Oak & Mistletoe

by McCauley, J. Z. N.

  Catherine hadn’t noticed anything like that, but she went over the last few days, or even weeks. She shook her head in answer, and while Bowen continued to think, Catherine watched the green grass, enjoying the sunlight flicker across it. She imagined what it would feel like to bathe in a pool of sunlight. She felt re-energized. Then it hit her.

  “The sun . . .”

  Bowen turned in attention, “What about it?”

  “I’ve been very aware of the sun, at least since that day Conall was released.” Saying his name made her want to vomit, but she continued on. “It wasn’t so much at first, but it’s been getting more aggressive. I crave it. All I could think about today in the forest was the sun. Every light inside drew me to it,” she stated.

  Bowen didn’t say anything at first, just stood in thought for a moment. “What happens when you stand in the sunlight?”

  “I feel good, strong and satisfied. As if . . .” she looked around as if literally searching for the word, “as if it gave me actual energy,” she said.

  “I think then, you should concentrate on that,” Bowen decided.

  Catherine stood with the orb in her hand, enjoying the warmth it gave her. She tried to think of how the sun felt and imagined spreading the warmth throughout her body. “Okay,” she looked at Bowen, “How do we perform the curse?”

  Bowen lightly clapped his hands together, “The skyphos will need to be present. It connects old with new, the cosmos with us.”

  “Do I have to recite anything?”

  “No, it’s more like the curse, as such a powerful one, remembers itself. Arlana attached it to you, so you’ll find it just fine.”

  Catherine was doubtful. “Try again,” he assured.

  Catherine held her arms out, and looked again. All she felt was the warmth resonating from it. She closed her eyes to block out the external distractions, and remembered the great oak tree shooting out of the ground. Thinking of its power, she recalled the jealous priestess who harnessed it. Her thoughts took a dark turn and Catherine was reminded of her buried anger. The hateful image of Conall appeared, and she trembled with rage.

  Bowen waited patiently, watching her small twitches of discomfort.

  Catherine remembered seeing Conall in the field, Kathleen captured next to him. She wanted to stop then, but her mind pushed forward. “No,” she mumbled at first, “I don’t want to see it again!” she shouted.

  Bowen grew uneasy as he helplessly watched.

  Catherine saw Kathleen die again before her eyes. She lost all control of her connection with the star and jumped away, causing it to fall from her hands and roll in the grass. Bowen went to her side and put his arms around her shivering shoulders. She wept uncontrollably. “Bowen, I can’t do this,” she cried, “not if it’s going to bring it all back!”

  “It showed it to you because it’s your reason for doing this, your driving force. But you must let it go; it only makes you vulnerable,” he explained.

  “I know that!” she said harshly, “But I can’t let it go.” She shrugged him off her.

  “Why do you keep pushing me away? I tell you multiple times that I love you. You never say it back, but you care what happens to me. Have I been wrong to believe there’s more, Catherine?” Catherine turned away. Bowen grabbed her arm gently but forcefully and stepped in front of her. “Let me be with you, Catherine. Talk to me! Let me help you, I just want you to be happy again. What can I do? No more silence! What on earth is happening?”

  “I don’t know, Bowen! What do you want from me? You love me? Do you want to know who it is you claim to love, who I really am? Fine!” she ripped her arm away from him. “Will you still love me when you hear that I hate myself, that I hate you, and everyone! I’m filled with hatred. It’s burning me from the inside out. But if I quench it I’ll have nothing left. I’ll lose my mind. And the fear, oh there’s so much fear! I hate even Kathleen for this,” she paused and looked up at Bowen through her tears. He stood still, quietly weathering her outburst.

  “I hate her for going back there without telling me. I hate her for dying and leaving me alone!”

  “You can’t blame Kathleen for being gone, Catherine,” Bowen reasoned.

  “I know it’s madness, but I feel like she should have been able to stay with me even after death. You can’t understand,” she sobbed.

