She followed my gaze. “Let’s not wake him. Well, Lilly, you see, we among the angels have a vested interest in those ashes. Kat had fae blood, not enough to make her immortal, but enough to make her soul valuable. If those ashes do not rest at the bottom of the sea, Morgana might be able to gather them. She is still searching for power.”
The baby suddenly kicked me, a gentle reminder of why I made this trip. “But what we don’t understand, Lilly, is why you brought the other ashes.”
I rub my belly with one hand to sooth the baby and ran the other through my hair. “Why am I lucky enough to see you guys everywhere I go? The other ashes … well … are just something I need to do. I understand now why Kat did what she did and I’m grateful. That’s why I agreed to do this. It only seemed fitting to send her off for eternity with the only man she ever truly loved.”
Deirdre rested her cold hand on mine. Once again I was struck with the realization that I could feel her. What boggled our minds when Daemon and I struggled with Aaron’s ghost was that they were substance, mixed with an angelic glow. “Then you are certainly living up to all I was told. Your forgiveness knows no limits. Your compassion is unequal in other mortal beings.”
I scoff. “Well, I don’t know about that, but I do know we were once friends. And I can certainly do this final act for her. Will the Liffey be acceptable?”
Deirdre stood and walked toward the door. “I think the Liffey will be perfect. It flows to the sea and what better way to honor Kat’s Irish roots and fae blood?” Then, she turned as her light grew faint. “Be well, dear Lilly. Bless the child in your womb, and harm none.” With that, she walked into the shadows from which she came.
The baby nudged me with a swift kick to the ribs. “I get it you want to go back to bed.” Leave it to me to be followed by ghosts. I didn’t know the whole story of Kat and the fae, but I was promised answers when I needed them. The whole encounter left me feeling strangely melancholy and reflective. Before I crossed the room to go back to bed, I glanced out the window and made a note of the light snow that was falling. “I thought it didn’t snow in Dublin.”
We woke the next morning and the street outside the hotel was covered by slightly more snow than a dusting. Icy rain fell softly onto the ground, giving everything the appearance of being covered by diamonds. The street was eerily quiet compared to the jovial pedestrians I saw last night. As I lay in the bed with Daemon’s warm arms wrapped around me, I recounted the conversation I had with my midnight visitor last night. “She was calm and beautiful. At least three out of our four ghosts have been helpful,” I said with a shrug. He chuckled into my neck, leisurely stroking my back. “But she didn’t shed much light on things. Actually, she was kind of cryptic if you ask me. We got more info out of the craggy cab driver.” Then I thought of the ashes, knowing what we had to do. “Let’s do it today. Let’s go on over to the Halfpenny Bridge and release their ashes into the Liffey. Then we can spend the rest of the day in a quiet pub and go to the church tomorrow and renew our vows.” I spoke fast, wanting to get my plan out of my head before Daemon asked me the same question Deirdre had. Why had I brought Aaron’s ashes too?
“Wow. You said that with such conviction, but there’s one problem with your plan, fair lady,” Daemon replied.
I rolled my eyes since he can’t see my face. “And what is that?”
“When I went down to get our breakfast earlier, the front desk clerk was telling another guest that almost everything was closed for the day. Her exact words were ‘good luck finding a cab.’” He kissed the nape of my neck. “So, it looks like I get another day relaxing in bed with my Bonnie Lass.”
I shook my head. “So, let’s walk instead. We’re hardy New Englanders. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little snow. The bridge is only about three blocks from here.”
I felt his body stiffen before he turned me within his arms. “Lilly, you’re three weeks away from delivering and you’re in a foreign country. You think I’m going to let you walk in an ice storm? Besides, what’s the hurry?”
A single tear rolled silently down my cheek. “I need to release them, Daemon. I need to let them both go before this baby gets here, before we go see the relics of St. Valentine. I have to make my peace with my friend.”
He stares at me long and hard. “But why Aaron’s ashes?”
