I reached out a hand and brushed it against Devlin’s arm. “I'm sorry.”
He shrugged. “We survived, thanks mostly to Enorah and the Wildren of the Weald.”
I gave him a confused look and he smiled, stirring the spoon around in his mug. “I told you a little about Enorah earlier. She and a handful of other Faelorehn have made a home in Eile’s great forest, the Weald, and that is where the orphaned children of the Otherworld tend to gather. It’s a haven from the dangers of the outside world, and it gives them a chance to grow up among people who care about them.”
How utterly depressing, yet wonderful at the same time. To grow up alongside other orphans in a magical forest? What I wouldn’t have given to have gone to the Weald when I was young.
I cleared my throat. “I was an orphan, too.”
Devlin’s look of surprise was almost comical, but I only nodded somberly. “Here in the mortal world, if you are an orphan and have no relatives to take you in, you are either adopted or go into the foster care system. I was taken in by my foster parents when I was four and they later adopted me. Before that, I was passed from one home to the next. I have no idea who my real parents are.”
I had thought I’d come to terms with my past long ago, but for some reason discussing it with Devlin was tantamount to tearing open a nearly healed scab. A deep sadness threatened to well up, and I had to fight against it to keep it from overwhelming me.
Gentle fingers touched my chin and tilted my head up. Devlin again, extending that tender kindness. He considered me with liquid blue eyes.
“I’m sorry, Robyn,” he whispered, “I know what it is like to grow up without a family, but not to know who my true parents are? I can’t imagine that.” He drew a deep breath and continued, “My brother and I never knew my father, but we knew my mother loved him very much. Her love would have been enough for us, but then she died. I ended up caring for my brother until we gave up trying to make it on our own and sought out the Weald.”
He let my chin go and turned back to his plate, picking up a wedge of sandwich and taking a hearty bite. I bit my lip, wondering if I really wanted to talk about my family issues with him. It wasn’t a subject I willingly brought up. Even with Meghan and Tully and the boys, my closest friends, I avoided that topic. But something about Devlin encouraged me to throw my misgivings aside. Maybe it was because of the aura of comfort and protectiveness he gave off. Or maybe it was the fact that he, too, had grown up without his true mother and father.
“I’m sorry about your mother,” I said again.
Devlin nodded his head once, then reached for the other half of the sandwich. He must have liked it, because he finished it before I had a chance to take a bite of mine.
Although he didn’t prompt me, Devlin’s presence soon had me talking about my own somewhat lonesome childhood. Despite my apprehension, I gradually found the words and memories coming easier to me.
“When I was younger, I had this addiction to running outside in the middle of a thunderstorm. We don’t get them here that often, so maybe I was enthralled by their rare visits.” I shrugged and gathered up a spoonful of tomato soup.
“Aren’t most children terrified of thunder? In Eile we can get some fierce storms, capable of tearing ancient oaks up from the roots,” Devlin said.
I shuddered at the thought, then shrugged. “Our storms aren’t nearly that terrifying, even the so-called bad ones. But I was a strange kid. My foster parents were horrified by my affinity with thunder and lightning. Of course, as I grew older they viewed my odd behavior as defiance.”
Devlin glanced up from his plate. “Defiance?”
I released a small sigh. “My mother and father are really religious. They would dress me up and take me to church with them every Sunday. I never really felt comfortable there, so when I was little, I’d act up. Somehow, they eventually got me to behave properly, but once I started high school, I refused to go. For years I’d done everything I could to be the daughter they wanted, but I don’t know, maybe something in me finally snapped and I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I wouldn’t change. After my freshman year in high school I went overboard on the whole free spirit thing. A lot of it had to do with me, but I think a lot of my rebellion was a direct attack on their principles. To them I was a suffering soul who needed saving, when the truth was I just didn’t share their beliefs."
“Surely they understood your wishes.”
