Time out of Time

by Maureen Doyle McQuerry

  With her came the remembrance of something lost, something you wanted to find more than anything else. Everything in the room stilled. In that stillness, Timothy heard the front door slam, but he dared not tear his eyes from the woman.

  Her hair was a portion of the night sky framing a face of solemn white. Even in the bitter cold, her pale arms were bare and muscled. Later no one could agree on what she’d worn. Jessica said she was dressed in green like the woods, but Sarah swore she wore blue. A musky scent of moss and lichen filled the room, as if the forest had stepped inside.

  Julian was the first to speak, and it was in a voice Timothy had never heard him use before. “One of the Daoine sídhe, here in the house. I never thought to see one.”

  The stag’s legs shook. Without speaking, the woman helped the stag to lie on the floor. It was a beautiful creature, gleaming like frost, with a terrible red gash that laid open its chest and flank.

  “This room is thick with a spell called glamour.” She shook her head, raised one long arm, and swiped it through the air.

  Immediately, Timothy felt lighter. His lungs expanded. It was as if a too-warm mist had cleared from the room. Nessa returned, her usual, placid smile replaced by a keen, pointed gaze.

  Now unmistakably Cerridwyn, she stood tall. “The Daoine sídhe use glamour to deceive. It is one of the oldest forms of enchantment.” She looked pointedly at the stranger. “Why are you here? Since when are the Good Folk, the Daoine sídhe, concerned with the affairs of humankind?”

  “I have used no glamour tonight, nor would I. And you are right, your affairs do not often concern us. I am Finula. Tonight I have come asking help.” She looked down at the stag. “Orisis, one of the few remaining stag people, was pursued and injured by the Wild Hunt. The power of our people fades each day, just as our numbers do. But there is someone in this room who I believe can help.” She turned to look solemnly at Jessica, who had pivoted toward the front door.

  But Jessica cried, “Tam’s gone! He’ll never survive out in this storm!”

  With all the strange happenings, Timothy had forgotten completely about Tam. But now, as he looked about the room, he realized that Jessica was right. The front door had slammed, and Tam was nowhere to be seen.

  “It is the darkest hour. He will survive, though it would be better for all if he did not,” Finula replied.

  “How can you say that?” Jessica crossed her arms across her chest.

  Finula ignored her question. “Word has spread among the Daoine sídhe that a Healer has arisen with power that reaches beyond our own. Orisis has been mortally wounded by one of Herne’s hellhounds. At any other time, my own strength could heal him, but tonight, when the powers of the Dark are at their peak, I do not have the strength. By tomorrow, it will be too late. Heal Orisis, and the best of the Good Folk will be in your debt.”

  Julian and Cerridwyn remained quiet as the Daoine sídhe spoke. Timothy noticed that Jessica was standing taller now, her hand clutching the red stone at her throat.

  “It is your choice.” Cerridwyn looked at Jessica. “But to have the Good Folk in your debt is no small thing.”

  Jessica paused. Then she knelt by the silent stag. His breath was shallow and fast. When she raised her face questioningly to Cerridwyn, Cerridwyn nodded. Slowly, Jessica ran her hands along the length of the gash, and Timothy held his breath.

  As her hands traveled the wound, Jessica’s face grew paler. The stag’s flank was laid open wide, and it was obvious the animal had already lost a good deal of blood. Little by little the flesh drew together, and the gash began to close. Jessica’s arms trembled with the effort, and her face grew not only pale but taut. No one spoke or moved.

  The stag’s breathing deepened. The animal began to twitch. White beads of foam flecked its muzzle as the wound, so raw and red, became but an angry scar. When Jessica rose shakily to her feet, Julian hurried to her side and supported her arm. Timothy finally exhaled.

  “You’ve performed a great service for our people. And for that service, we are in your debt.” The sídhe’s presence filled the room. Again Timothy could smell the musky scent of moss and pine needles. “I have come with another concern as well.”

  This time her pale eyes sought out Timothy. He found it impossible to return the look without faltering.

  “Word also has spread among the people that you have come to find one of the ancient treasures.” Her eyes searched his face.

