by Sean Cullen
His head came up out of the water beside Oona’s. He took a deep breath and immediately started to cough.
Oona slapped his back. “You have to get used to breathing air again,” she said, laughing at his spluttering. “Give it a moment.”
Brendan coughed heartily for a few seconds, spitting and choking until he had control of himself. Water flowed freely from his mouth and nostrils as he emptied his lungs. The bow wave from the ferry washed over him, filling his mouth with dank, oily water. He choked anew.
He was in the middle of the second coughing fit when Miv’s head, hair slicked back with water, broke the surface. He raised Kim’s head above the water. She was stirring but still not fully awake. “Here you go,” Miv said. He pushed Kim into Brendan’s arms. “We have brought you to the Island of the Ward as you have asked us to do. The Swan is here. We can do no more.” Miv and Oona turned away.
“Wait!” Brendan grabbed Oona’s shoulder. “Where are you going? I need you.”
Oona smiled ruefully and shook her head. “No. We go this far and no farther.”
“Why?” Brendan shifted Kim so he could get a better grip on her. He was starting to feel cold. “Can’t you live on land?”
The Silkies laughed. “No, no! Nothing like that. We can survive on the land for a time,” Miv told him. His dark eyes turned to watch the ferry easing into the concrete pier. “We choose not to. We will leave you here. Goodbye, Breandan. Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll meet again.”
Miv disappeared under the waves with barely a splash to mark his passing. Oona gripped Brendan’s forearm and squeezed. “Remember what you’ve seen.” She raised a dripping arm and pointed ashore. “Follow the path. There are signs for eyes that can see. The Swan awaits you. Good luck.” She winked and disappeared after her brother.
Brendan was left standing in the cold stinking water. Kim floated in his arms.
Now what? What am I supposed to do?
As he watched, he noticed a smudge of cloud roiling over the lake. Lightning flashed within the disturbance. The cloud was moving out over the lake from the centre of town. He had lost Orcadia in his trip under the lake but only for a while.
She was coming.
He jumped when the voice shouted from above him.
“I see you down there!”
68 The Toronto Islands were originally a peninsula connected to the mainland by a long spit of land. In 1858 a storm blew a hole in the peninsula, in effect cutting the islands off from the mainland. Humans believe the storm was natural, but it was actually part of the Ward conjured by Ariel to create The Ward’s Island. But I’m getting ahead of myself ... and I wouldn’t want to run into myself should the part of myself that’s ahead of myself suddenly decide to stop for some reason.
THE WARD’S ISLAND
“Are you deaf, kid? I’m talkin’ ta you!” the voice demanded angrily.
Brendan looked up and saw a man in a waterproof coat and hat staring down at him over the edge of the pier. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“U-uh,” Brendan stammered. “I was just … uh … swimming!”
“Ya can’t swim there! Are ya stupid or what? The water’s filthy! You could get cut to pieces by the props. Get outta there.”
“Okay,” Brendan mumbled. He hefted Kim under the arms and dragged her up onto the bank. The mud made the footing slippery and she was a dead weight. He fell a number of times before he managed to get them up onto the grass, where he collapsed beside her to catch his breath.
The man was still looking at him, taking in Kim with a critical eye. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Uh …” Brendan thought quickly. “She fell in and … she fainted from the cold. She’s fine. I’ll take care of her.”
“Just stay right there.” The man pointed at Brendan, indicating he was not to move. As he turned away, Brendan saw him take a radio from his belt. The man spoke quietly into it, and Brendan was sure he was calling the police. For a moment, Brendan toyed with the idea of just sitting, waiting for the police to come, but a look at the storm cloud boiling across the lake changed his mind. He knew that the police wouldn’t be any help against the likes of Orcadia. He had to find this place, the Swan. He had to get some answers.
He became aware that he was hearing music. A band was playing at one of the halls on the island. Brendan had been here for picnics in summers past. He knew there was an amusement park on one of the islands with little kiddie rides and a couple of restaurants and bars. He’d never heard of one called the Swan. He watched as a small airplane rose up over the trees as it took off from the Island Airport. He wished he could just fly away like that plane but here he was, shivering in the grass. What was he supposed to do now?