I thought for what seemed like an eternity, then replied, “He was the only man she ever truly loved. I saw it in her eyes when he died, only I didn’t realize it until later … when she hated me for betraying him. But how can you betray someone who’s dead? Really, she was the one who betrayed him and herself when she walked away from what they could have had. So, I think the only way to give him his final peace and hers to escape the fae is to set them free … together. Let me do this, Daemon. In a sense, he set me free to find you when he died. I want to do the same for them.”
Daemon looked at me in silence, but his eyes were as wet as mine. We both jumped, as the baby kicked so hard that my stomach lurched. The outline of his little foot appeared on the skin of my belly. “Well, I guess baby agrees with you, but Lilly, if I see you slip or getting cold we’re turning right back around and coming back to this hotel.” I grinned from ear to ear and jumped out of bed. “Where are you going, my sweet?”
I laughed at him as I pulled on my robe. “To shower and dress. Let’s get this show on the road.”
Forty minutes later, we were walking in the deserted Temple Bar area. Its cobblestone streets were a mixture of old and new architecture packed closely together. A few other couples are out, as well, braving the cold wind. The covering of snow mixed with the freezing drizzle gave the area a surreal feel. The buildings became brownstone ice castles. I took note of the patrons in the pubs laughing over their pints and wished I was in one, holding a steaming cup of Earl Gray. It didn’t take long until I saw it, spanning the gray Liffey connecting the south and north sides of Dublin. The Halfpenny Bridge was a beautiful structure of cold steel gently arched over the water beneath. Graceful Victorian light fixtures were evenly spaced on either side of the bridge, topped with glowing orbs of white. It certainly was a pedestrian bridge, with a walkway barely five feet across on either side. It didn’t look like it could accommodate a large tour group. Daemon wrapped his arm around my waist as we start up the incline.
“It doesn’t seem overly slippery, but I’m not taking any chances. Go slowly, Lilly.”
I smiled at him. It was nice to have someone watch over me. I missed this closeness with the endless hours he was spending in his residency. “Do you know how much this trip was worth it?” I stopped about seven feet into our climb.
“Yes, you told me at least a hundred times,” Daemon replied, staring into my eyes as he kissed my forehead.
“And not just for that,” I said, gesturing at the tote holding the ashes, “but for this … for us. Having you all to myself, spending the day in your arms and the night wrapped up in sheets, and for being in this classic city with the man who saved me from myself.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, encircling me within both of his arms as he threaded his gloved hand into my hair, knocking my hat off into the snow. I took in every breath of his kiss, not caring about the cold gray sky that surrounded us, then he took a step back. “Well, then, let’s finish this up and get our asses back to that hotel.”
As we continued to the middle of the bridge, I saw another person walking toward us from the north side. His gate was slower than ours and he walked close to the railing, holding on. As we drew closer, I recognized him. “Daemon, I think that’s the cab driver.”
He squinted into the mist that seemed to be slowing down. “I think your right. That’s weird.”
“Well, hopefully we can get this done and be respectful without having to engage in idle chit chat.” I take the tote from his hands and set it down next to the railing, as Daemon’s hand rested on my shoulder. “I would give you your privacy and wait over there, but I really don’t like how slippery
this bridge is.”
“Your such a worry wart. It’s okay; I need you here.” My mind wondered back to that autumn night in the cemetery and how glad I was that he followed me. His presence always gave me comfort. I reached into the tote and took out Kat’s urn. The cold waters of the Liffey swirled beneath us, dark and deep, promising an eternity at the bottom of its reaches. Then, I twisted off the lid, trying not to glance at the contents, racking my brain for one of my mother’s Gaelic blessings and, surprisingly, remember one. “Ar dheas Dego raibh a anam. May her soul be on God’s right hand.” I tipped the urn and watched as the ashes streamed down into the Liffey and were swallowed up immediately by the churning water. I was surprised that the stiff wind didn’t catch any of the ashes and blow them wayward. “And please don’t be one of the ghosts who comes back to see us,” I added. Daemon gave me a wink. “What?” I asked, feigning innocence. “Don’t you think we’ve had enough of them?” I reached back into the tote and lifted out Aaron’s ashes. “Here I am, letting you go once again. Hopefully, this time you’ll rest in peace and finish your journey.” Tears were streaming down my face, mixed with the sleet that had returned. I methodically took the cover off the urn and tipped the contents over the side of the bridge to follow Kat’s down into the abyss. “May you see her in heaven.” With that, the last of his ashes drift down. Then, Daemon took the urn from my hand and returned it to the tote, as we watched the water swirl below.
