It was a steep climb up the slope and the ground was sodden from the storms, but Gabriel knew the way. Knew exactly where he was going. As he neared the clearing, his heart beat so fast his chest ached. He hardly dared to hope.
Please, he prayed.
And then he saw her.
There in the little glade, where the ancient oak withdrew to form a fairy circle, where the bramble curled in berry-laden tangles, there by a fallen tree trunk stood his daughter.
Dana waved shyly.
Still in the shadows, Gabriel stood stunned. There was something wrong. It was weird and disturbing. A strange light shone all around her, making her a ghostly figure. By some trick of perspective, she seemed as tall as the trees. And she wore a golden cloak.
“Can you see her?” Gabriel whispered to Aradhana.
He was beginning to fear he was going mad. Half-crazed with the need to find her, was he hallucinating this vision? He felt seized with a paralysis of mind and body. He was fairy-struck.
“I see her,” Aradhana said firmly. “Go to your daughter. Bring her home.”
It was all the urging he needed. As Gabriel ran toward Dana, the fairy spell broke. She looked solid and of normal size.
As her father came toward her, Dana saw the toll the week’s ordeal had taken. His clothes were rumpled, stubble covered his head and chin; his eyes were swollen from lack of sleep and constant weeping. Fear and despair had nearly destroyed him; her dear beloved dad who had raised her on his own and always done his best to make her happy.
She was suddenly a little girl who had endured a great deal.
“DADDY!” she cried. “MY DADDY!”
And she ran like the wind into his arms.
Gabriel gathered his daughter up, weeping and kissing her and crushing her against him.
“This is the place, isn’t it, Dad?” she whispered to him.
He looked around. Everything blurred through his tears, but he knew what she meant. He had known it the minute he saw the light in the trees.
“Yes,” he said softly. “This is where I met your mother.”
And as he looked toward the spot from where she had stepped thirteen years ago, Edane entered the clearing. She, too, appeared tall and shining at first; but though she diminished to human size as she approached him, she still shone like a star that had fallen to earth. Forever young, forever beautiful, she had not changed one iota since the day he had first set eyes on her.
As he gazed upon his lost wife, Gabriel finally accepted what he had always known but couldn’t admit. She did not belong to his world. She was one of the other race who dwelled in Ireland.
The blue fairy eyes regarded him solemnly, as if from a great distance.
“I regret the pain I have caused thee, Gabriel Faolan. It was not my wish and I have suffered also.”
Her voice was musical, like his flute. He was already thinking of her as a beautiful tune that belonged to his past.
“I want to thank thee for the great gift of our child,” she finished.
“The great gift you gave me also,” he said.
And the last strains of their song came to an end.
Still clinging to her father, Dana reached out to clasp her mother. For that one moment, suspended between the two pillars of her creation, Dana’s life was a complete circle, as perfect as a pearl. Though they would not live happily ever after together, they would all live happily.
In the shadow of the trees, cloaked in green leaves, a fairy king waited.
“I cannot stay,” Edane said, kissing her daughter good-bye. “We shall meet again soon, my dearest one.”
Now Aradhana stepped into the clearing. She had stayed where she was as she witnessed the family reunion; but when she saw the shining woman depart, she went to Gabriel and Dana and took their hands.
Together, the three left the woods and made their way to the road.
The last police car was about to leave, when the driver recognized Gabriel and Dana.
“Isn’t that the missing kid?” he said to his partner.
They were out of the car in an instant.
“Did the eco-warriors—?” the first officer began.
Gabriel hurried to explain. “It had nothing to do with them. It was …” He racked his brain, trying to think of an explanation, then realized the truth was best. “She was with her mother’s people.”
The policemen exchanged looks. It was often a family matter, these child disappearances.
“Do you want to press charges?”
“No,” said Gabriel, with a wry smile. “We’ll just have to work out some arrangements between us.”
Dana and Gabriel grinned at each other as they walked with Aradhana to the Triumph Herald.
“You okay, kiddo?”
“Couldn’t be better, Gabe. You?”
“I’ll live.”
h, the thrill of flying! The rush of wind and wings, blue depth of sky, white crest of cloud, and the sun rising! Upward, ever upward, as the world falls away!
