Prince of Hazel and Oak (Shadowmagic Book 2)

by John Lenahan

  ‘What?’

  We are going to use Shadowmagic to encase all of Oisin in tree sap, just as I did with his hand. It will not cure him but it may give us time.’

  ‘Are you sure it’ll work?’

  Mom took a long time before answering. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I am not.’

  I stood on the ramparts of the east wall. The stones under my feet were new and whiter than the rest of the castle. This was the wall that was blown out when Cialtie’s golden circle misfired. Lorcan had done a fine job rebuilding it.

  I looked out and took a deep breath, savouring the pollution-free smell of summer’s end. At a first glance I thought the forest in front of me was on fire. The oaks were incandescent with the colours of fall. Leaves the size of notepad paper had transformed themselves into reds and yellows and golds that looked as if they were lit from within, like Christmas decorations. I remembered the first time I had seen this vista when it was green, I remembered the strength and joy that it had given me. I felt the strength returning, but the joy was denied to me now.

  Below I saw the top of the dolman that Fergal was buried under. ‘Oh Fergal,’ I said to myself, ‘how I could use a friend right now.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Conor,’ said a voice from behind me – it was Araf. ‘I’m sorry about your father and I’m sorry I was so short with you before. It wasn’t my place to be the first to tell you and I’m not very good at hiding my emotions.’

  ‘You surprise me, Araf, I didn’t know you had any emotions,’ I chided, trying to lighten the mood.

  ‘I have them, Conor, although right now I wish I did not.’

  I put my arm over his shoulder and together we looked down at Fergal’s grave. ‘I still miss him terribly,’ he said. ‘He was truly my brother – I never had the chance to tell him that.’

  ‘He knew, my friend, he knew.’

  A guard showed up and said my mother wanted to see me in The Lord’s Chamber. Araf led me down to Dad’s room but he didn’t come in. When we got to the door he didn’t say anything, he simply nodded. I think he must have used up all of his allotted words for the day. Mom, Nieve, Fand and the Imp-healer were standing around Dad’s bed; a Shadowfire flickered on a table. I didn’t think it was possible but he looked worse than he did only a couple of hours earlier.

  ‘We are almost ready,’ Mom said. ‘He wants to speak to you.’

  I knelt down next to him; he turned to me and I could see the effort it took. ‘Conor,’ he whispered, ‘you must take the Choosing. The Land needs a Lord of Duir.’

  ‘You’re the Lord of Duir, Pop.’

  ‘Promise me.’

  ‘I promise.’

  He straightened his head and took a deep breath. ‘Deirdre,’ he said, trying to raise his voice above a whisper, ‘I’m ready.’

  Mom placed a small gold disc on Dad’s tongue. He received it like a Catholic at church, then Mom and Fand each picked up a waxy fist-sized ball of amber sap. They cupped their hands and held it over the Shadowfire; the sap melted leaving them both holding a pool of glowing amber, as if they had scooped water from a stream. Dad’s sheets were removed and I gasped to see that the sores on his face covered his entire body. The only part of him that looked healthy was his runehand. Its heath and vitality only highlighted just how deathly the rest of him looked.

  Mom and Fand stood at the foot of the bed incanting in Ogham – the oldest of tongues. As they chanted they let the sap drip onto Dad’s toes. It covered his feet, then his ankles and then his legs, like it had a mind of its own. I watched in horror as the amber travelled up his chest. When it reached his neck he closed his eyes, took one last gasp of breath and was completely engulfed.

  Mom carried away the remaining sap and let it drip into a bowl. It left no residue on her hands. Then she slowly examined the Shadowmagic shell. When she rolled Dad onto his side to have a look at his back, it shocked me to see him pop up like a marble statue. Fand covered him with a sheet as Mom placed her hands on both sides of his head. After a few minutes she let him go and wiped her nose on her forearm; she looked drained.

  ‘Did it work?’ I asked.

  ‘We will know tomorrow,’ she said.

  I wanted to keep watch over Dad all night but Mom wouldn’t let me. Since she missed my rebellious teenage years, I toyed with the idea of making this my first defiant stand against her, but she was right, I was exhausted.

  She led me to a room two doors along. ‘This is The Prince’s Chamber,’ she said, ‘it once belonged to your father. It is your room now.’