Suddenly, a rough voice brought us out of our reverie. “Are you not the young couple from my cab? What brings you to stand on the Halfpenny Bridge on such a God forsaken day?” the old man asked.
I was sure that he witnessed what had just transpired, but I could detect the tone of someone fishing for more information. Thank God Daemon took the lead. “Just fulfilling someone’s last wishes,” Daemon said, stepping closer to me to wrap me in his arms.
The old man cleared his throat roughly. “Tristan Callaghan’s the name. Don’t think I introduced myself the other day.” Then he glanced at the bag containing the urns. “Anyone I know?” He really was too curious.
“No, just some friends,” Daemon replied cautiously.
The old man was dressed like he just came from a formal affair, except for his hat, which was well worn and thread bare. It was the kind of hat that you see cabbies wear in old movies. I found myself trying to guess his age, but years of hard living and drinking seemed to have marred his face. Acne scars covered his face and his rosy cheeks were that of an alcoholic. His slight frame looked strong, though, as he stood tall and stiff. He took a flask from his pocket, twisted off the cap and took a long sip. Afterward, he silently held the bottle up to Daemon, who shook his head no. “Really? You two made the trip from America to deposit friends in the Liffey? Everyone should be as lucky to have such friends. Is maith an scathan suil charad, a friend’s eye is a good mirror. I see you two are very loyal.” He punctuates this with another sip from his flask. I am sure my face betrayed what I was feeling. I’m so easy to read.
“Actually, one was my first husband, and the other was my best friend who I found out was in love with him. It goes beyond loyalty.”
Daemon pressed his face into my hair and whispered, “Why are you telling him this Lilly?”
But I wave him off, feeling conviction in me from some unknown force. The words rush out of me before I could stop myself. Something inside told me this old man was a kindred spirit. “Do you know anything about fairies?” Daemon grunted and dropped his head.
The old man nodded, taking a step closer. “I dropped the ashes of my own dear wife, God rest her soul, from this very same bridge nearly twenty years ago. She was a believer; a true Celtic lady of old. She kept in close communion with the fae. Some of those little devils were beasts, to say the least. Lost many a cat to them.” Then, he took a well worn locket from his pocket and opened it and studied it closely before he handed it to me. “That’s my lass.” I looked into the locket and a beautiful young woman was staring back at me. I tried to remember where I saw her face before, but I shrugged it off, closed the locket and caught the inscription on the back, Not all who wander are lost, before handing the it back to him. “She was beautiful.”
He laughed as he tucked the watch safely back into his pocket. “Beautiful, but a spitfire. I lost count of how many times the priest tried to cure her of consorting with magic. Everyone in the neighborhood came to her when they needed to be rid of some aliment or needed some potion. She learned all she could from the fae.” He studied me for a long moment, as the rain started to fall heavily and the wind blew with more force. I could feel something in my bones.
Daemon leaned in and whispered into my ear, “We really should be going.” But I shot him a look that asked for one more second.
The old man looked at me intently. “Tell me, lass, you believe in the fae folk? Have you seen them?”
I looked into the old man’s earnest eyes, wondering how much I should admit. But then I took a deep breath and replied, “I was told last night that my friend might have had some fae in her, if that’s possible, but my experience is more with ghosts.”
He looked out over the river. “I was just wondering if they were over in the states. You know, it was St. Valentine’s Day twenty years tomorrow that I set my Deirdre free here. I just hope someone sends me to meet her someday. if I had friends like you.”
Suddenly, my stomach felt as if it had been poked with a hot iron. “Did you say Deirdre?” I took a step away from Daemon closer to the old man.
“Yes, that was my good wife’s name. A stronger woman you will never meet.”
