s room door I saw a chair flying through the air and heard Essa screaming, ‘Get your hands off of me.’

A policeman shouted, ‘She’s got something in her hand. She’s got a gun!’

Everyone was on their feet. I saw Essa’s hand being held over her head as her golden ball was prised out of her fingers. There were three cops around her. I knew I couldn’t help her in this crowded pub so, while everyone was looking at her being cuffed, I dropped my chin and began to walk out the door. On the bar I spotted Al’s new tweed cap. I swiped it and put it on low so it covered my eyes.

Outside an ambulance was trying to revive the old man. He was still asleep. I could tell that ’cause he was snoring and it was loud. The snoring must have been what made someone look underneath the burlap.

I wandered around town, periodically stopping to admire a pony or peruse a saddle stall. Basically I just tried to look anonymous while keeping an eye out for Brendan. Luckily I spotted him as he was making his way back into the pub. I spun him around and told him to keep walking and act normal.

‘What’s the matter with you, O’Neil?’

‘Essa’s been arrested.’

‘What?’

‘Yeah, three of your guys got her in the pub while I was in the men’s room. Somebody found the old guy in the back of the cart. He got taken away in an ambulance.’

‘I would have thought Essa would blow the place up before she allowed herself to be arrested.’

‘She was about to but they wrestled that gold ball thing out of her hand before she could do anything. Now she’s just a crazy eighty-year-old woman with an attitude problem.’

Brendan thought for a moment and despite our situation, smiled. ‘I bet she said some naughty words too.’

‘Yeah, I imagine she did,’ I said matching his smile.

‘So what now, another jail break?’

‘I’ve never tried one without any magic backup,’ I said.

‘We have to reunite Essa with her magic ball,’ Brendan said. ‘Not only is it our only weapon – it’s how we get back to Tir na Nog.’

That hadn’t occurred to me. ‘Oh yeah. Any ideas?’

‘Well, it’s risky, but I could see if the local police will extend a little professional courtesy.’

The police station was in the next town over. Brendan had exchanged all of his money so we had enough for a cab but the one cab driver in town was busy ‘fleecing rich Yanks’, so we took the bus.

The police station was attached to a veterinary practice. Brendan initially told me to wait outside while he went in but I refused. I didn’t want to be waiting outside for hours wondering what the hell had gone wrong. My initial idea was to steal a sheep and then mistakenly take it in to the cop station instead of the vet’s. That way I would be inside to see what happened. That drew one of those looks from Brendan that stifles all further discussion. Finally we came up with the simpler plan of me going in first and reporting a lost wallet. Sure, it made more sense, but it just didn’t have the panache of my sheep idea.

I suspect that in this tiny Irish town a lost wallet would have been the highlight of the day, but on this particular one they had a bona fide crazy criminal locked up in their cell. (Well, it wasn’t a cell, it was just a windowless office, but for now it was a cell.) The garda (what they call cops there) hardly listened to me and handed me a pen and a lost property form. While I was dawdling over my paperwork, Brendan came in.

Actually what I should say is Detective Fallon of the Scranton Fraternal Order of Police stormed in. He didn’t pause to introduce himself. He strode up to the counter, flashed his badge and ID and said, ‘I want to speak to your superior officer.’

The old policeman was taken aback. ‘Ah, he’s unavailable at this time.’

A younger cop came from the back.

‘Where is he?’ Brendan demanded.

‘I think he’s castrating a cat.’

Well, that would explain the police station being next to a veterinarian’s office, I thought.

‘I can get him,’ the younger cop said. ‘Who should I say wants him?’

Brendan flashed his badge and ID again but the young cop insisted on looking at it carefully.

‘Detective Brendan Fallon of the Scranton, Pennsylvania PD. Is that correct?’

‘Yes,’ Brendan replied brusquely.

‘I’ll be back in a moment,’ the young cop said.

‘Would this be concerning the woman we arrested today?’ the older cop asked.

‘I would prefer to speak to your superior,’ Brendan said.

‘I’m not sure you do,’ he said, but before Brendan could ask him why, the young cop appeared in the doorway with his hands behind his back. He stepped up to Brendan and then brought out what I thought was a gun. He pulled a trigger and two darts attached to wires exploded out of the front of the thing. The darts hit Brendan in the chest and he started dancing around like a puppet on a string.

The taser stopped humming and Brendan slid to the ground.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ the old cop shouted.

The young cop pulled the electric darts out of Brendan’s chest, ‘Jeez, did you see that? This thing really works.’

‘I can see that it works,’ the old guy said. ‘But what the hell did you do it for?’

The young cop rolled Brendan onto his side and reached for his handcuffs. ‘This fella’s a fugitive. Remember I was telling you about that America’s Most Wanted programme I watch on the teli? This guy is wanted by the FBI. He blew up a police station and kidnapped a G-man, or a young girl … I can’t remember, but this is him.’

Brendan was coming to as the cop secured the cuffs. I backed out of the room and mumbled, ‘I’ll come back when you’re less … busy.’ I pulled my stolen cap over my eyes and left. The two cops hardly noticed me.

I got outside and said the only thing I could think of. ‘Oh crap.’

EIGHTEEN

CONNEMARA MAEVE

I got a room in Mrs McDunna’s Bed and Breakfast. It was not as cheap as I would have liked, but then again, I didn’t have any money so she wasn’t going to get paid anyway. I spent my first night hidden in my room in case the cops figured out that I was the third member of the international crime syndicate they were arresting.

Mrs McDunna’s Irish breakfast was gorgeous. Since the next prospect I had of eating again was this time the next day, I ate an entire loaf of her home-made soda bread. It was lovely but sat in my stomach like a rock. She asked me what I was going to do that day. I panicked and said I was going to buy a pony. So half an hour later I left to pretend to buy one.

The town was nice, but it only took an hour to see every nook and cranny of it. I cased out the police/vet office. There was a door in the back. I snuck up and tried it but it was locked. I knew I should have taken classes in burglary when I was growing up.

By late afternoon I was starving. As I was passing a tea shop with a couple of tables outside, I saw an old lady get up to leave. I quickly dropped into her empty chair and ate the sandwich crusts she had left behind. I checked the tea pot and poured a lukewarm half cup of black tea into her old cup and washed down my salvaged scraps.

‘You seem to have gotten younger since sitting here.’

I looked up and a pretty young waitress was staring at me with her arms crossed.

‘And I changed sex as well.’ I put down my cup. ‘This is really amazing tea.’

She was trying to be stern but that got her. She laughed and uncrossed her arms. ‘So what’s your story?’

‘I lost my wallet,’ I said. ‘I’m waiting for money from my bank but they seem to be sending it via camel train.’

‘So you’ve no money?’

‘Not until tomorrow at the earliest,’ I lied.

‘Well, we’re closing up here.’

‘Oh, of course,’ I said, standing.

She sighed and shook her head. ‘Sit,’ she said, taking away the old woman’s plates. ‘I’ll bring you a proper cup of tea.’

She did, as well as some scones that stopped me from wanting to eat my shoes.

I waited for her as she locked the front door. ‘Thanks for that,’ I said.

‘Don’t mention it. I’ve always been a soft touch for vagabonds.’

‘Well, on behalf of vagabonds and deadbeats everywhere, I salute you.’

She stood stock still and then just stared at me. Her scrutiny was intense. I felt like I was being scanned by a tree. ‘What is your name?’

‘Conor.’

‘What aren’t you telling me, Conor?’

That question made the scones do a little flip in my tummy. ‘I haven’t really told you anything.’

‘No,’ she said elongating the o like she was figuring something out. ‘You haven’t, have you? I think you should take me to dinner.’

‘Actually, I did tell you one thing. I have no money, remember?’

‘OK, I’ll take you to dinner and you can pay me back when your money shows up.’

Part of me wanted to turn her down. She had a look about her that reminded me of a CIA interrogator in a spy movie. But the part of me that eats said, ‘Great idea.’

‘So is this a traditional Irish dish?’ I said, pointing to my chicken vindaloo.

‘Yes – curry is very Irish, right after cockles, mussels and stew.’

I took a big sip of beer to calm the fire on my tongue. ‘Well, thank you … You know, I don’t even know your name.’

‘It’s Maeve, and I should be thanking you. You’re paying for this – eventually.’

‘Maeve, oh my. That’s a name with some history behind it. Is it a family name?’

‘No. My ma always said she named me that because I was born a troublemaker.’

‘Are you still a troublemaker?’

‘What do you think?’

‘Well, you do seem to have a penchant for having dinner with strange men.’

‘Strange,’ she said, rewearing that X-ray look of hers. ‘Yes, “strange” is the right word when explaining you. Where are you from?’

‘Scranton.’

She stared again. ‘Where are you reeeeely from?’

‘Scraaaaaaanton.’

‘I can tell when you’re lying.’

‘I’d show you my driver’s licence …’

‘But you lost your wallet. Convenient.’

‘OK,’ I said, ‘how about this. I live in the mystical Land of Tir na Nog, on top of a gold mine, and I’m here on a secret mission to get magical stones to stop the impending attack of my evil uncle and your namesake Queen Maeve.’

My confession didn’t make my date smile as fast as I thought it would but finally the corners of her mouth turned upwards. ‘And what do you do in this magical land?’

‘Oh, I’m a prince, of course. I’m surprised you had to ask.’

‘I see. So, Prince Conor, if you live on a gold mine why are you so broke?’

‘Oh I have gold with me; I just can’t find any place to change it into money.’

‘Can I see your gold?’

‘I don’t carry it around. It’s … well, it’s heavy.’

She finally broke in to a full-blown laugh. ‘You know I almost felt like I believed you, but you went too far with the prince thing.’

‘You don’t think I’m princely?’ I said with mock indignation.

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘Good, all that bowing and yes Your Highness stuff really annoys me.’

‘I can imagine how trying that must be.’

I offered to walk Maeve home but she said since she paid for the date she got to walk me home. Outside my B&B she asked, ‘Is there a princess in your world?’

There was something about this woman that made me want to tell her the truth. ‘Yes, but she’s eighty years old, and I’m also kinda seeing a mermaid.’

She smiled and kissed me on the cheek. ‘You can find me at the tea shop when your money arrives.’ As she walked away she said over her shoulder, ‘Good night, Prince Conor.’

I had had a wonderful night and that was the problem. I felt guilty. I shouldn’t have been out having fun while my friends were in jail and I was no closer to figuring out how to help them or get back to The Land. I spent half the night staring at the ceiling trying to figure out what to do and awoke no closer to a solution.

After another soda-bread-filled breakfast, I spent most of the next day watching the comings and goings of the vet office/police station. My only hope was that these people were stupid enough to leave this place unguarded so I could just walk in and break out my pals. But I guess that the rule – prisoners must be guarded – had made it even to the west coast of Ireland.

Since I didn’t have any money to pay her back, I had meant to stay away from Maeve’s tea house but by about four in the afternoon loneliness and, if I’m honest, hunger forced me to swallow my pride and see her. I confessed that I still had no money. When I started to go she commanded me to sit and brought me sandwiches and tea.

‘I’ll add it to your bill.’

She then invited me to a pub that night to meet her friends. When I said no she said, ‘Tonight is my treat.’ I said I’d try and went back to the B&B.

I had no intention of going. Along with feeling guilty for taking advantage of the poor girl, I also thought meeting a bunch of people seemed like a bad idea. After all, I was spending my days casing out a police station trying to plan a jail break. I’m pretty sure that when you are about to commit a huge felony, one should keep a low profile. But the bored lonely guy talked the rational soon-to-be felon out of it and I showed up at the pub. It was busy in there. At the corner of the bar were a water jug and some glasses so I helped myself to a glass of water so I wouldn’t look too out of place. There were lots of young people around but Maeve wasn’t there. I guess I had waited too long to make up my mind. I was about to leave when she walked in.

‘Oh, I hope you haven’t been waiting all this time.’ She was a bit flushed like she had been running.

‘No, I just got here.’

‘Oh good, sorry I’m late. My father had a guest over for dinner and I had to eat with them.’

‘I’m sorry to pull you away.’

‘Don’t be. The guy was such a drip. You’d think an FBI man would be interesting, wouldn’t you?’

I started choking on my water but managed to calm down quickly enough to ask, ‘Your father’s guest is an American FBI agent?’

‘Yes, can you imagine?’

‘And what does your father do?’

‘He’s a policeman.’

It took all of my will to keep a calm exterior. ‘And do you remember the FBI man’s name?’

‘I’m not sure I do. I didn’t like him much … It was an Italian name.’

‘Was it Agent Murano?’

‘Yes. How did you know that?’

‘Ah … I … think I met him today. You know, walking around town.’

‘Is he here because of you?’

My heart pounded in my chest. I looked around to see where the nearest exit was. ‘Me?’

‘Yes. Do you think the FBI is here to investigate your lost wallet?’ She laughed and asked me what I would like to drink.

‘I … actually, Maeve, I have been waiting a long time and I don’t feel very well. I really have to go.’

I knew I wouldn’t be able to sustain small talk so I unceremoniously left. As I was walking away I heard her shout after me, ‘Conor,’ but I kept going. I needed to think.

Back in the B&B I really didn’t feel well. This was a serious mess. I wondered how the hell I could get out of it. I went through all sorts of scenarios, including putting my finger in my pocket and pretending I had a gun. I finally settled on watching tomorrow until there was only one person in the station and then attacking with a banta stick. This worried me. We were in the real world and hitting people with sticks could kill them, but I had to get Essa and Brendan out of there before they were moved to a bigger city – or worse, extradited back to the USA. With a plan, of sorts, I placed my head on the pillow and managed sleep. I used to complain how my nights were dreamless in the Real World but it didn’t bother me this night.

