Dreamer (The Seeker Series Book 2)

by Amy Reece

  We found the jewelry shop, Thomas Dillon’s Claddagh Gold, on the corner of William Street and Quay Street and entered the bright yellow door set in the red-painted brick wall. We decided to look into the attached museum before shopping, thinking some background info might be a good idea. The museum had displays for many of the various legends of the Claddagh ring, but the one I liked the best was the story of Richard Joyce, who was captured by an Algerian corsair on his way to the West Indies and sold as a slave to a Moorish goldsmith. In 1689, when King William III of England demanded all the slaves be set free, the goldsmith tried to convince Richard to stay and marry his daughter. But Richard refused, determined to return to Galway to the girl he had left behind. He set up shop as a goldsmith and made her the first Claddagh ring. Now there’s romance for you. It should be made into a movie. Sigh. Well, I quickly discovered my true love would have to settle for sterling silver, rather than 18 carat or even rose gold. I did not have 500 or so euros to spare, no matter how much I loved him. I found a beautiful ring for about 60 euros, including the engraving ‘love, Ally.’ Apparently Cassie had more disposable income to throw around than I did because Gregory would be getting a gold ring. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts. I splurged and bought a matching one for myself, caught up in the romance of the whole thing. If Jack poo-pooed the idea of us wearing matching rings, well, I was screwed. Before I could freak myself out again, Cassie steered me out of the store and down the street to a charming teashop called The Secret Garden so we could warm up with afternoon tea and scones.

  I stayed up late that night so I could Skype Jack, calculating if it was 1:00 a.m. in Galway it would be 6:00 p.m. in Albuquerque and he would be home from work. I kept myself awake by reading more in the book I brought, A Ring of Endless Light, which turned out to be a story about a girl who was dealing with a lot of deaths in her life. Sounds depressing, I know, but it wasn’t. The girl was a little younger than me and found out she had the ability to communicate telepathically with dolphins, which was really cool. I wondered if I would be able to do that, what with my burgeoning psychic powers and all. Hmm, where could I find a dolphin to try it out on? Reading about the protagonist’s emotional journey was helping me think more clearly about what I had been through over the past few months. Anyway, it was turning out to be a pretty good book. I texted Jack to let him know to log on and then there he was—I missed his handsome face so much! I wish I could have the real thing, but this digital version was good in a pinch.

  “Hey, beautiful. What time is it there?” Jack asked.

  “It’s about 1:00 a.m. Jack, are you naked?” Darn this pixelation! I could make out an expanse of brown chest, but not much else.

  He laughed. “No. I have pants on. I’m not into naked Skyping. I just got out of the shower. Let me grab a shirt real quick.” He stepped away from his monitor.

  “Don’t get dressed on my account,” I called to him.

  I could hear him chuckling as he came back to the computer, pulling a white t-shirt over his head. “I’ll get naked as soon as you do, querida. Now let me look at you. How are you feeling? I still think it was too soon for you to hop on a plane overseas. Are you tired? Has Cassie let you get any rest? And why are you staying up so late to talk to me?”

  “Calm down, Jack. One thing at a time. I’m fine. Cassie let me sleep in late and we did some shopping this afternoon. I’m staying up late because I miss you like crazy.”

  “Yeah, I miss you too. This sucks.”

  “I completely agree.” We stared at each other for a minute, which seemed weirdly awkward on Skype, although we could spend lots of time together at home not talking.

  “You still look tired, babe,” he said with a worried look on his face.

  “Oh, I’m fine. I need to get used to sleeping here, that’s all. I miss my pillow.” I told him about the hotel and meeting the cute little old ladies this morning and how pretty all the Irish accents were. I didn’t tell him about the ring I had bought, since I wanted to keep it secret until his birthday later in January. I told him Cassie was taking me to get my hair fixed the next day. “Will you still love me if I come home with freaky hair?”

