Fionn did as he was told, and even fluffed the cushions as a show of good faith to his mother, though if he knew where Elizabeth was going to sit, he might have slipped a pin in there.
As he finished, his grandfather appeared hesitantly around the door, whistling to himself. ‘Is it safe to come out yet?’ he mock-whispered. ‘Or is she still giving everyone jobs?’
Fionn hugged a cushion to his chest. ‘Did you know about this secret meeting?’
‘Aye.’
‘And you didn’t try to stop it?’
‘Stop it?’ he said, his brows rising. ‘I encouraged it.’
Fionn glared at him. ‘But the Tide Summoner –’
‘Fionn.’ His grandfather raised his hand. ‘That shell is a fool’s errand. We don’t know a thing about it.’
‘So you’re giving up on me then,’ said Fionn sourly. ‘You don’t even want to consult me about island stuff any more.’ Of all the people in this little house, Fionn would have expected his grandfather to include him in the decision to call the other families to Tír na nÓg, but he had been weighed up and considered lacking while he slept, and that stung him more than anything his sister had already said to him that morning.
His grandfather removed his glasses, and cleaned them on the corner of his blue jumper. ‘This is not me giving up on you, Fionn. This is me getting in your corner and standing with you. We can’t wait any longer for your magic to behave. We’re almost out of time and the islanders need to know what’s happening.’
He slid his glasses back up his nose, and looked at Fionn over the rims. ‘There is no weakness in knowing when to ask for help. There is strength in vulnerability and there is strength in numbers. And believe it or not, there are forces stronger than magic, lad.’ He tapped Fionn on his nose, smiling broadly when he said, ‘But there is nothing so strong as a grandfather’s love.’
Fionn only glared harder at him. ‘You are not talking your way out of this one.’
His grandfather sighed. ‘If it makes you feel any better, inviting Betty Beasley and her spawn into my house will be as painful for me as it will be for you.’
Fionn folded his arms across his chest. ‘It had better be.’
Chapter Seven
THE POET’S TALE
Elizabeth Beasley materialised on the doorstep at precisely 9 a.m., as if she had been summoned from a Ouija board. She pushed past Fionn, into the warm glow of the cottage. ‘It’s freezing out there,’ she said, as Douglas shuffled in behind her. ‘I’ll have a tea. Milk, and three spoons of sugar.’
She didn’t say please.
By way of greeting, Douglas pointed over his shoulder and said, ‘Three dead robins in your garden, Boyle. You might want to see to that.’
The Cannons came then. Alva, who was both a teacher in Fionn’s school and an old family friend, embraced Fionn’s mother as if they hadn’t seen each other in a hundred years, despite having had lunch together two days before. Her brother Niall had accompanied her. An old classmate of Cormac Boyle, he was the Captain of the Lifeboat Crew now. He was suitably weather-beaten and stubbled – and looked to Fionn like he could scale the Arranmore Cliffs with his bare hands if he needed to. He smiled warmly at him as he slipped inside, ruffling Fionn’s hair in a way that made him think of the father he had never known.
The Patton delegates arrived on the heels of the Cannons, and though they brought news of another two ferry-loads of Soulstalkers come to shore just that morning, Fionn was glad to see Sam traipsing into the cottage alongside his father. ‘No one else wanted to get up this early,’ he said with a shrug. ‘We’re not morning people.’
They found a sliver of space in the rapidly filling sitting room, Mr Patton settling into a chair dragged in from the kitchen, while Sam wandered around the shelves, trailing his finger curiously along the candle labels.
Tom Rowan, a wily old sheep farmer from the heartland of the island, came on behalf of the non-descendants of Arranmore, a fresh packet of biscuits in one hand ‘just in case’, and his pitchfork in the other – just in case. Juliana Aguero hadn’t been invited, but he had happened upon her in Donal’s shop and revealed just enough to make her trail after him curiously all the way to Tír na nÓg. ‘I thought I’d better come too,’ she told Fionn gravely as he led them inside. ‘I owe it to my fellow students. I am a prefect, you know.’
In the little sitting room of Tír na nÓg, the committee assembled themselves between endless shelves of candles, armed with tea and biscuits and grim smiles.