  Timothy knew that under that gaze it would be impossible to lie. His legs that had felt so heavy now trembled like frail sticks. His friends ringed the room: Sarah, Julian, Cerridwyn, and Jessica. He thought of Gwydon’s words: Five must stand.

  “I have come for the map.” She extended her hand toward Timothy. “Why should a mere boy be trusted with it?”

  Timothy’s words tumbled over one another. He was breathing very fast, as if he’d been running. “The map leads to the Telling Stone. I need the map to find it. I can’t give the map away. If I don’t find the stone, the Dark will rule. There won’t be peace. The old stories will be lost.”

  “The perils of humans are as fleeting as grass, here today and gone tomorrow. However, humans will outlast these perils. In one form or another, you will even outlast the Daoine sídhe. That is something the old stories say. Until then, my people, the sídhe, should keep the stone.”

  Timothy spoke again, surprised by his own words. “But if the Dark finds it before I do, all the true stories will be lost. The future will be built around the Dark’s lies.”

  Silence stretched taut across the room. “Humans have already forgotten what is true,” Finula said. “There is little difference between those who serve the Dark and the Light. Each wants power. If my people have the stone, we will see that it is kept from the Dark and from humans who seek to use it for their own advantage. And I will not lie. The Stone of Destiny will protect the Daoine sídhe until it is time to pass it to a true Filidh. Give me the map, or I will take it.”

  Her advance on Timothy was like the rushing of the wind. The room blurred, and Timothy was enveloped in the scent of the forest. He had very little breath left. “I’m to be the keeper of the stories.” Timothy’s voice sounded frail and pompous even to his own ears. “I’m the true Filidh.”

  “By whose design?”

  “The Greenman.”

  At that name, the sídhe shuddered. “The Daoine sídhe have been caretakers and co-creators for years out of mind. Then man came. I believe it was a great mistake to loose humans upon the earth, but it was not my decision. There will come a time when what remains of the earth will be left to humankind.” Her voice was filled with sadness. “The Greenman understands this. His power is greater even than ours.” Her pale face softened. “And above all, the Greenman is good.”

  Across the room Cerridwyn’s eyes gleamed, and Julian’s gaze never wavered.

  “And we are to help him.” Sarah stepped forward, and Jessica stood by her side. For the first time that night, Timothy felt happy.

  Finula’s gaze traveled over the three. “You are an unlikely trio. Older and wiser people have failed at this task. But if you are truly sent, you are not alone.” She paused. Orisis rose and snorted restlessly by the fire. “There have been rumors that a new Filidh has arisen. If that is so, then you know that the stone is only one of four ancient treasures, lost so long ago. All four will be necessary for a true Filidh to rule. One is kept safe by my people . . .” Here she paused and looked at Jessica. “The Spear of Lugh, or Light. The spear was forged by the smith of Falias, the city of the gods, for High King Lugh to use in his fight against Balor the One-Eyed.”

  At the name Balor, Timothy winced as if he were pierced in the side. The pain was so sharp that he almost doubled over. He looked for Julian. But Julian remained sitting in the shadows, looking down, so Timothy couldn’t read his face.

  “I see the name Balor is not new to you. For many centuries he has sought the Stone of Destiny himself, and he will do everything poss
ible to block your way.”

  “He tried to kill Timothy once,” Jessica said.

  “I have said I am in your debt.” The Daoine sídhe smiled at Jessica, and even the smile held something of sadness. “I cannot interfere in your quest, but I can put one of the four treasures at your disposal when the time comes. Another is already in this room tonight: the god Dagda’s Cauldron, which never empties and also has power to heal.” She looked toward the fire, where the copper cauldron hung.

  Nessa put a thick mitt on her hand and reached into the hearth, lifting out the small cauldron. “Fire cannot burn it, nor can cold destroy it. You can see it already worked well for you tonight,” she said, as she gestured toward Jessica’s wrist. “It is only given to a Healer. You must guard it well.” She extended the pot to Jessica. “It won’t burn you. Take it.”

  Jessica hesitated before extending her bare hand and grasping the handle. “Why, it’s not hot at all!” she exclaimed. Then she added solemnly, “Thank you.”