  Bowen said in a calming voice, “I know what it’s like to lose a family member. I told you I lost everyone in mine—”

  “That’s terrible, but you don’t know! You can’t know what this is like for me. Losing someone—losing your literal other half. I can never be whole again, Bowen. You can’t fix this for me. No one can.” She wiped at her face profusely.

  “Stop this hatred, Catherine, you must stop it! You’ll destroy yourself ! I can’t lose you, especially not like this, please. Conall suffered such a loss, and—”

  “Don’t!” Catherine interrupted, glaring at him. “Don’t you dare try to defend him to me,” she practically spit the words out.

  “Even after knowing what he went through. That he’s insane.

  It doesn’t matter. I have no pity for him. He still did what he did! He still killed my sister!” Catherine fell where she stood and sobbed viciously in the palms of her hands, gulping for air.

  Bowen sat down and put his hands on her shaking shoulders. He held her closely, his nose in her hair, and closed his eyes trying to soak up the sorrow. He wanted badly to relieve her of this suffering. It tore at his heart to see her rage and weep in such a way. She had finally poured herself out to him. Bowen didn’t know if she could ever heal, but he hoped she would let him help her.

  The two returned to the house, and Catherine fell into a deep sleep. Bowen stayed in the room with her, sitting up with his back against the wall, watching over her.

  The next morning Catherine awoke early at dawn feeling rested, but emotionally dry. She was alone. Lifting her legs up and over the edge of the bed, she stood and walked out of the room.

  “Oh!” she yelped as she bumped into Bowen’s broad chest.

  “I’m sorry,” he smiled down at her.

  “What were you just standing at the door for?” she asked, rubbing her face.

  “I was about to come back in when you opened it,” he answered, laughing.

  “I see.”

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes, I think so. You?”

  “I couldn’t,” he said.

  Catherine felt a pang of worry, “Why not?”

  Bowen shrugged. “Catherine,” he led her backward to sit on the bed, “Mary gave me this,” he held out a piece of paper.

  Catherine took the folded paper and opened it. The contents revealed a message asking for help. It was signed—her heart stopped—by Danny. Conall had him. Her head snapped up, “Where did this come from?”

  “Mary said it was left at the door. They must have delivered it in the night,” Bowen answered.

  “Danny,” she said slowly, and eased herself back down, wanting to cry. She recognized the handwriting now. They must have forced him to write something.

  “They know where we are,” Bowen said. Catherine felt goosebumps crawl up her arm.

  She started to ask how, but thought better of it.

  Bowen couldn’t bear to watch her face crumble any longer. “I’m going to leave for a bit.”

  Catherine nodded absently. Danny was captured and was somewhere in the woods with an army of ancient druids and the madman who killed their sister. She tried to convince herself that he would be fine, but she couldn’t manage to believe it for longer than a few seconds.

  The front door closed, and she snapped out of her thoughts. “Bowen?” she said. She rushed out to find him. Bowen turned when she caught up with him. “Where are you going?” she stood defiantly.

  Bowen hesitated. “I have to do something that you’re not going to like.”

  “You’re not going to run into a tree again, are you?” she asked, remembering the first t
ime he said that to her.

  “No, I’m going to turn myself over to him,” he replied. Bowen was completely serious.

  Catherine froze. “To him?”

  “Yes. If I can get through to him, I’ll tell him that I’m giving up. I’ll tell him you’re dead so he won’t come after you, and he may even let Danny go. You can cast the curse while I’m distracting him. The army won’t leave without him.”

  “Are you crazy? I can’t do this alone! Conall will see through you. He will only torture Danny in front of you before he tortures you,” she said.

  “Yes. But if there’s a chance I might be able to stop all of this with my life, shouldn’t I try?”

  “No,” she said angrily, clenching her fists at her sides. “We’re in this together. Don’t go off trying to make heroic gestures! I can’t lose you too, Bowen. I won’t survive it.”

  “So you do love me?”

  “Yes, I love you! You’re so stupid!” she burst out, and Bowen smiled. She bit her lip.

  With a yearning look, he stepped in and swooped his arm around her waist firmly as they released in a passionate kiss. Catherine ran her hands wildly through his hair and down his neck. She longed for his touch, and let herself bask in their embrace.

