“Mum,” she began.
Edane, a stór! Edane, my love!
The King’s cries rang out across the glen.
Mother and daughter broke apart. It was an awkward moment. Dana could see that Edane was torn, reluctant to leave her child but yearning, also, to go to her husband. Dana herself felt confused. She cared for Lugh, but didn’t want him there. A surge of anger shot through her. She reached out for her mother and held on tightly.
Gently, Edane separated from her daughter.
“I will return to you soon,” she said softly.
And like a flame in the wind, she was gone.
Dana watched as the two shining figures met on the ridge opposite her. They stood apart for some time. She wondered if too much had happened between them. If they wouldn’t be able to bridge the past. Then they moved toward each other and embraced beneath the stars, and it looked as if they would remain that way forever.
In that moment, Dana felt truly alone.
It was time to go home.
Slowly she made her way down the wooded slope. She would go to the eco-camp and find Big Bob. Get him to ring her dad. As she pushed her way through the bracken and briars, she struggled against the pall of disillusionment. It all seemed such a letdown. She had succeeded in her quest and achieved her dream, yet she didn’t feel happy or even glad. Nothing had turned out as she had hoped or dreamed. Though she was overjoyed to have found her mother, she still suffered the same feelings of absence and loss. Edane looked too young to be the mom of a twelve-year-old. And it was already clear that she wouldn’t stay with Dana, but would return to live with her husband, the King.
Lost in sad thoughts, Dana didn’t see Yallery Brown until she bumped into him.
His brown paper clothes rustled like autumn leaves. His eyes blinked through the straggles of hair.
“Bejapers, there’s a face as long as yer arm,” he said. “And where on earth do ye think yer off to, missyella?”
“Home,” she said, too miserable to elaborate.
“Is yer story finished, then?” He looked surprised.
Dana nodded.
Yallery shook his head, and the long hair danced around him like a bird’s nest caught in an eddy of wind.
“What? Did the oul fat lady sing? Are ye tellin’ me I missed her?”
Despite herself, Dana started to giggle.
“Asha, it isn’t over yet, a leanbh,” he chided. “Ye look divil a bit like a happy-ever-after.”
He was already rummaging in his pockets. Before Dana could say anything, he had taken out a dandelion, and huffed and puffed her away.
When Dana landed on the summit of Lugnaquillia, she found the mountain lit up like a millennium cake. A thousand tall candles and flaming torches illumined the night. The castle itself was ablaze with chandeliers sparkling through the crystal walls. Music wafted out the open casements to be echoed by minstrels wandering in the gardens. Banners and flags fluttered on the parapets. Silken pavilions were pitched on the dim lawns. The air resounded with the revelry of the crowds who danced and sang and played. All creatures great and small, all beings bright and beautiful, had obviously come to celebrate the return of the Queen.
Dana hovered at the edges of the throng. She was hoping to spot Ivy or Honor or anyone else she knew. Still dressed in her traveling clothes, she felt out of place, as if she had stumbled onto some stranger’s party. She wished Yallery hadn’t sent her there.
Wandering aimlessly, she arrived at the crater that contained the white saucer in which she and Ivy had made their escape from the demon. A shudder ran through her at the thought of Murta. But everything looked different. The hollow was garlanded in sweet-scented roses of white and yellow. There were little ladders and stiles to invite people in. Squeals of terror and delight echoed through the air. Dana climbed up to see.
The crater was packed with odd sods and bods waiting for the saucer, like people lined up for a Disney attraction. With a great whoosh it arrived, carrying a gaggle of screeching boggles. Dana looked among them eagerly, but no sign of Ivy. She spotted Bird at the same moment he saw her. His eyes widened and filled with tears. She could tell he was about to run away.
Before he could bolt, she jumped into the crater and raced to grab him.
“You’re it!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. Then she whispered quickly into his ear. “It’s okay, Bird. We’re friends.”
As soon as the others heard her cry, they shrieked with glee. The game was on. Dana smiled as they scattered, but didn’t join them. She didn’t feel like playing. It was then she admitted to herself that there was only one person she wanted to meet there. And she was suddenly that lonely child again, sitting on the steps, looking up and down the street, waiting and wishing.
She had just decided to leave when a voice chirped at her elbow.
“Here you is! I be’s looking for you everywhere!”
Ivy was all dressed up in a skirt of woven bluebells with a necklace and bracelet of lapis lazuli.
Dana was so delighted to see her she picked up the little boggle and swung her around.
“Am I ever glad you’re here! I hardly know anyone. I don’t suppose …” Dana hesitated. She didn’t want to spoil the fun, but Ivy was like her best friend. She could be honest with her. “I want to go home. Could you help me get back to Bray?”
Ivy burst out laughing.
“You can’ts go home, silly. This be’s your party!”
“What?”
“Don’ts you know? This be’s in your honor!”
ully restored and resplendent, Lugh of the Mountain, Lugh of the Wood, stood upon the crest of the ridge. He saw nothing and no one but the Lady of Light who stepped toward him, her hair aflame like the sunset.