‘Well, here we all are,’ said Fionn’s grandfather, who was sitting on the floor by the fireplace. ‘The Knights of the Round Sitting Room. It has quite a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?’
‘We are hardly knights, Malachy,’ said Elizabeth primly, from Fionn’s grandfather’s favourite armchair. She looked pointedly at Fionn when she added, ‘And we certainly have no Arthur. No leader at all, in fact.’
‘Proper order, Betty. That’s our Storm Keeper you’re talking to,’ said Niall Cannon, earning an impressed smile from Fionn’s mother. ‘Fionn will lead if you give him half a chance.’
‘I’ve given him half a year,’ Elizabeth shot back. ‘And now the island is practically overrun!’
‘This is a committee with a common goal.’ Alva slipped seamlessly into her teacher’s voice – calm and measured, with just a hint of authority. ‘Let’s not be nasty to each other.’
‘Let’s not be murdered,’ said Douglas, who was standing stiffly by the window, blocking the morning light with his boxy shoulders. ‘How about that?’
Mr Patton raised his mug. ‘Do you have a drop of whiskey for the tea, Evie?’
‘Dad,’ hissed Sam. ‘The sun’s barely up!’
‘I’ll have one too, if it’s going,’ said Fionn’s grandfather. ‘Hold the tea though.’
‘Malachy,’ snapped Fionn’s mother. ‘Behave.’
Fionn’s grandfather raised a hand in surrender. ‘As you were, Evie.’
‘Yes, Evelyn,’ said Elizabeth. ‘You certainly look like you want to say something, which is surprising, quite frankly. It’s been a long time since the McCauleys have bothered to involve themselves in island business, considering most of you emigrate every chance you get.’
Fionn’s mother levelled Elizabeth with a long, dark look. ‘Well, you have one standing in front of you now, Betty.’
‘Then say something,’ said Elizabeth coolly.
Fionn looked up at his mother. She was standing with her back to the fireplace, her arms folded across her chest.
‘We’ve gathered you here this morning so that you might speak for your families and help us face a … concern.’ She pressed the word between her lips. ‘As Betty kindly pointed out, our island is being overrun by Morrigan’s followers. Hordes of Soulstalkers have already made their way back to Arranmore, and they continue to arrive with every ferry crossing. The island is suffering, and we need to do something about it.’
There was a collective murmur of agreement.
‘It’s come on so suddenly,’ said Alva, shaking her head. ‘All those horrible rotting fish yesterday.’
‘And that awful whale,’ said Douglas, with moustache-twitching disgust. ‘The sight of it would give you nightmares.’
‘My best horse is dying,’ announced Tom Rowan. ‘I found Clyde slumped in the ruins of the old McCauley house yesterday. West Nile Virus, the vet says.’
‘But we’re nowhere near Egypt,’ said Juliana, who was perched like a frightened bird on the edge of the couch. ‘It’s miles away!’
‘Well, obviously,’ said Elizabeth, in a bored voice. Of everyone in the little cottage, she alone had remained in her outdoor wear. She was swaddled snugly in her fur coat, her equally elaborate hat giving her the unmistakeable air of a Titanic survivor. ‘Why would the animals get off so easily? The Soulstalkers are affecting everything.’
‘Cowan’s Lake is completely frozen over,’ said Alva. ‘I took the twins up there this morning for our morn
ing walk.’
‘And I haven’t been able to create in months,’ said Sam’s dad, shaking his head. ‘The Times called my last collection “barely memorable”.’ He looked around the room in dismay. ‘Never in my life have I had to endure such –’
‘Get a hold of yourself, Phil,’ snapped Elizabeth. ‘I hardly think your declining genius is a consequence of our invasion. Although I can see the convenience in lumping it into our pool of grievances.’
Douglas snorted.
‘Should we lump your arduous personality in while we’re at it, Betty?’ said Fionn’s mother. ‘Because it certainly isn’t helping us focus here.’
Niall covered his smile with his hand. Fionn and Sam didn’t bother to trap their amusement, choosing instead to laugh loudly and openly, for much longer than necessary.
‘All Dad’s roses died last night. There was nothing but thorns everywhere when we woke up,’ said Juliana, her dark eyes wide with fear. ‘They’re ruining our land.’
