“There’s a first time for everything,” said Lana and she smiled at Cordelia.
“It’s beautiful,” said Nerissa.
“You’ll be the topic of conversation on everyone’s lips,” said Masika.
Cordelia looked disappointed.
“Why must you say such things?” asked Nerissa. “You’re in a strange mood this morning.”
“That would be typical, wouldn’t it?” said Cordelia. “People talked about me because I had grey hair and now they’ll talk about me because it’s not grey anymore. They’ll probably say I’m a witch.”
Lana and the twins sensed the despair in Cordelia’s voice and they huddled around their friend, hugging her tight. Cordelia wanted to yelp from the pain in her shoulder blades but she daren’t. The hair was one thing but feathers sprouting from her shoulders was not something she was about to share. She looked Masika in the eyes to sense if she was reading her mind; at this moment, there was nothing to suggest that she was. The girls released their hug.
“A lot happened last night Cordelia,” said Lana, “are you sure you’re okay?”
Cordelia shrugged.
“I’m sure everything will work out,” said Nerissa, hopefully.
“You were there, weren’t you?” said Masika in a brusque tone.
“There’s no need to be like that,” said Nerissa. “I’m just trying to help.”
“Neither of you are being particularly helpful,” said Lana.
“Sorry,” said Nerissa, looking rather disheartened.
“It’s me who should be apologising,” said Cordelia. “I ruined your evening. I ruined everyone’s evening.”
“Have you spoken to either of them since?” asked Lana.
Cordelia shook her head. “It’s all such a mess.”
“Flynn just needs time to get used to the idea,” said Lana. “It all came as a bit of a shock, that’s all. Let the dust settle. I’m sure he’ll come round.”
“I doubt it,” said Cordelia.
“Maybe you should talk to Breck,” said Nerissa.
“Maybe he’s been able to talk Flynn round.”
“They’ve probably killed each other,” said Cordelia, “and it’s all my fault.”
“You weren’t to know that Flynn was Breck’s father,” said Lana.
“No, but I have known for a while,” said Cordelia, “and I did nothing about it. I should have ended it.”
“But you love Breck,” said Nerissa. “That must count for something.”
“I do love him,” said Cordelia. “That’s why I can’t ask him to choose me over his own father. I’ll tell them it was a mistake. It’s over.”
Masika spotted the book, open on Cordelia’s bed. “Is there something you need to tell us?”
Lana and Nerissa wondered what on earth Masika was talking about until Masika picked up the book and showed them the page about Pooka.
“I was going to tell you,” said Cordelia.
“Tell us what?” asked Lana.
“She’s seen Pooka,” said Masika. “This morning.”
As Masika spoke of Pooka, the candles flickered. Nerissa’s eyes widened and she hugged herself.
“I thought we’d spoken about this,” said Cordelia. “Stop reading my thoughts, please.”
“You can’t keep something like this to yourself,” said Masika. “This affects us all.”
“I was going to tell you.”
“Everyone calm down,” said Lana. “Have you told anyone else?”
“Only Wade,” said Cordelia. “He lent me the book. Oh, and Nixie.”
“Did Wade offer any advice?” asked Masika.
“Not really,” said Cordelia, “he just said to read the book.”
“I don’t think we should panic,” said Lana. “Mother always said to surround myself with shamrock to ward off Pooka.”
“Does it work?” asked Nerissa.
“I don’t know,” said Lana. “I’ve never had the need to try it.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” said Cordelia, smiling.
“I think we should tell someone,” said Nerissa.
“She’s right,” said Lana. “I’ll let father know. He’ll pass the message on.”
“What exactly does Pooka do?” asked Cordelia.
“Causes mischief,” said Nerissa. “Usually at night.”
“It’s a little more than mischief,” said Masika. “It’s horrible. It terrorizes people. Who knows the harm it could cause.”
“If we see Pooka coming, we can stop it, can’t we?” asked Cordelia.
