Shadowmagic - Sons of Macha (25 page)

She smiled and kissed me on the cheek. ‘You can find me at the tea shop when your money arrives.' As she walked away she said over her shoulder, ‘Good night, Prince Conor.'

I had had a wonderful night and that was the problem. I felt guilty. I shouldn't have been out having fun while my friends were in jail and I was no closer to figuring out how to help them or get back to The Land. I spent half the night staring at the ceiling trying to figure out what to do and awoke no closer to a solution.

After another soda-bread-filled breakfast, I spent most of the next day watching the comings and goings of the vet office/police station. My only hope was that these people were stupid enough to leave this place unguarded so I could just walk in and break out my pals. But I guess that the rule – prisoners must be guarded – had made it even to the west coast of Ireland.

Since I didn't have any money to pay her back, I had meant to stay away from Maeve's tea house but by about four in the afternoon loneliness and, if I'm honest, hunger forced me to swallow my pride and see her. I confessed that I still had no money. When I started to go she commanded me to sit and brought me sandwiches and tea.

‘I'll add it to your bill.'

She then invited me to a pub that night to meet her friends. When I said no she said, ‘Tonight is my treat.' I said I'd try and went back to the B&B.

I had no intention of going. Along with feeling guilty for taking advantage of the poor girl, I also thought meeting a bunch of people seemed like a bad idea. After all, I was spending my days casing out a police station trying to plan a jail break. I'm pretty sure that when you are about to commit a huge felony, one should keep a low profile. But the bored lonely guy talked the rational soon-to-be felon out of it and I showed up at the pub. It was busy in there. At the corner of the bar were a water jug and some glasses so I helped myself to a glass of water so I wouldn't look too out of place. There were lots of young people around but Maeve wasn't there. I guess I had waited too long to make up my mind. I was about to leave when she walked in.

‘Oh, I hope you haven't been waiting all this time.' She was a bit flushed like she had been running.

‘No, I just got here.'

‘Oh good, sorry I'm late. My father had a guest over for dinner and I had to eat with them.'

‘I'm sorry to pull you away.'

‘Don't be. The guy was such a drip. You'd think an FBI man would be interesting, wouldn't you?'

I started choking on my water but managed to calm down quickly enough to ask, ‘Your father's guest is an American FBI agent?'

‘Yes, can you imagine?'

‘And what does your father do?'

‘He's a policeman.'

It took all of my will to keep a calm exterior. ‘And do you remember the FBI man's name?'

‘I'm not sure I do. I didn't like him much … It was an Italian name.'

‘Was it Agent Murano?'

‘Yes. How did you know that?'

‘Ah … I … think I met him today. You know, walking around town.'

‘Is he here because of you?'

My heart pounded in my chest. I looked around to see where the nearest exit was. ‘Me?'

‘Yes. Do you think the FBI is here to investigate your lost wallet?' She laughed and asked me what I would like to drink.

‘I … actually, Maeve, I have been waiting a long time and I don't feel very well. I really have to go.'

I knew I wouldn't be able to sustain small talk so I unceremoniously left. As I was walking away I heard her shout after me, ‘Conor,' but I kept going. I needed to think.

Back in the B&B I really didn't feel well. This was a serious mess. I wondered how the hell I could get out of it. I went through all sorts of scenarios, including putting my finger in my pocket and pretending I had a gun. I finally settled on watching tomorrow until there was only one person in the station and then attacking with a banta stick. This worried me. We were in the real world and hitting people with sticks could kill them, but I had to get Essa and Brendan out of there before they were moved to a bigger city – or worse, extradited back to the USA. With a plan, of sorts, I placed my head on the pillow and managed sleep. I used to complain how my nights were dreamless in the Real World but it didn't bother me this night.

I heard the bedroom door as it closed. By then it was too late. I opened my eyes to the sight of an Irish policeman aiming a taser at my forehead.

‘My daughter told me you were staying here.'

‘Honest, sir,' I said, staring cross-eyed at the needles of the taser, ‘I didn't even kiss her.'

He backed up and sat in a chair. I sat up in bed.

‘Where did you come from?'

‘Scranton, Pennsylvania.'

The policeman looked casually at the weapon in his hand. ‘I had never actually seen one of these things fire before your friend got it in the chest the other day. He said it was very painful.'

‘I really am from Scranton.'

‘I didn't ask you where you were from, I asked where you came from. My chief and your FBI have already checked and Detective Fallon didn't enter Ireland on his passport. So how did you get here and where did you come from?'

I dropped back into the bed and spread my arms wide. ‘Shoot,' I said.

‘Come again?'

‘Shoot me. If I tell you the truth you won't believe me. In fact, if I tell my story around here you'll probably think I was making fun of you. So shoot me and get it over with.'

‘Before I shoot you, Mr O'Neil … You are Conor O'Neil, yes?'

‘Yeah,' I said. Denying it at this point would have been stupid.

‘I may believe more than you think. Have you noticed what language we are speaking?'

