by Mary Lindsey
“Why would someone write that?”
“Because it is true.” But fools could be redeemed. “Muireann, listen to me. I need to go do something right now.”
She popped to her feet. “Oh, good. I’ll go with you.”
“No. You said you wanted to help me, right?” I folded the paper and put it in my pocket.
She nodded.
I considered telling her how charming I found her and that I hoped she would visit me in the harbor. But I was afraid my purely platonic sentiments would be misunderstood, so I simply stated the truth. “I need you to return to your world now.”
The hurt look on her face cut like a knife in my heart. “It is because your Anna will not like me here alone with you. Because I am beautiful like she is and she wants you to herself.”
“If I am very lucky, yes. She’ll want me to herself.”
She crossed to me and put her hands on either side of my face. “Your Anna is very lucky.” She pressed her lips to mine, then walked out the door into the rain. I watched from the window as she made her way toward the sea until I could no longer see her through the downpour.
32
O craving heart, for the lost flowers
And sunshine of my summer hours!
Th’ undying voice of that dead time,
With its interminable chime,
Rings, in the spirit of a spell,
Upon thy emptiness—a knell.
I have not always been as now.
—Edgar Allan Poe,
from “Tamerlane,” 1827
Francine!” I burst into the store drenched to the bone. “Francine, where are you?”
“I’m here, what’s wrong?” she called from the storeroom.
“I’m wrong. Anna didn’t write that letter!”
She appeared in the doorway with a grin on her face. “I know.” She reached around behind her and untied her apron. “Do you want some tea?”
“You know?”
“Of course I know. The Selkie girl brought me a recipe Anna had written and the handwriting didn’t match. Now, do you want tea before or after you call her?”
“No, I don’t want tea right now.” And calling her was out of the question. On the way here, I had decided that my relief over her love being true wouldn’t overshadow my consideration for her safety. “And I’m not going to call her.”
Francine folded up her apron and dropped it on the table. “Why in heaven’s name not? She didn’t forsake you any more than you did her. You need to make this right.”
I buried my face in my hand. She was away from here—safe from the Cailleach’s curse.
Francine patted my shoulder. “Ah, I see how it is.” She pulled my hand away from my face. “You’re dripping on my floor. I washed your old clothes. Go put ’em on and come right back here. I’m going to tell you a story.”
Something about putting on my old clothes seemed appropriate. I was returning to a pre-Anna life. Well, that was not exactly true. Because of Anna, I’d been empowered.
I tightened the belt on the too-loose trousers and hung my jeans on a hook in the corner to dry.
“There now,” Francine said, placing a cup of tea in front of me. “Tea makes everything better.” She sat in the chair across the table.
The silence that seemed to stretch on forever bordered on painful.
Finally Francine spoke. “You believe that keeping Anna away from here will keep fate from calling. That the Cailleach only can reach as far as this island.”
I looked away. Francine, as usual, had cut right to the essence of the situation.
She leaned closer. “Your selflessness is selfish.”
Unable to form an adequate or cohesive response to such a cryptic statement, I remained silent.
“Liam, lad. Did you tell her what seeing the Washerwoman meant?”
“I did.”
She smiled. “Let me guess. She told you it didn’t matter a hill o’ beans to her.”
I met her eyes. “In so many words, yes.”
She leaned back in her chair and picked up her teacup. “And what she wants doesn’t matter to you?”
I slapped my hand down on the table, causing my cup to rattle in its saucer. “Of course it matters.”
“Yet, when she left, you were perfectly thrilled that she would be coming right back to you.”
“Things were different.” I stood, holding the back of my chair.
She set her cup down on the table. “Yes. You were thinking with your heart and soul, rather than your head. Sit down.”
Not willing to cross her, I sat.
Again, she leaned in close. “Fate is a funny thing, Liam. You can’t trick it. You can’t outrun it. You can’t change its mind.”
“You said you didn’t believe seeing the Cailleach meant certain death.”
“My beliefs do not determine reality. Whether I think the Cailleach accurately foretells death is neither here nor there. What I know is that we only have so much time and that time should not be wasted.”
“Keeping Anna alive is not wasted time.” I shot to my feet, fully intending to leave the room and end the conversation before shion befoe changed my mind. I wouldn’t allow myself to put Anna in danger. Before the phone call from Miss Ronan, nothing could have kept her away. Now, she was content to stay in her world, and that was a gift I could give her.
Francine pushed away from the table. “What you do with my words is your choice, but you’ll hear me out, Liam MacGregor.”
In deference to her, I returned
“I promised you a story.”
I picked up my tea and took a sip. Francine settled into her chair and cleared her throat.
“There was this girl, you see. She was young and full of dreams. The problem is that she was stuck on an island and she thought none of her dreams would ever come true.”
“Is this an analogy for me?” I asked.
“I’d appreciate it if you would just let me tell my story and not interrupt. No, it’s not you. You are a boy, not a girl.”
I sat back, determined to hold my tongue. I couldn’t recall a time since my childhood when Francine wanted to tell a story.