“We could try, if we see it,” said Lana, “but we might not. Pooka can take on any form.”
“How did Pooka appear to you?” asked Nerissa.
“A dark horse,” said Cordelia.
“I still think…” began Lana before being interrupted by a loud knock at the door.
The girls froze like statues, only their eyes moved as they exchanged sideways glances. The knock came again.
“Cordelia, are you in there?”
Hearing Mazu’s voice, Cordelia held her hand over her chest as she slowly exhaled her pent-up breath and sig-naled to Lana to open the door. Cordelia nervously toyed with her hair as the door swung open. She studied Mazu’s expression intently, desperate to know what Mazu really thought of her sudden change in appearance. Mazu’s eyes widened for a brief moment and she smiled but there was something awkward about it.
“Trying a new look are you?” asked Mazu, her head slightly tilted.
Cordelia tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come out.
“It suits you.”
“Than…” began Cordelia.
“Wade came to see me earlier. Triton has called an emergency meeting in the dining hall.”
Cordelia’s eyes grew wide with panic.
“Don’t worry,” said Mazu, “you haven’t done anything wrong.”
Cordelia didn’t know what she was more worried about, the fact she was the cause of an emergency meeting on a Sunday morning or the fact that she would have to showcase her hair to the entire school far earlier than anticipated. She took a deep breath and filed into the tunnel between her friends who acted as a security blanket on the off chance that someone might make an unwelcome comment.
No sooner had the girls entered the dining hall, they sensed an undercurrent of hushed remarks, groans and ripples of laughter. Cordelia clocked Wade sitting at the teacher’s table, he lifted his chin upwards and winked. Digging deep into her soul, Cordelia found the courage to follow Wade’s advice. Walking through the hustle and bustle of the dining hall in search of a seat, she lifted her head high and smiled. Inside, Cordelia felt anxious and vulnerable but outside she portrayed a beautiful, confident young woman and the hushed remarks dwindled.
The girls took their seats at a table with Lorelei and Genevieve, the twins from Germany. When everyone was present, Triton banged his cane on the floor three times and the dining hall fell silent.
“I’m sorry to call a meeting on a Sunday,” he began, “especially at such an early hour.”
Hushed moans echoed amongst the students.
“But,” continued Triton authoritatively, “I would not call upon you if it wasn’t a matter of importance. It has been brought to my attention that Pooka is in Kilfearagh and has presented itself to one of our fellow students in the form of a dark horse.”
Restless chatter erupted in the dining hall.
“Silence!” commanded Triton. “We’ve reason to believe that Pooka is in a menacing mood and is certainly looking for mischief, and perhaps more. We’ll gather as much shamrock as we can and we’ll surround ourselves with it until Pooka moves on. No-one is to venture out after dusk while Pooka is here and if you hear anyone calling your name during the dark hours, you do not leave. You ignore it. Pooka likes nothing more than to take someone on a wild ride.”
“I bet it’s got something to do with her,” said Max who was sitting at a nearby table.
; Everyone within earshot turned and stared at the new blonde.
“We finally get rid of the Sirens and now she brings a goblin to our door,” complained Max.
Rafe sat quietly. He was completely smitten with this girl but too much of a coward to jump to her defence. Cordelia ignored them, instead remaining firmly focused on the teachers at the front.
“Are you okay?” mouthed Marilla.
Cordelia subtly nodded and kept a calm, poised demeanour.
At the tavern that night you could have cut the atmosphere with a knife as tension grew between Flynn and Breck. Flynn was so inebriated that Breck had been running things alone. After closing, Breck went straight to bed, leaving Flynn in a stupefied state downstairs. He wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey or whether he really could hear someone calling his name.
“We’re closed,” murmured Flynn. Then he heard his name again. “We’re closed!” he called, stumbling to the door to see who it was.
Flynn opened the door and stared open mouthed. He blinked a few times but the sleek, dark horse with golden eyes remained. Flynn tripped over the threshold.
