The Silent Goddess: The Otherworld Series Book 1 (12 page)

“Because Finn is one of the few people in the Otherworld I would trust with my life,” he stated simply.

“Wait I thought you were immortal?” Kat interjected.

“Even an immortal isn’t immortal,” Griffin said his eyes never leaving Duncan’s.  “Even the Sidhe have a weakness.

“Finn?” Robert whispered weakly.

“Yes that Finn,” Duncan said with emphasis.  “Finn never could pass up a pretty face.  My own mother included.” He added.

At that Robert’s head snapped up “We’re- we’re brothers?”  Robert stuttered.

Duncan nodded, “Yes, Finn was, is a great warrior the Sidhe have always shown favor to his offspring.  My tale is old but yours is just beginning.  You can either accept you lineage or not.  I cannot say it is an easy choice.  He does leave rather large footprints.  But his offspring do tend to leave their own mark,” he admitted with a slight wince.

“How so?” Robert asked with suspicion in his eyes.

“Have you ever heard of Oisin?” Duncan asked.

“O’sheen,” Griffin repeated trying to recall the name.

“Yeah, I think so.  Why does that name sound so familiar?” Robert asked.

Duncan waited for them to puzzle it out.  It was Kat who found the answer first.  “That’s the story Annie’s father used to tell her all the time.  I remember because one night, over a very large bottle of wine,” she added for reference.  “She told me the story and how messed up she thought it was.  You have to understand,” she said turning to Duncan.  “Girls of our generation grew up with Disney princesses.  A handsome prince, the happily ever after bit; the tale of Oisin has the potential to end that way but doesn’t. 

“No it does not,” Duncan agreed.

“I don’t know that story,” Robert said.

“It goes something like this,” Kat began. 

“Finn and his warriors were out and about and this beautiful Faerie rides up to them points at one man in the party and says she is in love with him and she has come to take him to the Otherworld.  He will never grow sick, he will never die and they can be together forever.”  Kat wiggled in her chair and paused to take a sip of her beer.  “Well of course the guy agrees and goes riding off into the sunset with her.  Happily ever after right?  Wrong!” She yelled then winced when a couple of other patrons focused on their small group.  Kat mouthed and apology to the surrounding tables before continuing.

“After a while Oisin gets bored and he misses Finn and his adventures and wants to visit him for just a little while promising to return.  So the Faerie princess gives Oisin a horse and warns him not to get off. So once the fool gets back do you know what happens?”

“He gets off his horse,” Robert said enthralled with tale.

“Actually I think he falls of the horse or something,” Kat said waving her hands like it’s an insignificant part of the tale.  “Anyways he like ages instantly.  Now he’s like three hundred years old.  Finn is no more and he is brought old and broken to Saint Patrick.  Who he tells all about Finn and his lost love and how stupid he was yada, yada, yada.”

“So then what happens?” Robert asks

“Nothing, zip, nada the guy dies and that’s it.  See what I mean no happy ending.  Who tells their kid a story like that?”  Kat said slamming her hand on the table as she polished off the rest of her beer.

“A father who wants his daughter to remember something right O’sheen?” Griffin said staring at Duncan.

“Perhaps,” Duncan admitted still uneasy about such and obvious truth.

“Why is he calling you Oisin, Duncan?”  Kat asked the look on her face changing from confusion to understanding.  “Are you Oisin?” she demanded.

“Like all legends the story holds a kernel of truth,” he replied.

“That’s not really an answer is it?” Griffin challenged.

“No,” Duncan admitted.  “I suppose it is really not.”  But only Duncan was aware of the truth, the real truth behind the legend; and he was just about to explain the real story when Annie burst through the door.  Her eyes were frantic; her hair windblown, escaping in tendrils of golden red that feel around her face which was flushed with excitement.  She spotted her friends and rushed over to their table.

“You guys are never gonna believe what I saw,” she exclaimed.

Duncan shot to his feet scanning the windows for any sign of danger.  When he saw none he slowly sank into his seat; but not before Griffin’s eyes noticed his defensive posture.

