by Mary Lindsey
I’m here,” I whispered in her ear. “I’ll always be here.” The leg twitched again. I continued to whisper to her for a very long time until Miss Ronan changed out the bottles for warmer ones.
“Her color is better,” Francine said. “Pale, but the lips are no longer blue.”
A tremor racked Anna’s body, then another. Panic caused my heart to race.
“Ah, there we go. She has enough circulation to contract the muscles. She’ll warm up soon,” Ronan said.
Then it sounded like Anna choked. Ronan dragged her from me and patted her back. It was more like she beat her back, but within a short time, Anna coughed up liquid, then vomited. Francine blocked my view, so it was hard to tell exactly what was happening. I sat up.
“Yes,” Miss Ronan said. “That’s it, Anna. Get that seawater out.” A look of joy crossed her features. “She’s going to live.”
Anna coughed, gasped for air, then coughed again, and Francine held a towel under her mouth. “Poor darlin’,” she cooed. “You are doing great. Just great.”
Shuddering, eyes still shut, Anna moaned. It looked like her lips formed my name, but no word was uttered. “I’m here,” I said. “Forever.”
It wasn’t until the next morning the fever started.
37
We tremble with the violence of the conflict within us,—of the definite with the indefinite—of the substance with the shadow.
—Edgar Allan Poe,
from “The Imp of the Perverse,” 1845
Any news?” Keela asked, pulling herself up on the jetty to join Muireann.
“No. Nothing.”
Keela put her chin on her sister’s back. “They will be fine.”
“I’m not so sure. This is the second day Liam and his female have not come out,” Muireann said. “The one called Francine left this morning in aրI hurry. She went to her store but hasn’t come back yet.”
Keela scooted farther up on the jetty. “Why don’t you swim to the harbor, shed your pelt, and ask her what is happening? You have spoken with her before, right?”
She shook her head. “I’ve spoken with her, but she would not be friendly. She blames me for this.”
Rolling to her side, Keela sighed. “You are partially to blame, are you not?”
Muireann slid into the water without answering, heart heavy with guilt.
* * *
“The doctor should be here anytime now,” Francine said, putting a cool rag on Anna’s forehead. “Her parents answered when I called first thing this morning and said they were unable to come because of some business something or other with their family lawyer, but they would send the doctor immediately and would come as soon as possible if he thought they should.”
Anna shivered, not from cold, but from the raging fever that had consumed her body.
“She’s been like this for over twenty-four hours,” I said, retreating to the bathroom to pull on my jeans Francine had brought back from the shop. “This is bad.”
Francine opened Anna’s suitcase and rummaged around. “Yes, it is. But doctors from the mainland have miracle cures. You keep heart. She’ll be fine.” She pulled out a silky nightgown. “Here we go. It’s the most modest one she has. They certainly dress differently in her society.” She smiled at me.
I tried to smile back but failed.
“We need to shower her off. The cool water will help. Do you think she’d mind if you helped me?”
I pulled the shirt on over my head. “Of course not. We’re bonded.”
She gasped. “Truly?”
Now I really did smile. “Truly. Muireann performed a handfasting ceremony night before last.”
Her grin grew even wider. “An Otherworld bonding!”
I nodded.
“Oh, lad. Why didn’t you tell me when you came to unload the boat?” She folded the gown over her arm.
“I had planned to, but the storm came up.”
“Liam,” Anna muttered. Her eyes fluttered open. “Lawyer.”
I looked at Francine, who shrugged.
She closed her eyes again. “Need papers. For the girls. Promise.”
I had no idea what she wanted of me. “I promise.”
“She’s delirious,” Francine said. “We need to cool her off. Help me get her to the shower.”
It wasn’t long after we had showered Anna and changed the sheets we heard the helicopter.
The doctor was a gray-haired man wearing a bright blue short-sleeved shirt and tan pants. He came to Anna’s room immediately while the helicopter pilot waited in the kitchen.
He placed a large black bag on the bed next to Anna and put his hand on her forehead. “How are you, Annie?”
She moaned and shook her head.
He tugged the top to his bag open. “So you’re Liam.”
I nodded.
“I’m Dr. Jackson. Her parents told me about you. So did she.” His gray eyes met mine briefly as he pulled items out of the bag. “I’ve known her since she was a baby. You must have made quite an impression on her if she left home to come back here.” I didn’t answer for fear of saying the wrong thing. He put a stethoscope in his ears and placed it to Anna’s chest. Even though I’d never seen medical instruments, I’d read enough newspapers and magazines to recognize it. He scowled and rolled her to her side. “Breathe deep for me, Annie,” he said. She coughed. He moved the end around on her back while he listened.
“The woman who called the Leightons said she had fallen in the water and had become severely chilled.”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “Breathed in some water, maybe?”
I nodded.
“Did she vomit?”
“Yes.”
“Might have inhaled some of that too.” He put the stethoscope back in the bag and pulled out several white plastic packages of different sizes. “I’m going to give her some fluids and antibiotics. It looks like she has aspiration pneumonia. You were smart to contact me. We got it early and she’ll be fine.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding.