  It was huge. A massive bay window and an equally large four-poster bed were draped in purple fabric. When I get some time, I thought to myself, I’m going to have to do some redecorating. The walls were panelled in hand-carved oak depicting all of the major trees of The Land. I noticed one of the panels was full of chips and holes.

  Mom followed my gaze. ‘Oisin told me that is where he used to practise throwing Dahy’s knives. He got in trouble for that.’

  ‘I promise I won’t throw any knives in here, Mom,’ I said, but I knew I would.

  She wrapped her arms around me. ‘I have missed you. I wrote you every day.’

  ‘Me too. How did you finally get the slates to work?’

  ‘It was Samhain.’

  ‘Samhain, I remember that word,’ I said. ‘When Dad wouldn’t let me go out trick-or-treating at Halloween he used to say, “There is no way I am going to let you wander around alone during Samhain.” What does that have to do with the emain slates?’

  ‘Samhain is when The Land and the Real World are closest. The slate must have started to work simply because it was in range.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad it did. I’m here now, Mom, and I’m not going anywhere.’

  She squeezed me tighter then kissed me on the cheek. ‘Get some rest.’

  ‘You too, you look like you need it.’

  ‘I will try,’ she said and left me alone in my new bedroom.

  A chambermaid came in and placed a pitcher of water next to a bowl on the dresser. When she turned I recognised her. It was the Leprechaun who helped Dad and me sneak into Cialtie’s room. ‘Aein!’ I said, calling her by name.

  I surprised her when I hugged her but then she returned it, her arms only making it to my sides.

  ‘How is Lord Oisin?’

  ‘Not good.’

  ‘If he—’ She stopped and placed her hand over her mouth as if to push back the words.

  ‘What is it, Aein? You can say anything to me.’

  ‘If … If Lord Oisin should die …’ she said and made a little gesture like she was warding off evil spirits, ‘will Cialtie come back?’

  ‘Over my dead body.’

  Her worried eyes went steely. ‘Mine too.’ We shared a determined smile. ‘If you need anything, you pull that cord.’

  ‘Thank you, Aein.’

  ‘Welcome home, Young Prince.’

  My head hit the pillow like I had been hit with Araf’s banta stick. In that twilight moment between wakefulness and sleep I felt the impatience of a dream desperate to begin, like a troupe of actors waiting for the opening curtain. ‘Here we go!’ I mumbled aloud.

  I was a bit disappointed with my first dream back. Deep down I had hoped that I would be able to have a conversation with my father, but my dream was a collage of fleeting images. Trees, salmon, horses, knives, castles, bears, mermaids, archers and a myriad of other images zoomed in and out of my sleep. I only had e vision that stayed with me. It was of a young girl I didn’t recognise; she was crying, and an older woman that I somehow knew was her grandmother was comforting her.

  I had slept later than I meant to. I dressed quickly and jogged to my father’s room. Fand was sitting at his feet, cross-legged with her hands folded in her lap, Buddha-like. She turned to me when I entered. ‘There is no change, Conor. We will know more after nightfall.’ I leaned over and kissed Dad on the forehead; it was like kissing a cue ball, cold and hard. ‘Hang in there, Pop,’ I whispered.
r />   ‘Go get something to eat,’ Fand said, ‘we will find you if there is any change.’

  I found the breakfast room all by myself (well, after getting lost for a half an hour). Everywhere I went people pointed at me and whispered to their companions, or, even worse, bowed. No one dared to sit with me at breakfast but that didn’t stop them from staring at me. I’m not sure if it was ’cause I was their prince or ’cause the food was so awesome that I moaned while I ate.

  A guard approached as I was finishing. I was surprised to see he was a Banshee. I was glad that Dad had chosen not to banish all of the guards that worked for Cialtie.

  ‘Prince Conor,’ the guard said, bowing. He was young and I could see he was nervous. I smiled at him. ‘The prisoner is getting – difficult.’

  ‘Prisoner? What prisoner?’

  ‘The one who shouts with the strange tongue.’

  ‘Oh my gods,’ I said, ‘Detective Fallon, I forgot all about him. You’d better take me to him.’

  Chapter Four

  Prisoner Fallon

  I heard him before I even rounded the corner. When I reached the door two guards, a Banshee and an Imp, snapped to attention.

