by C E Dimond
I was determined to catch up to her.
Pushing myself harder, my sneakered feet slapped against the pavement as I began to gain distance and was gradually catching up to her.
Finally, I caught up to her, in fact I had passed her and before I could really think about it, I threw myself directly in front of her, blocking her path.
I don’t know what I’d been expecting to happen, but I definitely thought she was going to stop.
Clearly, that had been a major over-estimation on my part.
Her body slammed into mine, hard, and the air was knocked out of my lungs as we both hit the ground with a thud.
I gripped onto her arms tightly, in part to prevent her from running again and also because I felt like I needed the stability while I tried to get my breathing in order.
She tried to role away, but I held on tightly.
I couldn’t breathe, in fact it was painful.
As I lay there, the panic starting to settle in until she finally stopped fighting my hold and instead got up and pulled me to my feet. It took a moment more but eventually I gasped for air.
“Why- are- you- running?” I asked the words barely making it out, lost in my breathlessness.
I was still holding onto her arms, my grip too tight.
My attempt to stop her had driven us to the ground with such force that had sunglasses had gone flying from her face. I looked at her, her normally warm brown eyes still glowing blue. It felt like such a mystical, but unnatural sight.
She helped me off the road and over onto the pavement of the sidewalk until Both of us were sitting on the curb now, across from one another, as I waited for an answer.
“Because you were chasing me!” She offered, and I knew that wasn’t true.
“I was only chasing you, because you started running!” She had taken off long before I’d started chasing her. “Don’t lie!”
My voice was starting to sound normal again, the heavy breathing beginning to subside to a more normal pace.
“Your eyes are blue!” I reminded her, and she turned her gaze away once more as though she could hide the fact and I’d just forget about everything I’d already seen.
There were seconds of silence between us. She sighed and turned to bend to the ground, picking up her sunglasses before she finally spoke. I got an answer I hadn’t expected.
“Because I’m daoine mac tíre!” she snapped.
My eyes tilted up to the sky as I tried to search my brain for some relatable translation.
It was Irish Gaelic, I knew that much form the formation of the words, the sound.
The problem was that I had only just started learning it, so my knowledge was still relatively limited. It was soon clear I wasn’t going to be able to translate for myself and I returned my gaze back to her.
“I don’t know what that means,” I finally admitted. “My Gaeilge is pretty limited.”
She sighed before nodding in understanding. She lowered her eyes to the ground and for a moment, I thought she was going to run again.
If we had been in opposite positions, I might have run and not give me any sort of further explanation. I was silently praying she didn’t, I didn’t want to be back on google trying to translate daoine mac tire.
“Wolf people,” she finally said, and it was now sitting there on the tip of my tongue.
Wolf People.
My very first instinct was to laugh.
I didn’t, but I really wanted to. I wanted to laugh because, really? Wolf people?
It was hilarious, ridiculous even.
However, as everything that had happened to me over the past few months replayed in my mind, I knew that I’d seen too much already completely dismiss it.
At this point, anything was possible, even, as she put it, Wolf People.
So, I fell back on the one thing I knew for certain from my research on the island.
“There are no wolves in Ireland,” I responded.
Besides, I thought she said she was Canadian! Of course, I realized, now unlike America, I supposed no Caucasian was truly Canadian.
She looked annoyed at my statement, like I should have known better. Maybe I should have, maybe if I had grown up at Broadhaven like the others none of this would have been much of a surprise to me.
“Exactly,” she added she looked around the street to make sure that we were still alone. I decided to do the same, there were certain things you couldn’t allow wandering ears to pick up.
Once she was satisfied that no one was close enough to overhear our conversation she turned back to me.
“Why do you think we’re human now? The humans, the others… and the Warlocks were hunting us into extinction. We had no choice but to take human form permanently. It was a pretty simple choice for our people, adapt, or die. So, my ancestors chose to stay in their human forms to survive.”
“Holy crap,” I whispered, “You’re a werewolf!” It was the only comparison I could make to what she was telling me.
She laughed and shook her head.
“No! Now THAT would be ridiculous.” She promised. “Werewolves aren’t real, those weird hybrid man/beasts? Those are horror story concoctions based on… well, us I suppose.”
“Then what are you?” I questioned curiously.
“We’re daoine mac tire,” she said again.
“Okay,” My voice mirrored my confusion, “you can’t just repeat something and expect me to understand it the second time around.”
Too many people had a habit of doing that, they never clarified. If I didn’t know what I meant the first time around, I wouldn’t magically understand the next time you said it!
I heard her sigh, and she nodded in understanding.
“Alright just hang on,” she mumbled, “I don’t want to talk about all of this out in the middle of the street.” She got up from the pavement offering her hand to help me to my feet.
I accepted the offered hand and stood up. Together we walked while she led the way. I let her guide me until I realized we were going somewhere I was utterly familiar with.
Starbucks.
