“Zane, please tell her I understand what I have to do, and if she wouldn’t mind I’d like to have some quiet and concentrate for a bit. And tell her I love her. Oh, and I’m very, very sorry,” I relayed to Zane.
He pointed at me and raised his brows. “You’re nuts if you think I’m leaving you alone ever again.” Finishing his statement with a huff he turned to my aunt to relay my message. “Lucie, Cat says she understands and she would like for you to give her some space to concentrate. Oh, and she loves you and is very, very sorry.”
She nodded, letting her shoulders sag. “I’ll leave you to it, then. If you need help, please call for me.” She turned swiftly and walked out the door.
Zane made himself comfortable on my bed, and I went to hover over my “thinking” chair. It was still strange knowing I couldn’t sit. After a few moments, I closed my eyes because simply trying to ignore his eyes boring holes into my head wasn’t working.
I began by concentrating very hard and trying to see myself. After catching faint glimpses, but nothing solid, I decided to switch gears and see if I could feel a pull in one direction or another. No luck. Frustrated and completely out of my depth, I let my mind wander, hoping at some point I would get something I could act on.
I waited there for three hours—I had paid attention to the clock this time—letting my thoughts go where they wanted. Then finally I hit pay dirt. A smoky vision started to form in my head. I could see what looked like the outside of a cave, or possibly a man-made earth house dug into the side of a hill. Pulling back, I noticed how green everything was and out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move. When I focused my mind in that direction, I saw a creature of some kind going into the house/cave and followed it. The creature was talking to itself. Though I couldn’t hear what he was saying, he didn’t look very happy. Walking through cramped, mazelike corridors he finally stopped and opened a door. It was then I noticed he was carrying a tray with food, which he sat down on a small table. A girl with long hair came and greeted him, smiling broadly and mouthing what looked like thank you. She proceeded to point to the corner of the room where there was a bed with a sizable lump in the center, saying something else that I couldn’t make out. As the creature walked over to it, carrying a glass from the tray, I was able to focus on the mound under the covers. Dark hair, pale skin—and as he moved hair behind the person’s shoulder—I was faced with myself. I looked dead but could see the faint rise and fall of my chest. It was alarming.
I pulled back in alarm and my mind floated out of the dwelling. I continued to float away; stopping briefly when I spotted a small sign near the edge of a clearing marked with what I assumed was a town name. Bohernabreena. It wasn’t familiar; rather it looked like it belonged in another country all together. Slowly, so as if to memorize everything I was passing, I made my way to water. With painstaking slowness, I continued to pull back over every inch of water and land between where my body lay and where my spirit sat, to determine how to save myself.
My first thought, again on instinct was that I was in Ireland. The landscape was different enough that I knew I wasn’t in the States. The amount of water I passed over was my first clue. The homes and all the small things like rock fences and thatched roofs were another clue. Just to be sure I concentrated again, beginning in the dwelling, repeating my retreat over land and water until I made it to the little house in Council Grove, and sure enough, I came to the same conclusion. My body lay half a continent and an ocean away in the land of my ancestors.
Bringing myself back to the space I was occupying, I looked over and found that my fearless protector had fallen asleep. Of course I had been silent and busy for the better part of four hours so it was understandable.
“Zane! I know where I am. I hope you like long flights.” I yelled, trying to wake him. His initial response was to snort and roll over onto his side where his soft snore began anew. I yelled again, to no avail before deciding my best option was to pass through him like I had earlier. This time he sat up, his back rigid and his breathing labored.
“Wha’? Long flights?” Shivering slightly, he began rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Blearily he looked at me and raised his brows. “You found yourself.” His declaration was nothing but a sigh as a sleepy smile formed on his face and his posture softened.
“I’m in Ireland. Let’s go tell Aunt Lucie and then we need to get going. I don’t think I’m in any immediate danger, but my visions lack sound so I can’t be sure.”
I floated along beside him as he rushed around telling Aunt Lucie where we were going, booking his airfare and gathering his things. Feeling helpless did nothing for my disposition, and I felt myself getting more upset with each passing moment.
By the time we were in the car and on the road, I was close to having an emotional breakdown but was trying fiercely to contain it. The last thing my Caomhnóir needed right now was a weepy teenage spirit, especially with a long flight in our future. The road trip to the airport in Kansas City would take us a good two hours and that was if we ignored the speed limit.
Reaching for something to occupy my mind, I began daydreaming about my childhood. The long summer days, playing with Will and my brothers, digging into the hard Kansas soil... Recalling all the good times made me miss my parents, friends, and even my brothers painfully.
Maybe music is what I need.
“Zane, would you mind turning on the radio? I need something to occupy my thoughts.”
“No problem.” He turned on the radio. “I should mention that I bought an extra seat on the plane so you would have a place to sit. I just told them I have a phobia of germs and they allowed it. I didn’t think having you on my lap, even like this, would be a great idea.” He waved a hand at my hazy form.
“Thanks. I could’ve just hung out in the overhead compartments if I needed to,” I joked.
