“Cade, wait,” I called out after him. Propriety be damned.
He paused and turned around to face me.
I strode up to him and threw my free arm around his shoulder and gave him a genuine hug. Not the psychotic, obsessive full-body tourniquet I’d been applying of late, but an honest-to-goodness hug.
“Thank you,” I whispered in his ear.
I released him and turned back up the path, casting him one last glance before I crossed my lawn. His shadow stood in the same place where I had left him, and if I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn he was frozen in shock. I grinned. Might as well let that fantasy play out since no one was here to convince me otherwise, not even my annoying conscience.
Cade’s shadow had vanished by the time I closed my sliding glass door, but for once I wasn’t completely torn up about his abrupt departure. He had given me a great gift, a rare and special one if my instincts had anything to say about it. Someday I would ask him more about spirit guides, but for now, I wanted to tuck my little merlin away somewhere safe and warm and get some sleep before any other supernatural interruptions had a chance to stop me.
-Four-
Meridian
The next morning I woke to an annoying chirping sound. At first I entertained thoughts of my brothers playing a birthday prank on me. When the chirping continued and no one came flying onto my bed to force me awake, however, I concluded the noise had nothing to do with them.
I sat up, feeling groggy and slightly dazed. The racket was coming from my bathroom. Had Logan and Bradley planted some weird booby trap for me? Grumbling, I got up and shuffled over to investigate. I nearly screamed when I peered into the bathtub, and then everything that happened the night before came flooding back: Cade, the baby merlin, my spirit guide . . .
The little chick stopped chirping as soon as it, she, saw me. Her eyes had opened and they stared at me with doleful longing. Then the merlin opened her mouth impossibly wide. Oh. She was hungry.
“Um,” I fumbled, looking around as if some form of sustenance would appear out of thin air. “Hold on a moment little bird.”
What the heck was I supposed to feed the poor thing? I was already failing as a mother.
A scratch at my sliding glass door caught my attention. Fergus! I dashed over, almost tripping on all the empty bowls from last night, and yanked open the door. The wolfhound sat waiting in silence, something with red fur and a tail hanging from his mouth. He dropped the dead animal at my feet and I squealed, hopping out of range. Gross!
A few seconds later and I remembered what Cade had told me the night before. Oh, right, food for my spirit guide. Ugh, this was going to be all kinds of unpleasant. I took a closer, wary look at the furry thing. It resembled the demented squirrel I had seen chatting with the raven those many months ago. He had brought me something Otherworldly.
“Is it safe for her to eat? I mean, I saw it fraternizing with the Morrigan once.”
Fergus flicked his ears forward and panted. Okay, I guess that was a ‘yes’ on the safety of its consumption. But I knew there was no way the little bird could eat this thing whole.
“Hang on a moment Fergus.”
I walked over to my desk and flipped on my computer. As it booted up, I tried to ignore the hungry cries of the baby merlin. So she seemed invisible to people, but would they be able to hear her? The computer monitor was asking for a password and soon I was browsing the internet for information on feeding merlin chicks. Apparently the parents fed them meat, torn off in little bits from whatever prey they caught. My stomach churned. I had to cut the dead thing up? Wonderful . . .
Sighing, I pushed away from my desk, picked up a pair of scissors and my manicure tweezers, and walked back to my door where Fergus lay patiently waiting. Okay Meghan, you can do this. The faelah’s already dead, and you have a hungry baby in the bathroom. Just like dissecting a frog in biology . . .
After fifteen minutes of snipping and tugging, three near-puking incidents and several muttered grievances, I managed to accumulate a small pile of meat strips for my bird. Placing them on a stack of several napkins, I carried the mess back into the bathroom and set it in the tub next to the box with the baby merlin. She must have smelled the blood, because she started cheeping more insistently. I’m glad I chose to keep her in the bathroom because the tub would be the easiest thing to bleach when feeding time was over.
I fed the merlin with the tweezers, dangling each strip of meat in front of her. The spirit guide was an enthusiastic eater, and despite my earlier disgust with regards to how to feed her, I smiled. She was rather cute.
