by R J Darby
Soon he came to a case that was built into the wall. It was hard to call it a case at all since it was more of a display cabinet. There was crystal just like the others, but it was set within the stone.
"Of course!" He knelt to look within. Hard as it was to view clearly because of the swirling designs, he was certain that this was the one. It was the only one set in stone. That was what the book had said, that the magic of the elements in the stone were what would protect them until the needed time.
Gold locks blocked his way, which was a curious choice as the rest were held with iron.
"Do the fates speak to me now?" His heartbeat quickly. Only a leprechaun, and a master cobbler at that would know the sneaky ways to detach gold from a wall. It was part of his very being after all.
With his tongue wedged between his teeth (something he was often seen doing as he worked the finer details of shoes), he took out a pin. With nimble fingers, he put it not within the keyhole, but underneath the lock. With a simple twist and raise, one of the four was taken off.
That was when he heard a throaty growl.
It was a sound that was chiseled as deeply on his brain as the caverns in the coasts carved out by the water — the fear gorta.
He hurried to the door and closed it as gently as he could for fear of alerting them. As they grew nearer, though, he could hear the banging of doors being opened. He had to work quickly.
One lock was off and soon the second too, quickly followed by the third. The fourth was giving him trouble.
"Come on. Come on." The pin dropped from his slippery hands and became lodged in a crack between the tiles. His fingers were too chunky to get in.
There was no option but to press his finger against the tip and let it stab him, just do he could hook it. Rowan pushed down until it pierced the top layer, just deep enough that when he raised his hand, the pin hung there.
Wincing, he took it out and started again on the last lock. A droplet as tiny as the beads of dew on daisies first thing in the morning, rolled down his pricked finger and dropped on the floor.
The gorta picked up their speed and growls. Had they smelled it? They were certainly coming that way!
He tried more viciously then, bending the pin. The lock flew off! Smacking a gorta in the eye just as it burst through the door.
There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. It had seen him. More than likely, it had caught his scent.
He cracked open the crystal and reached for the three treasures... except there were two and a piece of paper. The crystal shut behind him. Through the translucent shield, he could see the gorta. The crystal cracked as it punched; exposed bones rattling on the cover. A couple more, and it would be through.
Rowan wrapped his arms around the two treasures and a scrap of paper as tightly as if they were his wife. He prayed that she was safe and that by some miracle, he would be able to get to her. Rowan knew that she would not leave without him. Not for anything. Gorta and Caoranach included.
With his eyes scrunched shut, a curious sensation came over him. He felt as though he was falling. On instinct, he opened his eyes, just as the gorta cracked through, cutting its arm on the crystal and swatting for him.
His light-headed state had the beast looking as though it was further and further away. Was he going to pass out, he wondered. It would certainly be a preferable way to be eaten than conscious.
The gorta really was far off...
It hit him then. The walls were moving! The very stones around him were moving, making him slide backward and shutting the way to the gorta. In seconds they were nothing more than a dot in the distance, and then they were gone.
Rowan was churned out onto the streets. He didn’t want to consider which parts of who were sticking to him as he landed. The gorta had passed this area – all but one. One that was fast approaching Naimh on the wall. Rowan bolted towards the ladder just in time to see the battle between banshee bloodline and beastly gorta began.
Naimh could not focus on anything other than the gorta in front of her. How could she fight something like that? If she went for the ankles, she was sure to fall. Anything about the waist would put her directly in its grasp. She was a strong woman, but a gorta's grip was like putting a foot in a bear trap. The face was even more worrying. Even with half of its teeth knocked out, those jaws were a fearsome sight, maybe even more so.
She took another step back. If she could knock it off, then there might be a chance. How though?
"Get back!" She shouted, not knowing why. It was not as though those things could be reasoned with. They didn't understand anything beyond hunger and death. How Caoranach controlled them was unfathomable.
It kept walking until Naimh felt a rock in the wall shudder underfoot. Her head spun back, seeing only the greenery that had seemed so safe before. Falling on, it did not seem like a way to embrace nature.
She grabbed the rock and hauled it up, knowing that it was a choice between certain death or possible death.
It came loose but was still connected by a little miss that would not budge. She had a thought, but she would have to be quick about it.
From her pocket, she took a silver coin and jammed it in the moss, so it cut through. The rock came away, and she lifted it.
Her aim had to be perfect, and she knew that.
She threw the rock, and it hit the gorta in the side of the face. It stumbled back as the rock fell to inside the walls of the Kingdom.
As it looked back, still flapping jaw hanging by its sinews, it lunged. She covered her face then heard a crack. She uncovered her eyes a shade, peeking through the slits in her fingers.
The gorta toppled from the wall as the sound of a rock falling drew her attention.
"Rowan!" She cried, hurrying to the ladder, not even bothering to take the rungs and sliding straight down the sides.
"I told you all that stone skipping was necessary for my aim. You said I'd never use it."
She leaped into his arms. "I'll never nag at you for skimming stones again."