  “You know I will. I love your hair, but it doesn’t matter what you do with it. I would prefer, however, if you don’t mess with the color. At least we’ll still have that. And even if they mess it up, it will grow out, sweetheart. Don’t worry, okay? Please?”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s stupid. It’s only hair. It makes me mad.”

  “Believe me, I understand. That asshole Trevino better hope I never get a chance to be alone with him,” Jack fumed.

  “I can’t tell you how much I wish we were together right this second so I could wrap my arms around you and kiss you really, really good.”

  “Back at you. Go to bed, okay? I love you.”

  “Love you too. Bye.” I finished on a yawn, disconnected, and fell back on my pillow, pulling the comforter up as I went.

  ***

  December 26

  I had spent the last few days exploring Galway with Cassie. Caoimhe and Fionnuala even took us to see a few of the sights they especially recommended, including the Spanish Arch and the Lynch Window, where in 1493 the mayor of Galway hanged his own son for murdering a young Spanish man. Apparently the mayor’s son thought there was more to their friendship than just friendship—wink, wink—and stabbed him when the feelings were not reciprocated. Jeez, drama much? Find a new boyfriend and move on. Anyway, this is supposedly where the word ‘lynching’ originated. I was going to return to Albuquerque full of useless little tidbits like this. The ladies were wonderful tour guides; if you want to get the inside scoop on a new city, find some locals to hang around with. They took us to lunch at a friend’s house and we got to sample some real Irish cooking; no touristy stuff for us. Their friend’s name was Maire—pronounced Myra—another very sweet elderly lady, who prepared some very tasty little hand-held pies stuffed full of vegetables, a mashed potato dish with cabbage and leeks called colcannon, and a delicious lemon tart for dessert. I wondered how Maire knew I was a vegetarian. Maybe she was, too, and it was simply a happy coincidence.

  Cassie made good on her promise to take me to a salon to get my poor hair fixed. She found a high-end salon and treated me to a spa day, including a facial, mani-pedi, and haircut and style. I walked out of there polished, buffed, and with a lot less hair. I ended up with a short bob with a shorter, layered back—the stylist worked really hard to disguise the giant missing chunk—long front, and side-swept bangs.

  “Wow, Ally. You look…so sophisticated. I can’t believe how much older you look. Wow,” Cassie enthused. “Do you like it?”

  “I don’t know yet. I never planned to go this short.” I ran my hands through the short, short back. The stylist had been very careful around my stitches and you really couldn’t tell from the back there was a missing chunk—as long as I styled it correctly, which she had shown me. “I’ll have to get used to it. Like Jack said, it’s only hair and it will grow back.”

  “That’s the spirit. I bet he’s going to love it.”

  ***

  He did say he loved it on when I Skyped to thank him and Megan for the cheerleader charm to add to my bracelet. Megan had handed me the small package at the airport and made me promise not to open it until Christmas morning. Jack made me model my new haircut from all the different angles and said he could hardly wait to run his fingers through it, which made Megan giggle. She told me I looked like a grown-up, so I guess I could live with it. It’s not like I had much choice, anyway. Jack then sent Megan out of his room so we could talk privately. I could hear her singing, “Jack and Ally, sitting in a tree…” as she skipped out of the room.

  “I am so sorry about that,” Jack said, shaking his head.

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. You know I think she’s adorable.”

  “So, how are you doing? Really doing, querida? Are you nervous about the meeting tomorrow?”

  His sweet
concern did much to calm my nerves. “Yeah, I’m a little nervous, but I mostly want to get it all over with. I’m seriously ready to be with you, Jack, and not only see you onscreen.”

  “Right back at you, babe. I need to have you here in my arms. For now, I’m going to let you go and get some sleep. I love you, you know.”

  “I do know, but it’s good to hear. I love you too. Good night.”