‘And the tides too,’ said Douglas. ‘They’re lower than I’ve ever seen them. Keeping to their own rhythm, and bringing dead things with them. The fishermen don’t know what to make of it.’
‘It’s peculiar all right,’ said Niall, hunching forward. ‘Last night, when the last ferry-load came in, I followed the Soulstalkers across the island.’ He shifted his gaze from side to side, as though there might be watchers at the windows. Everyone leaned a little closer. Even Elizabeth’s chair creaked in the silence.
‘They moved like an army. They didn’t pause once. I tracked them all the way towards the lighthouse, and then down by the cliffs. They got on their hands and knees and went right over the edge. I waited as long as I could, but they didn’t come back up.’ He shook his head, a frown knitting his dark brows together. ‘Not one of them returned.’
‘So the creepy devils are hiding under the island,’ said Tom, sucking a breath through his teeth. ‘But to what end?’
Fionn and Sam exchanged a look. The same one passed between Fionn’s mother and his grandfather, but it was Tara who spoke up.
‘They’re waiting for the winter solstice. On December the twenty-first, Morrigan’s magic will be at its strongest. Now that she’s awake, that’s when they’re going to try and raise her.’ The silence grew thick with alarm, but Tara cut through it. ‘They’re down in that cave with her. Fionn and I have been in there. There’s plenty of room to hide. You can get lost in there easily.’
‘Yes,’ said Alva and Niall quietly, and Fionn remembered they once had a brother called Albert, who had met such a fate many years ago.
‘The solstice is in two days’ time!’ said Elizabeth, pointing accusingly at Fionn. ‘If the Soulstalkers are really planning some kind of terrible coup, as you say, then why on earth haven’t you done something about it?’
Fionn felt the question fill the room like a big dark cloud, crackling and swelling around them until sweat beaded on the back of his neck. He looked at his grandfather imploringly, but there was no answer shining in his eyes. There was only the truth now, and someone was going to have to say it.
‘Well?’ prompted Elizabeth.
With his gaze firmly pinned to the floorboards, Fionn took a deep breath and said, ‘My magic isn’t working … It’s never worked.’
Elizabeth gasped.
‘What?’ spluttered Douglas.
‘But you’re the Storm Keeper!’ cried Juliana. ‘You’re supposed to be our guardian!’
‘I know,’ said Fionn awkwardly. ‘But I can’t wield the elements. They don’t … well, they don’t listen to me.’
‘Yet,’ said his grandfather.
Alva pressed a hand to her throat. ‘Oh, Fionn.’
‘Magic’s not exactly easy,’ said Sam, rushing to Fionn’s defence. ‘Being the Storm Keeper is a lot of pressure.’
‘It’s only a matter of time before his magic kicks in,’ added Fionn’s mother.
Elizabeth rounded on her. ‘Time we don’t have!’
‘We’ll all be dead by the time he figures himself out,’ reeled Douglas. ‘Along with our animals!’
‘Calm yourself,’ warned Niall. ‘This is hardly the lad’s fault.’
Juliana’s hands were shaking so badly, she had to tuck them under her knees. ‘Well, what are we supposed to do if we don’t have a proper Storm Keeper?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ said Tara, with so much confidence the entire room turned to stare at her. ‘We defend ourselves. Those stupid Soulstalkers will be no match for an entire island!’
She grinned, her gaze shifting to the candle-lined shelves behind their shoulders.
Fionn shifted uncomfortably.
But before Tara could continue, Douglas pushed off the window sill, and began pacing the room, like a police detective. ‘What do we know about Morrigan and her followers?’ he demanded. ‘What exactly are we dealing with here?’ He peered down at Sam’s dad, his moustache twitching expectantly. ‘Come on, Patton. You’re the resident bard. You must know a thing or two about the old world?’
Mr Patton closed his eyes and frowned, and just when Fionn thought he might rebuff Douglas or fall asleep from his sudden stillness, he cleared his throat and said in a voice halfway between a song and a prayer, ‘Let me tell you a tale of the Raven Queen.’
Elizabeth sighed. ‘Oh, Douglas. Truly.’
Fionn’s grandfather crossed his legs and leaned back against the wall, like he was going on a serene boat ride. ‘Ah, the poet’s tale.’
‘Go on, Dad,’ said Sam encouragingly. ‘We’re listening.’
