The Book of Dreams

by O. R. Melling

  Laurel felt a twinge of envy. Gwen obviously liked herself as well.

  “Thanks for bringing me here,” she said to Gwen. “It’s magical. I never noticed this spot, though it’s so close to Massey. I don’t know the city very well. I grew up in Niagara Falls.”

  The last of the summer sun shone through the trees and lit up the pink rosebushes around them. Though the road beyond was busy, the sounds of traffic were muted by the dense foliage.

  “There are little bits of magic all over Toronto,” Gwen said in between mouthfuls. “I started to find them soon after I got here. It’s a question of perception, isn’t it? Not just where you look, but how. There’s an old bank near Front Street. I spotted it the day I applied for a job at The Star newspaper. There in the cornerstone of the building, half-hidden behind tall weeds and overlooking a parking lot, was a beautiful centaur, carved in white marble! He looked as if he were supporting the bank on his shoulders. I could hardly believe what I was looking at, he was so beautiful. I stood there admiring him for ages. Then just as I turned to leave, I swear, he winked at me!”

  They both laughed.

  “I’m not surprised you see these things,” Laurel said. “You have a very different attitude toward Faerie than me. It’s like being brought up in the same family, but not having the same experience. Faerie has only been good for you; I can’t say the same.” Her features looked pained. “First it took my sister away, then came the disaster that was Ian and me. You know, most times I wish that world never existed.”

  Gwen looked sympathetic and didn’t speak at first. Then she asked curiously, “So how come you’re studying folklore?”

  Laurel was caught off guard. Her smile was wry. “Touché. That’s the one thing I can thank Faerie for. I really didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I always loved sports, but I never settled into one or trained long enough to be a professional. If it wasn’t for Faerie, I think I would have drifted through university without knowing what to study or where I was going. I really am fascinated by the subject. As you know from my story, my granddad also became a professor of folklore after his involvement with Faerie.”

  Gwen finished her sandwich and unwrapped a chocolate bar. “You want to know something?” Her voice was quiet. “I haven’t suffered as much as you, I know that, but it hasn’t been easy. Being in love with a mortal king is no picnic either. Dara is the hereditary King of Inch Island. While that doesn’t mean much in modern Ireland, it does mean a lot to the islanders and even more so to Faerie, not to mention Dara himself. Though he doesn’t live on Inch all the time, he won’t go too far away. We’ve talked about marriage, but then comes the hitch. No matter how much he loves me, he won’t emigrate. As for me”—she let out a huge sigh—“I’m American. I love my country. I mean, I found it hard enough crossing the border to come here. How could I cross the ocean?”

  The hint of despair in Gwen’s voice touched Laurel. With sudden insight, she saw that Gwen’s constant good spirits were a hard-won battle. There was no solution to the dilemma of a long-distance relationship. Their love was not a fairy tale. They could not live happily ever after in two separate places.

  “Well, never mind all that,” Gwen said, brushing the crumbs off her lap. “Let’s get down to business. Any luck with Dana?”

  Laurel shook her head. “She didn’t go in or out of her house all morning.”

  Gwen’s face creased with worry. “And there was no sign of her at school today. Something has happened to her!”

  “I don’t think so,” Laurel countered. “Her parents have been going to work as usual, and they look happy enough. They wouldn’t be acting normal if something was wrong. We must be missing her somehow.”

  “We’re being blocked,” Gwen swore. “That’s it!”

  Laurel frowned. “Do you feel a spell around you? I don’t.”

  “Me neither,” Gwen admitted. “But I swear I’ll go crazy if we don’t make some headway soon. I feel like a rat on a wheel. We’re running in circles and getting nowhere.”

  “How’s the job hunt going?” Laurel asked with sympathy.

  “It’s not,” she groaned. “My feet are killing me, bloody high heels, and I hate interviews. Sucking up to people just to get hired, it’s degrading.”

  It was so unlike her to be negative, Laurel knew things were bad.

  “And I’m worried sick,” Gwen continued. “Not one phone call or e-mail from Ireland. It’s not like Dara. It’s not like any of them. The only good news is that there aren’t any reports of strange deaths in the Irish media. I’ve been monitoring them on the Web.”

