The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1)

by D. S. Elstad

  I then wondered how he would feel about me going off with Bram. More teasing would be imminent, I was sure. I grabbed a piece of paper and left him a quick note telling him where I was and to call me when he got back to the hotel.

  I pulled the chair back away from the window so I could keep an eye out for Bram’s arrival. I wanted to see him first without him seeing me. And then I did. He came out of the shadows walking on the sidewalk leading to the hotel. He had on jeans and a green t-shirt. He was pulling a hoodie over his head as he walked. He mussed his hair and knocked his sunglasses off in the process. I laughed; it was nice to see him be less than perfect. Within a few short minutes he was knocking on the door.

  After a quick check in the mirror I took in a deep breath and reminded myself, He’s only a boy, nothing so special about that. And I believed it – until I opened the door, that is. There he stood, looking even more special than ever.

  I saluted Hello and motioned for him to come into the room.

  He smiled. “Hello to you too. How’re you doing today?”

  “Very well,” I answered, making sure he could see my mouth. “You?”

  “Good.”

  An awkward silence took over while we both stumbled for something to say. Then Bram recovered nicely. “Sorry if I’m staring…” he spoke, almost in a whisper, “it’s just…you’re very pretty.”

  It attacked again. Only this time there was no hiding it. I reached up and touched my cheek. “You make me blush,” I smiled. “And thank you. You look nice too.”

  He broke out in a laugh and grabbed my hand. “Well, now that we’re through with the mutual admiration, shall we go?”

  “Sure, where to?” I stammered, hoping he’d be able to make out my question.

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” he answered, tapping the tip of my nose.

  We climbed into what appeared to be a brand-new black SUV with plush seats and all the latest gadgets. It even had that new-car smell. “Is this yours?” I asked curiously.

  He shook his head no. “My da’s. He sells cars. This is one of the benefits of having a father who co-owns a car lot. I get to test drive all the new rides, er, cars, I mean.”

  I snuggled back into the rich upholstery and became fascinated by the control panel. A NASA spaceship probably didn’t have all the knobs and dials that this thing did. Bram hooked up his iPod to the dash and turned up the volume. It was classical, but I couldn’t tell you who. I liked classical music but was anything but schooled in the genre.

  “Too loud?” he questioned with raised eyebrows.

  Without lifting my head from the rich brown leather seat I shook my head no. Bram laughed again. Apparently I amused him; he seemed to laugh at me a lot.

  I reached up to my neck and began gently fingering the Triquetra necklace. I made a point of wearing it every day since the day Dad gave it to me. I reminded myself to later ask Bram more about the symbol.

  I couldn’t believe how relaxed I was feeling. It was the first time since arriving in Ireland that I felt this comfortable. I wasn’t sure if it was the luxurious seats, the ridiculously gorgeous car, or the ridiculously gorgeous driver. At any rate, I was thoroughly enjoying the drive and not terribly concerned about where we were going.

  The scenery outside the ostentatious transportation was even more breathtaking. As we headed beyond the city limits, the rural countryside quickly took over: rolling green hills were littered with cottages and grazing animals. This was the Ireland I had imagined. And, most importantly, this was the first time I wasn’t interpreting dreams or racking my brain for explanations for bizarre events that came right out of the Twilight Zone. I was completely and utterly relaxed. Being with Bram was like being at home in my most comfy clothes.

  I looked over at him and watched while he paid close attention to the road, checking his side and rear view mirrors, then the speedometer. He was a very conscientious and careful driver. Dad would be impressed.

  After about half an hour we took a turn onto a gravel road. The foliage was overgrown and had practically regained possession of the path. I worried that the car might get scratched from all the branches reaching out to touch it, but Bram didn’t seem too concerned. Three crazy hairpin turns later we left that jungle and pulled into an incredible manicured driveway with giant cone-shaped evergreen trees that reached at least fifteen feet into the sky.

