‘Did you want something to drink?’ Kiva asked as she pulled out one of the stools at the kitchen counter for him. ‘Something to eat, maybe? There’s some left-overs in the fridge, I think.’
‘Thanks … Mum,’ he replied uncomfortably, taking the seat she offered, ‘but really, I’m fine.’
Kiva looked disappointed. Darragh realised she wasn’t asking because she was concerned he was dehydrating or starving, she just needed something to keep her occupied.
Poor woman, he thought. She has no idea how to cope with any of this. And I can’t tell her the truth. She’s not equipped in any way to deal with the concept of alternate realities, magic, or her adopted son having an identical twin.
Kiva sat opposite him, smiling nervously. She was dressed in a silk dressing gown, her hair unbrushed and dishevelled. She must have been sleeping when he sneaked into the house. Darragh cursed his own foolish curiosity, knowing Ciarán would be furious at him for being so careless. And extracting himself from this awkwardness was going to be … difficult.
‘So …’ Kiva began with a forced smile. ‘Where have you been, all this time?’
Darragh shrugged. ‘Here and there.’
She nodded. ‘Murray said not to press you for details, but —’
‘Murray? You mean Doctor Symes?’ Darragh asked, the name provoking an overwhelming feeling of dislike — a feeling he had acquired from his brother, he realised.
‘He said you’d come back. Even when everyone thought you were dead and only I refused to believe it, he was on my side. He said you’d come back, and that when you did, the most important thing to do was listen to you.’ She smiled so sympathetically, Darragh was quite sure she was acting. ‘So here I am, sweetheart. Ready to listen.’
It was only a few paces to the door, Darragh calculated, but if he ran now — assuming his ankle would bear the strain — Kiva would be straight on the phone to the authorities and he’d be lucky if he made it back to Jack’s place before all the Gardaí in Dublin descended upon him.
On the other hand, Kiva clearly wanted to help her son — or at least the young man she believed to be her son. It might be safer here than at Jack’s, if she was prepared to shelter him and Sorcha until they could find a way home to their own reality.
‘What did you want to know?’ he asked, stalling for time while he tried to figure a way out of this messy situation.
‘I just want you to talk to me, Ren,’ she said, leaning across the counter to take him by the hands. ‘Tell me what happened. I can help you, darling. We’ll get you the best lawyers in Europe. Murray will testify you have problems. Even if we can’t get you acquitted outright, he says we could have you treated in a private mental hospital and you’d be out in a matter of months.’
She was squeezing his hands as she spoke. Any minute now, Darragh knew, she would glance down and spy the tattoo on his right palm that should have been on the left, and there wouldn’t be any answer he could offer that would satisfy her.
‘A couple of months?’ he repeated, trying to sound interested in the prospect.
‘Of course,’ Kiva added carefully, ‘you’d have to tell us where you took Hayley, so we can bring her home.’
‘You wouldn’t believe me,’ Darragh told her honestly.
‘She’s safe then?’ Ren’s mother asked. It was clear she was worried for her chauffeur’s daughter. She was family, after all. Hayley’s stepmother was Kiva’s cousin. Darragh was beginning to understand Rónán’s conflicted feelings for this woman. Somehow she could be both magnanimous and self-centred at the same time.
‘Of course she’s safe. Ro —’ He caught himself just in time, as he reminded himself Kiva had no idea the young man sitting in her kitchen wasn’t her son, Ren. If Darragh started referring to his brother in the third person — and by a different name — he’d seem even crazier than she already feared he was. ‘I would never hurt her. She’s … my best friend.’ Rónán’s memories were quite clear on that point. But vague assurances of Hayley’s wellbeing weren’t going to satisfy Kiva for long. His safety, Darragh suspected, and Kiva’s willingness to protect him from the forces arrayed against his brother, were dependent on her believing he was going to divulge Hayley’s whereabouts any minute now. Or at the very least, ensure her safe return.
