“Sit down,” she said, pointing to an empty chair.
I obeyed. “It’s everything. The Other Realm … life. Everything. The Dark versus the Light.” My face crumpled for a moment before I cleared my throat and sat up a little straighter. I looked down at my hands and placed them on the table, lacing my fingers together as I whispered, “It’s like I don’t know who to trust anymore.”
“Ah,” my mom murmured softly. She leaned forward and placed a soft hand on my interwoven fingers. “I know it’s difficult right now. But, you do know. And you know exactly what to do.”
I lifted my head and shook it violently. “No, see”—
I thrust my hair behind my ears and leaned forward—
“I don’t.”
She patted my hands before clasping them firmly. “You do,” she insisted.
I shrugged and looked down at the pattern on the kitchen tile floor. “Mom, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Well … ” I looked at my nails and pretended to study them. “You and dad are different, you know? I mean, how does that work? He’s not into any of … ” I trailed off. I waved my arm around the kitchen. “Any of that stuff.”
She smiled. “Your father and I love each other very much. And even though we differ in the way we practice our beliefs, and sometimes in the way we express our heart’s desires, we are still connected very much at a soul level.” She squeezed my hand. “True love isn’t always easy. It’s work. It’s challenging. But at its core, there’s utmost respect and understanding.” She released my hand and sat back. “Everything else can be worked out.”
I nodded and remained silent, save for the crackling of the burning candle on the table.
She stood up and walked over to the kitchen cupboard. “You know, Leah,” she said as she pulled a box of herbal tea out of the cabinet, “I’m so proud of you. You’ve always been … ” She paused as she pulled out a tea bag. “Been, for the most part, willing to live your purpose. You’re measured in your decisions. You’re rational. A pure soul.” She put two mugs of water into the microwave and pressed a few buttons, then turned around to face me. “Of course, you certainly didn’t come into the world like that.” She laughed and pulled the mugs out. She plopped a tea bag into each one and walked back over to the table. She placed one of the steaming mugs in front of me.
“I know. I’ve heard the story a million times.”
She got a faraway look. “You were born a month premature, and neither your father nor I, with Morgana barely a year old, were prepared for another baby just yet. But nature decided differently.” She lifted her mug to her lips and sipped delicately before continuing. “It was pouring rain, a horrible thunderstorm, as we drove to the hospital when I went into labor. Some of the streets were flooded, and we had to keep driving around to find a different route. The water was splashing down on the car so hard, your father could barely see the road. The contractions came faster and faster, until my water broke and I could tell that you were coming out, ready or not.”
I nodded to her as I sipped my tea.
“Your father had to deliver you, not two blocks from the hospital. And right when you came out … ” She looked at me and smiled, her eyes watering.
“It stopped raining,” I finished.
She nodded. “It was a miracle. The rain stopped pounding against the windshield, the wind quieted in the trees. The sun broke through the heavy rain clouds and the birds started to sing once again. It’s like the universe was already singing your praises.”
Although I’d heard this story more times than I could remember, I leaned forward, listening intensely.
“It was a miracle. You were a miracle. Are a miracle, to us and to Them. All of you girls are. You’re all my treasures,” she said quietly, her soft face turning toward me.
“I know,” I whispered to her. “But what if I’m trapped there again?”
“You won’t be,” she said. “You already have the answers, Leah. Just believe in them.”
I lifted the cup and drained my tea before standing up. “I’m going to my room,” I said, and she nodded.
I walked down the hallway and went into my bedroom. I lowered myself down on the floor and pulled out an old photo of Fiona and me, from before she went to live in the Other Realm. I ran my fingers over her lined and wrinkled face—which had become smooth and taut once she’d crossed over—and remembered what she said to me right before she passed the title on: “Believe in your soul’s purpose, for you have a gift, Leah. A treasure. Honor it, and the universe will align in ways you cannot imagine.”
