The Book of Dreams

by O. R. Melling

  “Chicken.”

  “Steamed chicken feet.”

  Dana took a deep breath and was about to ask the question when the little great-granny yawned. She was waking from her afternoon nap.

  The Dragon Lady withdrew into the shadows.

  “Time to go,” said Georgia.

  Before the girls left, the little great-granny gave each a fortune cookie. On their way down the stairs, they broke open the cookies to extract the slips of paper.

  “You first,” said Georgia, popping the crisp biscuit into her mouth.

  “O nobly born, remember who you are.” Dana felt a little shiver. “I keep hearing that all the time! What is it?”

  “It’s a saying from the Buddha,” Georgia said, as if the answer were obvious.

  Dana’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve got brains to burn. So, what’s your fortune?”

  Georgia’s eyes widened as she read the piece of paper, then she burst out laughing and nearly choked on her cookie.

  “I don’t believe it! From the sublime to the ridiculous. Just my luck!”

  “Come on. Tell.”

  “May your life be as long and useful as a roll of toilet paper.”

  They laughed all the way to the subway.

  The hounds raced ahead to drive the wolf back. Back toward the hunter who shouldered his rifle.

  “NO!” Dana cried.

  The shot rang through the mountains. The wolf somersaulted in the air.

  Then fell to the ground, dead.

  • • •

  Dana woke, calling Jean’s name. Though her eyes were open, the last trails of her nightmare lingered in her mind. Weighed down with grief, she lay in the bed without moving. A tear trickled down her cheek. The only one she allowed herself. For today was the day of her destiny. The day she would succeed in restoring the portals or die in the attempt. She would do this for Faerie, for Ireland, and for Canada. But most of all, she would do this for Jean. It was an enormous task for one person, let alone a young woman, but she was ready to face it. Half-fairy, half-human, wind-walker, dream-speaker, she had the power to do it.

  By the time Dana got out of bed, she had wrestled the last of her fears to the ground. Dressing quickly, she headed downstairs and into Gran Gowan’s kitchen.

  Her aunt Yvonne greeted her. “Hey, sleepyhead!”

  Dee was also there, popping up waffles from the toaster and whipping them onto the table like Frisbees.

  “We’re better than you,” she sang, exultant. “Those who rise first are morally superior. It’s a universal law.”

  “What are you doing here?” Dana demanded.

  “We got in late last night,” said Yvonne. “As soon as we heard you were in Creemore for Halloween we knew something was up.”

  Dee sat down to pour a river of maple syrup over her waffles before attacking them. In between bites, she burst into song.

  But the night is Halloween, lady

  The morn is Hallowday

  Then win me, win me, an ye will

  For weel I wat ye may.

  “You promised to stay out of this,” Dana said accusingly.

  “Like we keep our promises,” Deirdre mumbled, her mouth full.

  “We considered behaving,” Yvonne admitted, “but it’s against our nature. You can’t leave us out,” she added quietly. “It wouldn’t be fair. Not after Vancouver.”

  “And especially since we’re skipping a hot party to be here,” Dee put in.

  Dana sat down at the table and helped herself to some breakfast. Her feelings were mixed. She loved being around her aunts, they would cheer up a corpse, but there was no question of leading them into danger.

  “And you’re not to worry about our safety,” Yvonne said. “We’re old enough and ugly enough to look after ourselves.”

  “Just accept the fact,” said Dee, reaching for more waffles. “We’re in this with you, whether you like it or not. We intend to shadow you all day. You’re not going anywhere without us.”

  “That’s what you think,” Dana muttered, but she couldn’t help laughing all the same.

  The dark cloud that hung over her brightened a little. She told them about some of the latest developments. Typically, they heard the good news and skipped the bad.

  “Fairies in Canada!” Dee cried. “Hooray!”

  “Our own great-granddaddy at the heart of it!” Yvonne said, amazed. “No wonder we’re crackers. And there’s Mom trying to blame it all on the Catholic side. Hah!”

  “I’ve got to see that book,” Dee said. “I feel a doc about families coming on.”