  The image that constantly tormented her flashed through her mind yet again: her boyfriend, Dara, lying facedown on the ground, limbs motionless. She was close to tears.

  Laurel, too, was living with the nightmare of no word from her loved ones. As each day passed with no sign of Honor or Ian, she felt the threat around her loom closer. And it was all the more sinister for being insubstantial. How were they to fight shadows?

  “What can we do that we haven’t done already?” she said, exasperated.

  “I’ve been thinking about that.” Gwen pulled out a brown envelope from her shoulder bag. “I’m going to Ireland.”

  Not for the first time Laurel marveled at the iron will behind Gwen’s mild manner. But she was even more surprised when Gwen handed her the envelope. Inside were hundreds of large bills.

  “There’s a small fortune here!”

  Gwen nodded. “It came by courier the day Granny contacted me about our mission. It’s from my friend Matt, the businessman in the Company of Seven. He’s a millionaire. Years ago, he was the sales rep of this company that was going bust and he got all the workers together to buy shares so they could keep their jobs. Then the Celtic Tiger hit, the economic boom in Ireland, and now they’re rich.”

  “I love stories like that,” Laurel said with a grin. “But you can’t give me this. Your friend meant you to have it.”

  “I’ve split what Matt sent. That’s your half. It’s his way of helping the mission. If we need to buy anything or rent a car or whatever.” Gwen looked suddenly uncertain. “I doubt he meant me to take a free trip, though.”

  “It’s the right decision,” Laurel assured her. “We’re in the dark. We don’t know anything and communications are down. I’d go too if I thought it would help.”

  Gwen looked grateful for support. “Only one needs to go,” she said, “and I’m unemployed with nothing to lose. You must keep trying to reach Dana.”

  “That’s the plan, then,” Laurel agreed. “Good luck. Call me as soon as you get there.”

  • • •

  Gwen was packing when Dara rang. She dropped the receiver at the first sound of his voice.

  “I’m here! I’m here!” she cried, scrambling to retrieve it.

  Her heart almost burst with relief and joy. He wasn’t dead! She could see him so clearly in her mind: the nut-brown hair framing strong features, the mischievous look in his eyes, the slightly crooked grin. The first time they had met was on an island road when he knocked her down on his bicycle. She was only sixteen, under a fairy spell, and unable to move. Thinking he had hurt her, he hoisted her over his shoulders and carried her to Granny Harte’s cottage. On holidays in Ireland, Gwen had become entangled with Faerie when her cousin Findabhair was abducted by the High King, Finvarra. When Dara heard the story, he was quick to join her. Gwen had liked him from the start, though she was too shy and insecure to show it; but it soon became obvious that he liked her too. She would never forget the sunny day they wrestled in the cold waters of Lough Swilly, and the heart he drew in the sand around his name and hers.

  He loved to tease her and make her laugh. “You have a brilliant laugh,” he would say. When she told him that she had never had a boyfriend, his reaction was instant. “I can’t believe no one has fancied you!” And of course when she asked him if he thought she was fat, his response was better still. “You’re not skin and bo
nes if that’s what you mean. You’re lovely. I couldn’t help but notice when your clothes were wet.”

  Though they lived in separate countries, their love had survived across time and distance. They spoke daily on the phone, sent e-mails and letters, and took holidays together whenever they could. Each ignored the cloud hanging over them, the fact that neither wanted to emigrate. They were young. They still had hope.

  “Are you well, love?” Dara asked her now.

  “Yes, I’m fine! Are you?”

  He didn’t answer the question, nor did he give her the chance to ask again.

  “How is the girl? Is Dana all right?”

  His words were abrupt. She heard the urgency and answered at once.

  “I think so. I mean most likely, yes, or we’d know otherwise. We haven’t been able to reach her in person but we’ve been to her home and—”

  “Thank God.”

  His relief was audible.

  “Dara, what is it?”

  Ever direct, he gave her the full brunt of the news.