‘They say Morrigan was born in a village trapped in an eternal winter,’ Mr Patton began solemnly. He kept his eyes closed, while Elizabeth rolled hers so hard the irises disappeared. ‘A pale, sickly place that rarely saw the sun. It teetered on the banks of a crystal lake that turned the town back on itself, its reflection rippling in the mouths of silverfish. The trees were drenched in snow and black with ravens, and they screeched endlessly, from sunrise to nightfall.’
‘Why did I ask?’ muttered Douglas. ‘Why did I even ask?’
‘Shhh,’ said Tara.
‘Morrigan was born with power unlike anything her village had ever seen,’ Mr Patton went on, unfazed. ‘Even so, she was not considered worthy of wearing her father’s crown. She was much smaller and weaker than her older brothers, so she grew up alone and neglected. But her power grew with her.’
Fionn frowned. He had never stopped to wonder where Morrigan had come from, or even if she had once been young. He had never considered the idea that she had been born into a family, with parents, and siblings, just as he was.
‘This is absolute fantasy,’ said Elizabeth to no one in particular. ‘We did not come here for a performance.’
‘Speak for yourself, Betty,’ said Tom. ‘My TV’s been broken for over a month.’
‘Morrigan’s father was the head of her village,’ Mr Patton continued. ‘He was fearless. Feared. But he longed to increase his influence, to control those who dwelled far beyond his own territory. After years of searching, he finally came upon a ritual that could increase his power many times over, but Morrigan stole it for herself. The old tales say she murdered her father and used his blood sacrifice to complete the ritual. But by doing so, she turned her magic dark. Powerful as it was, it could only work for evil deeds.
‘Oh my gosh,’ said Juliana.
Mr Patton nodded sombrely, and Fionn got the sense that he was enjoying this a bit too much. ‘After that, Morrigan moved her reign of terror across the continents, killing all the magic-born and amassing mortal followers as she went. She strung them to her by their souls, which she wore around her neck. She was strong, and so were they. She was quick and violent, and they became so too. When she first set foot in Ireland, her cape rippled with twenty thousand trapped souls – soldiers made solely for killing and conquering, who hung on her every command. They set a course for Dagda and, well, the rest as they say, is history.’ He stroked his chin th
oughtfully, before adding, ‘Or, in this case, I suppose it’s actually “present”.’
He snapped his eyes open then, shook the story from his shoulders, like a cloak, and shrugged. ‘That’s the best I can do, lads.’
Alva blinked. ‘You need to work on your endings, Phil.’
‘At least he had one,’ said Elizabeth snidely. ‘I thought I’d be in my grave before he finished.’
‘I wish,’ muttered Fionn.
Sam chuckled.
‘Well, we can all thank our wonderful Storm Keeper for welcoming these terrible creatures so readily to Arranmore,’ said Elizabeth. ‘The most obvious and dangerous invasion in recent history, and you couldn’t lift a finger to stop it. Any worthy Storm Keeper could have toppled those boats with the flick of their wrist yesterday. Douglas says you were even out on the strand watching them when they moored! Truly, Fionn, your incompetence is unparalleled.’
Fionn’s mother threw her a withering look. ‘If I recall correctly, it was the Beasley family who first welcomed Ivan to these shores, who shared the secrets of the Storm Keeper with him, and no doubt helped him find his way to Morrigan’s grave in the first place.’
‘Yeah,’ said Tara, matching the intensity of their mother’s glare. ‘If they’re so obvious and dangerous, why were you cosying up to one all summer?’
‘Well, Ivan was entirely different from those … those zombies,’ said Douglas, in a bluster. ‘He looked like one of us – talked that way too! The lad was smart and cunning and manipulative. He was persuasive in a way we could hardly resist. Perhaps it was a kind of magic. Who knows?’
‘Or a kind of stupidity,’ muttered Tom Rowan. ‘The man was an oddball from the outset. He braided his beard, for Dagda’s sake.’
Fionn wondered at Douglas’s words. He had been wrestling with the same thought all night – haunted by Ivan’s face in his dreams. Why was Ivan so different from the other Soulstalkers? How had he been able to walk and talk, like a normal human, to reel the Beasleys into his web of lies?
The Lost Tide Warriors Page 6