They embraced, cut short by Rowan running for the horses with her hand in his. The horses were going frantic except for one which they jumped onto and escaped the city.
Its graceful hooves pelted on, and for seven miles, it kept the pace before dropping to a cantor.
Once safe, it's long black mane shook out in the wind, and it reared up - bucking them both off.
"Whoa!"
"Oof!"
They both landed on the ground with a thud, rubbing the back of their heads. As Naimh ran her fingers through her hair to untangle it, the strangest sight unfolded.
The horse started to walk with bent knees at the back legs. Then it sat on its bottom completely. It's body rolled and twisted. It snorted and whinnied.
It was transformed into a man with long black hair. A cowardly Pooka!
"Thank you for the safe transit." He laughed before strolling away, leaving them both on their rump.
Chapter Eleven
Green eyes on the prize
"Let's see what we have then," said Naimh as she leaned forward.
Rowan finally unlocked his hold on the treasures and uncurled the piece of paper.
The first of the treasures was a jewel of the brightest green that either of them had ever seen and within it were swirled patterns. The longer Naimh looked, the clearer the image became. Selkie swam in the eye of the jewel; hundreds of them encapsulated in a tiny world. Her breath caught in her throat at the beauty of the magic within.
"Let me see." Rowan set the paper down, unable to read its code. Taking the luminous gem, he too looked inside. The patterns had dispersed and started to reform, showing him to the underwater world.
"I don't know what this magic is, but I am sure that it harnesses something powerful from the sea."
Rowan turned it over in his hand, rocking it between his palms. Nothing swayed within, but he was sure that one of the Selkie looked his way, so he set it
down quickly.
"I think it is best if you carry that. I don't like the idea of many sea folks in my bag or pocket."
She snickered, "where's the strong man who saved me from a gorta gone?"
"To throw stones, but not on their water."
She put it in her pocket where her silver coin had returned, a lesser-known trick of the leprechaun. They would always carry two coins ready to make a trade with foolish people. One was a silver coin that would always find a way back to its place in the trickster's pocket. The second coin was a gold one, which once traded, and the offending leprechaun was out of sight, would turn to dry leaves. They had come in handy on a number of occasions.
"And what is this?" Naimh looked at an orb of gold. It was covered in springs, sprockets, and secret areas, the kind of thing that would only be solvable by master cobblers and locksmiths. Or by accident. Catching the right piece, it unfolded itself into a dagger!
“I’m not entirely sure. That we can work out, it’s this map thing that I can’t get my head around.” He scoured the paper again, but it seemed to make even less sense than the first time. He frowned and flattened it out on the grass.
“It must be a sort of code.” There were many shapes, none looking like rivers or walkways.
“But where does it lead? Or is this the third of the treasures?” His eyes held promise, but he was met with a look he had not seen in a while. It was the one Naimh gave him whenever he stayed out too long to help put the children to bed or on that one occasion where he had decided that a pet beetle would be a nice addition to the family. It had been, for all of about ten minutes.
“Don’t be a barnacle.”
“At least I’m not as stupid as a human.”
“Not yet, anyway. There’s time.” She winked, a little of her former sparkle returning. Their laughter came as naturally as the breeze flows between the trees.
“What about seeking out a Merrow?” Rowan tapped on his lower lip as they packed away.
“It isn’t a bad idea. I wouldn’t know where to find one in these parts.”
“We could just follow the river. There’s bound to be one somewhere along the way.”
Naimh stood and dusted the grass off her dress. “I think we should eat first. We’ll need our strength.”
“Hmm?”
“In case we bump into a Kelpie.”
Rowan hadn’t considered that. Kelpies generally didn’t take to the waters near the Quiet Place. Suddenly, food sounded like a much better thing to do than face-off with a water power of that caliber. At least he had something to bargain with the Merrow to get what they needed. Whether they would be able to accept a secret in exchange for information, that was something they would need to test.
Rowan had often traded with Merrow. They would accept secrets or trinkets in exchange for their wares. Usually, he would give them things that he had tricked the humans out of or had found when taking the journey to the trading towns. Thinking about it, he searched his pockets. How he wished he had grabbed one of those golden locks from the crystal container. He chuckled to himself. He must have been very frightened to forget to grab the gold on the way out. It was against all instincts.
The two found berries and began the long walk towards the Forest of Phantoms, following the curves of the river as they did.
Naimh thought about how far they had traveled, and indeed how far they had come. The idea of going into the Forest of Phantoms was not something that most would consider, even within the fairy community. A sort of buzzing was filling her, though. Not an unpleasant one but more like the hum of bees as they pollinate flowers ready to bring fresh blooms and make the sweetest of honey with their nectar. The forest was a place full of banshee, banshee who would be at least a little bit like her.
“Do you think I will be able to learn more about my heritage?” She asked some way up the river.
Rowan was dragging a stick behind him, for no reason in particular except that he had been using it for hiking and felt like it might be worth keeping. He would never admit it, but it had crossed his mind that if a Kelpie or Selkie tried any funny business, he might give them a whack – then run from the water’s edge as quickly as possible.
