by John Lenahan
Getting Brendan an audience with my mother wasn’t easy. Once Dad had stabilised, Fand had ordered Mom to rest. She agreed and slept but as soon as she woke up she threw herself into the task of queening Castle Duir. It took me a couple of days to get the cop in to see her.
Mom stared hard at the detective when he walked into the room. ‘I remember you,’ she said with narrowing eyes. ‘You are the man that imprisoned my son. You pointed a weapon at me. Conor, what is he doing here?’
‘I need to get back,’ Brendan said.
Mom shot him a spectacularly dirty look and said, ‘You will speak when spoken to.’
Wow, even I took an involuntary step back. I had forgotten how menacing Mom can be when she is in her bear cub guarding mode. She turned her back on Brendan and took a step towards me. ‘Now, Conor, what is he doing here?’
dth="5%">Brendan said, ‘You don’t understand,’ and then did that really foolish thing. He grabbed her wrist.
I guess I should have warned Brendan about touching a woman in The Land when she doesn’t want or expect it. I had learned that lesson the hard way with Essa but it didn’t even come close to how hard Brandon’s lesson was with my mother. In a matter of nanoseconds she turned her wrist, broke the detective’s grasp, grabbed his arm, placed her foot in his stomach, and then vaulted him clear over her head. Brendan sailed a good seven feet in the air before luckily hitting the back of a sofa. If the manoeuvre had been in any other direction he would have hit a wall. I ran over and righted the couch and then helped the dazed Brendan into it.
‘Sit here and don’t say a word,’ I said.
Brendan’s reply was a predictable, ‘Owww.’
I approached my mother slowly. She was still in an attack stance and was breathing heavily.
‘Someone should teach him not to do that.’
‘I think you just did, Mom – and very impressively too, I might add. Let’s all take a deep breath and calm down a little.’
Mom unclenched her fists. I took a seat and motioned for her to do the same. As she sat, she kept an eye on Brendan.
‘Relax, Mom, I’m sure he won’t try anything again. Will you, Brendan?’
‘Owww,’ Brendan repeated.
Mom finally turned to me. I smiled at her but she wasn’t quite ready to return it. ‘You still haven’t told me what he is doing here.’
It’s not like she had given me much of a chance but I decided to keep that comment to myself – enough feathers had been ruffled already. ‘Brendan followed us through that portal you made.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘The portal was designed for the three of us and our horses – part of that spell was Truemagic, it should have killed someone from the Real World.’
‘Well, I hate to disagree with you on a point of magic but there he is.’
‘Strange things happen during Samhain,’ Mom mumbled under her breath as she approached Brendan. ‘Why did you incarcerate my son?’
Brendan didn’t answer but the question succeeded in stopping him from saying, ‘Oww, oww, oww,’ over and over again.
‘Mom, he was just doing his job.’
Mom gave me a sharp look and said, ‘I am speaking to him.’
‘He’s right, ma’am,’ Brendan said with a mixture of respect and fear. ‘I was just doing my job.’
‘And what job is that?’
‘I’m a policeman,’ he said but when he realised she didn’t understand he sighed, ‘I catch and punish evildoers.’
‘And what evil could this sweet boy have done?’
‘I thought he had killed his father.’
‘And why would you have thought that?’
‘Well, the house was trashed, his father was missing and he was spending his money.’
‘Money?’ Mom asked, turning to me.
‘Like gold,’ I said.
‘I thought people in the Real World didn’t use magic. What would they want with gold?’
I hadn’t thought of that before but now wasn’t the time to explain micro-economics to my mother. So I said, ‘We just kinda like it ’cause it’s shiny.’
‘Did my son not explain to you about his father?’
‘Yes, ma’am, he did but I didn’t believe him.’
‘Do you believe him now?’
Brendan paused for a moment and said, ‘Yes, ma’am, I do. That is why I wanted to speak to you. I must return home.’
‘How exactly did you get here?’
