Muse

by Kylie Quillinan

  I sat at a table in a gloomy corner, far away from the windows and the brightness of the fire, and massaged my throbbing temples. Then suddenly I realised somebody sat across from me. Bitter comments welled on my tongue as I looked at Fiachra: about how long he had taken to arrive, how he should have warned me that all of my companions would desert me and I would fail. But I said nothing.

  "I told you this would be harder than you expected," Fiachra said.

  "You should have told me everything you knew. I could have been more prepared."

  "It is not my place to tell you what may or may not happen. I cannot foretell the future. The choices you make are your own decision."

  "I think you know more than you pretend to."

  He didn't respond.

  "What do I do now?" I asked.

  "What do you think you must do?"

  "Must you answer everything with a question? Why can't you tell me what to do?"

  Fiachra merely looked me in the eyes, his face as implacable as ever. "This is your quest, Diarmuid. Is it finished?"

  "How can I ever finish? I can't match her power. She is turning my friends against me, one by one."

  It wasn't until I said it that I realised I no longer blamed Owain. Ida had charmed him, like she charmed everyone else who carried out atrocious deeds at her instruction. Still, I didn't want to face him. I couldn't bear to look in his eyes and see my friend and know he had killed an innocent man.

  "Tell me about your journey," Fiachra said.

  The words began to spill from me and I told him everything. About finding Bramble and how we had almost died in the woods. Owain rescuing us. Finding Rhiwallon. The journey through the tunnels and the beast and the dragon. How I had tried and tried again to defeat Ida. How I had failed.

  "So you intend to give up," Fiachra said. There was no judgement in his tone but I squirmed at his words.

  "I'm not exactly giving up," I said. "But I have no other options. Ida is too powerful."

  "You have power of your own, Diarmuid."

  The tiniest flicker of hope flared. "My tales?"

  He looked at me and waited.

  "But how could telling a tale defeat her?"

  Still he said nothing.

  Slowly, awkwardly, my thoughts came together and I discovered I already knew the answer. "She came from inside of my head. Her strength, her power… it all came from my words. So perhaps I could defeat her with a tale, if I knew how they worked."

  It sounded ridiculous. Whatever power I might have, surely Ida was far stronger. And the one time I had deliberately tried to make a tale come true — in the fey tunnels — it didn't work. I picked at a splinter poking out of the table. It dug into my thumb and a bead of blood formed. I stared down at the blood with disinterest. The pain was nothing. It could be someone else's hand for all I felt.

  "Perhaps the aim is not to defeat her," Fiachra said. "Perhaps you need to mend the breach that is broken. Restore that which should not have been divided."

  "Do you mean I need to send her back into my head?" My stomach suddenly felt hollow and my chest tightened until I could barely breathe. "I can't. Even if I could somehow get her back in there, I can't live like that. Knowing she's in there. Knowing she's watching everything I do, listening to everything I think."

  "You've lived like that for years already, Diarmuid."

  "But that was different."

  "How?"

  "I didn't know she was there. I didn't know she was alive."

  "Why does that matter?"

  "I don't want to live like that."

  "Ida is your responsibility," Fiachra said evenly. He rested his arms on the table, looking completely at ease.

  "But how would I even do it? Do I tell a tale about a muse who comes to life and is returned to the bard's head?"

  Fiachra shrugged.

  "Can I wait until tomorrow?" I asked. "I can't go back yet. I need… time. To prepare."

  "Time for more people to die?"

  "You didn't see what happened yesterday. It was awful. Davin didn't even raise a hand to stop him. He just stood there."

  "Remember, Diarmuid, this is what she does. She charms folk into doing what she wants, and they have no choice but to obey."

  "Surely they could resist. Surely there was a part of Owain's mind that was still his own. He could have stopped if he wanted to."

  "Have you asked him?"

  My cheeks burned. "No, I haven't spoken to him. Not since… Not since we argued."

