by Che Golden
Then she felt a tugging sensation on her hand, and even though she could still see her own pink flesh against the Stone, she could definitely feel her hand being sucked into the Stone, the rock closing over it as tight as a vice.
She forgot the massive drop below her as panic took over and she twisted and bucked to pull her hand free. Seamus leaned down hard on her legs to keep her steady and said, ‘Relax, Maddy. Don’t fight it. The sensation will pass in a moment, but you have got to relax. Your hand is fine – it’s not really inside the Stone, it’s just the way the Stone makes you feel as it makes a connection with you. Look at your hand, Maddy, you can see it!’
‘You come down here and relax!’ she yelled, as her hair whipped around her face and her head began to throb.
As suddenly as it came, the sucking sensation was gone and Maddy could not see or hear anything. The world went black for a split second and then it was like someone had switched on a light. She was standing upright in a round stone room. She lifted her shaking hands in front of her face and then plucked at her clothes. Nothing was sealed in stone, no one was holding on to her and she was definitely the right way up. She looked around her and noticed who was in the room with her.
Twelve black-robed figures drifted toward her. She could not see a hand or hear a footfall and their faces were shrouded with such large hoods that all she could make out was pinpricks of light glittering in the rough vicinity of their eye sockets. The room was dimly lit by candles that smoked greasily. Cauldrons bubbled all around, books were stacked in every nook and cranny and a raven cocked its head to glare at her with its bright black eye on a perch that looked suspiciously like it was carved from bone.
The Coranied. Maddy felt like she had been dropped into a snake pit.
Feral Child, whispered a dozen sibilant voices in unison, the words blooming inside her head. Welcome.
‘Where am I?’ asked Maddy. ‘How did I get here?’
Your body is still at the castle, flesh joined to stone. Only your mind has travelled to speak with us in the Shadowlands of Tír na nÓg. Your body is no more than an illusion.
Without taking her eyes off the Coranied, Maddy reached out to touch a nearby stack of books. Her hand passed right through and she could feel nothing.
Why do you disturb us? Do you still seek death?
‘No, not any more,’ said Maddy.
Ah, your heart does not tell it so, child. Anger and hate still run through your veins and lies drip from your tongue like snake venom. Why lie, when we can so easily give you what you want?
‘I don’t want it,’ said Maddy. ‘I’m not that girl any more.’
You will always be that child. Always. The Coranied tipped their heads to one side and then the other in a mechanical gesture. The raven fluttered on its perch and cawed. The hissing voices continued. Then if not for death, why come you? What does your head desire you to seek that it ignores the cries of your heart?
‘An answer,’ said Maddy.
To what?
‘A question,’ said Maddy. ‘Someone has attacked the unicorn mare …’
We know, said the Coranied with an impatient twitch of twelve pairs of shoulders. The whole world knows and hides its face in horror.
‘Who did it?’ asked Maddy.
That we do not know. It is hidden from us.
‘Was it a faerie or a human?’
It is a thing that is neither one nor the other but with stripes of both.
‘Superb,’ muttered Maddy. Louder she asked, ‘Can it be caught?’
The laughter that limped around the room sounded as dry and dusty as a corpse’s cough. That is not your question, Feral Child.
‘What is my question?’
WHO must track it, WHO must bring it to bay? And is that ‘who’ you?
Maddy ground her teeth. ‘I know the answer to that question,’ she said. ‘It’s not going to be me. Not this time. I’ve done enough.’
There is no such thing as enough. It will be you, whether that pleases you or no.
‘Why?’ asked Maddy, her angry tone ringing against the stone. ‘Because of fate? Destiny? I don’t believe in that!’
Nor do we.
‘Then why?’
Balance. We live for order and peace. You bring balance between the mortal world and Tír na nÓg. The Morrighan charges us to maintain balance so that the Land never changes and her people are always safe. Some seek to disturb that balance. By your very nature, you are the counterpoint.
‘Why me?’