  “I deeply love you, Bowen,” she whispered when their lips were satisfied. Bowen was blissful, and caressed the side of her jaw. Her full lips made him want to kiss her again, but he stopped, remembering their dire straits.

  “They’re coming today, Catherine. Can you do this?” he asked gently.

  Catherine somehow knew they were coming today without him telling her. Her usual warning signs where she could feel the chills on her arms, and the bad feeling in her stomach, were there and going strong. The message from Danny was the red flag.

  “I’ll have to,” she answered, giving a doubtful smile.

  Bowen reached down and locked his hand in hers. “We’ll be together either way,” he said, and Catherine squeezed his hand.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE SUN ROSE over the horizon behind the cover of gloomy clouds. Catherine wondered if the weather was marking their impending doom.

  Mary rushed to the door and yelled for them to come back into the house just then. She shut the door behind her. “Keep the gloom away, my dears!” she encouraged.

  “Mary, they’re coming,” said Catherine.

  Mary looked from Bowen to her, “Save us then, Caty. I’ll be here willing you to find the strength.”

  Catherine simply smiled.

  Bowen left the room briefly and returned with the star bulb and skyphos in hand. “Keep in the house, and don’t come out until we return,” he told Mary firmly as he handed the bulb to Catherine.

  “Aye, you won’t see me cross the threshold, old man.”

  Bowen nodded affectionately, “Take care,” he said.

  “Mary, thank you for believing in me,” Catherine said as Bowen pulled the door shut after them.

  Leaving Mary safely in her cottage somehow made Catherine feel better, at least for now. Bowen led her to the ruins where they sat on the ground, waiting. Catherine tried to practice using her power, and strengthening her mind to push past her unstable anger, while Bowen watched for the coming army. He returned from a long surveying walk, and rested his legs next to her. It was noon by now, and they had seen no sign of their enemies.

  Catherine took a break and watched Bowen resting his head beside her. His brown curls covered part of his face as he hung his head between his propped up long legs. Maneuvering herself to see him better, she watched as he sprang up when her hair brushed the top of his hand.

  “Hm?” he gazed at her happily.

  “How can you be happy right now?” she asked.

  “Because I’m with you,” he answered.

  “Yes, but we might be waiting for our death to come . . .”

  Bowen didn’t let this phase him. “At least I’ll die with you,”

  he said. Then he took her forearm and looked her closely in the face. “When the curse is cast, don’t worry about me.”

  “What will happen to you?”

  “It will be like before, stifling. But I’ll be happy knowing you’re going to live,” he said with a small smile. “I would marry you if I was free.”

  Catherine blushed, but her heart was heavy. She secretly decided that even if it was risky, she wasn’t going to leave him. Curse or no curse. But Bowen could read it on her face.

  “No, you must leave,” he said firmly, and she was speechless.

  “Catherine, my love, I need you to live. Live on after all of this, and live well for both of us,” he said, his eyes sorrowful. He caressed her face, then ran his hand through her silky hair, sending shivers of pleasure through Catherine.

  “Even though I walked this earth for centuries before you were born, now I can’t imagine a world without you.” He paused and smiled down at her. “I’ve always loved you,” he half whispered.

  Tears welled up and began to fall down Catherine’s cheeks. “Even when you didn’t know me?” she chuckled through her sobs.

  “Yes, even then. Because you were always meant for me. I happily give my freedom as the price to pay for your future.”

  “But if we can’t be together . . . what makes you think I want a future like that? What if I can’t bear it? What am I supposed to do?”

  Bowen furrowed his brow. “You’ll live without me, just as I will without you. The only difference is you will have a happy life, and die a peaceful death. I won’t have that luxury. I will live on until the end of times when all of this is burned up. But I’m keeping my sanity together because you’re still here in front of me.”

  “I don’t think I can do this without you,” she cried.

  “You aren’t doing it alone, I’ll be standing next to you the whole time,” he said reassuringly.