  "Owain is your friend, Diarmuid. He acted on Ida's will. This is her fault, not his."

  "I can't risk taking him with me again. What if she orders him to kill me? Would he do it?"

  "Perhaps. It seems to me that the people she charms have no control over their actions."

  "Will you come with me? Surely she couldn't charm you."

  "I cannot interfere. I can only advise, and only because you asked me to. What you choose to do, and how you do it, are your decision alone."

  "You would leave me to go to my death rather than interfere?"

  He looked at me evenly but didn't answer.

  "So I'm on my own," I said, bitterly. "All of my companions have deserted me and I'm left to face Ida alone."

  There was a huff from the floor and Bramble glared up at me. I hadn't even realised she was there. As I met her gaze, the tightness in my chest eased a little.

  She huffed again, then looked to Fiachra. He met her gaze and they stared at each other silently for the longest time. Eventually, he nodded.

  "Your task has been great, little one, but it's almost at the end. You need to be strong a little longer."

  Bramble dipped her head, as if in thanks.

  "I guess we should go then." I felt like I had been excluded from a private conversation. "Might as well get this over with."

  "Eat first," Fiachra said. "This is the day you either complete your quest or fail entirely."

  I suddenly realised I was famished. The innkeeper brought new bread and steaming bowls of porridge. I set a bowl on the floor for Bramble and then ate with gusto.

  Fiachra didn't speak again until I had eaten my fill. "I can teach you how to deal with Ida once she is back inside your head. It will be different this time, for now she knows what it is to be alive. She will resist, and you must be prepared."

  "But once she is back in my head, she won't be able to resist any more, will she?" Fear clenched my stomach and already I regretted having eaten.

  "She has power now that she didn't have before. She may continue to fight and you need to learn how to fight back. Now, close your eyes. Picture a box. Can you see it? It need only be small but you must see it clearly."

  I concentrated on the blackness inside my mind and, slowly, a wooden box formed. I focused, ensuring all of its edges and corners were clearly defined.

  "I see it."

  "Good, hold the box there. You need to be able to see it, even when you open your eyes. This is where you will put Ida. As soon as you see her in your mind, open the box and push her inside."

  "How do I push her?"

  "With the force of your mind. It may help to exhale, quickly and strongly, at the same time. Push her into the box and replace the lid. Then you must hold the lid in place."

  "How long do I hold it?" I looked into his dark eyes and he stared back at me, waiting for me to find the answer for myself. "For ever. I will always have to hold down the lid so she can't escape."

  "It will be hard at first but, after a while, you will hardly need to think about it."

  "What will happen if she gets out of the box?"

  "I can't answer that. She may have the power to influence what you say and do. She might even be strong enough to take over your body. To make it hers."

  "Could she force me into the box?"

  "Perhaps."

  I realised I was holding my breath and slowly let it out. I had always known I might not survive my quest but I had never anticipated living with Ida in control o
f my body, watching helpless and trapped while she carried out her terrible deeds.

  "I don't think I can do this."

  "This is your decision, Diarmuid, and yours alone. I cannot tell you what you must do. I can only advise you to listen to your heart. What does it say?"

  I didn't want to answer but he waited patiently, his face calm and his hands relaxed.

  "I have no choice," I said at length. "She is my fault."

  "Be strong, Diarmuid. As soon as Ida is back inside your head, you must get her into the box. She will be confused and disorientated for a few seconds and that is your chance. Once she regains her senses, she will fight you."

  "I guess I should go then."

  Bramble immediately stood. I looked down at her, a scruffy terrier not even as high as my knees. "Are you sure you want to come with me? It will be dangerous."

  She glared but didn't deign to huff.

  "I know you want to help, but I… I might not be coming back again. I can't promise to look after you."

  She stalked over to the door and waited. Somehow, the knowledge that I wouldn't be alone eased my fear the tiniest bit, even if my sole companion was a small terrier who may or may not turn out to be one of the fey.

