Dreamweaver

by Judie Chirichello

  “I—but I..."

  “Try."

  Releasing a weary sigh, Seerah hung her head low. Then she did something she seldom allowed herself to do, because it was too painful; she thought about her parents.

  * * *

  Chapter Four

  Seerah cast her mind back, back before the night of the Fin-gael raid, back to a quiet evening when her mother had sat in front of the fire, drying her long, auburn hair. Galynne had let five-year-old Seerah brush her hair, and Seerah could still remember its softness, the way it smelled of heather and lilac.

  “Mama, tell me again how you and da met."

  Galynne's voice, lovely and low, held a smile. “Seerah, aren't you tired of that story yet? I think you could tell it to me."

  “Please, Mama,” Seerah wheedled, knowing her mother didn't really mind.

  And Galynne had told the story of how Kendahl, a mighty Highland knight said to be a direct descendant of Fionn MacCumhail, had been traveling on a scouting mission with the Fianna, in the desolate country near Dingle, Ireland, when one of his men became deathly ill. Though Kendahl believed not in the Druid ways, when he and his men came upon the Druid camp, he was left with no other choice but to ask their assistance. The young warrior in his charge was near to death.

  Galynne, although young, was already the most skilled healer in the band of Druid settlers and priests. When she was brought forth to heal the warrior, she and Kendahl fell in love at first sight. But Kendahl's request to wed Galynne was not welcomed by the Druid priests and clan elders. Because Galynne's Shee blood could be traced to the famous sorcerer Merlin, many believed her noble lineage and exceptional powers would one day require her to reign as supreme sorceress of the Shee.

  It was obvious to all that Kendahl loved Galynne with a pure heart. He was also a mighty warrior whose great courage and sense of honor were apparent. But he had openly rejected Galynne's beliefs, deeming them nonsense. Because the council elders felt that such a match would displease their god, Dagdha, it was decided that, for the sake of destiny, Kendahl would be banished from their kingdom and Galynne's heart forever.

  In her misery and despair Galynne fled to the deepest, darkest part of the forest. When a fire broke out—the direct result of an incantation gone awry—her clan rushed to her rescue. By the time they located her, however, the circle of flames surrounding Galynne was too intense for them to breach. Just as the clan was about to lose all hope, Kendahl appeared in the clearing riding his war-horse. He drove his steed directly into the fire, snatching Galynne from certain death, and both emerged unharmed.

  Witnessing the rescue, the council deemed that the love Kendahl and Galynne held for one another was pure. The match was declared as destined by the fates, and a ceremonial banquet was held in honor of Kendahl's valiant deed. During the celebration ritual that lasted five days and nights, the two were married, and Kendahl was dubbed Spirit of Fire, protector of the Shee.

  Though her eyes remained closed, Seerah shook her bowed head in disbelief. She had loved that story as a child, and had heard it told countless times since. It had become a legend, considered the most romantic story of love and fate ever ... until the tragic Norse attack which had left Seerah orphaned at the age of five. But she was no longer a child who believed in fairy tales.

  Fate? Och. ‘Tis apparently more folklore than fact. Just another tragic, Irish tale. Why, I can na’ even summon the natural earth-forces of wind, rain or fire. ‘Tis nothing but myths!

  Unfortunately Seerah's few childhood memories were colored by many tales, some of which seemed to grow and change with each accounting.

  According to the most popular of legends Seerah's father, Kendahl MacFarlane, a mighty Highland knight was said to be a direct descendant of Fionn MacCumhail. Kendahl's honor and courage were widely acclaimed, and he was revered by Seerah's people for his deeds as protector of the fairy people know as Sidhe or Shee.

  Seerah's mother, Galynne O'Leary, was once a member of the same Celtic band of Druid settlers and priests as Izebeth and Seerah. They lived mainly in the forests of Ireland, until the Norse raid, which scattered their people throughout Wales, Ireland and parts of Scotland. To this day Galynne's mystical healing powers were said to be as divine and extraordinary as her beauty.

  According to legend, Kendahl had been traveling on a scouting mission with the Fianna, in the desolate country near Dingle, Ireland, when one of his men became deathly ill. Though Kendahl believed not in the Druid ways, when he and his men came upon the Druid camp, he was left with no other choice. The young warrior in his charge was near to death.

