The Lasts and the Hall of Mirrors

by Tabitha Scott

  “… she were a good old dame. Always met you with a smile. She were a fixture of O’Connell street and the north side. Never knew why she moved over to the Ha-penny bridge, that were two years ago, better pickings maybe. She helped many of the younger ones, some of those are here now, Precipice, Clara and Joseph are all here…”

  Precipice had only ever known that Old Straw was at Ha-penny bridge, she was astonished to learn that the old lady had previously been a regular of O’Connell street. Why had she moved? The Dublin High Street had really good pickings, the only reason the girls stayed away from there was because it was a bit close to their bolthole, the souterrain, and Precipice thought it would be too easy for the place to be found if it were close to where they frequented. In fact, it had been Old Straw that had planted that thought in her mind, even though the old woman didn’t know about the ancient structure.

  “If ye find a safe place, don’t be blabbering about it all over town, or it won’t stay safe fir long. Keep yourselves a little ways away from it too, so it’s not too easy for others to follow yu there.” Old Straw had known a lot about living on the street.

  As Hartley Brokenose came down from the pulpit having said his piece about Old Straw, Precipice and Clara were called up. Sister Margaret had warned them this would happen when they first arrived, apparently many of the Nortside gang recognised Clara and Precipice as two of Old Straw’s closest associates and thought it appropriate that the girls speak, also, though Sister Margaret had kept it a secret, the two girls were bank rolling part of the funeral, so Precipice reckoned that they couldn’t get out of it.

  Both girls moved nervously to the pulpit as all eyes focused on them. In her hand, Precipice clutched a piece of the splintered mirror, in case they had to make a quick escape, she still worried that she and her sister might be snatched by government social workers, and was determined not to let that happen.

  As the two girls stood there in front of the crowd, Precipice found her voice had left her, until Clara kicked her in the leg.

  “Old Straw was a good old soul. She were our good friend.” Precipice paused as she searched her mind for something else to say.

  “She had friend crows, who were always friendly too,” Clara piped up to fill the silence.

  Precipice nodded appreciatively to her sister. “When Clara and I first came on to the street, it were Old Straw who showed us the ways of how to look after ourselves. She taught us how to kick a dodgie in the nuts and run as hard as ye could…”

  A few laughs erupted from the audience, though Precipice noticed the look of wide eyed shock on Sister Margaret’s face.

  “Sorry, Sister, but it were true. She taught us who to keep away from; where to get the best pickings; where to go when the weather got bitter cold; where and when to hide. Lots of stuff that you needs to know on the street.”

  “We’ll miss Old Straw, she were a good mate.” The tears that had come to Precipice and Clara’s eyes stopped them from being able to say anything more, but a kindly nod from Sister Margaret told them that they didn’t need to say any more. They moved back to their seats.

  As the girl’s took their place, Sein the pub owner came up to the pulpit.

  “Me aunt’s real name was Shonna Brown, I were named for her when I was born. Like many, our family were poor, it were only because of a car accident, that smashed me leg and left me partly crippled, that I had the good fortune to have enough money to buy the pub in Temple Bar a year and a half ago. If you’re going to be hit by a car, make sure it’s a Mercedes, or some such,” he winked.

  “I asked me aunt countless times to join us in the pub, but she had been living on the street for so many years, she said that she were used to it, and had to help look after the young kids, like Precipice and Clara, who just spoke. Still, on cold nights, she had a warm place to go and hot food when she wanted, and a cot to lie down on in the back. Like Hartley and the girls said, she were a kind hearted soul…”

  Precipice and Clara were astonished, they had never known that Sein and Old Straw were related! In fact they had never realised that Old Straw had any living family at all.

  “… two years ago, when she disappeared from O’Connell Street, we had thought she might have perished, as it were a terrible cold winter, but a few weeks later she turned up at the Ha-penny bridge where she were a fixture until someone beat her black and blue…”

  Precipice noted that some of the Southside gang squirmed in their seats when Old Straw’s beating was mentioned. It was the Russian, a Southside drug boss that had beaten the old woman, though he disappeared never to be seen again. Still, the Southside gang carried some guilt by association, and everyone knew it. The other thing that struck Precipice was the second mention of O’Connell street. Why had Old Straw moved? It made no sense, especially for someone as stuck in her ways as Old Straw had been.

  “… I know that some here have paid for a plot of earth and a headstone for me aunt and it were very kindly of you to do so. Since that’s been done, I’ve spoken to the Sister, and on me aunt’s behalf I’ve made a donation to help those that live on the streets of Dublin, she would have liked that. I encourage any others that can to do the same.”

  Precipice view of Sein as a prince was only strengthened when she heard his words.

  Chapter 21: At the Graveside

  Sein had told everyone that a wake would be held at his pub in Temple Bar that evening. Everyone was invited who wanted to go. Soon afterward, when the mass was ended, everyone moved out onto the street to start the march to the cemetery. It was terribly overcast and seemed almost like dusk, though there were several hours of sunlight yet in the day, as it was only nearing midday. Thankfully, there was no rain.

  Goldenbridge cemetery had actually been closed for over a hundred years, and had only recently reopened. Mara and Tanick Last had been amongst the first of the new burials when the cemetery had been rededicated. The closure of so long ago had in part been because the early processions drew complaints from nearby Richmond barracks. The barracks were no longer used as such nowadays, and the church wasn’t that far from the cemetery, so it had been decided by the Northside gang that Old Straw would be honoured with a bikie procession. Sister Margaret was invited to ride behind Hartley Brokenose on his Triumph, which she accepted. In reality, the procession moved at a leisurely enough pace that most of the funeral goers could walk along beside the Hearse.

