Read The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1) Online
Authors: D.S. Elstad
I swallowed hard at the thought of disappearing
into complete oblivion. “Wow, so much for any fringe benefits on this
job,” I said, looking up at Bram.
Aaron shrugged his shoulders. “I guess it’s Lughs
way of ensuring his gifts are used only for what he created them for.” He
then stood up and refilled his coffee cup for about the tenth time.
Kelleigh excused herself and left to help
her parents get ready for dinner. They were nice enough to invite Bram
and Aaron, and Dad and myself, over to have a good-bye dinner with them and
Eagan.
Bram and I joined Quinn on the other side of the
table.
“Do you want to give it a go?” asked Quinn,
tossing his pendant into the air.
Bram caught it mid-air and handed it back to
Quinn. “Not after that bedtime story, no, I don’t, and you shouldn’t
either.”
Quinn glared at his friend, then joined Aaron for
a cup of coffee.
I sat with Bram rehashing all the things we’d just
discussed, feeling more in control over my fate and future. It was
comforting to know that Bram was as close as reciting a passage and stepping
through a doorway. Aaron seemed confident that there wouldn’t be any more
attacks from the Fomorians anytime soon, and that we had done substantial
damage to them by destroying Carissa.
“It will take them years to replace her, not to
mention restore their own energy and replace the creatures that do their dirty
work. No, I don’t think we have anything to fear from them for a long
time,” Aaron theorized as he began to pick up the piles of papers and place
them in their folders.
I flashed on the faces of the human Fomorians and
cringed at the thought of Cyril and the power he possessed. The thought
of him brought up one last question.
“Aaron, one more thing…” I began.
Aaron sat down across from me. “Shoot,” he
replied.
“Cyril…and my dad. How do you explain
that? He was the spitting image of my father and the other strange thing
was, as we stood there watching them plan to take the Eye, Carissa and Corman
looked familiar to me as well. I felt sure I’d seen them before,
somewhere.” I rubbed the side of my head in an effort to jar something
that might help me remember where I recognized them from.”
“They did look familiar, Da,” Bram added.
Aaron stood and began pacing, then opened one of
his folders and spread the pages out on the table. After a couple of
minutes he grabbed a sheet.
“Ah ha, I knew I’d read something in all of this
that mentioned what you’re talking about. It says here that the Fomorians
are so hungry for an earthly existence that they will take on the
characteristics of a human who had died.” Aaron raised his face and
looked into my eyes. “The only way they’re able to take on those
characteristics is by ending the human’s life.”
I frowned, unclear of what Aaron was saying. “But…
Cyril didn’t kill my Dad,” I responded, hesitantly.
“No, no, he didn’t, but it must have been him who
killed your uncle, Jack’s twin brother, Joseph.”
I shook my head no. “But Aaron, Joseph was only
six years old and died after he fell into the lake and was dragged off by
something… not someone.”
Aaron took off his glasses and furrowed his brow.
“Cyril most likely was in animal form at that time. The Fomorians go
through a type of reincarnation, transforming themselves from one being to
another until they reach their ultimate human form. Since Cyril was the
Fomorian who ended Joseph’s life that day, he basically was able to steal his
DNA and become a kind of replicate of Joseph, at any age. He took on his
adult characteristics, which just so happened to be exactly the same as your
father’s.”
I bit my lip in understanding. It made
sense. Dad and Joseph were identical twins.
“That explains Willow’s Dad; but what about
Carissa? She looked really familiar too,” Bram asked.
Aaron once again went to his stack of folders and
pulled out the one that had copies of photos and drawings of past
guardians. He handed a stack to me and one to Bram. “Join us here,
Quinn,” he said as he held another stack in the air for Quinn to look over.
We shuffled through our respective piles of
portraits when Quinn suddenly stopped. “Blimey, I’d recognize that face
anywhere, after the way she tossed me around,” he said, tapping Bram on the
arm. Bram nodded his head and looked at me. Quinn turned the
picture to face me. It was an extremely old photograph from the late
1800’s. The woman in the portrait was an exact match to Carissa.
