Prince of Hazel and Oak s-2

by John Lenahan

  The door flew open and Fallon came storming in. ‘What the hell is going on here?’

  ‘Where is she? What’s happening?’

  ‘There are two women outside on huge horses wearing trick-or-treat outfits. The one who spoke said her name was Deirdre and that the other was called Nieve.’

  ‘Nieve! Nieve’s here? She’s my aunt.’

  Fallon was angry. He grabbed my shirt with both hands and pulled me close to his face. ‘What are you playing at?’

  I tried to be as calm as I could. ‘What did you tell them?’

  ‘I told them they had to wait.’

  ‘You didn’t…?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘That probably wasn’t a good idea.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know my aunt all that well but waiting isn’t Mom’s strong suit.’

  As if on cue a huge explosion shook the room. Fallon let go of me and said, ‘Stay here!’

  As the door swung behind him I dived across the room and painfully trapped my arm in the doorjamb before it could lock.

  The hallway was filled with dust and smoke. Cops were lying unconscious everywhere. In the distance I could hear screams of ‘My eyes!’ Nieve was casually riding towards me. She had blown out all of the door archways so she didn’t even have to duck. Her right hand was held out to her side and two marble-sized balls of gold were orbiting it like atoms around a nucleus. Two policemen appeared out of a room to her left. Without even looking at them, she flicked her wrist and the gold marbles hit them in the chest. They were thrown back into the room with an explosion of light.

  She spotted me. ‘Conor, are you harmed?’

  ‘No, I’m OK,’ I shouted. ‘Where’s Mom?’

  ‘She is outside preparing a portal. Catch,’ she said, throwing me an oak banta stick.

  I examined it. ‘I prefer hazel.’

  She gave me a dirty look but then smiled. ‘Come,’ she said, holding out her hand.

  I started to reach for it when I heard a voice from behind me say, ‘Freeze!’

  I turned to see Detective Fallon pointing a gun at Nieve. He was obviously freaked.

  ‘Nobody move. Put your hands in the air and get off the horse, lady.’

  ‘Conor,’ Nieve said, ‘what is that in his hand?’

  ‘It’s a weapon, Aunt Nieve.’ She went to reach under her cloak.

  ‘I said freeze!’

  ‘Hold on, Nieve,’ I said, ‘let me talk to him.’

  Fallon kept the gun pointed at Nieve but flicked a glance in my direction. He was real edgy.

  ‘Brendan,’ I said in my calmest voice, ‘this is my Aunt Nieve, my father’s sister. She’s from Tir na Nog, that’s why she is riding a horse. Remember, I told you about that?’

  The muscle in Fallon’s jaw twitched. I wasn’t sure if I was getting through to him.

  ‘I’m going to go with her. Put your gun down and no one will get hurt.’

  ‘What, I’m just supposed to let you walk out of here?’ His gun shook as he spoke. ‘She killed all of my officers.’

  ‘Conor, why are we talking? What is he saying that is so important?’

  ‘He is upset ’cause you killed his men.’

  ‘They will live,’ Nieve said. I could hear the impatience in her voice. ‘Conor, we do not have time for this.’

  She was right. The longer we stood here the more likely it was that more cops would show up and I was desperate to see my mother. I decided to take Fallon out of the equation.

  Unfortunately I was holding my banta stick upside-down so I had to flick the gun out of his hand with the heavy end and then use the light end on his neck. Dahy wouldn’t have been very impressed with the blow but it did the job and the detective went down. I grabbed Nieve’s hand and she lifted me onto the back of the saddle as if I weighed nothing.

  ‘I never got your Christmas card,’ she said as she manoeuvred the horse into the opposite direction.

  ‘Christmas isn’t for two months.’

  ‘Well, that explains it.’ I wasn’t sure if that was a joke or not.

  We rode back through what used to be a police station. No one stopped us. The only sounds were a few moans. Daylight poured through what used to be the front door. I shaded my eyes and was rewarded with the sight of my mother. My heart leapt and I involuntarily kicked the back of the horse, the mount lurched and I almost fell off.

  ‘Be careful, Conor!’ Nieve said. ‘I would prefer not to fall.’

