by John Lenahan
I wanted to ask him more about his family but it was too cold and too dark.
‘Screw this,’ I said, standing. ‘What is the point of keeping watch if it’s so dark that you can’t even see anything coming?’ I turned to the woods. ‘And I’m freezing my butt off.’
‘You going to bed?’ Brendan asked.
‘No, I’m gonna get some firewood.’
‘From where? You’re not going to talk to those trees, are you?’
‘What are they going to do, kill me?’
‘Didn’t you tell me that there are trees in The Land that can?’
He had a point, but I ignored him. If this stupid quest was going to force me to be out of doors in the middle of the winter I was going to have a roaring fire, damn it. I walked up to the nearest pine, which wasn’t very close. We had chosen a campsite in one of the few clearings we had found. The closer I got to the trees the worse this idea got. My courage slipped out of me with every step. The faint light from our poor excuse for a campfire cast creepy shadows. I started to think, do I really need to be any warmer? I’ll just throw another blanket over me. I stopped under the huge gnarled tree. A cold sweat ran down my armpit and then a shiver shook me from ear to knee. What am I, I asked myself, am I a man or a mouse? I knew I didn’t have any cheese with me so I closed my eyes and touched my hand to the rough bark.
When you first touch most trees in The Land it’s like a brain-scan. You don’t tell them anything, they just zap into your cranium and take any information they need. I squeezed my eyes closed and waited. Nothing. I opened one eye and quietly said, ‘Hello?’
‘Are you a Pooka?’
That question shot into my head but instead of it sounding (or should I say feeling) like a nasty old hillbilly, I got the impression of a scared kid.
I tried to reply just by thinking – still nothing. Hello, I thought, then out loud I said, ‘Anybody in there?’
‘Are you a Pooka?’ the tree asked again. His voice sounded frantic, laced with childish overexcitement.
‘No, I’m …’ I sighed and admitted, ‘I’m a Faerie.’
‘Do you know where the Pookas are?’
‘No, we are looking for them ourselves.’
‘Oh, when you see them could you tell them …’
I don’t remember anything after that for a while. Brendan said I shot straight back about three feet and was out narled tr about five minutes. At first he thought I was dead. When I came to I had a huge throbbing headache and couldn’t really make sense of anything for a while. Brendan helped me over to the fire, gave me some willow tea and put me into my tent. In my dreams, I was a pinball going from pine tree to pine tree. Every time I was just ready to stop, a pine would whack me and I would bounce around the forest until I stopped at another, then I would get whacked again. I wouldn’t call my night … refreshing.
I awoke to the smell and sound of a roaring fire. Everyone was up. Essa and Nieve were in the distance with their arms around trees. Brendan handed me a cup of tea.
‘Where’d you get the firewood?’ I asked.
‘From the pines. They are very nice once you get to know them.’
‘Or until they attack you with some sort of brain-exploding beam.’
‘No one tried to explode your brain. It’s just that M over there’ – Brendan pointed to the tree I had chatted with last night – ‘has been way behind on his emailing. He got overexcited.’
‘M?’
‘Well, I can’t pronounce his name – I think it starts with an M so that’s what I call him. He likes it. He never had a nickname before. Nice kid.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘OK, here is what M and L over there’ – he pointed to a big old tree – ‘and Nieve have told me. Trees communicate with one another in The Land. Like when you told me not to talk around the beech trees because they gossip and I thought you were bonkers?’
‘Yeah.’
‘So when you enter a wood, the whole forest knows about it ’cause they talk to each other.’
‘Brendan, you’re not telling me anything I didn’t know.’
‘Yes, but that’s the point. Pine trees can’t talk to each other. And nobody knew it, except the Pookas.’
‘So why did M attack me?’
‘He didn’t attack you – he just got carried away. The Pookas carry messages from one tree to another. L, that old tree over there, told me that they do it without even thinking. Apparently Pookas just walk through the forest touching trees, picking up and dropping messages as they go. They’re like tree postal workers.’
‘So where are they?’