Aaron took hold of the photocopied picture and
went to the safe. He opened it and carefully flipped through the stack of
portraits. When he came to the original photo he flipped it over.
“Well, I’ll be…” he exclaimed.
“What is it?” Quinn and I asked at the same
time.
He returned to where we sat at the table and laid
the picture down in front of us. “This is Agnes ó Cuilinn, Lucy’s great grandmother.
Lucy said she died of a heart condition.”
“A heart condition… well, we know what brought
that on, don’t we,” said Bram as he held the picture up.
“So then Carissa was the one to do away with
Lucy’s great grandmother and absorb her DNA. They each had taken on the traits
of whoever they killed; no wonder they all looked familiar. Except the
knight. We never did get a look at his face,” Quinn said, handing the
picture back to Aaron.
Aaron picked up all the paperwork and returned it
to the safe before joining us at the table. “So you see, the odds of the
Fomorians coming back anytime soon aren’t very good. They literally have
to start all over, first drawing enough energy to raise Carissa in creature
form, then finding a human for her. The whole process would take…I don’t
even want to venture a guess on how long. Let’s just say, it would take a
very
long time.”
I rested my head on Bram’s shoulder and pulled
Grandma’s old map out of my pocket. I held it out in front of myself,
lost in random thoughts, while Quinn, Aaron, and Bram spoke more about what we
had accomplished and what might lie ahead.
Bram grabbed hold of my hand and looked at the
map. “What’s this?” he asked.
I explained to him where I found the map and Uncle
Eagan’s translation of aisling. Aaron looked over. “May I?”
I handed him the map.
“Eagan said the spot circled is the same area
where I was lost…the first night I changed.” I pointed out the area on
the map.
“It certainly is, and I’d venture to guess it’s
the same area where Shannah first changed seeing as how she referred to it as
the
forest of her aisling
, meaning her dreams. Just like
you.” Aaron handed me the map and smiled. “Rather a nice memento of
your grandma, yes?”
“Very nice,” I answered and carefully folded up
the map, tucking it safely in my shirt pocket next to the Triquetra hanging
around my neck.
The three continued talking so I laid my head on
Bram’s shoulder again and closed my eyes, losing myself in the rhythm of their
words, and feeling safe…and happy to be surrounded by my Irish family.
Standing on the balcony of our hotel room, I
stared up into the cloudy skies and flashed rapidly on so many things, my mind
felt like a movie that had gone out of control. I shook my head and
returned to our room, staring at the last few pieces of clothing I needed to
pack. I threw them in the bag and sat on top of the suitcase in order to
clamp it shut and lock it. I threw my phone on top of the luggage and
then grabbed my backpack shoving in the map that I’d found in Grandpa’s
basement. I’d yet to share it with Dad and thought I’d show it to
him on the long flight home.
We’d gone to the small funeral that Eagan had
arranged for Grandpa and then to the cemetery to watch him be lowered into the
ground next to Grandma. I had no tears. In fact, I felt little
emotion; I was almost numb. The whole thing seemed so surreal. Two
funerals within days of each other. Two complete strangers who suddenly
became as much a part of my life as anyone I’d ever known. But
there I stood, in the cool, early morning dampness, saying good-bye to Shannah
and Conor, the grandparents I’d always wondered about.
My other good-byes were said the night before at
the dinner we had with Quinn and Kelleigh’s parents, along with Uncle Eagan, Bram,
and Aaron. It was an awesome evening filled with delicious food,
wonderful Irish music, and the best company anyone could ever ask for.
Uncle Eagan entertained us all with stories from his and Grandpa’s childhood,
and teased his son John unmercifully about Dad being his real son.