  Dana didn’t tell them about Jean. Even now, in the final hours, she protected his secret. No matter what happened, she would never betray him.

  • • •

  By lunchtime, Gabriel and Radhi had arrived from Toronto. After salads and quiche, the pumpkin pies were presented with fanfare and fresh cream.

  “Dana was as much the baker as I,” Gran announced to the table.

  “Her talents know no bounds,” said Dee knowingly.

  Yvonne threw her a warning look.

  “I’m glad we’re all together today,” said Gran, as she sat down at the head of the table. “Besides Halloween, we should also consider this a celebration of the new member of the family soon to join us.”

  “The gang’s all here, the gang’s all here,” sang Dee.

  “I’m so glad you’re into having kids,” Yvonne confided to Radhi. “Dee and I have decided to girl it out to the end. We do love being aunties, however,” she added, winking at Dana.

  Dana sat between her father and stepmother, drinking in the warmth and security of her family circle. It was just like in the old stories, she reflected; when the warriors were fêted and pampered before going into battle. As it was then, so it was now. She felt strengthened by the feast.

  “You are very quiet,” Radhi said.

  “I’m just happy to be here,” she said softly.

  The day itself had been dreary since morning, with a steely gray sky and fits of cold rain. Dana suspected that Crowley was working his ill will with the elements; but as the afternoon waned, other forces came into play. A warm southerly wind blew in to sweep the clouds away.

  Outside on the streets, in the last hour before dark, the smallest children set out for their Halloween trick-or-treats. Dana thought of how the night was celebrated in Ireland. Oíche Shamhna. The beginning of the Celtic new year. First there would be potatoes and colcannon for supper, followed by apples and nuts and a barmbrack cake with a gold ring inside. Once the night grew dark, there would be bonfires on the streets and fireworks. In the Faerie world, it was a bigger festival still, one of the special feast days when the two worlds collided and mingled in full. There would be feasting and frolic, and sorties into the Earthworld to cause mischief and mayhem. It was a time of great power when anything could happen, for good or ill.

  As twilight drew near, Dana went to her room to change. She had brought the clothes the Sasquatch gave her: the deerskin shirt and leggings embroidered with white quills and blue beads, the cedar bark apron that fell to her knees, and the high moccasin boots. The short cape of black feathers felt reassuring around her shoulders. Under his wings shalt thou trust. The staff of peeled pine felt like a weapon. She braided her hair in a single plait down her back, as the Bigfoot females had done. Finally, she took the white feather from the soul-bird in the North and attached it to her braid.

  A quick knock on the door. Her aunts barged into her room without waiting for permission.

  “Whoa, I love it!” said Dee. “Seriously shamanic.”

  Yvonne eyed the clothes thoughtfully.

  “How about costumes for us?” she asked her niece.

  “Yeah, come on, do some magic,” said Dee, more directly. “We want to be fairies. Not little pixie things. The gorgeous naughty kind.”

  To the same tune she sang at breakfast, she added more lines.

  Just at the mirk and midnight hour

 
; The fairy folk will ride.

  Dana frowned. She was about to tell them she wasn’t playing a game, when she stopped. Behind their irrepressible humor, she sensed something else. Her aunts were using jokes to ease the tension. They were determined to stay by her as long as they could. If they had magical garb, it might give them an edge, bring them closer to her. She was touched by their loyalty.

  As for working a spell on them, it wouldn’t be difficult. The quest had given her confidence in her gifts and abilities. Fairy glamour was a simple matter.

  “Any particular colors?”

  “You have to ask?” said Dee, dressed in black, as usual.

  “Fire and brimstone for me!” was Yvonne’s request.

  In the blink of an eye—and a spray of starry dust—the two were transformed. Dee wore a body suit of midnight satin, filigreed with silver. Yvonne got a flouncy dress that changed colors as she moved, shimmering from rose to orange to crimson and back again.

  “I’m wearing a Tequila Sunrise!” she cried.

  “This is fairy glamour,” Dana warned them. “A simple spell, really. And it isn’t real. You could be wearing tatty old rags. Or nothing at all.”