  When Galynne was brought forth to heal the warrior, she and Kendahl fell in love at first sight. Unfortunately, while many legends of old were based on the forbidden love between mortal men and divine beings, Kendahl's request to wed Galynne became the cause of much discourse among the Druid priests and clan elders. Because Galynne's Shee blood could be traced to the famous sorcerer Merlin, many believed her noble lineage and exceptional powers would one day require her to reign as supreme sorceress of the Shee.

  It was obvious to all that Kendahl loved Galynne with a pure heart. He was also a mighty warrior whose great courage and sense of honor were apparent. But he had openly rejected Galynne's beliefs, deeming them nonsense. Because the council elders felt that such a match would displease their god, Dagdha, it was decided that, for the sake of destiny, Kendahl would be banished from their kingdom and Galynne's heart forever.

  In her misery and despair Galynne fled to the deepest, darkest part of the forest. When a fire broke out—the direct result of an incantation gone awry—her clan rushed to her rescue. By the time they located her, however, the circle of flames surrounding Galynne was too intense for them to breach. Just as the clan was about to lose all hope, Kendahl appeared in the clearing riding his war-horse. He drove his steed directly into the fire, snatching Galynne from certain death, and both emerged unharmed. Still too history lesson?

  Witnessing the rescue, the council deemed that the love Kendahl and Galynne held for one another was pure. The match was declared as destined by the fates, and a ceremonial banquet was held in honor of Kendahl's valiant deed. During the celebration ritual that lasted five days and nights, the two were married, and Kendahl was dubbed Spirit of Fire, protector of the Shee. The legend was considered the most romantic story of love and fate ever ... until the tragic Norse attack which had left Seerah orphaned at the age of five.

  Though her eyes remained closed, Seerah wagged her bowed head in disbelief. Fate? Och. ‘Tis apparently more folklore than fact. Just another tragic, Irish tale. Why, I can na’ even summon the natural earth-forces of wind, rain or fire. ‘Tis nothing but myths!

  “Tis na’ myths!” Izebeth fumed.

  Seerah blinked her eyes open and gaped up at Izebeth.

  Izebeth wagged her index finger at Seerah. “You should be ashamed for thinking such things. Your Shee blood is—"

  “Shee blood?” Seerah interrupted. “Have mercy! Me Shee blood is but a fairy curse. Apparently, na’ even me thoughts are me own. And, gift, you say? Och! I'd rather have parents."

  Izebeth sighed. “I told you, Seerah, evil took your parents. And your Shee blood is a great gift."

  “Oh? Tell me, then, what good is such a gift if we can na’ defeat evil?"

  “But you can,” Izebeth said. “Do you na’ see? ‘Tis all been a matter of timing. And now the time is right. The true prophecy can finally be completed. If only you will—"

  “What?” Seerah challenged. “Have blind faith, and trust your fanciful beliefs?"

  “Me beliefs are na’ fanciful. The Druid teachings are as old as time itself. And aye, you must have faith. Why, you have been chosen, Seerah."

  “Chosen? Me?” Seerah scoffed. “Chosen for what?"

  “To fulfill the prophecy, of course. You see, on a night such as this, when the full harvest moon is high in the sky and all is aligned in the universe, the atmosphere becomes charged with mystic
al energy. You were born on such a night. Of course, I knew na’ that you had been chosen until recently, but that was also part of the plan."

  “None of this makes any sense, Gran.” Seerah argued. “You claim to see the future, but you knew na’ of this plan, until now. You also believed me parents to be dead. Yet, now, you suddenly tell me they live. And, you expect me to believe ‘tis all part of some grand scheme. Tell me this, if me own mother was—is—such a powerful sorceress, why did she na’ simply use her powers to thwart the evil forces. Why—"

  “'Twas na’ her destiny,” Izebeth said. “'Twas your future and the future of our people she's been protecting. Dreamweavers are na’ merely fortunetellers, Seerah. We seek to achieve the truth of destiny. Our duty is to preserve the Light our Shee ancestors died protecting. ‘Tis against our nature to interfere unless we are called upon by the gods to do so. Dagdha has finally allowed me such power. Why, the images I conjured this night were no simple visions of foresight. The power of Dream-magic has allowed me to see your fate, child."