When their need is great, your people have a Hound that watches them in the night and guards against the Tuatha. Once there was a Hound in Ireland so fierce he dared to bark at Meabh and bar her way, when she craved a bull so pure and white she would have soaked the ground with the blood of men to have it. You are the new Hound. As we say, it is your nature. What kind of Hound you will be remains to be seen.
‘I won’t do this!’ said Maddy.
You will. It is your nature. Nor will you be alone. There is one who lives in Tír na nÓg who can help you. See … The Coranied stepped to one side and raised cloaked arms to point at a cauldron.
Maddy walked over and gazed down at the water that bubbled away inside it. As she looked at it, the water smoothed to soft ripples. An image began to form just beneath the surface, of a man with long shaggy black hair, dressed in blue plaid. His hair was plastered to his head with water and a massive sword was gripped in his hand. He was staring ahead of him, his face heavily lined by grief and anger. By his side sat a huge Irish wolfhound, its coat so wet with rain it seemed to drag its shoulders down. It turned its head to look at Maddy and its eyes were human, blue and sad. But the water began to bubble again and the image shattered and dissolved in front of her.
‘Who was that?’ she asked.
That is Finn mac Cumhaill, the greatest hero Ireland has ever known. A man whose legend is so powerful it has taken on a life of its own and he lives now in the Shadowlands with his Fianna, his tribe. A powerful man still and a dangerous enemy.
Bodiless or not, Maddy felt giddy with relief. ‘Even I have heard of him. This is going to be easy! I can explain what is going on and he can find the unicorn hunter.’
It is not mac Cumhaill who will help you, but the wolfhound at his side, Bran. She is the gentle huntress, the only animal that will bring the hunter to bay and allow you to take it alive. Bran always brings her prey back alive. You must persuade mac Cumhaill to lend her to you.
‘Would it not be easier all round to get Finn mac Cumhaill to find this hunter?’
Mac Cumhaill turned his back on the mortal realm long ago. He cannot walk above the mound. The hunter could hide from him too easily.
‘All right then, how am I supposed to get him to hand over Bran?’
It is your task to find out. We can help you no more.
‘Great.’ Maddy sighed. ‘Have you shown me all that you can See?’
We have shown you all we think you should see.
Maddy looked at the cauldrons that bubbled with hopes, dreams, nightmares and everything that could lurk in the corners of a human soul.
‘The Tuatha are threatening war with humans over this,’ said Maddy. ‘Can I balance things out enough to stop it? Can you see if the war will happen? Will famine come again?’
You have as many futures as you have choices, Feral Child. And your choices will tip the scales between war and peace, famine and plenty.
‘So what choices should I make?’
No one can dictate your conscience. You are a free creature, but we can see a day coming where you will need to decide where your loyalties lie.
‘What do you mean?’ said Maddy.
You have the future of two worlds resting in your hands. Who knows how each decision you make will reverberate through the lives of millions?
Exhaustion swept over Maddy’s mind. It had been a long day and she really wasn’t ready to be responsible for a hamster, never mind millions of people. ‘I can’t do
this,’ she whispered.
You must.
‘Send me home, please,’ said Maddy. ‘I need to rest.’
As you wish, Feral Child, said the Coranied.
‘I wish everyone would stop calling me that,’ she muttered, as a grey mist obscured the tower room and the Coranied, leaving her in a swirling no-man’s-land.
Chuckling drifted around her in the fog, a low evil laugh.
What shall we call you instead? What will please your ears? Walking curse? The doom of Tír na nÓg?
‘Who are you?’ called Maddy.
You mean what am I?
‘You’re the Stone, aren’t you?’ said Maddy. ‘What do you want?’
What do I want? I am merely a humble servant of the Coranied, the stone sentinel of Tír na nÓg. I have no wants, no needs, no desires.
‘Are you passing judgement on me?’
Done. You are the new Hound. What the Coranied See and speak, I also See and hear.
‘Then let me pass,’ said Maddy. ‘Unless the Coranied have told you to keep me here.’
