by Che Golden
She sighed and rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. ‘I just want to be able to sleep again, you know? Have a proper sleep. You keep saying you just want life to go back to normal, Maddy, but it won’t. I’m tired of waiting for them to come and get us. We have to finish this.’
‘How are we supposed to do that?’ asked Maddy.
‘I don’t know,’ said Roisin. ‘But it starts with you, so it has to finish with you.’
‘You’re the one who draws them, Maddy,’ said Danny. ‘Even Granda said he had never seen so many faeries about the place until you came.’
Maddy looked at her cousins. It was true – their faces were pale and tired and marked by worry. She probably didn’t look much better herself. Danny’s clothes hung from his frame and it wasn’t just because he was growing so fast. Roisin, who had always been teased for being fat, was also looking a lot more slender. Her broad cheekbones were standing out in sharp relief below her shadow-smudged eyes. Her eyes were huge in her face, twin pools of melting chocolate, while her red curls fizzed against her pallid skin. Maddy had thought her cousin’s face had simply been changing as she grew up, – now she realized Roisin was stressed almost beyond endurance. She had been so wrapped up in her own misery she hadn’t noticed that her cousins, just like her, were still carrying around the events of last year in their minds, playing them out in their dreams, their tongues locked inside their mouths.
‘You know we could die?’ she asked.
‘Meh.’ Danny shrugged. ‘What’s new?’
‘At least I’d sleep,’ said Roisin. She smiled, as if it was supposed to be funny. But they all knew it wasn’t.
‘So where do we start?’ asked Danny.
‘We have to get to Blarney and find Nero,’ said Maddy. ‘He loses all power of speech this side of the barrier, but we have to get him back to Tír na nÓg. He must be looking for us.’
Roisin nodded in agreement. ‘We have to get all four of us back through the mound, and then we can find out what is going on, what drove him here.’
‘And then we’ll have a good reason to pick a fight,’ said Danny.
Then the other bit of bad news dawned on Maddy. ‘Granda is on his way here, straight after dinner.’
‘Why?’ said Danny.
‘Una told him about the dullahan, so now he’s talking about moving me somewhere safer,’ said Maddy, while Roisin groaned and Danny swore.
‘That’s it then, isn’t it? We’re finished!’ said Roisin, punching her legs with frustration. ‘We can’t just head out for Blarney now. Mam will never let us out of the house and Granda will be here before we can sneak away and then you’ll be gone. Myself and Danny can’t do this without you!’
‘I know,’ said Maddy. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
‘We need to stop him getting here, buy enough time so that we can sneak out tonight when everyone is asleep. Mam and Dad know nothing about Tír na nÓg or what’s been going on; they won’t be watching us in case we sneak out in the middle of the night. But Granda will – we’ve tried that trick too often. Once he’s here, there’ll be no getting away from him.’
‘How are we supposed to do that?’ asked Maddy.
‘Meabh,’ said Danny.
Roisin’s head snapped back up and hope bloomed again in her eyes. ‘Yes, of course, why didn’t I think of that?!’ she said. ‘She’s bound to help – she wants you back in Tír na nÓg, especially if there is going to be a fight.’
‘How am I supposed to ask her?’
‘Talk to the air,’ said Roisin. ‘She’s always listening, isn’t she?’
‘But what can she do?’ asked Maddy. ‘It’s summer. I don’t know how powerful she can be out of her season.’
‘She’s a monarch and a witch,’ said Danny. ‘She’s pretty strong.’
‘This alliance of yours has got us into enough trouble,’ said Roisin. ‘We might as well get something out of it for once.’
Maddy took a deep breath. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I’ll do it straight after …’
‘Dinner!’ shrieked Aunt Fionnula from the bottom of the stairs.
CHAPTER FOUR
The call for food was enough to send the monsters into a frenzy. They yanked their bedroom door back so hard the g-force nearly sucked Maddy into the room. She stood back and let them charge on ahead of her, whooping. Roisin rolled her eyes. ‘You’d swear they were never fed.’