I screwed my eyes tightly closed and brought my hands up to my face. I counted slowly before opening my eyes and staring at the ceiling of my bedroom.
And it was there—looking up at the spot where the painters overlapped the seafoam green on my walls with the stark white of the ceiling—that I said, “Okay. I’ll come. I’ll go back to the Other Realm.”
Twenty-Four
Ready?”
I looked at Slade, my eyes wide. I reached deep into my hoodie pocket and clutched the four-leafed clover there. I hoped it would do its job and serve as protection against the spells in the Other Realm. The moon hung high above the sky, a silent witness to my impending
passage.
“Leah, it’s time. It’s midnight,” Slade said.
I pressed the clover tighter and hoped it would protect me from being oblivious to the passage of time.
Again.
“Remember, I want to start in the Light Kingdom, in Tara,” I said to Slade.
“Yes. However, I will not be welcome there,” Slade said, pulling a pack of matches out of his leather pants, his dark hair scattering across his white forehead like dark shards of glass.
“I know, but I just want to start with what I know. Ease into it,” I said. I chewed on my lower lip and hoped he wouldn’t press any further. Truth be told, I was terrified to go to Inis Mor and was hoping I’d find the answers in Tara, without ever having to enter that spooky island.
“It’s time,” Slade said again as he struck a match. The fire illuminated against his face. I nodded.
Slade lit a piece of apple tree bark and placed it on the ground in front of us. I closed my eyes and felt Slade’s icy hand brush mine, then grip it. “Go ahead,” he said.
“Créatúir fair and Créatúir bright, Créatúir large and Créatúir slight, I come to you on this night. Open a door, I have no fear, I come to you my Créatúir dear. Bring my soul and body to the Land of Light, grant me entrance to Tara, grant me sight,” I whispered. Despite myself, I squeezed Slade’s hand as I finished the chant.
I waited. And felt nothing.
I snapped open my eyes and saw the oak trees around us, the full moon still shining above. The same.
“Wha … ” I started to say, but then my body began
to grow light. An overwhelming sense of dizziness started at the crown of my head and moved down my body,
paralyzing it.
“Hold on, Shaman,” Slade said.
I panted for breath and watched a blackbird circle above us. My chest grew tighter and tighter until I could no longer breathe as the bird drew nearer, as if it would blind me with its dark feathers.
Then …
Suddenly …
A brilliant flash of light emanated from my triskele birthmark.
The blackbird swooped down, its black feathers instantly transforming into brilliant rainbow colors—twinkling purple, brilliant yellow, and luminescent pink.
All around us were green meadows, twinkling lights, and brilliant bands of rainbows shooting out of every flower.
We were in the Light Kingdom of the Other Realm. I had arrived in Tara.
The place I vowed I’d never go again. But one time,
I
promised Morgana I’d never steal her clothes behind
her back, and … well … at least I was consistent in my wavering.
“We’re here,” Slade said as he dropped my hand.
“No kidding. It looks the same,” I whispered. I looked around slowly, amazed but afraid to move. All around me, tiny pixies, shining as brightly as the sun, twinkled and tended to the massive carpet of flora and fauna that stretched as far as the eye could see. They looked like little tiny migrant workers, lovingly stroking each flower and petal until it shone. The tinted sky, the color of orange sherbet ice cream, reflected off the still lakes. Far off in the distance, I could see the massive glass castle surrounded by light, its rounded turrets reaching toward the sky. Thick blankets of mist rolled across the landscape, enriching the air.
“I forgot how beautiful it is,” I said, my eyes filling with tears.
I watched as a herd of leaf-dragons moved across the green hills, their wings shimmying in unison, their snake tails twitching.
I remembered why I didn’t want to leave. I remembered that I’d chosen to stay. I remembered that Fiona warned me about the passage of time, but that I didn’t care.
Shame and fear gripped me and I began to grow dizzy.
“Are you all right?” Slade asked.
