“I know you did, Helena. And I know you can help here. You have a gift. You may not have control yet, but someday… someday you might.” He reached out to touch her, but she didn’t move forward to meet him. “You’re our only hope.”
“How do you know so much about all of this… this stuff?” She motioned around her.
“Danny’s a clairvoyant.” He slowly dropped his hand. “We’ve tried everything to help bring him back, but nothing has worked. The only thing we haven’t tried is a lobotomy. It’s barbaric and it would be irreversible. He would never be the same—yet Mr. Shane’s threatening to have it done if you leave us.”
“A lobotomy?” she asked, shuddering at the word.
“He wouldn’t want to use it just on Danny… he’d want to try it with my mother as well.”
She didn’t know what to say. Was Mr. Shane really that awful? If so, it was no wonder Graham had been so desperate to bring her into this strange reality.
“You’re their last hope. Please, Helena. Please try. Just touch him again. See what happens. See if you can heal him.”
It broke her heart to hear Graham beg. She couldn’t do what he wanted. She was no one, nothing special.
All she could do was show him that she wasn’t the woman he needed.
Helena stepped closer to the boy.
The boy’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as she placed her hand upon his cool forehead. A wave of weak energy pulsed between them. His body seemed to absorb the current, but he didn’t move.
She looked down at Danny as the energy ebbed and flowed between them. Unlike her experience with the little boy, the energy didn’t seem to go deeper or expand. She felt nothing but warmth—there was no pain.
“I don’t know what to do. I’m telling you, I’m not a healer.”
“That can’t be true.” Graham collapsed against the wall of the infirmary. “You just need more practice.”
She shook her head. He was giving her far too much credit. Just because there was some—some energy that ran between her and Danny didn’t mean that she could heal. For all she knew, she was merely imagining the feeling.
Graham ran his hands over his stubble and took a long breath. “Danny and I were always close as kids. When I first got my driver’s license, he and I had a special day. We went everywhere he wanted to go. We started at the sweets shops.” He laughed weakly. “He ate so many chocolates I thought he was going to be sick, but he held it together. By the end of the day we found ourselves at a football match between our two favorite teams—Manchester and the Republic of Ireland. I always promised him we’d go to another game, but then he got sick.”
“He sounds like a lad after my own heart.” She smiled. “I love the Boys in Green.”
Graham took her hands in his and looked deep into her eyes. “Just try to help him. Do whatever it is you need. Take whatever time you need. I want my brother and my mother back.”
Graham let go of her hands.
Helena knew the desperation he felt—she would feel the same way if any of her siblings fell ill like this.
She had to try again.
Closing her eyes, she imagined Charlie as he lay upon the river bank. She tried to recall the fear and adrenaline of watching the boy’s life slip away.
Using the time-dampened fear, she pressed her hands to both sides of Danny’s face. A slight current flickered through her. She tried to imagine the fear and confusion Charlie must have felt as he fell toward the water, but she felt only whispers of swirling energy. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to recall all the memories she had of the boy.
Nothing happened. The flicker of energy faded. She stayed motionless and waited for something to happen.
Guilt drove through her like a well-honed knife.
She couldn’t help Danny.
Helena glanced up at Graham. His eyes were filled with hope. “I’m so sorry, Graham. I don’t know anything about helping people.”
She dropped her hands from Danny’s face.
Graham stepped closer and she let him lift her chin. “Helena, you can help people. I know you can. It’s the reason Mr. Shane and I were so adamant in getting you and your father to the manor. It’s why we paid the warden to release him. I know you can help—but you must want to.”
“You paid off the warden?” Helena pulled away from his touch.
“We had to have you here.” He looked down at his brother. “Don’t you realize how much convincing it took to get you and your father here? It’s not like having your kind work here is something we normally do.”
“My kind?” Helena sucked in a breath.
“You know, gypsies,” he said.
“That’s shite.” She recoiled from him. “Is that why you brought me here? Because you think you can manipulate me? Do you think that I’m stupid? That you can flash some money in my face and buy me?”
He stood up and moved toward her, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand. “Helena… I didn’t mean—”
“You lied to me. You manipulated me. You manipulated my da. And now you bring me to a boy’s sickbed to pull at my heartstrings.”
Helena pushed his hands away from her and stormed out of the makeshift hospital, letting the door slam behind her.
Graham had the wrong woman.
If he had wanted her to do something, he should have been honest from the beginning. If he had wanted her to be a nurse, he should have told her.
He didn’t have to play the cloak-and-dagger game.
Helena stopped and pressed her body against the wall. Next to her was an oak cask, and stenciled on the end were the words “Jameson, Special Reserve.” A part of her yearned to open the barrel of whiskey and breathe in the scents of almonds, vanilla, wood, and pepper. She ran her fingers over the rough wood.
The door cracked open, and Graham stepped into the cellar.
“I’m sorry, Helena.”