The remainder of the drive was spent listening to music, which didn’t divert my thoughts as much as I had hoped. I didn’t have any more to say, and I think Zane was aware of the fragile state I was in, so he didn’t try to start a conversation.
Over the blare of the music, I thought about how odd it was that I was more drawn to him in this form than when I was in my body. Perhaps I just couldn’t control it as well like this. I didn’t really care, I supposed. His presence made me feel safe and that counted for a lot right now, what with my actual body holed up in some earthy dwelling thousands of miles away.
When we arrived at the airport, our flight was still a good two hours from departure. We would have to suffer through a lengthy wait, which didn’t amuse either of us. Unfortunately, the gate we were in was crowded so there was no way for Zane and I to talk outloud or through our thoughts. All the noise made forming thoughts nearly impossible in my emotional state but I needed to talk to him before I collapsed in a misty cloud of blubbering apparition right in the middle of the airport.
Pull yourself together, girl!
“Zane? Uh, could you maybe follow me to the bathroom? I need to talk to you.” My words were whispered, not that they needed to be because he was the only one that could hear me.
“Make sure you go to the men’s room, okay?”
My jaw dropped before my nose scrunched up in disgust. “Ewwwww, that just gross. If we’re going in there then you’re checking to make sure no one else is in there before I walk through the door.”
He shook his head, smiling, and rubbed his eyes as he stood. I followed close behind him until he made it to the bathroom and waited for a small whistle before going in.
Once inside the quiet solitude of the men’s room, I broke down.
“Catherine, I know this is difficult, but you have to pull yourself together. We will get you out of this mess and back home. I promise! Just do what I tell you and don’t go trying to prove anything, okay?” he directed.
“O... K...” I stuttered, weeping. Th
e lack of tears was more than frustrating at this point, only fueling my sobs.
“I will not let anything happen to you. You mean too much to m—to your family, and I made your father a promise when we were first paired,” he whispered as he ushered me back toward our seats.
Did he start to say “me?” Surely I’m hearing things.
“I will follow all your orders to the ‘T!’ ” I assured him.
The first flight stopped in Chicago and it was bearable. The second flight, the one to Ireland, was altogether different. I, of course, was fine. I was nothing but vapor. Zane, on the other hand, was anything but fine. He fidgeted and grumbled the first few hours we were airborne. After a few whiskeys, he settled down and actually closed his eyes to sleep.
So, it seems my Caomhnóir is afraid to fly?
As I had nothing better to do I watched him sleep. I wondered what his dreams were about or if he remembered them at all. He seemed so peaceful there with his eyes closed and his mouth partially open. Every once in a while, a soft snore escaped his mouth and that one little sound made me tingly.
I decided to analyze my reactions to this mysterious man, my Caomhnóir. Anytime he was near, I had a very strong reaction, whether it was good or bad it was always powerful. If he touched me, my skin would warm and then I would get goose bumps, even if that touch wasn’t meant to do anything but make me follow him. Anytime I found myself in trouble, I longed for him and only him, even though I resented that compulsion. I dreamed about his face and never felt safe unless he was near me.
I suppose this could be considered an infatuation, but our connection was so intense that it seemed unlikely to be some passing crush. Love was out of the question; I didn’t even like him half the time.
Whatever it was I knew I couldn’t discuss it with him now or ever. We had made a deal to keep things platonic not long ago, and I wouldn’t break my end of it. What was the point? It was a road that surely led to heartache and discontent. The fact was that I was stuck with this guy for the rest of my natural life. It wouldn’t do to go screwing with fate any more than I already had.
Fate: a word that I had become all too familiar with over the last year. My fate, Zane’s fate, the fate of every Tourist I had helped or would help in the future. Fate had now brought me to the land of my ancestors to reclaim my stolen body. It had also supplied me with a Guardian so connected to me that I could only accomplish this task with him by my side. Did fate have anything to do with the multitude of feelings rushing through me regarding that same man? According to my aunt and the ancient book residing in my parents’ home the answer should be no, but if it isn’t fate that draws me to him like a magnet, then what is it? Fate had determined that I would not marry, nor have children, and falling in love was something I should avoid, given the previously stated facts. Why then did fate throw Zane at me? Is this all a test?
Damn Fate!
Once away from the airport we searched for a place to gather ourselves, finally settling on a room in the trendy Morrison Hotel in the heart of Dublin City Centre. With the closing click of the heavy door, Zane collapsed on the bed with a soft thud, snoring almost immediately. It seemed odd that he would still be tired given his amount of sleep on the plane until I thought long and hard about the amount of alcohol it had taken to pull him under while we were in flight. It didn’t matter either way because with him asleep I could get on with my tireless pacing and fretting without worrying about making my companion cranky, dizzy, or both.
Letting my shadow-self hover over the overstuffed chair at the desk, I began pushing my mind out. Visions of the same small dwelling appeared in my thoughts. Pulling back, as I had at home, I took note of the road signs, houses that stood out, farms, and any kind of physical marker that could help guide us in the morning. Remembering the map Zane purchased earlier and spread out in the taxi on the way to the hotel, I noted the roads we needed to follow so that I could have him pen them in black, making a special mental note of the area we would end up.