  49

  Diarmuid

  SOON BRAMBLE AND I stood yet again on the doorstep of Ida's stone cottage. I carried no weapon except for the dagger in my boot, yet I felt strangely calm. I looked up at the bright blue sky. A single cloud drifted lazily. This might be my last view of the sky. I took a deep breath, letting the cool air fill my lungs. Perhaps my last taste of the air outside of Ida's house. This was it. I would find a way to force Ida into the box, or die trying. I had my tales and, if that failed, I had my dagger. I would not live with her controlling my body. I would kill myself first.

  I knew better than to ask Bramble again whether she was sure she wanted to accompany me but there was something else I needed to say. I crouched down beside her.

  "Thank you." I stretched out a hand to stroke ever so gently the silky hair on her chest. I wanted to touch the torn ear and run my fingers over the red scar on her shoulder and flank, but I didn't. Hair was already growing over the wounds and in a few weeks they would no longer be visible, except for the damage to her ear. "You've been a good friend to me. I had hoped you might come back to Silver Downs once this is all over. But if something happens to me in there, get out straight away. Go and find Owain. He'll look after you if I can't."

  She blinked at me, just once.

  "I know you understand me, even if I don't know what sort of creature you are."

  Bramble extended a paw and touched me gently on the cheek.

  "I hope I get a chance to find out who you really are."

  She looked towards the door.

  "You're right. Let's get this over with."

  I stood, wincing slightly at the pressure on my injured ankle. The door had been mended since Owain broke it down and it didn't resist us this time. The hallway was dim and silent, a memory of days spent in a fey tunnel. Nothing existed outside of this moment, just Bramble and I walking along the dimly-lit hallway, past a rack of coats and scarves. Past a pair of men's boots standing tidily against the wall. Past closed doors that led to other rooms. Lonely accoutrements of someone else's life. I took a deep breath. The house smelled of herbs and furniture wax and fresh bread.

  I could feel Ida. She was in the back room where we had found her on our first visit. I had feared she might be in the kitchen with Davin's body still lying there, his blood staining the wooden floor, his limbs stiff and eyes blank.

  Doubt started as a quiver in my stomach. I hesitated and Bramble looked up at me, a question in her eyes.

  "Perhaps I shouldn't do this," I said. "She's happy here. Free." I turned back towards the front door. "She won't hurt anyone else if I leave her alone. She just wants to live, in a real body, in the real world."

  My feet already carried me back through the doorway. "It was a mistake to come here. I see now that things aren't as bad as I thought."

  Bramble barked once, short and sharp, and Ida's influence drained away. Anger and shame warred within me. Anger that she would try again to control me and shame that I had allowed it so easily. This was what it felt like to be one of her victims. I hadn't even recognised what she was doing. Her thoughts had seemed as natural as if they were my own.

  I clenched my fists and strode back down the hallway, Bramble at my side. I would not let Ida send me away. This would be our final confrontation. The culmination of my quest. One way or another, this meeting between us today would decide both of our futures.

  Ida sat in the back room, in the same wooden chair as on our first visit. She wore a plain white dress, the skirt covered with a white apron. She looked innocent. Harmless.

  I caught myself this time before the thoughts could control me. Now that I knew she sought to influence me, it was easier to recognise when my thoughts were not my own.

  We stared at each other in silence. It was still somewhat strange to see her in front of me. A figment of my imagination made real. She didn't look quite as I had imagined. I hadn't given such a hard glint to her eyes or such a cruel twist to her mouth. Those features were hers alone.

  I fidgeted, growing impatient as the silence lengthened, and finally it was I who spoke first.

  "You know why I am here."

  "Of course." Her tone was entirely pleasant, as if we were discussing something of no more consequence than the weather or what I ate for breakfast. "And you know I won't allow it."