She rubbed her dusty fingers together. “How often do you bring new clairsentients here?”
“I’ve never—”
“I tried to tell you the truth. Now you should try and do the same.”
“You are the first clairsentient we’ve had.”
“Bullshite. Is that what happened to all those people?” She pointed toward the infirmary. “You tried to have others like me help him, and they go mad?”
“What? What are you talking about, Helena?”
“This doesn’t make sense… Why would you have all these people in your basement if you weren’t trying to hide them?”
“They’re all here because we can help them. We have helped them. We have a book.” Graham stepped closer to her, and the smell of sharp antiseptic wafted from his skin. He moved his hands down his kilt, nervously smoothing it. “You’ll be nothing like any of those people in there.”
“Then what happened? Tell me the truth. How do I know I won’t end up like Danny if I help you?”
“Danny doesn’t have the gift of clairsentience, only the gift of sight. When the visions started, he couldn’t deal with all that he saw. He knew he needed help, but before we could do anything, he fell victim to his visions.”
Helena could understand the boy’s fears, the thoughts that had driven him to madness. If someone hadn’t experienced the darker side of living, it would be easy to fall into the chaotic fear created by the forshaw. Even for her it was a mental battle between what was real and what wasn’t, between memories of the past and thoughts of a future that brought her no comfort.
“Did he see the Dullahan too?”
Graham’s gaze dropped, and he shook his head. “You saw him, did you? I saw the gold in your hand, but I was hoping—”
“That you could keep the secrets of this place away from me a little longer?” Helena interrupted. “If you want me to stay here and keep workin’, or helpin’, or whatever it is that you want me to do, you need to tell me what is really goin’ on.”
He opened his mouth and paused, as if unsure of where to
begin. “The Earl of Dunraven built this manor to be a… spiritual portal.”
“He built this place for ghosts? For the Dullahan?”
“No, he built it to be as close to the paranormal as a human could be. The druids and the Celts all used this place as a threshold to connect with the spirits and to facilitate healing. Dunraven realized its potential to help those who were stuck between two worlds, like Danny, so he built the manor. Nothing and no one was more important to him than this place.”
“How can bein’ closer to the spirits help with healing?”
“There are good and bad spirits. They all effect energy. Some draw it out and some give it away. And for those like you, this is a place where you have extra power. It’s like an amplifier. Whatever powers you have outside the village are multiplied as you near the manor.”
Helena’s head swam. “What else do you know?”
“There are secrets that we’re still learning about this place. Mysterious things happen, and the unexplained is a regular guest.”
She had said she would stay if he told her the truth, but now that she knew what surrounded them, and the danger it posed to her, she wondered if she had made a mistake. Perhaps some truths were better left unknown.
Chapter Twelve
There was nothing worse than not knowing what was going on—at least Helena had thought so, until she learned that Adare Manor served as an amplifier for the spiritual world. The door of knowledge had opened, and Helena had passed through. There was no going back.
Helena had tried to phone Da, but he hadn’t answered. He must have assumed that she would be fine in Graham’s company. How wrong he’d been.
The door to the manor slammed behind her as she made her way out into the English-style garden. She weaved through the hedges and made her way toward the riverbank where she had rescued the boy until she reached a secluded bench. Black lichen twisted skeletal tendrils over the seat’s cracked and aged surface. When she sat down, the cold cement drew the warmth from her skin like the boy had drawn her energy.
Did everything and everyone in this place want something from her?
It all seemed to come with a price. She wanted freedom, and she had found her way to the manor. She was given a job that was supposed to solve her family’s financial problems, but the chance had turned into something she had never expected.
Helena rested her head in her hands and tried to stop the tired tears that threatened to sneak out.
“I’m sorry.” Graham’s voice broke through her wall of self-pity. He sat down on the other end of the bench and dropped his hands between his knees.
“Where did you come from?” Helena moved away from him, teetering on the bench’s worn edge.
“I know you said you need time to think. But I didn’t want you to think you have to deal with this alone. Even if we just sit here and don’t speak, that’s fine.” He stared out at the river. “But if you want to talk or if you have questions, I’m here.”
She should have been angry that he’d followed her. She should have berated him, but instead she found herself feeling glad that he cared enough to reach out.
“Where’s my da?”
“I sent him home. I told him I would bring you back to the campsite. If you want I’ll get someone else to run you back to your place.”
She didn’t answer.
The silence rested between them. The only sound was the river as it washed past on its way to something bigger.
Her mind raced. She wanted to run away, to go back to the camp and never look back at this crazy place. Yet beneath her selfish desire to escape, the need to help was stronger. If she left this place, if she left Graham, there would be no coming back. She would have to live with the guilt that she had rejected the chance to help those who really needed her.
For a moment she imagined Charlie on the river’s edge, his little blue lips motionless as he lay limply at her feet. Droplets of water slipped down his face. Helena blinked the memory away.
“What happened to Charlie?” she asked.
