Wild Irish Witch

by Tricia O'Malley

Fiona smiled and watched him turn, her eyes on him the entire time as he walked his last steps and closed the door to his room.

  “And now, we wait,” Fiona murmured down to Ronan, her eyes once again back on the fire.

  Time seemed to draw out and suspend in the air, and soon Fiona found it almost impossible to keep still. Her whole life she had been a doer― someone who took care of others. To sit by a fire and just wait for someone to die― well, that was virtually impossible. She looked around the room, but it was spotless, as was the kitchen. She’d already cleaned obsessively earlier today.

  “Let’s take in some fresh air,” Fiona decided. Aiden didn’t need her to sit here― he’d only asked that she not bother him until she was certain he had passed on. There had been no outward indication that he had passed― and a quick scan with her mental senses showed there was still other life in the cottage.

  It was the winter solstice after all, Fiona thought as she tiptoed to her room and grabbed a thick sweater, her coat, and a few of her crystals and magickal tidbits. It would do her well to honor the solstice in the ancient tradition of her people.

  “Come on boy,” Fiona whispered and padded softly to the door where she slipped on her Wellies and slid the door open quietly. Ronan walked out next to her and they stood in the darkness for a moment, the only light that spilling from the front window.

  “Let’s walk this way, Ronan, away from his bedroom window. I don’t want to bother him if he is staring out of it,” Fiona decided and hung a left.

  The cold pressed at her, and Fiona tugged her hat lower on her forehead to ward off the damp chill of an Irish winter. Her feet made no sound as she walked through the hills, and she could barely see a flash of the white in Ronan’s fur as he raced ahead over the hills. The moon was low, but at least the stars were bright.

  Fiona froze.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  A trembling began to overtake her body― Fiona didn’t know if it was shock or if it was an understanding that seemed to seep through her, causing her body to shake in wonder.

  Could it be? Would it be possible?

  Fiona searched her brain, thinking about the Winter Solstice and everything that it stood for. The Winter Solstice was the when the wheel of the year revolved past death and towards lightness and life. The Winter Solstice was about seeds and the path towards new birth― new life.

  Fiona crouched, huddling her body against the brisk wind that buffeted her, and pulled out a few crystals. She drew a circle in the ground and set her crystals at the direction points. She stepped into the middle, but stayed silent for a moment as she turned in a circle to look all around her.

  Darkness completely enveloped her― the only light coming from the window of the cottage far down the hill, and the few specks of bright stars in the sky. The moon was but a sliver, and hung low on the horizon. Fiona turned away from it and lifted her head to focus on one star― the one that shone the brightest of them all.

  “The magick of solstice lingers on,

  Though childhood days have passed,

  Upon the common round of life,

  A holy spell is cast.”

  Fiona closed her eyes as she cast her ritual and prayed. She made her wish― just like John had asked― and prayed that everything he had been trying to tell her was right. Opening her eyes, she looked around.

  Everything was still the same.

  “I wished, John! The moon is low and the stars are bright! I wished, damn it!” Fiona screeched, her words torn away by the wind that had picked up, tears beginning to stream down her face. She’d been stupid to think there was a glimmer of hope in her impossible plan.

  Served her right for drinking whiskey by the fire this afternoon.

  Fiona wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand and willed them to stop, but they kept flowing, blinding her vision. Her grief and loss seemed to reopen inside of her, shattering her strength once again.

  “I wished, John,” Fiona whispered miserably.

  Ronan butted his head against her knee, then pressed his body into her leg, offering her his comfort. She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe steadily. Loss was a part of life. These were just her feelings about losing Aiden.

  Ronan emitted a sharp bark, causing Fiona to open her eyes.

  A light, white-hot in its intensity, hovered over the cottage― as though the very star that she had wished upon had fallen to float gently above the roof. Her heart skipped and Fiona knelt to put her arms around Ronan, hugging his furry body to hers. He turned once to lick her tears away.