  ‘Take it easy, guys,’ I said. They relaxed but not much.

  I jumped when I heard the volume of the shouts on the other side of the door.

  ‘DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?’ Brendan bellowed with a voice that was going hoarse. ‘YOU ARE ALL IN BIG TROUBLE! DO YOU HEAR ME?’

  I motioned for the door to be opened. The Banshee reached for the handle and the Imp stepped in front of me gripping his banta stick.

  ‘Hold on,’ I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. ‘That won’t be necessary.’

  ‘Are you sure you want to go in there alone?’ the Imp asked.

  ‘I’m sure.’ Just then a thunderous crash shook the door from the inside. ‘Well, maybe you could lend me your stick.’

  The Imp stared at me with an It’s your funeral look and handed me his banta stick. ‘Brendan,’ I called through the door, ‘I’m coming in, don’t attack me. OK?’

  There was no answer so I braced myself and stuck my nose around the jamb. Detective Fallon was standing in the middle of the room. His shirt tail was half out, his hair stuck out at a wacky forty-five-degree angle. He was panting and covered with sweat. His eyes weren’t as crazy as the last time I saw him, but I wasn’t about to shake his hand. I closed the door behind me. ‘I see you have been busy turning our furniture into toothpicks.’

  ‘Kidnapping is a very serious crime.’

  ‘You can add it to the murder charge if you like, but I didn’t do either of them.’

  ‘Where am I?’ he said, taking a menacing step towards me.

  ‘Easy, fella,’ I said, positioning my stick, ‘I don’t want to hit you with one of these a third time.’

  ‘A third time?’

  ‘Yes, I hit you once in the neck at the police station and once in the head upstairs.’

  ‘That was you?’ he said, rubbing the side of his head where I am sure it hurt.

  ‘Yeah, sorry, I got a little carried away.’

  ‘I don’t remember much about the second time,’ he said calming down a bit, ‘I was …’

  ‘Freaked out,’ I finished for him. ‘Don’t worry about it, The Land can do that to you – I know. Hey, let’s sit down and talk about this nicely.’ I looked around the room but there wasn’t any place to sit. Not one piece of furniture was any bigger than my forearm. Keeping one eye on Brendan I backed up to the door and opened it a crack. ‘Could you get us a couple of chairs?’ I glanced back at the devastation of the room. ‘Cheap ones.’

  Brendan glared at me while I kicked pieces of smashed furnishings into the corner. A guard came in carrying two simple chairs. ‘Are these cheap enough for you, Your Highness?’

  ‘They’ll be fine,’ I said, indicating with a tilt of my head for him to leave.

  Brendan examined his chair before he sat in it. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t trust me or if he was studying it to see how easy it would be to smash. ‘What language are you are speaking?’

  ‘Ancient Gaelic. It’s the lingo around here.’

  ‘And where is here?’

  ‘You’re in The Land, Brendan. I wasn’t lying.’

  ‘You’re telling me that I’m in that Never-Never Land you babbled on about?’

  ‘Tir na Nog actually, but now that I think about it, the concept is the same.’

  ‘And who are you – Tinkerbell?’

  ‘Well, I would prefer to think of myself as more of a Peter-like person but we are getting off the subject. You’re here now. I don’t know how you got here.’

  ‘The last thing I clearly remember is grabbing onto a horse’s tail.’

  ‘Ah,’ I said. ‘That explains it. You were pulled through when my mother opened a door to another world, this world, The Land.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘I don’t blame you, it even sounds crazy to me and I’ve done it a couple of times before, but that’s the truth of it. It would be easier if you accepted it.’

  Brendan rubbed his head in the place where I had clocked him.

  ‘Head hurting?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Have you eaten?’

  In response he pointed to his left. A tray lay at the foot of a wall surrounded by broken crockery. Above it dripped the remains of a breakfast.

  ‘I’ll take that as a no then.’

  I stood and opened the door a crack and spoke to the guards. ‘Could you get me a couple of apples and some willow tea?’

  ‘OK,’ Brendan said when I sat down again, ‘for the sake of argument, let’s say I believe you. When are you going to let me go?’

  ‘I’ll talk to my mother about sending you back as soon as things calm down around here.’

  ‘I want to see her now!’