              As he glanced at the other man Duncan noticed Griffin relax a quick look crossed his face, and in that moment Duncan knew any doubts he may have had about him had vanished.  Duncan had earned the trust of the protector.

“What? What did you see?” Duncan heard Robert ask Annie.  His eyes remained fixed on Griffin, who nodded slightly at Duncan before turning his attention on Annie.

Annie had ignored Robert’s question opting to instead grab the fullest beer on the table; which happened to be Duncan’s and down it in one long swallow.  By this time Kat was bouncing excitedly in her seat.  Annie held up a finger asking silently for a moment to finish Duncan’s beer.  When she finished every last drop in the glass she slammed the glass down on the table and called for another round.  Stealing a chair from a neighboring table she quickly fell into the chair.

“I saw Giles Corey’s ghost,” she announced to the table.

The entire table let out a horrified gasp.  Duncan was the only one who failed to grasp the significance of Annie’s declaration.

Four sets of disbelieving eyes locked onto Duncan as he innocently asked “Who is Giles Corey?”

Chapter Nine

The Legend of Giles Corey

“Only a portend of death,” Robert said in awe his gaze flicking nervously around the table.

“Robert,” Griffin growled his voice issuing a warning.

Robert ignored him.  “What I’m just saying what we all are thinking.”

“No,” corrected Kat.  “You’re just picking the scariest legend.”

Annie ignored her friends as their debate raged on, their voices all mingled together.  She needed another drink.  She got the bartender’s attention and silently ordered more drinks for the table.  She shifted in her seat to turn back to the table and noticed Duncan was watching her. Something in his gaze made her stomach flip and her heart began to beat wildly in her chest.  She opened her mouth to say something, but he beat her to it, his words were quiet, spoken so softly that she had to concentrate hard to hear them above the noisy bar.

“Who is Giles Corey
mo chroi
?”

She heard a loud clunk as a glass was placed down, hard, in front of her.  She ignored the waitress who gave her a nasty look, Annie ignored her friends sitting now silently around her; she ignored everything but that voice and those last words.  His eyes locked on to hers and no matter how hard she tried she could not look away from the storm raging in those eyes.  Her mouth went dry.  She blindly reached for her glass, took a long swallow, and replaced it on the table.  Her tongue darted quickly across her lips.  His eyes dropped to her mouth effectively breaking the staring contest.

“He’s a ghost, a legend,” she said finding her voice now that his eyes had released hers.  His eyes lingered on her mouth.  “He was accused of witchcraft in 1692 but refused to speak so,” she said pausing to wet her dry lips again.  Annie couldn’t be sure but she swore she heard a soft groan escape Duncan.  She tried hard to ignore it.  She turned away from him finding it easier to focus on her words if she stared at anything else; she settled on the wet ring her beer glass left on the table.

“They pressed him to death,” Robert finished for her.  Annie didn’t try to hide her snicker.  Robert hated silence and anything left unfinished, especially if he could be the one to end it.  He had a bad habit of spoiling a good joke or in this case a good story.  “More weight,” he croaked dramatically.  Annie chuckled at Robert’s theatrics.

“He looked so real,” she said more to herself than to anyone else.

“How so?” Duncan asked.

She wanted to look at him, badly, but she refused to allow her eyes to move.  Her mind drifted back to the tour.  Most of the walk had been uneventful.  The group had been small, the questions had been few; and Annie was beginning to think she had dodged a bullet by getting a quick and easy ghost tour.  There was just one stop left, the Howard Street Cemetery.  There were two cemeteries on the tour the Old Burying Point had never bothered her.  It was peaceful with its big ancient trees and graveled paths.  At one point the ocean used to lap against the stonewall that encircled the graveyard.  Annie had always imagined it would have been a beautiful spot to be laid to rest. The Howard Street Cemetery was different.  It was newer, like a constant reminder of death.  At some point a jail had been erected adjacent to the cemetery, a jail, which if rumors were true, had been a place of unspeakable horrors.  The area reeked of evil and darkness, and it all traced back to Giles Corey.