They did not draw close, but kept the distance of strangers. Each wore a golden mask of pain. Yet they gazed hungrily upon each other, desiring to bridge the dark of their past.
“My Lady, forgive me that I did not come to thy aid when I heard thee cry out from the shadows.”
“You were bound under a spell of stone and earth, a chroí.”
“Still, I should have come to thee.”
“My Lord, forgive me that I did break our covenant and cause thee such torment.”
“You fell into a spell of love and forgetting, a stór, and you suffered for it.”
“Still, it grieves me to have afflicted thee so.”
As they spoke together, their masks faded away. For love is as strong as death. Passion as fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame. Many waters cannot quench it. Neither can floods drown it.
She flew toward him like a bird flying home in the evening. His arms were the branches of a tree on the lee of the mountain.
“My love,” they murmured to each other. “My only love.”
And lo, the winter is past, the flowers appear on the earth, and the time of the singing of birds is come.
efore Dana could say anything more to Ivy, a tantara of trumpets rang out over the mountain. Now a great roar rose up from the throng as King Lugh and Queen Edane arrived. He wore the green and brown of hill and forest, with a flowing mantle of dark-purple and a chaplet of oak leaves. She glimmered like the sky in silver-blue and white, her fiery hair bound with a winged crystal crown. Arm in arm, the royal couple greeted their subjects with the same love and joy that was showered upon them.
Dana edged her way to the back of the crowd. Her feelings were jumbled. She could barely comprehend that this beautiful queen was her mother, and Lugh himself seemed too majestic and unreachable. Her overriding emotion was one of dismay. Must it be like this? Would she always be an outsider?
Silence fell over the huge gathering as the King raised his hand.
“Pleasant it is, beloved friends, to meet at last on the summer lawns, after the longest winter the Mountain Kingdom has ever known. This is a time of great jubilation. Let it be known that there is one amongst us whom we must thank for this wondrous day.”
>
Dana nearly died of embarrassment as all eyes turned in her direction. Both Lugh and Edane were smiling at her with such an intensity of love that she had to look away.
The King lifted his hand to quiet the applause.
“Yet it is not we who shall give her praise and thanks this night, but honored guests who come to our table. Give welcome, my people, to the High King and High Queen of Faerie.”
As the horns of Elfland rang out once more, a fatamorgana of sound swelled over the mountain. Bands of multicolored light shot into the air like fireworks, as a mighty stone archway took shape in their midst.
“There’ll be talk of UFOs in the Wicklow Hills tomorrow,” Dana whispered to Ivy.
“You’s for what?” hissed Ivy, but she kept her eyes on the shining portal.
When their High Majesties stepped through the arch, Dana was more than surprised to discover she knew both of them. The High King over all kings was none other than the tall stranger she had met in the glen, the one who had first told her to follow the greenway. Clothed in black like the night, he wore his red-gold hair loose upon his shoulders. On his brow shone the star of sovereignty.
But it was the young woman beside him who surprised Dana the most. No longer caught betwixt and between, no longer uncertain of who she was, Honor stood by her husband with the regal poise of a High Queen. Her silken gown was green and gold, her crown inlaid with precious stones. She addressed the assembly.
“Joyous we are that our Tánaiste, Lugh of the Mountain, Lugh of the Wood, is restored to the Realm. Joyous, too, are we that the Light-Bearer has returned to us. Today a battle was won in the heart of the woods and in the hearts of humanity. Yet more glad tidings we bring to thee.”
An expectant hush fell over the crowd. Only Dana was uneasy. She found it hard to catch her breath. Some nameless thing was pressing against her chest, demanding to be recognized. Her heart beat wildly, like the heart of a bird, as the High King spoke.
“Today the mortals saved the woods. As it has always been since time began, it is humanity who must come to the rescue of Fairyland. It is humanity who must fight the shadows of the Enemy. We have many champions in the mortal realm whom we call our dear neighbors. But know this and rejoice, my people. One more powerful than all the rest has entered the two worlds.”
The child part of Dana wanted to run. Off down the slope and onto the road and back to Bray. Far, far away from the grand destiny that called to her.
Queen Edane stepped forward with a glad proud look.
“I am the Light-Bearer who bore the Light. Where is the Light to bridge the darkness?”
Dana did not run.
Her mission in the mountains had prepared her for this. Her quest had been her training. Her search was for herself. Deep in her mind, the wolf threw back its head and howled; the monster rose up from the lake to rest its head against her brow.
As the crowds parted before her, cheering and crying out her name, Dana took her place among kings and queens.
Lugh winked at Dana before making the last announcement.
“The formalities are done! Let us play in Dana’s name! For what use is life without fun and laughter?”
As the party resumed with even more abandon, Dana turned to her mother; but before they could speak together, Queen Edane was swept away in a wave of well-wishers clamoring to see her.
Dana’s heart sank.
“It will not always be like this,” a voice said gently beside her. “Your time with your mother will come.”
Dana turned to Honor with an air of reproach.
“You’re the High Queen of Faerie!”
“Yeah, can you believe it?” Honor burst out laughing.
