Eire of Aggression Page 11

  9

  The latter part of March was a whirlwind of activities and emotions for Jane. She had many matters and subjects that needed tending to, but managed her time well. Sometimes, the effort of juggling the various activities taxed her reserves and left her drained at the end of a day. At other times, she felt buoyed by all those things that required her attention and met them with energetic zeal. The only thing that both extremes had in common was her smile that usually accompanied them.

  Outside of school, Jane could usually be found in the company of her fella, Mac O'Malley. He'd been introduced to her few close friends who took a liking to his fresh perspectives. Jane also liked to see the envy in their eyes of her landing such a fine thing. She explained Mac's absence of otherwise being seen around the village by saying that he was in the employ of Brody Lynch, who kept him busy.

  Being unused to be able to offer falsehoods - as the Lore itself imposed severe penalties for them while in that realm - Mac let Jane tell the cover story when asked. The lies were simple and Jane had no difficulty or remorse in telling them. That same story was told to Jane's mam and da when they first invited the young courter over to their home for a meal. Jane knew her mam had the truth of it, but played right along with the ruse.

  When Jane fumbled with the lie of Mac being allergic to metal, Cora reinforced the story by mentioning someone she knew who had the same aversion. During the second invitation for Mac to visit the family, Jane began to feel uncomfortable; continuing to lie to her dear da felt like a betrayal of his love and trust. When the next suggestion came to have Mac back over came from Liam, she made the excuse of her fella having a busy schedule to avoid more guilt.

  Back on the evening of Flinn Sweeney's wake, Jane's da and Father Doyle asked if she might sing a tune or two at the Requiem Mass. She was proud to do so, but not because she knew Mister Sweeney; Jane was happy to do a simple favor for men she loved and respected. Jane was surprised how full the church was, but even more so at Father Doyle's announcement after the last scripture was recited.

  Auld Sweeney had asked that a party be thrown with his savings; it was apparently enough that a huge festival was possible. The priest said more information was available at a new website listed in the funeral bulletin, and volunteers were requested to make it a grand affair. Jane thought it odd to see so many smiling faces during a time of mourning, although she was just as thrilled with the news.

  After Flinn Sweeney was finally laid to rest in the village cemetery, Jane and Mac were approached by Brody and Kate. After complimenting Jane's singing, the couple kept their voices hushed when they asked Macklin a number of questions about banshees.

  Jane's fae fella explained that banshees were creatures of the ether, and therefore were mostly unknowable. Banshees did make appearances in both realms, but it was a rare thing. If drawn to an individual for some reason, their wails might be heard just before or at the time of that individual's passing. When asked, Macklin assured everyone present that he'd never known of a banshee to in any way cause a death. Reassured, Jane's sister and her big fella thanked him and moved on.

  It was a handful of days after the funeral that Jane and Macklin sat in one of the village cafes, where she was trying to explain the adverse effects of the contaminated water line for the area. From their window seat, they could see repair crews resealing pavement that had been ripped up to get to a broken section of pipe. Macklin had difficulty understanding the concept of pollutants, so Jane outlined the concept in simple terms before moving on to a different subject.

  Near the end of that luncheon date, Jane received a call from her newest friend, Megan Gorski. The normally calm and soft-spoken girl spoke in a distressed tone and with hurried words. On the verge of panic, Megan explained that her little brother had surprisingly slipped out of their house - something he never did - and couldn't be found. Jane had been told before that Michael's autism left him vulnerable to accidental injury if not in a controlled environment.

  Within ten minutes, she and Mac were at the Gorski home. Less than an hour later, over thirty people were combing the wild fields and woods far behind the house, calling for the boy. Soon enough, Mac picked up a trail no one else noticed and found Michael unharmed down on a creek bed.

  As he was led back to the house, the boy kept pointing behind him and repeated the words, "Play with the lights". It made Jane shiver.

  A few days before Brody and Kate were to fly off to the States, Jane received numerous bulky parcels in the post; her CDs had come from the studio. Since Brody had made it possible, it only made sense to Jane to let him hear it first. Macklin, who had just sent Mix back to guard his Lore holdings, went with her out to the Lynch cottage.

  Kate marveled at the music Jane had made, but pointed out that she sounded even better in live performances. Brody raved over it, promising to have the CD played in the craft shop all the time. He even made mention of looking into having a track or two played on local radio stations, and sending copies off to Dublin and Cork stations that had bigger audiences.

  Sporting a sly grin, Brody also mentioned that Father Doyle would be asking Jane and Mac that night at the pub to perform at the Flinn Festival. She was thrilled and then anxious. Kate gave Jane a reassuring smile, saying that they'd hire the studio musicians from the CD for the event and practices beforehand. During the live show, Mac could simply huddle behind the other players to avoid unexplainably distorted photos. Jane saw the logic in it but thought it was a shame, what with Macklin being so fine.