  ‘Of course, sorry.’

  Nieve walked her horse next to Mom’s. I hugged Mom and she returned it. ‘Conor, are you all right?’

  ‘I am now,’ I said.

  ‘Deirdre,’ Nieve said, ‘I do not like this place.’

  ‘How’s Dad?’ I asked, still holding my mother. I never wanted to let go.

  Mom pushed me back. ‘Nieve is right. We must get out of here – we can talk when we get home.’

  Mom took some sap and a gold disc out of her saddlebag and began to chant as she rubbed them both between ands. Amber light shot from her fingertips and created a spider web that eventually filled in to produce a large glowing disc.

  ‘Are you ready?’ Mom asked.

  ‘Born ready.’

  ‘Everybody stay right where you are!’ It was Fallon – with one hand he held his neck, in the other he held a gun.

  Nieve and Mom stepped their horses sideways for a look. ‘Who is this?’ Mom demanded.

  ‘Mom, this is Detective Fallon – Detective Fallon, this is my mother.’

  Fallon pointed the gun menacingly. ‘Everybody get down, we’re all going back inside.’

  Mom and Nieve started to reach inside their cloaks. I raised my hand and stopped them. ‘No we’re not, Brendan, we don’t belong here – I don’t belong here.’

  ‘I said get down!’

  ‘They can’t, Brendan, it would kill them. You see that glowing disc over there, that’s a door into another world – The Land. We are going to enter it and we will be gone. If we are not, then you can shoot me.’

  ‘I’m warning you, O’Neil.’

  ‘Brendan, I didn’t kill my father, he is right on the other side of that door, you have the wrong man. You said it yourself – I’m not a bad guy. Please – you have to trust me.’

  I could almost hear his brain cells working; he lowered his gun and we walked towards the disc. I didn’t look back.

  We arrived in the Hall of Spells. I expected the journey to be painful (most of this Shadowmagic stuff is) but other than a few spots in front of my vision and an annoying ringing in my ears, I was fine.

  I jumped down and gave Mom a proper hug. She returned it quickly but then said, ‘I have to go, I will talk to you later.’ I didn’t like the way she looked; she was still undisputedly the most beautiful woman in the world, but in her eyes I saw a haggard look. She dashed out of the room.

  I was a bit taken aback. I turned to Nieve and said, ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘She is fine, Conor.’

  I let out a sigh of relief and then took in a lungful of air and it hit me, I could feel the vitality seep into every cell. A smile took over my face and I said to myself, ‘I’m back.’ Then I threw my hands out to my sides and shouted to the roof, ‘I’m back!’ I startled a stable boy who quickly led the horses away – that’s when I saw him. Detective Fallon with dishevelled clothes and hair shooting out in all directions was crouched in the corner and he had a wild glint in his eyes. He looked like one of those girls in a slasher movie that had just witnessed her entire sorority get killed.

  ‘Oh my gods,’ I said.

  Our eyes locked, it scared me, I had seen that look before. He was wearing the same face that Fergal wore when he went mad and tried to kill Cialtie.

  ‘Brenan?’

  At the sound of his name he pulled the gun from between his knees and levelled it at me.

  I dropped my banta stick and said, ‘Hey, calm down, Brendan, no one is going to hurt you.’ I walked sl
owly towards him, palms up. He aimed the gun at my face, his arm shaking. I wondered if he even knew who he was. ‘It’s OK, you’re safe. Your name is Brendan Fallon, you have a wife and a daughter, it’s OK we’ll sort this out.’

  At the mention of his family a spark of sanity fluttered in his eyes. He dipped the gun a bit, but then both of us were startled by a voice to the left shouting my name.

  ‘Conor – catch!’

  A banta came sailing through the air. As I caught it, time slowed like it always does when I’m in mortal peril. I saw the lights go out in Fallon’s eyes and I could actually see the muscles in his fingers as they tightened on the trigger, I could almost hear them. I suspected that guns didn’t work in The Land but I didn’t want to take that chance. I performed the same manoeuvre as before, except this time I hit the gun with the light end of the stick and rounded on Fallon’s head with the heavy end. I hit him way harder than I wanted to – that wasn’t my fault, the stick had been thrown by Araf and his stick is filled with lead. The gun clicked at some point during the fracas but it didn’t fire. I was right, they don’t work here. Fallon went down like a ton of concrete and I instantly felt real guilty.