It was even more magical than she had imagined.
“Da, this is brilliant!”
Dana pressed her face to the airplane window and gazed down, entranced. Ireland lay below her, like a great green cloth shaken out over the wavering sea. As a deep love for her mother country surged through her veins, she looked upon the land with fairy eyes. There was Saint Kevin by the Glen of the Two Lakes, the boggles chasing sheep through the Sally Gap, King Lugh and Queen Edane in their crystal palace on Lugnaquillia. And there, at the very heart of the tale, enthroned on the royal Hill of Tara were the High King and High Queen of Faerie.
Follow the greenway.
Dana caught her breath. Was that a flash of gray in the trees? Her heart skipped a beat. The pang of hope.
Not all that is gone is gone forever.
She turned to grin at her father. He, too, was brimming over with happiness. Like daybreak after the darkest hour, so many good things had happened since her return. One of the biggest surprises was her wholehearted acceptance of the move to Canada.
“But … what about … your mother?”
“It’s okay. She’ll be there too.”
He had asked few questions and she had offered fewer details. It wasn’t going to be easy, but they had already reached an understanding. He would not interfere with her connection to Faerie and she would not go away without telling him first.
The situation was eased by the presence of a third party.
“Gods, devas, fairies, they are all part of life,” was Aradhana’s view. “This can be hard for people to accept if they only think in squares and lines.”
“Are you calling me a blockhead?” Gabriel had protested, but then was mollified with a kiss.
That Aradhana was an indispensable part of the family was obvious to everyone; but it was Dana who had urged Gabriel to ask the young woman to marry him.
“It’s not that I haven’t thought about it,” he admitted. “I can’t stop thinking about it. But all these big changes happening at the same time: you and your mother, Canada, my new job, your new school … could we manage a wife and stepmother on top of all that?”
“Gabe, do you think we could do it without her? Do you want to?”
Now Dana leaned across her father to nudge Aradhana, who was reading the airline magazine. Despite the last-minute booking, they had managed to get three seats in a row.
“I promised Suresh I’d take tons of photographs,” Dana told her. “He’s going to put them on the kitchen bulletin board. Beside the ones of India.”
“He’s going to miss you,” Gabriel said guiltily.
“He will see me at the wedding,” Aradhana pointed out. “And he can come and visit whenever he likes. He will have much more money now that he owns the whole restaurant.”
Gabriel took his fiancée’s hand and pressed it to his lips.
“I hope you won’t regret your decision. Your entire life is about to change.”
“You swept me off my
feet,” she replied. “Where I come from, that is what suitors are supposed to do.”
Dana went back to her window-gazing. The plane was moving over the Atlantic Ocean. The cold waves rose and fell in slow motion. Life was so strange. Things had not turned out the way she had either hoped or dreamed. A happy ending in real life was very different from a “happily ever after” in a fairy tale. Still, she had to admit she was pleased with how things had turned out.
And, yes, she was happy.
a chroí (aah kree)—dear heart
a dheirfiúr bhig (aah greh-fur vigg)—little sister (vocative)
a fhaol bhig (aah ale vigg)—little wolf (vocative)
a leanbh (aah laano-iv)—term of endearment. Lit. “child”
anamchara (aah-num kara)—soul friend
an cuileann (awn quill-un)—holly
an dair ghaelach (awn dare yaa-luck)—Irish oak
An fathach mór ’na lui faoi shuan. (awn faw-hawk more naah lee fwee hoo-un)—The great giant lies asleep.
an leannán sí faoi shuan (awn laah-nawn shee fwee hoo-un)—the sleeping muse
An Taisce (awn tawsh-kuh)—Lit. “store house or treasury.” Ireland’s oldest and most powerful environmental body. Established in 1948. While it is very active in planning and development matters, education, anti-litter programs, protection of heritage and so on, it does not approve of or participate in more radical protest activities such as those of eco-warriors. See www.antaisce.org.
Ard Rí (aar’d ree)—High King
Ard Solas (arr’d suh-luss)—Lit. “The High Light.” Term used when addressing the president of Ireland, as in “Your Excellency.”
a stór (moh store)—Lit. “my treasure.” Used also for “my darling.”
