by Emmett Swan
The three boys sat on the moss while Jessica doled out their first real meal in over two centuries. She fed them turkey sandwiches, which they devoured, and potato chips, which they examined curiously.
“Only nutrients from the sun and earth for so many years,” mulled Laughlin, looking at his sandwich. “Oh, glorious food.”
“This poultry goes down well, milady,” said Conall. “But these thin flakes, though tasty, are strange.”
“Potato chips,” said Riley.
“They are slices of potato fried to a crisp,” added Jessica.
Meyler stuck one in his mouth and nodded. “Not bad.”
“We know of potatoes,” said Conall. “They are from the new world. Farmers in this parish had begun planting them back before we were cursed.”
“They’re pretty common everywhere now,” said Riley.
Conall examined the bag while he chewed. “We have a lot to learn.”
Jessica pulled out a large pair of scissors and snapped them in the air. “Time to trim back those motley heads of hair.”
“And the beards too,” added Meyler, fingering his sparse growth. “Although I might like this.”
“That fuzz is hardly a beard,” teased Conall, while Meyler ignored him and fondly pulled at his chin hair.
“Beards are in fashion these days,” offered Riley. “So you could keep them if you want.”
The brothers looked at each other and shook their heads. “We prefer clean faces,” said Conall.
They forgot to bring a mirror, so Jessica and Riley had to help the brothers cut their hair and shave off their beards. Jessica started with Conall. She kneeled behind him, aware that her thighs touched his back. She had never cut anyone’s hair before, so she went about it as her hairdresser did.
First, she combed it through, then starting at the right side, she gently lifted his chin to position his head at the proper angle. He studied her while she worked, and she pretended not to notice. Picking up section after section of his hair, she held each lock between her index and middle fingers, then slowly cut. She touched his ear and felt him lean into her.
“Be still please,” she whispered, feigning concentration. The hair felt damp and cold. Her mouth was just inches from his skin, which she could smell. His upper lip curled into a tiny, knowing smile.
She wanted this moment to last. Occasionally, she stopped to tousle Conall’s hair, then combed it straight again to get the lengths somewhat even, again taking her time. Resting one hand on his broad shoulder, she felt the warm, firm muscle below each finger. She wondered what he thought about her touch.
“You make a fine barber,” he finally said in his Irish accent. Jessica felt the vibration of his voice in her hand. She didn’t say anything.
This was another surreal situation. Things seemed to be happening in slow motion. Being this close to this strange yet comfortable man, touching his skin, cutting his damp hair, smelling his scent among the moss and earth. There were no words; she had never felt this. She was vaguely aware of sounds and other persons surrounding them, but the two of them were still alone.
Finally, and much to Jessica’s chagrin, she finished cutting Conall’s hair. He stood up and shook his head. Loose hairs floated and danced in the beams of sunlight streaming through the leaves. She thought about reaching out to catch some and hide them away for proof later that this really happened. But she resisted.
Then the dream continued as he looked down at her with his hazel eyes. Time stopped. No words. He reached down and took Jessica’s hands to help her up. Still holding the gaze, she stood just below his chin.
Finally, he broke the silence. “I think I can shave myself.” His voice was low and husky. She felt his warm breath on her cheek. Jessica was aware of his bottom lip. She could see the tiny lines in the pink curve. She didn’t move.
“My turn,” said Laughlin, oblivious to the magic he had interrupted and plopping down to Jessica’s right for his grooming.
Jessica regained her composure. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “It is.” She turned to Laughlin with comb and scissors in hand.
She quietly made much quicker work of both Laughlin’s and Meyler’s haircuts while Conall shaved. After each was finished, Riley wowed them by snapping a picture with his phone and sharing it. Laughlin and Meyler were especially fascinated with Riley’s technology. Conall, less so. He seemed distracted and said little.
Then the three of them sat down and leaned against trees, now clean, shorn, full, and warm.
“We mustn’t dally long,” said Conall. He kicked Meyler’s foot—he was beginning to doze off. “We have a mission to accomplish.”
“Um, regarding that,” said Jessica, unwrapping the blanket. She pulled out three swords and laid them on the moss. The weapons got the boys’ attention.
“I don’t know if they are any good,” she said. “They were displayed in our aunt’s house, hanging on the wall.”
Conall picked one up and held it in his hand, swishing it through the empty air.
“These are beautiful pieces of swordcraft,” he said, examining the blade closely. “Very fine swords.”
Laughlin picked up another one. “They will make a much better end to Thallach’s life than he deserves.”
“Speaking of Thallach,” said Jessica, looking at her watch. “You now have only forty hours to find him and to, well, do whatever it is you’re going to do.”
“Once we locate him, the doing will be quick, I assure you,” said Conall. “It is the finding that will be the hard part.”
“Did the Lady of the Mist provide you with more elixir of true seeing?” asked Laughlin.
“No,” said Jessica, “but she did say that we should take torches made from wet reeds with us to the Donny Hills. Light them and allow the smoke to rise along the canyon wall where he disappeared, and the shape of the smoke would reveal the entrance to Thallach’s lair.”