That whispering laugh sounded in her ears again. Tarry a while, Feral Child. For I also See far and wide and I can speak prophecy too. I am no inert tool, cold and dead when not in its master’s hands.
‘I’ve had a prophecy,’ said Maddy. ‘One’s enough, so let me back into my body.’ The mist boiled around her as the Stone hissed in anger. A grinding pain started in the wrist of the hand that was trapped in the mortal world. Maddy gripped it and moaned with pain. She looked at her hand in shock. How could the Stone inflict pain on a body that didn’t exist? It’s all in my head, she thought. Don’t think about it and it can’t hurt.
It seems the Hound is an arrogant puppy, who would go from me and not ask my wisdom, said the Stone. For such things have I Seen. You would be wise to know your future, Feral Child.
The bones in Maddy’s hand ground together as if stone teeth were chewing on them. Maddy screamed in pain. It was no use, she couldn’t think it away. ‘What are you doing?’ she yelled. ‘Let me go!’
Listen first and know your future. I see fear advance before you and blood bubble through the ground where your feet touch. All who know you will be laid low by grief and pain. Fire and flood will be your companions. War is your new mother and she will kiss you with cold, cold lips. This is your future, Hound, as it was the future of every Hound before you. Men may sing of your deeds when you are long dead, but they will curse you while you live!
Maddy hugged herself as the agony flamed up her arm, setting nerves and tendons alight. She closed her eyes and screamed as the world went black again.
The next thing she knew she was back on the top of the dark, cold castle and she scrambled away from hands outstretched to help her out, clutching her own tortured hand to her chest. She backed up until she was crouching against the iron railings, her clothes clinging to her back in a cold sweat, with no thought of the drop behind her. She shivered and spread her fingers out and stared.
They were perfect, unharmed. She turned her hand over, searching for bruising, blood, any mark that had been left by the pain the Stone had inflicted on her. There was nothing and the pain was gone. It had all been in her mind.
She looked up at the white, set faces that surrounded her and almost spat with rage. ‘You wanted me to put my face against that thing!’ she said to Seamus, as he looked down at her with an unreadable expression. ‘It made me feel like it was chewing on my hand! Did you know it was going to do that?’
No one answered her. She looked from face to face. ‘What?’
‘Maddy …’ began Dr Malloy. He choked on his words and stumbled to a halt before starting again. ‘We heard, we all heard …’
‘What? Me screaming my head off?’
‘No, not that,’ said Dr Malloy. ‘We heard …’
‘We heard the Stone’s judgement,’ interrupted Seamus, and the other faeries nodded in agreement. ‘Its words poured out of your mouth when you were joined with it. It declared you the new Hound.’
Maddy looked back at Seamus. ‘Did it now? That’s news to me,’ she said.
‘Don’t you lie, Maddy, we all heard it,’ growled Seamus. ‘You are the new Hound and it is your task to find the creature who attacked the unicorn mare.’
Maddy looked at Granda who stared at his boots, the picture of misery.
‘I don’t remember any of this,’ she said.
‘You can’t deny it,’ said Connor. ‘The Stone spoke through your lips.’
‘How do you know it was the Stone?’ said Maddy.
‘What?’ asked Connor, looking bewildered.
‘How do you know it was the Stone?’ repeated Maddy. ‘I was in so much pain I could have been yelling in Arabic for all I know.’
‘Of course it was the Stone!’ said Seamus, his voice rising in irritation.
‘Prove it,’ she said, climbing to her feet and dusting her hands off on her jeans.
‘What?’ yelled Seamus, looking so angry she thought his head was going to explode.
‘Go on, prove it,’ said Maddy, folding her arms across her chest. ‘Prove it was the Stone and everything it was saying was true and I’m the new hound, rabbit, whatever, and that it’s my job to sort out this mess with the unicorn.’
The mortal men and the faeries alike stared back at her as she looked from face to face, a mixture of anger, frustration and, in the case of Granda and Dr Malloy, fear, chasing across their faces.
‘You can’t, can you?’ said Maddy cheerfully.
‘Faeries cannot lie!’ said Connor.
