Turlough pulled his harp bag off and extracted his precious love, his harp. Maeve had given him this harp with her bride-price. That had been so long ago. A single tear dripped onto his hand as he stroked the strings, searching for the descant to go with the flute’s undulating and enchanting melody.
Soon his mind and fingers flew, copying, innovating until the flute and harp joined in a satisfying other-worldly harmony.
Suddenly someone appeared before him. The tall creature with snow-white skin and black, wild hair presented itself with an ingratiating grin. The smile failed to conceal ragged, bloody teeth. Visions of Maeve’s dying blood jerked Turlough out of enchantment, and he jumped backwards, shoving Ruari behind him with his free hand.
“So, I see you have enjoyed our offering, Musical One. Wouldn’t you like a bigger taste? I can offer you many delicious tunes. Do you fancy yourself worthy of Our Music? All I ask is a small fee.”
Turlough’s throat turned dry. He lusted after this delight. His heart and blood screamed at him to say yes, yes to anything the Fae desired. Bargaining with a Fae was never a good idea, but he had to ask. “A fee? What is it?”
“Just a small one. The boy isn’t that old. His soul won’t be much of a meal, but one must make sacrifices. You have some native talent. You might even survive one of our dances. But first I must have the child.”
The voice shot into Turlough’s bones, at once hissing and yelling. He shook his head and backed up, dragging Ruari with him. He made certain he was between the creature and his son at all times. There was no way he’d let a Fae steal his child.
He wanted nothing more than to turn around and enter that mystical building and surrender himself to the music. If the Fae had asked to feast on Turlough’s soul, he might have been tempted, but his son must be safe.
“Come, Music Maker, just a touch. I won’t take much at first. Maybe some his strength, delicious morsel that it is. But his mind is so tasty. Maybe I’ll take a bit of that instead.”
Before Turlough could stop him, the creature reached one hand out and touched Ruari. His son screamed, a scream that sliced across his soul like a hot knife.
Hand in hand they ran. They ran past the alien trees and the non-birds. They ran to the red willow, now looking more like blood than autumn leaves. There! At the base of the willow was a small hollow. He pushed Ruari in and looked over his shoulder.
Several creatures walked towards him, slow and stately. They were all hauntingly beautiful and had gleeful smiles on their faces.
Ruari couldn’t quite get into the space. “Da, I’m too big! I won’t fit!”
Closer now. They were closer. Every time Turlough looked away from the Fae and into Ruari’s frightened eyes, they moved closer.
He pushed at Ruari, trying to fit him into the hole. He could almost feel the white Fae’s claw-like hands touching his shoulder. He didn’t dare look.
If he ever got out of this, he would hold and treasure his family forever. He would honor Maeve and her life, raise his children, and be part of their lives. He was shamed now that he’d ever run away from them.
Ruari pulled his arm and pointed. “Da! Da, look!”
A female Fae stood at the willow. Her silver eyes were wide, and Turlough wanted to fall into them. “Quick, this way!”
Turlough hesitated. Could this be a trap?
“Never fear, Turlough, it is no trap. I am a friend of your great-grandfather. Long ago I saved him after his journey into our world. Long before he had a son to trade.”
“How can I trust you?” Surely that was the other Fae’s breath on his neck? He still could not look.
The Fae whispered his great-grandfather’s name. “I shall keep them from following. Someday I will meet you again. You can thank me then.” One soft touch of her hand and the formerly solid sides of the entry gave way, softening and stretching as Ruari continued to push. The boy pushed through the now flexible wood, and they breathed the air of their own world.
Turlough squeezed into the hollow and prayed to God that this was the passage back to his world.
He blinked his eyes as he emerged into the salty mist. He couldn’t tell if it was dawn or dusk, but it definitely was no longer Faerie. They were once again under the rocks where they had fallen asleep the night before.
With a great sigh of relief, Turlough hugged Ruari so tightly the boy squeaked.
“Da! You’re hurting me!”