With a sigh I resigned myself to wait for the dawn and the eventual waking of my sleeping Guardian. I didn’t need sleep as a ghost, and even if I did I might not be able to sleep given how helpless I felt.
The first light of day brought butterflies to my stomach, or what would be my stomach if I were in my body. Zane woke up quietly and stretched. “Morning, Cat.”
I put on my best Irish accent and hovered by the bed. “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya! Did you sleep well?”
His laugh sent my see through toes curling and my lips pulled up into a small smile. “I did, thank you. I haven’t slept that soundly in a long time.”
Nodding, I looked him over. His hair was flat on one side and sticking out on the other in a mass of tangled curls. He had dried spittle in the corner of his mouth and his clothes were in complete crumpled disarray. Even with all those imperfections, I still found him to be one of the most attractive men I’d ever seen and that was a sobering thought. Either I needed to see more men in my young life, or I needed to start admitting that all logical thought had been pushed overboard by the crazy train scheduled to visit the town of Zane-ville. “Must have been the pre-boarding, in-flight, and post boarding drinks you had.” I grinned and giggled.
“Oh, so you’re a comedian this morning, huh?” His small chuckle and very big stretch that just happened to expose a little bit of his very toned stomach, made my breath catch. “I’m going to go get showered and changed so we can head out, okay?”
My power of speech hadn’t returned, so I simply nodded and watched him walk into the bathroom. Having nothing to prepare myself for, I floated about the room. When he was showered and dressed, he rejoined me in the room and began gathering the things he assumed we’d need.
“How do you plan on defending yourself?” I asked.
“Since we had to fly I couldn’t bring any weapons, so we’ll see what we can purchase before we set out and if that fails to provide us with something adequate, then my sheer brute strength will have to suffice.” The corners of his mouth moved to form a smirk but the dim light in his eyes betrayed his sarcasm. The man I had thought unflappable was clearly scared.
“I have no witty response this morning, but if you will take a bit of advice, I’ll offer it.”
“Shoot. Nothing can hurt at this point.”
“Keep your mind clear and rely on your faith... your faith in me, in yourself, in our mission. This may not be a test of physical strength.”
“Who are you? Yoda?” He quipped, and then as soon as he looked at my hazy form, he seemed regretful. “Sorry, Cat, I know you are trying to help. I appreciate the advice. Now, I have some to offer you. As soon as we find your body, you are to put yourself together and get the hell out of there... no stopping, even if you can’t find me. I want you to run as fast as you can. Understood?”
“Understood. Zane?” I hung my head so that he couldn’t see the desperation in my eyes. The thought of losing him was causing me immeasurable grief, and I figured that it was because I was beginning to feel things for him that I shouldn’t.
“Yes.”
“I’m scared, too.”
His eyes pierced through my soul and fanned the flames of longing inside me. How I longed to know what was behind that tortured look of his and soothe away the lines of fear and sorrow on his face. The minutes melted together until he broke the connection and finished his packing. “We’ll make it home safe, Cat. I promise.” He stacked his things by the door. “Your aunt contacted a car rental place here to have a car dropped off for us. I need to go down to the front desk and make sure it’s been delivered and get something to eat before we go.” I nodded, watching him walk out the door before returning to my aimless floating.
Zane’s heavy feet shuffled out the door, down the hall, and outside to the rental car. Once inside the confines of our rented Opel Corsa, he let out a loud huff, straig
htened his back, and squared his shoulders, focusing all his energy on the road. Given his height and the broadness of his shoulders it was actually a comical sight in the rather tight quarters of the compact car.
Our first stop would be a camping supply store to get a tent and a few things to make Zane more comfortable overnight. We knew we wouldn’t arrive early enough to go searching for, well my body, until the morning, which left us both frustrated. Our next stop would be a place that carried weapons. I asked him what types of weapons he would need, and he shrugged and said whatever he could find. He’d been trained in hand-to-hand combat, various forms of martial arts, and how to handle small artillery. To say that I was impressed and felt exponentially safer was an understatement, though I still wasn’t convinced it would matter if we were up against the actual Badbeh.
Finding camping gear was easy but finding weapons was not. Shop after shop met his request with suspicious stares and no help. Zane walked and I hovered, several times pointing a certain way, silently asking him to follow with the knowledge that we would find what we were looking for if we just kept going in that direction. Finally, at the second-to-last store we had on our list, we met with success and that gnawing feeling of being pushed toward something ceased. It was a tiny antique store and smelled of moldy paper and earthy incense. Surveying the space, I realized we were surrounded by weapons, books, and various knickknacks, all pertaining to Irish folklore. The shopkeeper was an elderly woman with a soft age-worn face whose chocolaty eyes glimmered in the low light behind the desk. She looked Zane up and down before bestowing the most marvelous smile upon him and crooked her finger in his direction.
A Banshee's Tale Page 17