  “You love him,” said a voice to her right, and Fiona almost jumped out of her skin.

  She turned to see a man, dressed in regal court attire, looking at her. He glowed lightly― nothing like the white ball that hovered over Aiden’s cottage, but just enough that she could easily make out his features. Fiona squinted at him.

  “Aiden? Yes, well, he’s my friend,” Fiona said, continuing to hold Ronan in place even though the dog’s fur now stood on end.

  “Not that one,” the man waved his hand dismissively, “The other one. Your husband.”

  “Yes, I love him with all my heart,” Fiona’s voice cracked.

  “Ye’ve done good work in this world. Helped many,” the man said, as he began to walk in front of her, his hands at his lips as he considered.

  “I’m sorry― but― do I know you? I’ve only been visited by Grace before,” Fiona admitted. There was something vaguely familiar about the man’s features, but she couldn’t quite place it.

  “Ah yes, my lovely mother. She was quite the spitfire, wasn’t she?” The man grinned and Fiona almost fell over in shock.

  “Murrough,” Fiona breathed in shock.

  “Sure and you won’t be confusing me with that traitorous half-brother of mine,” the man swore, his features suddenly livid.

  “Theobald?” Fiona gaped. Theobald had been borne from Grace’s second marriage― she was famous for birthing him at sea immediately before going into battle. Fiona could only imagine what a fierce one he had grown up to be.

  “Aye, ’tis I, pretty kin of mine. I’ve come to bestow upon you a favor― perhaps a favor for a favor― I haven’t yet decided.”

  “You need me to do something for you?”

  “Yes, or perhaps one of my kin. I see that young Morgan is a mighty one,” Theobald raised an eyebrow at Fiona.

  “Aye, she’s quite talented. More gifts than the other girls.” Fiona wasn’t sure what to look at― Theobald or the glow that was hovering over the cottage.

  “Well, while your line is all descended from Maeve, there’s more of us that you seem to have forgotten about. I suppose my kin would be cousins of yours,” Theobald said, and Fiona simply went still.

  “More of us,” she breathed, her arms tight around Ronan.

  “Aye, there’s more. Plenty, actually, though only a few are touched as your family is,” Theobald shrugged. “Something about the feminine goddess and power passing woman to woman.”

  “Yes, I suppose I could see the powerful magick in that,” Fiona agreed, unsure of where he was going with it all.

  “You’ve made a wish tonight― and a grand one at that. I’m considering granting it― but I’ll have a promise first,” Theobald said, turning to meet her eyes.

  Fiona paused. Making promises to ghosts was a tricky business, and for all she knew it could be dark spirits that were glamouring her at the moment. She decided to proceed with caution.

  “My kin are on a quest of sorts. I only ask that you― or Morgan― assist them on their path.”

  “Define assist,” Fiona said immediately, feeling uncomfortable about making promises on Morgan’s behalf. The girl had just recently grown comfortable with what she was.

  “Ah, blood of my blood, I won’t ask too hearty a boon. I just ask that you find them. Offer some of your knowledge to them― or pass it along through Morgan. They could use some guidance, ’tis all.”

  “What
is the quest they are on? Where do they live? What are their names?”

  Theobald laughed.

  “I like you, Fiona. I’ve always admired strong women. How about this― you’ll be given the information when the time is right. I’ll stop in to visit,” Theobald smiled at her. “Your great uncle coming to call, so to speak. As Grace has moved on to experience earthly pleasures and all.”

  “I knew it,” Fiona breathed. “She’s in Baby Grace, isn’t she?”

  “Leave it to her to pick dying and being reborn at the cove. My mother was a strong woman― a prideful one at that,” Theobald’s features flashed with joy and pride when he spoke of her.

  “I will promise to assist however I can so long as it doesn’t put me in harm’s way― or those I love in harm’s way,” Fiona said sternly, “And I can’t speak for Morgan. It’s unfair of me to promise on behalf of someone who isn’t here.”

  Theobald sized her up and then another smile broke out on his face.