After we got our desired drinks, we grabbed a table in the corner, and I knew that it was way too loud in there for us to be over head.
Between the music, and the chatter the chances of anyone picking up on our conversation were limited.
“Okay,” I said. “So, you’re daoine mac tire. What exactly does that mean? You know, for someone like me.”
“You mean a Witch?” She asked.
My eyes widened and the shock couldn’t be hidden from my features and she kind of smiled as though she’d won a small victory.
My first instinct was to deny it, but she didn’t press any further, instead she continued to explain.
“We are wolves, who could, on occasion, turn ourselves into humans. We existed for centuries until the people started to fear us. Fear and ignorance can do scary things. Fear lead to hunting and hunting meant that we started to become extinct, and then,” Her voice trailed off, as though the thought was too difficult to continue. She took a moment to take in a careful breath, regaining her composure. “Then there were hardly any of us left, and in order to survive- “
“It became the other way around?” I asked, starting to get a grasp on her story.
“Exactly. So instead of living as Wolves who sometimes became human, we began to live as humans who occasionally, turn into wolves when needed.”
“Wow.” My voice was so hushed I wasn’t sure she could even hear me.
She was a wolf, and a human.
She was magical.
So, Witches, and faeries, weren’t the only magical beings out there.
“So, you’re from here then?”
She, like the Coven had a history here.
“Well, my parents are, yes.”
“So, you know why I’m here then.” If she already knew, all this time, that I was a Witch, it wasn’t hard for her to figure out what I was doing. All the research she had lo
ved to mock, it had a purpose she should have understood. “Why are you here?”
“You mean aside from the typical European backpacking trip?” She asked with a more relaxed smile now. “I don’t know really. I’ve got family here still. Though, we’ve never been back since my parents left. They still fear it here. It’s been centuries, but the fear is still very real. Still, my Dad always talks about the magic of the Island, how you could feel it, connect with it and feel so alive. I just wanted to know what that felt like. You know?”
The funny thing was, I did. I knew exactly what she meant. I had been feeling it since I’d arrived. The exception had been that I hadn’t had anyone to share it with.
“Yeah,” I confessed, “I think I get it.”
“I’m sure you do,” she admitted, there was a knowing look on her face that almost made me nervous. “I knew right away that you weren’t all human Finn. I could smell it the moment you walked into the hostel.”
I suddenly felt a little self-conscious, taking a moment to turn my nose toward my shoulder to see if I could detect anything, different or unpleasant about my scent.
Keilan laughed.
“Don’t worry, I think it’s just me. I’m sure you smell perfectly normal to everyone else.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“You are a Witch right?” Her voice was hushed now, and I figured there was no point in denying it now that she had outright confronted me, twice.
I nodded.
“What do I smell like?” I wondered curiously.
“Sort of like, herbs and spices.” She confessed. “A bit like apple cider, stronger than I’ve ever sensed before though.”
I nodded. If whatever the others at Broadhaven had told me was true, my power being naturally strong it made sense that my ‘witch’ scent would be strong as well.
“I only just found out recently.” I confessed. “That I’m a Witch.”
“Which is why you’re here doing research?”
I nodded.
“There're some things about my history that I need to figure out so that I can-" I hesitated. “I just want to know who I am you know?”
She nodded, and I began to explain at least part of my story. Whatever I could safely expose to her in the middle of a coffee shop.
I told her about being adopted, my Dad dying and having grown up with my Mother in Port Moyle. I explained all the strange things that had started happening to me and how Eamon had arrived.
I didn’t tell her about the prophecy, or Cormac or any of that. It felt dangerous to involve her. It seemed like too much to lay on someone who didn’t need to be involved but talking about the Coven, the boys, it felt nice.
“Eamon sounds a bit moody.” She offered, and I laughed.
It felt nice to laugh, even though the mention of him actually felt like a needle to my heart. Since I’d gotten there, I hadn’t let myself think about how much I missed him, missed all of them.
“He is,” I admitted, “But he’s just…” I trailed off, trying to find the right words to do him justice. “I think he’s trying to protect himself, and the others.”
Sure, he was moody. Though, I believed he was moody because; he wanted to be the best. He wanted to be the best because, he didn’t want anyone else getting hurt. He felt like it was his job to keep everyone in the Coven safe; I knew that now. I’d seen it in his breakdown, and I was beginning to understand the feeling.
“Does John know?” I asked I hadn’t even thought of it until that moment, until we’d been discussing Eamon.
That seemed like a pretty big secret to hide from a boyfriend.
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and that seemed to scream no to me.
“Not yet, I-” She caught herself and gave her shoulders a gentle shrug. “We’ve only been together for a couple of months and that’s a pretty heavy thing to lay on someone you know? I feel like I can’t reveal that until I’m sure someone is ‘The One’. Whatever that even means.”
“I get it.” And I did.
It wasn’t like I was going to turn around and tell any boy I went on a date with that I was a Witch. Some secrets had to be kept, until they couldn’t be kept anymore.