“Where did you come from then?” asked Flynn, reaching out his hand to stroke the horse.
“I’ve come from the mountains,” said Pooka, “to take you on a wild ride.”
Before Flynn could respond he found himself gripping tightly to the long, flowing mane as Pooka galloped through town and countryside knocking down fences, wrecking gardens and trampling crops. No matter how hard he tried, Flynn could not shake himself free. He had no control. He was pulled this way and that at such speed through the cold, frigid night air and with such force that his stomach felt uneasy. He had not signed up for this rodeo.
Just before dawn, Pooka returned to the bay and threw Flynn off outside the lighthouse where he lay unconscious and covered in bruises. Some would say that Pooka was being mischievous, having a bit of fun, but Pooka’s game night wasn’t over yet. Pooka ran between the horses, making them excited, then ran ahead of them, tempting them forward. This goblin led them in a merry dance and they unwittingly followed it straight off the cliff top.
NINETEEN
White Horses
When Rafe and Max went outside to tend to the horses the next morning, an eerie void filled the air. It was always quiet on the cliff top, but not this quiet. The sky was pale grey, the water looked strangely black and the wind whipped at their shirts. Rafe and Max looked for the horses, slowly turning in circles as they searched.
“Where the blazes are the horses?” asked Max in frustration.
“I don’t know,” said Rafe, “but he might.”
Max followed Rafe’s gaze to the cliff edge where Flynn was lying on his back in the wet grass. They marched towards him.
“He looks a bit worse for wear,” said Rafe.
“Wake up,” said Max, sternly.
There was no response.
“Flynn! Wake up!” demanded Max and shoved him with his boot.
Startled, Flynn opened his eyes and tried to sit up. He groaned, placing a hand on his ribs.
“What the bloody hell have you done with our horses?!” asked Max.
Flynn looked confused and slowly scanned his surroundings. “What am I doing here?”
“We were hoping you could tell us that,” said Rafe.
“Come on, what’ve you done with them?” asked Max, doing his best to hold it together.
“With what?” asked Flynn.
“Don’t play games with me,” said Max.
“We just want to know where the horses are,” said Rafe.
“I don’t know,” said Flynn. “I’ve no idea where the horses are.”
“Then would you mind telling us what you’re doing up here in this state?” said Rafe. “Have you been in a fight?”
“No,” said Flynn, confused. “I haven’t been fighting with anyone.”
“Then what were you doing last night,” asked Max. Flynn frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t recall.”
Flynn tried to stand up but fell straight back down again.
“I’ll fetch Cordelia,” said Rafe.
Meanwhile at the tavern, Breck was woken by the sound glass smashing downstairs. He groaned and rolled over, thinking it was Flynn. Then he heard it again, more glass breaking. Now more alert, he opened his eyes and listened carefully. He was certain he could hear voices, and more than one set of footsteps on the wooden floor below. Breck threw the bed covers back and leapt out of bed, pulling on his trousers and boots as fast as he could. His loud footsteps on the stairs frightened off the children who’d been taking their chances with an unattended bar. Breck locked the front doors and called Flynn’s name but there was no answer. He cleared up the broken bottles, washed and dressed and went into the yard.
Misty did not seem her usual relaxed self; her head was elevated as though she was trying to focus on something in the distance and her ears were flicking back and forth.
“Hey, what’s spooked you?” asked Breck, gently holding Misty’s face to try and refocus her. “I need your help, I can’t carry the turf back on my own.”
Misty snorted and swished her tail as Breck attached the cart. They began the journey to the peat bog but they hadn’t even reached the sea wall when Breck realised something was amiss. A crowd had gathered along the promenade and beach and a feeling of unease filled the air as a heavy cloud rested over this seaside community. Misty whinnied as they drew nearer and came to a halt.
“Come on girl,” said Breck, but Misty would not take another step forward.
Breck jumped down to the ground and stroked Misty’s soft nose. She splayed her front legs to the side and leaned back.
“Steady girl,” said Breck, concerned.
