Sully was certain he detected a slight waver in her voice. “I believe I am,” his voice softened. “How else would ya know so much about its nature if ya had not experienced it for yerself? Each time ya returned, you made sure ya did the hurting first. Ya thought you’d be smarter, safer, but you’ve only managed to end up more hurt and alone.”
His eyes appealed to her for a truthful answer. “Why, Ciar? Why didn’t ya learn from yer mistakes?”
“Like you did? Like Gillean did? You’re both useless. He’ll lose everything with his so-called new insight on life because of his love for you. Is that what you consider compensation for good behavior?” She dug out a shirt from a pile of laundry sitting in a basket. “It’s too late for you. You won’t have the chance of a life with your beloved Gillean. You won’t get your just reward,” she hissed, buttoning up the shirt which hung above her knees. “Thanks to you, I soon will have no power. It’s been decided that I should receive significant sentence for misleading you. I will become human with no chance to earn my way back into my collective.” She shivered. “No doubt that makes you happy.”
“No, it doesn’t. But, I do hope you will have the sense enough to recognize that things can be different, you can be different, happy even.”
Despite all that had happened between them, despite all the pain Ciar had inflicted on him, Sully could not help feeling compassion for her. He reached out in sympathy.
“Don’t look at me that way, little boy.” She jerked away and took up the half-burned candle from the window ledge.
“Don’t be afraid. Let me help you.”
Their eyes exchanged a look of empathy for a fleeting instant
She seemed to be wrestling with a heavy decision. And then the shadow of darkness reasserted itself. “Goodbye, Sully. One last bit of black magic for you to enjoy.”
She dropped the candle into the basket of clothing then tipped its ignited contents onto the floor. Hungry flames chewed at the timber floorboards, traveling up one leg of the kitchen table which alighted within seconds. “You can’t help me, or yourself. This time you won’t be coming back, and you won’t ever be united with Gillean again.”
Sully grabbed for the blanket on his bed trying in vain to smother the growing flames. The fire eagerly sucked at the material like marrow from a bone. The dire circumstances hit him like a balled fist as he tried to force open a window. His limited strength could not budge the window in the slightest. Even the door seemed to be hermetically sealed.
Ciar laughed. “Don’t even bother. There is only one thing about my future that makes me happy, that you will no longer be a presence to contend with.”
He grabbed her from behind and held her against him. “Don’t do this. Don’t waste the only chance you have for redemption on me.”
“Leave go!” she protested, but did nothing to prevent his restraining grip.
“Don’t ya see? You will be human. You can have an entirely different kind of existence now, a better one.”
“As if you were interested in my redemption, rather than your own skin!” she snapped.
“Let me help you,” he pleaded.
“NO!” Her elbow jabbed into his stomach. She shoved backward, sending him sprawling to the floor which was fast becoming engulfed in ravenous, orange flames. He got to his knees, but she passed through the door without another look or word for him. In seconds he was pounding against his side, hopelessly trapped.
“Ciar!” He called out to her. “It’s not too late! Open the door!”
“Stupid Sully,” she whispered. “This must be done.” She allowed herself a half smile as she listened to his urgent rapping. “But, I hope you go quickly.”
She ran for the trees straight ahead. She meant to stay and make sure nothing would go wrong. Justice was called for. No matter what he had claimed to believe about her, Sully had to pay for what he had done. Actions were always louder than words.
As she watched the cabin lit from within by swiftly moving licks of fire, a car coasted its way up the gravel road gaining speed as it neared the cottage. The headlights illuminated her body against the backdrop of an alder tree. She closed her eyes and summoned the remnants of who she was for one final lie.
~~~
Gillean and Arlen were silent, each trying to make sense of the devastation they were witnessing. The place which housed Sully was fast on its way to becoming an inferno.
“What’s happened, Da?” Arlen looked to his father as if he could provide a reasonable answer, one that would assure Sully’s safety.