He reviewed his situation. He knew he was on one of the Toronto Islands, the small scattering of islets that sat offshore from the city. But which one? The Island of the Ward, Miv called it. He slapped his forehead. Of course. Ward’s Island. He’d read somewhere that it was named after a man named Ward, but now that he knew about Faeries, he wasn’t sure that was really where the name came from.69 His father had played a gig there last summer at the Ward’s Island Community Centre. Again, he couldn’t recall a place called the Swan, but he didn’t know the island well.
One thing was for certain, he couldn’t just sit here. Orcadia was coming, and the ferry operator was calling someone on his radio. Time was of the essence. “It’s up to me, then,” he said through chattering teeth.
He got to his feet and pulled Kim up with him. Carrying an unconscious girl around with him seemed like a sure way to attract attention, but he had no choice. He imagined that it looked very bad. Hi! I found this girl and I’m taking her home! Not good, he thought ruefully. The man in the white uniform watched him lift Kim and shuffle away. Brendan was certain the man was suspicious. He could feel the glare following them as he hauled Kim away. Brendan half-dragged, half-walked her to the convergence of paved paths that led away from the ferry pier. He had to find the Swan before the man could call someone to stop him or Orcadia caught up with them.
A street lamp cast a bright white light down over the signpost that listed possible destinations with pointed arrows.
“Centre Park. The Dock. Cycle Paths. The Marina. Ward’s Island Community Centre.” No sign indicating a place called the Swan. “Now what?” He was about to turn away from the sign when something weird happened. 70The central pole of the signpost began to grow!
A further foot of green post sprouted out the top and a sign unfolded. Written in an elegantly quaint hand, the sign read THE SWAN OF LIIR THIS WAY! Brendan rubbed his eyes and stared, but it wasn’t a hallucination. The sign pointed in the direction of the Community Centre, straight up the path toward the interior of the island in the direction of the music he’d been hearing. He hefted Kim and started off down the path.
The music swelled louder the closer he got to the Community Centre. Kim groaned, her head lolling forward as he struggled with her along the paved path. People passing gave him funny looks. He soon came to the edge of an open space. Reggae music was thumping, and the voices of people having fun, shouting, and whooping drifted from the open doors of the Community Centre. Light spilled from the broad windows and the wide double doors.
A cluster of people stood smoking outside the door. Soaked in sweat and steaming in the cool air after the heat of the Community Centre, they were laughing and chatting happily, but they stopped when Brendan shuffled past with his cargo.
“She’s not feeling well,” he explained lamely.
“Do you need a hand?” A young man stepped toward him.
“No! No thanks,” Brendan said quickly. “We’re fine. Her parents are inside. No problem!” The man frowned suspiciously. Brendan hurried past and came to the entrance, where an older woman with grey hair braided at the back and wearing a tie-dyed dress that spread out around her like a tent was sitting at a small table.
“Hi there,” she said, cheerily. “Five dollars
each, please.” Then the woman noticed Kim. “What’s the matter with her?”
“She’s fine. Just a little sick. Flu maybe? She’s flu-ey, y’know. Flu.” Flu-ey? Nice one, dummy.
The woman’s face went from cheerful to suspicious in short order. “What’s going on here?”
“Nothing, really,” Brendan said. “I’m looking for a place called the Swan. The Swan of Liir? I was told it was near here?”
The wind was picking up, lashing the trees. A few drops of rain struck his face. The small hairs on the back of his neck began to rise. Orcadia was getting close, and he still didn’t know where the Swan was. He didn’t want to be caught out in the open when he was so close to the sanctuary Kim had insisted they find.
The smokers decided it was too cold to stay outside and shuffled into the hall. “Weird weather,” one of them said as they pushed past Brendan and Kim. He didn’t know how far away Orcadia was, but he felt instinctively that he didn’t have time to sit around.
“There’s no place named the Swan on the island.” The woman stood up. “You stay right here. I’m going to call security …” She picked up her cellphone and flipped it open.