  “Good, that was just a test. I wanted to see if you were strong enough to stand up to me and not throw someone else in the line of fire for your own wants. I’ll be seeing you soon, Fiona O’Brien.” Theobald tipped his head at her and in an instant, he winked out of sight.

  “Did that just really happen, Ronan?”

  Fiona jerked back as the light hovering over the cottage flashed, a thousand times brighter than the sun, illuminating the world around them before it winked out of sight. It should have blinded her, and yet Fiona could still see. She’d thrown her hand up instinctively, but now lowered it to look around.

  Darkness greeted her.

  “Could it be?” Fiona wondered, jumping to her feet― her heart in her throat. She raced down the hill, Ronan at her side, until she reached the front door of the cottage. Pushing the door open, she pounded down the hallway until she stood in front of Aiden’s bedroom door, gasping for breath.

  Fiona reached out and put her hand on the doorknob. She paused, her entire body shaking.

  He’d told her not to come back here until she was sure he was gone. The brilliant flash of light had to have been his soul leaving. Praying she wasn’t making a mistake, Fiona twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “There’s my Fiona― with the pretty smiling eyes,” Aiden― no, not Aiden, but still Aiden, rasped from where he lay on the bed, the soft light of the table lamp shining on him.

  “J…J… John?” Fiona stuttered, rushing forward until she hovered over the bed, afraid to touch Aiden/John, unsure of what to do.

  “You wished,” John said, smiling up at her.

  His eyes had changed. No longer were they Aiden’s eyes, but John’s brilliant blue ones looking back at her from Aiden’s body.

  “John,” Fiona breathed, frozen in place, unable to process the implication of what she was seeing.

  “We switched places, my love. He wanted so desperately to be with Serena and I wanted so desperately to be with you, that we were given this gift. Though it feels a little strange to be in this body, I’m sure I’ll get used to it,” John said affably while Fiona just stared at him, completely in a daze.

  “John,” Fiona breathed again.

  “Well? Are you going to say my name all night, or come over here and give me a kiss then?” A grumpy expression, much like John’s, crossed Aiden’s face and Fiona felt herself go dizzy.

  “I think I’m going to faint,” Fiona said distinctly.

  “We won’t be having any of that,” John said immediately, jumping from bed and catching Fiona as dizziness overtook her. His arms felt strong and real around Fiona and she hoped against hope this wasn’t a crazy whiskey-fueled dream she was having. John laid her gently on the bed.

  “Let’s get you out of this coat,” he said, quickly unzipping the coat and pulling her limp limbs from the sleeves.

  “This sweater is pretty bulky too,” John murmured and proceeded to pull off most of her clothes until she lay on the bed in just a thin shirt and her pants.

  “There, much better,” John said, coming to lie next to her. Fiona felt like she was in shock or in one of her dreams as she watched him prop his head up on an elbow and smile down at her― Aiden’s face with John’s eyes. It was a strangely surreal experience.

  “Am I dreaming?” Fiona finally whispered, lifting her hand out to trace his cheek, but stopping before she actually touched his face.

  “Does this feel like a dream?” John asked, quirking an eyebrow at her before he leaned forward and slid his lips over hers, searing her with his heat, as his love rose up and enveloped her. She knew instantly then that it was really him. Much as she had felt their DNA weave together during their handfasting, she felt him now― in this kiss. Fiona sobbed against his mouth, suddenly ravenous for his kiss, his touch, his nearness. She didn’t know what magick this was― but it didn’t matter, if she got to have John back in her arms.

  “Wait, wait,” Fiona pulled back and searched his eyes― eyes that were burned into her memory and now back in real life again. “If you took Aiden’s body does that mean you also took his cancer?” Fear rose up in her that it would be too late to heal him― that the cancer had advanced too far.

  John smiled at her.

  “They healed him― the angels did― when they brought me in. It’s part of a ritual they do. You wished though― you didn’t believe me at first― but you wished. I watched you wish,” John said, his eyes warm with love.