He smiled at Kiva, Rónán’s memories supplying the words he needed to keep Kiva onside. ‘You know I love you, Mum,’ he said, mindful of her desperate need to have that sentiment reinforced at every opportunity. Rónán had rebelled at offering her such assurances, out of little more than pig-headed resentment, as far as Darragh could tell. But he had no need to rebel against Kiva. Quite the opposite. He needed her. She was vulnerable so he suspected it would take remarkably little to secure her aid. ‘Truly. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, Mum. Especially you.’
‘I know that, sweetie,’ she said, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. ‘But we need to know what you’ve done with Hayley …’
‘She’s safe, Mum, I promise,’ he repeated.
‘Why did you come back for her?’
That was an easy question to answer. He could answer that as if he was Rónán without even stopping to think about it. ‘When I heard she was blinded in the accident, I figured it was my fault.’
‘So you kidnapped her?’
‘I didn’t kidnap her. I helped her get to some people who could help her get better, that’s all. Just like you did.’
Kiva wiped her eyes, looking at Darragh in confusion. ‘Like I did?’
He nodded, recalling how Rónán had found Hayley at St Christopher’s when they arrived in this reality. Trása had found a story about Kiva and her chauffeur’s daughter in a magazine at Warren’s house. ‘I read what you did. In the OK Magazine story with the image of you and Hayley taken at the hospital. They wrote you were covering the cost of all her treatment and her rehabilitation, and I thought, well … if my mother is willing to do so much to help Hayley, then so should I.’
‘Then you weren’t trying to silence her?’ Kiva said, as if Darragh’s story — despite sounding vaguely ludicrous to him — reinforced what she wanted to believe. Interesting that she used the word ‘silence’. The authorities here must believe Rónán had kidnapped his friend because she knew something about the drug deal and murder he was accused of being involved in. The one Trása and that damned Leipreachán, Plunkett O’Bannon, had so effectively staged to frame his brother, in the hope that a sentence of life imprisonment would prevent his return to the reality where he belonged.
‘Of course not!’ he said, looking wounded on his brother’s behalf. ‘How could you think such a thing, Mum? I love Hayley like she’s my own sister.’
‘But where have you been, Ren?’ Kiva asked, shaking her head. Darragh figured she desperately wanted to believe her son, but he’d vanished for the better part of a month. She wanted something plausible to explain his absence. If she had that, then she might believe the rest of his tale. ‘You’ve been gone for weeks.’
‘O’Hara’s men kidnapped me,’ he said, telling her what she probably believed, rather than the truth. ‘It took me this long to escape.’
Kiva’s hand flew to her mouth as she gasped in horror.
‘I had nothing to do with the deal he had in the warehouse that burned down,’ Darragh added hastily, making sure he established Rónán’s innocence from the outset. ‘But his men were just like the cops. They couldn’t believe it was just a coincidence I happened to be there that day. They wanted to find out what I knew.’
‘Oh, my God, Ren … did they hurt you?’
‘I … I’d rather not talk about it,’ Darragh said, looking away. He was at a loss, not sure how much longer he could keep this charade up. Kiva seemed like a nice person. He didn’t want to mislead her, but he could see no way of telling her the truth.
Before he could say another word, however, she had jumped to her feet and hurried to his side to embrace him. ‘It’s okay now, baby,’ she said, holding him tight
. ‘Try not to think about it. We’ll get you through this, honey, I promise. We’ll get the best help. Murray will be there for you. We’ll get you all the assistance and care and the treatment you need. Don’t think about what they did to you, darling. Be brave.’
Darragh wasn’t sure what she was imagining had been done to him, but he did nothing to correct her assumptions. He wasn’t sure there was anything he could do to change her mind. She was an actress, after all. She thrived on drama. So he simply hugged her back and let her gush about how she would make everything better — Hayley apparently forgotten — wondering how he would get out of this mess.
CHAPTER 20
For the second night in a row, Ren spent the night with Trása curled into the crook of his arm. He hadn’t realised she’d spent the night there until he woke the next morning to find a warm black ball of fur snuggled up next to him. He smiled at the sight of her, amused that in human form she professed disdain and irritation for him and yet in feline form — where disdain and irritation seemed much more likely sentiments — she apparently found him more than acceptable company.