I cautiously placed my gloved hand on his arm, ignoring the concern on my own husband’s face. “I have met her. Last night she told me I needed to do this soon to keep my friend’s remains safe from the fae. Her ghost came to me.” No wonder the picture in the watch looked so familiar to me.
His face softened as a cold tear slid slowly down his cheek mingling with the wind driven rain. “You can see her, too? You can see ghosts? Then, I’m not crazy?”
I tightened my grip on his arm. “No, Tristan, you’re not. The coincidence is unfathomable, but she must have had other reasons for me to come to the bridge today. I can’t explain it all, but my first husband was a ghost also. He almost lost his soul to the evil fae goddess Morgana.” My voice trailed off. Choked by tears, I could not go on.
Daemon took my hand. “We really should go, my sweet. It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Callaghan.”
But as we turned to go, Tristan Callaghan reached out his hand and grabbed my arm. “Wait, I’d like you to have this.” He reached into his pocket and placed a locket into my gloved hand.
I tried to give it back to him. “I can’t.”
He shook his head. “You must … please … Deirdre would want you to have it, for the wee one. It was blessed by the pontiff. She hid her own magic in it. It must be why she wanted you to come.” I took the locket, nodding my thanks and turned to go. Then, I heard his rough voice call out one final blessing to us as we made our way back across the Liffey, “Nar laga Diathu, may God never weaken you.”
I sleep soundly that night, as dreams flood my mind … beautiful dreams filled with color and light, and castles nestled in green fields filled with wild flowers. Among the fields walked a beautiful child, her dress was flowing gossamer and lace, her hands were filled with wild daisies. The child reached out to me and I swept her into my arms. Laughing, we fell onto the green grass and I noticed a locket hanging around her neck. It was Deirdre’s locket on a thin thread of gold. But behind the castle walls lurked a pair of intent eyes, watching our every move. Although I knew we were protected by the power around us, I was still uneasy.
The next morning, I woke and my hand reached across the bed for Daemon, only to find cool empty sheets. I sat up drenched in a cold sweat. Even though the room was warm, I shivered. Then, my stomach lurched and a slight pain grabbed my back along with a twinge of a cramp, but the moment it came, it
was gone. Hearing the water running in the shower, I knew where Daemon was. My mind wondered to the place I really don’t want it to go. That wasn’t a labor pain, was it? Please, not today of all days, I thought to myself. After all, we were going to the church to renew our vows, then Friday we would be back on a plane to the states. I sat quietly, watching the clock. By the time Daemon came out of the bathroom, I had no other pain, so I decided that it was better not to tell him.
“Well, hello, sleepy head. If we want to make it to that mass, then you’d better get a move on it,” he said, as he walked over to the bed and placed a soft kiss on my cheek, but he knew something was wrong. “Are you okay?”
I stifled a cough and glanced up at him. “Never better, why?”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “You feel clammy and you’re a little pale. Maybe we should stay here today and check on an early flight?”
I swatted his arm away and swung my legs off the bed. “Nonsense. It’s just a little hot in here. Look the sun finally came out.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “Yes, barely.”
“But it’s the first time we’ve seen the sun since we’ve been in Ireland and I don’t want to waste it,” I replied.
“You sure your okay?” he asked, ignoring my enthusiasm.
I skipped a little toward the bathroom and grinned, ignoring the pain in my lower back. “Yep, and I hope you’re ready by the time I’m out of the shower.”
When we pulled up in front of the Whitefriar Street Church, I’m a little taken aback by how it looks. It could easily be mistaken for a school or business block, and the gray concrete did nothing to help it stand out from the other buildings around it. The only thing that denoted it as a house of worship was the golden statues and stained glass that grace the entrance. One of the stone columns by the door read, Refuge of sinners, pray for us. It certainly didn’t prepare visitors for the beautiful opulence that greeted them when they walk in. We were greeted in the great vestibule by a young Carmelite Nun dressed in traditional robes. She handed us a program and directed us to the chapel of St. Valentine, where the blessings and mass were taking place, but Daemon took his time looking at a display of wedding pictures and a collage of portraits. “
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