by D. S. Elstad
“Aaron, one more thing…” I began.
Aaron sat down across from me. “Shoot,” he replied.
“Cyril…and my dad. How do you explain that? He was the spitting image of my father and the other strange thing was, as we stood there watching them plan to take the Eye, Carissa and Corman looked familiar to me as well. I felt sure I’d seen them before, somewhere.” I rubbed the side of my head in an effort to jar something that might help me remember where I recognized them from.”
“They did look familiar, Da,” Bram added.
Aaron stood and began pacing, then opened one of his folders and spread the pages out on the table. After a couple of minutes he grabbed a sheet.
“Ah ha, I knew I’d read something in all of this that mentioned what you’re talking about. It says here that the Fomorians are so hungry for an earthly existence that they will take on the characteristics of a human who had died.” Aaron raised his face and looked into my eyes. “The only way they’re able to take on those characteristics is by ending the human’s life.”
I frowned, unclear of what Aaron was saying. “But… Cyril didn’t kill my Dad,” I responded, hesitantly.
“No, no, he didn’t, but it must have been him who killed your uncle, Jack’s twin brother, Joseph.”
I shook my head no. “But Aaron, Joseph was only six years old and died after he fell into the lake and was dragged off by something… not someone.”
Aaron took off his glasses and furrowed his brow. “Cyril most likely was in animal form at that time. The Fomorians go through a type of reincarnation, transforming themselves from one being to another until they reach their ultimate human form. Since Cyril was the Fomorian who ended Joseph’s life that day, he basically was able to steal his DNA and become a kind of replicate of Joseph, at any age. He took on his adult characteristics, which just so happened to be exactly the same as your father’s.”
I bit my lip in understanding. It made sense. Dad and Joseph were identical twins.
“That explains Willow’s Dad; but what about Carissa? She looked really familiar too,” Bram asked.
Aaron once again went to his stack of folders and pulled out the one that had copies of photos and drawings of past guardians. He handed a stack to me and one to Bram. “Join us here, Quinn,” he said as he held another stack in the air for Quinn to look over.
We shuffled through our respective piles of portraits when Quinn suddenly stopped. “Blimey, I’d recognize that face anywhere, after the way she tossed me around,” he said, tapping Bram on the arm. Bram nodded his head and looked at me. Quinn turned the picture to face me. It was an extremely old photograph from the late 1800’s. The woman in the portrait was an exact match to Carissa.
Aaron took hold of the photocopied picture and went to the safe. He opened it and carefully flipped through the stack of portraits. When he came to the original photo he flipped it over.
“Well, I’ll be…” he exclaimed.
“What is it?” Quinn and I asked at the same time.
He returned to where we sat at the table and laid the picture down in front of us. “This is Agnes ó Cuilinn, Lucy’s great grandmother. Lucy said she died of a heart condition.”
“A heart condition… well, we know what brought that on, don’t we,” said Bram as he held the picture up.
“So then Carissa was the one to do away with Lucy’s great grandmother and absorb her DNA. They each had taken on the traits of whoever they killed; no wonder they all looked familiar. Except the knight. We never did get a look at his face,” Quinn said, handing the picture back to Aaron.
Aaron picked up all the paperwork and returned it to the safe before joining us at the table. “So you see, the odds of the Fomorians coming back anytime soon aren’t very good. They literally have to start all over, first drawing enough energy to raise Carissa in creature form, then finding a human for her. The whole process would take…I don’t even want to venture a guess on how long. Let’s just say, it would take a very long time.”
I rested my head on Bram’s shoulder and pulled Grandma’s old map out of my pocket. I held it out in front of myself, lost in random thoughts, while Quinn, Aaron, and Bram spoke more about what we had accomplished and what might lie ahead.
Bram grabbed hold of my hand and looked at the map. “What’s this?” he asked.
I explained to him where I found the map and Uncle Eagan’s translation of aisling. Aaron looked over. “May I?”
I handed him the map.