  ***

  I had to get up early on the morning of the 26th because we were scheduled to meet with the council at 8 a.m. sharp. I was pretty nervous and had no idea what to expect. I realized I didn’t even know where we going to meet them. I was picturing a medieval castle and a huge, round table when Cassie began steering me toward the conference room right here in our hotel. I was sputtering my surprise when she stopped and turned me to face her.

  “Listen, Ally. I know this is probably going to make you angry, but please believe they had a really good reason for it.”

  “For what, Cassie?” I asked.

  Instead of answering, she opened the door of the conference room and ushered me inside.

  Sitting around a perfectly normal hotel conference table were Caoimhe, Fionnuala, Maire, and four other ladies cut from a very similar cloth. Seriously? Maybe I should have seen this coming, but apparently the stress of the last couple of weeks had dulled my normally suspicious nature.

  “Welcome, Ally,” Fionnuala began. “Please come in and have a seat so I can introduce the rest of the council.”

  “Gardening conference, huh?” I said a bit petulantly as I flopped down in the chair they indicated.

  The rest of the ladies chuckled, but Caoimhe actually had the grace to look somewhat penitent. “I’m sorry, dear, but we wanted a chance to meet you and get to know you a bit before we had you before the formal council. Forgive us, please. It was in your best interest.”

  Fionnuala completed the introductions. In addition to the three I had already met, there was Aine (Anya), Eithne (Enya)—which wouldn’t be confusing or anything—Bridget, and Iona. Today, as they were not masquerading as garden conference attendees, they were dressed in what I guess could be described as trendy business casual. They looked sharp and even somewhat funky. I was impressed, although I didn’t want to be since I was still a little pissed.

  Fionnuala appeared to be the leader or spokesperson for the council and called the meeting to order. “Council members, we have gathered today to begin the examination of a new Seer, Alethiea Grace Moran.”

  I raised my eyebrows in alarm at Cassie, who shook her head slightly.

  Caoimhe must have noticed, because she turned to me and said, “No, Ally. We don’t drag every new Seer to Ireland to stand, or sit really, before the council, but your grandmother and Cassie have reported your powers seem to be more powerful than usual.”

  “And you are developing more powers as time passes,” added Iona. I grudgingly appreciated the ladies were all wearing the ‘Hello My Name Is…’ name tags still, or I would never be able to keep them all straight. “That is very unusual. Most Seers manifest one simple power. Your case requires extra examination.”

  The first thing they asked me to do was give them a rundown of the events of the past few months, ever since my first vision showed up. So I rehashed the whole thing, starting from seeing Veronica was pregnant and getting beat up, to my weird future visions of Megan losing her tooth and of Veronica and myself covered in blood. I noticed them all shifting in their seats and looking nervously at each other when I told them about these visions. I also told them about how I was able to block a vision as it was happening, which I still felt guilty about. I ended my story by telling them what had happened in Coach Trevino’s office a little over a week ago. They all expressed horror and Caoimhe actually got up and came around the conference table to examine the stitches in the back of my head. I was touched when she smoothed my bangs back and kissed my forehead.

  “You poor child. It’s so much to bear, and at your young age. It’s a shame!” she exclaimed before returning to her seat.

  They produced a few miscellaneous items and asked me to touch them, like I had done for Cassie. I concentrated and was able to see in my mind where each item came from and to whom it belonged. For some reason, it seemed so much easier this time than when I had done it for Cassie.

  “Very well, my dear,” intoned Fionnuala. “We have much to discuss this afternoon. Cassie, bring her back here tomorrow morning at the same time. You may go now.”

  Well. We were clearly dismissed. Cassie and I gathered up our things and left to enjoy the rest of our day in Galway.

  ***

  December 27

  The next day the ladies wanted to see more of my ‘powers’, for lack of a better term. I certainly wasn’t comfortable referring to them as such, but whatever. It turned out Bridget was the one with the ability to touch me and see, like Cassie had done. The room was deathly quiet while Bridget held my hand, nodding and humming a little.