“Can you hold her arm for me?” he asked, pulling the wrapping off what looked like a small, clear version of the water bottle I held against her to warm her up.
I walked around the bed near the arm he indicated.
After tying what looked like a large rubber band on her upper arm, he unwrapped a piece of plastic with a needle sticking out of it and turned her arm over wrist up. Anna groaned. “You’ll be better soon, Annie,” he said. “Hold here and here,” he said, indicating her wrist and behind her elbow.
I held her wrist. He looked up at me, taking notice of my left arm hanging limp at my side. “That should be fine.” He wiped the inside of her elbow with a piece of cotton and stuck the needle straight into a blood vessel visible through the surface of her smooth pale skin. I winced. He looked up at me again after he taped the needle with the plastic bit on the end to her arm. “Have you never seen this done before?”
“No. We don’t have a doctor on Dòchas.”
“I figured as much. It explains your arm.”
All my life I thought a demon failing to put my skin on correctly was the reason for my useless arm. Since Anna, I knew no such demon existed. “What caused this?”
He hooked the bag of liquid to her headboard and ran a tube to her arm, fitting it into the end of the plastic. “Were you born with it?”
“Yes.”
He turned a round wheel in a blue plastic housing partway down the tube. Drops of the liquid fell into a clear cylinder farther up the tubing. “Was the birth traumatic? Is it possible your collarbone was broken during the delivery?”
The birth had certainly been traumatic—especially for my mother. A broken collarbone was possible. “Yes.”
He watched the drips in the cylinder for a moment, then stood and touched my neck and shoulder. He lifted the bad arm and ran his hand over my shoulder to my neck again. “I’m pretty sure this is Erb’s palsy. You’re lucky. Most peop
le who have it suffer aۀe it suft least partial paralysis on an entire side of their body. I’ve never seen an arm in isolation before.”
“What exactly is it?”
He closed his bag. “When you were born, you suffered an injury. If you had been born in a hospital, a surgeon would have performed a procedure and restored use of your arm. Since you were born here, without medical intervention, paralysis occurred.”
I had already reached the conclusion a demon was not the cause of my disability, but hearing it from someone who was an authority brought me considerable relief. I was not and had never been a demon.
“I’ll need to keep an eye on Annie for a day or so. Who do I see about that?” He put his black bag on the seat under the stained-glass window next to the stack of books saved from my shed.
“Miss Ronan is in charge of the house,” I said. “Shall I get her for you?”
He shook his head. “No, you stay here with our girl. She should be feeling much better soon and would probably like it if you were here.” He studied me a bit longer. “I sat with her at dinner at the wedding reception. She spoke of nothing but you. She’s changed. I attribute that to your friendship.” He nodded and closed the door behind him.
“Liam,” Anna said. “Stay.”
“I’m here,” I said, lying beside her.
“Forever,” she whispered.
* * *
Muireann hadn’t seen a single Na Fir Ghorm since the storm. As night fell, she repositioned herself off the beach where the couple had become bound so she could watch the house and the cave.
Not long after darkness fell, her location proved to be the right choice. Brigid Ronan, flashlight in hand, hurried to the end of the boulder where she had met with the Na Fir Ghorm before. This time, Muireann was determined to listen. The Na Fir Ghorm usually swam as deep as possible, only coming to the surface when they had to. Swimming a wide circle, she
zipped just under the surface, coming up on the back side of the boulder.
Brigid Ronan paced from one end of the flat outcropping of stone to the other, flashlight swinging loosely by her side. Her usual calmness was gone. Muireann had never seen her like this.
“News?” a Na Fir Ghorm demanded immediately upon breaking the surface. Muireann scooted farther to the far side so he would not see her.
“None,” Brigid Ronan answered, switching her flashlight off. “They have only grown closer. I beseech you to abandon this. The Bean Sidhes will not hold you to the wager. They will willingly let go.”
“Never. We will move to the next step.”
Muireann’s breath caught when Brigid Ronan began to weep. “No. I beg of you, no.”
“You owe us a debt. We made a bargain. You agreed to do our bidding.”
“I don’t want it—any of it if it means her life. Take the boy’s,” she begged. “He’s the one you want.”
Muireann couldn’t see the Na Fir Ghorm from where she hid, she only had a view of Brigid Ronan, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “What better way to destroy him than by destroying her?”
Brigid Ronan fell to her knees. Long after the Na Fir Ghorm departed, she continued to weep.
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38
Her high-born kinsmen came
And bore her away from me.
—Edgar Allan Poe,
from “Annabel Lee,” 1849
you’re fever free, Annie. How are you feeling?” Dr. Jackson asked, pulling the stethoscope from his bag.
Anna coughed. “Better.” Then she coughed again.
He placed the stethoscope on her back. “Take a deep breath for me.”
After a slow inhale, she coughed.
“You’re going to be doing that for a few days—maybe weeks,” he said, taking the stethoscope from his ears. “You’ll be fine, though. You’re fully hydrated, so I’m going to disconnect the IV, okay?”
She nodded and took the handkerchief Deirdre offered her.
