The Book of Dreams

by O. R. Melling

  ’Twas the same ancient fever

  In the Isles of the Blest

  That our fathers brought with them

  When they went West

  It’s the blood of the Druids

  That never will rest.

  THE GIANT WILL RISE WITH THE MOON.

  With a dizzying lurch, Dana found herself back on the city sidewalk. The musicians had finished their song and were packing up to leave.

  She ran over to the fiddler as he closed his case. “

  Wait,” she said. “Please. Are you here to help me?”

  The three stopped to stare at her. All had gray eyes, like the sea in her vision and just as cold. Though they barely reached her chin, she suffered the sensation that they were immense. As tall as the stones she had seen on the hilltop. She was completely unnerved. How could she have thought them comical, even for a moment?

  “I … I’m about to go on a journey,” she stuttered.

  They continued to regard her stonily.

  “But I don’t know where I’m going,” she said desperately.

  Still they kept silent. Their looks were veiled.

  “The song you were singing … about the giant?”

  “It be one of Stan Rogers.” The fiddler spoke at last. His voice was flat, as if to deliberately discourage her.

  “Where does he live?” she asked.

  “He don’t bide here no more,” came the answer.

  Looks were exchanged between the musicians, but she couldn’t fathom their meaning.

  Dana could have cried with frustration. It was obvious they weren’t going to divulge their secrets. Regardless, she was grateful for the music and the clues it seemed to provide. She had already taken out some money to give them. Since their cases were shut, she handed it to the fiddler. The red-haired man grinned with sudden mischief.

  “Ho byes. A generous hand, a generous heart. When I thinks about it, maybe we ought to tell her what she wants to know.”

  The drummer shook his head. “You knows it ain’t like that. We can’t do no more.”

  The tin-whistler agreed. “We’ve done our bit, that’s for darn sure.”

  Dana caught her breath. “Do you have a message for me?” she pleaded. “Are you here to help? Are you Companions of Faerie?”

  She was met with blank looks.

  The drummer smirked. “A little birdie told us about ye. Asked a favor. And now we’ve done it.”

  More questions rushed into Dana’s mind, but before she could open her mouth, the fiddler raised his hand.

  “Look, lass, what’s to be said was said in the song. You seen the Place of Stones in the music. You’ll know it when you sees it in the world.”

  Though the fiddler’s tone was almost friendly, the other two were growing more agitated by the minute. Fidgeting impatiently, they looked at their watches and then glared at her. Though she wanted, needed, to know more, she found her courage failing. The three were rank with the smell of whiskey and there was a dangerous edge to their annoyance.

  “Go raibh míle maith agaibh,” said Dana, thanking them in her own language as she backed away.

  With a last glance at his watch, the tin-whistler eyed the Irish pub up the street and smacked his lips. Tipping his cap in farewell, he dashed away, running across the road against a red light. The drummer raced after him without another word to Dana. Only the fiddler lingered.

  “Don’t be afeard where ye go, lass,” he said quietly. “The morning star shines in the east and there be my own country.”

  Then he, too, darted across the road, dodging the traffic, ignoring the blare of horns from irate drivers. Arms and legs akimbo, he held his fiddle above his head as if he were forging a river. When he reached the other side he turned back to her, beaming.

  “Mind now,” he shouted, “we are all family!”

  • • •

  Dana couldn’t wait to ring Jean with the news. There was no question now about which way they should go. To the east it was. And the song was the other clue. What was the place mentioned? She had heard them say “Bradore.” It sounded French. Somewhere in Quebec? Jean was bound to know.

  “Bras d’Or?” he repeated, when she called him. “Oui, je connais. It’s not Québec, non. It’s a big lake on Île Royale. Cape Breton Island. I never see this place but I think you will like it. They say it look like Scotland and also your country.”

  “Well, that’s where we start,” Dana said, delighted.

  They were both over the moon that they had a destination.

  “So how we do this?” said Jean.

  “There’s someone who might help.”

  Dana told him about the note from Ms. Woods.

  “So, she do know about the mission,” he said. “Remember she try to talk with you? What do you think?”

  “I’m not sure I trust her, but between you and me we should be able to tell if she’s an enemy or not. Maybe one could ask questions while the other watches her reactions.”

  “Good cop, bad cop?” Jean suggested.

  “Something like that,” Dana said with a laugh.

  “Bon,” said Jean. “We do this tomorrow.”

  • • •

  As it turned out, Ms. Woods had already moved to help them. Dana discovered that fact when Gabriel got home from work.

  “Your teacher rang today. Radhi got the call before she went out. Something about a field trip this weekend? Did you forget to tell us?”

  Dana was too surprised to answer right away, but her father didn’t notice.

  “That rules out Thanksgiving in Creemore. Your gran will be disappointed but it gets me off the hook. Don’t repeat that.”

  “So,” said Dana, recovering, “can I go?”

  “Sure. It sounds good and I can’t believe there’s no cost. She says she’s looking after transportation and everything. Talk about last-minute arrangements. Do you have a list of things to bring?”

  “No, but I know what I need. The usual stuff.”