  “It’s worse than we could have imagined, even with the warnings. The gateways have been destroyed. All of them. The bond between Faerie and the Earthworld has been severed.”

  Gwen caught the cry in her throat. She forced herself to stay calm. She was the Captain of the Company of Seven. She could keep a cool head.

  “What are the consequences?” she asked immediately. “How long can the worlds exist without each other?”

  From her own mission for Faerie, she knew that the destinies of both worlds were inextricably linked. She had faced Crom Cruac, the Great Worm, the guardian of the balance between the worlds.

  I lie curled on the branch of the Tree of Life that bears both Faerie and your world like two golden apples. Two orbs, two moons that eclipse each other, one fantasy, one reality, balanced side by side. Humanity cannot exist without its dreams, but for any dream to exist there must be a sacrifice.

  Dara’s reply confirmed her fears.

  “You know yourself, we are responsible for Faerie’s existence. Without us, the Summer Land is doomed.”

  “Then so are we,” she said gravely. “Faerie is the Land of Dreams. Humanity needs to believe in something greater than itself. We need our dreams to keep us going.”

  “The strike is against both worlds,” Dara agreed. “But how it has been brought about is still a mystery. Granny has gleaned only the smallest part of the truth. We are still suffering the consequences of the death of the First King.”

  “What?!”

  Of course Gwen knew the story, it was part of her own tale. How Finvarra, the first High King of Faerie, had lost his immortality when he fought Crom Cruac as one of the Company of Seven.

  “But that matter was resolved,” she argued, “when the Midsummer Fire was lit by the Summer King and Faerie was healed.”

  “Apparently not,” was all Dara could say. “More lay in the shadows than we could know. Foul plans were set in motion before the Fire was lit. Who or what enemy laid them is uncertain, but we now face the dire results.”

  Gwen fought against the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. The Rescue of Fairyland was mankind’s eternal duty, but this was obviously much bigger and more sinister than anything previously faced.

  “What can we do?” she whispered.

  “The girl is the key,” Dara said, “even as Granny foresaw. The Light-Bearer’s Daughter must restore the gateways and soon. The worlds have begun to drift apart. By the power of the next convergence—Samhain—they will align once more. But unless a bridge is there to bind them, they’ll drift again. And if they do, it will be forever.”

  Gwen knew that the worlds collided at certain times in the year. These occasions were celebrated in Faerie as feast-days even as they were once held sacred by the Celtic peoples: Imbolc, the spring festival at the beginning of February; Lá Bealtaine, May Day; Oíche Lár an Tsamhraidh, Midsummer’s Eve in June; Lá Lughnasa or Lammas Day in August; and Samhain, the autumnal feast and the beginning of the Celtic new year, which began on Oíche Shamhna, Halloween.

  “It’s almost two months till Halloween,” she said with some relief. “At least that gives us time. What must Dana do and how can we help her?”

  The silence on the other end of the line was worse than a scream. Gwen’s stomach clenched. Here it comes. Because she knew him so well, she had sensed it the moment she had heard his voice. Dara was hiding something.

  “We don’t know,” he said at last. “We had hoped to learn more about Dana’s destiny from the Faerie Council, but that’s when …”

  Gwen’s vision flashed through her mind. Dara and Granny sprawled on the ground.

  She barely got the words out. “What happened?”

  He didn’t try to cushion the blow. He was the King of Inch. Like many such kings in modern Ireland, on Tory, Aran, and other islands, he had no official authority; but the title was held proudly through the generations. In the realm of Faerie, it meant much more. The hereditary kings were the only Irish rulers acknowledged in that land. Dara had already proven his kingship in defense of the Summer Country. He was a hero there.

  He spoke quietly, without emotion.

  “On the day the gateways were destroyed, every member of our Company was attacked. Matt and Katie are both in the hospital. Some kind of coma. Matt collapsed over his desk at work. They thought at first it was a heart attack. Katie was found lying unconscious in a field, her cattle around her. As for Granny and I …”

  For a moment his voice wavered. Gwen’s stomach clenched. She knew he couldn’t bear to hurt her. What terrible thing was he afraid to tell her?