Bean Níghe (ban knee)—Washerwoman, i.e., a fairy washerwoman
Bean Sídhe (ban shee)—Banshee (literally, “Woman of the Sídhe,” i.e., woman of the Faerie Folk)
bobodha (baw-boa)—variant spelling of badhbh (bawve), meaning “bogeyman.”
bogach (baw-gawk)—soft ground
Caoimhín (quee-veen)—Kevin
Ceol n’eán agus ceol an tsrutháin (kee-ole nane aw-guss kee-ple awn s’roo-hoyne)—The music of the birds and the music of the stream
Conas atá tú, a mháthair? (cuun-uss aah-taw too, aah waw-hurr?)—How are you, mother? It is an old and courteous custom to use “mother” or “father” when addressing the elderly.
Dún do bhéal. (doon duh vale)—Shut your mouth.
Dún Eadóchais (doon ade-oh-case)—Fort of Despair
Dún Scáith (doon scaw)—Fort of the Shades
Éist nóiméad. (aysht no-made)—Listen a minute.
Fada an lá go sámh
Fada an oíche gan ghruaim
An ghealach, an ghrian, an ghaoth
Moladh duit, a Dhia.
(fawdah awn law go sawve
fawdah awn ee-huh gawn ‘hroo-um
awn gya-luck, awn gree-un, awn gwee
muhla dit, ah yee-ah)
Long is the day with peace
Long is the night without gloom
Thou art the moon, the sun, the wind
I praise you, my God.
fado (faah-doe)—long ago. Note: Fado fado is a storytelling phrase best translated as “once upon a time.”
Fáilte romhat. (fawl-cheh row’t)—You are welcome. As in English used both to welcome someone and as a response to go raibh maith agat (go rev mawh a-gut), i.e., “thank you.”
faol (fwale)—wolf. Archaic, literary word. In modern Irish, the more common usage for “wolf” is mactíre (mock teer-uh), literally “son of the land.”
Faolán (fwale-on)—a derivative of faol, meaning “wolf.” Clan or family name anglicized to Whelan, Whalen, Phelan, Phalen. Also spelled O’Faoláin.
gabha an cheoil (gou-waah awn kee-ole)—smith of music
girseach (geer-shuck)—girl
Gleann Dá Loch (glenn daw lock)—Vale of Two Lakes
Go raibh míle maith a-gat. (go rev meela mawh agut)—Thanks a million. (Lit. “May you have a thousand thanks.”)
Imdha toir torudh abla
Imdha airne cen cesa
Imdha dairbre ardmhesa.1
Plentiful in the east the apple fruits,
Plentiful the luxuriant sloes,
Plentiful the noble acorn-bearing oaks.
Is breá an tráthnóna é. (iss braw awn traw-no-na ey, as in “hey”)—It’s a fine evening.
Lá Lughnasa or Lá Lúnasa (law loo-naah-saw)— August first, Lammas. Named after the Irish god Lugh.
Lasair (lass-eer)—flame, blaze
Lug na Coille (lew nah kwilla)—Lugh of the Wood
Magh Abhlach (maw awv’lock)—Plain of the Apple Trees (one of the many names for Faerie)
Má itheann tú ná má ólann tú aon ghreim istigh anseo, ní bhfaighidh tú amach as go bráth arís! (maw i-hunn too naw maw oh-lunn too ane ‘hryme ish-tig awn-shaw, nee why-hih too aah-mawk awss goe braw aah-reesh)—If you eat or drink anything in this place, you will not get out of here again!
méaracán gorm (marr-aah-cawn gur-um)—Lit. “blue thimbles.” The same Irish name applies to both harebells and bluebells, though they are different wildflowers.
méiríní sídhe (mare-eenie shee)—Lit. “fairy fingers,” i.e., foxglove
mo leanbh (moe laan-uv)—my child
muinchillí glasa (mwinn-killy glaw-saah)—greensleeves
Na Daoine Uaisle Na Gnoic (naah deen-uh oose-leh naah guh-nick)—The Gentry or Noble Ones of the Hills
ní (knee)—abbreviated form of iníon (in-kneen), meaning “daughter.” Hence, Dana ní Edane Lasair is “Dana, daughter of Edane Lasair.”