“Eagan said the spot circled is the same area where I was lost…the first night I changed.” I pointed out the area on the map.
“It certainly is, and I’d venture to guess it’s the same area where Shannah first changed seeing as how she referred to it as the forest of her aisling, meaning her dreams. Just like you.” Aaron handed me the map and smiled. “Rather a nice memento of your grandma, yes?”
“Very nice,” I answered and carefully folded up the map, tucking it safely in my shirt pocket next to the Triquetra hanging around my neck.
The three continued talking so I laid my head on Bram’s shoulder again and closed my eyes, losing myself in the rhythm of their words, and feeling safe…and happy to be surrounded by my Irish family.
Standing on the balcony of our hotel room, I stared up into the cloudy skies and flashed rapidly on so many things, my mind felt like a movie that had gone out of control. I shook my head and returned to our room, staring at the last few pieces of clothing I needed to pack. I threw them in the bag and sat on top of the suitcase in order to clamp it shut and lock it. I threw my phone on top of the luggage and then grabbed my backpack shoving in the map that I’d found in Grandpa’s basement. I’d yet to share it with Dad and thought I’d show it to him on the long flight home.
We’d gone to the small funeral that Eagan had arranged for Grandpa and then to the cemetery to watch him be lowered into the ground next to Grandma. I had no tears. In fact, I felt little emotion; I was almost numb. The whole thing seemed so surreal. Two funerals within days of each other. Two complete strangers who suddenly became as much a part of my life as anyone I’d ever known. But there I stood, in the cool, early morning dampness, saying good-bye to Shannah and Conor, the grandparents I’d always wondered about.
My other good-byes were said the night before at the dinner we had with Quinn and Kelleigh’s parents, along with Uncle Eagan, Bram, and Aaron. It was an awesome evening filled with delicious food, wonderful Irish music, and the best company anyone could ever ask for. Uncle Eagan entertained us all with stories from his and Grandpa’s childhood, and teased his son John unmercifully about Dad being his real son.
My favorite part of the evening was when Eagan and Kelleigh took to the piano and played Irish ballads, singing and shouting out the words for us to join along. Bram grabbed my hand at one point, led me near the piano where he could feel the vibration from it on the floor, and spun me around, dancing to the lighthearted tunes. It felt fantastic to be involved in such a happy and natural event after all the drama and chaos of the days before.
I looked around the small hotel room that had been home to so many emotions and happenings that they all seemed much too big for such a small space. I grabbed my phone and stepped back out onto the balcony, and watched in awe as the sun broke through the clouds, creating beams of light that made the sky look like a Michelangelo painting.
I quickly took a picture with my phone, then looked at the last message I’d received. It was from a few days ago, from my friend Leah, wondering when I was coming home. I smiled at the thought of seeing my friends again. I scrolled down to past messages and came across a few of Bram’s. Funny how we’d gotten to the point where we didn’t even need to text anymore. Our relationship grew so fast and felt so right; I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it.
We’d said good-bye the previous night after he drove me back to the hotel. We spent two hours sitting in the car talking before we finally made our way to the room. Bram stopped the
elevator between floors and pulled me near, kissing me tenderly. He wrapped his arms around me in such a way that I wished I never had to open the doors of that elevator. My heart was pained at the thought of saying good-bye. I let myself collapse in his arms and took comfort once again in the rhythmic beating of his heart. He stroked my hair, then pulled away holding me at arm’s length.
“Willow, I know this is probably crazy, seeing as how we’ve only known each other a few weeks, but…”
I stared into his eyes and felt my heart skip a beat in anticipation of his words.
“But?” I repeated.
He looked down to the ground then pulled me closer again and let out a slight breath.
“Ah hell, I’m just gonna say it…” he whispered. “Willow…I love you.”
Our eyes locked for an immeasurable amount of time. I lost myself in the deep tones of his eyes and the echo of his words. I reached up and stroked his cheek.
“I love you too,” I replied, surprised at how easy it came out.