  The hairs at Seerah's nape prickled and a shiver ran down her spine. “Dream-magic?” She swallowed hard, sensing that something profound was about to happen that would forever change her life. “You've ... seen me fate? What does this mean?"

  “Me dream, lass. You must live me dream."

  “L-live your dream! I ... What exactly is it that you expect me to do?"

  “You must locate Kendahl and rescue Galynne."

  “What!” Seerah's mouth fell open. “H-how? I ... I know na’ where or—"

  “But, I do.” Izebeth nodded. “Galynne is being held captive in a castle, in the Highlands of Scotland, by a man learned in the art of black magic. He is vengeful man who seeks to destroy all that is good, and rule with all that is evil.” Izebeth shivered. “He is represented in me visions as a serpent, but I know him well from the past. ‘Twas he who reeked havoc on our people and abducted Galynne so many years ago, I'm certain."

  Seerah wanted desperately to believe that her parents were alive, but Izebeth's ramblings were growing more fanciful by the second. “If what you say is true, who is this man? What has he to gain by torturing us?"

  “Och! He is no human man, but the devil's spawn!” Izebeth spat on the ground. “Apparently, the Prince of Darkness has had his hand in this since the beginning. I should have recognized his disciple. I would have enjoyed destroying him years ago when he was within me grasp. Alas, ‘twas na’ what the fates held in store for any of us.” Izebeth sighed. “'Tis all up to you now, Seerah."

  “Me! You expect me to defeat the Prince of Darkness?"

  Izebeth nodded. “Apparently, ‘tis been Dagdha's plan all along. The evil one is well guarded by the spirit fires of the underworld. As of yet, he knows na’ that I observe him. But we must be very cautious, for his powers have grown. He will learn of Dagdha's plans eventually. ‘Tis inevitable. But by then, you will be well on your way."

  “On m-me way?” Seerah stammered. “To what?"

  “To fulfill the prophecy, of course,” Izebeth said, clearly exasperated.

  “But ... h-how? Where—"

  “Kendahl is near Galynne,” Izebeth said. “And he searches for her, but his efforts are in vain. He desperately needs your help, Seerah. Though I do na’ have all the answers you seek this night, I am certain of one thing—you are the only one who can save Galynne."

  “I—you...” Seerah faltered, her shoulders slumping with defeat as she stared at Izebeth.

  “Lend me your hand, child.” When Izebeth extended her arm out, Seerah obediently placed her left hand in the old woman's open palm. “Divine providence has intervened. ‘Tis the will of the fates.” Izebeth's gnarled fingers closed around Seerah's hand.

  Seerah bowed her head low, and closed her eyes. Despite her many misgivings, now, like often times in the past, Seerah felt obligated to honor her grandmother's wishes. Seerah had also learned, long ago, that arguing with the persistent old woman was useless. Slowly raising her head, Seerah gently squeezed Izebeth's hand. “I'll begin me search at first light."

  “Nay!” Izebeth clasped Seerah's hand. “You are na’ ready. Your gifts be lacking."

  “Me gifts?” Seerah tried to pull her hand free, but Izebeth held fast. “I trust na’ in the likes, but I have a sharp, cunning mind and a strong body."

  “Aye. That you do, indeed. But full control of your spell-craft is what you'll be needing to rescue Galynne!” The conviction in Izebeth's voice seemed to match the strength of her relentless grip.

  “B-but,” Seerah squirmed.

  “No more excuses.” Izebeth shook Seerah's arm with a jarring force, then released her grip. “You must have faith to realize the power deep in your soul. ‘Tis what you've been lacking these many years. In order to save Galynne, you need to become an accomplished sorceress. To do this, you must trust in the power of love, believe in yourself and in your gifts. Have you even been practicing your spells and incantations?"

  “Nay.” Seerah grimaced. “But, I'll begin at once, if you wish."