  “What?” she pressed, reminding herself that he was alive and talking to her.

  “We were struck blind, Gwen. We are both blind.”

  “Oh, my love,” she sobbed.

  Now that the worst had been said, he moved to support her, speaking calmly and steadily to ease the shock.

  “We were entering the portal at Dunfinn when it exploded. The High King and High Queen were on the other side, waiting to greet us. The great stones flew into the air and we were blasted backward. I lost consciousness. When I woke on the hillside everything was dark. I thought it was night. We had gone to the fort just after lunch. I crawled around till I found Granny. She was wounded but awake. That’s when we realized the truth.”

  Gwen tried to hide the fact she was crying, but he stopped when he heard the muffled weeping. She was angry with herself. She knew she was making it all the harder for him.

  “Go on,” she said at last, taking a deep breath.

  “We’ve been in the hospital since then. We were released today. Judging by the state of Katie and Matt, we didn’t fare too badly. We’re disabled but not defeated. We’ll manage, I can promise you that. Granny has ordered a computer that responds to word commands. She’ll be in touch with you as soon as it’s up and running. I’ve moved in with her for now. We can help each other. You know the two of us. The indomitable Irishry. We just need time to adapt. The worst of it is we can’t come to join you. We’d be more of a hindrance than a help right now.”

  Gwen was still trying to absorb the enormity of what had happened.

  “I felt the blow,” she said, dazed. “I saw you struck down. And Laurel, the High Queen’s sister, felt it too. But how come we weren’t hurt?”

  “Granny says the protective spirits of North America can counter any spell. But you’re not clear of danger. Whoever or whatever dark force this is, it is bound to come after you and, particularly, Dana.”

  A chill ran up Gwen’s spine as she remembered Dana’s school. She told Dara what had happened there.

  “You must look out for the girl!” he urged. “She’s our only hope. This is her destiny. How she must fulfill it we don’t know yet, but Granny will keep trying to find out. You can count on that. And as soon as we know something, we’ll let you know. Until then, you must guard her. You must keep her safe.”

  “We can do it,�
� she assured him. “Laurel and I are on it.”

  Gwen managed to sound more confident than she felt. She was determined to match his resolve with her own. He had enough to deal with. She could hear the weariness in his voice. He was obviously still recovering.

  But even as their conversation drew to a close and the initial shock wore off, she began to feel the first waves of real pain.

  “Dara,” she murmured.

  “You must be strong, my love. There is always hope. And I am happy to know that you are not alone in this.”

  • • •

  After she hung up, Gwen stared dazedly at the telephone for a while. It took all her willpower not to ring him back and tell him she was flying out that night. And when she had won that battle, she canceled her flight. There was no doubt in her decision. She would stay and do her duty. He wouldn’t be happy if she did otherwise and neither would she. Whether big or small, they had their parts to play. Their love would have to wait.

  Gwen was about to ring Laurel to tell her the news when the phone rang again.

  “Gwen?”

  “Findabhair! Thank God you’ve called! Are you okay?”

  It was more than a year since Gwen had last seen her Irish cousin and that had been a flying visit. Findabhair was so immersed in her musical career along with her husband, Finvarra, that she had little time for anything else.

  “Aside from being knackered, I’m grand,” came the familiar voice. “Too many days on the road. Too much craic agus ceol. I got your message. Sorry, but I haven’t had a free minute till now. What’s up?”

  “We’ve got a serious problem,” Gwen began. “Faerie—”

  “Trouble in Paradise?” Findabhair’s tone was wry. “Are we surprised?”

  Quickly Gwen outlined the situation. Even as she spoke, she thought she detected a slight coolness on the other end of the line, or was she imagining it? Longdistance calls were rarely satisfactory. California was even farther away than Ireland.

  “How soon can you and Finvarra get here?”

  “Whoa, that’s not on,” Findabhair said quickly. “Sorry, but we’re in the middle of a major tour here. It took over a year to put this together. A lot of planning and money. We can’t leave our backers high and dry. There are concerts booked solid along the West Coast and then across Canada. We’ll be in Toronto mid-November. We’ll meet up with you then.”