I heard the bedroom door as it closed. By then it was too late. I opened my eyes to the sight of an Irish policeman aiming a taser at my forehead.

‘My daughter told me you were staying here.’

‘Honest, sir,’ I said, staring cross-eyed at the needles of the taser, ‘I didn’t even kiss her.’

He backed up and sat in a chair. I sat up in bed.

‘Where did you come from?’

‘Scranton, Pennsylvania.’

The policeman looked casually at the weapon in his hand. ‘I had never actually seen one of these things fire before your friend got it in the chest the other day. He said it was very painful.’

‘I really am from Scranton.’

‘I didn’t ask you where you were from, I asked where you came from. My chief and your FBI have already checked and Detective Fallon didn’t enter Ireland on his passport. So how did you get here and where did you come from?’

I dropped back into the bed and spread my arms wide. ‘Shoot,’ I said.

‘Come again?’

‘Shoot me. If I tell you the truth you won’t believe me. In fact, if I tell my story around here you’ll probably think I was making fun of you. So shoot me and get it over with.’

‘Before I shoot you, Mr O’Neil … You are Conor O’Neil, yes?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. Denying it at this point would have been stupid.

‘I may believe more than you think. Have you noticed what language we are speaking?’

I hadn’t, not really. Because my father is a tyrannical linguist, it’s normal for me to just drop into the language that is being spoken to me. Connemara is a gaeltacht, which means that a lot of people around here speak modern Irish. I had impressed a few of the locals by simply chatting to them in their language. But as I thought back on the nice chat me and the armed policeman were having, I realised we weren’t speaking Irish, we were talking in ancient Gaelic. ‘Where did you learn this language?’

‘My parents taught it to me. I also have read all of your father’s published work on pronunciation. I’ve always wondered where he got his insight. But I am not here to answer your questions. You are here to answer mine. How did you get here and from where?’

‘Could I pee first?’

NINETEEN

MÍCHEÁL

‘How about I shoot you with this, you’ll definitely pee yourself then.’

‘OK, OK, I came from Tir na Nog. Detective Fallon, Essa and I arrived two days ago by way of ley-lines that intersect at the Fairy Fingers.’

The cop lowered his gun. ‘Mick O’Hara said the last thing he remembered was passing the Fairy Fingers.’

‘Is that the old guy we stole the cart from?’

‘It is.’

‘Yeah, sorry about that. Is he OK?’

The policeman laughed. ‘He’s fine. I don’t recommend apologising to him in person. Not unless you want your ears ripped off.’

‘I really could use that pee now.’

‘One more question and maybe I’ll let you relieve yourself. Are you from the House of Luis?’

OK, speaking ancient Gaelic is one thing but using Ogham made it almost unnecessary for me to walk to the bathroom for that pee. ‘What do you know of Luis?’

The cop looked me hard in the eyes; it felt like the look a poker opponent has when he is deciding to bluff or not. ‘I want to know if I’m speaking to a Fili.’

‘What do you know of the Fili?’

‘Are you Fili?’ he said raising his taser again.

‘No.’

He stood and walked menacingly towards me. ‘What is your house?’

‘Duir,’ I said with a pride that surprised me.

‘Well, I wouldn’t want it be said that the first Faerie I met wet himself.’ The policeman pocketed his gun and gestured towards the door. I got up and threw on a pair of trousers. As I reached the door he said, ‘If you try to escape I’ll find you, and if that happens I’ll have to hand you over to Special Agent Murano. We wouldn’t want that, would we?’

There was a window in the bathroom and I could have escaped that way if I wanted to, but he was right. Where would I go? The only plan I had come up with was to either single-handedly attack a police station or wait at the Fairy Fingers until someone came from The Land to see what happened to us. Now that I was busted by this guy I couldn’t do the former and I didn’t have time to wait around for the latter. Besides, this cop intrigued me. Where did he learn all of this stuff? And maybe, just maybe, he was an ally. When he said ‘we’ was that just a manner of speech or did he mean ‘we’? If he was an ally, I could really use one right now.

The cop was in the hallway when I returned. ‘You have a name?’

‘Mícheál.’

‘So what now, Officer Mícheál?’

‘Well now, I’ve persuaded Mrs McDunna to cook me breakfast. Would you care to join me?’

We talked quietly but it didn’t matter. I’m sure there were very few people around that could decipher a language that no one had spoken for several millennia.

‘Why haven’t you turned me over to the FBI?’ was my first question.

‘Partly because Murano is an idiot.’

‘He’s a sadistic idiot,’ I added.

‘That does not surprise me. My daughter took an instant dislike to him. She is usually a very good judge of character.’

‘She likes me.’

That drew a stern look. ‘Don’t push it, O’Neil.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Now, tell me what you are doing here.’

‘If I do,’ I said, ‘and you don’t like what you hear, are you going to arrest me?’

‘That depends whether I like what I hear or not.’

‘My father is the Lord of Duir.’

‘Your father is Finn?’

I was shocked again at his knowledge of The Land. I needed to be careful what I said to this guy. ‘No, that was my grandfather but he is dead. My father, the one that the FBI and everyone in Scranton thinks I killed, is the new King of Duir.’

Mícheál took all of this in his stride. He wasn’t incredulous at all. In fact, he increasingly looked eager for more news. ‘This still doesn’t explain why you are here.’

‘The Land is at war. I came here to get something that will help us in the upcoming battle.’

‘What?’

‘Before I answer, can I ask you a question?’

‘I suppose you deserve some questions answered.’ He nodded yes.

‘Why did you call your daughter Maeve?’

‘When she was born she cried all the time for the first month of her life, it was maddening. There was nothing we could do to appease her. Every hour of the day when she wasn’t eating or sleeping she was shrieking. My wife said if she was going to be this much trouble we might as well name her after the biggest troublemaker of all.’

I thought back to the conversation I had had with Nora and said, ‘You’re a Druid, aren’t you?’

Mícheál snickered at that. ‘Druids are misguided hippies who go barefoot and wear woolly robes.’

‘But you’re not that kind of Druid, are you?’

His false smile vanished. ‘No.’

‘You know where your ancestors came from and you know why they had to leave.’

‘I have been told that we were banished because we followed a sorceress that had the same name as my daughter.’

Here was the moment of truth – this was the moment where I had to decide whose side he was on. It wasn’t a hard decision; without his help I was sunk. ‘Queen Maeve is back and if you don’t help us she will destroy every tree in Tir na Nog to fuel her lust for power.’

The garda sat back in his chair and placed his hand to his cheek like he had been slapped. Finally he said, ‘Many of us thought this day would come and we have debated what to do.’

‘There are more of you?’

‘Yes.’

‘What I need to know, Mícheál, is what will you do?’

It didn’t take long for him to decide. He leaned in and said, ‘What do you need?’

I told him about the marble. He suggested I stay out of sight all day in case Murano were to accidentally spot me.

‘I’ve been here too long,’ Mícheál, said standing. ‘Meet me after dark outside the tea shop. I’ll take you to The Grove.’

Before he left I grabbed his arm and said, ‘You couldn’t lend me some money could ya, I’d kill for a toothbrush.’

Maeve was the one to show up after dark at the tea shop. She was riding a motorscooter.

‘Da says you lost your marbles.’

‘In a manner of speaking.’

‘He also says you’re never going to pay me back for that dinner.’

‘That, I’m afraid, is true.’

‘I sure can pick ’em. Hop on.’

We drove to an old barn on the outskirts of town. Inside were about fifty men and women. The Grove turned out to be not a place but the collective noun for a group of Druids. Imagine a room full of bearded men and wild-haired women in hooded robes, and then throw out that image. The Grove was made up of normal-looking butcher, banker, baker types. The only thing they had in common was a story handed down from mother to son and father to daughter for scores of generations. A story that said their ancestors were expelled from The Land of Immortals. There must now in the Real World have been over a hundred thousand descendants of the original Fili; this group were the last ones, the only ones to keep the faith. The only ones to have never broken the chain.

My arrival silenced what seemed to have been a heated debate.

Maeve was the first to break the silence. ‘Are you really a prince?’

‘I’m afraid I am.’

Someone in the crowd said, ‘A Prince of Oak?’

‘Hazel and Oak, yes.’

A young man dressed in motorcycle leathers came to the fore, ‘My name is Cullum. How do we know you are what you say?’

‘It’s a fair question, Cullum. I can offer no proof until after you help me. If at the Fairy Fingers I and my companions vanish in a puff of smoke, then you will know what I have told you is true. If nothing happens then you will know you have been made a fool of by an idiot. What have you got to lose?’

‘If I help you break your friends out of jail, I have a lot to lose.’

I started to answer but the policeman held up a hand and stopped me.

‘But I am willing to help because I believe he is what he claims to be. We have been waiting for an event like this for … for ever. Can we now pass it by for lack of faith?’

Cullum spoke again. ‘Mícheál tells us you are at war again with Maeve.’

‘This is true.’

‘Some among us harbour a hope of someday returning to Tir na Nog. Maybe our best bet is to allow Maeve to win.’

‘Maybe you’re right. I don’t know Queen Maeve, but I know her daughter Fand, who is my friend, and I know my uncle Cialtie. I know this war is not ours but has been thrust upon us by others. And I know that we are right.’

‘Can you take us back with you?’ Cullum asked.

‘No, he cannot!’ another voice shouted out. ‘He is not The One!’

What followed was pandemonium as they all started arguing in a dialect that I couldn’t quite grasp. ‘Hey, hey,’ I shouted, quieting them down. ‘There is no use arguing. Essa is our sorceress, only she could answer that.’

‘Time is short,’ Mícheál said. ‘Conor’s companions are to be transported to Dublin tomorrow.’

That was the first time I had heard that news and it shocked me.

‘I have already had the Mulhern boys, who work at the quarry, bring bags of marble offcuts to the Fairy Fingers. I won’t go against the wishes of The Grove, but I for one think we should help Conor and his friends. When our ancestors came to this place they found a simple time. Still, they didn’t subjugate, they were men and women of peace and teaching. I believe Conor when he says that he and his are not the instigators of this war. Maeve and her war was what got us into this mess – I feel it in my bones that backing Maeve again is not the way to get us out.’

I was asked to wait outside while they deliberated. Maeve said, ‘I vote with Conor,’ and came outside to keep me company.

‘Could you do me a favour?’ I asked.

‘If I can.’

‘Could you make sure Mrs McDunna gets paid, and those boys who got the marble from the quarry.’

Maeve placed her hands on her hips. ‘You want me to pay all of your bills on the money I make serving cups of tea? Not forgetting that you owe me money too.’

‘I don’t want you to pay it with your salary – I was hoping you could pay it with this.’ I pulled a bar of metal the size of a chocolate bar out of my backpack and handed it to her. She was so surprised by the weight, she almost dropped it.

‘Is this gold?’

‘Yup.’

‘And what, you found this at the end of a rainbow?’

‘Don’t be silly – but I did get it from a Leprechaun.’

‘What am I supposed to do with it?’

‘Change it for money.’

‘Where?’

‘I don’t know. If I had figured that out, I wouldn’t have been hitting you up for meals this whole time.’

She shook her head no and handed it back to me.

‘Take it, please,’ I said. ‘I really do live on a mountain of the stuff.’

A woman came out and said a decision had been made. Inside the Druids were standing almost at attention. Cullum and Mícheál stepped forward together.

‘We have decided to help,’ Cullum said.

The plan was a simple one. Mícheál was to start his shift at midnight. When the other cop left, I’d come in, we’d let Essa and Brendan out and then Essa would knock out Mícheál so he wouldn’t get into trouble.

I waited outside until the other cop, the one that tasered Brendan the other day, left and then I just walked in the front door. It was easy – too easy. I was just inside the station and walking up to the counter when I heard the door open behind me and a familiar, if not pleasant, voice said, ‘Conor O’Neil.’

I turned to see Special Agent Andrew Murano wearing one of those grins. You know like when a power-hungry fast-food manager catches a teen employee stealing a chicken nugget.

‘Oh, crap.’

‘An American I met over here told me a young Scrantonian stole his cap. I was almost back to my room when I saw a cap-wearing young man skulking around in the dark.’

‘Well, aren’t you quite the detective,’ I said, more casually than I felt. This was not good.

‘Officer,’ Agent Andy said in his over-practised FBI voice, ‘arrest that man, he’s in cahoots with the other two.’

I turned and looked Mícheál in the eye. For a moment we communicated wordlessly and he seemed to be saying, ‘Do it.’ So I slugged him. Not hard but I made contact. I even threw in a grunt to make it sound more vicious than it was. The cop went down behind the counter with a loud moan. I picked up a stapler and brandished it towards the G-man. Murano instinctively reached for his gun but he didn’t have one. The Irish wouldn’t let him bring one into the country. Mícheál moaned loudly, which made me glance at him. He was pointing to something under the counter. I quickly reached to where he was indicating as Murano was saying something predictable like, ‘Give it up’ or ‘There’s nowhere to run’, but he stopped mid-sentence when I levelled the taser at his chest.

I could see he was trying to be cool but underneath he was soiling his underwear. ‘You don’t even know how to use that thing,’ he said.

‘I bet I do.’

‘I’ll catch you eventually, O’Neil. There is no place for you to go.’

