The Dreaming Spires

by William Kingshart

  “We are not alone. We certainly have not the right—far less the obligation and duty—to exploit the planet’s fossil fuel resources. We share the custody of Earth with all living beings. Let us be the custodians who finally, after fifteen thousand years, bring, instead of cruelty, greed and exploitation, light and compassion to our Mother Earth, and those who share her with us.”

  There was a timeless moment. It may have been a second or it may have been ten minutes or more, of absolute silence. Then the room erupted. They had been hypnotized, as had I, by my own words. I had taken them inside my consciousness, and I felt that I had walked through the landscapes of their minds. It had been a freaky experience, but somehow, by some miracle, I had pulled it off.

  I stepped down amid the applause and stood facing Dicky. The headmaster was on the stage speaking. I didn’t listen. I said to Dicky, “What were you playing at? After everything that happened, after everything you said to Danu…”

  He stared at me for a long moment then said, “You’re a fool, Norgard. A bloody fool. You are naïve, and you have backed a loser. Get out of my way.” And he pushed past me and out of the hall.

  Then the assessment of the judges was being read out and I had won. In a kind of daze, I went up on the stage and received the award and the commendation, and there was lots of clapping and cheering. My dad was shaking my hand, Ciara and Rosie were kissing me on the cheek and Sebastian was slapping me on the back. Then we were pushing out toward the door, and my dad was talking to the headmaster and Mr. Singh, who was saying that he had known from the start I could do it.

  I was alone with Michael Fionn, and he was shaking my hand and shaking his head at the same time. “I had never seen it in that way, my boy. You put in such a way, with such clarity. I go to Brussels tomorrow with a new vision, with renewed hope. Thank you, young man. You are a remarkable fellow. Thank you…”

  I stood alone among the crowd of people. I was aware that Ciara was watching me. I was aware that something was very wrong and she knew it. Everything was back to front and upside down. I had won. I had gotten through to Fionn, which I now understood was what I had been meant to do from the start. Everything had gone according to plan.

  But still, something was very wrong.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dad was shaking my hand and pounding me on the shoulder. We were out on the street and the evening breeze was chilling my face. I was smiling a lot. This was very different to what I had envisaged just an hour before.

  Dad was saying, “Son, I cannot tell you how proud I am of you. My God, I had no idea you had this skill. You are one dark horse, Jake, but wow!” He turned to Rosie, who had a beautiful smile on her face. It was an odd smile. It reminded me of something, but I just couldn’t think what it was. Dad was saying to her, “I mean, that boy was good. He had us all laughing and almost believing that climate change was a good thing.” He turned back to me. “But, man! You came in there and pow! Jake, I am so proud of you!”

  Rosie took my hand in both of hers. “I am very proud of you, too, Jake. You shone. There is no other word for it.”

  Sebastian came up and slapped me on the shoulder. He appeared a wreck, but I guess I looked the same. He shook me by the hand and said, “Good stuff, old chap. Proud of you.” He shook Dad’s hand, too, and Rosie’s.

  Dad was feeling expansive and said, “Listen, guys. I’m in the mood for celebrating. Tomorrow’s Saturday and we don’t need to rise early. How about it? Dinner on me. We’ll go to Don Giovani’s. And, Sebastian, we’d love you to join us.” He gave me a sly smile and added, “And while you’re at it, you can tell us all about what the hell happened today!”

  Sebastian was saying he’d love to, but he needed half an hour to go home, shower and change. Over Dad’s shoulder, I could see Ciara and Fionn climbing into the Jag. A stab of adrenaline that felt like fear and apprehension set fire to my gut, and without knowing exactly why, I said, “Dad? Do you mind if I invite Ciara and her father?”

  He seemed surprised and hesitated. Across the road, the doors of the Jag slammed. I said, “Dad?”

  “Um, well, yes, of course! Have they left yet?”

  I began to push past him. “They’re just going. I’ll catch them…” But as I said it, the engine roared into life and they pulled away. A voice in my head was shouting at me to run after them. To catch them. I knew I had to be with Ciara and her dad that night. It wasn’t over. Somehow, it wasn’t over yet.

