"I think so. And my strengths are that I can turn a troll into ash?"
Dian slipped his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. "Your shillelagh acts as a focus of your will. It will have the same limits you have. Meaning belief is key. Your want and need have to reflect your heart's desire. For instance…you may want to elicit vengeance for someone doing a wrong, but that's a surface want. Your heart knows it's wrong to kill, if it detects there could be other factors involved in you being wronged, the shillelagh will sense that conflict and it won't act."
"He's right," Bogs said. "In fact, if you make it do something your heart disapproves of, you'll feel the consequences. So always be careful, boy-o."
"But…I destroyed that troll." Tam looked at each of them. "I mean I obliterated him. And I knew I was doing it."
"Because he tortured you." Bogs sat forward. "He broke your body and tried to control your mind. He hurt you, and you'd never touched him or done anything to make him hurt you. Your heart knew Magnus acted on pure selfish wants and needs. And"—the old Leprechaun gave Tam a half-smile—"he hurt your Clurichaun. But she's not only that, she's your friend. Your heart knew the command was true, so the shillelagh did its job."
Tam looked at his arm and imagined the vine tattoos beneath the sleeve of the hoodie. It did indeed. "So…you said Áine was alive. Can I see her? Will she live?"
"Here we go," Bogs said.
Tam ignored Bogs and looked at Dian. "What?"
Dian took in a deep breath and released it as he turned back to the window. Tam joined him and looked out over the city. He could see their reflections in the glass. "I'm a healer. In fact, at one time, I was considered a god."
"That was a long, long time ago."
Tam gave Bogs a dirty look before he looked at Dian's profile. "Go on."
"But over time, living here in this world, my power has waned. I am able to heal one thing, others I can only patch, but not mend completely. The Clurichaun's wound with the iron pipe should be fatal. I've halted her life, but only for a time." He turned toward Tam, and for a moment, he thought he saw the man's true age in his eyes. "There is a well I blessed some time ago. A well of healing water. It still retains a great deal of my power. It was a place the Daoine Sidhe could go and heal anything."
"Anything?"
"Except a missing head," Bogs piped up. "Don't forget that little mishap."
Dian's lips twitched. "A severed head is a problem and nothing I know of will breathe life back into friend or foe who loses theirs. But it is a place that will heal Áine."
"Then let's go there." Tam pulled his hands from the hoodie's pockets and started to head to the door, but stopped when he saw neither Dian nor Bogs moving. He moved in front of Dian, blocking his view of the city. "What are you not telling me? Is the well in Faery? Is that it?"
"No. It's in this world. I just can't…" Dian finally shrugged. "I can't get to it."
"No…" Bogs said as he stood up. "No lies, Dian. Tell the truth."
"Come on, you two! We have to save Áine." He looked from one to the other.
Dian looked angry, and Tam thought he saw his eyes flash red. "No, Bogs. Some things should be left in the past. And don't give me the same schtick about reliving it if we don't face it. I've faced it. Every waking hour since that old crow took everything from us."
"Does it have anything to do with healing Áine? This past thing?" Tam asked.
"No."
"Then screw it. Just tell me what you want. It has to do with me, doesn't it? Otherwise, you wouldn't have given us help, and you wouldn't have asked to see the shillelagh. You want something, Dian Cécht. What is it?"
Quiet crept into the room and brought with it a cold, icy feeling that moved over the tiled floors. Everything stopped in that moment as Dian turned a stony face to Tam. "You."
Chapter 6
This time the shillelagh manifested unbidden in his hand as Tam felt a surge of power and a basic need to protect himself. He held it out in front of himself and took a step back. "I think you need to explain that a bit better."
Bogs got on his feet, laughing. "Easy, boy-o. Calm down. Dian's not like the Morrigan. He doesn't want to control you. He just needs…favors."
"From time to time." Dian visibly shrank away from the shillelagh as Tam held it between them. The thing pulsed with a subtle green light. "I have one in particular right now."
"The well." Tam figured that one out pretty quick. "What does this have to do with the well?"