Giles Corey had not been a hero of the witch trials.  He had seen an opportunity and allowed his greed to rule his destiny.  He had been a powerful and wealthy man; but even with all that power he had not been immune to the witch hunters.  First to fall was his wife; he did nothing to stop them, refusing to speak on her behalf at her trial.  He had too much to lose on the earthly plane to try and save her soul, so the hangman took her.  When the accusations turned against him he refused to enter a plea and was ordered pressed until he would offer one.

Even with all that weight pressing down on his frail elderly body he refused to speak.  As stone after stone was place upon him he remained mute.  Before the stone that would take his life was placed on his chest he muttered a curse, placing it on the sheriff who over saw his torture.

“You and those after you shall choke on your own blood as death and the devil takes you to hell!”
  Then, he said the more famous words:
“more weight.”

His curse worked, weeks later the sheriff was dead after choking on his own blood.  Ever since then Salem had never been able to keep a sheriff in office as all of them seemed to die in a similarly bizarre way.  All this had occurred on the plot of land where the Howard Street Cemetery now stood.

Annie had relayed the same tale to her tour.  She remembered the cold chill that had raced up her spine as one of the tourists gasped and pointed.  Annie’s eyes had moved in that direction and what she saw had left her cold and terrified.  Fifty feet away stood the small stooped figure of a balding old man.  His long thinning hair stuck to his skeletal like face his eyes the seemed to…

“Glow,” Annie whispered shaking her head.  “His eyes they seemed to glow like embers.  He just stood there looking at us.  He had something in his hands; I couldn’t see what it was at first.”  She remembered the tourists snapping pictures.  Her eyes blinked rapidly at all the flashing and clicking, then she saw it.  “It was a hat.  He just stood there. The group was snapping pictures then he-“ Annie’s voice trailed off.

“What did he do Annie?”  Duncan’s voice questioned.

“He pointed at me and smiled,” Annie said shivering.

“Wow!” Robert gushed.  “I can’t believe you saw him.”

“What does it mean?”  Duncan asked the table.

“Depends on who you ask,” Griffin said answering him.  “Some say he comes to warn the town of impending disaster.”

“And the others?”

Annie sat mute.  She refused to answer.  She might not believe in curses or legends, before tonight she didn’t believe in ghosts, but she would not give voice to the other legend behind a spectral visit from Giles Corey.  She flashed a look at Robert and willed him to be quiet with a look.  His mouth had been open, she had seen the words on his tongue, but thankfully he got the hint and remained silent.  She cast a quick look around the table.  Everyone stayed silent and Annie let out a small sigh of relief.

“Enough about ghosts,” she said smacking the table hard enough to make everyone jump.  “Kat why don’t you go get us another round?” she asked.  “I’m tired of Mandy and her nasty looks and hooker shirt,” Annie said going for levity but instead she sounded petty and jealous.

Duncan leaned close to her and lowering his voice so only she could hear whispered in her ear.  “There is only one woman here who holds my attention and it is not the bar wench.”  Annie turned her face slightly so she could study Duncan out of the corner of her eye.  Did he mean it? She wondered silently.  “And you will tell me what else a visit from that specter means.”  That he definitely meant.

Griffin cleared his throat.  “Come on Robert let’s help Kat.”  When Robert tried to protest Griffin put a meaty hand on his neck and squeezed until Robert got the hint.   The two men walked away leaving Duncan and Annie alone.

Suddenly Annie was very nervous, and it had nothing to do with curses and ghosts. He was still looking at her and she refused to be caught staring at his face like a love sick girl.  Instead she shook her head.  The beer was starting to catch up with her.  The shaking of her head seemed to have released some of the tension allowing the alcohol to take over.

“I don’t understand you,” she said slowly turning her head to search for her friends.  The three of them stood huddled together at the bar.  Kat seemed to sense her looking and scowled back at her while sending silent hand signals that she could not understand.

“I think she wants you to pay attention to me,” Duncan explained.  “Why don’t you tell me more about this Giles Corey?” he asked.

“No,” Annie snapped.  She turned around and looked everywhere but at him.  She settled for the large window that looked out on to Essex Street.  The sun had long ago set but the night was still waking up.  Couples strolled arms interlocked, or hands entwined as they tried to decide what to do next.  Annie tried to concentrate on the world outside but the presence of the strange man sitting next to her kept trying to draw her attention back to him.  He so sat close to her but still so distant.  He was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees; his hands locked together, his eyes riveted to her face.