He smiled broadly and grabbed hold of me, raising me in the air and spinning me around. He started to lose his balance and crashed us both into the side wall, pressing in all the buttons of the elevator. We started laughing and regained our balance, then made our way to the room. A dozen more kisses and hugs, then we let go, both feeling confident in our relationship.
I stood there on the balcony, smiling in remembrance of our time in the elevator, when a car horn brought me back to the present. I looked out to the parking lot and saw the familiar little blue VW, an arm reaching out and waving. I rushed out of the room yelling a quick be right back to Dad and pushed open the hotel lobby doors.
Bram ran up to greet me, his hair all disheveled, looking like he just rolled out of bed. He grabbed hold of me then hugged and kissed me again. “I had to come see you off. I couldn’t just let you leave without seeing you again,” he said breathlessly.
“I’m so glad you did,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck.
The hotel lobby door opened and Dad stepped out, rolling a luggage cart piled with our bags.
“Good morning, Bram,” he signed then nodded at me. “Sorry to break this up, but it’s time to leave.”
I frowned and turned to Bram. “I’ll send you a message when I get home,” I said in mindspeak.
“You better,” he teased, then walked me to the car. We hugged again and he shook hands with Dad.
I climbed into the rental car and rolled my window down, taking hold of his hand. He held on as Dad started the car up and made his way from the parking lot to the road. Dad stopped and leaned down looking out the window at Bram.
“Take care,” he signed.
Bram bent down for one more kiss, then let go of my hand. We kept our eyes locked on each other as Dad pulled onto the road. I turned around and stuck my head out the window, waving at him until we rounded a corner and he fell from my sight.
I sat back against the seat and let the cool air blow around my face. I closed my eyes and visualized Bram still standing there.
“I love you,” I sent to him.
“I love you too,” he replied.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I stretched out my arms and legs, taking in the floral scent of my fabric-softened sheets. I closed my eyes and felt such intense relaxation from being in my own bed that it made me not want to move. Breathing in deeply once more, I inhaled the scrumptious aroma of bacon and blueberry waffles. My eyes shot open and I threw the sheets back off my legs, covering my grouchy cat Max. He let out a small mew and quickly jumped from my bed, cutting me off on my way to the kitchen.
“I knew this would get you up,” laughed Mom as she flipped the pieces of turkey bacon.
I stood beside her and closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of my favorite breakfast. She reached her hand over and patted my cheek, then leaned in and put her head against mine.
“I am so glad you’re home. This house gets really quiet without you two,” she said with a happy lilt to her voice.
We all ate breakfast together and talked about the upcoming weekend and what we wanted to do with it. Dad was anxious to get back to work. He’d never been away from the place for so long and, being as it was his business, felt the need to get back to it right away. I was happy to have a few days to myself before returning to the daily grind of school. I really needed time to decompress.
After breakfast I went to my room and unpacked, throwing my dirty clothes into the hamper. I looked in my closet and felt like it had been years since I stood there. I pulled out one of my favorite t- shirts and a pair of jeans and changed. I plopped on my bed and pulled my backpack to my side, opening it and spreading out its contents.
The necklace from Dad sat nestled in the velvet box. I smiled as I remembered the day he gave it to me. Some other trinkets I had accumulated on my trip to Ireland lay scattered on the bed: pieces of jewelry from Kelleigh, a CD from Quinn, and a garnet bracelet from Bram. I put the bracelet on my arm and slid it up to my elbow. I put the CD in my player and listened to the music from the group we had seen at the club that night Bram and I danced. I slipped on the Celtic knot ring from Kelleigh and felt connected to the three of them. Laying at the bottom on my backpack was the rock Mom had painted for me…the one with the eagle. I held it in the palm of my hand and thought how weird it was that she painted an eagle.
I reached into my backpack and pulled out the Aisling map from Grandma, along with some of the pictures we’d brought back with us. When I shared the map with Dad on the flight home, it stirred up memories of how Grandma would disappear some days, and when she finally returned she was a mess. Her normally perfect hair was loose and wild, with twigs in it, and her shoes were muddy along with the rest of her clothes. He wondered at the time why Conor never pressed her for details on where she’d been. “All those times…she must have been in the forest,” he decided.
