Chapter Nineteen

 

 

 

The next day was Saturday, and in the afternoon, after a well-deserved rest, Ciara came to visit. At first, we were kind of shy. Up till then, we had only ever spoken to each other at school, in secret or while escaping from demons and kidnappers. We had a lot to learn about each other—what music we liked, what bands, what we wanted to do in the future…all that stuff.

As it turned out, we were pretty much on the same page about most things, and we seemed to do a lot of laughing. And I don’t care if it’s lame or corny or whatever, however much she laughed, I still heard silver bells and saw bluebirds flying. That’s just the way she was.

At four, Rosie, being Rosie, made English tea. Drawn by the amazing smell, we had joined her in the kitchen, where she was baking a cake. We chatted with her for a bit then she said, “Why don’t you two take the little garden table down to the arbor? I’ll bring the tea out on a tray when it’s ready.”

I had a moment of apprehension, remembering what had happened the last two times I’d been down there, thinking about Ciara. But I put the thought to the back of my mind. I lifted the white wrought-iron table, and between us we carried three chairs. It took two trips, and when we’d set them up, I sat and she strolled about, smelling the roses while I watched her. Somewhere a blackbird was singing into the September afternoon. A bee was buzzing lazily among the flowers. The air was sweet and heavy.

Ciara said, “I love blackbirds. They have the most beautiful song of all. Don’t you think?”

I nodded.

“Actually,” she went on, “I love all birds, and all birds love me.”

I laughed. “I remember.”

We heard footsteps, and after a second, Rosie appeared with a tray, bearing salmon and cucumber sandwiches, a rich fruit cake and a pot of tea. She set it on the table, sat and began to pour. Then she handed me a cup and said, “Don’t worry, Jake. Gorm won’t be joining us.”

I froze. “What?”

She smiled at me. Ciara came over from the roses and sat next to me. Rosie handed her a cup, saying, “You thought that the way to summon him was to come down here and think about Ciara.”

Ciara looked at me, beamed and burst out laughing. “Jake! That’s so sweet.”

I stared, aghast, from one to the other. “You know? You both know?”

Rosie put her hand on mine. “I’m sorry, Jake. I had to use Gorm. It was the only way. He’s an awful clod and he does forget everything. The poor love is three thousand years old. But it is so hard to get the help these days, even in Tír na nÓg.”

I shook my head, gawping from Ciara to Rosie and back again. “But…but why?”

She put down the teapot and cut into the cake. “Well, imagine… If you’d known I knew, you’d have been constantly asking me questions. You’d have been all over the place, wouldn’t you? As it was, you did a magnificent job of keeping it a secret from me and your father.”

“So, who else…?”

“Nobody, just me and Ciara.”

My head was still shaking like a toy Alsatian. “But, but, but…who are you?”

She stopped dead with a slice of cake halfway to a plate. Her face was suddenly radiant with love and a just a hint of sadness. She laid down the slice of cake and came and hunkered down in front of me, holding my hands in hers. “Jake, I know it’s hard. You believe I am twenty-six, just a few years older than you and Ciara, but actually, I am five hundred years old, and I am your mother.”

I went cold. The hair on my scalp prickled, but suddenly it all made sense. “Mom? My real mother?”

“Yes, Jake, it’s me.”

“But you can’t stay here, in this world. You have to go back.”

“Every so often, yes. I met your father and we fell in love. He is such a brilliant, kind, honorable man. He had no idea who or what I was, but we loved each other and I gave up Tír na nÓg to be with him, and we had you. But eventually I had to go back or die. Believe me, it broke my heart to leave you both. So much, in fact, that I had to return.”

“That’s why he fell for you so quickly…”

“He recognized me. He would never admit it—to me or to himself—but I know he did. And so did you.”

I wiped my eyes and my cheeks and realized my face was wet. “Mom, how long before…?”

She laughed. “Oh, a good few years. Don’t worry, but my powers will slowly wane. I don’t mind. It is you who needs to fight on, not me. I am just happy to be with you and George again.”

I frowned. “But what about Dicky? He’s my brother? Is he your son?”

She shook her head, stood and went back to her seat. “No. He is of our clan, and so he has the same name. He is my sister’s son. He is your cousin.”

I turned to Ciara. “And you… You knew. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She grinned as she bit into a huge slice of cake. “At first, I didn’t realize. That’s why I kept telling you it was impossible for us to be together. My mother gave me a prophecy—that I would meet, fall in love with and eventually marry a prince from Tír na nÓg. Well, who would ever have imagined he’d be an American?” She burst out laughing. Silver bells. Bluebirds. Then she turned to me again and smiled. “I wanted it to be you, but I didn’t believe it. Then when I realized? Well, there was so much going on, and it was kind of fun keeping the secret.” She gave me a funny look and added, “I’m surprised you didn’t guess, what with the archery and the birds and everything.”

Rosie said, “Ciara is Danu’s daughter. The highest clan. We are of the En, also among the highest. I doubt you will ever go to Tír na nÓg, Jay, until the time comes to pass over and you leave this world. But back there, you are a powerful prince. Always remember that. And you’re not here by any accident. You have a purpose. Humanity is coming of age, and it is time they learned to love the Mother, and we learn to live in peace with each other. If they don’t, Ar En and his friends will triumph, and that will be a dreadful tragedy.”

I sat, stunned, and thought about it. “So, the bow and the sword… That wasn’t Gorm. That was you.” She nodded. “And when we came out of the underground river…”

Ciara was shaking her head. “No, that was me. I knew that if we were going to deal with Ar En, it had to be in our world, where we could call on the help of my mother. And while we were there, you could get a glimpse of who you were and what it was all about. I used the tunnel to open a portal.”

I thought more then turned to Rosie again. “But if you’re my mother, I am not a changeling. I’m half-elf, half-human.”

Rosie—Mom—laughed. “It was one of the many things Gorm got wrong. You aren’t the changeling, Ciara is.”

Ciara gazed and said, “I am the daughter of the moon, Danu. I was sent here to help you against Ar En. Ar means, The Bringer of Fire. Jay is the Bringer of Peace. You and I have a lot of work to do together, my prince…” and she grinned from ear to ear.

Above our heads, the September sun continued on its lazy way toward the west, and on the chimney pot, a black silhouette against the autumn sky, the blackbird sang out its long, complicated song into the gathering evening.