Gillean’s hands trembled as he switched off the engine. He turned to his son who was already opening the passenger side door.
“Just hold now. We don’t know what we’re dealing with. We have to be care—”
The boy was already out the door and racing for a figure standing among the trees gathered outside Charlie’s cottage.
“Da! Over here! Come this way!” Arlen flailed his arms in the air.
“Arlen, wait!”
Gillean took another look at the blaze, then set off in the direction of his son. They met up at the tree, greatly relieved to find the person they believed to be Sully. He appeared a little shaken, but otherwise unharmed.
“He won’t talk, Da. I tried to ask him what happened, but he won’t talk.”
Gillean moved in closer.
“Sully, are you alright? Are you injured?”
Sully’s hands were hidden inside the pockets of his trousers. He looked at Gillean with an expression devoid of any emotion, shaking his head back and forth to indicate he had not been harmed.
Gillean tried to be supportive, but the blank look on Sully’s face was grossly incongruent with the dire situation.
“This is quite awful, I know.” Gillean glanced back to the burning building. “Sweet Jesus! What about Charlie? He’s not in there, is he?”
Again, only a shake of the head indicating Charlie was not in the cottage.
Arlen drew his father’s attention momentarily away from the exasperating Sully. “Charlie? Who's Charlie?”
“I’ll explain to you later, son.”
Gillean grabbed at Sully’s arm like a fretful child unable to have his way. “Sully, will you please speak. We’ve come to take you back to Bantry Bay with us. Isn’t that welcome news?”
Sully pursed his lips together and looked upwards to the empty sky.
“What’s wrong with you, damn it?” Gillean shook the man. “Say something!”
“Maybe he’s too in shock to tell us anything right now.”
Gillean nodded, appreciating his son’s observation, and smoothed a hand over Sully’s linen shirt.
“I’m sorry. Of course. Why don’t you just tell us what you can?” he said in a more patient tone.
Inside the cottage, Sully frantically tried to open the windows. He picked up a chair and heaved it against the glass. But upon impact the chair splintered apart and hit the floor, leaving the window intact. The heat of the fast moving flames was overwhelming. He tried one last time using all the strength he could rally to kick at the door handle with his boot. It was as solid as steel.
Sinking to his knees, he watched in helpless terror as the fire ate through the room, making its way to him. Disjointed thoughts cut through the haze of flames: he was not going to get out, he was going to die here, alone in Charlie’s cabin. His fading lucidity grasped on to one thought, one prayer: if he was to die, then Gillean and Adara must look after one another. If they could learn from each other, encourage the positive changes that were taking place in their individual lives, then at least Sully’s time on earth would have meant something.
But the thought of Gillean made him want to fight for his own chance at happiness. Fury blazed within, more stinging than the flames entrapping him. He wanted to grow and evolve in the steadfast love they had found. Gillean was with him now, he had never left. Sully knew with absolute conviction that Gillean meant to be with him, and he would tell Adara this in a most re
spectful, caring way. This was the being Sully loved, the being in whose devoted eyes he lived. He would fight death itself trying to secure that vision.
He forced the weight of his aching body onto his hands and pushed himself up from the floor. It would be only seconds until the entire room would go up like a tinder box. Something scratched against his leg, mewing in almost human-like screams.
“Fat cat!”
Sully blindly bent down again, reaching for the animal. His hands took hold of a tuft of fur. Dizziness and the collecting smoke prevented him from moving once he stood again. The air was tight and burnt, leaving precious little to inhale, but he had to get to the stairs. The hope of prying one of the windows open and jumping to safety kept him in motion. He remembered the upstairs loft door facing the eastern side of the forest. Attempting the intricate dance around the flames leading to the stairs, and the agitated cat threatening to leap from his arms at any moment, Sully crouched lower to the ground, away from the wreaths of rising smoke. He tried to speak words of comfort to the traumatized tabby and himself, but even talking required enormous effort.