My favorite part of the evening was when Eagan and
Kelleigh took to the piano and played Irish ballads, singing and shouting out
the words for us to join along. Bram grabbed my hand at one point, led me
near the piano where he could feel the vibration from it on the floor, and spun
me around, dancing to the lighthearted tunes. It felt fantastic to be
involved in such a happy and natural event after all the drama and chaos of the
days before.
I looked around the small hotel room that had been
home to so many emotions and happenings that they all seemed much too big for
such a small space. I grabbed my phone and stepped back out onto the
balcony, and watched in awe as the sun broke through the clouds, creating beams
of light that made the sky look like a Michelangelo painting.
I quickly took a picture with my phone, then
looked at the last message I’d received. It was from a few days ago, from
my friend Leah, wondering when I was coming home. I smiled at the thought
of seeing my friends again. I scrolled down to past messages and came
across a few of Bram’s. Funny how we’d gotten to the point where we
didn’t even need to text anymore. Our relationship grew so fast and felt
so right; I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it.
We’d said good-bye the previous night after he
drove me back to the hotel. We spent two hours sitting in the car talking
before we finally made our way to the room. Bram stopped the elevator
between floors and pulled me near, kissing me tenderly. He wrapped his
arms around me in such a way that I wished I never had to open the doors of
that elevator. My heart was pained at the thought of saying
good-bye. I let myself collapse in his arms and took comfort once again
in the rhythmic beating of his heart. He stroked my hair, then pulled
away holding me at arm’s length.
“Willow, I know this is probably crazy, seeing as
how we’ve only known each other a few weeks, but…”
I stared into his eyes and felt my heart skip a
beat in anticipation of his words.
“But?” I repeated.
He looked down to the ground then pulled me closer
again and let out a slight breath.
“Ah hell, I’m just gonna say it…” he whispered.
“Willow…I love you.”
Our eyes locked for an immeasurable amount of
time. I lost myself in the deep tones of his eyes and the echo of his
words. I reached up and stroked his cheek.
“I love you too,” I replied, surprised at how easy
it came out.
He smiled broadly and grabbed hold of me, raising
me in the air and spinning me around. He started to lose his balance and
crashed us both into the side wall, pressing in all the buttons of the
elevator. We started laughing and regained our balance, then made our way
to the room. A dozen more kisses and hugs, then we let go, both feeling
confident in our relationship.
I stood there on the balcony, smiling in
remembrance of our time in the elevator, when a car horn brought me back to the
present. I looked out to the parking lot and saw the familiar little blue
VW, an arm reaching out and waving. I rushed out of the room yelling a
quick
be right back
to Dad and pushed open the hotel lobby doors.
Bram ran up to greet me, his hair all disheveled,
looking like he just rolled out of bed. He grabbed hold of me then hugged and
kissed me again. “I had to come see you off. I couldn’t just let you
leave without seeing you again,” he said breathlessly.
“I’m so glad you did,” I said, wrapping my arms
around his neck.
The hotel lobby door opened and Dad stepped out,
rolling a luggage cart piled with our bags.
“Good morning, Bram,” he signed then nodded at
me. “Sorry to break this up, but it’s time to leave.”
I frowned and turned to Bram. “I’ll send you
a message when I get home,” I said in mindspeak.
“You better,” he teased, then walked me to the
car. We hugged again and he shook hands with Dad.
I climbed into the rental car and rolled my window
down, taking hold of his hand. He held on as Dad started the car up and
made his way from the parking lot to the road. Dad stopped and leaned
down looking out the window at Bram.
“Take care,” he signed.
Bram bent down for one more kiss, then let go of
my hand. We kept our eyes locked on each other as Dad pulled onto the
road. I turned around and stuck my head out the window, waving at him
until we rounded a corner and he fell from my sight.
I sat back against the seat and let the cool air
blow around my face. I closed my eyes and visualized Bram still standing
there.
“I love you,” I sent to him.
“I love you too,” he replied.