I released a sharp laugh, then shook my head. “Are you kidding? My interests turned toward the more pagan lifestyle. I might as well have been the spawn of Satan. I’m pretty sure that’s what they believe even now."
I snatched up the remaining half of my sandwich, taking a savage bite and chewing it like it was a piece of beef jerky. Okay, maybe I was being a little dramatic, but ever since I’d gone off to college, my parents had seemed to distance themselves even further from me, so of course I was a bit bitter.
After swallowing my food, I said, “On the morning of my eighteenth birthday I woke up and walked out into the living room to find my stuff packed up in boxes and my parents standing in the archway of the kitchen. They told me that if I didn’t start living by their rules and turn away from my ‘sinful’ lifestyle, then I could no longer live under their roof.”
Not their words exactly, but pretty close. The memory flooded into my mind like water bursting through a broken dam. And like that icy rush of water, the recollection was just as painful, slamming into me and driving the air from my lungs. I had not wanted to relive that memory, but unfortunately that’s the direction the conversation had turned.
The tomato soup churned in my stomach, and the rage I always kept hidden away threatened to burst free. What on Earth had convinced me that this was a good topic of conversation? Despite the occasional phone calls and letters I sent home, my foster parents remained unyielding. They didn’t want to hear about my grades or my job or my friends. All they cared about was whether or not I had “come to my senses.” They had given me food and shelter and a good education, and I was grateful to them for that. But none of those things filled the emptiness I felt in my heart for the one thing I really wanted from them: love. To be accepted for who I was and to be loved regardless of my flaws or beliefs. That’s all I had ever wanted from them.
When I returned my attention to the living room, I discovered that Devlin had moved. He was right in front of me, on his knees so that he was level with my face.
“No one should ever have to suffer such a betrayal, Robyn,” he said softly, reaching out to me. Only when his thumb wiped away something wet from my face did I realize I was crying. Immediately I stiffened, pulling away from him like a frightened, feral animal. What the hell? I wiped at my face in horror. Had Devlin worked some bizarre, Otherworldly spell on me? I never cried. Any drop of sappy emotion that tried to escape always got burned up in the atmosphere of my scorching temperament.
The softness in Devlin’s eyes hardened, and he reclaimed his hand.
“Sorry,” I grumbled, doing my best to hide my discomfiture, “I don’t usually like to talk about my foster parents.”
Devlin stood carefully, grimacing from what I assumed was the pain in his leg, and crossed his arms, the sentimental moment gone. “You have no need to apologize. If they cannot accept your differences and learn to appreciate them, then they don’t deserve you.”
I smiled and huffed, the shadow of a laugh. Scrubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands, I said sardonically, “Thanks. And I appreciate your concern, but I’m being a little ridiculous. Must be from all the excitement tonight, and I’m pretty tired.”
“Then we’d best get some rest.”
Devlin turned away from me and resettled himself on the futon. He almost fit on the entire thing by lying diagonally, but his legs still hung off the end.
“Good night,” he called out, “and thank you for tending to my injuries.”
“Good night, Devlin,” I returned. “And thank you for your kindness.”
My mouth tugged up in a small smile. I stood and took our plates and mugs into the kitchen before following his lead. Once I was under the covers, I hoped exhaustion would knock me out before too long. Unfortunately, falling asleep is pretty tough when your imagination still wants to play. Images of Devlin’s attentiveness kept repeating in my mind, my subconscious adding on its own details and exaggerations. Not a single one of my former boyfriends had ever treated me that well, even after we’d been dating for several weeks. A trait found only in Otherworldly men? Or a characteristic exclusive to Devlin?
Eventually I gave myself a mental shake. Robyn, what are you doing? You hardly know this guy; it’s bad enough you’ve invited him to stay the night in your apartment, and you cried in front of him. Fantasizing about him will do neither one of you any good. Yes, my internal voice was correct and I knew that nothing could ever work between Devlin and I, but what harm could it do to daydream? With that final thought, I curled up around my pillow and gave in to my most wild imaginings before eventually falling asleep.