He stroked her gently, fascinated by her feline eagerness to be petted, until her human awareness kicked in and she realised what she was doing. At that point, the cat jumped off the bed and turned to glare at him, transforming into the half-Faerie half-human girl she was meant to be.
‘Just you watch where you’re putting those hands, boyo,’ she sniffed, snatching up the blanket from the bed to cover her nakedness. Ren was sure she was neither self-conscious nor shy about her nudity. She just didn’t want him getting an eyeful. Had he been Darragh, Ren suspected — with the benefit of his brother’s memories — Trása wouldn’t have minded a bit.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, pulling his knees up to his chin, grinning. ‘You looked like you were enjoying it.’
‘It’s the height of bad manners to take advantage of someone when they’re in animal form.’
‘Is it?’ he asked. ‘Gee, I must have missed that lesson. In my reality, they concentrate more on boring stuff, like … you know, mathematics and science … that sort of thing. Can’t imagine what they were thinking at that expensive private school my mother sent me to, leaving transmogrification off the curriculum.’
‘It’s rude to poke fun at people, too,’ she said, glaring at him.
Ren smiled. Trása looked genuinely annoyed. She couldn’t see the absurdity of what she was saying which made this whole bizarre world even more ridiculous.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘So you should be.’
He glanced up at the high, narrow window above the door. The very first rays of dawn had already lightened the sky. It wouldn’t be long before the whole compound was awake. Trása needed to be gone by then. One suspected Youkai was enough for the Ikushima to handle. He wasn’t sure what they would do if they discovered they had a real Faerie to contend with.
‘Will you go back to Tír Na nÓg?’ he asked.
Trása shook her head. ‘I need to catch me a Leipreachán first,’ she said. ‘Now I know where to find you, I’ll head to Breaga. There’s always Leipreachán around there. At least there is in my realm.’ Then she frowned, and added, ‘Shit.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I lost the trap I built. And the bait.’
‘What do you bait a Leipreachán trap with?’ he asked. Although Ren knew he wasn’t dreaming, when discussing things like Leipreachán traps it was hard not to wonder if the entire conversation was really the result of taking something mind-altering. He was half-expecting to wake any moment on the couch in the psychiatrist’s office, Murray Symes leaning over him, notebook in hand, hoping to learn something useful from his disturbed patient’s chemically induced hallucinations.
‘Bacon, of course,’ Trása told him, exasperated that she had to explain something so obvious. ‘Can you get me some from the kitchens?’
He shrugged. ‘I suppose. What about the trap?’
‘That’s actually the easy part,’ she said, looking thoughtful. ‘I’ll have to build another one when I get to Breaga, though.’ She stopped for a moment and then threw her hands up in frustration. ‘I just don’t understand why I need to. I mean … why aren’t there any Daoine sídhe around here?’
‘According to the people here, the Empresses had them all killed.’
‘I know,’ she said, frowning. ‘You told me that yesterday. But I don’t see how they could kill them all. Or imagine a reason why they’d want to. I mean … they obviously use magic in this realm. Why destroy the people who know most about it?’
‘Maybe they wanted to destroy the competition?’ Ren asked with a shrug, wondering what he was supposed to have learned since their discussion yesterday that warranted asking the question again. ‘I don’t know.’
Trása pursed her lips and studied Ren for a moment. ‘I think you need to find out. It may affect our ability to get home.’
‘Why don’t you ask your pet Leipreachán when you catch him?’ Ren suggested. ‘I’m not exactly the flavour of the month around here after the other night. They probably won’t tell me anything. I’m half expecting them to send me back to the Tanabe in chains with a written apology for all the trouble I’ve caused pinned to my yukata.’
‘I doubt that,’ she said. ‘You and Madam Oopsy-Daisy seemed pretty friendly to me.’
‘Her name is pronounced Ow-ee,’ Ren said. ‘And I’m pretty sure she was just being polite.’
‘Whatever,’ Trása said, as if she was tired of discussing it. She glanced over her shoulder at the window and the rapidly brightening day. ‘I need to get going. I’ve wasted enough time here. There’s something decidedly off about this world. I intend to find a way home and be gone from here as soon as possible. You coming, or staying?’
