by Gavin Green
Chapter 32
Vaughn had found his target easily enough. He first used the nearest of his fae-bridges, which was down near Cork. From there, he simply flew in the direction that his gift of location urged him to go.
He initially found the village of Ballaghadaere to be small and quaint, but without much craic to be had. There was a strong essence of glamour all about the area, although he wasn't of the mind to harvest much. Without the need to visit Jane McCarthy's home, Vaughn remotely found her location.
He settled as a squatter in an empty apartment above a bakery within the village center, and waited until the human girl lapsed into slumber to peruse and gauge her dreams. Vaughn would need at least a few nights of distant investigation to evaluate the geography of her dreamscapes.
Unless the McCarthy girl decided for a midday nap, Vaughn had little to do and so ambled about the village and its surroundings. Sensing that the area was a 'thin place', the outgoing leprechaun assumed there must be a generous supply of fae who were common visitors there and hoped to meet some.
Unexpectedly, it was another fae who found him, and a fellow leprechaun as a bonus. Her name was Rhiannon, a reserved type with bouncy auburn hair and big, lime-colored eyes. She only approached because she hadn't seen another of her race in the area for some time, and was curious. Vaughn learned that she was barely of median age, still practicing her lucks and curses. Still, Rhiannon was a pleasant diversion, and better than sitting in a barren room eating the baker's leftovers.
Late into that evening, after having a bit of fun making children's new toys work without batteries for a time and then unexpectedly break, Vaughn sat in the corner of his temporary dwelling and savored a cream-filled pastry.
The glow from the strung lights of the decorated village lit the room well enough to see what few items were forgotten there. Two empty boxes were stacked in a corner, and a paint can sat next to a narrow closet door. Except for one crack in the plaster, the walls were barren, their color unknowable in the dim light. If Vaughn had tried to imagine where he'd be staying before he got there, it certainly wouldn't have been where he currently found himself. Better accommodations were in order, although he'd miss the easy access to the baked goods below.
With a finger absently swirling in the air, Vaughn located the McCarthy girl; moreover, he found her in the beginnings of a dream state. He studied emerging patterns as her unconscious mind formed one vision and then another, sometimes gathering into scenarios.
Jane McCarthy was found to be an imaginative girl, full of hopes, creativity, and romantic yearnings. There was a young man that flitted through her sleeping mind, but soon faded. Vaughn hoped the poor bastard wasn't a current beau because she was near her end with him; her head knew it, but the girl's heart probably hadn't admitted it yet.
Other, more vivid images churned; a small white car, a crowd of attentive and smiling people in front of her, a shiny guitar and an assortment of lyrics, a big man with grey eyes, and a tabby cat.
In due time, Vaughn would have to apply the phrases 'first, one door, then another' and 'one room, two doors' into Jane's psyche. But the image, a random door, would be easier to integrate as an external intrusion, so he would start with that. He saw the plain white closet door across from him and thought it would do as well as any. Vaughn scrutinized its simple shape intently, fixing it in his mind so he could soon impose it into hers.
This matter of influence for a foreign concept, such as unexpected doors, was a subtle and protracted chore. If Vaughn were sent to plague someone with nightmares, for example, he could have used the target's own fears as a base and could begin haunting their dreams immediately. So, for the promise of title, he patiently went about his business of dream-crafting.