The kitchen was unbearably hot and steamy. Aunt Fionnula was opening a window for a bit of relief as Maddy walked in. She noticed that although the room was as steamy as a sauna, it didn’t wilt her aunt’s helmet of hair, not even a tiny bit. Aunt Fionnula snapped orders at Sean, Ronan and Paul as they crowded around her while she tried to serve up the sausages, mash and beans.
‘DON’T touch the pot, it’s hot, keep your hands out of the beans, you haven’t even washed them, Sean, PUT THAT BREAD BACK, you do not need bread with your dinner!’
She nodded her head absent-mindedly while Roisin, Danny and the monsters talked to her. She slid Maddy’s dinner over to her without so much as a look and Maddy silently picked up her fork and began to eat. She noticed Aunt Fionnula was preparing a tray for herself and Uncle Jack, which meant they were having a TV dinner.
‘Eat everything up now and rinse off your plates in the sink, I’m not chiselling mash off all night,’ she said, before letting the kitchen door swing shut behind her as she tottered off down the hallway to the living room with the tray loaded with food and cutlery.
The monsters went deadly quiet, watching her retreating back with sparkling eyes, cocking their heads for the sound of the living-room door shutting and the volume on the TV rising. And then the entertainment started.
Ronan was first with a massive belch.
‘Stop it, that’s disgusting!’ said Roisin, while Danny tried to hide a smile behind his hand. The monsters howled with laughter and began to belch together like a demented bullfrog chorus.
‘Stop it right now or I am telling Mam!’ said Roisin, her voice rising.
‘Look, Ro!’ said Sean, opening his mouth and sticking out a tongue loaded with chewed-up food.
‘Sean, what has Mam said …’ Ro paused. ‘WHAT is that smell? Oh, Paul, you haven’t.’
‘I haven’t!’ he said, shoving a sausage into his mouth.
‘You have!’ asked Roisin. ‘That’s horrible. We’re eating!’
‘The one who smelt it dealt it,’ sang Sean.
‘The one who said the rhyme did the crime,’ said Danny, which had the monsters roaring with laughter again, food and spit spraying across the table.
Roisin threw her fork down in disgust. ‘Honestly, it’s like trying to eat with chimpanzees.’
While the monsters baited Roisin, Maddy looked at the glass in the kitchen door. The door to the living room stayed firmly closed and there was no sign of Aunt Fionnula or Uncle Jack coming to break up the party. Clearly her aunt and uncle were tired after working all day and in no mood to do any crowd control. It was now or never.
She put her fork down. ‘I’m going outside. The smell in here is awful,’ she announced, getting up from her seat. She couldn’t help but flick a glance at Roisin and Danny, who both looked at her and away again quickly. It was too obvious and the monsters picked up on it.
‘Why are you going outside?’ asked Ronan, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘What’s so great about outside?’
‘None of your business,’ said Maddy.
‘I’m telling Mammy you didn’t eat your dinner,’ said Paul.
‘Like I care,’ said Maddy, heading for the back door.
‘I’m coming too,’ said Ronan, getting up from his seat and launching himself at the door. Maddy lunged ahead of him and managed to get through the door before he did, but she wasn’t quick enough to shut it on him. He jammed his body between the door and the kitchen wall, his fingers wrapped around the door frame and his arm up to stop Maddy from closing it on him.
‘C’mere to me, y
ou,’ said Danny as he walked up behind Ronan and grabbed him under the arms, wrenching him away from the door. Ronan gave a howl of rage and swung round, throwing a wild punch that missed Danny by a mile. ‘Let me go, or I’ll burst ya!’
‘Push me and I’ll beat you good-looking,’ Maddy heard Danny say as he slammed the door shut. ‘And it would take me hours!’
Maddy sighed with relief as Danny blocked the doorway and the double glazing muffled the howls of rage from both boys. She walked across the tiny garden, its grass worn away by the monsters, littered with footballs, a mini-trampoline and a broken set of goalposts, and headed for the biggest piece of greenery around.
The house behind had a mature oak tree at the end of their garden that spread its branches over Aunt Fionnula’s fence. Uncle Jack was constantly grumbling about it and telling the neighbours to cut it down, claiming it cast too much shade over his garden.