I stretched out my arms and legs, taking in the floral
scent of my fabric-softened sheets. I closed my eyes and felt such
intense relaxation from being in my own bed that it made me not want to
move. Breathing in deeply once more, I inhaled the scrumptious aroma of
bacon and blueberry waffles. My eyes shot open and I threw the sheets
back off my legs, covering my grouchy cat Max. He let out a small mew and
quickly jumped from my bed, cutting me off on my way to the kitchen.
“I knew this would get you up,” laughed Mom as she
flipped the pieces of turkey bacon.
I stood beside her and closed my eyes, inhaling
the scent of my favorite breakfast. She reached her hand over and patted
my cheek, then leaned in and put her head against mine.
“I am so glad you’re home. This house gets
really quiet without you two,” she said with a happy lilt to her voice.
We all ate breakfast together and talked about the
upcoming weekend and what we wanted to do with it. Dad was anxious to get
back to work. He’d never been away from the place for so long and, being
as it was his business, felt the need to get back to it right away. I was happy
to have a few days to myself before returning to the daily grind of
school. I really needed time to decompress.
After breakfast I went to my room and unpacked,
throwing my dirty clothes into the hamper. I looked in my closet and felt
like it had been years since I stood there. I pulled out one of my
favorite t- shirts and a pair of jeans and changed. I plopped on my bed
and pulled my backpack to my side, opening it and spreading out its contents.
The necklace from Dad sat nestled in the
velvet box. I smiled as I remembered the day he gave it to me. Some
other trinkets I had accumulated on my trip to Ireland lay scattered on the
bed: pieces of jewelry from Kelleigh, a CD from Quinn, and a garnet bracelet
from Bram. I put the bracelet on my arm and slid it up to my elbow.
I put the CD in my player and listened to the music from the group we had seen
at the club that night Bram and I danced. I slipped on the Celtic knot ring
from Kelleigh and felt connected to the three of them. Laying at the
bottom on my backpack was the rock Mom had painted for me…the one with the
eagle. I held it in the palm of my hand and thought how weird it was that
she painted an eagle.
I reached into my backpack and pulled out
the
Aisling
map from Grandma, along with some of the pictures we’d
brought back with us. When I shared the map with Dad on the flight home,
it stirred up memories of how Grandma would disappear some days, and when she
finally returned she was a mess. Her normally perfect hair was loose and
wild, with twigs in it, and her shoes were muddy along with the rest of her
clothes. He wondered at the time why Conor never pressed her for details
on where she’d been. “All those times…she must have been in the forest,”
he decided.
I sat all the pictures on my dresser where
I’d be able to look at them every day. I then found the letter from
Grandma, the one that had been for my birthday. Stretching out on my bed I
rested my head against my propped-up pillows and opened the letter. I
loved reading her blessing and decided I needed to get to the store and pick up
some frames for all the treasures I’d brought home. I traced the pattern of
Grandma’s handwriting with my index finger and saw there were similarities in
the way we wrote. I found that comforting.
A picture fell away from the others that I had
placed on my dresser, and I reached down to the floor to pick it up. It was of
Shannah and Conor and Dad. Shannah had spoken of Dad in her letter and
hoped they would be able to resolve their problems. It was sad that
Grandma wasn’t around to see Dad and Grandpa reconcile, but I took comfort in
the dream I’d had of them and Joseph and felt sure that she knew.
My phone suddenly began vibrating. My
friends were chomping at the bit to get together and hear about Ireland.
Mom agreed to their coming over, but only after she had me to herself for a
little while.
After breakfast and unpacking, Mom suggested we go
check out the gallery where her paintings hung on display. They looked
amazing. She said some art reviewers had compared her to R.C. Gorman, a
Native American artist, and that had her beaming. She was so excited because
two of them had sold already. I felt really happy and proud of her.
This was something she had worked on for such a long time and to now see her
dream realized was inspiring.
After that we went and had lunch at our favorite
café. We talked and talked and I told her all about Bram. She
wanted every little detail about him and the family I’d met there. She
listened attentively and laughed when I told her about Uncle Eagan and Quinn
and Kelleigh. She had fond memories of her short time in Ireland,
especially of Eagan. He really had a way of making an impression on
people.