Emboldened by liquid courage she reached out to touch him, to test a theory that had been pestering the deeper parts of her mind.  He jerked away like her hands were made of fire.

“You are filled with pretty words.  One moment whispering the most amazing things; things, I might add no man actually says,” she said turning now to face him.  He reacted by shoving his chair further away from her.  The action hurt in ways she couldn’t understand.  She allowed her frustration to drip poison on her tongue.  “I am tired of being played.  One minute you seem to be coming on to me and the next you are jumping away like I might burn you.”  She stood up pushing away from the table and away from him.

“Stay,” he said reaching a hand out to her.  “Please don’t leave me again.”

She felt her resolve crumple threatening to melt away completely by the raw anguish that laced his words.  Her body swayed as she closed her eyes and heard his voice echoing in her head,
“Please don’t leave me again.”
  The words pushed and pulled at her.  Something, no someone was begging her to remember.  That distant yet distinct feeling that she had known him before, that she should remember him now was banging loudly inside her.  The noise grew louder, drawing her outside of herself.  Her eyes fluttered open she could still hear the banging as her eyes refocused on her surroundings.  The banging persisted.  She quickly realized that the banging was coming from outside the pub.  A small strange looking man was trying to get Duncan’s attention.

“Someone you know?” Annie asked him pointing towards the window.

Duncan’s head snapped towards the window.  Whoever was out there caused him to mutter what Annie could only guess was a curse.  The small hairy man waved vigorously at him beckoning him outside.  Annie watched as the stranger’s frantic motions stopped when Duncan held a hand up and nodded.

“I’m sorry I have to talk to him,” he sad to Annie not turning around.

Untimely interruptions seemed to be constantly separating them right when it seemed most inconvenient. 

A part of her wanted him to walk out that door and not come back; another smaller part feared that was exactly what he would do.  He started to move towards the door without another word.  His retreat left her feeling lost, confused and very afraid.

“I never left you,” she said in a voice not quite her own.  The words had just tumbled out of her mouth.  She clapped both hands over her mouth in shock.  Where had that come from?

Duncan’s head whipped around and he strode over to her in two long quick strides.  In that moment Annie swore he was going to reach out to her, grab her, hold her, kiss her; something hell any kind of physical contact.  She felt her body tense in anticipation and then quickly deflate as he stopped suddenly mere inches from her.  She felt the disappointment on her face.

“Annie,” he whispered hoarsely.  When she refused to look up at him he tried again in his native tongue, “
Mo chroi
.”  

Her eyes moved on their own accord, her head tipping back so she could look up at him.  When her eyes finally found his he spoke again.  “Please stay here.  I’ll be but a moment.”  She found her head nodding, at that moment she felt she would agree to anything he asked of her.  “I promise when I return I will explain everything,” he vowed his eyes burning into hers.  His head dipped down slowly towards hers.  Her lashes lowered and then he was gone.

A heavy weight lifted off her chest and settled in her stomach.  She sucked in a ragged breath as the noise, or lack thereof, filtered back into her consciousness.  She glanced warily around the pub and noticed everyone was staring at her.  She felt her face catch on fire with embarrassment.  She took another calming breath and pleaded with her heart to return to its normal pace.  When she was sure she had regained her composure she sought out her friends who were still huddled at the bar.  She stalked over to them raising a hand to silence any questions they might have asked.

“Get me a shot of whiskey,” she ordered the bartender.  After a moments hesitation he jumped to fill her order.  He placed the small glass In front of her and she reached out to grab it amazed at how steady her hand was.  She raised the glass to her lips and with one quick motion pushed the contents down her throat.  She closed her eyes relishing the burning trail of fire as it fell down her throat and settled in her stomach.  When she opened her eyes the world was spinning.  Satisfied that she was truly drunk she slammed the glass back down on the bar.  She glanced over at her friends who stared at her in mute shock

“What?” she barked at them.