  I turned back to Dad. Rosie was watching me intently. Dad was frowning.

  I said, “Listen. I’m a mess. Why don’t you two walk on to the restaurant? I’ll drive back, have a shower and call Ciara. I’ll meet you at the restaurant in half an hour.”

  Dad was frowning harder. “I don’t know, son.”

  Rosie said, “George?”

  He looked at her. “Wha…?”

  She smiled at him and patted his cheek. “I think Jake would like Ciara to come along. I think he might have some news for us later.”

  His eyes went wide and his mouth made a big ‘O’. He nodded. “Okay, son, be quick.”

  Rosie smiled at me, but there was very little humor in her face. She said, “Be quick. There’s a good boy.”

  Dad threw me the keys and I ran. I clambered into the Jeep and almost didn’t bother with seat belts but didn’t want to press my luck at this point. I burned rubber for minutes and screeched into Fionn’s drive, skidding to a halt and kicking up gravel. I jumped out and ran to the door, ringing the bell and hammering on the wood with my fist.

  Michael Fionn took too long to answer, considering the noise I was making. When he did finally open it, he kept it on the chain. He peered out at me through the crack, pale and drawn. This was not the same man who had been pumping my hand half an hour earlier. I said, “Mr. Fionn, I need to talk to you and Ciara.”

  His eyes swiveled right and left. “Ah, now, she’s gone to bed. She’s awful tired. I’m not long for bed myself. Excellent debate. Now, I must…” and he began to close the door.

  Without thinking, I jammed my foot in the gap. I said, “Mr. Fionn, it’s urgent. I think they may come back.”

  His face changed suddenly and he leaned forward between the door and the jamb. “For God’s sake, lad, go! Get out of here. You’ve caused enough havoc. Go! Just go!”

  I reached through and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. I had that strength that only desperation can give you. I yanked hard, his face pushed through the gap and he gave a small, strangled shriek. I pressed my face close to his and hissed. “Don’t you realize what he is going to do? Once he has made you do what he wants, he will first kill Ciara then he will kill you!”

  He shook his head—or tried to in the confined space—and began to sob. “But if I don’t do what he says, he’ll kill her. I can’t bear to lose her. I can’t.”

  I growled, “Man up! Your only hope is to let me in. Let me in or I’ll kick the door down and set fire to your house! Do it!”

  His eyes bulged. “Okay.” He fumbled with the chain and let me in.

  I said, “Where are they?”

  He pointed with a flapping hand. “My study.”

  I hesitated. A thought suddenly crystallized in my mind. I sprinted silently up the stairs and into Ciara’s room. Her bow was leaning against the wall. I strung it and selected two arrows. That was all I needed. Then I ran back down the stairs and pushed into the study.

  He was sitting behind the desk. He was smiling at me. He had known I would know, and he’d known I would come. In his hand, he held a revolver. It seemed like the sort of thing Dirty Harry might use and like it would do a lot of damage. He was turned sideways to me, facing Ciara.

  Ciara was on a straight-backed chair. She was tied, hand and foot. She was in the middle of the room, slightly to my left, in front of the fireplace. Fionn was on the sofa, appearing gray. Dicky looked at my hands then up at my face. “You brought a bow. How sweet. But you know you can never defeat me—not in combat.”


  I nocked one of the arrows but didn’t draw it. I said, “For all your talk at the abbey, you never intended to stop the drilling for oil, did you?”

  He chuckled, focused on Ciara instead of me. “You’re slow, Jake, but I’ll give you this, you do eventually get there.”

  “You knew that Ciara was trying to persuade her father to advise against the drilling. How did you know that? I guess you used your shape-shifting leprechauns.”

  He glanced at me, a little surprised. “Leprechauns?” He laughed. “Don’t be absurd. Leprechauns are cobblers. Those were simple demons.”

  “But the last thing you wanted was a change in policy on fossil fuels. You wanted them to keep right on changing the climate, didn’t you?”