  The driveway curved and obscured the view from what might be waiting at the end. But after a sharp left turn, it opened up to a stadium-sized parking lot. Behind it, sat the most amazing castle I’d ever seen – well, the only castle I’d ever seen, up close, that is. I stared, mesmerized by the sheer size of the ancient structure. It was so massive both ways, in height and width. The doorway, which was probably about twenty feet away from where we sat, looked infinitesimal in comparison to the stone walls that enveloped it. Bram was out and opening my door before I knew it.

  “Well?” he asked, forehead wrinkled in anticipation.

  “Wow, this…is…incredible!” I mouthed slowly for his sake and out of sheer amazement at my surroundings.

  He grinned and held out his hand. I quickly grabbed hold and we walked to the entrance. The door was ajar and I could hear voices echoing from inside. We stepped in slowly and became a part of a large group of tourists getting ready to set off on a guided tour of the castle.

  Bram leaned in close. “Do you want to do a tour, or would you rather I just show you about?”

  I glanced over at the twenty-plus group and listened for a second to a mix of languages, from German to French to Chinese or something close to it. The thought of having to share this with a group left me with the one, very obvious choice.

  “You show me about…please,” I whispered as I tapped his chest with my finger.

  Bram grabbed my hand, and led me to the reception desk where he paid for our entrance and grabbed a brochure describing the castle, along with a map of the grounds. We found our way to a large staircase where Bram explained, in amazing detail, the history of not only the castle, but of Ireland. We went from room to room, his voice resonating within the granite walls.

  “This particular castle belonged to the McGarry family, who built it back in 1453. Up until 1879 it remained in that family. Then it was turned over to the Lutz family after the McGarry’s were unable to pay off a debt. That family had it only about ten years when the owner, Sir Juhon Dawnes, drowned after falling into Lake Iris. The County took control of it and made it into the home for Clary’s Governor. In 1980, the powers that be didn’t feel that the local registry ought to be living in a castle – gave the wrong impression, ya know – so they turned it over to the Preservation Society who made it into the museum you see today.” His voice was confident and strong. I couldn’t help but be impressed with the fact he knew so much about the castle.

  At this point we had made our way out to the gardens. Bram spotted a bench nestled among various shrubs and bushes and suggested we sit. The setting was gorgeous… breathtaking, not only its beauty but its history as well.

  “The plant life here is quite old. Some of these shrubs date back a hundred years or more.” Bram passed his hand over the tops of the nearby bushes.

  The sun was just beginning to give way to a massive cluster of clouds, but continued highlighting the spot we sat, illuminating the crimson berries still clinging to the branches. Bram reached back and bent the stem of the berry-laden shrub, severing its ties to the hundred-year-old bush then handed it to me. I drank in the aroma, surprised that the small berries could smell so heavenly.

  “Bram, is this Ross Castle?” I wondered. Dad had mentioned that he would show me Ross Castle, a popular tourist site.

  “No, this is Brigham Castle. Ross is in Killarney National Park. I thought you may enjoy this one since it’s a bit less recognized, not as many folks come here to visit. I prefer coming here instead of Ross because of its history.”

  “Can I ask you something?” I said slowly, staring into his eyes.r />
  “Sure, anything,” he answered.

  “Your name…Bram. It’s so different. Is it short for something?”

  Bram smiled and nodded. “Well, yes and no. My da’s favorite author is Bram Stoker…you know who that is, right?”

  I thought for a minute then remembered where I’d seen the name before. “Yes.” I raised my hands in an oogey-boogey move. “Count Dracula,” I answered, doing my best vampire imitation.

  Bram laughed. “Right, Count Dracula, definitely one of his most famous works. Da wanted to name me after him. Although his full name is Abraham Stoker, Da and Mum decided to just go with Bram.”

  A soft breeze began to pick up as he spoke, gently tousling his hair. His russet eyes shifted back and forth between me and the environment, like he needed to be aware at all times of his surroundings. I wondered if that was part of his deafness.