‘That doesn’t mean you know what the truth is in the first place, does it?’ asked Maddy, glaring back at him. ‘Until you lot can prove you know what you are talking about with this hound rubbish, you can find someone else to do your legwork for you and take all the risks. Someone taller, older – you know, a grown-up. And until you can do that, I’m going home.’ She turned and strode off toward the stairwell, Granda and Dr Malloy following closely behind.
CHAPTER EIGHT
They managed to walk through the Tuatha camps and the castle grounds with no one trying to stop them or harm them. Seamus and the faeries representing the courts made no attempt to follow them. As far as Maddy could tell, they stayed up on the battlements after Maddy, Granda and Dr Malloy had left. Probably too busy discussing a problem none of them had ever encountered before. Maddy would bet money no one had ever asked a faerie to prove they were telling the truth. Everyone just took it as gospel that they did and that they never got things wrong.
Still, her skin crawled as they walked through the Tuatha camp. Most of the faeries were feasting, drinking and capering about to their wild music, but a few stopped and stared after them with frowns marring their beautiful faces. She waited for a shout to go up behind them telling them to stop, and for a long, triple-jointed hand to clamp down on her neck, but it seemed that the faeries were content to let them go if Seamus had. But that did not stop cold sweat from trickling down her back or her legs feeling shaky and hollow with fear. Her eyes strained to achieve the impossible and look behind her without her turning her head or snapping the ligaments that held her eyeballs in their sockets. As the tension grew too much for her, she began to turn ever so slightly, but Granda saw her and grabbed her elbow.
‘Don’t look back,’ he hissed through clenched teeth. ‘Don’t give them any reason to follow us or stop us.’
So she stumbled on between the two men, their breathing harsh in the blackness of the night that cloaked the grounds. She almost cried with relief when they finally reached the car park and its street lights. But as they turned to face each other and she saw the expression on Dr Malloy’s face, she shrank back into her jacket. He looked frightened and just a little bit angry, like Maddy was a bomb waiting to go off.
‘Do you know what you have done, girl?’ he said, keeping his voice low. ‘You can’t trick the Tuatha and get away with it!’
‘Leave her alone,’ Granda warned.
‘You heard what she was saying when she was connected to the Stone – we all did!’ said Dr Malloy. ‘We can’t shelter her – the Tuatha will come for her sooner or later.’
‘Thanks to Maddy’s trick it will be later, and that buys us time to think,’ said Granda.
‘Time to think about what?!’ Dr Malloy struggled to keep his voice down, but his face was reddening with rage. ‘She can’t get away from them, and you can’t keep her!’
Granda’s face turned a red to match Dr Malloy’s and he opened his mouth to answer back, when a tiny snowflake fluttered lazily down between them and came to rest on the toe of his boot. The three of them stared at it, as it melted on the black leather. Maddy looked up but only drizzle drifted down to coat her skin.
The fury drained out of Dr Malloy’s face. ‘It’s started.’
‘Nothing has started,’ snapped Granda. ‘You heard Meabh – she can cure the mare, given enough time.’
‘Can she stop her from being killed though?’ said Dr Malloy. ‘Because apparently they need your granddaughter to do that. I have family of my own, Bat – I’ll not see them die so you can keep one child. You have plenty of other grandchildren.’
Maddy gasped at his callousness. Granda stared hard at the doctor, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he ground his teeth. Dr Malloy stood his ground but his eyes began to dart about. He had the expression of a man who knew he had gone too far.
‘Go home, now,’ said Granda. ‘We’ll talk later.’
‘That we will,’ said Dr Malloy. ‘And don’t think I won’t be telling the other Sighted about tonight,’ he said over his shoulder as he scuttled away.
Granda stood next to Maddy and carried on grinding his teeth, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He eyes roved over the village and Maddy knew she should just give him time to calm down. But it was cold and the tips of her fingers and toes were beginning to ache.
‘Granda?’ she asked in a small voice.
‘What, love?’ he said, his eyes still staring into the distance.
‘Can I have fish and chips?’