"The well is in the middle of the Morrigan's human gardens," Dian said. He relaxed. A little. "She takes a dip in that well from time to time. It prolongs her life and zaps the Earth of her strength. Not because the magic is weak, but because the Morrigan takes too much. Controlling the entire Unseelie population takes a lot out of her on a daily basis."
Tam raked his fingers through his hair as he turned away from Bogs and Dian and looked out over the cityscape. He caught a glimpse of his ears in the reflection as he lowered the shillelagh and put the fingertips of his right hand on the glass. It was cold, hard, and soulless. "We have to put Áine in that well."
"Yes."
"And the only way to get to it, has to do with the shillelagh."
"Again, yes."
Tam refocused on Dian's reflection. "But you don't want to just use it. You want to take it back. You want to run the Morrigan out of there and reclaim the well."
"No."
The answer stunned Tam. He turned away from the window and stared at Dian. "No?"
"No. I don't want anything that old crow has touched. What I want is much more…complicated. And I'm not sure you're up to the challenge." Tam cleared the room in a blink and stood inches from Dian.
It was only a second before Tam raised the shillelagh and the tall Faery was thrown back. He sailed through the air and crashed into the fountain, knocking it over and cracking it into several pieces.
Bogs jumped up as the door opened and an army of black-clad men with machine guns filed in. They formed a ring around Tam and pointed their guns.
"Wait," Dian called out from behind them. "Stop. There's no need. You're dismissed."
The men in black lowered their weapons and filed back out of the room. Tam, still holding the shillelagh in front of him, saw Bogs fishing Dian out of the rubble of the now destroyed fountain. "That…was quite a show."
"I apologize. I told them to remain on standby, but not to come until called." Dian was more than wet; he was drenched. His blond hair was plastered to his head, and his suit stuck to him, making him appear even thinner.
"But…I attacked you." Tam narrowed his eyes.
"No, I came at you, and you reacted, just like you're supposed to. The fight to survive is built into the shillelagh. As I said before, it is your will. And having been kidnapped and tortured recently, your will to survive has grown. I think you would have reacted slower if this event hadn't happened." He brushed Bogs off of him and stood dripping in his living room. "We can save Áine's life. The well is the key. But we have to do it before the Morrigan discovers you have the shillelagh. If she knows, she'll build her defenses against you, as well as triple her offense to capture you. There won't be a better time to get to the well."
Tam wasn't sure he believed everything Dian said. He wanted to. After all, this was a figure of authority, someone he'd looked up to for a while in the electronic and gaming world. But this guy wanted to breach the garden of what everyone was telling him was a crazy, powerful Faery whose only connection to Tam was the desire to take, destroy, or control his shillelagh.
"It's a big task, boy-o," Bogs said. "You don't have to do this."
"I have to save Áine." Tam lowered the shillelagh as it vanished from his hand. "I was just getting to know her. I mean, think of how great it'll be if I can rescue her? But if you don't want to take the well back, then what do you want to do with it?"
"I want you to destroy it. All of it. Without the well, the Morrigan can't keep regenerating. And witho
ut replenishing her power, she'll lose it, and her hold over Faery."
Tam couldn't argue with that. If Dian Cécht wanted to destroy one of his own creations, then so be it. The only thing worrying him, now that he had his shillelagh, was healing Áine. "And you believe the shillelagh can do that?"
"Oh. No. Only I can destroy it. I just need you to get us to it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to change before we get going." He turned away.
"Now?" Tam said.
Dian paused. "Would prefer to wait until Áine dies of her injuries? Get ready, Leprechaun. You're about to test your power and your weaknesses."
Chapter 7
Apparently, Dian Cécht had been planning this day for a very, very long time. He knew exactly where the well was, down to the longitude and latitude. He knew the Morrigan's schedule down to the minute. He'd watched her for years, sent all manner of spies to gather intel, and burned through large sums of money, just to keep an eye on her.