“Ah, I see,” said Conall, contemplatively rubbing his chin. “It seems practical. Though I wonder why she did not reveal this technique to us when we first approached her for help.”
“That was over two hundred years ago,” said Laughlin. “Perhaps she exhausted her supply of the true-seeing elixir.”
Conall nodded. “Perhaps it is as you say.”
“There is more,” said Jessica. “The Lady of the Mist warned that we must take care with Thallach. That his magic happens through his words. We must sneak up on him and silence him before he has a chance to speak. As long as he can’t utter words, he can’t perform his magic.”
“Aye,” said Conall. “We’ll clock the bugger before he knows what hit him.”
“And she expects payment for her help. She said there would be a vial containing a red fluid in Thallach’s workshop. She would like that in return.”
Conall shrugged. “A small price for freeing us, I think.”
“Small indeed,” said Laughlin. “Some magical elixir, no doubt.”
Conall turned to Jessica, smiled, and bowed. “We hope to see you again. Where may we find you once this business with Thallach is dealt with?”
Jessica was surprised at Conall’s remarks and it must have shown on her face. She wasn’t about to be dismissed so easily. They had come this far, invested this much, so she couldn’t see them turning for home now to leave these three to their own devices. She would see this through to its end.
“Oh no,” she said, emphatically shaking her head. “We’re going with you.”
“Now see here lassie,” said Laughlin. “This is about killing. Thallach possesses dangerous magic and we must take his life by violence.”
“Such a mission is no place for the two of you,” added Conall. “Moreover, you have no stake in the outcome.”
“But we want to help,” said Riley.
“And what if something happens?” added Jessica. “What if you get turned back into trees before you kill Thallach? We would need to know where you are and what happened. Maybe we could get more elixir from the Lady of th
e Mist.”
“She has a point,” said Laughlin, looking at Conall.
Conall put his hands on his waist. “Okay. If you wish to come along, you may. But when we find Thallach, you must stay back, far from harm’s reach. We don’t want our saviors turned into trees as well.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Jessica. “No matter how evil Thallach may be, my brother and I are not killers.” She looked at Riley. “Right?”
“I don’t want to kill anybody,” he said. “But if he is evil, I’m willing to help you break the curse. If you three must kill Thallach, then, well, he brought it upon himself.”
“Ah, well said!” piped Meyler. Riley looked at Meyler and smiled.
“Okay, we need torches. Fetch me several green sticks about yea long,” said Conall, holding out his hands about two feet wide. While his brothers located the sticks, he began collecting the remnants of their old clothing and ripped them into strips, which looked easy to do given the age of the fabric.
“These will burn more readily than wet reeds. We can tie vines of green leaves around them for extra smoke.”
“You may need this,” said Jessica, handing him a container of lighter fluid.
“Wow, Jess,” said Riley. “You did think of everything.”
Conall took the container and gave it a sniff. “Some strong chemical,” he noted. “Does it ignite?”
“It does,” she said. “Just wet your torch with it.”
“Did you, by chance, bring flint and steel?”
Jessica smiled. “I must confess I did forget to bring flint and steel.”
“A burning glass, perhaps,” he asked, looking up at the sun, now in full force in the morning sky.
“Nope, but I did bring this.” She held out a small butane lighter. She flicked the lighter wheel a couple of times, and the shower of sparks was converted into flame.
“Voila!” she said as she held the flame before her. The three Kyne brothers gaped.
“I wouldn’t be so smug if I were you,” said Riley. “That lighter is essentially a flint-and-steel arrangement, just with butane to make flame.”
“Most ingenious,” said Conall, holding the lighter and flicking the wheel for himself. He surveyed the group. “Well, we had best be off.”
With torches in hand and swords stuffed in their belts, the five of them headed off to the Donny Hills in search of Thallach’s lair.
Thirty
Everyone removed their shoes, and Jessica and Riley took the lead as they meandered down the stream to the wooden bridge. There they re-shod themselves and climbed the steep bank. Once they reached the dirt lane, the three Kyne brothers looked around with interest.
“Hey, the Flanagan House is still standing,” Meyler said, pointing to an aged ivy-covered stone cottage on a distant hill.
“Aye,” said Laughlin. “But where is the sawmill? And old Jule’s farmhouse?”
“It’s a new world,” said Conall. “There will be much to which we must adjust. But the time to dwell on such things is not now, for we have a grim task at hand.” He nodded toward the opposite side of the lane. “The Donny Hills lie this way.”
He led the group across a field that Jessica and Riley had not yet explored. The Kyne boys went first, with Conall leading the troop, of course; Jessica and Riley trailed.
“You really okay with this?” Jessica asked her brother.
“I guess,” he said, less confidently than he had sounded in front of the boys.
“It’ll be fine,” Jessica reassured him. “If things get too crazy, we can split. Like they said, it’s not our fight.”
As they walked along, both in thought, Jessica wondered whether she was doing the right thing. Damn her wavering confidence. She was sure, though, that she couldn’t let the Kyne brothers go alone. What if she never heard from them again? She couldn’t bear not knowing what happened.
Thallach had no fight with Jessica and Riley, so hopefully they could remain neutral parties. It was uncertain, worrisome, and exciting all at the same time. This summer was turning out to be more interesting than Jessica could have ever anticipated.