I dropped my weapon for a second. ‘Nowhere to go? You were there last time. Surely you remember me stepping through the portal to Faerieland?’

‘I don’t remember anything after you attacked me.’

‘Oh come on, Agent Andy. I can understand you telling that to your superiors back at the Bureau. I’ve told people about Faeries and Leprechauns and they tend to look at you funny after you do – but this is me. Surely you remember your car getting trashed by the dragon?’

The FBI man looked very uncomfortable. ‘I told you, I only remember you attacking me.’

‘Aw Andy, it’s one thing to lie to your boss but you’re just lying to yourself. Now be a nice G-man and lie down on your stomach with your hands behind your back.’

‘No.’

‘Andy, I’ve been told this taser thing hurts. Let me just tie you up nicely and we’ll be on our way.’

‘You’ll have to shoot me first.’

Anybody else I would have argued with, but as far as Agent Andy was concerned – I didn’t have to be told twice. The electrodes hit his chest and he danced around like an astronaut walking on the sun. I know it’s wrong to enjoy seeing a fellow human being suffer, but – you can’t be right all of the time.

TWENTY

ETH

Brendan and Essa were simultaneously happy to see me and furious at me for leaving them to stew in jail for so long. We locked the FBI man in a closet. Essa used the same sleeping spell on him that she used on the old cart driver. Mícheál made us tie him up and put him to sleep too, so as to allay suspicion.

‘Thank you Conor, Prince of Hazel and Oak,’ Mícheál said before Essa knocked him out.

‘I should be the one thanking you, Mícheál, Son of Rowan.’

The title obviously pleased him. ‘Eh, this is nothing; what you have done for me is far greater.’

‘And what have I done for you?’

‘You’ve shown me that I and my parents and their parents and their parents’ parents weren’t deluded superstitious fools.’

Essa took out her gold ball and began to incant.

‘Can I ask one favour?’

‘Sure, Mícheál, anything.’

‘Will you return and let us know who won?’

‘I will – if I survive – that’s a promise.’

We stole the cop car. After assaulting a garda and an FBI agent, what’s another felony among friends? A dozen of the Druids were waiting for us at the Fairy Fingers.

‘We want to come with you,’ Cullum said speaking for the group.

‘I’ve spoken to Essa about that and she doesn’t have the power to do it. I’ll speak to my mother and Fand, the Queen of the Fili, and let you know if it is possible when I come back.’

Cullum obviously didn’t like that answer but he accepted it. The crowd began to murmur and then step backwards as a humming amber circle appeared in the air in front of Essa.

‘Are you really coming back?’ Maeve asked.

‘I promised your father I would.’

‘All is ready,’ Essa announced.

‘Good,’ Maeve said. ‘I’ll buy you dinner.’

‘By then you’ll be able to afford it.’

There were six bags of broken marble. We took two bags each. Before I went through Maeve kissed me hard on the lips and then we walked into the portal.

We arrived back in the Hall of Spells. Essa walked up to me and dropped one of the bags full of rocks directly on my foot. ‘Who was she?’

While hopping on one foot, I tried to mumble out a reply but she stormed off saying, ‘I’m too old for this.’ Then she shouted, ‘Where is the dragon?’

A guard strode up to me and bowed. Now, as I have said many times, I don’t like the bowing and Your Highnessing but right then I welcomed it.

‘Oh boy,’ I said to him, ‘I could just kill a cup of tea.’

‘Your father has instructed me to bring you to the Oak Room as soon as you arrive.’

‘Tell you what, get me a cup of tea first and you will have the gratitude of the Prince of Oak.’

‘Your father ordered me to bring you – right away.’

I guess the gratitude of a king out-trumps a prince.

Dad opened his arms to greet me. I ducked underneath and dove for the bowl of fruit on the table.

‘Hungry?’

I swallowed down a mouthful of apple before I spoke. ‘Being broke in the Real World is a drag.’

‘Oh yes, son – that it is. Why do you think I taught languages to students who didn’t care? In the Real World, if you don’t work you don’t eat. Are you OK? Did you get the marble?’

My answers were unintelligible with my mouth full. Dad, instead of trying to fight me, walked to the door and ordered me a meal.

‘Now could we talk a bit before dinner arrives?’

I slowed down on the fruit and said, ‘Yeah, sorry. I’m fine and yes we have six big bags of broken marble.’

‘Good. The first thing we have to do is make sure it works. You’ll need to find a volunteer willing to insta-age who won’t turn to dust.’

‘Forget Essa, people in the Real World thought she was my grandmother.’

‘I imagine she didn’t like that.’

‘It doesn’t take much imagination.’

‘I’m putting you in charge of charting and laying the marble,’ Dad said.

‘Charting?’

‘Of course.’ Dad walked over to a table that had a map of the castle and its grounds. There were grids on all of the approaching slopes. ‘Record and number every piece of marble and log its placement.’

‘Why? Why don’t we just sprinkle the stuff around? It’ll take ten minutes.’

‘Conor, these aren’t just rocks, they’re land mines. When this war is over we have to find every one and lock them away. In three hundred years, when you are Lord of Duir, you don’t want to step on one of these things while you’re walking the dog.’

‘When I’m Lord of Duir I’m gonna get somebody else to walk my dog.’

Dad gave me his ‘this is serious time, not joke time’ look.

‘OK, OK, I see your point. I’ll start in the morning, unless it is morning. What time is it anyway?’

My dinner arrived and Dad sat with me while I filled him in on my adventures in Ireland.

‘It’s a lovely place, isn’t it?’ he said.

‘Yeah, I wish I could have relaxed more,’ I said. ‘As usual I was too busy trying to stay out of jail. You know what else? I missed trees.’

‘The older guys in The Land talk about going to Ireland in their youth and it being nothing but trees.’

‘What happened to them all?’

‘Modern man and their houses and their war ships. What is one tree when you have so many? When everyone thinks like that – well, then in time the land becomes as bald as an old admiral’s head.’ Dad thought for a while. Finally he said, ‘It is the fate of Tir na Nog if Maeve is allowed to succeed.’

I finished my meal and could hardly keep my eyes open.

‘Three more things, son.’

I did my best impression of a bored adolescent.

‘There’s a council meeting an hour after dawn tomorrow – be there.’

‘OK,’ I said with a moan.

‘Secondly, you must take your Choosing.’

‘Fine.’

‘Seriously, there is a war coming. If something happens to me …’

‘I said fine. Dad, I hate it when you talk like this.’

‘I don’t care what you hate. I’m a king and you are a prince. If I die without you holding a Duir Rune then Cialtie has a “legitimate” claim to the Oak Throne.’

‘OK, after I get a couple of hours’ sleep, I’ll go to your crack-of-dawn meeting, then I’ll mine the castle – and then I’ll take my Choosing.’

‘It’s not that easy – you must prepare.’

‘All right, all right,’ I said stumbling to my feet. ‘I’ll do anything you want. Just let me go to bed.’

Dad smiled and kissed me on the forehead. ‘Goodnight, my son.’

As I got to the door I made the mistake of saying, ‘You said “three things”?’

‘Yeah.’ Dad sighed. ‘You gotta tell your mermaid girlfriend that she can’t just barge into my office any time she wants.’

‘Firstly, she’s not my girlfriend.’

Dad gave me a ‘you’re kidding me right?’ look.

‘OK, well she’s … OK, I don’t know what she is. But what do you mean “barge” into your office?’

‘Every day, sometimes twice a day, she barges in and asks if there is any news about you. It’s exasperating.’

I started laughing. ‘Didn’t you point out that you are, like – the king?’

‘I did – several times. She doesn’t take a hint. Even when the hint is “Don’t come in here again.” She says, “Even a king must be worried about his son.”’

‘Don’t you have guards?’

‘Yes! She gets past them too. She’s amazing and annoying. Maybe I should stick her on my brother. She’d probably drive him so crazy he’d hang himself. Please tell her to stop.’

‘I’ll try.’

‘There is no try, only do or not do,’ Dad said joining his laughter with mine. ‘Do … please.’

I was so tired I don’t even remember walking back to my room. I think I actually started dreaming as I walked. When I first came to The Land, my dreams were so clear. I had never dreamt in the Real World, so when I awoke I actually had premonitions of what was to come but now as I got used to dreaming my dreams were getting like everyone else’s. Just the crazy jumbled up fast-forward video of recent events. I dreamt of Ireland and The Grove of Druid. I dreamt of stealing hats from rich Americans, of dining with Maeve and tasering FBI men, but my favourite image was the one right before I woke up. Graysea talking so much that Cialtie was holding his head and screaming.

Graysea was waiting outside my door when I got up. She did the usual smother-with-kisses greeting and then came with me to breakfast. I filled her in on all of my exploits in the Real World. I left out any mention of Maeve; I still didn’t have enough strength for that.

I excused myself but Graysea continued to follow me.

‘I’m going to a high council meeting, Graysea, I don’t think you can come.’

‘Don’t be silly. Your father loves me.’

‘Well … be that as it may. This is a war council and I don’t think you should be there.’

‘If this is about a war then I’m more needed than ever.’

I reminded myself to apologise for laughing at Dad. This mermaid was not for turning.

I was late as usual. Dahy was talking about wall fortifications. I had obviously missed something as everybody gave me that look again. Everyone was there. Mom, Dad, Dahy, Nieve, Brendan, Gerard, Araf, Tuan, Fand, and even Lorcan the Leprechaun had been dragged out of his mine and made to don a general’s cap again.

Essa was back to her beautiful young-looking self. I mouthed, ‘You look great’, but she only dagger-stared at Graysea. Dad took one look at Graysea and then at me. I shrugged, which said, I couldn’t stop her. He nodded, which said, I told you so.

The big shock was the thin guy sitting next to Dad. His hair and face looked newly cut and shaved and he wore clothes a bit too big for him. He caught me looking at him and wiggled a few fingers at me for a wave.

‘Hermy?’ I said. ‘I mean Eth?’

Dahy, who hates being interrupted, said, ‘If you had been here at the beginning of this meeting, Prince Conor, then you would have been party to introductions.’

Dad came to my rescue. ‘I had the prince up late last night; his tardiness is partly my fault. Yes, Conor, while you were away Tuan graciously offered me a lift to Thunder Bay. I reunited with my old friend Eth and he agreed to return with me.’

Eth looked as though he was going to speak. We waited and when he didn’t Dahy continued with his assessment of arrow resupply on the parapets. Dahy was mid-sentence when Eth finally spoke. ‘This is an exciting time for me.’

Eth sounded anything but excited. He spoke without emotion – or much volume. I’m pretty sure most people in the room didn’t even hear what he said.

‘It is good to be among people again. Overwhelming … but good … I think.’

Everyone leaned in and strained to hear what the hermit had to say.

‘For the first time since the Race of the Twins of Macha, I have no idea what is in store for all of us.’

We all waited, not knowing if this was just another pregnant pause or if he was done.

Finally I asked, ‘Your mother said nothing about this upcoming war?’

‘There are only two prophecies left.’

We all waited. I was just about to say, ‘And they are?’ when Fand piped up.

‘Eth is correct. I have studied the book of Ona’s prophecies that Macha stole when she kidnapped Ruby. Every event has come to pass except two. One we know. It reads: “The elder son will die at the hand of the Lord of Duir.” Cialtie has told Conor that this is the reason he wants the Oak Throne. If he is the king then there will be no king to kill him.’

Everyone looked to Dad, who betrayed no emotion.

‘The other foresight seems to be about the upcoming war. It says: “Trees are the salvation of the Faeries.” Fand looked to Eth. ‘Are they the two prophecies of which you speak?’

‘Essentially, yes.’

‘Do you know what the latter means? Which trees and how can they help us?’

Eth opened his mouth but it took ages for anything to come out. ‘As I am sure you are aware, my mother’s pronouncements are all too often only transparent after the event. I do not know what that means. But when these two events come to pass then the era of my mother’s visions will be at an end. Then maybe all of our lives will be our own again.’

Dad placed his hand on his old friend’s shoulder. Eth looked close to tears. Cialtie’s life wasn’t the only one that had been ruined by Ona. I wonder if in her visions she saw what a curse her gift was to be for her son.

Dahy went back to droning on about armoury supplies. I was just wondering how I could position my head so as to nod off without anybody noticing when Graysea interrupted: ‘There is going to be a war?’

Everyone silently moaned but only Essa had the courage to say what we all thought, ‘That is what we have been speaking about for the last hour.’ She uncharacteristically didn’t add, ‘You stupid trout.’

We all waited for Graysea to slink down in her seat, but the Mertain girl was not the slinking kind. ‘If we are going to be at war, then why are we talking about weapons when the first thing we should be doing is preparing the infirmary. This castle is woefully unprepared for a rash of casualties. Many more Fili- and Imp-healers must be recruited now, and as for supplies … I don’t even know where to begin.’

Dad looked at Mom and then to Fand, they both nodded. I smiled at Dad.

‘Thank you, Graysea,’ Dad said, ‘for pointing out our inadequacies. Would you care to assume supervision of the infirmary?’

‘Yes, my lord. I will draw up an inventory and report to you as soon as it’s done.’

‘I’m sure there is someone else you can report to.’

‘No,’ she chirped, ‘I like reporting to you.’

Dahy stood to resume his droning on but Dad mercifully stopped him. ‘Master Dahy, I’m sure we can do the rest without everyone here. You all have a thousand things to do. Dismissed.’