  On the afternoon of All Fool's Day, Jane went to Hammerworks after school let out to wait for Macklin. He was off bow hunting and agreed to meet her there. Brody and Kate had left that morning to catch their flight out of Shannon, so she only expected Mary Clarke at the shop to visit with.

  Besides a number of tourists fawning over the stone and metal items and art, Mister Rike was there as well. Jane was a little surprised when he greeted her with a smile - she didn't think she'd ever seen him smile before - and called attention to her music softly playing over the sound system.

  Simon, as he asked Jane to call him, also showed her the basket of her CDs that was on sale at the counter. Mary informed her that her singing voice had sparked the interest of many visitors, and that all of the locals were eager for her show at the festival. From the praise given by family and friends, and then Mary's information, Jane began to realize she was becoming a local celebrity. She felt both gratified and humbled by it.

  Apart from all of Jane's activities - school, writing and rehearsing music, helping with the Flinn Fest decorations, and choir practice - there was Macklin. Their time together wasn't like in romance novels, where everything she did was with him in mind. She simply felt more complete in his company. There was obvious attraction, but it was more than that; whereas Jane might think herself as strange for her gift, she felt normal and relaxed with him. Of course, she had friendships and was comfortable with them, but never was able to be completely open and honest. With Macklin there was a freedom - and desire - that held her fascination.

  Despite her infatuation, Jane was also beginning to realize the disparity between herself and Macklin. In some regards, there were vast differences in what each generally knew and what they wanted. While Jane had plans and attainable goals, albeit vague thus far, Macklin had no driving ambitions whatsoever other than staying true to his oaths. She had hopes and dreams; his world was a dream, but not necessarily one she'd envisioned being a part of. The situation was far from perfect, but both agreed that they had youth and optimism on their sides. Time would tell.

  Jane spent her weekends and most afternoons with her refreshing Fair fae, whether playing music, discussing the Lore and his life there, or losing track of time while snogging. There were intimate and steamy moments when she nearly gave into temptation. The intimacy between Jane and Macklin was growing incrementally more passionate, but he was patient with her anxiety of going further. Her virginity was still intact, although she
was forming plans for that to change. That Jane's first time would be with a savage sidhe was something she had no way to anticipate.

  The day after Jane visited Hammerworks, her focus on her classes suffered from all the ideas for lyrics that kept coming to mind. It was nothing new, but she knew she'd have to buckle down soon enough for her leaving cert in June. She told herself that after she spent an hour or two with Macklin that day, she'd compile all her current scribbles and then focus on her lessons... probably.

  As her last class was nearest to the exit doors for the car park, Jane nearly sprinted - as she always did lately - and was out of the building well ahead of any other student when the last bell sounded. She expected to see her fella out across the school grounds leaning against her little Fiat as he usually was, and he didn't disappoint.

  However, this time Macklin had no visual manifestation, only able to be seen by her Lore-touched eyes and thus invisible to anyone else. The handsome fae was dressed in his high boots, blue and black tartan, and dark medieval shirt. His black hair was thicker and longer, and his ocean eyes were vivid even from a distance. Instead of those eyes gazing in her direction, though, they were scanning the threatening clouds above.

  Jane, confused and worried all at once, faltered and stopped to look up as well. She was both interested and afraid of what he might be searching for, but her curiosity won out and she kept her place. She immediately saw an avian shape coming in low and alarmingly fast over the trees behind Macklin. It looked to be a large crow or huge magpie, and carried something big, dark and bulky with its talons. She'd never seen the like of it.

  Transfixed by the sudden events in play, Jane had no time to call a warning to Macklin. The huge bird zoomed over his head, releasing its package like a war plane dropping a bomb. She cried out just as her fella was craning his view up, too late to react. The bulky object - a large rock, by the way it bounced afterwards - struck Macklin in the head with dreadful impact.

  Jane's attention was diverted from Macklin's long hair flying as he crumpled to the pavement, to the huge bird - a magpie, from its white neck plumage - that made a hasty landing much closer to her on the school lawn. She stood transfixed as the bird changed its form before her eyes.

  In a mere blink, a short but very powerful-looking male fae stood in the magpie's place, less than ten paces from her. His only clothing was a pair of faded black trousers; the rest of his thickly muscled body was pale under dark body hair. The fae's hands and feet were large; each digit ended with a black claw. The thick hair on his wedge-shaped head was striped white and black, his black eyes were fixed on her, and his piranha-tooth smile was a promise of pain. "You must be the one," he said in raspy Irish. "Let's be quick about it, shall we?"