  “Aye.” Izebeth placed her hands in her lap. “You will do so, but na’ here. ‘Tis no longer safe. Galynne has been using her powers of faet fiada to protect you. While these innate cloaking skills of hers have always been superior, her powers are failing. ‘Tis is why I can feel her so strongly now. ‘Tis a warning. She's in grave danger, as are you."

  “Danger? M-me?” Seerah blinked her eyes wide.

  “Aye. And we be running out of time. When the evil one learns of your existence, he will search heaven and earth, destroying everything in his wake until he has you in his grasp."

  “But, why? What threat could I pos—"

  “Your powers, Seerah!” Izebeth sighed, clearly annoyed.

  “Me powers? Why, if you did na’ look so serious I'd laugh. ‘Tis a ridiculous notion."

  “Tis na’ ridiculous. And, serious I am, indeed. Na’ only do you possess the gifts of second sight and Dream-weaving, but deep in your soul you have the ability to levitate, shape-shift, and move objects with your mind. You can read other's thoughts as well. This be a rare combination, brought about by the true power of Light you carry within you, now. I believe Galynne passed the power of the Light to you when she was captured. She knew.” Izebeth nodded as if confirming her own words.

  Seerah knew she was fighting a losing battle. When Izebeth set her mind on something there was little chance of reasoning with her. Seerah also knew the truth; all her life she'd been a failure as a Druid witch. “I can see how strongly you believe this, Gran,” Seerah began. “However, you can na’ ignore the facts. I've never been able to cause even simple mischief. I've tried many times, but me attempts have always been fruitless."

  “Blocking your powers was part of Galynne's protection, I'm certain,” Izebeth said. “If you were to become an accomplished sorceress before the time was right, ‘twould have been simple for the evil one to locate you. But now ... Why, there be no telling what you can do. If only you would believe. The day of reckoning nears and you are the only one who can defeat them, Seerah. You must try, lass,” Izebeth charged.

  Seerah placed her hand on Izebeth's forearm, again. “Your confidence warms me heart, truly. But, I think, mayhap..."

  Izebeth shrugged Seerah's hand away. “Bah! You think too much. This has always been your problem. A bright, independent lass you are, indeed. And you have grown into a capable young woman. Why, you can do anything you set out to, but reason and doubt clutter your headstrong mind."

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Izebeth scowled. “You believe in naught, unless you can see it, or hold it in your hands. ‘Tis why you reject the Druid ways, and the affections of the laddies. Why, sometimes I fear the taint of stubborn Scot blood in your veins is to blame. Your father was the same. Aye, he was quite a skeptic.” Izebeth frowned. “Then again...” she whispered, “As his love for Galynne grew ... he came to see—to believe. Just as you will!” Her words seemed much more forceful and determined as
she continued. “There be no more time for skepticism, Seerah MacFarlane. You need to feel with every fiber of your being, and to believe what at times may seem most unreasonable. Above all else, you must learn to listen to your heart."

  “But if me success in fulfilling this ... this prophecy, depends solely upon me powers..."

  Izebeth pat Seerah's hand. “Fear na'. Though your powers lie dormant now, they will soon awaken and strengthen, I'm quite certain of this. You must practice, but na’ here. As I said, ‘tis no longer safe."

  “Aye.” Seerah sighed with resign. “Where will we go, then?"

  “Na’ we, lass.” Izebeth slowly shook her head from side to side.

  “Alone? But ... I don't understand. Why—"

  Izebeth raised a placating hand. “Do na’ fret, so. In his infinite wisdom, Dagdha has appointed you a guardian—a protector of sorts. He—"

  “He? Och, I should have known!” Seerah clapped one hand against her forehead.

  “Have mercy! ‘Tis no love match, Seerah! In fact, The Lord of Thunder will likely prove to be most difficult."

  “The Lord of Thunder?"

  “Aye.” Izebeth nodded. “He proved himself worthy in the past, so the gods have appointed him as protector of the Light. He believes na’ in our ways, but he is very powerful. He is also crucial to the prophecy. You must convince him to take you on your journey."

  Seerah was past being surprised. She knew that the only thing for her to do was to humor Izebeth and hope for the best. “Oh, well ... if I must, I must. Do you have any suggestions as to how I might convince him?"