  He gazed at me a while with no expression. Finally, he said, “Give it up, Jake. Tomorrow, Michael here will travel to the European Commission and he will advise them to go right ahead and drill for oil, and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Your little exercise in blarney was very impressive, but you haven’t got what it takes. You are not ruthless enough. Try to stop me, and Ciara will die. It’s that simple.” He raised the gun for me to see. “I am as good a shot with one of these as I am with one of those.” He indicated my bow, which I’d brought, thinking there might be trouble. “But this does a lot more damage.”

  Ciara spoke for the first time. “Why? Surely we all want the same thing? Surely we want to save Earth?”

  I answered for him. “Earth, yes, but not humanity. He sees humanity as a plague, don’t you, Ar En? You don’t want them to reform. You want them to follow the course of all plagues and destroy themselves. You made the point at the debate. The planet has seen high temperatures and massive CO2 levels before. The planet will recover. Some species thrive on those levels, don’t they? Especially reptiles, like the naga. But not humanity. Humanity would become extinct by its own hand. And that was what you wanted all along.”

  He nodded, still smiling. “Bingo. And that is what I will get. I, Jake, and those who work with me. Do not think I am alone. We will, eventually, drive your disgusting species back where you came from.”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  He looked at me, faintly surprised. “No? Really? You need convincing?” He stood and directed the gun at Ciara’s leg. “What shall it be? Her kneecap? Her shin?”

  Fionn half-rose, his face crumpling, his hands outstretched. “No! No! Please! I’ll do anything you say. Anything!”

  Dicky frowned at him, one of those taunting, smiling frowns. “I don’t know, Michael. I think Jake is getting to you. I think you both need to be convinced of my seriousness—of my commitment. I don’t think you believe me capable…”

  He pulled back the hammer. Ciara met his eye and her jaw was set firm. She said, “Daddy, whatever he does to me, you know the right thing to do.”

  And as she spoke the words, I drew and loosed. It took him completely by surprise. He didn’t react. I knew he wouldn’t, because the arrow was not directed at him. It was directed at the medallion I knew he had hanging around his neck. By the time the barb had torn through his shirt and ripped the pendant from his chest, I had the second arrow nocked. In slow motion, he turned and looked at me in astonishment, realizing too late what I had done. He glared and turned back toward Ciara. The gun wavered in his hand as he tightened his finger on the trigger, but by then, the second arrow had left the bow. It pierced his wrist at a hundred and fifty miles per hour. The impact made the hammer of the revolver smash down. The gun exploded and spat fire. The bullet skimmed past Ciara’s head and shattered the oak paneling on the wall. By then, I was already at the fireplace with the poker in my hand. Dicky was screaming, trying to rip the shaft from his wrist. He knew what was coming and needed something—anything—as a sword.

  But it was too late. I lunged forward and plunged the poker into his heart. There was no blood, just an intense flash of white-blue light, a percussion and a terrible scream that faded like an echo.

  I got a knife from the kitchen and cut Ciara free then poured her dad a very stiff glass of whiskey. Believe it or not, we actually joined my dad and Rosie for dinner at Don Giovani’s, after I’d had a shower and combed my hair. We were a little late, but Dad was so pleased with me—and with the two Martinis he’d already had—that nobody seemed to mind. All in all, it was a good day.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next day was Saturday, and in the afternoon, after a well-deserved rest, Ciara came to visit. At first, we were kind of shy. Up till then, we had only ever spoken to each other at school, in secret or while escaping from demons and kidnappers. We had a lot to learn about each other—what music we liked, what bands, what we wanted to do in the future…all that stuff.

  As it turned out, we were pretty much on the same page about most things, and we seemed to do a lot of laughing. And I don’t care if it’s lame or corny or whatever, however much she laughed, I still heard silver bells and saw bluebirds flying. That’s just the way she was.

  At four, Rosie, being Rosie, made English tea. Drawn by the amazing smell, we had joined her in the kitchen, where she was baking a cake. We chatted with her for a bit then she said, “Why don’t you two take the little garden table down to the arbor? I’ll bring the tea out on a tray when it’s ready.”