Just then the gardai walked down the slip way onto the sand, followed by a reporter. It was then that Breck knew something serious had happened. Leaving Misty by the side of the road, he made his way onto the beach, squeezing his way through the crowd.
Breck spotted Jerry and asked, ‘What’s going on?”
“It’s the horses,” said Jerry. “Such a terrible loss.”
Breck edged closer to the front of the crowd and there he saw them, twelve white horses scattered across the beach, their bodies partially buried in the sand. The only movement was their flowing manes being gently caressed by the wind.
“What a ghastly sight,” said a man visiting from Limerick. “We came for the fresh sea air, not this.”
“Spare a thought for the horses,” said Jerry.
“It’s really quite mystifying,” said a woman, dressed in her Sunday best.
Breck recognised those horses immediately. He turned, pushing his way through the crowd and ran back up to the road. Misty snorted and lowered her head as Breck approached. He rubbed her face and pressed his forehead against hers.
“I’m sorry,” he said. The pair of them stood by the roadside, quietly acknowledging the death of the horses. When a few moments had passed, Breck whispered to Misty, “Take me to Cordelia.”
Breck unhitched the cart from Misty at the peat bog and galloped over the cliff top. He could see a group of people gathered outside the lighthouse but as they approached the site where the horses had gone over the edge, Misty came to a sudden halt, almost throwing Breck from her back. He jumped down and Misty danced in circles before cantering back to the bog.
Cordelia, Lana and the twins were tending to Flynn while Rafe and Max stood rigidly with their arms folded, glaring at Breck.
“What’s he doing here?” asked Rafe.
“Two visitors in one day Cordelia, aren’t you the popular one,” said Max.
The girls looked up, surprised to see Breck hurrying towards them.
“Come to fetch this one, have you?” asked Max.
“I didn’t know he was here,” said Breck.
“Haven’t you been worried about him?” asked Cordelia.
“Not really,” said Breck, puzzled by Cordelia’s change in appearance. “He was drunk all
last night, looks like he still is.”
“Well now you’re here, you can take him home,” said Max.
Breck’s melancholy eyes met Cordelia’s.
“What is it?” asked Cordelia.
Breck couldn’t tell if they already knew.
“Spit it out,” said Rafe.
“The horses.”
“What about the horses?” asked Max. “D’you know where they are?”
Breck gulped. “It’s not good news. They’ve washed up on the beach.”
Max lunged towards Flynn with his fist.
“Stop it!” screeched Cordelia.
Rafe pulled Max away, holding him by the elbows.
“What did you do to them?” shouted Max.
“I didn’t do anything,” said Flynn, “I wouldn’t.”
“Then explain what you’re doing up here, covered in bruises while the horses are lying dead down there,” said Rafe, pointing towards the bay.
Cordelia edged away from Flynn, confused by what she was hearing. “How could you?” she asked. “Is this my punishment because you disapprove of my feelings for Breck?”
“It wasn’t him,” said Masika, who’d been quietly tapping into Flynn’s mind. “It was Pooka.”
Nobody quite knew what to say.
“This is your fault,” said Max, pointing at Cordelia. “We were fine until you turned up.”
“That’s no way to speak to a woman,” said Breck.
“Is that right?” asked Max. “She’s been nothing but trouble since she arrived.”
“I’m sorry,” said Cordelia.
“You’re not the one who needs to apologise,” said Breck.
Max caught Breck off guard and punched him in the mouth, knocking him backwards to the ground. Breck could taste the blood on his lips. Max pulled at Breck’s blood stained shirt, lifting his head off the ground. Max raised his fist.
“Max, come on,” said Rafe, “he’s not worth it.”
The girls rose to their feet, wondering where this was leading.
“I know you’re upset about the horses,” said Breck.
Max pounded his fist into Breck’s face. Breck retreated, shuffling backwards, closer to the cliff edge. Max advanced, looming over him.
ELEMENTS: Acquiesce Page 26