  The two aunts raised their eyebrows.

  “Who cares? We’re gorgeous!” cried Dee, twirling in front of the mirror. “But what’s at the back?”

  She twisted her neck to see. Yvonne did the same. Both gasped as they caught sight of the leaf-thin, pale-veined wings that fluttered from their shoulders.

  “Are they truly ours?” Yvonne asked breathlessly. “Can we—?”

  “Not in public,” Dana warned, “and only till the stroke of twelve.”

  “When we turn into pumpkins,” Dee said, nodding.

  With squeals of delight, they attempted liftoff. Their wings were like another pair of limbs, but they had difficulty coordinating movement along with direction. Bumping in midair, they were soon tangled up. As they landed on the floor with a thump, their screeches of laughter bordered on hysteria.

  Gran Gowan shouted up the stairs. “What’s all the racket up there?”

  Snorting and hooting, the aunts disentangled themselves and smoothed out their new clothes.

  Dana was holding her stomach from laughing so hard.

  “Come on, we’re dressed to kill,” Dee announced. “Let’s blow this pop stand.”

  • • •

  The sun was setting below the horizon. A dusky light suffused the air. Along the main road, fires burned in steel barrels to provide heat and light. The streets of Creemore were crowded with witches, goblins, vampires, fairies, princesses, and warriors, all trooping from house to house to collect their due. Jack-o’-lanterns flickered with orange light on every porch. Paper skeletons dangled in the windows. Shrieks and howls rang through the night. There were plenty of adults in costume too. The first full moon on Halloween in fifty years was due to rise. Everyone felt the magic.

  But they also felt something else. There was an edge to the night that shivered in the air like a chill. People glanced over their shoulders. Some frowned anxiously. Those with children held on to them tightly.

  Only Dana knew what the others sensed: not all the creatures who moved through the crowd were in fancy dress. She could see them slithering in the shadows, peering around corners, hurrying through the streets. Some were knurled and grotesque, toothed and clawed; others had tails and leathery wings, distorted bodies and baneful eyes. They had been called to this place to increase the darkness, to join the battle. And all were moving in the same direction. Toward the cemetery.

  Dana knew it was time to go. It was already twilight. But she needed to escape her aunts. Where was her grandmother? A simple distraction and she could slip away. At last Gran Gowan arrived with Gabe and Aradhana, bearing cups of hot chocolate. They admired the costumes of Dana and her aunts.

  “You’ve really outdone yourselves, guys,” Gabriel said to his sisters. “How did you construct those wings? They’re fantastic.”

  “It’s a whole pulley-system thing,” Dee said. “You know, special effects. Film stuff.”

  Aradhana looked from the aunts to Dana, but said nothing.

  “We’ll stop here,” Gran commanded. “This is a good spot. Now, there’s something special on the way, Dana. A real surprise. Wait till you see him.”

  In the midst of her family, Dana felt the pain of regret. She would have to leave them soon, not knowing if she would return. Though she had considered writing them a letter, she couldn’t think of a way to explain the situation or to make things easier. Sipping her hot chocolate and listening to their banter, she wished for a moment that she could forget the whole thing. Oh, to be an ordinary girl enjoying Halloween with the rest of them! Then an image of Jean flashed through her mind and the little fantasy died. Because of her, he was out there in the night, lost to humanity. She had to do what she could to bring him back.

  A church bell tolled, as if for a funeral.

  “Is it him?” said Dee, craning to see down the road.

  “Ssh!” said Gran. “Don’t ruin it for Dana!”

  The main street was lined with people waiting expectantly. A hush of suspense fell over the crowd. Now a sound broke the night.

  Hooves striking the road at a gallop!

  He came from the north, charging down to the south, a tall dark rider on a great black horse. Children screamed. Adults cheered. Everyone applauded. For the horseman carried his head in the crook of his arm!

  “He’s the local carpenter,” Gran was saying to Aradhana. “He’s also the King of Creemore at Oktoberfest.”