When I began to talk about the Triquetra and
Fomorians, she suggested we head over to the park and sit there while we
talk. I got the feeling she didn’t want to be overheard, which was ok
with me. She rubbed my back as I relayed the story of the battle with
Cyril and the other three Fomorians, and bit her lip during the more intense
parts. The look of worry faded from her face when I described how Carissa
had disintegrated and Aaron felt sure they’d be no problem… at least not for a
very long time.
Tears welled up in her eyes when I told her about
Joseph and what had happened to him at the lake. She knew Dad had a twin
who had passed away, but other than that, she had been as much in the dark
about Joseph as I was. She stared up at the sky when I explained how
Cyril had been the monster who had killed Joseph, then took on his
characteristics as an adult.
Hours had passed and my voice was cracking from
talking so much. Mom suggested we go home and relax…catch up with Dad and
see how he was doing. We came back to the house to find him sleeping soundly on
the sofa. “Jet lag,” Mom whispered and took my arm, leading me out back to our
patio.
She brought out some iced tea and we sat down
under the covered gazebo.
“So many things happened, Wagmu. I see so
much growth in you in the matter of a few weeks. Your father is very
proud and said you helped him in ways he could never imagine,” she said,
raising her glass to her lips.
“Yeah, now that I’m home it almost seems like a
dream…or nightmare, at least parts of it. It was crazy at times, Mom – so much
going on and you seemed so far away.” I reached my hand out and rested it
on top of hers.
She took hold of my hand and pulled it up to her
cheek. “Ah, Willow. Life in the best situations is confusing and wondrous.
What you have endured is on a whole other plane. You’ve been chosen to be
a part of something extraordinary.” Mom released my hand and leaned
closer. “It seems to me… you have achieved Ihan’bla,” she said quietly,
almost reverently.
I stopped mid-sip and put my glass down.
“The rite of passage?” I asked.
“Yes,” she answered, a smile edging across her
face.
I sat back in my chair and couldn’t help but think
of Grandma and her map and the forest of aisling, the forest of dreams…
visions. I lowered my eyes, recalling Mom’s explanation of Ihan’bla; the vision
quest, where the supernatural world may contact you and advise you in the
natural world. A Lakota ritual we go through, one way or another, that
usually symbolizes a Lakota’s passage into adulthood.
“So does this mean I’m considered an adult
now?” I wondered.
“Well, let’s just say you’re another step closer
to it,” she answered, reaching out and patting my hand.
I sure felt like an adult after everything I’d
been through. I really didn’t feel like the same person I was a month
ago; no way. In fact, the thought of slipping back into the drudgery of
going to school and a lot of the petty drama that filled the halls there wasn’t
sitting well with me. As I sat thinking about Ihan’bla and my passage
into adulthood, a random thought jumped into my brain.
“Awesome, so does that mean I can have a car
now?” Yes, my teenage self was returning.
Mom just snickered and grabbed our glasses.
We went back inside the house and she followed me to my room.
I sat on the floor and rested my back against the
bed. Mom sat down beside me.
“One thing that’s kind of weird though…” I
began.
“What’s that?” Mom asked resting her head against
the bed.
“Aaron couldn’t find anything about my mindspeak
in all the ancient documents. He didn’t find a reference to it
anywhere. He did say though that our powers reveal themselves to us at
different times.” I grabbed hold of Max and began scratching his head
while he purred like an outboard motor.
Mom turned sideways to face me. “I’m
beginning to think not all of your powers came from your father’s side of the
family,” she said, catching me by surprise.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, our people don’t rely on the written record
of things as much as the verbal, meaning that we pass a lot of our family
history through the spoken word.”
“Ok,” I answered, turning sideways so that we now
completely faced each other.