‘Well, L over there thinks he has seen a couple of Pookas in their animal forms but they haven’t spoken to him and he hasn’t seen one in human form since the middle of the summer. Poor M is just a kid. He hasn’t been able to send a message to any of his gang in ages. When he talked to you he got excited and loaded about five months’ worth of notes into your head. It was equivalent to having a hundred pound mailbag dropped on your noggin. He told me to tell you he was sorry.’
‘So where are the Pookas?’
‘That’s what Nieve and Essa are trying to find out. It’s slow going. Every time you talk to a tree they beg you to pass a message on for them. It’s hard to say no.’
That day’s journey was slow going. I had no intention of touching a pine again, but Essa, Araf, Brendan and Nieve had all promised a tree they would pass along a couple of messages. Turlow and I would go a couple of hundred yards and then wait while our companions zigzagged all over the forest. I got so bored with waiting, I actually struck up a conversation with the girlfriend-stealing Banshee.
‘How come you’re not playing Postman Plank?’
‘I, Prince Faerie, am not an admirer of wood.’
‘You don’t like wood?’
‘Oh, I like it fine in a chair or a fire but I don’t like trees.’
‘How can anybody not like trees?’ I asked incredulously. ‘Have you ever spoken to an oak or an apple?’
‘I do not speak with trees.’
‘Why not?’
‘If you must know, I do not like the way their roots reach in to my thinking. My mind is my own.’
‘Sounds like you have something to hide. A copy of Naughty Elves Monthly in the bottom of your sock drawer, maybe?’ He gave me that Turd-low look that translates to ‘I’ll not dignify that with an answer.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t worry about talking to these guys,’ I said. ‘They’re as thick as two planks. Get it? Planks – pine trees?’ I waited. ‘You wouldn’t laugh at my jokes even if they were funny.’
‘When it happens, Faerie, I will let you know.’
Not long after that Brendan rode up and said, ‘That’s it. I quit.’
‘What, no more neighbourhood postman for you? You will have to hand back those snazzy Bermuda shorts.’
‘Every tree wants me to send a message to ten others.’ He scratched his head with both hands. ‘It’s just not possible. The sooner we find the Pookas the better these trees will be.’
‘Poor guys, it sounds like they really miss the Pookas. They’re pining for them.’
Brendan gave me a look not unlike the one Turlow had given me moments before and kicked ahead.
‘Oh, come on,’ I called after him, ‘that was a good one.’
Chapter Nineteen
Hawathiee
That night most of the Tir-na-Nogian Postal Workers Unin Local No. 1 went to bed early – exhausted. Just Brendan and I were left to tend the roaring fire.
‘Do you still think we need to keep watch?’ Brendan asked. ‘We have been prancing around these woods all day, I don’t think there is anybody in here.’
‘Me neither but I’m keeping watch just in case one of the post-men goes berserk and shoots us all.’
Brendan laughed. It was good that there was at least one person who got my Real World jokes, even if he didn’t always laugh at them. He pulled out a couple of ti
n mugs then uncorked a bottle with his teeth and poured us both a drink.
‘To your father,’ Brendan said, holding his mug high. ‘Long live the King.’
‘Hear, hear,’ I said and drank. ‘Heeeeyooow,’ I gasped as the firewater travelled down my throat, into my chest and then exploded out of my toes. ‘Where did you get this stuff?’
‘I was really in the mood for a drink so I kind-of found it … in Essa’s bag.’
‘A thieving policeman – you should be ashamed.’
‘I am,’ he said. ‘Would you like some more?’
‘Yes please. How did you know it was there?’
‘Her father makes the stuff, so I just deduced.’
‘You know, Brendan, when you are not charging me with murder, you are quite the detective.’ I raised my glass. ‘To your little Gem,’ I toasted.
He nodded and stretched a pained smile across his face. ‘To Ruby.’
We drank and he looked at his mug for a while.
‘What’s she like?’
‘Ruby?’ He laughed. ‘She’s seven going on thirty-five. Ever since her mom died she has taken it unto herself to be the grand bossy woman of the house. When she’s home you’d hardly even know she’s blind.’