He pulled the tube out of the cylinder on her arm and threw the almost-empty bag and tubing into the trash can.
Feeling utterly useless and helpless, I paced back and forth at the end of the bed while he pulled the needle from her arm and dropped it in a container in his bag. He taped gauze over the place he had inserted the needle.
“All done,” he said. “Do you have any questions or need anything else? I’ve left instructions with your housekeeper along with some cough medicine should you need it.”
Anna sat up. “Yes. I need something. It’s really important.” She held the handkerchief over her mouth and coughed. “Deirdre, in my purse on top of my luggage, there is an envelope. Please get it for me. I also need Miss Ronan.”
“I’m here.” Miss Ronan stepped in the room. She must have been lurking right outside the door.
Anna shifter higher in the bed. “I need Polly and Edmond Byrne right away. Could you get them?”
Miss Ronan’s expression remained the same with the exception of a slight lifting of the eyebrows. “They are already on the grounds working in the gardens. Would it be acceptable for me to send Mr. MacFarley to fetch them?”
Anna nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. Ironically appropriate, actually.”
Miss Ronan left as Deirdre handed Anna a large envelope.
“Dr. Jackson, I need you to witness something.” She opened the envelope on her lap and pulled out a document consisting of several pages. “Deirdre, will you please go find our pilot, Mr. Jennings, and tell him we need him to notarize a document?”
“No-tar-ize,” Deirdre sounded out. “Yes, miss.” She scurried out the door.
“I’ll leave you to your business,” I said, feeling totally out of place.
She smiled. “You can stay if you want to. It’s about Deirdre and Megan. When I was home, I set up a trust fund for Deirdre. I also talked to Suzette’s parents and they agreed to take Deirdre in. I’m sure they’ll take Megan too. The girls will never have to worry again. They’ll be in a loving home and will go to the best schools.”
Polly and Edmond entered the room. Both were out of breath and red-faced.
“I hear the liI hear tbrary calling,” I said, slipping out the door. Brigid Ronan, rigid as stone, stared at me from the bottom of the staircase.
“Thank you for helping Anna,” I said. “The doctor says she’s going to be okay.”
She neither moved nor spoke. Something about her demeanor sent tremors through me. I forced myself to remain controlled as I descended the stairs and made my way to the library.
Once inside, I took several deep breaths to calm myself. I flipped on the light and sat on a tapestry chair nearest the window. With sunlight streaming in, it would be the perfect place to read a book. I wondered if my mother had sat in that very chair reading. I pictured the portrait of her with her haunted expression and the spotted fur wrap draped over her shoulders. My breath caught. She wore the spotted fur of a harbor seal.
I closed my eyes and recalled her tortured face and her enormous brown eyes . . . like Muireann’s . . . like Miss Ronan’s. A wave of nausea passed through me. Like mine.
It made sense now. My mother had appeared out of nowhere. No one knew her. Well, someone had known her. Someone else I resembled.
Gooseflesh traveled up my arm, and the hair on the back of my neck prickled. I didn’t have to turn around to know Miss Ronan was in the room. “My mother was a Selkie,” I whispered.
She said nothing, but the rustling of her skirts let me know she was moving around the far side of the room. I turned to find her studying me.
“And my father was Francis Michael Richards.”
She stopped short. She had been in this house for twenty-five years, seven of them spent alone with Anna’s uncle before my mother arrived. Another piece of the horrible puzzle slipped into place.
“And he was your lover too, which is why you hate me.”
For the longest time, she stood stone still with the exception of the heaving of her chest with each desperate br
eath. She lifted her chin, her voice low and level. “I hate you for many more reasons than that.”
I sat still long after she left the room, allowing this new information to mesh with the old, raising more questions than it answered.
Dr. Jackson stepped into the room. “I’m heading out now. Annie will be feeling much better soon, but make her rest.” He extended his hand and I stood. “It was good to meet you, Liam.”
I shook his hand. “Likewise. Thank you.”
He smiled. “She tells me you’ll be coming back to the city with her. She’s very excited about it.”
“Me too.”
The helicopter motor roared to life outside. “Take care of her,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “See you in New York.”
Through the library window, I watched as the pilot helped Deirdre and Megan into the helicopter. Once Dr. Jackson was inside, they lifted off. The girls had made it. They were safe on their way to a new life free from the dangers and oppression of Dòchas.
Like I would be soon, leaving my miserable past behind forever.
I had an irresistible urge to run to Anna’s room and tell her what I had found out, but I decided that it would be prudent to wait until she felt better.
Maybe she’d like it if I read to her. I pulled the volume of Tennyson poetrennyson y from the shelf that matched the one from my shed. I flipped open to the table of contents. Pressed neatly in the pages was a sheet of paper. I unfolded it and read it several times. It made no sense. Maybe someone had made notes while reading.
I read it out loud. “‘It is where my spirit found escape.’” I shrugged and placed it on the desk.
Anna smiled when I entered her room. “They’re gone,” she said. “I did it! I really did it.”
I climbed onto the bed next to her. “Indeed you did. They’ll be grateful the rest of their lives.” I brushed her hair from her forehead. “How are you?”