  As the procession came level with the old barracks, the bikies stopped – and everyone else with them – and they revved their engines for a full minute, it was a way of thumbing their noses to the restrictions of the past. Everyone cheered when that was done. It was not that solemn an affair, people were joking and laughing as they went, telling stories of Straw Hat, of her antics and her strange ways.

  As everyone filed into the high-walled cemetery, Father Nowak took charge and marshalled everyone around the grave site under the yew tree. The girls, not liking the crowd, stayed well back on its fringe, still close enough to hear the service though.

  “Look there, Precipice.” Clara was pointing into one of the groves of nearby trees. Squinting in that direction, Precipice caught sight of what Clara had noticed, there in the branches were a pair of tree spirits. Looking about Precipice thought that she could see many pairs of eyes watching from hidden places.

  “And there, look there, over on the other side of all the people, it’s some of the Aes Sídhe,” Precipice noted. It was their beautiful faces, and the sheen of the long hair of the ancient warriors that gave them away, despite the modern suits they were wearing to the event.

  “Aye, I wonder why they’re here?” Clara questioned.

  “No doubt they are here to pay their respects, young Miss Last.” From the shadows behind them Túathal stepped forward to stand beside the girls.

  “Is that why you’re here?” Clara took hold of the old warrior’s hand, as naturally as if he had been her father.

  “Aye, many others have come too. Though only
a few of those can be seen by mortals, no doubt your witch senses have let you see a few of those.”

  “We see some of the tree spirits, Túathal,” Clara confirmed. “But there are other eyes too.”

  “Perhaps you will learn who those others are as time progresses.”

  The trio watched in silence for a time as the ceremony went on. A handful of crows, had lit into the trees, and that seemed appropriate to many in the crowd who gestured in their direction. However, Túathal pointed to something in the opposite direction, at the edge of the crowd. There half hidden behind a tree, was the wraith of Old Straw, watching her own funeral.

  Precipice and Clara took a sharp intake of breath each when they saw her. She was quite some distance from the girls, but as her eyes swept the crowd, she saw them looking at her and briefly waved to them, and the girls returned the gesture.

  “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” the priest intoned in the background. Then as he threw a piece of earth on the shroud of Old Straw’s body, which had been lowered into the ground by some of the Northside crew, something happened to the wraith. She faded, ever so much. Other of the funeral goers followed the priest’s actions, and with every handful of earth that was thrown, the wraith of Old Straw grew fainter and fainter.

  “It’s holy earth, after these long two years, her body will finally be able to rest,” Túathal explained.

  “Two years?” Clara asked.

  “Aye, Old Straw died alone of exposure just off O’Connell street, fully two years ago, her body was never laid to rest, as she had slid herself into the sewer for warmth, there it was taken by the Phantom Queen.”

  “What?” Precipice asked.

  “Just watch.” He pointed back to the wraith whose fading form was being transformed into a cloud of blackness, from which another form emerged, one that was not quite of this earth, one that the girls had seen before, a swirling tide of magics clung around her as the Morrígan stood in Old Straw Hat’s stead.

  “It seems that you were never left alone as you had supposed, dear Precipice. The body and spirit of Old Straw worked under the Phantom Queen’s bidding.”

  “But she ate food and drank and slept with us over those two years,” Precipice objected. “I don’t understand.”

  As they watched, the Morrígan transformed once more, this time into a large matriarchal crow. She swooped in toward the grave site, picked up a piece of earth, and dropped it in to where Old Straw now peacefully lay. Then the bird took flight and, with the rest of the crow flock, left the cemetery behind.

  Precipice looked up to where Túathal had been with many questions on the edge of her mind, but he was gone and Clara was looking at her empty hand.

  A call to readers:

  I hope you’ve enjoyed the second book of the Last sisters. If you have, I hope you’ll say so. Indie writers rely on your reviews for getting their books ‘out there’. If you feel you’ve enjoyed this book please leave a review on Amazon or a rating in Goodreads, please share your enjoyment with others.

  Acknowledgements:

  First of all, a big thank you to my friend Angelika Rust, who continues to be an excellent beta reader/editor of my work. Angelika is also an excellent fantasy writer of her own right, and I highly recommend her books, to be found at https://angelikarust.wordpress.com/

  I took the cost of Irish funerals from this article https://www.independent.ie/irish-news/news/revealed-irelands-most-expensive-graveyard-plots-with-cost-reaching-up-to-32k-34923039.html

  Oh, here’s a cool listing of Irish slang that I made use of https://www.smartling.com/blog/70-irish-slang-words-phrases-you-need-to-know/

  This article was particularly useful in understanding pauper burials in modern day Ireland, https://www.thejournal.ie/paupers-funerals-2699366-Apr2016/

  I learnt about the Sisters of Mercy involvement with Macpaths from this website http://sistersofmercy.ie/what-we-do/anti-human-trafficking-against-child-trafficking/mecpaths-campaign/ and about Crosscare from here https://www.crosscare.ie/

  Goldenbridge cemetery was rededicated in May 2017, to allow new burials there. https://www.glasnevintrust.ie/funeral-services/downloads/Goldenbridge-Booklet_7.pdf

  I refreshed my knowledge of sacred trees from a Wikipedia article https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Celtic_sacred_trees

  A lot of my other research came from Wikipedia. Thanks to the ‘Fans of Urban Fantasy’ Facebook group for suggestions about the cover.

  Disclaimer:

  Any trademarks or other companies mentioned herein are not affiliated with the author in any form. This is a work of fiction, so the names of people and incidents are products of my imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or people is coincidental. No faeries, or wood sprites were harmed during the imagining or writing of this book.