péist (paysht)—fabulous beast, reptile, snake, worm, monster
Phóg mé ar ais is phóg mé arís tú
Gheill mo chroí don leannán síofrúil,
Is thug mé cúl do gach aon dílseacht
Nuair a phóg mé do bhéal.2
(foe’g may air esh iss foe’g may areesh too
yell moe cree dunn laah-nawn shee-frool
iss huug may cool duh gawk ane deel-shawk’t
noo-ur aah foe’g may doe vale)
I kissed and kissed again
Yielded to the fairy spell
Left behind all love till then
When I kissed your mouth.
pollach (pawl-awk)—hollow place, from poll (pawl), meaning “hole”
scéal (sh’kale)—story. Note: sí scéalta (shee sh’kale-taah) are fairy tales.
’Sea. (sh’aah)—It is; yes. Abbreviated form of is ea (iss ah), meaning “it is.”
Seothó, a thoil, ná goil go fóill
Seothó, a thoil, ná goil aon deoir,
Seothó, a linbh, a chumainn’s a stóir.3
(shaw-hoe aah hoyle nawh goyle goe foyle
shaw-hoe aah hoyle nawh gull ane d’jorr
shaw-hoe aah linn-uv aah huh-munn iss aah storr)
Hush, dear heart, no need to cry,
Hush, dear heart, no need for tears,
Hush, dear child, my love and treasure.
Sídhe na Spéire (shee naah spare-uh)—The Fairy Folk of the Sky
Sídhe Slua na Sliabh (shee sloo-aah naah shleeve)—The Fairy Host of the Mountain
Siúil liomsa, a chara dhil, suas fá na hardaín,
Ar thuras na háilleacht’ is an ghileacht amuigh,
Le go ndeánfaimid bogán de chreagán a’ tsléibhe,
Is le páideoga lasfaimid dorchadas oích’.
Ní laoithe an bhróin a cheolfainnse duitse,
Ná ní caoineadh donóige nó doghrainn daoi,
Ach le silleadh a mhillfinnse méala an chumha
Sa phluais sin go maidin ar shliabh na caillí.4
(shool lumsa a karra yeel, soo-ass faw naah harrjeen
ayre hoorus naah hoy-lawkt iss awn yiil-awkt am-wee
leh goe nane-fee-midge baw-gawn jeh ‘hraa-gawn ahh shliv-uh
iss leh poy-juh-gaah lass-fwee-midge dur-kaadass ee-huh.
>
knee lee-huh awn vrone a ‘key-ole-fawn-suh duut-suh,
naw knee cween-aah duh-noy-guh know duh-yriin dee,
awk leh shee-laah aah will-finn-suh male-aah awn c’uh-maah
saa fluss shinn goe maw-jinn ayre shleeve naah caah-lee.)
Rise up, my love, and come along with me
On a journey of beauty in nature’s sunlight,
To smooth every stone as we walk on the hillside
And with rush candles light up the dark of the night.
No sighing of sorrow I’d ever sing for you
Nor wild lamentation, or sad foolish song;
With a glance I’d disperse the dark clouds of longing
In the cairn on the mountain, from dusk to dawn.
Sliabh na mBan (shleeve naah mawn)—The Women’s Mountain
Slua na h’Aeir (sloo-aah naah h’air)—The Fairy Host of the Air
Spéirbhean (speer-vaan)—Lit. “Sky-Woman.” A type of fairy lady.
Suas (soo-uss)—up
Tá an croí á réabadh sa ghleann, sa ghleann,
Tá an croí á réabadh i ngleann na ndeor;
Ceo is gaoth sa ghleann, sa ghleann,
Ceo is gaoth i ngleann na ndeor.5
(taw awn cree aw ray-bah saah g’lann saah g’lann
taw awn cree aw ray-bah iih ing’lann na nore
ky’oe iss gee saah g’lann saah g’lann
ky’oe iss gwee iih ing’lann naah nore)
The heart is torn in the valley, in the valley,
The heart is torn in the Valley of Tears;
Mist and wind in the valley, in the valley,
The Light-Bearer's Daughter Page 22