“It happened on Bealtaine. Several of her friends’ handfasting ceremonies were to occur and she was terribly sad because she did not have a fine man to whom she would be tied. So, she set her candle adrift and wished for a beautiful man to come love her like no human had been loved before and she in return would reciprocate this love. She made this wish out loud, of course.”
She took a sip of her tea and stared at me. It was unclear whether she was testing to see if I would interrupt or whether she was making sure I was alert. Either way, I remained silent and stared right back.
After nodding, she continued. “Well, an Otherworlder heard her wish. Out of the water came the most beautiful man she had ever seen.” She patted the table. “You saw that little Selkie girl; well, let me tell you, the males are even more spectacular.” She winked and I laughed.
“So, she looks at this man and realizes he is her anam cara.”
“How did she know that?”
She smiled. “Well, she just knew. She felt drawn to him.”
I laughed. “And being drawn to him had nothing to do with the fact he was a beautiful naked man.”
She grinned. “That certainly didn’t hurt. Stop interrupting.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Now, they came up with all kinds of clever ways to be together without her parents knowing. She was worried her parents would figure out he was a Selkie and forbid her to see him. He would meet her on the jetty or by the cliffs in secret. But then the Cailleach appeared to her parents and then her brother, and all died of a fever within the span of two months, leaving the girl alone. Her lover no longer had to hide. He held her through the grief of losing her family and filled her nights with love.” Francine’s eyes filled with tears. “She would have died of grief were it not for him.”
She rose and filled the teake
ttle with water. “They were united in a handfasting ceremony the following Bealtaine.” Back still to me, she took a deep breath. “He saw the Cailleach that very night.”
I studied the wood grain of the table while she lit the stove under the kettle. No wonder she stayed to herself on Bealtaine.
Wiping her eyes with the cup towel, she lowered herself into the chair ne the chaxt to me. “She had lost everyone she loved. She was determined not to lose him as well. Instead of loving him and spending precious time with him, she persuaded him to go away—to outrun fate and flee beyond the reach of the Cailleach. Out of love for her, he did.”
For the longest time, she stared over my shoulder, as if seeing something play out in her mind. “He was dead within a week.”
I had no idea how to respond. Obviously, the girl was Francine. Perhaps telling the story as if it were someone else’s removed the pain to a degree.
I put my hand over hers. “You believe the Cailleach’s reach extends to Anna in New York.”
“I believe you would be foolish to assume it doesn’t.”
* * *
Muireann pulled herself closer to the edge of the rock. She had been preparing for this all night.
One gray head after another popped up only yards away, the yellow eyes sunken deep into the blue faces. The sun would be up soon, so she had to hurry. The Bean Sidhes did not tolerate daylight well.
“I have news for you,” she said to the Na Fir Ghorm. “The human male rejected me and says he will have no other than his chosen female.”
“You did not try hard enough!” the leader shouted. “You failed deliberately.”
“I did not. He believes she will never return, yet he still remains true. Please do not put them through any more. Let them alone.”
“Silence!” the leader ordered. “You will go back up there, Selkie, and finish this.”
She stretched her neck up to make herself appear confident. “I will not.”
The leader lurched up out of the water and grabbed her by the flipper. “Then you and your pod will die.”
She held her breath, thrilled he had taken the bait so quickly.
“Stop!” screamed a Bean Sidhe, materializing overhead. “This is forbidden! Manannán mac Lir will banish you from this realm if he discovers you have taken a human or Otherworlder life.”
“You knew they were here the whole time,” the leader growled, digging his claws into her flipper. “You have allied with them.”
She winced. “I have not. I asked them here like I asked you. They have agreed to drop the wager.”
He released her and slid back into the water, beard drifting on the surface like seaweed. “Ah, well, then, our clan is willing to accept their concession and claim victory.”
“But you haven’t won,” Muireann said. “You won’t win. The human pair’s love is strong. Give up before yo
u do them harm. Let it go. No winners, no losers.”
The Na Fir Ghorm leader looked above her head at the six golden forms that had materialized. “So, you are just willing to drop the wager?”
“Yes,” they cried in unison
Silent, the Na Fir Ghorm clan bobbed on the surface, all eyes trained on the leader. Overhead, the Bean Sidhes swirled in a formless golden vortex. Muireann shifted on the rock, heart pounding. Please accept, she prayed. Let this end.
The leader turned to his followers and then back to Muireann. And then, to her horror, he threw his head back and laughed, bubbles spillingbles spi from the corner of his mouth. His laugh was shrill, bordering on a scream. “Never!” he shouted. “We will never step aside. We will not even entertain the thought of losing.”
The Bean Sides took their female forms, hovering over the water. “Then we proceed,” one said.
The leader continued to laugh as the Bean Sidhes evaporated from view. “It will be interesting, little Selkie, to see how far your allies are willing to go to win. How much suffering will they allow the humans to endure before they forfeit the wager?”