‘I don’t remember much, I was a bit out of it, but I remember grabbing onto a horse’s tail and then I remember Conor clubbing me over the head. The next thing I know I was here.’
‘You grabbed onto the horse?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Mom walked back into the centre of the room, thinking. ‘I see. Well, Mr …’
‘Fallon, Brendan Fallon.’
‘Well, Brendan, I see how you have arrived here but I still do not know how you survived the journey.’
‘Well, I’m here and I need to return. The Fand woman said you could get me back.’
‘I am sure I can, see me next Samhain.’
‘And when is that?’
‘In a wee bit less than a year.’
‘A year!’ Brendan was on his feet. ‘I can’t wait a year.’
‘Why so long?’ I asked.
‘If I had known you were here earlier then things would be different but sending a mortal back now when the Real World and The Land are apart would be too dangerous – if it was two days ago, then maybe.’
‘I’ve been trying to see you for a week!’ Brendan said, raising his voice, which, by the look on my mother’s face, wasn’t appreciated.
I was about to intervene but then I saw my mother’s countenance soften. ‘I am sorry for your predicament but I only learned of your existence today. I have been quite preoccupied.’
‘Is there no other way?’ I asked.
‘The only way to safely return him is to use the same piece of gd that I used to bring him here, but I no longer have it.’
‘Where is it?’ I asked.
‘It’s in your father’s mouth.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘What?’ Brendan said.
‘I placed the gold disc that I used to open the portal in Oisin’s mouth so he would not suffocate while we encased him in Shadowmagic,’ Mom said.
‘So open him up and get the disc,’ Brendan demanded.
‘That would be far too dangerous,’ Mom said. ‘We were fortunate that the process worked the first time. I will not unnecessarily endanger the Lord of Duir a second time.’
‘Unnecessarily,’ Brendan shouted, ‘you are going to maroon me in this god-forsaken place, while my loony-tune mother pollutes my daughter’s brain with a caravan full of hippy tree-hugging crap?’
‘If the girl’s grandmother is teaching your daughter to hug trees, then I suspect she is in good hands.’ Mom sat back at her desk and took up a pen. ‘I’m sorry but that is my final word on the subject.’
I wouldn’t say Brendan is a stupid man, but on occasion he is a slow learner. He grabbed Mom’s hand and started to say, ‘You don’t—’
Because Mom was sitting this time she flipped him with her shoulder instead of her foot. On the plus side, Brendan didn’t travel as fast or as far as before. On the minus side, he didn’t make it to the couch. He took a long time getting up.
I put Brendan to bed with some poteen. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t retangle with Mom. Still, for his own safety, I reposted Frick and Frack outside the door. Brendan didn’t realise that those two judo throws were Mom’s idea of restraint. If he tried something like that again, I wouldn’t be surprised if she killed him.
I went back to my room and stared at the chipped wood panelling wishing Dahy was here so I could borrow a throwing knife. Actually I wished anybody was there. I had spent ages longing to return to The Land and now that I was here I was miserable and lonely. Da
d was sealed in another world. Mom was preoccupied with castle duties and when she wasn’t, she was sitting up all night with Fand in their Shadowmagic laboratory. Araf is a great friend on an adventure but for just hanging out, he can actually make me feel more alone than when I’m alone. And, of course, everything I saw in The Land reminded me of Fergal. Man, I missed him. And every time I was low and alone I would inevitably replay the moment Cialtie stuck a knife in his chest, and in every rerun I could do nothing to stop it.
And where the hell was Essa? No one could tell me where she was. Ah Essa – when I wasn’t replaying Fergal’s demise I was replaying my farewell with her. I may not have been able to save my cousin but I sure as hell could have handled my last moments with Essa better. I could have forgiven her – I should have forgiven her – I should have stayed with her. Instead I went back to Sally. I wonder if I could possibly have been more of an idiot. I went to sleep and dreamt of all of the stupid things I had done in my life. It was a very long night.