  Remembering the real Headless Horseman she had seen in the East, Dana joined the applause. But she was already inching away from the others. Here at last was the diversion she was waiting for. Like everyone else, her aunts were enthralled by the spectacle. But now as the rider approached them, Dana felt suddenly ill. A chill knifed through her. She almost fainted. As the horseman paused on the road nearby, her legs buckled under her.

  The dark horse reared up, eyes white and maddened. The cheers of the crowd swelled.

  Weak and dizzy, Dana could hardly move. It was as if she had been seized in an iron grip. That’s when she knew. The rider was no Creemore man. This was the real thing, an ally of her enemy: the Dullahan!

  Everyone’s eyes were on the horseman. They had all been mesmerized. It was only when Dana staggered against her aunt’s wing that Yvonne turned around. Her reaction was instant. Catching Dana in mid-fall, she quickly poked her sister. Between the two of them, they supported their niece and moved her back from the crowd.

  The Dullahan’s horse reared again, letting out a high-pitched screech.

  “We must get away,” Dana gasped.

  “I can see that,” Yvonne said, grimly.

  “Home!” said Dee.

  “No!” Dana said, struggling to stand up. Away from to the horseman, she was beginning to recover, but she still felt weak. She leaned on her aunts. “The cemetery. I must get there. Others will help.”

  They hurried down the street, behind the crowds, with Dana still supported by her aunts. But the horseman shadowed their movements on the road.

  “Shortcut to the graveyard,” Dee suggested to Yvonne. “Remember?”

  “You read my mind,” her sister answered.

  Dana was steadier now and they broke into a run. With the echo of hooves behind them, they raced down Mill Street and onto Edward. It was only when they reached Collingwood, not far from the cemetery, that they dared turn around.

  Their throats gorged with terror.

  Head back on his shoulders, the parade abandoned, the Dullahan was gaining on them fast.

  Linking arms with Dana, the aunts took to the air. But they hadn’t enough practice. Before they could go beyond his reach, the horseman bore down on them.

  With quick sharp blows, he knocked the aunts to the ground. Then he grabbed hold of Dana, pulling her onto his horse. She kicked wildly to fend him off, but his grip was like iron. The
horse sped down the street, away from Dee and Yvonne.

  Though they had cried out in pain as they struck the pavement, the aunts scrambled to their feet. With sheer will and resolve, they steadied their wings and took to the air again. Now they flew after the horseman like harpies.

  Distracted by Dana’s struggling, the Dullahan was caught off guard by the rear attack. Dee landed a swift kick in midair that sent his head rolling. Yvonne reached out for Dana and plucked her from the horse.

  “Shortcut nearby!” Yvonne hissed to Dana as they fled.

  Half-running, half-flying, the three ducked down the narrow lane that led directly to the graveyard. But when they came out at the other end, their hearts sank.

  There in front of the cemetery gates stood horse and rider. The Dullahan’s eyes blazed as he watched the road.

  “There’s no other way in,” Dee said with a little moan as she fought to catch her breath.

  The three huddled in the shadows.

  “We’ll have to fight our way past him,” Dana told them. She was already rubbing her hands to make a fireball.

  Shouts rang out from the street. Two lithe figures raced into sight. With shining swords drawn, they charged at the Dullahan.

  “Hey, it’s the Fair Folk,” Dee said, with approval, “arriving like the cavalry.”

  “Class act,” Yvonne agreed. “They’re off my hit list.”

  The horseman charged away without stopping to fight.

  Dana and her aunts raced across the road.

  “Didn’t expect to see you two again,” said Dee with a grin.

  “Not that we’re not glad,” Yvonne added.

  Findabhair grinned back. “Let’s just say the royal bollocking was effective. Tough talk can work sometimes. You’re both looking gorgeous, I might add.”

  “Fairy glamour,” Yvonne said airily.

  “Admiration’s mutual,” was Dee’s comment.

  Both Findabhair and Finvarra were dressed in black with silver chain mail, helmets, and swords. Both glittered like stars in the night.

  Neither Finvarra nor Dana had spoken. They stared at each other. Blood called to blood, as they acknowledged their kinship. In the formal manner of Faerie courteisie, Finvarra bowed to her.