‘She’s blind?’
‘Yeah, she lost her sight in the same accident that killed my wife.’
‘What happened?’
After a deep breath Brendan said, ‘My wife liked to speed around on those back roads. Do you know Cobb Creek? It’s not that far from your place.’
‘I do. It’s nice up there. Is that where you live?’
‘Yes, my mother found the spot with her voodoo divining rods. She said there were lay-lines or some such thing there. My wife used to like my mother’s craziness. I didn’t care about energy lines; I just liked it because it is beautiful. Anyway, my wife was driving in her little red sports car with the top down, when, right outside our house, a horse ran in front of the car. We were having a conservatory built at the same time and the car slammed sideways into the truck carrying panes of glass. My wife was killed and Ruby lost her vision to flying shards.’ He stopped and took another drink.
‘My gods,’ I said and put my hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ and then with a forced smile he said, ‘More booze?’
‘I think so,’ I replied, offering my cup. ‘How long ago was this?’
‘About two and a half years.’
‘Whose horse was it?’
‘We never found out. It was injured pretty badly; my partner arrived about the same time as the ambulance and put it down. I was crazy mad and checked every farm and stable in a thirty-mile radius – no one said that they had lost a horse and I could never trace the markings on the saddle.’
‘The horse was saddled?’
‘Yes.’
‘But there was no rider?’
‘No,’ Brendan shook his head. ‘Well, if you ask Ruby about it she says otherwise.’
‘What does she say?’
‘You have to realise she was just five. She claims the horse had a rider dressed in black and that they appeared out of nowhere. She says it’s the last thing she ever saw.’
The next day everybody gave up trying to carry messages for the trees. We just weren’t up to it. The Pookas must have some special microchip in their heads ’cause we found the task impossible.
The path grew steeper but the mood was lighter. We no longer looked at each tree as a potential assassin. We saw them as they were, lost lonely souls who had been abandoned by their pastor. Oh, and I wasn’t sulking any more.
The previous night’s chat with Brendan rolled around in my noggin all morning and it sparked off memories that in turn ignited unanswered questions. As I watched my aunt riding in front of me I remembered the first time I had seen her. The memories were vivid and unsettling: Dad going berserk, throwing his axe at her head and knocking her guard off his saddle. The guard hitting the ground and instantly turning into a thousand-year-old swirl of dust. Nieve throwing a spear at me and then high-tailing it out of there and letting Cialtie’s henchmen, all dressed in black, knock us out and chain us up in Dungeon Duir.
I cantered up alongside my aunt. ‘Nieve, can I ask you a question?’
‘I’m sure you can, Conor, because you just did.’
‘Right,’ I said a bit nervously. Nieve had an uncanny ability to instantly put me ill at ease. I wondered if she did it to everyone and I also wondered if she did it on purpose. ‘Do you promise you won’t get mad at me?’
‘No,’ came her immediate reply.
‘OoooK, how about – do you promise you won’t hurt me?’
She thought about that for a moment and said, ‘No.’
‘Oh well, never mind then.’ I dropped back and waited for her curiosity to get the better of her.
A andited – and waited.
About an hour later I pulled up next to her and said, ‘OK, I know you are secretly dying to know – so here’s my question: how come you helped Cialtie find me in the Real World?’
She quickly reached her left hand into her cloak and with her right hand she reached for the short knife on her belt.
I looked around to see if anyone else was watching us – they weren’t. When I looked back Nieve had already cut the apple in her hand and handed half to me. There was a wicked twinkle in her eyes.
I took the apple half. ‘You like messing with me, don’t you?’
‘If I understand the meaning of messing with you, then yes, but don’t get too flattered.’ She leaned towards me and in a conspiratorial whisper she said, ‘I like messing with everybody.’
We rode and ate in silence for a little while. Nieve sported a little smile. I felt privileged that she shared that small secret with me. I felt like a nephew.
Finally she said, ‘I didn’t help Cialtie.’