I had just gotten to about the age of twelvwhere I broke my arm in a bouncy castle accident, when Mom woke me up very excited. I popped up quickly, holding my elbow. She had a wild-eyed look, like a student who had studied all night and drunk thirty cups of coffee. Over her shoulder hung a satchel.
‘Conor, you must see this!’ she said as she bounded off the bed and grabbed a book off the bookshelf. ‘I think Fand and I have finally done it.’
‘Done what?’ I asked with a morning voice that made me sound as if I had been gargling with ground glass.
She opened the book, tore out half of a page from the middle and handed it to me. I was still dopey from sleep and stared at the piece of paper wondering what the hell she wanted me to do with it. Then she handed me a gold brooch with an amber stone set in.
‘Clip it onto the piece of paper,’ she said, bouncing on her toes like a kid showing off a new toy. ‘Go on.’
I looked at the brooch. It was about the size of a half dollar with a spring in the back that allowed it to move like a bulldog clip. I pinched it open and clipped it onto the piece of paper. The paper started to glow with an amber light, then so did my hand where I was touching it. An all too familiar tingling sensation began in my fingers. It felt exactly like when I was under attack from a relative, and Mom’s protective spell had just kicked in. I dropped the paper and clip and jumped straight up looking around my room for the source of the attack. There was none. When I realised I wasn’t glowing any more I looked down on my bed and there attached to Mom’s new brooch was a shining translucent book. I picked it up. It tingled in my hand but it felt real. On the cover I could faintly make out the title. It was the same as the book that Mom had just ripped the page from. In my hands it seemed to weigh the same as a regular book and when I opened it, the clear pages turned just like paper.
‘What … what is it?’ I asked.
‘For want of a better word it is a Shadowbook. It’s a hybrid of Truemagic and Shadowmagic. The paper, in a way, remembers the rest of the book.’
I turned the Shadowpages. It was strange still being able to see my fingers through what felt like a solid thing. As I moved the book around in the light I saw faint glimmerings on the pages but nothing legible.
‘It’s a shame you can’t read it, though.’
‘Ah ha!’ Mom exclaimed. ‘Here is the cold part.’
‘The cold part?’
‘Is not that what you say?’
I laughed, ‘You mean the cool part.’
‘Right, the cool part.’ She opened her satchel and took out a clipboard-sized sheet of gold and laid it on the bed. When she placed the Shadowbook on top of it, the words appeared almost as if the book was real.
‘Wow, Mom, that is very cold.’
It wasn’t until her face lit up with pride that I realised that one of the things I missed most during this trip to The Land was my mother’s smile.
She gave me a hug and then quickly picked up her things and hurried to the door. ‘Itshouldn’t take too long for Fand and me to make a few more clips. I imagine we could leave the day after tomorrow.’
‘Leave for where?’
‘The Hazellands. We are going to find a cure for your father in the Hall of Knowledge.’
Chapter Seven
The Armoury
I listened for the sound of smashing furniture as I approached Brendan’s room. Frick (or was it Frack) said that he had been eerily silent. I stuck my head around the door and found Brendan in bed staring at the ceiling.
‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’
‘As far as I can tell, yes.’
‘Then I’m not all right.’
‘So you’re just going to sulk?’
‘What else is there to do?’ he said. ‘I’m stuck here for at least a year. God knows what my life, my career and my little girl will be like in a year’s time. I’m under house arrest, followed around by two dolts who keep staring at me like they expect horns to grow out of my head. And I can’t even read a book ’cause everything is written in some ancient language that, although I can magically speak it and understand it, I can’t read it. And before you offer – there is no way I’m going to let that aunt of yours do that molten gold thing to my eyes.’
‘I’m sorry, Brendan, but this isn’t my fault and there is nothing I can do.’
‘Yeah, I know. I’ve been lying here thinking about it all morning – it’s my fault.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t say that. How about we say it’s nobody’s fault?’
