by CK Dawn
Counting three lambs, I waited until they suckled before I gave them a dab of paint on their asses to claim ownership. One blue and two orange.
After a while, I glanced over my shoulder to check on the fox, but she’d disappeared. Snorting, I watched the sheep graze their way across the top of the field. She must’ve given up on whatever reason she’d come here for. Whatever it was.
For three days, the fox returned, and each time, she sat and stared, neither approaching or moving away.
I never saw her arrive, and I never saw her leave. She never approached the herd, me, or attempted to snatch a vulnerable lamb. Her strange behavior led me to believe she was something more than a mere fox, but there was no way for me to tell without revealing myself…but one thing was crystal clear.
She was there for me.
We were both aware of the other, our silent exchange speaking louder than any words. She wanted me to follow, and I wasn’t willing. Then she would appear the next day, and we’d do it all over again.
On the fourth morning, I’d had enough. She sat in her usual position, waiting, but this time, I stared into her eyes and shook my head. Wherever she wanted to lead me, I wasn’t going. I had a duty to Aileen and Derrydun. This time, unlike my insatiable curiosity when it came to the hawthorn by Sean’s house, I would think before I leapt into the unknown.
Then, to my utter surprise, the fox rose and flipped her tail before turning and walking away. Her paws were silent on the earth, her form melting into the mists like an apparition. It was like she’d never been there at all.
Grimacing, I returned to my duties, confident I’d made the right decision by ignoring the fox’s silent request.
Eleven
I didn’t know why I kept the encounter with the fox from Aileen, but the animal didn’t return, and the early morning meetings slipped from my mind.
Life settled once more, and I began to explore my powers, testing the limits of my imagination. So far, I’d learned I had an empathy with animals and people, the ability to sense their emotions was rather annoying at times, but it had come in handy, especially after the encounter with Bully.
Then there was my instinctive nature when it came to sensing magic and the use of it. I could also change into multiple forms but had not yet attempted anything other than the fox and gyrfalcon I was used to. If my ability extended to other shapes, I wasn’t entirely sure. I’d yet to try, afraid I’d become stuck halfway.
Walking the drywall by Mark Ashlyn’s place, I was greeted by the black stallion that prowled the outer edges of the neighboring property. His proud head emerged from the mist, vapor billowing from his nostrils. Beyond, I could barely make out the outline of the three mares—two chestnuts and a cream and chestnut Appaloosa—grazing along the hillside.
“Top of the morning, Knight,” I murmured as the stallion lowered his head over the drywall. A wire fence had been erected along this stretch to keep the horses from leaping in with the sheep, but there was still enough room for him to lean over and nuzzle my hand.
As I stroked his fur, my mind touched his, and the sensation of greeting a familiar animal warmed my insides. During the time I’d worked on Roy’s farm, I’d come to know all the animals that lived on the hillside, from the sheep, the horses, the cows, and the birds that wheeled overhead to the badgers and hares that leapt through the forest. Even the occasional group of red deer would be sighted, protected closely by a grand stag with antlers that twisted toward the sky.
Threading my fingers through Knight’s mane, I wondered if I would be able to manage taking on his form. We were great friends these days, our morning ritual of chatting over the fence had brought us closer together, and I knew the stallion inside out.
What would it feel like to become Knight? I imagined a stallion would be powerful, proud, and regal…but what would it feel like as a shapeshifter?
Deciding to take the risk, I stroked Knight’s velvety nose and stepped back.
“No time like the present,” I said to him. “You had better ready yourself, boy. This is going to be totally weird.”
Focusing on the stallion, my flesh began to heat, and sweat beaded on my forehead as I began changing. Then my bones stretched, signaling the point of no return. Grimacing, I fell to my knees as everything snapped and twisted, morphing from a human physiology into that of the black stallion.
Knight snorted, stamping his hoof. His eyes bulged, and he whinnied before trotting off toward the mares, leaving me to change into his likeness.
My arms lengthened into legs, my hips twisted into a strong rump, a tail sprouted at the base of my spine, and my face elongated. Black fur grew all over my body as my clothes dropped to the ground, and before long, I stood tall and proud, the spitting image of Knight.
Realizing I’d done what I thought was impossible, I leaped and bucked with glee, galloping across the top field like a maniac, relishing the power coiled in my body. Slowing to a trot, I shook my head, snorting. What a rush.
Knowing I didn’t have much time before Roy expected me down at the farmhouse, I willed my body to change back. I could endure the pain that came with my transformations much better after months of practice channeling the energy back into my limbs. By the time I was a man again, I was calm and collected, no signs that the snapping of bones and the twisting of muscle and sinew had ever ravaged me at all.
Kneeling in the grass, butt naked yet again, I smiled at Knight and his brood. The stallion lowered his head and snorted, vapor billowing from his nostrils in a silent show of approval. It seemed he liked me as a horse.
What a rush, indeed.
The following day, I found Aileen at Irish Moon, sitting behind the counter with her tarot cards in hand.
It was her morning ritual, and like clockwork, she sat in that exact place and divined her daily messages. Then the buses would start coming, and there would be a constant stream of tourists going to and fro from the shops until late afternoon. She never needed my help, but I came when I had a spare moment between all of my part-time jobs.