  "I can't let you continue doing this. You're my responsibility. I brought you into this world, even if I didn't mean to."

  "Poor boy. Such a burden on you, isn't it. Such terrible powers. Such responsibility for one so young."

  Her words wormed into my brain. They burrowed, trying to elicit self-pity. At my feet, Bramble growled softly. I clung to the sound, letting it too seep into my mind, and it eased Ida's hold.

  "I didn't ask for this ability." My voice sounded strong. "I didn't know what I was doing when I created you. I didn't know I could do such a thing. But I did it, and I take responsibility for it."

  "What do you intend to do about it, Diarmuid? How strong are you? And where are your companions? They seem to be deserting you, one by one. Look at you now, standing there with nothing but that creature at your side."

  "My companions have been through much for me. They have travelled a long way, even through the realm of the fey, because they believed in what I intended to do."

  "They never believed in your quest, Diarmuid. Each chose to accompany you for their own selfish reasons. You were a way for them to achieve what they wanted, not what you wanted."

  "That's not true."

  "Isn't it? Think about it. The girl is running away from the father of her child. You provided a disguise for her escape. Who would think to look for one such as she amongst a small party of friends travelling together? And the man, he flees his own demons. A wife who hates him, a career that allows him to indulge in his desire for murder. We all saw what happened yesterday. He could barely stop himself from bathing in poor Davin's blood."

  "Stop it. You're twisting it all. Everything you say is only part of the truth. They are my friends."

  Ida's stare flickered down to Bramble and my breath caught in my throat. Not her, I thought before I remembered that I must not think anything I wouldn't want Ida to know. My mind is an ocean. Restless waves. Impatient currents.

  "You know this creature is not what she seems." Ida's voice was light and her eyes sparkled as if she was sharing a joke. "But do you know exactly what she is? Have you ever wondered how she came to be in such a form? It is a punishment, surely, and a grave punishment indeed to be taken from your own form and forced into another. What secrets does this creature, the last of your companions, hold?"

  "Leave her alone." My voice was less steady now. "She's done nothing to you."

  "Oh, but she has. She's comforted you, aided yo
u. Look at her now. She desperately wants to speak, doesn't she? But she can't, except with barks and whines and growls. Do you wonder what she might say, this fiery little companion of yours, if she could speak? Shall we find out?"

  My heart stumbled and my eyes locked with Bramble's. I saw fear in them, but also hope.

  "Please," I said. "Don't do anything to her."

  I didn't need to look at Ida to know she smiled. "Oh I'm not going to do anything to her. I'm going to undo what has already been done."

  50

  Brigit

  A RUSHING WIND filled my ears. The world blurred, fading and twisting as I fell. My body felt wrong. Stretched. Contorted. Too big. I wanted to tuck my tail between my legs and howl.

  The scents were gone. I couldn't smell Diarmuid or Ida or the lingering traces of Davin's death. The only odours left to me were bread and furniture polish. Without my sense of smell, I was blind. I whined but the noise sounded wrong. My mouth didn't work properly and my teeth were the wrong shape. My tongue was too small in my mouth. And my tail, where was my tail? I crouched on the wooden floor, confused and shaken. When I tried to speak, actual words came out. My voice was croaky and my mouth numb.

  "D-Diarmuid?"

  I reached for him as I stumbled to my feet. Hands. Long fingers, a scar on my wrist where I had burnt myself through carelessness in the kitchen. My own hands. I looked down. Legs, feet shod in boots. I stood on human legs. I wore the same work dress as the day the fey girl had taken my form from me. With shaking hands, I touched my face, my hair. My heart leapt. I touched my injured ear. It felt misshapen, twisted.

  Diarmuid backed away from me, bumping into the wall.

  "Diarmuid?" Words felt wrong. I had become so accustomed to Bramble's barks and whines, whimpers and growls. A dog can express such a variety of emotion within the limits of its speech.

  "What are you?" Diarmuid whispered.