  The feral-looking fae began to approach; Jane was frozen with fear, unable to make a noise or force her feet to move. The squat fae suddenly stopped only a few steps away; his long, broad nose sniffed and twitched, as if taking her scent. He appeared to have discovered an odor he wasn't expecting, which made him pause with a puzzled frown.

  Acting on instinct, Jane released a focused scream that blasted forth out of terror and fury. She couldn't hear it herself, but saw the air ripple with its power. Her enemy reeled back a number of steps before he fell backwards onto the lawn. He sat up instantly, his wide nose and small pointed ears gushing violet blood. The bulky fae's look of surprise quickly curled into a wicked grin. The blood flow stopped as he sprang back to his feet.

  Before the bestial fae could take a step, an arrow suddenly pierced him from behind, slicing through his flesh and lodging between his ribs. He grunted from the impact and looked down at the bloody stone arrowhead that protruded out of the side of his heavy torso. He looked more irritated than injured.

  Jane could see past her assailant to Macklin, forty paces away in the car park. He was up on one knee, holding out his bow with one hand while the other shakily nocked another arrow. Some of his hair lay dark and wet against his face and neck. His right eye was closed from the ribbons of blood that ran down that side of his face. With a grim visage, he steadied himself for another shot.

  The bulky fae turned halfway in Macklin's direction; he flicked his oversized hand in that direction and then turned his head to leer at Jane once more. Just as Macklin pulled his weapon taut, the bowstring broke with a twang. A hissing chuckle came from the sinister fae while he faced Jane again.

  Without hesitation, Macklin yelled, "Jane, run! Use a door!"

  The bulky fae turned his dark, predatory eyes back toward Macklin, a bewildered look on his feral face. "Door?" he asked, still speaking in Irish. "What -" He stopped short, seeing that the bloody Fair fae was getting to his feet with the assistance of the spear in his hand. Sighing, he casually pulled the arrow out of his side and turned to face him. "I suppose you'll have to be dealt with first. Good - it'll make taking the girl more enjoyable."

  Jane didn't wait to see what happened next. If the short but powerful fae defeated Macklin, then she'd be on the run anyway. If her savage Macklin was to win out, he'd still want her safe and hidden away until he knew it was safe. Just as she turned and began to run, other students started leisurely coming out of the exit doors.

  Jane thought that what she'd just witnessed took minutes, but in reality must have been only seconds. She jostled through the growing stream of exiting students, holding back her scream for them to get out of her way. Another moment of dodging bodies and then she ran at full speed toward the back of the school building.

  Jane turned a corner while hastily unslinging her backpack from her shoulder. With no one in sight, she reached into a small inner pocket and pulled out a piece of sidewalk chalk. Macklin had asked early on that she keep some with her, just in case. Panting, she drew a hasty circle on the cinderblock school wall, and added a slash for a hinge. Nearly sobbing, she closed her eyes and forced herself to think only of the door. When Jane opened her eyes, the oblong door awaited her. She shoved it open, threw her backpack in first, and then scrambled through.

  As soon as Jane was in her room, she regretted running. But what could she do? Her scream was enough to knock the bastard down, but he looked like he enjoyed it. Then again, with her and Macklin together, she thought they could easily handle the brawny little fuck. She suddenly remembered her little friend Gideon, and how she hadn't seen him in her play room for quite a long time. If only he was there, he might have a better idea of what to do. But he wasn't, and fruitless hopes only wasted precious time.

  Resolved, Jane turned back to the round door and went to push it open to go help her fella. Nothing happened. Suddenly panicked, she slammed her fists and then a shoulder against it, but to no avail. Out back of the school was where the teachers parked; one or more of them had to have just come out for her door not to open.

  She and Macklin had discussed her doors - portals - in the past. While Jane was afraid to use one again to reach the Lore because of chaotic time variables, Macklin had an interesting and encouraging opinion. He thought that because fae paid little heed to time, the ether adapted that lack of concern. But because Jane was human, her portals might have the ether somewhat conforming to her embrace of time's importance. They hadn't tested the theory yet, but Jane was out of options other than to wait. With Macklin in danger, Jane made her choice... but she wasn't going to the Lore.

  The chalk was still in her hand; it was tacky from her sweaty palms, but still served its purpose. Jane raced to the other end of her room and drew another slapdash door, common and basically rectangular that time, on the uncluttered wall. Grabbing the knob, she thought only of Macklin and prayed to get back in time and as near to him as she could get.

  The door opened, revealing a dimmed school classroom; it closely resembled the one Jane had left just a few minutes before. The noise of students could be heard just outside the closed door. She was at St. Niall's, during or just after classes. Fear made her wonder if it was the same day, or even the same year. With the specific mind-fog on her sti
ll in effect, all memories of Gideon were instantly forgotten.