“It’s on a need to know basis at the moment. I’m usually a lot more careful about…hiding it but-”
“The other night!” It clicked suddenly.
“You were the dog in the alley!”
A new kind of annoyance flashed across her features and her eyes narrowed at me in a glare.
“I’m not a dog.” She grumbled.
“Sorry,” I hadn’t meant it like that. If there was even a way to mean it! “But that was you… you attacked that guy.”
She nodded confirming what I already knew.
“Dirty Warlocks.” She grumbled. “I smelled them when we walked into the bar and once you disappeared, I just had a bad feeling, so I followed him outside.”
“I owe you!” Which might have been a huge understatement.
“Come on, I wasn’t going to let them do whatever the hell they were planning. I’ve got your back.” She smiled and I felt myself relax.
“Thanks, I was powerless, literally.”
“I figured, I waited to see if you would do something first but, when you didn’t, I shifted. Warlock and Witch powers are defenseless against us.” She continued. “A gun or a spear on the other hand… that’s a different story.”
Suddenly, a thought hit me.
I wondered just how good her sense of smell really was. If she could tell I was a Witch from the moment I walked in the room, did that mean she could track me if I took off?
I raised a brow looking at her curiously as the idea turned over and over in my head.
“So, this sense of smell…” I began, leaning in just a little bit closer. “Just how good is it?”
9
Keilan and I spent the rest of the night at the coffee shop, at least until they kicked us out.
She did her best to answer all my questions, trying to fill me in on how her people lived and how scent tracking worked. At any other time, it simply would have been fascinating. Now, her explanation of her skills had given me exactly what I needed to know.
She could track a human if she needed to.
After the hours we’d spent talking over coffee, we walked back together to the hostel. I was glad to find that our bunk room was still empty, except for the two of us.
I dug through my things trying to find something I’d packed when I’d first left Port Moyle, something that belonged to my mother. When my hand closed around the familiar fabric, I pulled out the teal, woven pashmina.
“Can you get a scent off of this?” I held the shawl out to her. She took it in her hand lifting it to her nose for a moment and holding it there.
“Yours,” She offered, and I sighed.
“Any others?”
She tried again.
“It might be hard. It’s mixed in with yours, but I can definitely pull something else that’s distinct.” She confessed, “I’ve grown used to your scent in here, so the other one stands out. Why? Who does this belong to?”
“My Mom,” I confessed. “She’s missing, and I have a feeling that she’s here. I just have no idea where to start looking.”
If Cormac was here, which I was now certain that he was, my mother couldn’t have been too far away. She was his collateral; I had no doubt he would use her again me. And, if he planned to use her again me, it only made sense that he would have brought her here with him.
The look on her face screamed hesitant.
I didn’t blame her. I knew it was a long shot, just asking but I was at the end of my rope.
She probably didn’t want to get my hopes up but, this was better than nothing. My new wolf-friend was truly my last and possibly only shot at finding her.
She must have seen the desperation in my eyes because she seemed to sigh in resignation before agreeing.
“Well I’ll give it a shot, but there’s no guarantee.
The scent is already quite faint.”
“Just the fact that you’re offering means the world to me. I have no other options.”
“Alright, when John and I go out tomorrow, I’ll try and track it. If I find anything, I’ll text you.” She promised.
I nodded and offered her a grateful smile.
“That’s better than anything I have right now, so thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Isn’t there some kind of spell for this though? Scrying or…” She trailed off with a shrug. It seemed she knew as much about magic as I knew about being a wolf.
“I have had no way to find her, every piece of magic I’ve tried has failed. It’s like they’ve been shrouding her. They must have her under a spell I am not strong enough to crack.”
“Well, magic doesn’t affect scent tracking. So, if she’s here, I may be able to find her. I’m at least going to give it my best shot. I promise.”
***
I had a plan to find my mother. It was one thing to check off on the list of impossible tasks. So, the next day I decided to give the endless research a bit of a break.
Being in Ireland was truly a once in a lifetime opportunity and I didn’t know when I was going to make it back there again.
So, instead of heading straight to the archives to pick up where I’d left off, I bought a ticket for a hop on/hop off bus tour around the city.
It was perfect, letting me explore everything the city had to offer at my own pace.
The bus took me to a lot of the city’s highlights I might otherwise have missed. I made it to the Guinness Storehouse, but given the fact that I still didn’t want to drink, the experience there was pretty limited.
I saw the Christ Cathedral Church, the oldest building in the city. It was breathtaking, to say the very least. Even in the grey light of the cloudy afternoon. If I had thought the outside was impressive, it didn’t even compare to the interior. The tall, lofty, arched ceilings, the beautiful stained-glass portraits, the intricate, tiled floors. The entire building was a work of art and I stood in awe of it. Before I left, I lit a candle and for the first time since I’d arrived in the city, I prayed.