“What?”
“I never heard what happened to him.”
Graham peered down at his hands. “He only had a few bruises and a terrible fright.”
She nodded limply. At least she had helped one person. Saved one life.
Graham moved toward her on the bench. “I know you’ve probably had enough of the supernatural for one day, but… do you know why his mother couldn’t pull him from the water and you could?”
Helena thought back to the frail woman. “I thought he was just too big for her.”
“No. Not quite.” Graham looked up at her with a tired sadness in his eyes. “We try to be careful about everything that happens here, but it’s impossible to keep watch all the time. Normally the water spirits are innocuous, and usually they aren’t out during the day, but for some reason the Glashtyn wanted that boy.”
“The Glashtyn?”
“You know… the little goblin that lures small children into the water and drowns them.”
“I know what the Glashtyn is.” Helena paused. “But what about the boy, was he some kind of…” What was she to call the thing she was? Supernatural? A freak?
“Charlie was just an innocent victim.” He moved his hand closer to her, but stopped and dropped it on the black edge of the bench. “Are you okay? I know this is a lot to take in. After what you saw in the kitchen I’m impressed you didn’t end up in the infirmary. You’re strong.”
“I’m a Traveller. There ain’t no room for the weak.”
“That’s why we chose to bring you here.” Graham reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear.
The action came so suddenly that Helena let his fingertips caress her skin. His touch was soft and caring, and it shook her to her core. No man had ever touched her in such a way. The Traveller code said she should slap him for the touch, but another part of her, a deeper part, wanted to feel his hand on her.
He dropped his hand. Helena couldn’t look away from his strong, work-callused fingers.
“Is that the only reason you want me here, for my abilities and my strength?” Helena wished she hadn’t said the words. She didn’t know if she could stand the pain if he said yes.
Graham sucked in a breath, but didn’t reply.
“I shouldn’t have said that. Don’t answer,” Helena said quickly. “Look, I don’t think I can help you. I haven’t even finished my exams—I’m not close to being of any use.”
“What do your exams have to do with anything?” Graham forced a smile, and his teeth sparkled in the late afternoon sun. “I don’t care if you know geometry or literature.”
“I’m not much of a nurse. I know you think I can heal, but I have no idea how to do that. About all I can do is cook and take care of children. In the infirmary I’d be about as much help as a rotten potato.”
Graham’s smile grew. “That’s not true. I’ve seen how hard you work in the kitchen. You’d be a great help.”
Helena stared out at the river. “Yeah. I’d be a great maid.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a maid.” Graham tried to reassure her, but the words struck her as infuriating.
“That’s not what I want,” Helena snapped. “I don’t want to be a maid. I don’t want to work in the kitchens forever. I don’t want…”
There were so many things she didn’t want, but she couldn’t tell Graham about them. He had already given her more pity than she wanted.
“I need to take my exams.”
The edge of Graham’s warm hand brushed against hers. “Don’t let anything stop you. If you think that’s what you need to do, then do it.”
A lump rose in her throat. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Just because you are a Traveller doesn’t mean that you don’t have the right to take the fecking test. You can do whatever it is you want to do.”
Helena let his hand keep touching hers. The heat radiated off him, warming her skin. Her whole body begged to move
closer to him; she willed him to touch her face. For his fingers to linger on her cheek like a lover’s touch. For him to move in and kiss her yearning lips.
“When is this test?” Graham stood up.
The place where his hand had been grew cool. “It’s in a week and a half.” She stood up and followed him from the garden and toward the car park.
“Have you been studying?”
She shook her head. “I’ve tried, but not lately.”
“Is Mary working you that hard?” He smirked.
“No.” A wave of embarrassment rose within her as she thought of her moneyless purse. “I haven’t found another studier.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I just happen to be running into town. You can go with me. I need to run to a shop. Then maybe we can find a library or something.”
Helena smiled. “Okay, but we can’t be too long. Aye?”
“Aye.” He walked with her across the gardens to his white Mercedes. The door squeaked as he opened it and motioned for her to get in.
Helena hesitated as she looked at the passenger seat. Da had given his permission, but it still felt strange being alone with a man—especially if they were out at the shops. Yet, her desire for a studier outweighed her apprehension. As long as no one saw them, she would be okay.
Graham closed the door behind her. A rebellious, giddy excitement filled her.
Her exhilaration was cut short as her mobile vibrated. A text message popped up. It was from Angel, wondering when Helena would come by to see her.
She couldn’t see Angel—not today.
The sun sat low over Adare Village as they made their way out of town and toward Limerick. The radio crackled with static, and Graham pushed a button, putting a stop to the abrasive sound.
“Graham?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“Hmm?”
“Do you have an ability, ya know, like Danny?”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “There are many different types of abilities. If you’re asking if I can see the future like Danny—no, I can’t.”
“But you do have some kinda gift?” She bit her lip.
Once a Gypsy Page 11