“Good job little bird!” I whispered as she polished off the rest of the meat.
When she was finished, she gazed up at me with big, dark eyes and released a few cheeps. I interpreted them as sounds of satisfaction and became even more convinced when her eyelids drooped. She fell asleep with her head tucked next to one wing and I felt my heart melt. I was already in love with my little spirit guide.
“Sleep well, little merlin.”
As I watched her snooze, a thought hit me. I couldn’t keep calling her ‘little bird’ and ‘little merlin’. She needed a name. I stood up and cleaned up the mess I’d made and left my tweezers and scissors to soak in bleach water. I moved my spirit guide out onto my desk while I took a shower and scrubbed the bathtub. When I was done, I put on my old bath robe and wrapped a towel around my head. Time to research some names . . .
I spent a good half hour browsing through websites featuring old Celtic names. I sighed. Many of them seemed really unique and fitting for an Otherworldly spirit guide, but for some reason they didn’t quite fit. Giving up, I pulled out my Irish myths book and browsed through the glossary, looking at the names of the characters.
I snorted after reading the first few entries. For all I knew, some of these legendary heroes were still living in the Otherworld and I might be meeting them one day. It would be pretty awkward if I stumbled upon one of them and they learned I had named my bird after them. No, that wouldn’t do.
“Meg!!”
Bradley’s harsh voice startled me into dropping my book. Luckily, the noise didn’t wake up the merlin.
“What?” I hissed back.
“You gonna come up and open your presents?”
Oh, yeah. It was my eighteenth birthday. How on earth had I forgotten that?
“Yeah, um, let me get dressed. I just got out of the shower.”
I carefully carried my spirit guide back into the bathroom, placing her box in the bathtub. I gave her one last look and smiled. Her name would have to wait until later. I pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt and headed upstairs, anticipating some grand attack from my rambunctious brothers.
* * *
I spent the afternoon getting some homework for next week out of the way. True, I could have taken my family up on the offer of all of us going out to catch a movie, but to be honest, I had had my big birthday surprise the night before. I told them that if they just made something special for dinner, I’d be happy. Of course, Mom being who she was, insisted on running to the grocery store to pick out all my favorites. She forced Bradley and Logan to go with her, and I couldn’t help but grin. They would be good sports for my sake, but they hated shopping. Dad, being left with Aiden and the twins, decided to take them on a walk.
“I think we’ll check out that swamp at the end of the road that you’re so fond of Meggy,” he told me as he lathered them up with sunscreen and mosquito repellent.
I froze for a second, suspended in fear. Would the faelah bother them? Would my family even notice them? The day remained bright and sunny, so I released a breath, telling myself that I needn’t worry about Otherworldly monsters lurking in the swamp. Despite the fact that today was Samhain, the one time of year they preferred to sneak into our world, the sun would surely encourage them to stay in Eilé. I winced. Robyn had mentioned doing something for the Celtic New Year earlier in the week, but I’d been too distracted to pay attention.
I thought about calling her later, but honestly, I’d experienced enough Otherworldliness for the time being.
After Dad and my three youngest brothers left, I returned to my room. I checked on the merlin chick right away and she blinked up at me, cheeping in hunger. I sighed. I should have cut up more meat to store for later. Though I didn’t know where I could have stored it . . . If I put the faelah meat in a sealed container in the refrigerator, would it look like something else? Would someone eat it, not knowing what they consumed? I grimaced. Okay, so I couldn’t save anything. I glanced over at my door, wondering if Fergus was around. A twinge of disappointment hit me, but then I caught sight of a small, red furry lump on the concrete right outside the glass. I walked over and grinned, despite the gory scene. The hind leg of the faelah I had cut up earlier, if I was judging correctly.
Okay Meg, time to feed your baby . . .
Cutting up the raw meat wasn’t so bad this time. Perhaps I was getting used to the gore or maybe I knew my baby needed this sacrifice from me. I carried the bloody strips in on a paper plate I’d filched from our pantry. As I fed my little bird, I kept thinking about a name.