Outside the room I was about to tell Graysea that I had to get to work when she said, ‘I’d love to chat, Conor, but I’m too busy to just hang about.’

Looks like Dad found the answer to the Graysea problem. Just keep her busy.

I called Dahy’s platoon together and asked all the soldiers younger than twenty-five to help me. We took over the Hall of Spells and laid out all of the pieces of marble. One soldier, who had been overeager to help, had lied about his age. He touched a piece of marble and instantly became a wrinkled old man. It was a stupid thing for him to do but at least no one got hurt and it saved me from having to find a volunteer to see if the marble worked. I sent him to Graysea’s infirmary where I had heard she already had a supply of dragon blood on ice. I’m sure Tuan appreciated not being stuck with a needle every time somebody needed a face lift.

I got a bunch of paper from Nieve. Paper, being made from trees, is a rare commodity in The Land. We laid out all of the pieces of marble on the paper and then drew outlines of them with charcoal. Then we numbered the pieces and their outlines. When this was over I wanted every one of those rocks back. I got Ruby to help. She was great at outlining – she said it was like being back in school. I met Dad later that evening and showed him what I had done. He said I should write down instructions on the last piece of paper.

When I asked why, he said, ‘In case we’re not around later to tell anybody what this is.’ That was sobering.

TWENTY-ONE

MASTER EIRNIN

There wasn’t enough marble to lay land mines around the perimeter of the entire castle so we decided to lay most of the marble in the North Glen. This was the same place that Maeve had assembled her army during the last Fili war. It was there she cast the Shadowmagic spell that went wrong and vanquished her and her army. Mom and her sorceress pals had a feeling Maeve would try to repeat the same spell – this time getting it right. Dad didn’t want to give her a chance to do it from the same place.

What was left of the marble we decided to use to mine both sides of the road up to the main gate and the stable entrance. They were the weakest parts of the outer wall. This would force an aggressor to attack the main gate almost in single file. As far as the south and west battlements – well, they were up to us.

The next morning Dad called a general assembly in the courtyard to warn everyone to stay out of the glen and not stray from the main road up to the castle. My team and I spent the entire day pushing marble pieces into the ground and lightly covering them with grass cuttings. It would have only taken a couple of hours but we had to carefully log where every piece was placed for later mine removal. Finally, Dahy posted soldiers to warn anyone that this was a bad place to take a stroll with your grandmother.

I wasn’t the only busy one around. Daily groups of Imps, Faeries and Pookas arrived at the castle to swell the ranks of the army, help build fortifications, smith swords and axes, make arrows and bows, cook food in makeshift kitchens, and prepare the infirmary. Essa and Dahy were drilling the soldiers and when they weren’t, they were neck deep in the logistics of preparing for a siege. Nieve, Mom and Fand were like the three witches in Macbeth; they spent most of their time working on magical defences in their Shadowmagic laboratory, a lab that really did have a bubbling cauldron in the corner.

Everybody was pulling double duty. Lorcan was preparing the new recruits by night and spending the days inspecting the outer walls. He was worried that the mortar in the east wall, the one that had been rebuilt after the Battle of the Twins of Macha, hadn’t had long enough to set. The three witches made up some sort of Shadowmagic goo that Lorcan’s workmen and women were using to repoint the stonework.

Brendan took archery practice. Without any formal announcement Detective Fallon took Spideog’s place and became the Duir Master-at-Arms. When he wasn’t eating, sleeping or quality-timing with Ruby, he was in the armoury.

Araf tutored the soldiers in hand-to-hand combat. We all hoped it wouldn’t come to that. At night he skirted around the castle and uprooted all the flowers that he had planted and repotted them safe in a greenhouse inside the east wall.

Graysea was really in her element. I don’t think anyone had ever thought her smart enough to put her in a position of authority – what a mistake that was. She shouldered her new responsibility with the tenacity of a shark. She enlisted healers, knocked down walls and had a team of weavers working day and night making bandages. She turned the little room of healing into a full-blown hospital that included a salt-water swimming pool in the corner. Any time I stopped by to have a quick word she always told me she was too busy to talk. She looked awfully flustered but happy.

Pooka hawks came back with twice daily reports of Brownie and Banshee armies mustering for a march. No one other than me had seen Maeve and her Fili army. At one meeting Lorcan asked if I was sure I saw her but Mom had only to show her blood-blackened rune and all doubts were put to rest.

Dad wanted me to start preparing for The Choosing but since I was the only person who could walk among the yew without being judged or forced to eat poison berries, I was drafted to enter the Yewlands to ask the oldest of the trees if they knew what Ona meant when she said, ‘Trees are the salvation of the Faeries.’ Nora volunteered herself to join me.

‘You wanna get judged again?’ I joked.

‘Oh, I have no intention of chatting with a yew ever again,’ Nora said. ‘It’s just I have been cooped up in this castle worrying about my granddaughter … I’ve got this young body – I need to ride. I need to stretch my legs.’

Since we didn’t need to get to the yews at any specific time we decided that we would try to get there in a day. We left before dawn. (That was my idea, would you believe?) I don’t know if it was Nora’s new body or that she was unburdened from the worry of her granddaughter’s safety, but Nora was lightning in the saddle. I remembered thinking last time that she was a pretty good equestrian – this trip she was on fire. Her horse Blackberry seemed to obey her every whim and kept Acorn galloping a lot faster and longer than he or I liked. The sun was still pretty high in the sky when we got to the River Lugar boathouse.

I had left the royal barge in the Yewlands. I thought we were going to have to row but then found a small boat with a gold rudder. This time I had bothered to learn the incantation and we sailed towards the Yewlands oar-free.

Nora took a seat in the back of the skiff and laid her head back, closed her eyes and held her face to the sun.

‘Is this the tonic you were looking for?’

She didn’t open her eyes but smiled as a breeze took her hair. ‘It’s nice to be out of that castle.’

‘Aw come on, it’s a nice castle.’

‘That it is, Prince Conor. No offence to your little house, it’s me that needed out. I now see why you young people are moving all the time. Your bodies (and now mine) just don’t know how to sit still.’

‘So you’re not a fan of your new young frame?’

Nora laughed – a good laugh, not like the stilted things she uttered when her granddaughter was in peril. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Conor. I wouldn’t say that.’

We travelled in silence. As Nora sunned herself, I worked on my new yew staff. I carefully carved a notch all around the diameter about three quarters of the way up and then around that tied a leather loop. My thinking was that if I ever needed to lighten the staff so much as to lift me in the air, I could secure my grip with the strap. I had visions of me being thirty feet in the air and then accidentally letting go of the stick. I knew that would hurt without ever needing to experience it. I was tempted to give my new adaptation a try but decided I’d probably just end up in the water.

I pulled over at Gerard’s hut just before the entrance to the Yewlands and dropped Nora off.

‘Sure you don’t want to have a meal before you go in there?’ Nora asked.

‘No, but brew up some willow tea for when I get back. Yews give me a headache. I shouldn’t be long.’

And I wasn’t. I found the royal barge where I had left it and beached my little boat alongside. I got out and tried to speak to some trees – tried being the operative word. Just because I had the freedom of the Yewlands didn’t mean that they would speak with me. I went from tree to tree and got nothing until I took out a knife and threatened one tree that I was going to carve ‘Conor & Essa & Graysea’ inside a heart on its bark. That did the trick and I felt that familiar bone-crunching feeling as the tree made me drop the knife and fall to my knees.

‘Hey, hey,’ I said, ‘I was just trying to get your attention.’

The male and female twin voice of the yew echoed in my head. ‘Freedom of the Yewlands does not allow you to disturb our solemnity.’

‘I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just have a question.’

‘We are not hazels, we are not here to bestow knowledge.’

The tree made me stand and then spun me around. Just before it pushed me away I said, ‘I know who has been killing yews.’

The tree acted faster than I expected. ‘Who?’ it said with a voice so loud in my head I was glad I asked Nora to have that willow tea ready.

‘Maeve.’

‘Maeve is gone.’

‘She’s back. She’s been around in a Shadowghost form but now she and her army are back. I suspect she was the one that has been killing trees. In her ghost form she would have been hard to detect.’

‘Where is she?’

‘I don’t know but I do know that she will soon attack Duir. My mother thinks that with yew sap she might succeed where before she failed.’

‘Do you have more news?’

‘No, but I have a question.’

‘Ask.’

So I told the tree about Ona’s prediction about trees being the salvation of the Faeries. I waited as I felt the trees confer in the entire forest. The reply didn’t take long.

‘The yews have no knowledge of what you ask.’

‘Who would?’ I asked, but I had been released, and the yew once again ignored me. I wanted to ask again but then I laughed as I imagined the yew saying ‘What part of “no knowledge” do you not understand?’

I tied my little boat to the barge and then incanted the Ogham Dad had taught me and sailed back upstream to Nora.

Nora not only had tea ready but also soup and bread. We didn’t have time for me to sit and eat so I carried the food into the barge and let Nora navigate for a while.

‘What did the yew say?’ she asked when we had gotten under way.

‘They don’t know.’

‘Are you OK?’

‘Yes, I’m just sore.’

‘I have more tea in a flask if you’re interested.’ Nora poured me some more willow tea. ‘I remember how I felt after tangling with a yew,’ the young grandmother said.

‘Oh yeah, I forgot. You got judged by a yew without any preparation and you came away worthy.’

‘You sound surprised?’

‘No offence Nora, but that’s not usually how it works. Did the yews give you anything?’

Nora sat like Mona Lisa for a while and said, ‘That would be telling.’

Nora rode back to Castle Duir like the wind and I followed like a leaf caught in her vortex. We got home just after midnight. I was shattered but Nora was exhilarated. She offered to stable and brush Acorn for me and I didn’t say no.

The next day Dad ruined a good lie-in.

‘I always thought being a prince meant that I could sleep late and do anything I wanted.’

‘That’s what “commoners” think when they dream about being royal,’ Dad said. ‘You know what royal people dream about?’

I didn’t answer – it was too early for riddles.

‘They dream about being commoners.’

We ate in silence. Well, Dad was silent; I produced a continuous low growl hoping that he would leave and let me go back to bed. He just sat there smiling like he had a surprise for me. Finally I cracked.

‘What?’

‘I don’t think I’d have a breakfast that big if I were you.’

There are few things that can make me stop chewing but a sentence like that from my father is one of them. ‘Why?’

‘It’s just that I’ve heard rumours that the first day at The Hive can be pretty rough.’

‘The Hive?’

‘Yes, you’ll be spending the next couple of days with Master Eirnin.’

I tried to remember where I had seen the name Eirnin and then picked up the jar of honey on the table and read the name. ‘You’re sending me to the royal beekeeper?’

‘You know how the US Secret Service not only guards the president but they also are in charge of catching money forgers?’

‘No.’

‘Well,’ Dad went on, ‘they are. Many people around here have more than one job.’

‘Oh, can I be Court Jester?’

‘You don’t need any help from me to be a fool, son. As I was saying … Master Eirnin is not only the royal beekeeper, he is also in charge of preparing candidates for The Choosing.’

‘Dad, there’s a war coming. There are a million things that I should be doing.’

‘Like sleeping late?’

‘That is such a Dad thing to say.’

‘I agree there are a million things you should be doing but the first thing on that list is The Choosing. You know why it’s important. This is not open for discussion.’

‘How old do I have to be before I am no longer bossed around by my dad?’

‘You are old enough now that you no longer have to do what a father tells you to do.’

He stood and walked towards the door but before he went through he stopped and said, ‘But you will never be too old to do the bidding of your King. Be in the stable in ten … and I wouldn’t wear your good Nikes if I were you.’

I didn’t like the smile on his face. It was the same look that he had when he invited Essa and Graysea on the Mount Cas trip. I didn’t have to worry about not wearing my Nikes, Jesse had mine. When this all calmed down and I went back to Ireland like I promised, I was going to get to some big city and swap a bar of gold for a couple of pairs of cool shoes.

Master Eirnin was waiting for me in the stables. He was an Imp, unsurprisingly. He didn’t look very tall but he was on horseback so it was hard to tell. His cloth robe was stained and bulged in the middle. He looked jolly. ‘You’re late,’ he said.

‘Funny, that’s what everyone says.’

This produced no response other than, ‘Come.’ He turned and walked his mount out of the stables. I hurried to find Acorn.

Master Eirnin came back and asked, ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m saddling my horse.’

‘Prince Conor, if I had wanted you to saddle your horse I would have said, “Saddle your horse.” Now come.’

‘On foot?’

He turned again. This time he took a coil of rope from his saddlebag. ‘Would you prefer I tie this around your neck like a dog?’

‘No sir.’

‘Come.’

So I jogged next to the Master Beekeeper. He was not jolly.

‘What did you have for breakfast?’

‘What?’

The Imp pulled his reins to the right and reared his horse. It stopped directly in my way and I hit the horse and almost fell over. ‘When I say come, I want you to come. When I ask you a question I expect an answer. Not another question. This is my final warning.’

He was wearing a floppy cap and I wondered if there was literally a bee in the beekeeper’s bonnet. He started again and said, ‘Come.’

I came.

‘What did you have for breakfast?’

‘I had tea, apple slices, eh … If I had known there was going to be a test …’

Snap; the crack of a whip made it to my ears a nanosecond before my mind registered the searing pain on my back.

‘Hey!’

‘Focus, prince. I asked about your breakfast. Not about what you think.’

‘That doesn’t mean …’ I looked up and he was raising the whip again so I said quickly, ‘OK, apple, tea, two eggs, oatmeal and bread.’