Maddy turned her face up to the tree, hearing its broad leaves rattle as a summer breeze stroked their tips. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of life all around her. Somewhere a dog was barking, a dull monotonous sound devoid of all passion. Children were playing in their gardens and some of the neighbours were indulging in the great Irish summer tradition of burnt barbecue. Danny and the monsters were still rioting in the kitchen behind her.
Maddy knew if Meabh was listening, a whisper would be loud enough for her voice to reach the witch queen’s ears. When Maddy had given the Queen of Autumn her oath of fealty last year, she had choked it out as she was being dangled in the air by Fachtna, another homicidal Winter faerie. Meabh had heard all right, and as she had promised, she came straight to Maddy’s aid. But the barrier between the two worlds had been failing then and the faeries had been finding it easy to slip between the worlds. Plus, it had been autumn, when Meabh was strongest. Now the barrier was strong again and it was summer, Queen Niamh’s season to rule. Maddy didn’t know if Meabh would be able to hear her, much less do anything to help her.
She looked up at the oak tree, such a strong and majestic reminder of nature, here, in the middle of the city. Its whispering leaves spoke of green fields and tall grasses, deer stepping carefully through woodland and floating clouds.
‘My queen,’ she said, talking directly to the tree, ‘help me. You wanted this fight and you wanted me in it. I can’t escape this house without help, and once Granda is here I won’t be going anywhere. If you want the Hound to run for you, then you need to make it happen. I can’t get to Tír na nÓg on my own.’
The branches above her head dipped and the leaves rustled just a little more loudly.
Ask me nicely, they whispered, and for a moment Maddy smelt rain. Startled, she searched the tree’s foliage, looking for a flash of red hair, a gleam of gold jewellery or the sight of a bright green eye staring back at her from the fluttering leaves. Nothing.
She searched her mind for suitable phrases she had read in fantasy novels and took a deep breath.
‘I beseech you, my queen, aid your humble subject in her hour of need,’ said Maddy, trying and not really succeeding in keeping the sting of sarcasm from her voice. The sound of thunder grumbled in the distance, shocking everyone around her into momentary silence. Even the dog paused in its barking. Maddy shifted nervously from foot to foot. Perhaps she should have tried to sound a bit more sincere?
Better, the leaves whispered. But I could have done without your tone.
‘Sorry,’ Maddy muttered.
The tree said nothing more. Dark clouds began to build up, piling on each other as they rushed to obscure the sun. The temperature dropped a couple of degrees as the sunny back garden was thrown into shade and a chill wind began to blow around Maddy’s ears. She let out a long sigh of relief and let her body relax. Maddy had no idea what Meabh was up to, but it was obvious she had heard her and had the power to act. All she could do now was sit tight and see what happened.
She had just turned to walk back into the house when a flicker of movement caught her eye. It was Una, crouched in the corner of the garden, her rags wrapped tightly around her withered body. She was rocking backwards and forwards, tears streaking silently down her wrinkled cheeks while her soft eyes locked on to Maddy.
‘So you’re back, are you?’ asked Maddy. ‘I’m a bit angry at you for grassing me up to Granda.’
‘I had to,’ said Una, ‘for your own good.’
‘When people do things to me I don’t like,’ said Maddy, ‘it doesn’t make me feel any better.’
‘You have no idea what you have done,’ said Una.
Maddy shrugged. ‘Probably not. But I had to do something.’
Una shook her head, her face gleaming silver with the tracks of her tears. ‘Foolish child. Arrogant Hound.’
Maddy sighed. ‘You’re always having a go, but I’m still here and the world hasn’t ended yet. I’m still alive, aren’t I?’
‘No,’ said Una. ‘You’re just not dead yet.’
‘There’s no talking to you when you’re in this mood,’ said Maddy. ‘I’m going to finish my dinner and get some sleep. Stick around if you plan on being helpful.’
The little banshee just sniffed and looked away, an expression of disgust on her face.
‘Suit yourself,’ said Maddy, as she walked back into the house.