  Dana’s head was spinning. Between the musicians and Ms. Woods, things were happening very fast. It seemed forces were moving at last to help her. Or was it that she had finally let them? The words of Lord Ganesha echoed through her mind. Your gods are all around you, child of Faerie, you need but open your heart.

  She rang Jean back only to find he was about to call her. His parents had just come home and Ms. Woods had rung them too.

  “So, she’s put the two of us together in this,” Dana said uneasily.

  She was not happy that Ms. Woods was taking charge and making plans on their behalf. But Jean was pleased.

  “This is good, eh? We take the help she give us. But still we go and demand who is she and what is she. We do this tomorrow.”

  In the end, Dana agreed to the plan, as it obviously made sense.

  But they didn’t get the chance to put it into action.

  For earlier that day, Gwen Woods had met Crowley.

  The day Gwen was offered a teaching job at Dana’s school, she went straight to Laurel to tell her the good news. The porter at Massey College recognized her and waved her through the gates. As she hadn’t called ahead, Gwen caught Laurel off guard. There was no time for the other to hide that she’d been crying. Her eyes were red and swollen from weeping.

  “I need to be alone,” Laurel mumbled, keeping the door half-closed.

  “I don’t think so,” said Gwen, gently pushing her way through.

  By the time they were both sitting down with cups of green tea, Laurel was ready to talk.

  “I can’t stop thinking the worst. If everyone in Ireland was attacked, then Ian would have been too. He could be lying somewhere in a coma or …”

  Gwen listened with sympathy. The same thought had occurred to her also, but she had kept it to herself. “He could also be safely in Faerie,” she pointed out. “You said he lives in both worlds. If he was there when the portals went down, he’d be stuck on the other side.”

  Laurel nodded and blew her
nose. “That’s what I believe on good days.”

  Gwen glanced around the room. This was obviously not a good day. Given that Laurel was a perfectionist, the state of disorder spoke volumes. Clothes littered the floor. Books and papers were strewn everywhere. Gwen had already noticed the photograph on the desk, which hadn’t been there before. Encased in a silver frame was a young man with raven-black hair, striking features, and the startling blue eyes of Faerie. He looked thoughtful and romantic, but also moody; like an Irish poet.

  “Ireland’s a small place,” Gwen said. “Do you want me to ask Dara about him? Maybe he and Granny could do some kind of search, with or without magic. I’m sorry, I should have thought about this before.”

  “You have enough to think about,” Laurel said, “and so do they. The mission is the important thing.”

  “Ian’s important too,” Gwen argued. “Everyone is. She reached out to squeeze Laurel’s hand. “We need to hold on to hope. It’s the only way we’ll get through this.”

  Laurel sighed and admitted quietly, “My hope is to see him again.”

  “That a girl. Are you ready for some good news?”

  Laurel was delighted to hear about the job. She rallied immediately, looking stronger and happier. The tide appeared to be turning in their favor at last.

  “You’ll be Dana’s teacher!” she exclaimed. “This can’t be a coincidence!”

  “There’s no such thing as coincidence,” they said together, then laughed.

  Gwen was glad to see the change in Laurel. “It’ll be a piece of cake to approach the girl now. She’s far more likely to trust her teacher than some stranger off the street.”

  • • •

  Dara was also overjoyed when Gwen rang him with the news. All of them needed a boost to their spirits. Despite every effort to date, Granny had been unable to counter the spell that held the Irish Companions in its grip. Katie and Matt were still unconscious; she and Dara were still blind. Nor had she divined a way to restore the gateways. Though her auguries continued to point to Dana, they showed little else.

  “The situation’s hopeless, but not dire,” was Dara’s comment, made with his typical dry humor. “We’re working away. Granny’s the brain and I’m the dogsbody. She has me out on the road at all hours, getting lashin’s of this and lashin’s of that. I can’t drive, but I’ve got two feet and a cane. And don’t I know the island like the back of my hand?”

  Both Granny and Dara agreed that Gwen and Laurel should join up with Dana. The enemy’s attacks called for direct action and with no communication from Faerie they had to make their own plans. Gwen’s new position at the school seemed to support the idea.

  • • •

  But Gwen’s hopes of making immediate contact with Dana died her first morning on the job. The girl was not only absent that day, it turned out she had been away since the first week of school. When Gwen made inquiries, she was given reports on an illness and a car accident, with doctors’ notes attached.

  “No wonder we couldn’t reach her!” Laurel said, when Gwen rang to tell her. “She must have been attacked!”

  “Maybe. But the medical reports didn’t sound serious. Could it just be a coincidence? But we know the party line on that … She’s expected back soon. We’ll just have to wait till then.”

  • • •

  The day Dana arrived back in the classroom, Gwen saw instantly that their fears were confirmed. She looked pale and fragile, like a porcelain doll, and her eyes had a haunted look. There was no doubt that she had suffered a trauma of some kind; and though she appeared both shocked and relieved to see a new teacher, she also seemed distracted, and kept looking around. Was she searching for someone?