“What am I going to call you little one?”
Of course she didn’t answer, only snapped at the strips of meat and swallowed them whole.
Eventually, I ran out of food. I took the plate to our trash bin outside and scrubbed my hands and set the tweezers and scissors to soak in bleach again. I made sure to clean my merlin too, using a wet paper towel to wipe off the blood. Not wanting to go outside again, I flushed it down the toilet.
Finally, I picked up the box that acted as a temporary nest for my chick, admiring the design and wondering who had carved the wood. I placed the box on my bed and grabbed my world history book. Time to study for a test.
The baby bird examined me for several minutes before she let out a tiny cheep. I peeked at her, but she didn’t open her mouth, begging for food. Shrugging, I got back to studying the old Atlantic trade routes and the list of goods shipped along them. Cotton, sugar, tobacco . . .
Another cheep interrupted me. I peered down at the white fuzz ball. She continued staring at me again. Out of curiosity, I lowered my hand and gave her a little pet on the head with my index finger. Immediately, she started chittering enthusiastically, trying to cuddle up against my palm. Oh. She wanted attention.
Smiling, I carefully lifted her up and set her in my lap. She cheeped some more and scuttled around in a circle, making herself comfortable. I returned to my book when she stopped moving. She made a pleasant warm spot up against my stomach, and every now and then she let out a tiny cheep of satisfaction. As she dozed, I read. At one point I turned the page in my history book and glanced at a world map denoting the different routes early explorers took. I studied it for a while, marking the equator and the Prime Meridian.
Something in my mind shifted into place. The Prime Meridian. I knew about the Prime Meridian, the invisible line that ran from pole to pole. Why did that particular name stand out to me? I lowered my gaze only to find my merlin chick focusing on me with alert eyes.
Almost against my will, I said, “Prime Meridian. Meridian?”
The merlin cheeped once and lowered her head, going back to sleep.
Meridian, huh? I tried it out a couple of times and grinned foolishly. Meridian it is then. I caught a glimpse of my little merlin, full grown and flying through the sky, pure white except for her rusty colored ear patches. Yes, Meridian was a wonderful name for such a creature.
* * *
The next morning I woke up to find another dead animal lying just outside my bedroom door. This time the creature might have been a normal, earth mouse, but I couldn’t say for sure. I fed Meridian, smiling every time she cheeped in happiness. Of course, I only assumed it was happiness. After tending to her, I set the merlin on my desk and took a shower, emerging twenty minutes later, wrapped in a towel and humming some ridiculous song I’d listened to on my radio alarm only an hour before.
“What’s in the fancy box?”
I screamed and almost dropped my towel. One of these days I really was going to kill my brothers.
“Bradley!” I hissed in irritation, “What are you doing down here?!”
I scowled at him, but he was unperturbed. Every now and again my irksome siblings managed to sneak into my room, but they normally had the decency to leave me alone while I was taking a shower.
Bradley shrugged. “Aiden kept waking me up, so I went into the kitchen to get something to eat and I heard you were up.”
Like that was a legitimate excuse . . . He could have put on his favorite cartoon instead.
“So, what’s in the box?”
He stared at the wide-open box with a rather curious Meridian gazing right back at him. To my immense relief, she remained as silent and still as a statue. So, he couldn’t see her. Good, but I prodded him anyway.
“Why do you want to know what’s inside?”
“Well, I tried checking myself, but the lid wouldn’t come off.”
A mixture of relief and annoyance coursed through me. Clutching my towel and grabbing Bradley’s arm, I herded him back to the staircase.
“It’s my box and my business. How’d you like it if I snuck into your room and started going through your stuff?”
He shrugged. “I have nothing to hide.”
I winced inwardly. Oh, I had plenty to hide . . .
“Look, girls have certain things they don’t want their brothers poking their noses in, so please stay out of my room.”
There, that should appease his curiosity.