  “No, I mean I don’t think I can move on without you, knowing you’re somewhere here suffering. Knowing I could still see you.” She slumped over, feeling overwhelmed, “What if I choose not to go through with this? Will you hate me?” she looked up at him with pleading eyes.

  “I could never hate you, Catherine. If you chose it, I would fight with you, and die with you. I only want to be with you.” he replied, keeping his gaze set on her. “Don’t give up now.”

  “No,” she said simply as Bowen wiped her tears away. She took a deep breath and released it. Bowen’s face was mere inches from her own, and she eagerly leaned in to taste his lips just once more. Catherine didn’t hold back, and completely melted when he responded with matching fervor.

  After a few moments, she pulled away. “Bowen, I want to memorize everything about you, every little thing. Your features, your mannerisms,” she told him.

  “I want the same. I’ve sealed so much away already. The way you laugh, or how your cheeks blush when I catch you off guard.” He smiled, and Catherine didn’t shy away. “Everything, so when the time comes, and I find myself alone and hidden away from the rest of the world, I can imagine what you would say to me, not just remember the things you have said to me. I can keep you with me. I can hold you in my mind for the rest of time. I want to remember everything Catherine, the scent of your hair, the way it falls down and touches your face and shoulders. I love everything that is you. The ground you walk on. I spent years watching you before we met, longing for you, and I’ve enjoyed every second being in your presence. If it were possible to be absorbed by you, I would be. Each random and deliberate touch we’ve shared, they will all stay with me, and help me live through forever.”

  Bowen stopped and looked around. “It’s time to go meet the army. You can do this. We will succeed, and all will go back to how it should be, no regrets, no sorrow. If you’re happy, I’ll be happy,” he said with a sweet smile that Catherine hoped she would always remember.

  She stood then, and Bowen took her hand to lead the way. They walked through the ruins and abruptly stopped when they spotted something. Catherine stared at the dar
k mass of men and women spread across the field and distant hills. Amazed and terrified, she stood in awe. The armies seemed to be in three large groups, like ants lined up in formation.

  “There’s something wrong,” Bowen observed.

  “How do you know?”

  “They should be one, but they’re not. Today is the day, but they’re not coming for us just yet, they’re arguing amongst themselves.”

  Catherine thought she could see a lone figure, Conall. She breathed in deeply and reassured herself with the thought that Kathleen would be avenged soon.

  “We need to do this now,” Bowen said.

  Catherine nodded, and turned her body to face east precisely as Bowen directed. Looking far out at the gloomy day, she longed for the sun, feeling cold and weak without it. Then she took the bulb of starlight and held it closely to her face. The warmth moved from her palms and down into her bones. It touched her chilled cheeks. The light from the bulb was small at the moment, but strong. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Somewhere deep within her she pulled a string. Something clicked. She pulled another string and continued. With each pluck the light grew brighter. She could feel the heat rising, and saw some of it leaking in through her tightly shut eyelids. Her fingers clasped against the crystal which rapidly became hotter with each string she pulled. She was getting closer.

  “Catherine, they’re fighting,” Bowen said. Conall’s armies had clashed. The violence was barbaric, and Bowen felt the old pull to help the wounded.

  Catherine heard but didn’t respond. Perspiration dripped from her forehead.

  She pulled the final string. Suddenly the bulb burned red hot, and shone bright white light through her fingers. She opened her eyes and saw the power in her hands. Pushing down her fear, she tried to focus on the energy soaring through. Just when the burning was no longer tolerable, the bulb began to shake uncontrollably, which caused her to drop it. But instead of falling straight to the ground the star bulb catapulted itself a distance away, and the incredible light she witnessed in the black fairy woods spread for an instant to form into a single streak, then dropped and shed into millions of sparkling crystals on the grass. With a loud noise, the freed starlight shot out like a cannon ball up to the clouded sky. The noise lingered, seemed to grow louder for a moment, then ceased completely. Bowen and Catherine uncovered their ears as they drew their gaze back downward. Catherine was sure her fingerprints were gone, and she looked at her burned hands with worry.