Brendan turned away from the desk and looked in the direction of the city. The cloud bank had stopped. It appeared to him that the clouds had halted in a roughly semicircular line about two hundred metres from the building. He could see rain falling and lightning igniting the interior of the clouds, but they seemed to have stopped in their advance as if they’d run up against an invisible wall.
“No need to call security, Pearl,” a deep voice rumbled. “I know these two.”
Brendan turned and looked up into a dark smiling face wreathed in knotted dreadlocks. The man was easily the biggest man Brendan had ever seen. No, that wasn’t true. He wasn’t as massive as Borje, but Borje was a Troll and Brendan assumed that Trolls ran to the large side. This man wore a tight T-shirt with a portrait of Bob Marley stretched almost beyond recognition by his massive chest. His bare arms squirmed with muscle and were adorned with raised markings, scars in the shape of lions’ heads. His shaggy, dreadlocked hair was like a ropey mane draped over his broad shoulders. Twined in the strands of hair were beads and bands of metal, gold wire, and lumps of coloured crystal that glimmered in the lights overhead. His skin was like dark chocolate. In contrast, his eyes shone as blue as sapphires. He raised his massive hands and smiled, displaying an impressive array of gold teeth.
“Where you been, man? We been waitin’ for you.” He clapped Brendan on the back and laughed a deep rolling laugh so merry that Brendan almost sagged with relief. Anyone with a laugh like that couldn’t be bad. He stopped laughing when he took in the state of Kim. “What be the problem with the little miss?” the man said. “The flu, is it? Hey! I got just da ting!” He reached down and plucked Kim up as easily as a child and lifted her in his arms. Kim moaned softly and snuggled into the broad chest. “We get you set straight in no time!”
“You know them, Leonard?” the door woman asked.
“That I do, beautiful, sweet Pearl! You don’t worry your pretty head no more about it!”
The woman blushed and smiled. “Oh, well. All right. Yes.” She sat down and giggled like a little girl.
“Follow me, mon.” Leonard turned and walked along the side of the wooden hall. Brendan followed, giddy with relief.
Leonard led him to an open space beside the Community Centre. The grass was close cropped and lush, twinkling with dew. The lights from the building spilled about halfway across the open square of lawn. Brendan remembered from the last time he’d been here that this was a lawn-bowling club in the summer.
“Thanks for rescuing me there,” Brendan said. “I was kind of at the end of my rope.”
“No problem, mon,” Leonard said. “I been told to watch for you. There be folks who want to meet you. Now let’s get in out of the cold, eh?” Leonard looked up at the sky.
“Orcadia is right on my heels,” Brendan said, pointing at the stationary clouds to the south.
“She can’t come any closer, mon. Don’t fret! You be safe now. The Ward protects you.”
Brendan was about to ask for an explanation when they were interrupted by a sharp, angry voice.
“You! Stop right there.”
Brendan turned and saw a man in a dark security uniform. He held a walkie-talkie in his hand and pointed at Brendan. “What’s going on here?”
“Going on?” Brendan repeated, trying to think fast. “Uh … she …” He jerked his head at Kim. “She’s really tired. And sick! She’s tired and sick. Yeah. So I was helping her. Yeah.”
Before the guard could lay a hand on Brendan, Leonard stepped between them. “Simon,” Leonard said in a friendly tone. “You can let me handle this. I know the boy, and what he says is true.”
Simon the security guard stopped in mid reach. Leonard was very intimidating, a mountain of muscle. The security guard looked up into Leonard’s face. He was easily a foot shorter than the black man, but he was one of those short people who wear their small stature as a badge of defiance.71 “These kids are coming with me.”
“I don’t tink so, Simon,” Leonard said. The tone of his voice was velvet but there was steel hidden within it.
“You can’t intimidate me,” Simon said, wavering.
“I’m not trying to intimidate you . yet,” Leonard said. He grinned, and his golden smile was ferocious. A soft rumble sounded in his deep chest, an animal growl like a hunting cat. His eyes flashed in the lightning. In the flicker of light from the sky, Brendan thought for an instant that he saw another face interposed over Leonard’s benign features. The face of a snarling lion leered hungrily down at Simon the security guard.