“I made a new shape,” I said proudly, leaning on the counter.
She raised her eyebrows. “Is that so? Did you get tired of foxes and falcons?”
“You always say I should learn to hone my abilities. I honed.”
“Then what shape did you make? I can see you’re itching to tell someone about it.”
“A horse,” I said proudly.
Aileen smirked. “Be careful, or people will think a kelpie has come to drag them away.”
Smiling, I shook my head. The kelpie was an ancient Irish horse that rose from the ocean and dragged unsuspecting folk into the water so it could drown them.
“It wasn’t as difficult as I thought,” I went on. “I’ve been greeting Mark Ashlyn’s horses every time I venture toward his property. It didn’t take long to form an affinity with them.”
“Imagine you,” Aileen said with a chuckle. “Prancing about like a pony.”
I laughed at her jibe and said, “I’m not sure I like it, though. I never realized how fragile a horse’s legs felt.”
“Aye, they seem to break easily, that’s for sure, but I know little about them, to be honest. Have you tried any other shapes?”
“There’s Father O’Donegal’s tabby cat,” I said with a wink. “But I fear you would be making fun of me until the end of time.”
She smiled weakly and returned her gaze to the cards. It was far from the reaction I was expecting to my lighthearted joke, and I began to worry.
“Are you all right?” I asked, sitting beside her. “You don’t seem yourself this morning. Are you feeling sick?”
Aileen waved me off. “I’m fine. The cards are giving me grief this morning, is all.”
Glancing at the counter, I saw the card she’d been meditating on when I’d walked in. The Tower sat before her, and I frowned.
“Something keeps warning me,” she muttered, the lightness of our conversation taking a dark turn. “It’s bee
n this way for months. More than a year, now I think of it. How long have you been with me?”
“A year, all told.”
Her fingers traced over the gold outline on the card. “Then longer still…”
“But things have been well,” I said. “Only what happened at the hawthorn.” I winced at the memory, the phantom claws of the craglorn pinching around my waist. “Nothing came…”
“No, but other things can. Life isn’t a long line of contentment, Boone. It rises and falls like the tides in the ocean. Good comes with bad, and bad comes with good. There can’t be one without the other.”
“You fear something is coming?”
“I’ve seen it in the cards time and time again,” she replied. “I only worry that it’s not come.”
“You and your precious cards,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Could it be that not everything is tied to them? The future is not set in stone, after all. You taught me that.”
“You’re right, but there’s something different about this. The frequency can’t be explained by chance. There’s a force in play here…”
“If there were other magic in Derrydun, you would know it,” I stated.
“Every time I divine my daughter’s future, I draw The Tower,” she went on, ignoring me. “Without fail.”
I didn’t understand. All this time she’d been divining Skye’s future, not her own? I’d always believed she’d been meditating on her duty to protect Derrydun from magical threats, not a woman who lived on the other side of the world. Her daughter…
“Why do you think that is?” I asked, not pressing.
Aileen picked up the card and studied it intently. “The Tower must fall in order to be rebuilt.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” I replied. “Maybe it means she’s starting out on a new path.”
“Or picking up where someone left off…”
“You said it yourself,” I declared, attempting to reassure her. “You haven’t seen her since she was a few years old. It could mean a thousand different things. It’s not a bad card, remember?”
The witch was silent for a moment, her gaze angled away from mine. I imagined I could feel the delicate ebb of her magic, but it was gone before I could sense it out.
“Enough about that,” Aileen said, returning the card to the deck and shuffling. “Let’s draw one for you.”
“Another?”
“Why not? Humor me.”
Sensing her apathy, I nodded. “Go ahead.”
She shuffled the deck vigorously, then placed it facedown on the counter. Sweeping the cards out in a long fan, she gestured for me to pick. My palm hovered over the black rectangles, and when I felt the familiar pull of energy, I selected one closer to me.
I was never sure if it was my mind playing tricks or if there was magic in the tarot legacy calling to my own, but I always felt something when Aileen asked me to draw. Every time.
Turning the card over, I saw it was another image from the Major Arcana. The twenty-two cards—twenty-three counting The Fool—that represented the major archetypes of the human consciousness. By now, I knew a lesson was coming, and it would either annoy or help me.
“The Magician,” Aileen declared.
“Sounds fancy.”
“Be careful, Boone,” she said mysteriously. “The Magician is all about illusion, after all. He may be a beneficent guide, but he doesn’t always have our best interests at heart.”
“Why are these cards always full of ominous warnings?” I grumbled.
“Life is a gamble,” the witch said with a shrug. “There’s always room for a little warning, especially for us.”
“If you say so. What warning should I heed this time?”
She held up the card so I could see it. “A manipulator may be in play, or it may be your ego that’s doing the manipulating. Be careful your power doesn’t intoxicate you…for good or bad.”
Instantly, I thought about the fox. A manipulator and a magician fond of illusions. Even more of a reason to believe I’d made the right decision.
“So I better be careful adding to my menagerie,” I said. “Noted.”
“Better hold back on the house cat for a while.”