“No…worries now…You and I will get out…”
His foot kicked against the bottom stair just as the first tremors of coughing tore through his body. He turned his head away from the crying animal, pressing his face into his shoulder. The extreme heat was at his back, reminding him of the fate awaiting him if he panicked. He mounted the second step, then the third, making his way slowly but determinedly up to the next floor, the place where Charlie’s treasures were stored. The fire took on a music all its own. He could hear it crackling and popping as if it meant to follow him up the stairs. Sully now wished for that genie in the bottle. Upstairs the air was even less breathable. The vapors had already found higher ground. The smoke placed its thick hands around his neck and squeezed.
He didn’t think to stay low to the ground once he spied the loft window. He was too focused on getting to it and prying the latch open. He gently placed the cat on the floor.
“Stay put, wee one.” He touched his hand to the wailing animal’s head as a fit of coughing overtook him. “I just…have to…”
His shaking hands took hold of the latch, and with one great heave he used his entire body weight to pull it upwards. He felt it give slightly.
“Yes…please…”
Sweat and smoke stung at his eyes. His grip weakened. Impenetrable vapors filled his lungs, weighing them down like sacks of water. His hands slipped from the latch, his knees buckled under him like a newborn colt.
He felt like a hapless boat dashed against the jagged limestone on the edge of the Ceide` hill. He remembered the place as a boy, how the chunks of moss-covered rock rose up from the water, thousands of years in defiance of the sea. Blue-white waves swirled around the pieces of freestanding land. The only safe place was in the middle of the fields, where grass, foxgloves, dog roses and ragged robins welcomed the traveler with their soft beauty. It was this image, the secure harbor of the Ceide` fields that Sully’s mind delivered to him as he dropped unconscious right below the half-opened window.
Adara was waiting for him there. He squinted and covered his eyes as the sweltering sun shone in all its mid-summer glory. The breeze played through her ginger hair like a fiddler’s fingers on his strings. She was calling to him.
“Come Sully! Gillean is waiting for you. It’s alright.” Her smile was one of full out joy. “Come see, I’m a dancer!” Her azure dress snapped like clothes drying on a line as the wind twirled the cotton around her lissome legs as she leaped into the air. Gillean appeared behind her, laughing and waving Sully on.
But Sully was so tired. He waved back, signaling his desire to lie in the tall grass. He could see Gillean coming towards him as he fell peacefully onto the green, wet earth. He closed his eyes, sure in the knowledge that he would soon be with Gillean, his body covering Sully like a velvet blanket.
~~~
The lights were hotter than Adara remembered as she pirouetted around the stage, her body moving in perfect symmetry. She cast her eyes out into the audience, but was blinded by the footlights. She knew Gillean was present, playing his guitar with the orchestra. There was no mistaking the unique South American spice he sprinkled into the traditional Irish tune she danced to. One by one her fellow dancers exited the stage unexpectedly and she was left to carry on. The music continued unabated. She felt a sense of comfort knowing Gillean was there with her.
But something was horribly out of synch. She was coming to the most important part of the dance, her grand jete. As she began the short run leading into the leap, a lone fiddle played terribly out of tune. The bow slid over each string which protested in an ear piercing pitch. The sound was so jarring she struggled with her footing. There was no turning back, she had to make the jump. Tremendous fear threatened to immobilize her, but her agile body instinctively took to the air. She landed soft as a snowflake.
Gillean’s music echoed off the walls of the theatre. Adara basked in the moment, taking in deep, blissful breaths. She accomplished her goal unassisted, despite her apprehension. She searched the orchestra pit for the rouge fiddle player. Straining against the footlights her blurred vision came into focus locating him. Sully! He was laying a few feet away from her as if he had fallen from the rafters onto the stage. A crushed fiddle lay by his side.
“No!” she protested. The music played on. “Gillean, help!” She coughed out the words like blood. “Help him!”