If I didn't know why he was doing it, I'd think he was pretty creepy. Tam studied the maps Dian had drawn, and memorized the surrounding landmarks at least fifty miles away. Apparently, shillelaghs, according to Bogs, were capable of transporting a Leprechaun instantly to a known location. But that was the key—known. Tam had never been in that part of the world.
That part being Connacht, Ireland.
The plan was to transport himself to the well, and if he was successful, come back to get Áine and Dian. They would slip Áine into the water, allow her to heal, which Dian said was an instant process, and then Dian would destroy the well.
It all sounded easy enough, but something about the idea bothered Tam. It nagged at him as he sat in Dian's round library amidst ceiling-high shelves of books. Old books, new books, books in languages Tam was pretty sure he'd never even heard of. He periodically got up and walked around to stretch his legs as the night wore on and the time to try Dian's plan arrived.
"Hasn't this guy heard of eBooks?" he muttered to himself as he moved about the room. He ran his left hand along the books as he made his sixth, or tenth, or hundredth pass around the room.
Tam…
He stopped because he thought someone had come in the room. He turned to answer, but no one was there.
Tam, please…
Wait… Tam turned around again and looked at the shelves of books. I've heard that voice before. Recently. Heard it when he… When I…
Tam…don't do it…
Now he was creeped out. The voice sounded like Áine's. He'd asked Dian several times if he could see her, but the Faery mogul put him off, telling him she was in critical condition.
Listen, Tam…
"Áine?" he said aloud, and his voice echoed in the room. There was no answer. No voice in his head. He moved to the pages of maps on the table and picked up a pen. "I gotta be dreaming. This is just nuts." And it was nuts. The whole idea. Not just popping from place to place, but doing it to destroy something as rare as a healing well seemed…wrong.
He started using the pen as a bodhrán's tapper, softly striking it against the table, just as he would if he were playing his drum. But the angle was off. It wasn't the same. His routine since he was eight had been to pull his bodhrán out and play when he found himself in a tough situation, having difficulty with a decision, or if he couldn't think through a math problem.
He needed the rhythm to think. Bogs said he'd put the drum where it was safe, but Tam hadn't seen Bogs since Dian stuck him in the library to memorize the location. He dropped the pen on the table and held out his left hand as he summoned the shillelagh. If it was possible to go to a place and back, was it possible to bring something to where he was? What was it going to hurt to try?
Uh huh, and what if I end up bringing something to me that wants to kill me?
He dismissed that thought and closed his eyes. Using his imagination, he formed an image of his bodhrán in his mind. He saw the curve of the wood, the studs around the edges, and the felt the texture of the skin. He thought of playing it, sitting in his room at home and striking out a beat.
Something thudded on the ground at his feet. He broke the image and opened his eyes to see his bodhrán's case. Tam set the shillelagh on the table and knelt down to open it up. His drum was there, as were his tappers in their velvet sleeve. He pulled the drum out, selected a tapper, and sat back down on the stool with the bodhrán on his right knee, his tapper poised at the relaxed, ready position in his left hand.
Tam began to play.
He closed his eyes and lost himself in the music, in the beat of the drum, the whisper of the tapper's brush against the skin, the glide of his hand as he moved the edge of his right palm along the inside of the drum to change pitch. He saw a well in his mind, but not the stereotypical kind with rounded brick, or stone sides, and a wheel and pulley for a bucket.
This image showed only a hole in the ground, in a diameter much larger than he'd imagined. Grass grew long around its borders, so long it fell into the water itself and bloomed lilies of purple, pink, and white. It didn't have a muddy bank or a sandy beach, just the roots of a nearby tree…no, three trees.
The ash.
The oak.
And the thorn. A blackthorn tree.
They grew in the shape of a triangle, a root system in each corner. And in the middle rested the blessed well. He reached out in his mind to touch the roots, to feel their bark, and listen to the song of the Earth inside of them and felt hundreds of whispers against his mind. Name after name of Leprechaun, Seelie, and Unseelie alike. With each whisper, he saw the root of a tree as it formed the shape of a staff—
Shillelaghs. He was hearing the teaming voices, the joined song of hundreds of shillelaghs, singing out to him.