  “I didn’t know this was possible,” Fiona admitted, “It’s all so crazy to me― so farfetched.”

  “We had a love for all time, Fiona. Through other worlds and back,” John said.

  “Is that why the cove glowed today?” Fiona perked up in excitement.

  “Aye, I was there. I’ve been staying close to Aiden― hoping against hope you would make the wish and that I would be close when Aiden left this world.”

  “Did… did you see him? Is he okay?”

  “Aye, he’s happy as can be. He wanted this gift for you, knew what was coming. It seems he got to meet Grace,” John said, his eyes dancing.

  “Aye! I knew it! I knew Baby Grace had a talk with him,” Fiona punctuated her words with her finger.

  “Aiden said he’ll stop by in your dreams tonight to say a proper goodbye,” John said, pulling Fiona close to him.

  “That’s right kind of him, though I don’t know how I’m going to sleep with you here now! I want to cherish every second,” Fiona exclaimed.

  “We’ve time, my love, plenty of time. I’ve negotiated it myself,” John laughed at her and Fiona gaped at him. “Consider it an― I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long― gift.”

  “That’s the best gift ever,” Fiona said, and soon they no longer talked, losing themselves in the nearness of each other as their love swelled up and surrounded them― everything right in their world once again.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  “You and John keep that Yule log burning― you hear? That’s my gift to you― my blessings for a new year.”

  Aiden stood before her in her dreams. John had been right― she had been able to sleep, once she was cocooned in his arms again. Already the shock of seeing John’s eyes in Aiden’s face was beginning to wear off and he was seeming to look more and more like John by the minute. Though that was probably just her imagination― a way to cope with what had happened to her this night.

  “Aiden― are you with her? Did you get to see your Serena?” Fiona breathed, hoping against hope that he was as happy as she was. Aiden grinned and turned, holding his hand out to someone that she couldn’t see behind him. In a moment, a smiling dark-haired beauty― his Serena, though years younger than she had been― curled into the crook of his arm and wound her arms around his waist.

  “Thank you for taking good care of him― you have been a good friend,” Serena said.

  “Thank you for lending him to me. I think we both needed it. And thank you for the gift of John back,” Fiona whispered. />
  “It’s time for us to go, Fiona. I promised I would check in with you, but I see you’re as right as rain. Sláinte, my good friend, Sláinte.” Aiden mimicked holding up a whiskey glass and saluted her before they faded away.

  Fiona saluted him back, snuggling closer to the warm body pressed at her back, and fell into a peaceful dream-free sleep for the first time in years.

  Epilogue

  “I have to admit, I think this might just be the best Christmas in the history of time,” Fiona observed over the conversations that ranged through the large living room at Flynn’s house. She leaned into John’s side, barely able to stay a few steps away from him over the past few days, and smiled contentedly at the room.

  The few days since the Winter Solstice had been nothing short of miraculous. Fiona had dutifully kept the Yule log burning as she’d promised Aiden, and she and John had spent their time reconnecting over whiskey and the fire. It all felt like a dream to her and one Fiona hadn’t been willing to part with until John had insisted they tell her family what was going on.

  Officially, the story they had shared to the village was that Aiden had decided at the last moment he wanted Fiona to heal him and luckily, she’d been able to do so. The goal would be to somewhat limit John’s interactions with the villagers so things didn’t seem too weird when he didn’t remember the things that Aiden should know. They’d already decided they were going to take a tour of Ireland and all of Europe over the next year, so Fiona wasn’t too worried about people suspecting anything different.

  Her family, however, was much smarter than that. Keelin had shown up at the cottage the day after the Solstice, demanding to help Fiona with Aiden’s remains. Instead, she’d found a very healthy Aiden cozied up to Fiona by the fire. It had taken a moment for Keelin to wrap her head around what had happened― but miraculously she’d taken it in stride. The rest of her girls had followed suit and now they were all spending Christmas together at Flynn’s house.