‘And what did you have the previous morning?’

‘Well, I really didn’t have a normal breakfast …’

Crack. This time I lost my footing and went down. The whip cracked on my upper arm and it stung like I had been stabbed. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

Master Eirnin walked his horse back and loomed over me. ‘You only have two days to prepare, young prince. There is very little time to teach you.’

‘Teach me what? That you’re a sadist? I got that.’

‘I am attempting to teach you to focus, Conor. If you fail to concentrate with me you will experience pain. If you lose your concentration in the Chamber of Runes – you will die.’

TWENTY-TWO

THE HIVE

Ijogged behind Master Eirnin as he asked me all manner of mundane questions. Many of which I had no answer for, like ‘Name the lineage of your mother’s line back five generations.’ I knew Mom and her father Liam but after that, nothing. That didn’t stop the lash. Eirnin was a whip now, ask questions later kind of Imp.

Eirnin lived in a large conical brick house called The Hive. It did indeed contain a hive. Bumblebees half the size of my fist flew in and out of the many vents in the walls. These bees knew who was boss. They swerved for Master Eirnin but they acted like I wasn’t even there. During my next two days at The Hive, I spent most of my time ducking insects big enough to carry off puppies. It was a shock when one bounced off your face as you turned but it was worse if one stung you. Luckily it only happened twice: once when I stepped on one in my bare feet and another time when I accidentally caught one under my armpit. Both times I felt like Julius Caesar just after he turned his back on Brutus. The one under my armpit actually hurt the most but the one on my foot made walking a chore. All this, though, was ahead of me as the beekeeper led me into the training room.

The air was stiflingly thick with the overpowering smell of honey. In the middle of the room was what looked like a long narrow Olympic-sized swimming pool. Instead of water, the pool seemed to be filled with a white mould. Eirnin picked up a rake and skimmed the mould from the top of the pool. Then with his bare hand he scraped the mould off the rake into a bucket and walked outside. By now I knew that if I didn’t follow him, it hurt. Outside he dumped the mould on top of a compost heap.

‘Oh, I get it,’ I said back inside as he handed me the rake. ‘This is one of those kung fu master things where after I do your cleaning, I learn something. This is like a metaphor – as I clean your mould, you mould my mind?’

Eirnin was immune to my charms. As he walked away he shook his head and said, ‘If you were not Oisin’s son I would be tempted to release you now and let you die.’

Underneath the mould was honey. I spent the entire morning skimming the mould off and piling it in the garden. It wasn’t as disgusting as it sounds. The mould was pretty innocuous and the fresh air was a relief after spending time in the thick air of the training room. By lunch I was staring at a brick trench filled with golden honey. Eirnin returned and inspected my work. He inspected every edge to make sure no mould remained and found none.

‘Come,’ he said.

I was tempted to say, ‘Aren’t you going to give me a gold star?’ but then remembered the lash and stepped lively into his wake.

On the other side of The Hive the master had set out a table with bread, dried fruit and meats and, of course, honey.

‘Was yesterday’s lunch as lavish as this?’ he asked.

‘Yesterday, I had a salad with …’

‘Relax, young prince,’ he said with a wave of his hand, ‘that was not a test. I am only making conversation. Rest your mind for a bit, Conor; you will need all of your mental strength for this afternoon.’

Eirnin piled some special dark honey from a jar onto a slab of bread. After breathing honey fumes all morning I really was in no mood to eat the stuff but the Marquis de Beekeeper was a hard man to deny. He said it would make my brain work better and, since around here slow brains mean skin welts, I ate.

After lunch I followed the master back into the training room.

‘Remove your clothing.’

‘You speak English?’

Eirnin removed his whip from his belt and I started, reluctantly and nervously, to take off my clothes. When I got down to my underwear he said, ‘That will be enough. I will answer your last query, Conor, for I know this must be confusing but after that you do my bidding or feel the lash.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘In order to implement your training I have met many times with your father about your upbringing. I have also endured your Aunt Nieve’s hot gold ear and tongue treatment so I may speak to you in the language of your schooling.’

‘Gosh. Well, that explains why you’re so cranky.’ I instantly regretted saying that and expected my all too exposed flesh to get a whuppin’ but he ignored me – with maybe just the tiniest of smiles. There is no long-term defence against my charm.

Eirnin pointed to the pool of honey. ‘Get in.’

‘In there?’

This time the whip cracked and I jumped in before it hit me. Jumping into a pool of honey is not like jumping into a pool of water. I hit the surface expecting to go through but it was almost as bone-jarring as if I had hit concrete. The entire surface wobbled as I bounced back up. Then I started to sink but at an angle. That meant my feet wouldn’t be under me when my head went below water … I mean honey. I tried to move my legs but – I was in honey. I looked to Master Eirnin – he was nowhere to be seen. My panic increased proportionately with every inch I sank. I was seconds away from screaming when I thought maybe this too is a test. Surely he won’t let me drown? I mastered my panic as the honey reached level with my chin. My face fully submerged and I was thinking maybe I could panic now when I felt rope hit my hands. Eirnin hoisted me out and I hung there until my feet were directly below me.

‘Why did you not call for me?’

‘I thought it was a test.’

‘Next time you are about to drown, feel free to call out.’

He slowly lowered me so I could stand, shoulder-deep in the honey.

‘Now what?’

‘Now you walk.’

And I did. For the rest of the day I did walking laps in a swimming pool filled with honey. What was it like? It was like walking in a pool of honey. It was hot, sticky and unbelievably slow going. As it got close to nightfall, the beekeeper had me walking sideways and then backwards. After rinsing in a nearby ice-cold spring, I was sent off to bed. I went back to my room and asked Aein to bring me some supper but I didn’t eat it. My head hit the pillow and I went out like a used match.

The last place I wanted to go the next day was back to The Hive but a prince has to do what a king tells him to. Eirnin didn’t even speak to me when I arrived. He just pointed to the pool and I slowly dropped into the honey so as to not lose my footing. This day began with mundane questions. He asked me to name all of my school teachers. Hesitation was met with the crack of a lash. Most of these didn’t actually make contact but the memory of the pain from the ones that did made the sound as effective as the real thing. Let’s just say, I hope nobody actually eats that honey. Dad showed up late in the morning wearing a smirk and drilled me on German, French and Greek verb conjugation. It was just like when I was a kid and I could see how much he was enjoying my torment.

Essa’s dad showed up with lunch.

‘I imagine,’ Gerard said, ‘you would like something that did not have honey on it.’

‘Amen to that, Mr Winemaker. What brings you to Duir?’

‘Oh I don’t know, Conor, maybe the impending war.’

‘Oh yeah. You know, I had almost forgotten about that with all of this hiking in honey stuff.’

‘Then you are doing it right. I have been through Master Eirnin’s tutelage. I know it feels pointless at the moment but what you are learning is to blend mind and body into one. You will be thankful when you step into the First Muirbhrúcht.’

‘That’s what I thought I would be doing here. I thought Eirnin would be telling what it would be like to walk The Choosing but he hasn’t said a thing. I saw Dad and Mom do it and it looked awfully difficult. So what’s it like?’

Gerard leaned back in his chair and laughed. ‘Conor, my Choosing was long, long ago. You want to know what it was like? I’ll tell you. It is like … walking in honey.’

‘Really?’

‘No, not really, but that is as close as you are going to get without actually entering the Hall of Choosing. Everyone says the First Muirbhrúcht is the hardest and in a way it is. You must be prepared for the shock of it. Like walking in honey, it will be like hitting a brick wall at first. You must slide into it. But unlike the pool here you will simultaneously be buffeted from all sides. Keeping your balance will require perfect concentration but your concentration will be tested by memories. Not actual memories – they will come during the Second Muirbhrúcht – but emotional memories. It is very disconcerting to have emotions without the underpinning memories. Many find it too much to bear. Fortunately you can quit after the First Muirbhrúcht and live.’

‘But not after that?’

‘That is correct. Once you enter the second archway only success allows you to survive.’

‘But the Second Muirbhrúcht is easier?’

‘That is what others say but I found it harder. Just remember: whatever the Chamber throws at you, you must keep walking, you must keep your balance and you must hold on to your rune.’

‘What about the Third Muirbhrúcht?’

‘Ah well,’ the big man said. ‘The third one is different for everyone. It is not difficult. In fact, it is the opposite, it is quite a relief. You see, if you make it that far – you receive a gift.’

‘A gift?

‘Yes. Some receive an insight into their lives. A blacksmith may realise how better to forge steel, a dancer will leave The Choosing knowing a new step. Others get a glimpse of their future.’

‘What did you get?’

‘Oh my, I’ve never told anyone that.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘No. I think I’d like to tell you, Conor.’

And he did. I felt honoured. When he was through I asked, ‘You didn’t bring any beer with you, by any chance?’

‘There is far too much work ahead of you for beer drinking.’ He stood to leave and then opened his arms to administer his famous rib-crushing hug. I stood and accepted it. As he lifted me off the ground he said, ‘I’ll have a cold one waiting for you in your chamber tonight when this is done.’

‘Thanks, Gerard.’

As he walked away he stopped and said, ‘Essa is very mad at you.’

‘What did she say?’

‘Nothing. That’s how I know. I would look out if I were you.’

The rest of the day was more of the same with Master Eirnin making me walk while quizzing me and trying to make my concentration slip. Focusing had always been a problem for me at school. Maybe they should fill swimming pools with honey and give the teachers whips. OK, that’s a bad idea but at this time in my life – with that life being on the line – the technique worked. I really did think I was ready.

Eirnin didn’t, but he had no choice but to graduate me. ‘Your father has told me that the Pooka hawk scouts have spotted Banshee troops marching towards Duir. You are needed at the castle.’

I got out of the pool and rinsed off. When I was clean and dressed I reported one last time to the Master Beekeeper.

‘I listened to what Gerard told you at lunch, young prince. I have little to add. Your task is to keep focused and your goal is to reach past the Third Muirbhrúcht with your rune still in your fist. That may sound simple but the Chamber makes even that simple task very difficult. I hope to see you again, Prince of Hazel and Oak.’

‘Won’t you be at my Choosing?’

‘No, I have seen too many of my pupils fail. I can no longer watch Choosings.’

With that cheery statement ringing in my ears I limped back to the castle. My first stop was to see Graysea in the hope that she had enough time to unswell the bee stings on my foot and armpit. If I hadn’t just walked in there myself, I would have sworn I was in a different place than Castle Duir. The Room of Healing was now a proper blinding white infirmary with fully stacked shelves of bandages, sheets and medicine bottles. Cots were lined up in rows like airplanes on an aircraft carrier. Graysea was taking an inventory of a pile of things on the far wall but dropped everything when she saw me limping.

‘Are you injured?’

‘No … well … yes. It’s a bee sting.’ I sat on a cot, took off my Brownie slipper and showed her my double-sized foot.

‘That is a bee sting?’

‘They were big bees. I also got stung under my arm.’

Graysea sat down behind me and pulled my shirt over my head. ‘You smell like honey.’ She was reaching around to feel where the sting was when, of course, Essa walked in. Graysea didn’t see her and started her healing fish transformation. I was hit with the pain of the stings for a second and then experienced that wonderful relief that only mermaid healing can provide. I had to close my eyes. When I opened them – Essa was gone.

‘Damn.’

‘Does something else hurt?’

‘Oh, no, Graysea, thank you, I feel much better now.’

She kissed me on the cheek. ‘I have so much to do. I imagine you do too.’

‘Yes. Sleep.’

She slapped me on the arm. ‘You’re so silly.’

This time I managed to eat my supper before passing out.

I awoke to find Dad standing over me with a steaming cup of tea. I sat up in bed and groaned. Every muscle in my body was sore.

‘I’m going to go back to the Real World,’ I said, ‘and open a gym with a honey pool. It’s a hell of an all-body work-out.’

‘That’s why I brought you willow tea. Normally I would have given you a couple of days to recover but we don’t have that kind of time.’

‘How far away is Cialtie’s army?’

‘They’re not here yet but they are coming. It’s nothing for you to worry about today. Today is the day of your Choosing.’

‘Dad, I know you’re gung ho about me doing this but really with Cialtie on the march and me feeling like five miles of bad road, can’t my Choosing wait?’

‘No. Cialtie on the march is the reason why we can’t wait. If something happens to me, you have to be holding a Duir Rune or my brother has a “legitimate” claim to the Oak Throne.’

‘That’s not the way Ona’s prediction goes …’

Dad put up his hand to stop me. ‘You of all people should know that Ona’s predictions are a curse and certainly are nothing to act upon. I loved that old woman but I often wish she had never been born. Her damn predictions are almost as much to blame for my brother as he is. We fight Cialtie not because of anything Ona has said. We stop him because he must be stopped. Get dressed, Prince of Hazel and Oak.’

I walked down the long staircase by myself. When I arrived at the Chamber of Runes, I had to momentarily shield my eyes from the supernova-like glow coming from the thousands of Leprechaun candles that covered almost every surface. When my pupils had finally contracted to a suitable diameter, I saw that almost everybody was there.

Mom and Dad were flanked by Nieve, Fand, Dahy, Gerard. Brendan and Araf were standing holding up a ceremonial robe. I waved hi to everybody and then turned my back to let my mates help me don what I hoped was not going to be my funeral shroud.

‘If you don’t make it,’ Brendan said in my ear, ‘can I have your room?’

‘Araf,’ I said, ‘shouldn’t you be doing a Choosing too?’