-Seven-
Monster
I woke up the next morning feeling groggy. I lifted my hands to my hair. Yep, a rat’s nest. There was grit in my eyes, I desperately needed to pee, and I had a sinking feeling I hadn’t brushed my teeth before going to bed. Ugh, what had happened last night?
Shrugging and deciding a nice hot shower would take care of everything, I pulled back the curtain that separated my bedroom nook from the rest of my living space. When I spotted the futon, tucked back into place with my old quilt folded neatly under my extra pillow, it all came back to me. Ah. That’s what had happened last night . . .
Gingerly, I pulled the curtain back into place and dropped my face into my hands. An image of Devlin sitting in front of me blossomed in my mind. I pictured his perfect body interrupted only by old scars and the artwork inked into his skin. For a fleeting moment, I wished he was standing before me now so I could study those beautiful tattoos more closely. Last night I’d been too flustered to take the time to admire them. They had a Celtic aspect to them, that much I could remember, but they looked nothing like the knotwork and swirl designs I’d seen on some of my pagan friends.
Other than the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock hanging over the door, my apartment was uncharacteristically still. I listened for the sound of the faucet or the hiss of the shower head, but all was silent in the bathroom as well. Climbing out of bed and grabbing a sweatshirt, I crossed to the door and pulled it open, bundling up against the chill of a late September morning. After giving the yard and street a thorough examination I concluded that Devlin was gone. Disappointment washed over me, followed quickly by a sense of relief. Having Devlin in my life, in any aspect, was not a good idea. He was a distraction, one I didn’t need right now. Taking a deep breath of the foggy air, I turned around and headed back into my apartment, trying to convince myself it was all for the best.
One look at the clock reminded me that it was too early to be awake, especially since I hadn’t gone to bed until after two in the morning. Unfortunately, I wasn’t tired anymore. It would hit me later in the day, but I could deal with it then. I needed some task to keep my mind occupied. I decided that making my bed was a good place to start, and as I moved in that direction, I noticed the note. A piece of binder paper had been taken out of one of my notebooks, the edge neatly picked clean of torn paper bits. It fluttered to the ground as I brushed past my desk. Curious, I reached to pick it up and saw my name neatly scrawled across the front. My heart skipped a beat as I unfolded the paper.
Robyn,
Please forgive my absence this morning. It was necessary for me to return to Eile as soon as possible, for the wound I received had begun to grow worse by dawn, and I did not want to disturb you from your rest. Again, I cannot thank you enough for your help and I wish you well in your future endeavors.
- Devlin O’Brolaigh
I flipped the paper over, expecting to find more. A small wave of disappointment crashed over me. That was it? Thanks for patching me up, but I’ve got to dash. Have a great life! With less enthusiasm than usual, I crumpled the paper up and tossed it into the trash bin beside my desk.
“Well Robyn,” I said out loud, “looks like life is going to go back to normal for you. Forget about these strange, past few days and move on with your life.”
Don’t get me wrong, my life would be so much less stressful if it were to return to the way it was before the faelah started showing up. Only problem was, I wasn’t that good at normal to begin with, and Devlin O’Brolaigh was far too memorable to easily forget.
* * *
Three weeks breezed by and Devlin stayed true to his word. In the beginning, I’d hoped he might change his mind and cross my path again. Eventually, I realized my encounter with Devlin O’Brolaigh was to be one of those experiences I’d look back on years from now as a memory I couldn’t distinguish between dream and reality.
I immersed myself in school and work, and I even started spending time with my pagan group again. The Monday after Devlin left, I climbed on the bus that would take me to campus and was somewhat surprised to see Evan there. He had been gone for so long that I had concluded he’d dropped the class. At first I was relieved to see him, then I remembered the encounter with the Noctyrnum and irritation pricked at me. I had to confront him about that, but I needed to do so delicately. Getting up from my seat, I walked to the back of the bus and sat down next to him.
“Hey Evan,” I said, keeping my voice casual.