33
We gave the Future to the winds, and slumbered tranquilly in the Present, weaving the dull world around us into dreams.
—Edgar Allan Poe,
“The Mystery of Marie Rogêt,” 1842
Francine dialed the numbers on the bottom of Anna’s letter and handed me the receiver. I was so nervous, I could hardly breathe.
The phone rang for what felt like forever, then Anna answered.
“Hey,” her voice said.
“Anna, I—”
“I can’t answer my phone right now because I’m on an island with no cell coverage. My parents know how to reach me, so if it’s really important, call them. Don’t leave a message after the beep, because I won’t be able to get it.”
It was a recorded message, probably from her last trip.
“If this is Liam,” the message continued, “I’m on my way back. I’m a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. Neither are you. We’re just out of our comfort zone.” Then there was a loud, metallic beep followed by silence.
I gently placed the phone receiver in the cradle. She was on her way back.
Francine studied me with a furrowed brow from the counter. “Are you all right, lad?”
“Yes, I’m . . .” I ran my hand through my hair. “I’m fine. Great, actually. I’m fantastic!”
“What did she say?”
I crossed to the counter, still a little stunned. “It was a message. It said she’s on her way. She’s coming back.”
Francine grinned ear to ear. “Anam cara can’t be parted for long.”
* * *
The flying vehicle landed near the large dwelling with a roar.
“What do you suppose is happening?” Keela asked.
“I hope Liam’s female has come to her senses and returned,” Muireann answered. “And I hope she takes him away to her world right away so the Na Fir Ghorm can’t hurt them anymore.”
Keela’s eyes grew large. “You want him to leave? I thought you fancied him.”
Muireann swam close to shore and rested on the rocky bottom, head above water. “I do. I love him. That’s why I want him to leave.”
“That makes no sense at all,” her sister replied, sliding next to her.
“Love doesn’t make sense. Not human love anyway. It’s all confusing and painful.”
A man Muireann had never seen helped Liam’s female out of the vehicle. After she had moved away from the machine, the man got back in and the thing roared and flew away. Liam’s female stood still, looking from the dwelling to the trail leading to Liam’s house, as if confused. Leaving her bag behind, she struck out on the trail toward the woods.
“She’s looking for him,” Keela remarked.
“I hope so,” Muireann answered.
“You are really ready to give him up so easily? He’s very pretty; I’d have a hard time doing that.”
“He’s even prettier than his skin.” Tears filled Muireann’s eyes. “And he was never mine to surrender. He has always been hers. He always will be.”
“Are they bound?”
“No.” Bound. Muireann’s heart raced. “Wait! That’s it. If they are bound to each other, then the Na Fir Ghorm will have to honor that and not interfere.” Muireann swam in a tight circle around her sister. “You are brilliant! That’s the solution!”
For the first time since the wager began, Muireann felt like the couple stood a chance. Even the Na Fir Ghorm had to honor an eternal bond.
* * *
All the things I wanted to say to Anna swirled through my head from the time I heard the recorded phone message until the helicopter flew overhead. Now, I couldn’t recall any of them. Sprinting up the path, my breathing drowned out the helicopter engines as it lifted off and soared out of sight.
She was here, on Dòchas. Anna.
I passed my house and stopped at the fork. The woods would be faster than the cliff-side trail, I decided. Just as I rounded the turn, I saw her. Well, more like I
leapt from the path in an effort to not crash into her as she bolted out of the woods.
I stared up at her from where I’d landed in the brush. I’d never seen anything so wild or wonderful. Her hair was tangled with leaves from running through the trees and she was breathing hard from exertion.
We simply stared at each other, and I understood. Words weren’t necessary. She was here for me. All of me.
I stood and pulled her close. She didn’t resist or say a word, she simply folded into my body and melted against me, heart pounding in time to mine.
“I love you,” I whispered into her hair.
“I couldn’t stay away,” she answered.
“Thank God. Anna, I’m so sor—”
She cut me off with a kiss. “No. No apologies. Not now. We both know it without saying it. I need you and you need me. That’s all there is—all there’ll ever be.”
I entangled my fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and kissed her. She was here, and real, and kissed me back with such passion, I grew dizzy. Nothing else mattered. I’d been given more time. I would live in the moment and savor every precious second as my dreams and reality intertwined.
A twig snapped behind me. I pulled away to find Edmond and Polly Byrne with Megan McAlister. Megan’s face was filthy, broken by clean streaks caused by tears.
“Can we speak with you, miss?” Edmond asked. “We saw the helicopter, so we were on our way to the mansion to see you.”o see yo
As if just startled from sleep, Anna blinked hard, catching her breath. I almost chuckled. The Byrnes’ timing was as terrible as the Bean Sidhes’.
Anna took a deep breath, sighed, then shrugged. “Sure.”
Edmond shuffled on the path, eyes cast down. “Well, it’s kind of private.” He shifted his gaze to me and then back to the dirt.
Anna squeezed my hand, then dropped it. “Okay.” She walked down the path with him until they were out of earshot.