‘No,’ Brendan sighed. ‘It’s my fault. It started when I arrested an innocent man. Don’t get me wrong, I had pretty good reason but, in the end, I arrested a man for a crime that not only had he not committed – it was a crime that never even happened. No good can ever come from something that starts like that. So as much as I would like to blame you – this is mostly my fault.’
‘Well, if you insist,’ I said, ‘but don’t beat yourself up too much – it could have happened to anyone.’
‘Thanks,’ he said, finally looking at me. ‘So this is really … real then?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘And I have been acting like a serious jerk?’
‘That too, I’m afraid, is true.’
Brendan plac his hand over his face in embarrassment. ‘Oh my God, I rapped on your father’s forehead like it was a door. Oh, I am so sorry, Conor.’
‘Yeah, that was pretty bad.’
‘Oh and the furniture and the … I really am sorry, Conor,’ he said, sitting up. ‘But in my defence, I did think I was going to wake up at any moment.’
‘Fair enough, apology accepted.’ I held out my hand. ‘Shall we start over?’
‘I’d like that,’ he said, shaking it.
I had come in to tell him that I was leaving for a few days but instead I said, ‘How about a road trip?’
That piqued his interest. ‘To where?’
‘The Hazellands.’
‘Isn’t that where the Leprechaun army is stationed?’
‘Oh my gods, you were listening to me.’
‘I’m a man of my word, Conor. I didn’t believe or care about your story the first time you babbled it but the second time I promised I would listen and I did. Since Fand convinced me I wasn’t dreaming, I’ve been going over your adventure in my head. Did all of that stuff really happen?’
‘Yes,’ I said, chuckling. ‘Don’t feel bad about not believing me. I sometimes have trouble believing it myself. But to answer your question, no, the Leprechaun army was disbanded and I don’t know what’s there now.’
‘Who else is coming?’ Brendan said, hopping up and dressing. ‘Is that what’s-her-name that trashed my police station and burned my ear coming?’
‘You mean Aunt Nieve? I don’t know.’
‘How about the woman who throws me across the room with regularity?’
‘Yes, I’m sure Mom is coming.’
‘Who else?’
&nbs
p; ‘Araf probably.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘He’s the guy who threw me the stick when I hit you on the head.’
‘The first time you hit me or the second time?’
‘The second time – gosh, you have been having a rough time lately, but The Land’s like that in the beginning. It’ll get better. Can I buy you some lunch?’
‘You’re getting to know me, Conor. My wife used to do the same thing. Whenever she saw me getting down she would only have to feed me and I was happy again.’
‘Well then, let’s get the chef to whip up something special. And if you like I’ll teach you how to read Gaelic – since you can speak it, it shouldn’t be too hard.’
After Dad regained the throne, in what is now called the Troid e Ewan Macha, or The Battle of the Twins of Macha, I had a lot of time on hands and I spent most of it exploring Castle Duir. I even revisited the dungeon and issued my one and only executive order to have the cells cleaned out. I still feel sorry for whoever got that job. The only place that I never got to see was the armoury. After the battle, Dad still couldn’t be sure if there were any of Cialtie’s loyal followers still lurking around incognito, so he decided to seal off the weapons room until security could be normalised.
So that made this trip to the armoury my first one. Brendan and I hiked to the north wing, sailed past three sets of ten-hutting armed guards and found ourselves in front of a set of huge oak doors inlaid with a fine gold latticework.
Light flooded the hallway as we pushed our way in. Like Gerard’s armoury, this was a glass-roofed gymnasium, but size-wise it made the winemaker’s weapons room seem like a walk-in closet. Racks upon racks contained carefully stacked weapons: swords, axes, maces and rows and rows of banta sticks. Tournament practice areas were marked off on the floor and the entire far length of the room was an impossibly long archery range that could accommodate eight archers abreast, each with their own targets. At the far end there was a huge contraption that looked like it might be a catapult.
‘Wow,’ I said.
The sound of Brendan’s and my footsteps echoed in the huge space. Surprisingly there was no one around.