  A knock came at the door. I was glad for the excuse to stand up and put a bit of space between us. He was getting agitated again. The guard handed me a tray with two apples, a teapot and a couple of mugs. I placed it on the floor between us and offered Brendan an apple. He stared at it but he didn’t take it.

  ‘I’m not trying to poison you, Brendan. Look.’ I took a bite out of the apple. It was gorgeous, as good, if not better than I remembered. ‘You have got to try this,’ I garbled as I wiped juice off my chin. ‘It will change your whole outlook.’

  Brendan took the already bitten apple from my hand, stared at it for a moment then took a bite. The look on his face made me laugh and almost spit out the chewed apple bits in my mouth. Now I know how I looked like the first time I ate an apple in The Land.

  I watched as Brendan, while making the mandatory moans of delight, demolished the piece of fruit. When he finished he threw the core over his shoulder and then slapped himself in the face – hard.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m waking myself up. I get it now. This is a dream.’

  ‘A dream?’

  ‘Of course. Why didn’t I see it before? Two beautiful young women single-handedly demolish a police station, I get kidnapped by extras in a King Arthur movie and I just had an apple that tasted like a five-course meal at the Ritz; of course it’s a dream.’ He slapped himself /p>

  ‘OK, Brendan, if that’s what makes you happy then, fine, you believe it. Now, are you going to behave in this dream?’

  ‘Sure, why not? I might as well enjoy myself before I wake up. The shame of it is that I probably won’t remember it. I never remember my dreams.’ He stood up and stretched and actually looked like he was having fun. ‘Can I have the other apple?’

  ‘Sure. Look, if you promise not to turn any furniture into kindling and generally settle down I’ll get you a bath and a new room.’

  ‘And more apples?’

  ‘And more apples. Just behave. Oh, and try that willow tea, I think you’ll enjoy that too.’

  I instructed the guards to get Brendan a bath and a change of clothes
and a new room. I told them he shouldn’t give them any more trouble but they should keep a close eye on him. They looked sceptical but agreed.

  I went back to Dad’s room and kept vigil with Mom, Nieve, Fand and the Imp-healer, who I learned was named Bree. Minutes felt like hours, and as every one crawled by I wanted to ask how he was doing, but I knew they didn’t know, so I didn’t ask. I hate waiting, I always have, but that was the worst. I felt so helpless. Fand recited a healing mantra in Ogham and I asked her to teach it to me. I could feel the healing magic in the words but wondered if it was getting through Dad’s amber shell. As the afternoon moved on, we all five chanted it together.

  The curtains were drawn so I couldn’t tell if night had fallen but Mom and Fand both looked up at each other at the same time, as if they were alerted by some soundless alarm.

  Fand removed Dad’s sheet as Mom placed a small dollop of amber sap in her palm and held it over the Shadowfire that was burning on a table at the foot of the bed. She dripped the molten sap onto Dad’s foot. It was a darker shade of amber than his shell and I watched as it passed through the shell like water in a bowl of oil. The darker sap began to entwine and elongate, wrapping around the leg like a serpent and then continued to thin, until it wrapped his entire body with a fine line just under the surface of his glass-like sarcophagus. Fand placed her hands on either side of Dad’s head and incanted in Ogham. The dark latticework spiralled and pulsed darker. Mom held Dad by his legs and swung them to the left so his right foot hung out of the bed. Even though I had seen it before, it shocked me to see Dad’s whole body move as if he were made of marble. Fand released Dad’s head and Mom cupped her hands under the foot. The dark spiral retraced its path and when Mom pulled her hands back, in her palm was the dark sap.

  Mom held the sap over the Shadowfire and Fand, on the other side of the table, placed her hands under hers. Together they chanted words that sounded so strange I wondered how their tongues could make them. The sap dripped through their fingers and onto the Shadowfire. An image formed as they withdrew and as the vision cleared I saw it was my father, standing before me, upright, naked. His body was whole except for his right hand – it was in its proper place but detached from him by a few inches. The two Shadowwitches placed their hands into the vision and caressed Dad’s shadow-form. Mom had her back to me but I could see Fand’s face. Tears formed in her eyes – I didn’t know wht that meant. A cry escaped from Mom’s throat and the two women reached for each other, breaking the vision, and embraced, both openly weeping.