  I had a moment of apprehension, remembering what had happened the last two times I’d been down there, thinking about Ciara. But I put the thought to the back of my mind. I lifted the white wrought-iron table, and between us we carried three chairs. It took two trips, and when we’d set them up, I sat and she strolled about, smelling the roses while I watched her. Somewhere a blackbird was singing into the September afternoon. A bee was buzzing lazily among the flowers. The air was sweet and heavy.

  Ciara said, “I love blackbirds. They have the most beautiful song of all. Don’t you think?”

  I nodded.

  “Actually,” she went on, “I love all birds, and all birds love me.”

  I laughed. “I remember.”

  We heard footsteps, and after a second, Rosie appeared with a tray, bearing salmon and cucumber sandwiches, a rich fruit cake and a pot of tea. She set it on the table, sat and began to pour. Then she handed me a cup and said, “Don’t worry, Jake. Gorm won’t be joining us.”

  I froze. “What?”

  She smiled at me. Ciara came over from the roses and sat next to me. Rosie handed her a cup, saying, “You thought that the way to summon him was to come down here and think about Ciara.”

  Ciara looked at me, beamed and burst out laughing. “Jake! That’s so sweet.”

  I stared, aghast, from one to the other. “You know? You both know?”

  Rosie put her hand on mine. “I’m sorry, Jake. I had to use Gorm. It was the only way. He’s an awful clod and he does forget everything. The poor love is three thousand years old. But it is so hard to get the help these days, even in Tír na nÓg.”

  I shook my head, gawping from Ciara to Rosie and back again. “But…but why?”

  She put down the teapot and cut into the cake. “Well, imagine… If you’d known I knew, you’d have been constantly asking me questions. You’d have been all over the place, wouldn’t you? As it was, you did a magnificent job of keeping it a secret from me and your father.”

  “So, who else…?”

  “Nobody, just me and Ciara.”

  My head was still shaking like a toy Alsatian. “But, but, but…who are you?”

  She stopped dead with a slice of cake halfway to a plate. Her face was suddenly radiant with love and a just a hint of sadness. She laid down the slice of cake and came and hunkered down in front of me, holding my hands in hers. “Jake, I know it’s hard. You believe I am twenty-six, just a few years older than you and Ciara, but actually, I am five hundred years old, and I am your mother.”

  I went cold. The hair on my scalp prickled, but suddenly it all made sense. “Mom? My real mother?”

  “Yes, Jake, it’s me.”

  “But
you can’t stay here, in this world. You have to go back.”

  “Every so often, yes. I met your father and we fell in love. He is such a brilliant, kind, honorable man. He had no idea who or what I was, but we loved each other and I gave up Tír na nÓg to be with him, and we had you. But eventually I had to go back or die. Believe me, it broke my heart to leave you both. So much, in fact, that I had to return.”

  “That’s why he fell for you so quickly…”

  “He recognized me. He would never admit it—to me or to himself—but I know he did. And so did you.”

  I wiped my eyes and my cheeks and realized my face was wet. “Mom, how long before…?”

  She laughed. “Oh, a good few years. Don’t worry, but my powers will slowly wane. I don’t mind. It is you who needs to fight on, not me. I am just happy to be with you and George again.”

  I frowned. “But what about Dicky? He’s my brother? Is he your son?”

  She shook her head, stood and went back to her seat. “No. He is of our clan, and so he has the same name. He is my sister’s son. He is your cousin.”

  I turned to Ciara. “And you… You knew. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She grinned as she bit into a huge slice of cake. “At first, I didn’t realize. That’s why I kept telling you it was impossible for us to be together. My mother gave me a prophecy—that I would meet, fall in love with and eventually marry a prince from Tír na nÓg. Well, who would ever have imagined he’d be an American?” She burst out laughing. Silver bells. Bluebirds. Then she turned to me again and smiled. “I wanted it to be you, but I didn’t believe it. Then when I realized? Well, there was so much going on, and it was kind of fun keeping the secret.” She gave me a funny look and added, “I’m surprised you didn’t guess, what with the archery and the birds and everything.”