  Closing her door behind her, Jane glanced out the windows; moody clouds hung low, keeping the unlit classroom in vague shadows. It was no clear indicator, but at least the weather wasn't vastly different. She hurried from the room and out into the hall where some students were still making their way to the exits. Only one room away from her last class, she nervously jogged through the thin crowd and outside once more.

  Standing where she had not five minutes past, Jane could only gawk at the scene out on the school lawn near the curb. There was a large group of fae out there. The students walking to their cars unconsciously made wide detours around the assembled Other Crowd. One fae stood apart from the others - it was the brute with striped hair. He had bloody slashes across his hairy torso and one shoulder was blackened from a burn, but looked to be angry rather than in pain. He made a quick gesture with one clawed hand and stepped backward into a portal, careful not to turn his back on the group.

  As soon as the brute disappeared, Jane turned her attention to the others. Macklin was among them and the tallest by far. Part of his face was coated in violet blood, his shirt was nearly in tatters, but he was on his feet. Jane's heart swelled with relief and joy. He looked in her direction as if sensing her; even though he looked to be in desperate shape, he still managed a smile for her. His attention was brought back to the little fae next to him, who said something Jane couldn't hear from that distance.

  That little fae was only half Macklin's height, on the plump side and wearing old-fashioned work clothes. He didn't appear old, but his curly hair and long chin beard was vanilla white, like a sheep. Strangest of all was the set of goat horns that curved back over his head. Rather than menacing, Jane thought those horns made the little fae appear unassuming and rural.

  Unlike the one with the horns, though, the others around him all looked serious and shrewd. Those remaining fae creatures - Jane counted eight of them - were all diminutive, beautiful women with large feathered wings for arms and talons instead of feet. Their shifts were drab, which seemed only to accentuate the vibrant colors of their hair and plumage. Ranging from three to four feet tall, they stood proud and alert like sentries.

  Jane walked slowly and cautiously toward the group, wanting to be near Macklin - not that there was anything she could do for his injuries. The situation seemed safe enough at the moment; her fella had no weapons out and held a casual stance while talking to the little goat-sheep-fae. Seeing Macklin battered and bloody but standing there chatting made the surreal scene all the more strange. The pretty bird-women were somewhat intimidating, which was the only reason she wasn't running to him; she didn't want to cause another incident after one had just ended. Walking slowly also gave Jane time to gather her wits and calm her breathing.

  While many of the female sentries watched the handful of students passing obliviously around them, two of those bird-women kept their eyes directly on Jane while she came closer. Coming within range, she was able to start picking up on the conversation between Macklin and the little, horned fae.

  "... actually your brother, was he?" Macklin was asking.

  "Nay, I be without true siblings," the little fae replied in a soft, melodic voice. "It just be the way me morpher kin be addressin' one another, it is. For Fergal, though, I might be makin' an exception if he'll not be comin' around to a proper way of thinkin', says I."

  "You honestly believe he'll change? Is that why you let him go?"

  'Aye, forgive me soft heart," the little fae replied with a grimace. "I'd just be offerin' the one chance for redemption. Mayhap it was in folly, sad to say."

  One of the bird-women who kept her wary gaze on Jane stepped backwards, closer to Macklin and the little fae. "Pardon the intrusion, high-borne..."

  Macklin glanced at the sentry and then his eyes turned to Jane, who had just stopped at a respectable distance. Smiling, he said, "Jane, I am so glad to see you safe. There is nothing more to fear here."

  Jane matched his smile but still came no closer, wary of any reactions the intimidating bird-women might have for her. She was also hesitant about being any closer to the little fae fellow, who was plainly gawking at her. Pulling her eyes away from him, she looked at Macklin's battered appearance. "I was so worried for you! Is there something I can do to help? You look a tara mess."

  Keeping his grin, Macklin shook his head; his body language and expression showed little to no discomfort. "All is well. My new friend here," he gestured to the little fae next to him, who was still staring at Jane, "is strong in the gift of restoration, and was quite lenient in the debt I now owe him. I still show the results of being attacked, but my wounds are mostly healed." He looked down to the little fae and touched him on the shoulder to get his attention. "Merciful Gideon, may my fair lady approach? We are plain to her view; her beautiful eyes have seen the Lore."

  Jane saw that Gideon, as Macklin had called him, only gave a fleeting glance up to her fella before turning his big brown eyes to her once more. He stammered before softly uttering, "Lil' Jane?"

  Most of the bird-women turned to her and then back to him. One of the female sentries - a gorgeous creature with silvery white hair and wings - leaned down to the horned fae and asked, "This is the McCarthy lass, guide Gideon?"

  Jane and Macklin exchanged surprised glances. She continued to look at her fella with a baffled expression on her pretty face when she asked, "How is it every feckin' fae knows who I am?"