  Timothy was pleased to see that Jessica spoke again like the friend he knew and trusted. And with excitement he remembered the Ogham words Maggie Seaborg had translated from their map: cauldron, spear, sword, and stone. They now had the first of the treasures.

  “It is the middle of your Christmas Eve, and soon the Light will come into the Dark. Orisis and I must go about our business in the time we have left.”

  Before Timothy could speak, Finula mounted the white stag. Together the woman and stag made a fearsome pair. Orisis arched his gleaming neck as if he were ready to be off. Timothy longed to know more about the stag and the fairy folk. Finula looked down at Timothy. Her voice was a whisper. “Once you know the true nature of something, you know its weakness. Remember that, Timothy James.” Then the stag and rider moved to the door. As quiet as that whisper, the Daoine sídhe was gone.

  Outside, the wind had stilled. Timothy walked to the doors. True nature. What did it mean? No more snow was falling. The moon had parted the clouds and looked down implacably from a sky dizzy with stars. Jessica and Sarah joined him.

  “It’s beautiful!” Sarah stood looking out at the silver world. “And it’s Christmas morning!”

  Julian, who had gone back to the basement, returned with Gwydon by his side and another sheet of plywood. “And we could all use some sleep. But first I’d better repair the door again.”

  Timothy looked at Jessica and Sarah. Jessica was gripping the cauldron with both hands, just as if her wrist had never been injured. “We’ve got the first treasure: the cauldron.”

  “And Finula said she could help us with one other,” Sarah added.

  “Isn’t it strange that Tam left as soon as Finula arrived?” Jessica asked. “It’s funny, but I can hardly remember anything about his being here.”

  Timothy wondered if she remembered the kiss.

  CHRISTMAS DAY

  ESSICA AND THE MAXWELLS returned to the Edinburgh flat on Christmas Day. Timothy, Sarah, and Jessica had only a few hours of sleep at Nessa’s in the early hours of the morning. By late morning the roads were passable again. The snow and ice had become slush and melt.

  When they arrived, Timothy found his old Christmas stocking from home hanging from the foot of the sofa bed. His parents must have filled it before leaving for Nessa’s. Very sneaky. It was lumpy with small gifts and candy, the seams stretching as if they would burst. He grabbed it and hurried with the girls into their room. At the foot of each bed hung a plump stocking.

  “Merry Christmas!” Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell beamed.

  For the next few minutes there was a flurry of tearing paper and exclamations as candy and presents were tossed onto the beds. Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell sat down to watch the excitement.

  “This is the exact leotard I’ve been wanting.” Sarah unrolled a V-necked, deep blue leotard and held it up. “Perfect!”

  Timothy wondered for the millionth time how his sister could get so excited about clothes. Fortunately, his stocking didn’t contain any except a long gray-and-charcoal-striped wool scarf. It did, however, have something that he’d been waiting for, the latest sci-fi book by his favorite author.

  Jessica shook her gifts out on her lap. The new CD she’d been wanting, a silk scarf, and a pair of dangly silver earrings made a small pile. “There’s something still in there!” She stuck her arm into the stocking and pulled out a thin box wrapped in red tissue with silver lettering. “‘Merry Christmas with love from Mom and Dad,’ ” she read out loud. “I think I know what this is!” She ripped off the paper. She held up the slim red phone triumphantly.

  “That’s the newest model!” Timothy eyed the phone with envy.

  Jessica plugged it in to charge. “Both of you, I have something for you!” She rummaged under her bed and triumphantly pulled out two bright packages festooned with dust bunnies. “Open them!”

  Sarah unwrapped a pair of red lacquered chopsticks.

  “They’re for your hair!”

  Timothy wasn’t sure what to expect as he unwrapped his gift. At first he thought it was a pocket watch. He opened the small brass disk. Inside was a compass with filigreed hands.

  Timothy smiled at Jessica. “This is amazing!”

  Jessica preened. “I thought you’d like it. And who knows? It just might be useful.”

  “This is the best gift ever. Thanks, Jess. Where did you get it? It looks really old.”