Adara wrestled her way out of the ghastly dream. Her body was drenched in sweat, her heart still pounded with an unknown dread. The house was quiet. She must have fallen asleep on the couch after putting the little ones to bed. She strained against the stifling anxiety to gather her senses. Gillean’s music drifted from somewhere down the hall. It was an old song, one he had written when he was not much older than Arlen. She shook her head, enshrouded with the fog of sleep. Gillean wasn’t here. He had gone for Sully. She jumped from the couch and sprinted down the long corridor. Not one of her three children was about, so where was the music coming from?
She covered her mouth in terror as the picture of Sully prostate on the stage flashed through her now conscious mind. She dashed towards the phone in the front hallway. Pushing one button the phone dialed the pre-programmed number.
Gillean’s mobile was on its last ring before going to voice mail when he picked up, seeing it was Adara on the line.
“Adara, hallo?” he shouted into the receiver
“Oh thank God.” Her voice was strained and panicked. “Where is Sully? Is he alright? Oh, Gillean, I know something awful has happened. Please help him!”
The man standing before Gillean showed the first hint of expression upon hearing Adara’s voice booming through the phone. The man quickly averted his eyes from Gillean’s pointed stare.
“It’s alright, Dara,” he said in a guarded manner. “Arlen and I are right here with Sully. He’s a bit shook up, but I think he’ll be just fine once we get him out of here. Are you and the children alright?”
“Yes, were all fine,” she quickly confirmed. “I don’t care what you say, what you believe about Sully, but something is dreadfully wrong. He’s not telling you everything. He’s trying to protect you, but he’s in danger. I know it.”
Gillean faced the roaring fire turning his back from Sully and his son. His mind swabbed at the doubt bubbling up with Adara’s plea. She sounded so certain about Sully being in jeopardy, yet here he was right in front of Gillean seemingly right as rain, even though more subdued than usual.
“No worries. We’ll all be home in no time. Take care of you and the children.”
“Gillean!”
He switched off the phone as he felt a tug on his arm.
“Da.” Arlen was pulling at Gillean’s sleeve. “Look!”
When Gillean faced Sully again, terror pumped through his body.
“This isn’t Sully.” Arlen’s tone was as sure and cold as February.
Gi
llean probed the man’s eyes. They shifted in color, like a prism sending out sparks of vivid hues that grew brighter and sharper by the glow of the fire.
Gillen stepped closer, toe to toe with the man. He’d looked into these eyes before, but the feelings stirred were not the warmth and compassion his soul mate radiated. They held a sinister foreboding.
“You’re quite right.” Gillean held the stranger with his scrutinizing gaze. “This isn’t Sully.”
“You’re too late, little Gilly.”
As the words were uttered, all traces of the likeness of Sully fell away like a collapsing house of cards. In a matter of seconds the image of his beloved was transformed into that of his former lover. In the same instant of recognition, her name about to escape his lips, a sound much like the aftermath of a bomb reverberated through the once peaceful woods. The windows to the cabin had exploded from the intense heat. The shattering glass sounded like thousands of tiny bells ringing out a dire warning of inevitable destruction. Gillean jerked his head around in time to see the door to the cottage swinging from its hinges.
The doors and windows which had been impenetrable now opened like the gates to paradise. Smoke poured from the building infecting the virgin sky. The fire extended its orange tentacles to the ceiling of the ground floor.
“He’s in there!” Arlen screamed.
Gillean swallowed back the sickness rising in his throat as he faced Ciar, the woman he had once claimed to love. He had been simply a means to an end for her. She had been determined on one thing only, to get to Sully and destroy him. It was icing on the cake that she might take down Gillean as well.
She lowered her head half-whispering the words, “He’s gone, Gillean. The debt is settled. It’s meant to be.”
“So you say.” Gillean furiously shook her. “Well, I’m not finished yet, and neither is Sully.”
Gillean grabbed for Arlen and reached for his mobile as he ran from her towards the house. He thrust the phone at his son. “Call for help and stay clear of the building,” he commanded.
Blackthorns of the Forgotten Page 28