“What could you have to hide?”
I groaned. He wasn’t going to give this up. So I distracted him with a question.
“How did Aiden wake you up anyway?”
Bradley rolled his shoulders once more. “Nightmare I guess. He started acting funny after our walk in the swamp. I think he said something to Dad about seeing monsters or something. Meg, you okay?”
I stopped dead in my tracks and tightened the grip on his arm. My face paled and I sensed my eyes shifting color.
“Yeah, fine,” I recovered, “just don’t like the idea of Aiden having nightmares. He’s never had them before.”
I managed to get Bradley out of my room, and once he’d disappeared up the stairs I leaned against the wall, still clutching the towel around myself. My head wouldn’t stop spinning. Had Aiden seen a faelah? Impossible! They used glamour to hide themselves from mortals. Then again, enough of the ancient Celts had to have noticed at least a handful of Otherworldly creatures in order to build their mythology around them.
I finished drying off and got dressed quickly, returning Meridian to her spot in the bathroom with a few more pets and words of affection. Next, I plopped down on my bed and contemplated writing a note to Cade. I still had half an hour before I should leave for Tully’s, so I had plenty of time. After considering it for a minute, however, I decided to wait. Aiden probably hadn’t seen anything. If the nightmares continued or if he said anything to me about seeing monsters, I would send a message to Cade right away.
Shaking off the weird sensation that had almost taken root, I gathered my things and headed upstairs. Thick fog hung heavy in the air and as I made my way down the street, I caught a glimpse of Fergus, disappearing down the equestrian trail. I loved having him around, but soon I wouldn’t need his guardianship any longer. I was saddened by that thought, for he had become like a pet to me, but Cade needed him in the Otherworld.
A deep breath helped ease my mind. I continued on towards Tully’s, forcing myself to focus on the school week ahead. I had two tests, a paper due and Tully and Robyn had talked me into going to our homecoming football game with them. I flat-out refused to go to the dance (there was only one person I wanted to dance with and I was too chicken to ask him and he was stuck in Eilé making up for his geis violation), so in order to appease them I’d agreed on the game. I didn’t mind football. In fact, I watched a pro game on TV w
ith Dad every now and again. High school football was another thing entirely.
I sighed, my breath tingeing the air white and joining in with the fog. I doubted we’d be paying much attention to the game. Besides, our reasons for going had everything to do with showing our support for Will and Thomas. I didn’t know if cheering for the band was socially inacceptable at a football game, but I didn’t care. It’s not like I could get any weirder, and unlike last year, the popular kids didn’t intimidate me anymore.
-Five-
Danger
By Wednesday, I welcomed the approach of the weekend. My essay was turned in, one test was out of the way, and Meridian found some sick joy in keeping me up half the night with her chattering. Somehow I managed to stay awake during class, but lunchtime was a whole other story.
Tully, Robyn and I reclined beneath the shade of a tree perched beside the track. Will and Thomas had lunchtime band practice, what with the game coming up and all, so the three of us decided to eat away from the crowd. Not that I worried about being pestered by the lemmings. At least not anymore. Adam Peders hadn’t bothered me since the day Cade picked me up in his Trans Am. I grinned to myself at the recollection as I nodded off.
A sharp snap just in front of my face jerked me back awake. Robyn eyed me like a ruthless hawk; a look that made her appear quite fearsome. The black eyeliner only added to the effect.
“What’s with the Sleeping Beauty act?”
I scowled at her.
“Haven’t been able to sleep much.”
“Guy problems?”
My scowl hardened and my face warmed. Ever since ‘admitting’ to being interested in a guy outside of our high school last year, Robyn had been interrogating me like some caffeine-injected detective. Only one problem there: the guy wasn’t imaginary.
At least for now I allowed myself to tell the truth. “No, not guy problems.” Bird problems. Yeah, that would be fun to explain.
“Well, what then?” Tully asked as she balled up her paper lunch sack.
Dolmarehn - Book Two of the Otherworld Trilogy Page 4