“Ruari, Ruari, I am so sorry I endangered you. Will you ever forgive me?”
“Of course, Da. But…but I’m hungry. Did you save any bread from the last town?”
“I didn’t, but we can go back. They liked our music, and we should be able to sing for our supper in the same tavern tonight. This time there might even be some stew to sop our bread in. Would you like that?”
Ruari nodded. “Da, I would love some stew and some bread, but…can we just gather some berries and go home? I don’t think I want any more adventure.”
Turlough nodded. After almost losing his son, he could deny him nothing. He had a sudden urge to hold all his children forever and never let go. “Aye, we can do that, my son.”
* * *
It had taken longer than Turlough had expected to return.
As he trudged into the village with Ruari in tow, the harp still strapped to his back, Turlough smiled to see Éamonn chopping wood with Enda’s eldest son, Sean. They laughed at something, and then Éamonn looked up. His eyes darkened when he saw Turlough.
Ruari, however, shouted when he saw his brother and ran up to give him a bear hug. Éamonn looked much bigger than Turlough remembered. How had the lad gotten so much taller in just a few weeks?
As the boys went off for their reunion, Turlough sought out Niamh. She wasn’t in her own cottage, so he went to his own to drop off his bag.
The place felt so strange. Things had been moved around already. Everything was clean, of course. Niamh would have made certain of that, with help from the girls. But why had they shifted things around so quickly?
He searched for Niamh. Instead, he found his mother.
“Ma? Ma, what are you doing here? I thought you were still in Clare?”
She put her hands on her hips. His mother had always been tall and massive. She could have given Enda a run for his money in a wrestling match, no doubt. “And where else would I be when my ne’er-do-well son runs off and abandons his family?”
Enda came up behind him and gasped.
His brother-in-law squinted. “Turlough? Turlough, is it really you?”
Turlough blinked. How had Enda grown a full beard in just two weeks? “Of course, it’s me. Who else would I be?”
Enda walked towards him slowly, head cocked. “It is you! Feck all, Turlough, we thought you were never coming back!”
Turlough laughed, but it had a touch of hysteria. “Never? But I was gone only a fortnight!”
His mother walked up to him and put her hands on his shoulders, staring into his eyes. “Turlough…what are you talking about?”
Nervous now, Turlough tried to speak, but he could think of nothing to say.
Enda said, “You’ve been gone the better part of two years, Turlough. We’d given up on you.”
It must have been the time he spent in Faerie. Everyone knew time ran differently in the Otherworld. Turlough swallowed. Time was something no one could control.
His mother nodded to Enda. “Go get the lad and Turlough something to eat, aye? They’ll be fair starved.”
When Enda left, his mother sat down and patted the bench beside her.
“I came for your children, as I said. But I’ve also come to give you something.”
Turlough took her hand. It was so good to see her again. The last time had been when he asked for her blessing to marry Maeve. He sniffed back the tears.
“You see, I have this brooch that’s been handed down in the family for many generations…”
ABOUT CHRISTY NICHOLAS
Christy Nicholas, also known
as Green Dragon, has her hands in many crafts, including digital art, beaded jewelry, writing, and photography. In real life, she’s a CPA, but having grown up with art all around her (her mother, grandmother and great-grandmother are/were all artists), it sort of infected her, as it were. She loves to draw and to create things. She says it’s more of an obsession than a hobby. She likes looking up into the sky and seeing a beautiful sunset, or seeing a fragrant blossom or a dramatic seaside. She takes a picture or creates a piece of jewelry as her way of sharing this serenity, this joy, this beauty with others. Sometimes this sharing requires explanation – and thus she writes. Combine this love of beauty with a bit of financial sense and you get an art business. She does local art and craft shows, as well as sending her art to various science fiction conventions throughout the country and abroad.