‘I thought I would see if you survive before I tried it,’ the Imp replied.

These guys were my mates. Making jokes was exactly what I needed.

As I walked to Mom I stopped and quietly asked Gerard, ‘Essa?’

He just shook his head.

Well, that cinched it. I had suspected that I had blown it with the princess and now that she hadn’t shown up here, I was sure of it.

Mom placed a blank wooden rune in my hand and then tilted my head down with both of her hands and kissed me on the forehead. She didn’t say anything, and that scared me too.

Dad lifted the rune in my right hand and placed a nugget of gold underneath it. He placed his hands on my shoulders. ‘For once in your life – concentrate.’

I turned and faced the first archway. It looked perfectly clear just like any other hallway I had ever walked down. I turned. ‘Are you sure this thing’s plugged in?’

I got nothing – not even a snicker. So what else is new? I stepped into the First Muirbhrúcht.

TWENTY-THREE

THE CHOOSING

There is an old expression in The Land: ‘The First Muirbhrúcht is the hardest.’ That’s what people say in Tir na Nog when they start some mundane task like baking a cake or cleaning out a moat. It’s like when Real Worlders say: ‘Every journey begins with a first step.’ Well, let me tell ya: the First Muirbhrúcht is not like baking a cake.

I had once seen Dad thoughtlessly run at a Muirbhrúcht and bounce back like a pinball off a bumper so I entered it slowly expecting the barrier to be a bit like jumping into Master Eirnin’s honey pool. What I wasn’t prepared for was the turbulence. I had seen people walk in the Chamber of Runes and you don’t walk that slowly for nothing, but I expected the resistance to come from the front. In reality it came from all directions. Like the honey pool, the surrounding air – or whatever was in it – was hard to push against but forces pushed different parts of you in different directions – and they were fierce. I thought I was going to get my ears ripped off. Saying that, losing my ears wouldn’t have been that bad a thing ’cause it sounded like my head was in a washing machine. That must be where they got the name from. Muirbhrúcht means tidal wave and it sounded like my head was under one.

I wasn’t three steps in when I started laughing. At first I thought it was just the usual little nervous giggling bout I get when I’m in mortal danger or in an uncomfortable situation, like when Fergal and I thought we were going to be killed by Big Hair and his Banshee tribe – but when I tried to stop, I found that I couldn’t and I didn’t know why. No matter what horrible things I imagined: squashed puppies with their eyes bulging out, Essa snogging The Turlow, tofu burgers, I still couldn’t stop laughing. The strange thing was, I wasn’t laughing at anything. I just had an overwhelming need to laugh but nothing in my head said anything funny. I threw my head back and howled with laughter, for a nanosecond I stopped my forward momentum. Immediately the ear-ripping turbulence intensified by a factor of 100. Let me tell you, even though I was laughing there was nothing funny about that. I instinctively knew that the increased pressure was because I had stopped moving and pushed into the non-gooey ectoplasm that passed for air in there. I continued to move. The turbulence subsided and so did my giggles.

When the sorrow hit me I remembered what I had been told. The First Muirbhrúcht bombards the Chooser with emotions. Getting past these emotional attacks was not easy. In life when emotions hit it is almost always the result of a thought but here in the First Muirbhrúcht the emotions were pure feeling. No manner of cheery thought could dispel the soul-crushing sorrow. I am tempted to call it grief but it wasn’t that. Grief is the cause of sorrow – this feeling had no cause. There was no poisonous thought I could divert or mask with levity. I simply wanted to die – to sit and stop everything because what was wrong with my life at that moment went beyond my mind. My entire being was simply agony and nothing anywhere, in any world, could fix it. Through all of this I kept my feet moving and my fingers wrapped around my rune. I don’t know how. I’m sure I couldn’t have withstood one second longer. Fortunately sorrow was replaced by rage and I welcomed it. Even though I could feel the veins in my temples popping and my jaw clamping down until I thought my face would snap – I welcomed the rage. I wanted to kill someone and that was a lot better than wanting to die. I toyed with putting a thought with the emotion and it wasn’t hard to imagine my Uncle Cialtie. I thought of what he did to Fergal. How he killed his mother and how he lied to his own son and then shamed him before ultimately killing him. And then like a snowball tumbling down a hill gaining size as it went, I added Fergal’s death to all of the other deaths he was responsible for: Frank, Spideog, everyone who died in the attack on the Hall of Knowledge, all who died in the Battle of the Twins of Macha, the genocide of the village of More, the destruction of the Hazellands. By the time my mind had conjured up all of those atrocities, I wasn’t sure if the rage I felt came from The Choosing or from my own mind.

The last emotion was contentment. It was a little gift that the First Muirbhrúcht gave me right at the end. In some respects this was the most dangerous emotion of all. After all that went before, I felt like sitting down and just enjoying the feeling. I think I would have, but the habit of putting one foot in front of the other that had been whipped into me by Master Eirnin came in handy.

Then I popped out of the First Muirbhrúcht.

The silence was almost the best part. I wanted to turn around and shout ‘I did it!’, but I had been instructed not to turn except on the way out or if I wanted to give up. Apparently you can turn around after the First Muirbhrúcht and live – but Oisin didn’t raise no quitter. I wanted to rest a while but I had been warned not to do that also. Apparently taking too long of a break saps your energy. I didn’t have all that much zip to begin with, so I gritted my teeth and entered the Second Muirbhrúcht.

If the First Muirbhrúcht is the hardest then the second one is the prettiest. I was faintly aware of lights and colours sparkling in the air while in the First Muirbhrúcht – when I entered the second one, colour was all I saw. What, minutes before, had been crystal clear air was now alive with pulsating light. It was like the luminescent algae in the ocean that the Mertain call ‘The Stream’, except here it wasn’t one colour, it was thousands.

The electric rainbow air made me hesitate but what made me stop in my tracks was the huge vision of my mother’s face that loomed in front of me. Master Eirnin’s training kicked in. I could almost feel the sting of his whip on my back and I automatically willed my feet to keep moving. Even though I was looking straight ahead, in the vision, I was looking up at my mother’s face. This was the kind of paradox that usually happens in dreams but this was no dream. This was a memory, my memory. I not only saw the huge face looking down on me but I felt the loving arms that cradled the tiny me. I grew up with no memory of my mother but obviously they were in there. You might imagine that this would be emotionally overpowering but I reacted to this memory with the emotions of an infant. Babies are binary. They are either happy or sad, wet or dry, hungry or satiated. I was happy and it was such a simple happiness that I slowed. Immediately the pressure of the Muirbhrúcht forced the training back into my head and I continued forward.

The next memory was the other side of that coin – it was simple unhappiness. I was crying because she was crying. My mother was crying. I felt myself being taken from her arms. I tried to reach for her but I was so young my arms would not obey. When she was out of view I felt and tasted a salty tear hitting my face; when I looked up, Dad’s face was as miserable as my mother’s had been.

More childhood memories floated into view. Just like no one else can hear a tree talk, even though it’s perfectly loud in your head, I’m sure no one else could see these visions but to me they played in the air like a Shadowcasting. These were memories that I had almost forgotten and they were captivating. The desire to just sit on the floor and watch, cross-legged, was overwhelming and if not for Master Eirnin I would have done just that and died. I took back everything I ever said about the old beekeeper and his lash.

I remembered living in Ireland and then moving to England. I replayed a childhood event that always puzzled me. I saw myself maybe seven years old and coming home from school and telling Dad that a rider on a black horse had spoken to me. We were packed and in a hotel before midnight. Two days later we were on a boat to America.

I got to watch puberty and adolescence again which made me want to close my eyes and press fast-forward – and I found that I kind of could. I slowed things down when I came to Sally. Sally hadn’t fared very well in my recent memories and it was nice to relive how wonderful we had been in the beginning. I had had girlfriends before her, but she was a real relationship. She taught me … no that’s wrong … together we learned how to be close and how to trust. I was mad at her for her choices at the end but now I saw she didn’t have the full picture – I never gave her a chance.

Nieve’s spear flew at me again and I felt the tingling glow of my mother’s protective force-field. And then I sped through the memories of my life since I discovered I was the Prince of Hazel and Oak: escaping from Cialtie, meeting my mother, meeting Fergal. I willed that scene to slow down and it did. My smile matched the ear-to-ear smile my cousin wore and I realised that the debilitating sorrow that I felt in the First Muirbhrúcht was the missing of Fergal. I re-saw that first sight I had of Essa with the light shining up on her face from that glowing ball. I swallowed hard as I walked, just as I had at her father’s party.

I relived joining up with the Army of the Red Hand and how with Dad we stopped my uncle from destroying The Land. I remembered how proud I was of Dad and how I regained the feeling I had when I was a little kid – that he could do anything.

I got to travel back to the Hazellands with my mother again. How wonderful it was to get to actually know a mother that I had only ever fantasised about. That warm motherly love that I imagined and missed didn’t even come close to the real thing.

Like an anchor against the madness, Araf was a solid presence all through the visions.

I had to laugh when I remembered how angry Brendan was when the cop was accidentally dragged to The Land. He came around fast. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t been there to help me save my father.

I saw the bravery of Tuan, the treachery of The Turlow, the magnificence and terror of Red’s transformation into a dragon. And then came Graysea. She really is the sweetest creature in any land. OK, she’s a bit ditzy, but she is beautiful and talented and funny and would literally give anything to make me happy. But I realised that even though I am oh so fond of her, when I saw her she didn’t make my heart skip like Essa. Maybe that was the gift of The Choosing. I knew now that I had to make Essa know that she is the only one for me.

After saving Dad with his dragon blood rebirth, all the most recent events sailed past. As I saw the scene of me entering the Chamber of Runes, I popped out. I took one deep breath and entered the Third Muirbhrúcht.

As Gerard warned me – this was a piece of cake. The resistance was still in the air but the pressure was gone. This was more like the honey pool than the previous two and I found myself sighing at the relief of it. A shower of sparks like from a grinding wheel issued from my closed fist but it didn’t hurt and I hardly noticed it. I thought about what Gerard said had happened to him when he was here. Gerard had been hoping for some tip on how to make super wine but instead he received a vision of a young girl. He spent years looking for her but never found her until he had a child of his own. His gift from The Choosing was the promise of Essa.

I wouldn’t mind a promise of Essa myself. I then had a panicky thought about seeing what our child would look like and then had another panic attack about receiving any vision of the future. Visions of the future were how The Land had gotten into this mess. Ona’s predictions had ruined countless lives. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know where the river of my life was to flow.

My gift was not a glimpse into my future. At least I think it wasn’t. In front of me I saw the Druids I had met in Connemara, Ireland – the group calling themselves The Grove. They stood there waiting. The vision was as clear as it was completely unfathomable. I tried to ask them what they wanted but nothing would come out of my mouth. Then, at the last second, Ruby came up beside me and they all freaked.

The pressure of the air evaporated and I stumbled forward into the antechamber at the back of the Chamber of Runes. I had done it, I had walked my Choosing. In front of me was the oaken table – I opened my hand and let my new rune fall to the tabletop.

My rune didn’t stay on the table for long. Before I even got a chance to look at it, an explosion shook the Chamber. I was thrown into the table, knocking it over as plaster and centuries of dust fell from the ceiling. I turned. This was supposed to be a proud moment, like a graduation. I had imagined my family and friends smiling and applauding – instead I saw them rushing out of the room. As she disappeared around the corner and up the staircase I saw that one of them was Essa – she had come. Another explosion rocked the room, the battle had begun.

I ran to join my comrades forgetting that Muirbhrúchts must be entered slowly and just like my father before me, I hit the backside of the barrier and bounced off it like it was a vertical trampoline. My body and head were thrown to the back wall and for a moment I saw stars. Then I pulled my wits about me, walked up to the archway, took a deep breath and began to slowly step in. I hesitated just in time to remember the rune. I picked it up, put it in my pocket and slid slowly past the barrier. Walking back through the Muirbhrúcht has all of the resistance without the mind games. It was still one of the most physically exhausting things I have ever done but at least my brains weren’t being haunted by ghosts of Christmases past.

I dropped into a Fili mind chant. It was a version of the same chant Dad had used on the day he had lost his hand. His chant was ‘Rowing beats Cialtie.’ Mine was, ‘Climbing stops Cialtie.’

‘Climbing stops Cialtie.’ I worried about my friends but then pushed that thought from my mind and chanted. ‘Climbing stops Cialtie.’ I wondered what kind of weapon could have caused such a violent tremor this deep inside the castle … ‘Climbing stops Cialtie.’ I should have spent this time trying to figure out what my Choosing gift meant. What did the grove of Irish Druids have to do with me? But instead I chanted, ‘Climbing stops Cialtie.’ I was so lost in my mantra that I didn’t even know I had made it through the Muirbhrúchts until I fell out into the Chamber on my hands and knees.

The Chamber was eerily silent. All around Leprechaun candles lay on their sides, burning where they had fallen. Several were scorching the base of the oak table and I crawled over and blew them out. It would be ironic to win a battle and lose the castle to a candle fire. I was completely drained. There was nothing I would have liked better than to have a beer and a nap but the time for leisure was not now and if my uncle got his way it would not be ever. I stood, took a deep breath and began the long sprint up the staircase to defend Duir.

TWENTY-FOUR

WAR

The staircase back up from the Chamber of Runes has got to be the longest flight of stairs in any world. I had read reports of others, after walking The Choosing, being carried up those stairs on a stretcher. I initially tried to take them two at a time but after five minutes I was panting like a Himalayan mountain climber without oxygen.