They hadn’t traveled far before the land started rising in the distance. Jessica pointed toward the low-lying hills. “Those are the Donny Hills?”
“Aye,” said Conall. “And therein lies the lair of the evil magician Thallach. We followed him there in fresh snow. The tracks led us into a small canyon with steep walls and up to a stone face but ended there. The walls were icy and there seemed to be no way for the thief to leave the canyon. Though we searched the area thoroughly, we found no further indication of the fleeing culprit.”
“I heard he was stealing gold from your family home,” said Jessica.
“That is true. I wonder if it still stands.”
“It does!” exclaimed Riley. “We had dinner there last night.”
“Is it still occupied by the Kyne clan?” Laughlin asked eagerly.
“No, I’m afraid not,” said Jessica. “The Petersons live there now.”
Conall looked down at his feet as they walked along. “Then we have no home in this new world. The price of being cursed for two centuries.”
Jessica realized that now, as the elation of returning to human form again had subsided, the Kyne brothers were coming to grips with the loss of their family. They were alone in a changed world. She wondered if, while they were still trees, they thought about these things and remembered their past lives.
She decided it was best not to ask. She knew what loss felt like; often there was nothing to say, and when there was, it needed to be on the griever’s time, not the consolers’. But she was committed to being there for them and helping in any way she could.
Jessica gently reached down and took Conall’s hand. “How horrible to be rooted in the forest, so close yet so far from your loved ones,” she said.
“And now they are all gone,” said Conall, his voice soft and sad.
“I’m sorry. The family who lives there now knew of your disappearance. They said it was a mystery, and that your family was very troubled by it.” That’s all she wanted to say. No need to make it more painful than it already was.
Conall shot Jessica a quick glance and a half smile but remained distracted. Everyone quietly walked along.
“Is that tear for our sakes?” asked Meyler. Jessica turned around and saw that Riley’s eyes were, indeed, watery.
“It’s so unfair,” he replied. “A horrible trick to play on someone.”
“We’ll figure it out,” said Laughlin. “We have to.”
“And we’ll help you get a new start,” said Riley with enthusiasm. “Maybe you can find relatives somewhere. Maybe some still live around here.”
“It wouldn’t be the same,” said Meyler. “But thank you for your concern.”
“How old are you?” asked Riley of Meyler, changing the subject.
“Fifteen years,” he replied.
“Just like me. Did you go to school?”
“Tutors gave us instruction. I learned to read, write, how to run an estate, and the proper ways of a gentleman.”
“Wow. No high school. Cool.”
“If cool is a good thing, then I guess it is. But running an estate requires much work. I spent a lot of time in the saddle inspecting the herds and crops, and supervising our tenants. It can be hard in the winter.”
Conall, who had been walking quietly for a while, looked at Jessica. “I suppose by now you know how grateful we are, regardless of how this ends.”
“I know you are,” she said and took Conall’s hand again. She felt its strength and warmth. She could feel the energy in his stride and saw his determination in the way he set his jaw. He made her feel safe, protected.
“Like my brother said, you three will need to get adjusted to a new world. We can help you with that too.”
“It would be a pleasure to have you instruct me,” replied Conall. He squeezed her hand before letting it go. Jessica found herself regretting t
he loss of contact.
Though hills rose in front of them, fields to either side were broad and flat, with sweeping views of the surrounding land. The Kyne brothers stopped to watch a car drive along a distant lane, perhaps a mile away.
“That’s called a car,” said Jessica. “Or an automobile. They have engines that use gas for fuel.”
“But there are no animals harnessed to it,” said Meyler.
“The lady is saying that they have created a machine that propels itself,” said Conall. “Auto…mobile.”
“I see,” said Meyler. “But…” He was still staring at the vehicle as it bounced along the dusty lane into the distance.
“If you think that’s cool, just wait!” said Riley. “There’s a whole bunch of new stuff out there.”
“No doubt,” said Conall, also staring at the car. “But for now, we have a pressing task at hand. For if we do not defeat this Thallach, then changing seasons and falling leaves are all there will be to look forward to. For our entire lives!”
“An unsettling thought,” said Laughlin.
“Aye,” agreed Conall. “So let’s find this Thallach bastard.”
As their party made their way into the higher ground of the Donny Hills, the land became sparse and rocky. Rock outcroppings were common, and moss and lichen covered the boulders. The land was broken into ravines and small canyons.
“I think it’s this way,” said Meyler, pointing to the entrance of a small canyon.
“Hmm,” said Conall, looking it over. “It’s possible. But I think the canyon we want is over this crest. If we do not find him there, we will return and examine this one.”
“He’s a bright lad, that Meyler,” said Conall to Jessica, speaking quietly so only she could hear him. “I try to keep him encouraged. But I’m certain the canyon we entered two centuries ago is this way.”
They crested the hill and entered a small box canyon enclosed by sheer stone faces twenty feet high. The total area in the enclosed space was little more than the ground floor of Connaree Manor.
“This is it!” said Laughlin. “I remember that rock.” He pointed to a large boulder taller than a man situated in the middle of the canyon.