I sat all the pictures on my dresser where I’d be able to look at them every day. I then found the letter from Grandma, the one that had been for my birthday. Stretching out on my bed I rested my head against my propped-up pillows and opened the letter. I loved reading her blessing and decided I needed to get to the store and pick up some frames for all the treasures I’d brought home. I traced the pattern of Grandma’s handwriting with my index finger and saw there were similarities in the way we wrote. I found that comforting.
A picture fell away from the others that I had placed on my dresser, and I reached down to the floor to pick it up. It was of Shannah and Conor and Dad. Shannah had spoken of Dad in her letter and hoped they would be able to resolve their problems. It was sad that Grandma wasn’t around to see Dad and Grandpa reconcile, but I took comfort in the dream I’d had of them and Joseph and felt sure that she knew.
My phone suddenly began vibrating. My friends were chomping at the bit to get together and hear about Ireland. Mom agreed to their coming over, but only after she had me to herself for a little while.
After breakfast and unpacking, Mom suggested we go check out the gallery where her paintings hung on display. They looked amazing. She said some art reviewers had compared her to R.C. Gorman, a Native American artist, and that had her beaming. She was so excited because two of them had sold already. I felt really happy and proud of her. This was something she had worked on for such a long time and to now see her dream realized was inspiring.
After that we went and had lunch at our favorite café. We talked and talked and I told her all about Bram. She wanted every little detail about him and the family I’d met there. She listened attentively and laughed when I told her about Uncle Eagan and Quinn and Kelleigh. She had fond memories of her short time in Ireland, especially of Eagan. He really had a way of making an impression on people.
When I began to talk about the Triquetra and Fomorians, she suggested we head over to the park and sit there while we talk. I got the feeling she didn’t want to be overheard, which was ok with me. She rubbed my back as I relayed the story of the batt
le with Cyril and the other three Fomorians, and bit her lip during the more intense parts. The look of worry faded from her face when I described how Carissa had disintegrated and Aaron felt sure they’d be no problem… at least not for a very long time.
Tears welled up in her eyes when I told her about Joseph and what had happened to him at the lake. She knew Dad had a twin who had passed away, but other than that, she had been as much in the dark about Joseph as I was. She stared up at the sky when I explained how Cyril had been the monster who had killed Joseph, then took on his characteristics as an adult.
Hours had passed and my voice was cracking from talking so much. Mom suggested we go home and relax…catch up with Dad and see how he was doing. We came back to the house to find him sleeping soundly on the sofa. “Jet lag,” Mom whispered and took my arm, leading me out back to our patio.
She brought out some iced tea and we sat down under the covered gazebo.
“So many things happened, Wagmu. I see so much growth in you in the matter of a few weeks. Your father is very proud and said you helped him in ways he could never imagine,” she said, raising her glass to her lips.
“Yeah, now that I’m home it almost seems like a dream…or nightmare, at least parts of it. It was crazy at times, Mom – so much going on and you seemed so far away.” I reached my hand out and rested it on top of hers.
She took hold of my hand and pulled it up to her cheek. “Ah, Willow. Life in the best situations is confusing and wondrous. What you have endured is on a whole other plane. You’ve been chosen to be a part of something extraordinary.” Mom released my hand and leaned closer. “It seems to me… you have achieved Ihan’bla,” she said quietly, almost reverently.
I stopped mid-sip and put my glass down. “The rite of passage?” I asked.
“Yes,” she answered, a smile edging across her face.
I sat back in my chair and couldn’t help but think of Grandma and her map and the forest of aisling, the forest of dreams… visions. I lowered my eyes, recalling Mom’s explanation of Ihan’bla; the vision quest, where the supernatural world may contact you and advise you in the natural world. A Lakota ritual we go through, one way or another, that usually symbolizes a Lakota’s passage into adulthood.