  “Yes, yes.” She set my hand back in my lap and patted it. “There is so much going on in your head.” She turned back to the council. “It’s as Cassie told us, sisters. She has remarkable powers, and I sense much more to come. It’s waiting in her mind, ready to spring forth!” she enthused.

  Aw, crap. I really, really didn’t want to hear that. I am seriously freaky enough, thanks anyway. More powers showing up were really going to cramp my style.

  “But could she be the one?” asked Iona.

  Wait, what?

  “That’s not at all clear yet, but she is the most promising Seer in many years. We will have to wait and see,” warned Fionnuala. “This will take a lot more time before we can be sure. She has barely turned 17. She has an entire year to finish developing her powers.”

  I was pretty close to losing it by now. What in the heck were they talking about?

  Caoihme noticed my distress. She seemed to be the one most attuned to my feelings. Perhaps it was part of her gift? “Sisters, it’s time to tell her. She needs to know.”

  “Yes, yes,” said Fionnuala. “Eithne, you tell the story better than any of us.” She nodded to one of the ladies I had yet to hear from.

  The thin lady wearing black leggings and a red tunic cleared her throat and began to speak. “The Celtic Seers trace their lineage back to the time of Oliver Cromwell and the Wars of the Three Kingdoms, when Cromwell and his forces landed in Ireland. Their brutality was legendary. Cromwell hated the Catholics and absolutely refused to tolerate anything he considered pagan, including the Druids. The Druids were the keepers of the ancient knowledge, the true intellectuals of the Celtic world. They refused to write anything down, so much of what they knew has been lost forever. A priestess, whose name has been long-since lost to history, escaped the siege of Galway in 1650 and found sanctuary with a local farm family. She was very beautiful and kind and she and the farmer’s son fell in love. They married and had several sons, although nobody remembers exactly how many. The priestess lived the rest of her life as a simple farmer’s wife, all her Druid knowledge and power apparently lost when she passed. But the couple had one daughter. She began to show astonishing mental powers when she reached young adulthood. Those powers were passed on to her daughters, who passed them on to their daughters. This continues to this very day, however weakened and diluted the powers have become. Every few generations, however, one daughter is born who has the powers of the original Druid priestess. We call this woman the Oracle. Our last Oracle was born 75 years ago.”

  “Who is she? What happened to her? Is she one of you?” I looked around at the elderly faces surrounding me.

  “No, dear. None of us are the Oracle. It is a very sad story, the saddest story we have experienced since the time of Cromwell. Fifty-five years ago, when our beloved Oracle was 20 years old, she was taken from us,” Aine responded.

  “How did she die?” I asked in a hushed voice.

  “Oh my dear, she didn’t die, at least not then. She was literally taken from us. S
he was stolen, kidnapped by the Gaulish Seers. We have never heard from her since, and all of our requests for her return have been ignored. We have no idea whether or not she still lives.”

  “What? Gaulish Seers? There are more of us out there? What does that mean? And how can they just steal our Oracle?” I was outraged.

  “So many questions.” Fionnuala shook her head. “Yes, dear Ally. There are more of us out there. Wherever there was a significant group of Druids, there appears to be some vestige left in the form of Seers, although not everyone calls them that. We used to have a tentative relationship with the Gaulish clan, but it ended when they stole our Oracle. We continue to send missives every few years requesting her return, but we have been ignored completely,” she ended with a disgusted sniff.

  “Well, why doesn’t someone go get her? You know, rescue her? Who are these Gaulish types, anyway?”

  “It’s not that simple, Ally. There is quite a rivalry between the two clans, made so much worse when they stole the Oracle. But maybe we can finally begin to recover now.”

  “Oh, how are we going to…” I let my words trail off as I noticed them all staring at me expectantly. “Wait, you don’t think I…I mean I couldn’t…” They stared at me, eyebrows raised, some of them nodding slightly. “Do you seriously think I should go rescue her?”