“Who?”
“The banshee.”
Rowan paused, knocking over a bull rush that had snapped with his stick. “I suppose so.” The thought had not crossed his mind since everything had been done in such a haze. Quite truthfully, he had not had time to think at all since hearing the alert that the gorta were coming. Having a head full of free space rather than pesky thoughts had been quite satisfying. He had begun to feel like his old self.
The idea of banshee put an end to that.
“Is everything quite alright?”
He continued on his way, eyes kept forward. “I’ve never met a banshee.”
“Neither have I.”
“I’ve heard they are highly respected among the wealthy families but... well they are an omen of death. Do you suppose there will be many of them?”
A smirk pushed at Naimh’s lips. She could have told him that they were a peaceful race just doing their duty, or perhaps that it would be natural that there were many as the Forest of Phantoms was their home. That didn’t seem like leprechaun like behavior however, and she hadn’t pulled a prank in ages.
“Oh, hundreds, I expect.” She skipped along, not needed to look to know that her husband was as wide-eyed as a human finding a hundred matching scarves when he expected just one on the trees.
Chapter Twelve
What A Merrow Can Tell You
For somewhere that inhabited so much evil, the lake was truly a sight to behold. Its waters glistened like crystals refreshing themselves in the sunlight, and the shallows were many schools of fish. They started about in a happy collection, turning this way and that and completely unbothered by the presence of the leprechaun, and they went about their day with seemingly no care.
It would have been easy to catch them as looking through the river was as easy as gazing through glass. Rowan cupped his hands to take a drink only to find the little critters splashing out of his grasp. He chuckled but stopped as he thought about how much his children would have liked this place. Although it had not been many days since they had passed, he was already starting to feel a little differently about the situation. Memories of his wee babies still made him sad, as could only be expected, but now it also gave him strength, a reason to push forth and look at the world with fresh eyes.
It was odd that such beautiful waters ran into such darkness.
As if something was finally playing into their fortunes, the two leprechauns discovered a Merrow after only a couple of hours. The sun has been high in the sky, and she had obviously come out of the water to bask its light.
Merrows are curious, water-dwelling creatures, not to be confused with mermaids. While mermaids have long fish-like tails in a variety of colors, Merrows have legs. Both are thought equally beautiful and have captivated the hearts of seafarers and fishermen. This was far too away from open waters to be worrying about that kind of thing. To be completely honest, Naimh was quite glad about that. She did not fancy running into any humans, particularly ones that might smell of fish. Now, she was a good cook, and her milk baked mackerel would bring families from miles around just by the smell. It was different with humans though. The stench of fish clung to them rather like the breath of an eel, dead and repulsive. It was most disconcerting to hear that so many of the furry creatures of the land took an interest in carnal relationships with the mortals. She's supposed that in the case of a Merrow, it was a little different. They were generally more curious than sexual, but the same could not be said for the male counterparts who desired to join them on the land so desperately.
“Good day, Merrow!” called Rowan, gaining the attention of a woman you had been combing her fingers through her hair as it dried in waves. She paused, blinking and gave a charming smile. Yes, Naimh could appreciate
why exactly the human males wanted him (and especially the mermen, frightfully ugly creatures they were), but she did not appreciate the doe-eyed look from her husband of his eyes linked with the water creature.
“Buffoon,” she muttered.
“I see that a leprechaun has walked into my little pool,” spoke the Merrow in a voice which stripped of sweetness, reminding Naimh that too much honey will rot the teeth. Her husband didn't have to worry about that; however, because if he did not stop staring at the mischievous seafarer, then his wife would knock them right out of his jaw. Perhaps he could give them to the creature to hang on a necklace or something.
It was time that Naimh led the conversation. She removed the pelt from her lips with great difficulty and forced onto her face a smile. No wonder all of the male leprechauns in the village like to travel to get the latest news from Merrow. Oh! How she would have to give him attention if only she had known! There were stories of course, which she had not realized that the woman would be this beautiful.
“We are looking to make a trade,” she said simply.
Pushing her shoulders together to make the most of an ample cleavage, the Merrow giggled. “Right the business, are we? I had hoped that you might want to come and play with me. It is so very hot today.”
Naimh could see that her husband was practically panting like a dog.
“I'm afraid we rather in a rush. We need to know the location outlined on this map.” There was hesitation. Naimh had to slap her husband on the arm to get him to hand over the bit of paper.
The girl with the long hair from him with what looked to be a caress of the side of his hand and Naimh growled somewhere deep in the canals of her throat. The Merrow's lip twitched up, taking great pleasure in the reaction.
She pondered the note for a short while.
“Hmm. I could help, for I do know where it leads to. Though, I will have to give you a general name of the area as the main pinpointed area of the map appears to be one that most can't enter. As you can see then, no map has ever been drawn from within it. Ethereal or otherwise.” She gave a smug smile. Merrow always knew what was going on in the world first, and making people aware that they knew more than they were letting on was a great satisfaction to them.