CHAPTER FIVE
Within two hours the wind was a raging beast, howling and battering its way up and down the street. It shook windows, knocked over wheelie bins and screamed through cracks around doors. The clouds piled up one on top of the other in soft charcoal folds and then unleashed the rain from their bellies. It hammered from the sky and bounced on the dusty pavement like stones. Soon the gutter was transformed into a muddy flood, litter and leaves swirled out of sight while water ran down the road in rippling sheets. Sodden barbecues were abandoned, children were yanked indoors no matter how badly they wanted to go out in their wellies and splash in the rain, and that annoying dog was silenced. It got so dark everyone switched on the lights in their houses, although no one pulled their curtains. As far as Maddy could see, most of the neighbours were standing in front of their windows, gazing open-mouthed at the shrieking storm that had blown up out of nowhere in the middle of one of the hottest summers Ireland had ever known. Even the monsters were stunned into silence, their grubby fingers clinging to the windowsill as they gazed at the chaotic sky.
The TV continued to flicker away in its corner as news bulletins warned of falling trees and flooded roads. ‘Freak weather conditions have been caused by an unforeseen collision of warm and cold air fronts over the Irish Sea,’ said a rather frazzled-looking weather presenter. ‘The storm is expected to die out in the early hours of the morning, but until then the public are advised not to make any unnecessary journeys.’
Maddy felt her heart lift a little bit when she heard this. Did this mean Granda would be trapped in Blarney tonight? Or would he send another Sighted to come and get her? But it would have to be someone Aunt Fionnula knew. Even she wouldn’t hand Maddy over to a complete stranger.
‘It’s freezing,’ complained Danny. ‘Can’t we stick the fire on?’
‘Do I look as if I am made of money?!’ barked Uncle Jack, as the phone started to ring in the hallway. ‘I’m not putting the heating on in July. If you’re cold, put a jumper on.’
Aunt Fionnula walked into the room and held the phone out to Maddy. ‘It’s Granda, for you.’
Maddy cautiously pressed the phone to her ear. ‘Hello?’
‘I can’t get out there until the storm is over,’ said Granda, and she could hear him grinding his teeth in frustration. ‘Awful handy this storm, isn’t it?’
Maddy felt her bowels turn to water. How much did Granda know? Had Una told him she was sworn to the Autumn Court? Granda was terrified of the Tuatha de Dannan, Meabh most of all – he’d hit the roof if he knew. While her mind worked at a million miles an hour, Granda sighed.
‘I will be there first thing,’ he said. ‘Don’t do anythi
ng stupid, Maddy. Just go to bed tonight and wait for me to come get you in the morning. I mean that. No sneaking out in the middle of the night.’
‘No, Granda.’ The lie tripped so easily from her tongue. But she didn’t really think he believed her – sneaking out in the middle of the night was what she did. He was hardly expecting her to change now, was he?
‘Be a good girl, Maddy,’ said Granda. ‘One day you will have children of your own, and then you will know what an awful thing it is to worry about them. Let me talk to your cousins now.’
I’d be a good girl, thought Maddy as she handed the phone to Roisin, if it ever got me anywhere.
Tucked up in bed that night she listened to the rain thundering against the window. Despite the drop in temperature, the room still felt stuffy with every window in the house sealed tight against the water. She was wearing jeans, a T-shirt and a hoody. The duvet was pulled up under her chin in case Aunt Fionnula decided to check on them before she went to bed. But everyone in the house had settled for the night and the bedroom door had not creaked open once.
She rolled on to her side and thought about the force of the storm. It was terrifying what Meabh could do even when she wasn’t the Tuatha in power, even in the mortal world. She thought about what the news presenter had said, about a warm and a cold front colliding, and imagined a blonde queen and a red-haired one fighting above the Irish Sea.
‘Are you still awake, Ro?’ she whispered in the dark.
‘Course I am,’ said Roisin, her voice muffled by her duvet. ‘I can’t sleep when I’m petrified.’
‘You don’t have to come with me, you know,’ said Maddy. ‘I’m not going to think you’re a coward or anything.’