  “Tell me more about this castle,” I motioned back to the historic building towering behind us.

  “When Sir Juhon took over the castle, he lived alone in it for a few years. People didn’t know if he was dead or alive; months would go by without anyone seeing him. Once, after he’d been away, he reappeared with a wife, Mauve. Took her into town and introduced her to everyone. There’s an article about it in the old Clary town newspaper. She became a big part of the community and formed a botanical society that was responsible for the preservation of many of the native plants. People loved her; she’d open the castle on holidays and invite everyone in.

  “Then one summer, Juhon went away again and Mauve stayed to coordinate a celebration they were having for the town’s reverend and his family. The story says that she went over to Ross Castle to extend an invite to the Donohue’s, who lived there at the time. While she was there, Ellie Donohue persuaded her to take a walk into the woods to see a new variety of holly. That was the last anyone saw of her. Her buggy had been parked and footprints were visible for a good ten kilometers into the park, then just stopped.” Bram turned to face me squarely. “Legend is, she was taken by the forest people.” He squinted his eyes, “The wee people, you know?”

  I frowned and pursed my lips. “What are you saying, leprechauns?” I asked with a smirk.

  Bram leaned closer, looked over his shoulder, then back to me, and whispered. “You don’t believe in leprechauns?” he asked, feigning astonishment.

  I sneered and drew closer to his face. “No, I don’t.”

  Bram laughed and ran his hand through his hair. “Smart girl. Anyway, truth of the matter, Mauve just disappeared, so you can imagine the stories that surfaced after that.”

  “They never found her?” I mouthed my words carefully.

  “No, not a trace. When Juhon returned, he searched the woods day and night. He took out hounds and hired local lads; even offered a huge reward for anyone having any information, but nothing panned out. And the weirdest part is that exactly one year to the day that Mauve went missing, Juhon, who was out walking – searching for her still, I’m sure – fell off of Carney Cliff and drowned. At least that’s what they assumed after his body washed up on shore.”

  I suddenly felt a cold chill run down my spine. I looked around feeling like I might catch sight of Mauve’s and Juhon’s ghosts.

  “You ok?” Bram asked.

  “Yeah, that was quite a story. I love a good ghost story,” I remarked. But Bram didn’t pick up on what I said. He looked in his pocket for his tablet, then hit himself on the head. “I forgot my notebook.”

  I reached into my pocket for a piece of paper then felt my phone. A light bulb moment...I held it up.

  “You have your cell?”

  He pulled it out of his pocket.

  I began texting to him. Thank goodness for modern technology, I thought. After a short conversation about the spirits of Brigham Castle we decided to walk around the grounds before the sky opened up.

  We followed a narrow footpath that led straight into the woods. It was crazy how one second everything was so trimmed and manicured and the next minute, we were surrounded by a dense forest, thick with trees and overgrown with all kinds of foliage. The sky became darker still as we descended into the woods. The path was becoming less visible, eaten away by the forest floor. A few feet ahead of us sat a large boulder and running alongside it was a little brook. We climbed on top of the boulder and sat watching the brook.

  “Do you come here a lot?” I texted.

  Bram laughed, “Are you trying to pick me up, Lass?” he answered in his warm Irish accent.

  I cracked up, couldn’t believe I’d said that.

  “Seriously, you sure know your way around here, and everything there is to know about the place, so you must come here a lot.” I said both in voice and text.

  “Aye, I used to interpret for deaf tour groups. Not as much now, busy with school and such.”

  I found myself getting very lost in his eyes as he spoke. It was amazing to me that here he was, deaf, speaking perfectly and making me feel so comfortable. As we talked I realized that I had never felt like this about any other guy.

  We sat chatting, texting, and laughing for about an hour. Then he reached over and pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Our eyes locked and I felt his warm hands cover mine. Just then I got a phone call from Dad asking where I was.

  “It’s my dad, I’d better get back.”

  “Ok,” he agreed holding his stare for a few more moments, capturing me with those eyes.