  I rushed to him – he was out cold. Nieve strolled over and placed her hands on both sides of his head. ‘Did I kill him?’ I asked.

  ‘He’ll live,’ she replied and unceremoniously dropped his head back onto the floor.

  Two guards arrived and I instructed them to carry him to the infirmary and keep a guard. ‘Be nice to him,’ I called after them, ‘and make sure he gets some of that willow tea when he wakes up, he’s going to need it.’

  ‘Can I have my stick back?’

  ‘Araf!’ I shouted as I turned. I had almost forgotten he was there. I ran to the Imp and wrapped my arms around him. It was like hugging a refrigerator and I could tell he didn’t like it.

  ‘Are you injured?’ he asked.

  ‘No, I’m fine.’

  He nodded. ‘I have to get back to work now,’ he said and turned to leave.

  ‘Well, it’s great to see you again too,’ I called after him. I laughed – this was the strangest of homecomings.

  Well, it was just me and Nieve. Not my favourite relative but I didn’t care. She stood in the middle of the room wringing her hands; the look on her face wiped the smile off my own.

  ‘Where’s Dad?’ I asked.

  ‘Conor,’ she said, looking down at her hands and then directly into my eyes, ‘Oisin is dying.’

  Chapter Three

  Dad

  I followed Nieve through the winding corridors of the west wing. Dad was in The Lord’s Chamber, the same one that Cialtie had used and where we had found Dad’s runehand.

  ‘Prepare yourself,’ Nieve warned, ‘he does not look good.’

  My stomach churned as I opened the door. Mom, Fand and an Imp-healer were standing around a bed wearing expressions ranging from puzzlement to grief. I had to cover my mouth to hide the gasp – he looked awful. My father’s skin was ashen grey, paper-like, and his face was dotted with sores. Most of his hair had fallen out and what was left was pure white. My first thought was that he was dead already, that’s how bad he looked. I knelt down next to the bed and held his hand.

  ‘Dad, Dad, it’s me, Conor.’

  I didn’t think he could hear me but then his eyes flickered and opened. An almost Duir smile lit his face. ‘Conor? Conor, are you all right?’ His voice was faint and raspy. ‘Deirdre said you were in trouble.’

  ‘I’m fine, Dad.’ I didn’t know what to say, his famous dark eyes had lost their shine. I could hardly stand it.

  ‘Good,’ he said, ‘I was worried about you. So how was your trip home?’

  I laughed, one of those painful laughs that are half a chuckle and half crying. ‘It was awful.’

  ‘What happened when you got back?’

  ‘The police arrested me for your murder.’

  This brought a huge grin to his face. ‘No!’

  ‘Yes,’ I laughed through tears.

  Dad started to laugh too but his laughter was replaced by a spasm of coughs. He had to close his eyes for a half a minute. When he opened them he squeezed my hand and said, ‘I’m glad you’re here.’

  ‘Me too.’ I held his hand for a while and then said, ‘Thanks, Dad.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘I never realised until I went back, just how much you gave up for me. I don’t know how you stood it.’

  ‘Well, when it got really bad, I used to go to your room and watch you sleep, that gave me strength.’

  I dropped my head on his chest and wept openly. He stroked my hair. ‘I have to rest now,’ he said, ‘we’ll talk later.’

  Mom put her hands on my shoulders and guided me out. In the hallway we held onto each other; then she led me into an adjacent room.

  A Leprechaun brought in a tray of tea. Mom thanked her and sent her away. As she handed me a cup, I asked, ‘What’s the matter with him?’

  ‘We’re not sure; she said as she poured herself a cup, ‘but we think it is his hand.’

  ‘His runehand? The one he reattached in the Choosing?’

  ‘Yes. The Land has a life force that binds us to it; your father gave that all up when he escaped to the Real World. I thought getting his hand back would restore his immortality – I was wrong, it has done just the opposite. Our best guess is that The Land is confused, it sees your father as two things, a young hand that belongs here and an older man that does not. The Land is choosing his hand.’