I nodded and reached into my hoodie pocket again, rubbing the clover twice for good measure.
I looked around the landscape, at the brilliance of nature that existed so abundantly in this world, brilliance that we only get to see in tiny glimpses in the human realm. I saw the soft glow emanating from my birthmark, now reunited with its origins.
“Let’s go to the Castle of Glass,” I said.
I stepped a few feet forward and noticed thick, hot, pink apples hanging heavily off a tree in front of us. I reached up and pulled an apple toward me, to pick it off the branch. As soon as the fruit released from the tree, a tiny woman popped out of the top of the apple. She waved her fist at me and screeched profanities in a tiny voice.
“Oops. Sorry,” I said sheepishly, and gently placed the apple on the green carpet. “What?” I’d noticed Slade
staring at me with disdain. “Jeez … ” I muttered, pulling my shirt a little further down my hips.
“So, where do we—” I started to say, but Slade gestured toward a tall, wrinkled old man, dressed in brilliant blue robes and carrying a wooden staff, who had stepped into our path. A group of four young, muscular, shirtless men followed behind him. The young men were attached to the old figure by long golden chains, linking the young men’s ears to the old man’s tongue.
Ogma. And his band of Merry Men.
Fascinated at the sight of the joyous younger men following this wizened old figure, I watched as they slowly approached us through a field of poppies. One of Ogma’s followers happily gazed across the horizon, thrilled in his servitude to his master. Then, suddenly, his eye landed on something. Something Dark. Something … out of place.
The Merry Man stopped and shrieked in a high-pitched tone that made me crouch and cover my ears lest my eardrums split in half. His sudden halt caused the rest of the Merry Men to jerk in place, their golden leashes taut. Ogma stopped and looked back. His eyes were at first angry, then terrified, as he looked in the direction where his follower was pointing.
Ogma lifted a gnarled finger and pointed it at Slade and me. “Dark one!” he sputtered in Créatúir-speak.
“Shifter!” one of the Merry Men cried.
“Ogma,” Slade said as he stepped toward the group, causing the Light beings to start shaking violently. “You should be so lucky as—”
“Er.” I elbowed Slade in his bony rib cage. “What my friend is trying to say is that we’re here to meet with the—”
“Shaman!” Ogma exclaimed. “She’s here,” he murmured to his men, and they bowed to me.
“Um, hey,” I said, giving them an awkward wave. “So, anyway, we’re just here to—”
Slade hissed in my ear. “Beware the passage of time,” he said.
“Right! So, we’re going to the Castle now!” I said brightly. I grabbed the front of Slade’s black T-shirt and pulled him down the path. Ogma and his followers shrunk back as Slade passed, his long shadow casting a chill over the Light Créatúir.
“Damn Tara. Too many flowers,” Slade muttered as he brushed through the thicket on the path.
“Careful now. I am the Créatúir Shaman. I won’t have you damaging any Tara property in my presence,” I said before I could stop myself.
Slade chuckled a little, a deep rumbling sound that made my bones chill.
As we approached the Castle of Glass, it seemed to grow brighter and brighter, yet further away. With each step through the multicolored grass, the castle seemed further in the horizon, like a mirage.
My legs started to get tired and I paused to catch
my breath.
“It’s so far away,” I panted to Slade, who continued to speed ahead of me.
He stopped and turned around. “No, it’s not. It’s right in front of us.” He pointed up at the castle.
“No it’s—” I stopped. I reached into my pocket and clutched the clover. The castle moved to almost directly in front of me.
Ah, yes. A glamour.
Swarms of rainbow birds circled over our heads, singing sweet melodies that made me want to forget about this whole Four Treasures mission and just lie in the poppy fields and watch the clouds.
We walked up to the golden gate of the Castle of Glass. They were encrusted with topaz, emeralds, and diamonds. I extended my arm to push them open.
“Shaman,” the orange and green flowers around the gate whispered.