That's it!
Áine's voice shattered the vision. He dropped the tapper, and would have dropped the bodhrán if he hadn't moved to the table. He breathed hard as he reset his awareness back to the library, back to Dian Cécht's home. With the drum in his lap, sandwiched between his chest and the table, he reached out for the shillelagh and moved his hand along its surface.
He knew in that instant his shillelagh was made of blackthorn wood. And the trio of trees, the sacred trees surrounding the well, was the rebirth of the stolen shillelaghs.
The trees… "Dian's well keeps the shillelaghs alive," he said aloud as he finished his thought. "Áine…I think I figured it out. She's keeping the shillelaghs alive. But…why?"
Take me there.
"Where are you?"
Above you.
Tam looked up. He hadn't noticed the ceiling. It was domed, much like the one over the living room. Two circular rooms. How odd was that? But Dian was a billionaire a billion times over. He could have anything he wanted. He could buy…anything he wanted.
He stared at the ceiling as he clutched his bodhrán. Was it possible there was a room there? Above the library? Tam put his drum back in its case along with the tapper. Grabbing the shillelagh, he ran to the door, thinking he could do a bit of exploring.
It was locked.
He jerked it back and forth, but the door remained locked. Dian had locked him in the library? Why? They were supposed to go to the well. Heal Áine. Unless…that wasn't the real plan.
"You're above me. In a room?"
I don't know. I can't see.
He looked at the shillelagh. Dian said he could only go where he'd been before. So what happened if he tried going where he hadn't? What would be the outcome? Bogs hadn't said what it would be, only giving his usual shrug. Was his uncle aware he had been locked in the library?
"I'm going to try."
Think of my bow. Think only of my bow.
Tam closed his eyes and thought about the bow. He'd seen it in her hand, on her back. He imagined her firing it, touching it, and he heard it singing to her…
No, it sang to him!
"Taistealaí!" he said, releasing the shillelagh, and using the word for traveler.
Tam felt the floor drop out from beneath him
seconds before he landed on something hard again. He dropped and rolled, then came up with the shillelagh in front of him. Not that it mattered. He didn't think he was in Dian's fortress anymore. Not unless he'd installed a hospital wing.
The bright lights made him squint as he came up on his feet. He stood in a hospital room, intensive care by the looks of the machines surrounding someone in a bed. Dark red hair on white sheets. Tam moved closer and looked down at the encumbered person.
"Áine," he said softly.
"How did you get in here?"
The voice startled him as the shillelagh vanished. He turned and faced a nurse in scrubs with a very prickly expression. "Sorry…I didn't…I was looking for Áine McCuill's room."
"Well, you found it, but she's not receiving visitors. Her uncle gave strict instructions she wasn't to see anyone."
"Oh?" Tam didn't know if she had an uncle. He hated the fact he barely knew her, and yet she was in this mess because of him. "Was her uncle tall, with long blond hair and very thin?"
"Yes."
Dian.
Tam kept his hands in front of him just so she could see them. "I'm sorry. I just…I'm her boyfriend. I've been out of town, and I just heard she was here. Can you tell me what happened? I promise I'll leave with no problems. I'm just…concerned." He smiled at her and leaned forward, thinking only thoughts of cooperation and kindness.
The nurse sighed and seemed to think it over. "We don't really know how it happened, but she was injured from a pipe. Her uncle said she fell onto it, but with her other injuries—"
"Other injuries?"
"Yes. She's got multiple contusions, which could be from a fall, but there's a lot that seem to have been made before the injury from the pipe."
"What?"
"I shouldn't get into it, and you need to leave. Just know her uncle's paying for the best care and security for her. So whoever is trying to kill her can't get in here."
I got in here. Tam licked his lips. "One more thing…has her uncle been in to see her?"
"Yes. He just left. Should I stop him?"
Once Upon A Curse: 17 Dark Faerie Tales Page 26