  “Wynde Alley. When you were in the map store. There was this funny little place that looked like a junk shop.”

  “We have something for you, too.” Sarah reached under the bed and drew out a small, carefully wrapped box.

  Timothy held his breath, hoping Jessica would like it. Jessica deliberately undid the ribbons and paper. Inside was a snow globe with the Edinburgh Ferris wheel inside. Jessica turned it upside down and watched the snow fall. She didn’t say a word.

  She thought it was stupid, Timothy worried.

  “Thanks. It’s perfect!” Jessica’s smile included them both.

  Timothy sighed with relief.

  “We have something for you, parents! The three of us went in on it together.” Sarah pulled a box out from under her bed and handed it to her parents.

  “You open it, Elizabeth,” Mr. Maxwell urged.

  Mrs. Maxwell carefully undid the ribbon and opened the box. Inside were two items wrapped in tissue paper. The first was a framed photo of all of them at the pub the first night they arrived in Edinburgh.

  “Remember? Jess asked Mr. McMorn to take it. Then we had it framed,” Timothy said.

  “It’s wonderful!” Then Mrs. Maxwell unwrapped three carved wooden Christmas ornaments.

  “They’re from the German Market,” Sarah explained.

  “I think this may be our best Christmas yet!” Mr. Maxwell exclaimed.

  “I’m sure it’s one we’ll never forget,” Timothy said.

  As Sarah sucked contentedly on sour lemon drops and Jessica flipped through the pages of Timothy’s book, Timothy sighed again. Somehow Christmas with his family and friends always made him feel this way. Replete, thought Timothy. Nine points and a good word, even if the point value was low.

  DUNSINANE

  S SOON AS HIS PARENTS left the room, Timothy said what he’d been thinking all along. “It’s time to plan the trip to Dunsinane and the search for the Telling Stone.”

  Jessica looked at the Dagda’s Cauldron at the foot of her bed. It would be a gift for Jessica’s mother, Nessa had told the elder Maxwells. “It’s hard to believe this pot is so important,” said Jessica. “But the cauldron’s on the map.”

  “ ‘Daoine sídhe’ is what Mr. Twig said in the hospital. The fairy folk must be the Good Folk.” Sarah clasped her arms around her knees. “Finula didn’t seem like any fairy I’ve ever imagined!”

  “And what happened to Tam? All of a sudden he was gone! He didn’t even say good-bye!” Jessica sounded a little too disappointed to Timothy.

  “He is possibly the rudest boy I’ve ever met!” Sara
h began to tug a brush through her tangled hair. “And he killed that bird!”

  “He did not. He was just looking at it. And I guess I was pretty rude, too. Sorry, Sarah.”

  “Oh, it’s all right. You were just enchanted by him.”

  “That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking!” Timothy burst out. Both girls turned to look at him. “Don’t you remember that when Finula arrived, she said the room was full of glamour?”

  “No.” Jessica looked puzzled.

  “Well, she did. And then she moved her arm across the room, and things became clearer. Tam left. I heard the door slam. There’s something suspicious about him. Do you really think it was a coincidence that his car broke down near Nessa’s house?”

  “I think he was just stalking Jess.” Sarah twisted her hair up into a bun and stuck a red chopstick through it.

  Jessica laughed, looked pleased, and changed the subject. “We need to look at the map. We need to find that hill the Seaborgs mentioned.”

  Timothy scooped up his presents from the foot of the bed. The feeling of repleteness had vanished. He put the compass in his pocket and went to get the map. They did need to look at the map so they could plan out their next move. But he seemed to be the only one who suspected just how dangerous that next move might be.

  When he returned, they spread two maps across the foot of Sarah’s bed, comparing them side by side. One was a touring map of Scotland and the other the map cipher from Mr. Twig.

  “Here’s Dunsinane Hill.” Timothy pointed to a location to the northwest of Edinburgh. “According to the scale, it looks like it would be about an hour and a half away, just like the Seaborgs said.”

  “How are we going to get there?” Jessica tapped a pencil thoughtfully on the paper. “We could say we wanted to go sightseeing, but what’s there?”