“Yeah, thanks. Listen, we need to speak to Queen Anya and the Light Kingdom Court,” I said aloud.
“Dark Créatúir!” The flowers whimpered softly.
“Oh, him,” I said, looking back at Slade. “He’s
with me.”
The gates disappeared into bubbles in front of us. We walked into the castle and through an ornate room decorated with gold leaf and marble everywhere. Flowers glowed like lanterns, leading our way. There were flowers adorned with tiger’s eye and topaz jewels in their centers. Small crystal balls, floating through the air, held tiny flower faeries like pet birds in gilded cages.
High up on a blue glass pedestal sat King Cian and Queen Anya, surrounded by their court. Anya’s leopard-spotted skin twinkled with the magic of the Light Kingdom as she sat on her gold and silver throne. King Cian’s light purple skin, with its black tiger stripes, was a contrast to Anya’s pelt. His blue unicorn horn twinkled in between his green eyes, white light surrounding it. Resembling a cross between a mystical tiger and a unicorn, Cian was nearly unrecognizable as a man or woman, save for his title as king. Sulevia and Nuala stood with the courtiers near them, watching.
“Good to see you Shaman,” Queen Anya said. “Please accept our offering of this gold bracelet as our thanks.”
“Er, thanks,” I said. “But I can’t accept any gifts. The whole accept-a-gift-risk-getting-trapped-forever policy.” I laughed awkwardly. “Listen, I don’t have much time here, but I came to help heal what’s happening in your realm and to establish who is responsible for Fiona and King Oran’s deaths.”
King Cian lowered his head and his blue unicorn horn drew darker. “Fiona loved you very much, Leah.”
“I loved her, too. She was a great friend.” I bowed my head. “She’s the reason why I chose to take back the title of Shaman. I felt I owed it to her.” I glanced around the throne room. “And to all of your world.”
“She is greatly missed,” King Cian said.
I nodded and stole a glance at Slade out of the corner of my eye. “I think I know who, or should I say what, is responsible for … ” I trailed off as I swept my hand around. King Cian and Qu
een Anya leaned forward while Nuala shook her head at me. I cleared my throat and said, “I believe it’s the Fomoriians.”
Cian shook his head. “Not true. It is the Dark
Créatúir.”
“See, I thought that at first, but now I’m starting to think it’s something bigger,” I said meekly, my face starting to grow hot.
King Cian’s face stiffened and his black tiger stripes grew thicker against his purple coat. He stood, his robes twinkling, and pointed at Slade. “It is them. The Dark. They’ve been trying to take over Tara for centuries now!”
“Cian, you know not what you say,” Slade hissed. “You—”
“Please, stop!” I cried out. “I didn’t come here to deal with this. It isn’t going to get us anywhere. Look, you guys wanted me to be involved, so I agreed. I even agreed to come here, a place where I said I’d never come again. Even though you might not want to believe what I’m saying, you have to. We must work together, and”—my voice broke off—“and save your world.”
The King and Queen were silent for a moment. Sulevia’s eyes were soft. I looked at Slade, who shrugged slightly.
“Do you know where to find the Four Treasures?” I asked Cian.
He shook his head. “They have been lost for so many years; many do not believe they exist. Many believe them to be folklore, to be false.”
I smiled at him. “I know. I did, too. What do you believe?”
Cian leaned forward on his throne, his neck suddenly growing long so that his face was a foot from mine. His jeweled pupils flashed with intensity. “I believe you will save our world.” He leaned back and his eyes dulled. “That is what I believe.”
“I’m certainly going to try,” I said, motioning to Slade that it was time for us to leave.
“We believe in you, Shaman,” King Cian said as Slade and I exited the royal chambers.
As we left the castle, I muttered, “He believes in me? Big mistake. I don’t even know what I’m doing. How is coming here going to help? He just told me the same stuff I’ve heard before.”
Slade turned around. “Follow me and you’ll see. You need to see. With your own mortal eyes.”
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