Another explosion rocked the castle. I slipped and then bumped down half a dozen steps on my backside. Burning candles dropped on me from above, attempting to make me look like an illustration from a Jack Be Nimble rhyming book. I breathed a sigh of relief while I extinguished myself. If I had taken a full-blown tumble down these stairs … well, let’s just say when you look up broken neck in a Tir na Nogian dictionary you see a picture of a guy lying at the bottom of these stairs.

Regardless of how tired I was, I got up and kept climbing. I really needed to get out of here before this castle shook again. Barring falling all the way down and breaking every bone in my body, I was worried that if this place got hit again there might be a cave-in and I would have to change my name to Rubble. It was now pitch dark in many places and there was no handrail. I really must institute a Castle Duir Department of Health and Safety.

My legs shook every time I put weight on them. Every step became a little mountain. Without realising it I was moving on all fours with my hands in front of me like a dog. Climbing stops Cialtie … Climbing stops Cialtie … The chant popped into my head instinctively.

It was so dark at the top of the stairs I banged my head into the door. I almost swooned when I stood but managed to fall forward, blinking into the light of the east wing corridor. I was expecting the guard to help me up but even he wasn’t there. All hell really must be breaking loose if the Chamber guard had to leave his post.

I ran into the courtyard. All the activity was up on the battlements. I looked at the long flight of stairs up and knew that my legs wouldn’t make it. I wished I could fly and then remembered that I almost could. I wrapped my fingers around my staff, slipped my other hand into the new leather strap and then willed my staff to lighten. I shot straight up into the air and found myself directly in the path of a huge boulder that had been propelled by a catapult. I panicked and commanded my staff to become heavy. It became so heavy so quickly that my hands went straight down, almost pulling my arms out of their sockets. Screaming, I commanded my staff to lighten again and this time I really did dislocate my shoulder. The boulder at least missed me and sailed over my head into the section of the castle that I had just come from.

A guard spotted me writhing on the grass in pain. I recognised him. He was one of the guards that I had assigned to guard Brendan when he first came to The Land.

‘Frick?’ I asked.

‘Frack,’ he replied with a smile.

My arm was completely unusable. I told him that I had dislocated my shoulder and without asking, he picked me up and then slammed my upper arm into a wall. I blacked out. When I came to, the arm hurt like hell but it at least worked again.

‘What is the situation?’ I grunted.

‘The Banshees have a catapult with an amazing range. They are alternately throwing boulders and some sort of explosive. Brendan has your mother and aunt conjuring up magic arrows. I cannot tarry any longer; I have been ordered to get gold from the infirmary.’

‘I’ll help.’

Frack ran ahead and I tried to keep up. He made it to the infirmary long before I did. Initially it looked like mayhem in there but I soon saw that my mermaid was coping with the injuries admirably. A guard told me that Graysea had just saved his best friend’s life when he was sure he was a goner. It seemed that Graysea had cleared all of her critical patients from triage and was now working on the less injured. Frack was having trouble getting her attention; she kept telling him she was too busy to speak to anyone. I jumped in and pulled her away from an injured woman before she could fish up.

‘Graysea, we need the gold my mother has stored here.’

She had that glow of a woman on a mission but I could also see the fatigue in her eyes.

‘I don’t have time …’

I didn’t let go of her as she tried to go back to the injured woman. ‘Listen. I need that gold. Brendan may have a way to stop other people from being injured by the catapult.’

That got her attention and she led me over to her store room and pointed to four small crates. I tried to lift one but my shoulder rebelled and I dropped the box screaming.

‘Oh my, what has happened to you?’

‘I dislocated it,’ I said holding my shoulder.

Graysea slumped down next to me and placed her hand on my shoulder. I saw those gills slit open on her neck as I felt her fin press against my legs. I noticed the wince of pain on her face as my pain vanished. When she un-fished again she sighed, and I saw on her face the effort her healing was costing her.

‘Thanks,’ I said, and meant it. ‘But you have to slow down, Graysea. This battle has only just begun. You can’t heal everybody. You have to let the other healers do normal first aid. If you go all fishy on every injured person that comes in here – you won’t make it.’

‘But it’s so hard to watch people suffer,’ she said.

‘I know but most will get better. You have to save yourself for the real life-threatening stuff. You’re already exhausted.’ I had a look around. Things here seem to be under control. ‘Let the Imp-healers take over for a while – you should have a swim and recharge.’

An Imp came over to help us up. She said, ‘Listen to him; we’ll be fine for a while.’

Graysea reluctantly agreed and I led her over to her little swimming pool.

‘I gotta go, thanks for the shoulder fix.’ I kissed her and she flipped over the side of her pool. I watched as her face went under the water then a fin popped up like a dolphin.

I picked up two of the crates and tried to follow Frack but two crates of gold were one too many for me. A Leprechaun repair team ran past and I commandeered one of them to carry a crate. When their commander saw me struggling he decided that one crate was one too many for me and gave me another of his men. The two of them jogged behind me like they were carrying feather pillows.

I reached Brendan and his archery team just as the Banshees had launched another projectile.

‘It’s one of the bombs,’ Brendan shouted.

The archers lifted their bows. The arrows were gold-tipped. Over in a corner I saw Mom and Nieve incanting over more arrowheads. Next to them were Leprechauns with a melting pot atop a blazing fire. The pot was streaked with overflowing molten gold.

It was way too frantic to ask what was going on so I just stood back and watched. The bomb that was shot from the catapult was as big as the boulder that had almost creamed me but it was rounder – more obviously manmade. Whoever did the aiming was having a good day ’cause it was coming right for us.

‘Wait … wait,’ Brendan was shouting. ‘Wait for it to break its arc … Now!’

Brendan’s archers were well trained. All but one arrow hit the bomb. I was expecting the arrows to make the thing blow up but when they hit they just bounced off. I turned to run but no one followed me; instead everyone just stared. That’s when I noticed that the bomb wasn’t falling. The arrows had hit just as it should have started on the downward trajectory of its arc, but instead the ball kept climbing.

I looked over to Brendan and said, ‘What?’

He was smiling. ‘The arrows make anything they hit lighter. It’s one of your mom’s spells. She said she got the idea from your yew staff.’

The bomb sailed well over the castle.

‘So it’s really my idea.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Brendan said. ‘Deirdre and Nieve have arrows that can make stuff heavier too. If we alternate, then whoever is aiming that thing won’t know what to do.’

‘You learn this at cop school?’

‘Nope, I’m making it up as I go along. I know it’s hard to believe but in the police academy they didn’t teach how to defend a castle from a siege.’

‘Doesn’t sound like a very good academy.’

‘At the moment, Mr O’Neil, I would have to agree.’

A call went up and we all turned. The Banshees’ catapult had let loose another one. This time it was a really big rock. Brendan ordered the heavy arrows and they fired as soon as the boulder was in range. The rock took a nosedive like a major league pitcher’s slide and half buried itself in the muddy earth just past the treeline.

‘You survived The Choosing, I see,’ a familiar voice behind me said.

I turned to see Essa all decked out in her battle leathers. I felt guilty thinking how fantastic she looked but then realised that I think she looks great in everything she wears. ‘You’re speaking to me?’

‘We’re at war, Conor. There are thousands of people out there who are trying to kill you. You don’t need to add me onto that list too.’

‘Who says no good comes from war?’

‘I’ll get back to hating you when this is over,’ she said.

‘Right. What have you been doing?’

‘I just came from a war council with Dahy and your father.’

‘What’s our next move?’

‘Nothing really. Fortifications are good but we can’t really plan anything until Cialtie shows his hand.’

‘Any guesses?’

‘Lots,’ Essa said. ‘Mostly it comes down to Maeve’s Shadowmagic. Your mom and Fand are working on that.’

So we just wait and play Scrabble until something happens?’

‘Scrabble?’

‘Oh, it’s a game with wooden tiles with letters on them.’

‘You play games with runes?’

‘No … well, I guess …’ I was saved a long explanation by the cry of a Pooka who was stationed on the wall to my left. He pointed to a dive-bombing hawk that was rocketing out of the sky. The bird extended its wings at the last second and landed on the Pooka’s arm. He then gently placed the bird on the ground where it transformed into a naked woman. Another Pooka threw a robe over her as she cocked her head quickly over her shoulder just like a bird. The bird/scout tried to speak but failed on her first attempt. Often Pookas, after a change, take a moment to get their heads back into non-animal mode. She dropped her head to compose herself; when she looked back up her jerky movements were gone.

‘They are coming,’ she said.

The Pooka/hawk informed us that a division of Banshee and Brownie foot soldiers were making their way through the oaks and seemed to be converging on the north face of the castle. Dahy sent troops to all of the other battlements and ordered scouts to check the other approaches to make sure that this was not some sort of diversion.

Dad stood next to me on the battlements as I waited for the first of our attackers to appear.

‘We’ll see now if your Irish stone minefield works.’

‘I guess.’

He placed his hand on my shoulder. ‘Gosh, I almost forgot. How was The Choosing? I’m so sorry we all had to leave you in there.’

‘That’s OK, Dad. War is pretty much as good an excuse as any.’

Dad didn’t laugh like I had hoped he would. ‘I guess,’ he said turning away, ‘but damn it, how much more of my life can my brother screw up? This has got to stop.’ He paused and I could tell he was thinking about what it was going to take to stop my uncle. Then he shook his head as if to drive away the mood. ‘So can you tell me what you saw in the Third Muirbhrúcht?’

‘Well …’

‘Hey,’ Dad said quickly, ‘you don’t have to tell me.’

‘No it’s not that. It’s just I don’t really know what it meant.’

‘Oh, that’s not unusual, son. Ona once said that the visions of the Third Muirbhrúcht are like when you are trying to remember someone’s name. You try and try but you can’t remember it – so you give up. Then it comes to you.’

‘I saw the Druids I had met in Ireland – the descendants of the banished Fili. They seemed to want something from me but I don’t know what.’

‘Well, maybe when this is all over we can go back together and find out. We’ll probably need a holiday.’

It was nice pretending for that second that we were a normal father and son planning a summer holiday and not two soldiers about to spin the coin on our futures with the fortunes of war.

‘I’d like that, Dad.’

A sentry shouted, ‘Invaders north!’

We ran to the parapet as a row of Brownies stepped out of the treeline and set up long-range crossbows in the dirt. Unlike handheld crossbows, these were the mortars of the arrow-shooting family. The strings had to be set while the archer was sitting, using his feet to steady the bow. Two hands were needed to pull back the bow strings, then they were aimed using a monopod. These guys were well trained and successfully got off almost a shot a minute. The arrows were big and had some sort of enchantment in them. As they approached their target they split into twenty or so smaller arrows, producing in the sky the same effect as an entire platoon of synchronised archers.

Still, we were behind a stone wall and it was just a matter of ducking to avoid getting struck. However, we soon found out that the shafts of the arrows were covered in poisonous thorns. Dahy quickly set up an arrow-sweeping team but it meant you had to watch your step. These things were everywhere.

Brendan set his best archers to the task of taking out the crossbows but they were pretty far away. Until we could come up with a plan it looked like we would have to live with incoming fire for a while.

Under the cover of the arrow artillery, about two hundred Banshees and Brownies advanced out of the forest. They walked behind siege ladders that had shields attached to them.

When Dahy saw the small size of the force he said, ‘Damn him.’ There was no disguising the revulsion on his face. ‘Cialtie is doing it again. How can he send so many to slaughter just to test our defences?’

As he had done on the attack of the Hall of Knowledge, Cialtie sent a small group on a suicide mission, just to see what kind of defences we had. I wanted to shout at them to go back but I knew it would do no good. I remembered what Cialtie did to the survivors of his last suicide wave. As they marched back to their own lines, Cialtie mowed them down like blades of grass.

Brendan’s elite archery team aimed arrows at the feet of the advancing soldiers. They were remarkably accurate. Don’t get me wrong, most of them missed, but they hit about one in ten. Not bad going considering the size of the targets. I didn’t feel bad for the ones that got hit – they were, in fact, the lucky ones. They wouldn’t have to walk into my minefield.

Often the shields would drop when someone went down and I saw with a heavy heart that most of the attackers were Brownies. I scoured the field to see if Jesse was in the group. What lies had Cialtie told the Brownies to make them do such a foolish thing? How stupid could King Bwika be if he thought that an alliance with my uncle would be good for his people?

As they came closer the ladder-bearers got smarter and hunkered down behind their shields. Brendan stopped firing and we just watched as they approached the line were I had buried the Connemara marble. Some of the advancing soldiers noticed the lack of arrow fire and boldly stuck their heads above their shields so as to see what was going on. They looked nervous. They knew something was going to happen. A good soldier always knows that whenever war gets easy – that’s the time to worry.

I was worried.

TWENTY-FIVE

DUMB IDEA

They were behind their shield/ladders so I didn’t see it happen. Half of the ladders just fell as if there had never been anyone carrying them. Almost all the rest of the shield/ladder teams had fatalities. The ones that survived were in shock after experiencing galloping old age.

A group of three newly made octogenarians dropped their shields and tried to hobble back to their own lines where they were reminded that retreat was not an option. Their own men filled them with arrows. The remaining men, some looking ancient, regrouped under a handful of shield/ladders. An archer shot one of them before Brendan could stop him. We did nothing as the old men found the base of the walls and set up their siege ladders. It was pathetic to watch the terrified and exhausted soldiers struggling up the ladders with swords drawn. No one lifted a bow or a blade to stop them.