* * *
Get in touch with Christy Nicholas:
Website (http://www.greendragonartist.com)
Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/greendragon9)
Facebook GreenDragonAuthor (http://www.facebook.com/greendragonauthor)
LinkedIn (http://www.linkedin.com/in/greendragon9)
Tirgearr Publishing (http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Nicholas_Christy)
OTHER BOOKS BY CHRISTY NICHOLAS
DRUID’S BROOCH SERIES
LEGACY OF HUNGER, #1
Published: October 2015
ISBN: 9781311528575
It’s 1846, and Valentia is bored with the life of a spinster on her father’s prosperous Ohio farm. She is haunted by dreams about Ireland, so vows to travel to find her grandmother’s family and a long-lost family heirloom. On the way, she loses many precious things, but gains far more than she imagined.
LEGACY OF TRUTH, #2
Published: July 2016
ISBN: 9781310151149
Gifted with a magical brooch, passed down in her family for generations, Esme finds herself isolated and ill in an unfamiliar land. Her sister plots to steal the family heirloom from her in order to exploit the magical powers for her own gain, and Esme must battle for survival of herself and those she loves.
LEGACY OF LUCK, #3
Published: January 2017
ISBN: 9781370831975
Irish Traveler Éamonn loves gambling, women, and drinking, not necessarily in that order. But he’s entangled in a true mess when he falls for fiery redhead, Katie. When she’s married to a Scottish Traveler, Éamonn travels to Scotland to find her, with the help of Katie’s sister and cousin, and the magical brooch gifted by his father. Their quest takes them across the Irish Sea to the Isle of Skye, encountering war, betrayal, death. In the end, Éamonn must make his own luck.
ALSO BY CHRISTY
THE HIDDEN GUIDES
Do you find yourself drawn to the magic of the Emerald Isle or Scotland? Would you like to see places beyond the typical tourist traps? Come, join me on a journey through the mists of legend, into the hidden places of mystery. Immerse yourself in the legends and myths, the history that has made this island precious in the hearts and minds of millions. Along with the tales and history, there is practical information on planning your trip, budgeting your costs, and finding the best places to while away the magical hours of your holiday.
IRELAND: MYTHICAL, MAGICAL, MYSTICAL
A Guide to Hidden Ireland
Released: June 2013
ISBN: 9781301520725
The Mythical Facet – History and Myth-tery
The Magical Facet – The Fair Folk
The Mystical Facet – Gods and Saints
The Personal Facet – Friendly Folk
The Musical Facet – A Song and Dance
The Stunning Facet – Photo opportunities
The Tasty Facet – Irish Fare
The Practical Facet – How do I…?
The Frugal Facet – Budgets, Discounts, and Deals
The Hidden Facet – Undiscovered Places
SCOTLAND: STUNNING, STRANGE, SECRET
A Guide to Hidden Scotland
Released: November 2014
ISBN: 9781311036391
History and Myth
Superstitions and Beliefs
Gods and Saints
Highland Hospitality
Ceilidhs and Flings
Stunning Shots
Haggis and Cullen Skink
Plans and Mechanics
Discounts and Deals
Hidden Gems
STANDALONE TITLES
THE ENCHANTED SWANS
Released: March 2017
ISBN: 9781370316731
In pre-Celtic Ireland, Fionnuala is a fae princess with hopes and dreams of love and a full life. But all her dreams are stolen from her, ripped away in a torrent of envy and magic, and forces to live under an evil curse—she and her brothers having been transformed into swans. Will she find a way to break the spell, or will they remain swans, tethered to three places for nine hundred years?
CALL OF THE MORRIGÚ
Released: July 2017
ISBN: 9781370942718
1798 Ireland – While rebellions are rising across the countryside, Theodosia Latimer and her grandfather Reginald are on a mission to discover the past. But when they discover an imprisoned goddess straight out of Ireland’s rich mythological history, they're both amazed and frightened. Will they be able to tame her lust for violence in the upcoming rebellion? Or will they fall victim to it?
Turlough's Tale: Driud's Brooch Series: short story extra (Druid's Brooch Book 0) Page 2