  We jumped off the boulder and were beginning our trek back when I had the strange sense of being watched. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of something shooting into the darkest part of the forest.

  “What the –” Bram mumbled, looking towards the movement.

  I turned to him as he began to give chase after the phantom. Jumping over the small brook, he slipped on some moss-covered rocks and fell.

  “Ah, blast, it got away.” He pulled himself up, brushing the forest floor away from his jeans. “What was that?” he asked, searching my eyes.

  I shrugged. “I’ve seen something like it twice before.” I slowly spoke, holding up two fingers.

  His eyes narrowed as he tilted his head, “You’ve seen that before?”

  “Yes, twice.” I answered, believing it was the same thing.

  He shot a look back into the woods, almost as if he was thinking about going after it, whatever it was. But the droplets of rain made him think otherwise.

  “I best get you back,” his voice cracked as he took hold of my hand and headed down the path. We made our way back to the car, just in time – the downpour ensued right after we closed our doors. He sat stationary except for running his fingers through his hair, releasing the few droplets that still clung to the earth colored strands.

  I grabbed my phone. “What are you thinking?” I quickly texted.

  He bit his lower lip then turned to face me. “Just wondering what that was. You say you’ve seen it twice before?”

  I nodded then looked back towards the castle and the distant pathway where we’d seen the phantom movement. A chill ran over me and I shivered at the thought of whatever that might have been. Bram was still staring at me and noticed I was trembling.

  “You cold?” he asked as he started the car, and then turned on the heat. I held my hands up to the vent and let the warmth wash over my fingers. Quickly the chill passed as we made our way back onto the road.

  Booming claps of thunder followed us all the way back to Killarney with the skies opening up to sheets of rain. The windshield wipers were unable to keep a clear view for more than a split second. Bram opened his window, sticking his head out to make sure the way was clear. By the time we reached the hotel, the worst of the storm was over.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bram walked me back to the hotel room where I introduced him to Dad, who surprised the heck out of me when he began using sign language.

  “Dad! How do you know how to sign?”

  “I don’t know a lot, just some finger spelli
ng and a few signs. Your mom knows more than I do.”

  “How…why? When did you learn how to sign?” Just when I thought I knew almost everything about my parents.

  “Mom’s friend Penny is deaf. She taught me when she came and stayed with us after you were born. She lived with us for a couple of months before she moved to Alaska so I had plenty of practice then. I’m kinda rusty now.” Dad continued signing to Bram while he spoke to me.

  I watched as the two worked at non-verbal communication. Bram would take Dad’s hand and shape it into a sign and Dad would nod, realizing he hadn’t been doing it quite right.

  “Irish Sign Language is a bit different from American Sign Language,” Dad explained. “Bram is showing me the variations in the alphabet.”

  I felt so proud of Dad; he was really making an effort with Bram. I’d never seen him do that with any of my friends before. Of course, at home, we aren’t usually hanging out with Dad. They wouldn’t even see him most of the time. Watching him now made me feel a special closeness that I hadn’t felt in years.

  “Does that sound good, Willow?” Dad asked as he put on a jacket.

  “Huh? Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”

  “I’ve invited Bram to go to dinner with us. He wants to go change out of his wet clothes, then he’ll come back and join us; sound good?” Dad smiled and winked.

  I frowned at Dad but then quickly shot Bram a smile. He raised his eyebrows as if to ask if everything was cool. I just smiled and nodded. I walked him to the elevator and came back to the room only to see Dad sitting there with a big goofy grin on his face.

  “Really?” I asked, “Is that necessary?”

  “Whhhhhaaaaatttttt?” he teased, moving toward me with his arms extended.

  “Back off, Dad,” I ordered.

  He laughed and grabbed hold, tickling my ribs and lifting me off my feet. “Ah, my little Willy got herself an Irish lad.” He swung me from side to side cackling like an old lady.

  I stiffened until he let go. “That’s quite enough, mister,” I ordered again but he just kept laughing.