‘Well, you showed up at my doorstep and the next thing I knew I had chains for jewellery.’
‘Do you not remember that I left when I heard Cialtie’s men approach?’
‘Yes. Why did you do that?’
‘Because I was afraid of them. I did not wish to be unseated from my horse. I’m quite fond of my looks, Conor; I would rather not look my age.’
‘So how did they find us?’
‘They followed me. Remember the soldier that was with me?’
‘The guy that fell off his horse and then dusted it?’
‘Dusted it – that is an apt way of putting it. Yes, him; I found out later that he was one of Cialtie’s spies.’
‘I feel less sorry for him now,’ I said.
‘That is what I said when I found out.’
‘So how did you find us?’
‘I’m a very good sorceress you know,’ she said without a smile. It was no brag – just fact. ‘I found a war axe that was made at the same time as your father’s axe was made. The gold inlay in the handle came from the same vein and gave off the same …’ she searched for the words, ‘magic resonance. It was not easy to track but as I said, I am very good.’
‘OK, now I see the how, but can I ask you one more question? Why? Why then? I mean, I was going to die in the Real World some day. What was your hurry?’
‘I wanted to kill you before Cialtie did.’
That was an answer I wasn’t expecting. ‘Isn’t that taking sibling rivalry a bit too far?’
‘I was satisfied with your father’s solution. I was happy to see you die in the Real World but when I learned that Caltie was using the Hall of Spells to send forays into the Real World looking for you, I had to kill you first.’
‘Why?’
‘I was afraid that Cialtie would make a big spectacle of killing you. Maybe even a public execution. I couldn’t have that. I wanted to kill you privately and cleanly.’
‘Gee, thanks – I think.’ I smiled at her but she did not return it. ‘I took no joy in that task,’ she said.
‘I know,’ I said. I put my hand on her ar
m, and then I changed the subject. ‘So Cialtie sent riders to look for me and Dad even before last summer?’
‘My information is that he was looking for years.’
‘Where did you get your information from?’
Nieve smiled. ‘Cialtie is not the only one with spies.’
That night I put it to Brendan that maybe his daughter really did see a rider dressed in black and that maybe they really did appear out of nowhere, but he got angry with me for even suggesting such nonsense and wouldn’t speak about it.
Later I was awoken by rustling in the forest. Something was moving out there and it was something big. The fire was almost out so I walked up to a nearby tree to ask for wood.
An ancient voice appeared in my head. ‘You are not Pooka.’
‘No, sir,’ I said aloud. ‘We seek the Pooka.’
‘There is Pooka in the forest tonight,’ he said.
‘Have you spoken to them?’
‘The Pooka no longer speak to me – I am alone.’
I felt so sorry for the old guy. I said, ‘I can take a message to a tree for you. Just don’t give me more than one – I can’t handle it.’ I shut my eyes expecting an onslaught of messages but none came.
‘What good is one message? The Pooka have renounced us, we are alone.’
I heard the familiar creaking of the tree sucking the moisture out of some of its limbs. I said, ‘Thank you, sir,’ and backed off before he cracked off his branches and dropped them to the ground. I stoked the fire and kept watch. I continued to hear something moving in the gloomy dark but never saw anything.
That changed the next morning. Something was in the woods, on both sides of us, and whatever is was, it was tracking us. At noon Araf said he saw a wolf. About an hour later I saw one too. Like seeing a shark’s dorsal fin in the water, seeing a wolf running low in a forest will make your heart go pitter-pat.
The higher we got in the Pinelands, the more the trees thinned and we got a better look at our escorts. It was a pack about ten strong. They shadowed us with military precision – four on each side and two slipping close in at our rear. If we turned in our saddles to look, the two that followed would slip back into the trees and wait patiently until our eyes turned ahead whthey would slink back into position. It was unnerving. Essa said she thought the Pooka headquarters was over the rise. I bit my tongue before saying, ‘You think?’ This crowd was too tense for teasing and I knew from experience that annoying a stressed Essa was a dangerous thing.