He smiled weakly and responded, “Hey.”
One quick look told me that his reason for missing school couldn’t have been a pleasant one. He seemed thinner, his eyes more sunken and his skin paler.
I cleared my throat. "So, where’ve you been?”
His slight grimace didn’t escape my notice, but I decided not to mention it.
“Had the flu or something,” he grumbled.
“You feeling better?” By looks alone, I’d say he could use another few days of bed rest.
He shrugged. “A little.”
That moment probably wasn’t the best time to talk to him about my encounter, but it was eating away at me and sometimes it was best just to jump all at once into the frigid water.
“Listen, Evan, I need to ask you about something.”
He went very still, as if he knew what I was going to say.
Bracing myself for an uncomfortable response, I said, “A few weeks ago I was approached by some people outside my apartment. I think they were members of the Noctyrnum, and they knew my name. I was just wondering if you told them about me by any chance.”
The bus slowed to a stop, unloading a few people and picking up more. As we started moving again, Evan took a small breath and let it out slowly.
“I’m sorry, Robyn,” he murmured, his chin dropping to his chest, his black hair falling forward to hide his face.
Instantly, my hackles lifted. You son of a bitch! I wanted to shout. They almost dragged me down into the creek to kill me!
Before I could so much as glare in his direction, the words burst out of his mouth. “I’m so sorry, Robyn! They didn’t hurt you, did they? At our first meeting they asked us if we knew of any people who might be interested in joining. I thought of you because you’re the only person in Earth Bound who ever made an effort to be my friend.”
My ire vaporized as Evan went on his agitated tirade. It was clear that he felt bad about the whole thing. And what he said was true; I’d been the only one to humor him at our Earth Bound meetings. Evan gave off an uneasy vibe, something everyone in the group had picked up on. I had felt it too, but I had decided to give Evan a chance by being friendly with him. And what did that get me? A new admirer with stalker tendencies who had given my name up to a band of brutish animal torturers who just might have ties to an immortal degenerate toting around the Morrigan’s dark magic. Yay for me!
Sighing and shoving those negative thoughts out of my mind, I mustered
up what patience I had left and turned to face my friend. “Listen Evan, you can’t hang out with those people anymore. They’re bad people. They didn’t hurt me, but they could have.”
His eyes grew huge, and I held up a hand. “I haven’t seen them in weeks. I don’t think they found me worth the effort, so I’m not going to worry about it anymore. But you need to get away from them. Look, I’ve decided to start going to Earth Bound meetings again. Maybe you could, too. I know not everyone has been all that welcoming to you, but maybe if all of us make a little effort, it will work out. What do you say?”
Ugh, why was I encouraging him to spend more time with me? Because despite your prickly exterior, you are a softie at heart, Robyn Dunbarre.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I grumbled at that inner voice.
Something seemed to cross Evan’s face, an expression I couldn’t put my finger on, but it was quickly replaced with hope.
“Do you think so?” he asked.
I nodded and lifted my shoulders. “It’s worth a try.”
Our bus came to a stop, and I realized we were on the Cuesta campus. I stood, hiking my bag back onto my shoulder.
“So, are you all caught up or do you need to borrow my notes?” I asked as we stepped off the bus and headed toward our mutual class.
“I emailed our professor last week and he sent me an update,” Evan answered.
We fell into companionable silence after that, and for the handful of days that followed, Evan seemed to grow more confident and less awkward around me. On the weekends, I saw him at the Earth Bound meetings. Everyone appeared happy to see me that first Saturday after I’d been absent for so long, and of course there was that slight awkwardness toward Evan at first, but he must have taken my advice to heart because he was acting a lot more friendly and easygoing than before.
Sophia, one of the members who had been almost as shy as Evan when I’d first met her, pulled me aside and asked if Evan and I were now a couple. My look of disbelief was only half as disarming as my snort of laughter.
Lorehnin: A Novel of the Otherworld Page 8