‘I don’t think they’ll let me just walk out of the compound,’ Ren told her. ‘I can’t change into a bird and fly away like you can, you know.’
‘Then how did you get away from the Tanabe?’
Ren had avoided answering the question so far, whenever Trása asked. He wasn’t sure if she would let the subject drop quite so easily this morning. He shifted on the futon, crossing his legs as he said with a shrug, ‘They were slack. I saw an opportunity and I took it.’
Trása eyed him curiously. ‘You’re lying.’
‘Why would I lie?’ he asked, looking at her with what he hoped was wide-eyed innocence.
‘Because you don’t want me to know the answer, that’s why,’ she said, sounding puzzled rather than offended. ‘And you know what? I don’t care. Just get me some bacon and I’ll be on my way. Maybe, when I found out how to get out of this crazy place, I’ll come back and let you know. Or maybe I won’t.’
‘Yeah,’ Ren said with utter certainty. ‘You’ll come back.’
Trása didn’t get a chance to answer. Someone knocked politely on the door. Before Ren could react, Trása was back in feline form, disinterestedly washing her face with her white-tipped paw, where only a moment before she’d been standing there, arguing with him.
‘Come in.’
The door slid open to reveal Aoi standing on the veranda, dressed less formally than she had been the night of the Tanabe attack. Now she wore a simple white yukata which Ren still thought of as little more than a glorified dressing gown.
‘Good morning, Renkavana,’ she said with a low bow. She glanced at Trása and frowned. ‘I didn’t realise you came with a pet.’
‘I didn’t,’ Ren said, giving Trása a gentle push with his foot to hurry her out the door. ‘It’s a stray. Wandered in here the other night like it owned the place. I didn’t have the heart to kick it out.’
Aoi seemed to accept his explanation and paid Trása no more attention. Trása took the opportunity to slip past Aoi and escape the hut. Hopefully, the next time Ren saw her, she would have some news about getting out of this crazy realm.
‘My brother asked me to escort you to him,’ she told Ren. ‘He wishes to discuss your
future plans.’
That’d be nice if I had any future plans, Ren thought, other than getting the hell outta here. ‘Okay. Lead me to him.’
‘He is waiting for you in the drying yard,’ Aoi explained, taking a step to one side to allow Ren to exit ahead of her.
Ren wasn’t sure if the drying yard was meant to have any special significance, and figured it would be impolite to ask. He’d been all but ignored by his hosts since his ill-advised rescue the other night. His meals had been delivered to the hut, and nobody had spoken to him. He wasn’t sure if he was a guest or a prisoner. The request to discuss his future plans made him hope his status was that of a guest.
He followed Aoi through the compound toward the high brick wall that separated the fireworks factory from the residential areas. The daylight increased with every step. The wall was a wise precaution, given the explosive nature of the work that went on in the factory, but it was too close to the houses of Shin Bungo for safety, Ren thought. He looked around for Trása but couldn’t see any sign of her, or a black and white cat. Perhaps she’d left for Breaga already, to take up her search for a Leipreachán. He hoped that when she caught one, he’d be able to explain what the hell was going on in this world.
Aoi made no attempt at small talk. Ren couldn’t read her well enough to tell if she was angry or had nothing to say. When they reached the brick wall, she waved her hand at one of the guards on duty, who hurried to push the big, brass-studded gate open for them.
The smell hit Ren as soon as he stepped through the gate. It was an odd mixture of cordite and wet paper. This was the part of the factory Ren hadn’t toured yet. Before him stretched a vast sea of low tables covered in paper balls. That’s what they seemed to be at first glance, but he realised that these were the paper shells used to contain the fireworks for which the Ikushima were so famous. There were thousands of the thick brown paper shells on the tables, ranging from golf ball to basketball size. The reason the fireworks factory was located so close to a forest harvested for paper became apparent. And the reason they must be at war with the Tanabe. The kozo trees the Tanabe harvested for their magical origami paper must be the same as the paper the Ikushima used for their fireworks.
The Dark Divide Page 15