I hadn't, not really. Because my father is a tyrannical linguist, it's normal for me to just drop into the language that is being spoken to me. Connemara is a gaeltacht, which means that a lot of people around here speak modern Irish. I had impressed a few of the locals by simply chatting to them in their language. But as I thought back on the nice chat me and the armed policeman were having, I realised we weren't speaking Irish, we were talking in ancient Gaelic. ‘Where did you learn this language?'

‘My parents taught it to me. I also have read all of your father's published work on pronunciation. I've always wondered where he got his insight. But I am not here to answer your questions. You are here to answer mine. How did you get here and from where?'

‘Could I pee first?'

‘H
ow about I shoot you with this, you'll definitely pee yourself then.'

‘OK, OK, I came from Tir na Nog. Detective Fallon, Essa and I arrived two days ago by way of ley-lines that intersect at the Fairy Fingers.'

The cop lowered his gun. ‘Mick O'Hara said the last thing he remembered was passing the Fairy Fingers.'

‘Is that the old guy we stole the cart from?'

‘It is.'

‘Yeah, sorry about that. Is he OK?'

The policeman laughed. ‘He's fine. I don't recommend apologising to him in person. Not unless you want your ears ripped off.'

‘I really could use that pee now.'

‘One more question and maybe I'll let you relieve yourself. Are you from the House of Luis?'

OK, speaking ancient Gaelic is one thing but using Ogham made it almost unnecessary for me to walk to the bathroom for that pee. ‘What do you know of Luis?'

The cop looked me hard in the eyes; it felt like the look a poker opponent has when he is deciding to bluff or not. ‘I want to know if I'm speaking to a Fili.'

‘What do you know of the Fili?'

‘Are you Fili?' he said raising his taser again.

‘No.'

He stood and walked menacingly towards me. ‘What is your house?'

‘Duir,' I said with a pride that surprised me.

‘Well, I wouldn't want it be said that the first Faerie I met wet himself.' The policeman pocketed his gun and gestured towards the door. I got up and threw on a pair of trousers. As I reached the door he said, ‘If you try to escape I'll find you, and if that happens I'll have to hand you over to Special Agent Murano. We wouldn't want that, would we?'

There was a window in the bathroom and I could have escaped that way if I wanted to, but he was right. Where would I go? The only plan I had come up with was to either single-handedly attack a police station or wait at the Fairy Fingers until someone came from The Land to see what happened to us. Now that I was busted by this guy I couldn't do the former and I didn't have time to wait around for the latter. Besides, this cop intrigued me. Where did he learn all of this stuff? And maybe, just maybe, he was an ally. When he said ‘we' was that just a manner of speech or did he mean ‘we'? If he was an ally, I could really use one right now.

The cop was in the hallway when I returned. ‘You have a name?'

‘Mícheál.'

‘So what now, Officer Mícheál?'

‘Well now, I've persuaded Mrs McDunna to cook me breakfast. Would you care to join me?'

We talked quietly but it didn't matter. I'm sure there were very few people around that could decipher a language that no one had spoken for several millennia.

‘Why haven't you turned me over to the FBI?' was my first question.

‘Partly because Murano is an idiot.'

‘He's a sadistic idiot,' I added.

‘That does not surprise me. My daughter took an instant dislike to him. She is usually a very good judge of character.'

‘She likes me.'

That drew a stern look. ‘Don't push it, O'Neil.'

‘Sorry.'

‘Now, tell me what you are doing here.'

‘If I do,' I said, ‘and you don't like what you hear, are you going to arrest me?'

‘That depends whether I like what I hear or not.'

‘My father is the Lord of Duir.'

‘Your father is Finn?'

I was shocked again at his knowledge of The Land. I needed to be careful what I said to this guy. ‘No, that was my grandfather but he is dead. My father, the one that the FBI and everyone in Scranton thinks I killed, is the new King of Duir.'

Mícheál took all of this in his stride. He wasn't incredulous at all. In fact, he increasingly looked eager for more news. ‘This still doesn't explain why you are here.'

‘The Land is at war. I came here to get something that will help us in the upcoming battle.'

‘What?'

‘Before I answer, can I ask you a question?'

‘I suppose you deserve some questions answered.' He nodded yes.

‘Why did you call your daughter Maeve?'

‘When she was born she cried all the time for the first month of her life, it was maddening. There was nothing we could do to appease her. Every hour of the day when she wasn't eating or sleeping she was shrieking. My wife said if she was going to be this much trouble we might as well name her after the biggest troublemaker of all.'

I thought back to the conversation I had had with Nora and said, ‘You're a Druid, aren't you?'

Mícheál snickered at that. ‘Druids are misguided hippies who go barefoot and wear woolly robes.'

‘But you're not that kind of Druid, are you?'

His false smile vanished. ‘No.'

‘You know where your ancestors came from and you know why they had to leave.'

‘I have been told that we were banished because we followed a sorceress that had the same name as my daughter.'

Here was the moment of truth – this was the moment where I had to decide whose side he was on. It wasn't a hard decision; without his help I was sunk. ‘Queen Maeve is back and if you don't help us she will destroy every tree in Tir na Nog to fuel her lust for power.'

The garda sat back in his chair and placed his hand to his cheek like he had been slapped. Finally he said, ‘Many of us thought this day would come and we have debated what to do.'