Mom smiled and leaned closer, “I believe that,
because of this, some of our people have developed, well, let’s say extra
talents. In the early days Native people were persecuted, you know
that. Tribes were destroyed and scattered and many of our customs and
practices were lost. All living creatures must evolve in order to exist
on this planet. Change is necessary for continuation. Old
skills that may not have been needed before were called upon in order for us to
survive. One of those skills was, as you call it, mindspeak, a person’s
ability to transfer and read thoughts. Your grandfather, my father, was blessed
with mindspeak.”
An involuntary crease formed across my forehead.
“What? That’s the first I’ve heard of this!” I answered.
Mom shrugged, “There was no reason to speak of it
before, but now, since it’s clear that you’ve inherited the gift, I’ll tell you
what I know. My father first experienced mindspeak when he reached
Ihan’bla, just like you. He didn’t see it as a gift at first and never
spoke of it. When he met my mother and they married, she convinced him it
was something wonderful and that he should be proud of it. Eventually he
was. He rarely used it, though, because he felt it was too great a
temptation. He was a simple man and wanted nothing more than a simple
existence, so he used his gift very rarely.”
I sat back against the bed and released a long
breath. “I can’t believe all these secrets from my grandparents, on both
sides!” I exclaimed. “Anything else I should know?”
Mom smirked and grabbed hold of my hand.
“Well, let’s see…you can shapeshift, you can hear things from great distances,
you can grow, and you can read and transmit thoughts. I think that’s
about enough for you to take in for now, don’t you?” she answered, almost
laughing.
I stared at her, not appreciative of any humor in
the situation, then caught myself thinking. “Wait a minute,” I asked
worriedly, “can you mindspeak?”
Mom was laughing out loud by now and stood
up. She reached down and pulled me to my feet.
“No, Wagmu, I can’t read your thoughts.
You’re safe to deride your old mother mentally,” she chuckled, putting her arm
over my shoulder.
“Now, you better get ready for your friends.
I see your phone lighting up!” She kissed me on the cheek and left me
alone. I had to wonder what other family secrets were hidden in our
closet.
Leah and Sam arrived at my house with a pizza,
Arizona tea, and an abundance of school gossip. We sat on the floor in my
bedroom and listened to the CD Quinn gave me while sharing stories about
Ireland and high school. Their eyes doubled in size when I started to
tell them about Bram, leaving out the shapeshifting, Fomorians, and the
end-of-the-world parts, of course.
“You’re dating a guy from Ireland? How cool
is that?” Sam asked eagerly.
I smiled and grabbed my phone, flipping to the
pictures of Bram. My two friends oohed and ahhed at each and every
picture. I even found myself getting butterflies as I looked at his face,
remembering his kisses.
“He is soooo hot!” Leah chimed, grabbing the phone
and holding it close to her face.
I felt a slight blush come to my cheeks.
“I’ll say,” added Sam. “No wonder you kept
stretching out your trip,” she giggled, punching me on the arm.
I’d decided beforehand that there were a lot of
things I wouldn’t be able to share with my friends but I was more than happy to
disclose my relationship with Bram.
I told them all about his being deaf and how it
didn’t really matter, that we communicated through texting and other
ways. I laughed as I described Quinn and Kelleigh and their love-hate
relationship. It felt so good to just sit back and share this part of my
experience with friends who could really appreciate it.
“Ok, so what else is going on
here
?”
I asked, throwing my pizza crust on the plate.
“Well, Leah went out with Jason,” answered Sam,
shooting her stare to Leah.
Leah chuckled and nodded. “Yep, I did.”
“Aaaannndd…” I asked, encouraging her.
“And, I think he may be the one,” she replied
seriously.
Sam and I broke out laughing at the same
time. If I only had a dollar for every time she said some guy was the
one.
Leah looked hurt and stood up and headed for the
door.
“Wait, Leah!” I ordered. “I’m sorry, it’s
just that, well, you have said that a few times before!” I jumped up and
grabbed hold of her arm and led her back to the floor.