The smaller man took an involuntary step back. “Uh . good. Right,” he stammered. “So, you know them?”
“Absolutely,” Leonard assured him. Any hint of danger in the big man’s face had vanished. Leonard patted Simon’s shoulder and grinned hugely. “You should get back to your office. It gonna rain!”
“Good idea,” Simon agreed after the slightest hesitation. He pointed his flashlight at Brendan and said, “No more swimming! It’s dangerous around the docks. Remember that!”
Brendan nodded. “You got it! No swimming. Thank you!”
With a nod, Simon turned and walked away back toward the ferry dock.
Brendan watched him go, mouth open in surprise. He turned to Leonard. “How did you do that? Is it magic?”
“Do what, mon?” Leonard asked innocently.
“I don’t know,” Brendan said, suddenly unsure of what he’d seen. “For a second I thought you were . never mind. Never mind. I’m just glad you worked your magic on that guy.”
Leonard laughed, flashing his golden teeth. “No magic unless it be the magic of my personality.” He rolled his blue eyes and laughed again.
“I’m just glad you were here.” Brendan suddenly felt an urgent need to be under cover. The wind had picked up, and he felt a few more prickles of cold rain. “I have to get to a place called the Swan. I saw a sign and it said it was this way.”
The blue eyes held his face. “You saw the sign, did you?”
“Yeah,” Brendan went on urgently. “I don’t have time to explain, but I was told I’d be safe there. Kim needs help, and there’s this crazy woman after us with Kobolds and stuff.”
“Kobolds, is it? That sounds bad, mon. We should waste no time. You don’t need to worry. We be safe here on this part of de island. This is the Ward’s Island, after all.” Leonard chuckled deep in his chest. Leonard cradled Kim in his massive arms. “Follow me.”
As he strode around the side of the building, the rain began to pelt down. Brendan trotted at his heels, glancing back warily at the dark clouds.
“Is it far?” Brendan asked.
“It’s impossibly far if you don’t know where to look. You’d never get there in a million years, though you search and search.” The big man laughed, then suddenly stopped. “Or it could be
no farther away than your fingertips.”
They made their way around the back of the building where Leonard stopped, facing a blank wall of white boards that were peeling and chipped. “We’re here!”
Brendan looked around in confusion. “What? Where? Where are we?”
“The Swan of Liir,” Leonard explained. “De finest Faerie establishment in the West.”
“Is there a trap door or something? A tunnel?” Brendan asked. He reached out and tapped his foot on the wall. Flakes of paint were dislodged from the planks but otherwise it seemed like a solid wall.
“As I say before,” Leonard said, his voice full of mirth, “never in a million years will you find it though you search and you search. There is a trick and a pattern.” He turned and faced the wall. In a clear voice he cried, “I could use a drink!” Then he took one step sideways to his left, turned counter-clockwise once, twice, three times. Then he reached out one giant dark hand, extended a finger, and tapped the wall.
For an instant nothing happened. Then a bright tone rang out, suffusing Brendan’s being with a warm, welcoming, musical note. Leonard reached out and tapped the weathered surface of the wall. Instantly, the planks began to fold into tiny squares, revealing an empty space behind the wall that expanded and expanded like a jigsaw puzzle falling to bits. At last there was a doorway in the wall where none had been before. Light and warmth flooded out of the opening. Brendan heard the sound of voices and music.
Leonard turned to him and winked. “Never in a million years.” Leonard chuckled at Brendan’s rapt expression. “Shall we?”
Leonard held out his hand, and a shining golden handle sprouted out of the wood under his grasp. He tugged on the handle and the door swung open. Heat, noise, and honey coloured firelight washed over him. Leonard stood aside and gestured for Brendan to enter.
Brendan took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold.
69 Weirdly, Ward’s Island isn’t even an island but a part of the larger Centre Island. Why anyone might call part of an island an island boggles the mind. People who live on islands are always a bit eccentric, and by eccentric, I mean weird.