“Did you know, then? Who my mother was? That I—”
“I did and I didn’t,” the older girl said quickly. “Honestly, I hardly knew my own name half the time. Midir—the High King, my husband—he knew, of course, he knows everything, well, almost everything, since he’s been around for millennia or more. He says it was better that way, as it let me get around the rules.” She shrugged. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
The High Queen reached for a tray of fairy buns as it flew by them on wings.
“Here, try these. They’re fantastic! Those are flakes of real gold. You can eat them.”
Dana couldn’t resist the cakes or her friend’s good humor.
“I did not mean to deceive you,” Honor added in a more serious tone. “Know that I, too, was on a mission to find my true self. My husband took a risk bestowing the task upon me, and he did it for my sake as well as yours. Thus you helped me even as I helped you, as is the way in all the worlds.”
“I understand,” Dana said, nodding. And she did.
With the matter resolved between them, the two were giggling and laughing together when Queen Edane joined them.
“My dear daughter,” she murmured, planting a kiss on Dana’s head. “I am so proud of you.”
Dana’s heart swelled, but she was also a little uncomfortable. It would take time to accept that this fairy queen was indeed her mother. Dana had already decided to call her by her first name, the way she did with Gabriel.
“I should go home, Edane. Gabe’ll be out of his mind. It’s not fair to him.”
The Queen slipped her arm around Dana’s shoulders.
“Do not fret, a leanbh. You will return to your father soon. Time is a thing we may order as we will. While you revel here, not one second will pass in the Earthworld. This is your feast, Dana. The reward for all your hard work. Enjoy it!”
Edane’s words melted the last of Dana’s reservations, and enjoy herself she did: frolicking with Ivy and the other boggles; dancing with foxes and fairies, tree spirits and giants; singing with the wild birds who nested on the crags; and rolling down the hillsides with parties of pixies.
In between the fun and games, like a silver thread woven through the soft dark night, were all the times her mother sought her out. Together, they would go for a walk along the great cirque beneath the stars. Or meander through the winding paths of the maze illumined by white candles. Or sit together on an ivy-covered swing surrounded by the night perfume of the flowers. And each time they met, stories were told, of the few years they had been together and the many years they had been apart. Sometimes there were tears and sometimes there was sorrow, but love and laughter were always near. Though Dana didn’t tell her mother half the things she had intended to say, she knew their true tale was only beginning; and they had all the time in the world to get to know each other.
tarlight shone over the Glen of the Downs as night deepened. The public protest had ended. The day was won. As the national news reported the events, the developers withdrew their equipment and retreated from the site. The surprise attack had failed; a long battle in the courts loomed ahead.
At the central campsite, a small group of eco-warriors approached Big Bob, bringing Murta with them. Two of the young men gripped his arms so that he couldn’t escape. He looked as if he had been badly beaten. His body was not only bruised and cut, but burned as well.
“Which of you did this to him?” Big Bob thundered.
The young men were so shocked by the accusation they couldn’t speak at first.
“Well, we didn’t!” Billie spoke up, indignant. “Though we might’ve wanted to, after we saw him with the others. He showed up like this earlier, when he told us about the dump. You weren’t here. He said the private guards had roughed him up when they found him snooping.”
“That’s why we believed him,” one of the others pointed out.
Their leader calmed down and signed to them to let Murta go.
“I trusted you,” Big Bob said to him. “You were my right hand. Why did you betray us?”
Murta tried to glare defiantly but couldn’t hold the other man’s gaze. The past week had been a blur. He assumed he had been infected with some kind of virus, no doubt from living outdoors. He was more than glad that his part in this n
ightmare was over.
“Just doing my job,” he said hoarsely. “I was never one of you. Big companies pay me to infiltrate groups like yours—unions, radicals, troublemakers. It’s a living.”
“While your soul is dying.” Big Bob looked sad. “If you win, you lose, Murta. It’s your birthright, too, we’re fighting to protect.”
Murta spat on the ground. He turned to leave, hunching defensively in case someone tried to stop him. But they all moved away, as if he were leprous.
Big Bob watched him go, then sat down at the fire with a heavy sigh. Billie joined him and two of the men. The other eco-warriors returned to the forest, some to repair their tree houses and others to take up their posts.
Gabriel drove through the Glen of the Downs on his way into the mountains for yet another night’s search. With him was Aradhana, who had stayed by his side since his daughter’s disappearance. He slowed the car as he approached the campsite, intending to check in with Big Bob. The eco-warriors had been taking turns to help look for Dana. The people who had joined in the protest had already gone home, pleased with the part they had played that day. A lone police car remained.
As he turned in to the parking lot, Gabriel happened to glance in his rearview mirror. He caught his breath. Halfway up the slope on the other side of the road, a light glinted in the trees. He jumped out of the car to look again. There it was! A silvery glow. His heart pounded. He told himself it was probably a flashlight, one of the tree people patrolling the far ridge. But the coincidence compelled him to investigate. It was precisely the spot he had blocked from his sight for many years now.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said quickly to Aradhana. “Wait for me here.”
Aradhana didn’t respond, but she followed after him as he raced across the road and into the trees.
The Light-Bearer's Daughter Page 21