  From the front of the class, an astute teacher can tell a lot about her pupils. The faces turned toward her reveal a great deal about their feelings and attitudes, and the ease or hardship of their lives. Some students are naturally bright and cheerful, others sullen or rebellious. There are those who are utterly uninterested in being taught and those who demand to be challenged and stimulated. Then there are the ones whose features are closed like a door. For whatever reason, usually painful, they just want to be left alone.

  It was to this last category that Dana belonged, Gwen saw immediately. The girl was evidently a loner. Despite her long absence, no one greeted her when she entered the room, nor did anyone ask how she was. Moving quickly to the back of the class, she slumped into her desk. At lunchtime, she sat by herself in the cafeteria, reading a book.

  From the day Gwen took up her post, she introduced the practice of interviewing her students to get to know them. This provided an ideal opportunity to be alone with Dana. Gwen had decided she would casually introduce the subject of Faerie when they met. Given that the girl was obviously shy and withdrawn, Gwen knew she had to tread carefully. Still, she was not prepared for an outright refusal.

  “You want to interview me alone without my parents’ consent? Sorry, it’s not on.”

  Before Gwen could react, Dana had sped down the hall. For the remainder of the day, despite all Gwen’s efforts, the girl managed to avoid any further encounters.

  • • •

  “Something to do with her last teacher?” Laurel suggested when she and Gwen met that evening for supper.

  Laurel was picking her way through a Caesar salad. Gwen had a plate of spaghetti with a creamy sauce and strips of smoked pancetta.

  “Definitely,” said Gwen between mouthfuls. “I did a little detective work in the staff room. His name was Crowley. Seems he went through some kind of major change since the summer. Lost weight, became withdrawn, acted weird. No one liked him anymore. In fact, I got the distinct impression they were afraid of him.”

  Laurel looked shaken. “This sounds all wrong. Was he possessed by something? Gwen, you’ve got to be careful.”

  “I am, don’t worry. I’m up to the yin-yang in protective charms, plus I’ve put them around the school. The place is clear now, I guess with him gone. But do you see the good of this? Crowley has disappeared and Dana is still here. Whatever happened, she survived and he didn’t. Looks to me like we’re being helped.”

  “Could she have fought him off herself?”

  Gwen was scooping up the sauce with her spoon. “I’d like to think that, but I can’t. She’s no warrior. There’s no sense of power there at all. She seems weak and nervous. How can she possibly take a mission? No wonder your sister was worried.”

  “We’ve got to join her immediately. Granny and Dara say so too. We’re running out of time.”

  Gwen frowned. “I agree, but I don’t want to rush things and scare her off. She won’t trust anyone after being attacked. Certainly not her new teacher if the old one was the bad guy!”

  “Maybe I should talk to her?” Laurel suggested, but her voice was hesitant. “Since I look like Honor.”

  Gwen saw the grimace. Laurel didn’t feel the same way Gwen did about children or teens. It didn’t bode well. The girl needed to be handled sensitively.

  “Give me a few more days,” she suggested, to Laurel’s obvious relief.

  The waiter with the dessert cart was on the far side of the room. Gwen called him over despite the other’s protests.

  “This is my treat. Don’t be a killjoy. We’re celebrating my first real paycheck as a full-time teacher. And none of your low-fat nonsense,” she added.

  Laurel held up her hands in surrender.

  Gwen waited till the dishes of gelato were served, garnished with chocolate-covered wafers. Then she brought up the new topic as tactfully as she could.

  “Granny says she might be able to help with Ian … though she can’t make any promises. But she needs something personal of his. Do you …?”

  “Yes.” Laurel concentrated on her dessert as her face flushed with embarrassment. “I have one of his shirts. Oh God, this is so—”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you do,” Gwen said in a no-nonsense manner, “or she wouldn’t be able to work the
spell. So eat up all those calories and we’ll get back to your place and send it off by courier. The sooner Granny has it, the sooner she can find him.”

  Gwen’s tone helped Laurel to regain her composure.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  “Oh stop it. What are friends for?”

  • • •

  The next day at school, Gwen was astonished by the difference in Dana. The girl looked transformed! The haunted look was completely gone, and though she still sat in the back of the class, there was something dignified, even queenly about her aloofness. There was also an air of triumph about her, as if she had succeeded at something. She looked immensely pleased with herself, like the cat that had got the cream. In the days that followed, Gwen saw a steady increase in strength and vitality. Dana’s features seemed to glow. But at the same time, the girl became even more evasive and wily. No matter how often Gwen tried to cross paths with her or speak in private, Dana managed to slip away. She was adept at escaping, disappearing around corners, out of classrooms, down hallways.

  “As elusive as a fairy,” Gwen said ruefully to Laurel.

  They were taking turns watching over Dana. Like guardian angels, they followed her from home to school and back again to make certain she was safe.

  Though they didn’t admit it, they were also spying. Gwen now believed that Dana had a mission; that someone, somehow, had set her on the quest to restore the gateways. All the changes in the girl pointed to it. There was a definite air of determination and purpose.

  Laurel wasn’t convinced. “How could she know anything? The portals are down. There’s no contact with Faerie. If there were, we’d have heard something by now.”