A guy who looked like he was over a hundred crested the wall to my right, sword drawn. As I went to him he jabbed the blade at me, but I casually parried it to the right and grabbed his wrist with both of my hands. I shook the sword free of his grasp as he swung pathetic punches with his other hand. He was panting and out of breath as I pulled him from his ladder and onto the parapet.

‘It’s OK,’ I said to him, ‘we won’t hurt you.’

The fall to the ground had obviously pained him. I wondered if he had broken his hip or something. I felt awful, like I had started a fight in an old folks’ home. When he finally rolled onto his back he had tears in his eyes. ‘What happened to me?’ he said.

When Cialtie realised that instead of fighting the attackers we were actually saving them, he ordered a resumption of the crossbow fire. In the end we saved about half who tried to scale the walls. A couple who were young and unaffected by the marble spell put up a fight but most, like any old man after climbing a fifty-foot ladder, appreciated the help.

Araf and I locked up our prisoners of war. I wondered if Tuan had enough blood in him to help all of the new Grey Ones that we would have after this thing was over. No, not this thing – this war. We were at war. I was at war – again – and it made me sick to my stomach. I watched in horror as people marched and died, as comrades took arrows and attackers fell screaming. I had been here before. I had been in battle and I knew that this was just the beginning. That it would get worse and worse until it was just me and someone else, toe to toe, swords drawn. Me and a stranger with whom I had no quarrel would be locked into the dance called kill or be killed. But the part I dreaded most was what would happen to me. What I would become when it was just me or him. That was the time when the primordial part of my brain would flood with those Neanderthal endorphins that would fool me into thinking I was enjoying this. Like some stupid junkie who thinks heroin is his friend, I would revel in the event. I had experienced that battle lust before and it had scared me, revolted me, but at the same time I had never felt so alive. I was afraid to experience that again. Right there and then I swore I wouldn’t.

Dragon Tuan kept glancing over his shoulder and giving me that look.

‘Keep your eyes on the road … or the air,’ I shouted to him. ‘I know what I’m doing.’

The Pooka turned his huge reptilian head back towards the open skies but not before he gave a smoky snort that I interpreted as, ‘Do you?’

The brimstone smoke made me tear up. As I rubbed my eyes I wondered, Do I know what I’m doing? I hadn’t told anybody other than Tuan about this escapade. My dragon pal had wanted nothing to do with it until I blackmailed him. I wasn’t proud of myself but it did tickle me that probably the most powerful creature in all of The Land could be so easily manipulated by threatening to tell his mom he had an Imp girlfriend.

I definitely hadn’t told my mom where I was going. I didn’t even have to wonder what her response would be. Hey, I knew what everyone’s opinion of what I was about to do would be. They’d all say I was crazy and I’d be lying if I said a pretty big part of me didn’t agree with them.

I shivered in my dragon saddle. Tuan had warned me that I would need a coat but as usual I hadn’t listened. It was so warm at ground level I couldn’t imagine that we would be flying high enough so as to see my breath. What else was I unprepared for?

It was easy to imagine how badly Dad was going to flip out when he heard about this. Tuan wasn’t even supposed to be in dragon form let alone flying over enemy lines. I think maybe that was one of the reasons Tuan had agreed to help me – he was miffed that Dad had grounded him. Dad had said that they would be expecting us to use Dragon Tuan as a weapon and he was sure they had an anti-dragon defence waiting. Dad ordered Tuan to stay at ground level for his own safety but my Pooka buddy thought that maybe he should have had a say in this decision. Saying that, if Cialtie did have anti-dragon cannons, Tuan wanted to be out of range and that’s why we were flying so high.

We were almost to the drop zone. I looked over the side of my magical mount and saw the tiny campfires below just beginning to be lit. They were pinpricks of light and I wondered if this is what the paratroopers on D-day felt like. But then I thought, at least those guys jumped as a team – I am going in there all by myself with no real plan and no real parachute. I came close to not going through with it, but then in my mind’s eye I saw the bleeding and bloated corpses of my friends and family. Before I could chicken out I just pulled my feet out of the stirrups and slid off into the twilight sky.

I always thought that I would never have enough courage for skydiving, and now here I was jumping off a dragon without a parachute. I hoped my yew staff was up to the demands that I was about to put on it and, for that matter, I hoped I had enough command over the staff so as not to become a strain. I had tied some ropes around my waist and then attached them to the staff in case the G-forces were too much for my hands. After all, skydivers don’t hang by their hands from parachutes.

As The Land began to get closer below me I decided it was time to order my yew staff to slow my descent. I was sure I told it to slow down just the tiniest bit, but as usual the stick read that as slow down a lot and I was almost cut in half by the force on my waist. I now see why skydivers use harnesses around their backsides and not rope tied around their waists. I instantly had the wind knocked out of me and worried I had ruptured some vital internal organ. I lost grip on the staff and went back into free-fall. When I finally got my senses back I was a lot closer to the ground than I wanted to be. I once again asked for a tiny slowdown and got it. I inched up the magical anti-gravity and, bit by bit, I was just about under control when I hit the ground. I rolled like a good paratrooper and then tried to stand. My midsection felt like I had just gone twelve rounds with a welterweight boxing champion but worse than that, I was exactly opposite to where I wanted to be.

The Brownies had bivouacked on the edge of the yew forest. Luckily I had fallen inside of the guarded perimeter which meant the sentries were looking the wrong way when I descended from the sky. However, I was on the wrong side of the camp. Since I had been given freedom of the Yewlands, I hoped I would touch down close enough to the forest so I could scamper into the yews if there was trouble. Only an idiot would follow me into Ioho but considering where I was, there would be no briar patch for this Brer Rabbit to escape into. I had worn a Brownie-like cloak, so I pulled the hood over my head and started walking for the centre of camp. There were a lot of Brownies here. It made me wonder if anybody was left in the Alderlands but it gave me confidence. If it had just been a small troop someone might have wondered who I was, but since almost the entire Brownie nation was here I didn’t expect anyone to say, ‘I never saw you at the Brownie prom.’

Now that I was in the thick of this huge camp I started to wonder what was I thinking? My plan seemed like a good idea back at Castle Duir when I was all fired up, but here I started to realise how thin and downright stupid it was – not to mention dangerous. My idea was to find Jesse and then get him to let me in to see his father so I could talk some sense into him. Now I knew why I hadn’t told anybody about this plan. I knew they would try to talk me out of it or forbid it, and now that I was here I realised that they were right. I repeat – what was I thinking?

I reached into my robe and fumbled for my ropes to attach to my yew staff. Tuan said he would fly around as a bat or something looking for a signal and would pick me up in the sky. I felt bad about chickening out on my noble quest but I remembered my Shakespeare: ‘The better part of valour is discretion.’ Dad had once told me that the great thing about Shakespeare is you can always find a quote to help you justify anything. I remembered saying, ‘Don’t you mean Shookspeare?’ He looked at me confused. ‘You know, ’cause he’s dead.’

I let out a snorting laugh at the memory. Hey, if I don’t laugh at my jokes – who will? I heard a whispering voice ask, ‘Conor?’

Twilight was almost finished. Out of the darkness, Jesse walked up to me and pushed back my hood, then quickly pulled it back up again. Of all the things that could have given me away, it had to be my laugh.

‘What are you doing here?’ he hissed.

‘It was such a lovely night for a stroll I …’

He grabbed my arm and dragged me over to a more secluded spot. ‘If you are discovered here it will be your death – and now maybe mine too. You are here to spy? How many of you are there?’

‘No,’ I said louder than I meant to and then quietly added, ‘no, I came to talk to you and your father.’

‘Why?’

‘I wanted to try to talk you out of attacking Duir.’

‘And what magical rhetoric did you have in mind that would turn all of these soldiers into farmhands?’ This was a much more forceful and confident Jesse than I had known from just last winter.

‘I … I just was going to say that – you can’t trust Cialtie.’

Jesse turned away, mad, then spun and planted his face inches from mine. ‘Are you that stupid? You thought if you showed up and said “pretty please” we would all go home?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘well, yes. I’m sorry Jesse, I saw so many Brownies die today – I just had to do something to stop it. As soon as I got here I realised what a dumb idea this was. I was just about to fly out when you heard me.’

The old childlike Jesse flickered in the Brownie’s eyes. ‘You can fly?’

‘Well, up and down.’

‘What good would that do?’

‘Tuan’s out there ready to pick me up.’

Jesse quickly backed up and looked to the sky. ‘Your battle dragon is above us now?’ He said that louder than he should have and others began to notice.

I tried to quiet him down. ‘He’s not a battle dragon and he’s only here as a taxi service.’

‘A what?’

‘To give me a ride. This was … is a peace mission. I promise.’

Jesse calmed down. ‘I believe you, Conor, but coming here was madness.’

‘Well, I’m famous for my wit and good looks, not my smarts.’

Jesse forced a pained smile. ‘If we win this war you don’t think Cialtie will give the Brownies Duir?’

‘You know he won’t, Jesse.’

Jesse nodded.

‘And what will your father do when he realises that Cialtie has tricked him?’

Jesse turned his back on me and then in the dark I heard him say with a sigh, ‘He will declare war on the Banshees.’

‘And how will that turn out?’

Jesse didn’t answer so I answered for him. ‘Win or lose, there can be no good in this.’

He turned back. The only light came from a distant campfire that flickered and danced on Jesse’s face. It created an illusion – one second I saw the confident young commander that he had become and the next I saw the frightened young boy. His eyes gleamed with boyish water but the soldier refused to allow a tear to fall. ‘What should I do, Conor?’

I never got to answer. Not that I had an answer. Torkc guards appeared like magic out of the darkness. I got broadsided by an uncharacteristically brawny Brownie and went down like a quarterback on a broken play. The wind was knocked out of me for the second time in half an hour. I was still seeing stars when I was dragged to my feet. Then somebody clocked me in the head with something and I saw galaxies.

I awoke sitting on a wooden floor with my hands tied to a wooden pillar in the middle of a very large and very nice tent. As my eyes focused I saw a dais and at the top was the Alder Throne. This was King Bwika’s tent. It didn’t surprise me that the old jerk made his subjects cart around his quarter-ton throne. Those who are insecure in their power never leave their trappings of power behind. My father, on the other hand, only sat on the Oak Throne when he absolutely had to.

To my left and right there were guards. ‘Hey guys,’ I said, ‘I’m not planning on making any trouble. Would you mind untying me?’

I didn’t even get a smirk for my effort. ‘No prob, I’m fine like this really.’

But despite what I said, I wasn’t fine. In fact, I was in deep do-do. Bwika had me dead to rights. He now had me as a bargaining chip, a hostage. My mom and dad would now be forced to decide what was more important to them – their kingdom or their son. They would choose the kingdom – at least I hoped they would. I couldn’t blame them after raising a son as stupid as me. And what if Bwika told Cialtie? I’m pretty sure my uncle would send me home a piece at a time. I could see him sending Mom and Dad an ear-gram with his list of demands. After that, my nickname could be Van Gogh.

I heard a bunch of people enter the tent from behind. Jesse appeared in my peripheral vision flanked by three guards. He wasn’t tied up or anything but he didn’t look like he was free to go. I almost said hello to him but decided he was in enough trouble without me adding to it. When he caught my eye there was no smile.

We were left waiting like this for a long while before Bwika waddled in flanked by his snazzily dressed honour guard. I know I should have been worried about other things but I asked the guard nearest me, ‘How do you get your shirts ironed so neatly way out here?’

Bwika stopped in front of his dais and said, ‘Prince Codna, inform the prisoner that he is to speak only when spoken to.’

Jesse looked to his dad then to me and said, ‘Prince Conor, you are to speak only when …’

‘No,’ shouted Bwika. ‘Like this.’ The king turned, strode up and backhanded me across the face.

The blow cracked something in my jaw and my vision went white around the edges. I thought I was definitely going to pass out and then wished I had. Every part of me from the neck up screamed in pain.

By the time I was seeing things without little birdies flying around, Bwika was sitting on his throne.

‘Who else is with you, spy?’ Bwika asked.

‘I didn’t come here to spy, Your Highness.’

Bwika whistled and the rope around my chest tightened. All of the air was forced out of my lungs and I thought I was going to suffocate. Another whistle came from the king and I once again could breathe.

‘Don’t think about lying again, Faerie. Did you come to corrupt my son?’

‘I admire your son, Your Highness. I imagine he is incorruptible.’

‘Don’t bandy words with me, Faerie. Why are you here?’

‘I came to warn you,’ I said.

‘About what?’

‘I came to warn you about Cialtie – he is not to be trusted.’

The king said nothing.

‘My uncle started this war so he can take Duir for himself. He needs to retake the Oak Throne in order to fulfil Ona’s prophecies. He will never let you or the Brownies have it.’

Bwika stared at me for long enough to make me wonder if maybe I had gotten through to him. Then he laughed. That cocky laugh that reaffirmed what I always thought about the Brownie monarch – he was an idiot.

I hung my head and whispered to Mom and Dad like it was a prayer, ‘I’m so sorry for the trouble I’m about to cost you.’ I had been so stupid and now I had given my enemies the upper hand in this battle. What would Dad have to concede to get me back? If he didn’t give up his kingdom he would have to give up part of his heart. I was so sorry I was about to put him through this.

‘You are a spy, Faerie,’ Bwika said, ‘and I sentence you to death by the sword.’

Death? Oh, crap. I hadn’t thought of that.