She smiled weakly and returned the card to the deck. I got the distinct impression something was bothering her, and it wasn’t entirely to do with The Tower.
“I’m worried about you, Aileen,” I said, watching her pack away the deck. “The cards have you rattled.”
“Never you mind about me,” she replied. “I can deal with the messages the cards have thrown at me. I’ve been doing it for almost thirty years.”
“I don’t doubt it, but…”
She turned to face me, cocking her eyebrow. “But?”
“There’s something bothering you… Something more than the cards.”
She was silent, her eyes drilling into mine like she was using her magic to read my intentions. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was.
“I can help you protect Derrydun,” I went on. “I’m ready.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” she said carefully.
Warmth tickled my skin, and the awareness of magic pulled at the edges of my being. Aileen’s smiled faded, and I knew it wasn’t coming from her.
“Aileen?” I asked as the temperature grew.
“Shh,” she said, holding up her hand. Her expression took on a dreamy state, and her eyes appeared to focus on something far away.
Warmth turned into a prickling sensation, my skin zapping as if it were charged with static electricity. The tingling flowed through my entire body, and for a moment, I almost believed I was about to change against my will, but the feeling ceased as abruptly as it began. Focusing my mind, I was pulled toward the west side of the village…toward the hawthorn where I’d encountered the craglorn.
My heart sank, and I knew…
“The hawthorn…” I began uneasily.
Aileen sighed and didn’t move. Not even an inch.
“You’re not going to do anything?” I asked, turning to look in the direction of the tree.
Aileen shook her head. “There’s nothing to be done. It’s gone.”
Then as soon as it had begun, the tingling ceased, and it was like it had never been there at all. With one last burst of magic, the hawthorn had died.
“I had a delivery last night,” Aileen said. “Would you help me unpack it?”
“Aileen,” I said with irritation.
The witch turned and glared at me. “Boone, listen to me. The hawthorn has died, and that is that. There is no saving or replacing it. It’s gone. Life goes on. It must.”
The tree was gone, and with it, my world had shrunk by a third. All the more reason to protect Derrydun and its two remaining hawthorns.
“But—”
“You either have to stay within the boundary of what remains or gather the courage to face what’s waiting on the other side,” Aileen said, preempting my complaint. “It’s that simple.”
My expression fell, and the excitement I’d felt that morning seemed to have come from a lifetime I hardly remembered. Leave Derrydun? I wasn’t sure it was an option. Anyone and anything could be out there waiting, and who knew what they would do to me if I were caught.
Aileen placed her hand on my arm. “When you’re ready, you’ll know what to do.”
Twelve
There was nothing I could do about the hawthorn and the loss of its protection, so like Aileen, I went on with life as usual.
It was what it was. My world had shrunk, and short of planting a new tree, I was trapped as I’d always been. One day, I would cross the border and find what, or who, was waiting for me, but I wasn’t ready for that confrontation.
Closing up the kitchen at Molly McCreedy’s for the night, I ventured out into the pub to find Sean in the same place I’d left him a half hour ago. It had worn on close to midnight, and the farmer was still here, his ass welded to his favorite barstool. I’d lost count of how many times I’d escorted
him home, but I still humored him.
“You still here?” I asked, leaning against the bar.
“Still tryin’ to get another beer,” he grumbled, “but Hannah won’t serve me anymore.” He pouted at her and declared, “I thought we had somethin’.”
“We’ve never had anything,” she said, not even glancing up from the last of her cleaning duties. “You’re past the point of drunk, and it’s my call. Besides, it’s closing, and I want to go home.”
“You’re no fun, Hannah,” Sean complained. “One more! Just one.”
“You’ve been having ‘just one more’ all night,” she said, waggling her finger at the farmer. “Off with you, Sean McKinnon, before I hose you out the door.”
“She’ll do it, you know,” I said with a chuckle.
“And what are ye still doin’ here?” he complained. “Kitchen closed an hour ago.”
“What kind of man would I be if I left Hannah here to close up on her lonesome with a fool like you crowing for just one more beer?” I winked and laughed as he shoved my shoulder.
“You’re too smart for ye own good,” he said trying to hide his own smile. “Ahh, I best be off.”
“You’ll make it, I trust?” I asked him, and he flipped me his middle finger before shuffling out into the night. I suppose his answer was a resounding yes.
“Thanks for that,” Hannah said as the door swung shut with a bang.
“He’s harmless,” I replied. “He just needs a little encouragement.”
“I know. It’s just wearing thin, is all.”
“He’ll come to terms with it one day,” I muttered. “It’s coming up to three years since his wife passed.”
“Exactly.”
“Hannah,” I scolded her.
“Sorry, sorry,” she muttered, reaching behind the bar and retrieving her bag. “I know I should be kinder, but the man’s a borderline alcoholic. I worry.”
“It’s difficult, that’s for sure,” I mused, thinking of the friendship Sean and I had. “But we look out for one another in Derrydun. He loved her more than we could ever understand. I never met her, but it’s not hard to tell how he felt. That kind of loss must cut deep. I can’t begin to wonder what it feels like. Cut him some slack, all right? I’ll watch out for him.”