  ‘Like a heart transplant patient rejecting a donor organ?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean but rejecting is a good word. Oisin’s hand is rejecting the rest of him. It is killing him.’

  ‘Isn’t there anything you can do?’

  ‘We have tried everything, to no avail, but there is one desperate measure left to us. Just before you arrived Fand and I decided it is our only hope.’

  ‘What?’

  We are going to use Shadowmagic to encase all of Oisin in tree sap, just as I did with his hand. It will not cure him but it may give us time.’

  ‘Are you sure it’ll work?’

  Mom took a long time before answering. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I am not.’

  I stood on the ramparts of the east wall. The stones under my feet were new and whiter than the rest of the castle. This was the wall that was blown out when Cialtie’s golden circle misfired. Lorcan had done a fine job rebuilding it.

  I looked out and took a deep breath, savouring the pollution-free smell of summer’s end. At a first glance I thought the forest in front of me was on fire. The oaks were incandescent with the colours of fall. Leaves the size of notepad paper had transformed themselves into reds and yellows and golds that looked as if they were lit from within, like Christmas decorations. I remembered the first time I had seen this vista when it was green, I remembered the strength and joy that it had given me. I felt the strength returning, but the joy was denied to me now.

  Below I saw the top of the dolman that Fergal was buried under. ‘Oh Fergal,’ I said to myself, ‘how I could use a friend right now.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Conor,’ said a voice from behind me – it was Araf. ‘I’m sorry about your father and I’m sorry I was so short with you before. It wasn’t my place to be the first to tell you and I’m not very good at hiding my emotions.’

  ‘You surprise me, Araf, I didn’t know you had any emotions,’ I chided, trying to lighten the mood.

  ‘I have them, Conor, although right now I wish I did not.’

  I put my arm over his shoulder and together we looked down at Fergal’s grave. ‘I still miss him terribly,’ he said. ‘He was truly my brother – I never had the chance to tell him that.’

  ‘He knew, my friend, he knew.’

  A guard showed up and said my mother wanted to see me in The Lord’s Chamber. Araf led me down to Dad’s room but he didn’t come in. When we got to the door he didn’t say anything, he simply nodded. I think he mu
st have used up all of his allotted words for the day. Mom, Nieve, Fand and the Imp-healer were standing around Dad’s bed; a Shadowfire flickered on a table. I didn’t think it was possible but he looked worse than he did only a couple of hours earlier.

  ‘We are almost ready,’ Mom said. ‘He wants to speak to you.’

  I knelt down next to him; he turned to me and I could see the effort it took. ‘Conor,’ he whispered, ‘you must take the Choosing. The Land needs a Lord of Duir.’

  ‘You’re the Lord of Duir, Pop.’

  ‘Promise me.’

  ‘I promise.’

  He straightened his head and took a deep breath. ‘Deirdre,’ he said, trying to raise his voice above a whisper, ‘I’m ready.’

  Mom placed a small gold disc on Dad’s tongue. He received it like a Catholic at church, then Mom and Fand each picked up a waxy fist-sized ball of amber sap. They cupped their hands and held it over the Shadowfire; the sap melted leaving them both holding a pool of glowing amber, as if they had scooped water from a stream. Dad’s sheets were removed and I gasped to see that the sores on his face covered his entire body. The only part of him that looked healthy was his runehand. Its heath and vitality only highlighted just how deathly the rest of him looked.

  Mom and Fand stood at the foot of the bed incanting in Ogham – the oldest of tongues. As they chanted they let the sap drip onto Dad’s toes. It covered his feet, then his ankles and then his legs, like it had a mind of its own. I watched in horror as the amber travelled up his chest. When it reached his neck he closed his eyes, took one last gasp of breath and was completely engulfed.

  Mom carried away the remaining sap and let it drip into a bowl. It left no residue on her hands. Then she slowly examined the Shadowmagic shell. When she rolled Dad onto his side to have a look at his back, it shocked me to see him pop up like a marble statue. Fand covered him with a sheet as Mom placed her hands on both sides of his head. After a few minutes she let him go and wiped her nose on her forearm; she looked drained.