She looked me straight in the eyes for one of those hour-long seconds, smiled – then changed the subject.
‘Yogi has packed the boat onto Tuan’s horse and has taught him how to assemble it. You be careful out there on the ocean.’
‘Gosh, it almost sounds like you’re worried about me.’
She started to scowl but then gave me a hug. ‘I am,’ she said.
Yogi appeared with the horses and Essa quickly turned to go, but before she could get away I caught her by the wrist. She tensed up and I instantly let go remembering what a foolish thing that is to do, but she didn’t attack and I got to say what I wanted to say.
‘Then we will both worry about each other. OK?’
She nodded and mounted up. I watched them disappear into the pre-dawn.
I went back to bed for another hour; when I awoke Brendan was already up. He had a good fire going and was cooking breakfast.
‘Have you been up long?’ I asked.
‘I love the sunrise on a beach. I grew up near a beach,’ Brendan said. ‘Dawn is a magical time by the sea. That’s what my mother always said. She also used to say, “Just because you can’t see a skunk doesn’t mean that things don’t stink.”’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I have no idea,’ Brendan said, laughing. ‘She used to say all sorts of crazy stuff. I’ve been thinking about her all morning. Once she woke me up and we trudged to the beach before the sun came up to hunt for driftwood. We built a fire and she told me stories until it was light enough to see. You know what she told me?’
I shook my head, no.
‘She told me about a land where people never grow old – she even named it. I’ve been stretching my memory to remember and I’m pretty sure she called it Tir na Nog. She told me I came from a line of wise men, who were forced to leave.’ He stopped and looked away.
‘The Fili after the Fili war,’ I said out loud as much to myself as to Brendan.
When he turned back his eyes were shining. ‘See? That’s why I thought this was all a dream at first. I loved those stories when I was young, but when I got older I stopped believing in them. Mom, though, never stopped believing. I started to think that she was stupid and later… crazy. Who’s the stupid one now?’
He dropped his head and was silent for a while. I put my arm around his shoulders. Finally he wiped his eyes on his sleeve and stood – shaking off his heavy emotions. ‘I’m glad my girl is with her now and I hope Mom is telling her as all ae same stories. I have to get back, Conor. I have to tell them both that it’s all true.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
As we travelled along the coast, a foggy drizzle blew in from the sea. It was cold and damp and very unpleasant but it hid us from prying eyes, and we hoped it hid Essa and Yogi from the alders. Along with being moist and miserable it was also slow going. It was a beach, not a trail and we frequently had to dismount to negotiate boulders, large pieces of flotsam and jetsam or runoff streams. When we came to a good patch of sand we would break into a canter or even a gallop but I could tell Acorn didn’t like the sand. It broke my heart to make him stay on the beach. I promised him I would get him some real snazzy oats when we got back to normality.
Dinner that night was what was left of Yogi’s ray. Trust me, it was nicer twenty-four hours earlier. The loss of Essa and Yogi had left a hole in the group that no one tried to fill. It was early to bed and the next morning it was early to rise.
The previous day’s drizzle whipped itself up into a full-blown storm. I guess I should have been grateful it wasn’t snow, but at least then I would have been dry. The near-horizontal rain made me wet in places I didn’t even know I had. Equestrianism is no longer fun when your trousers squelch with every bounce. We were all too miserable and frozen to talk. By lunchtime I was practically in a hypothermic coma and would have stayed that way if Brendan hadn’t flipped.
We had stopped only long enough to decide to eat lunch on the hoof. Turlow dismounted and opened his saddlebag to get some grub. That’s when Brendan lost it. He jumped from his horse and came down hard on poor Turlow’s head. The Banshee didn’t know what hit him. Turlow jumped to his feet and when he saw Brendan on the ground he assumed that Brendan had fallen on him after being shot by some unseen attacker. He popped out his Banshee blade and turned his back on the policeman, looking for the sniper. Brendan picked himself up and then tackled Turlow from behind like a linebacker in full blown ’roid-rage.
Turlow went face down hard into a sand dune. Brendan jumped on his back and tried to pull his arms, like he was handcuffing him, but by this time Turlow was no longer confused. He wrenched his wrists free and then, like a rodeo bull, he arched his back and pushed his body up on all fours. Brendan sailed three feet into the air. He came down face first with his body at an angle that made me worry he had broken his neck. Turlow was on him in a second. To the Banshee’s credit he didn’t run him through. Brendan obviously was still not thinking properly; he reached for the Banshee blade with his hand. Turlow pulled the razor-sharp edge out of the way and gave Brendan a swift kick in the side that doubled him up.
‘I have been restrained with you, Real Worlder,’ Turlow said, pushing his blade at Brendan’s side, ‘but my restraint is not infinite. Tell me why you attacked me or die.’
I dismounted, ran between them and managed to back Turlow off a bit. ‘Brendan, what’s gotten into you?’
‘He’s in league with Cialtie,’ Brendan said.
I spun around and my heart jumped into my throat. Turlow stood there with his sword drawn and for a second I thought he was going to attack us both. I reached for the Lawnmower but it wasn’t there – it was strapped to Acorn. ‘Brendan, what are you talking about? How do you know this?’
Brendan took a step towards Turlow. The Banshee raised his blade menacingly and Brendan stopped.
‘Turlow,’ I asked, ‘what is he talking about?’
‘I do not know; your friend has gone mad.’
‘All right,’ I said, ‘let’s everybody calm down a bit.’ I turned to Brendan. He took a deep breath, dropped his shoulders and nodded. Turlow backed off and reluctantly flicked his Banshee blade back up his sleeve. ‘Right, Brendan, explain yourself.’
Brendan composed himself. He straightened his clothes and put on the kind of face I imagine he uses when testifying in court. ‘Conor, you told me that you were attacked in the Real World by black riders that were sent by Cialtie.’
‘Yes.’
‘And your aunt told you that Cialtie had been looking for you for years.’
‘That’s what she said.’
‘My mother bought the farmhouse I live on in the Real World because she thought it was close to lay-lines and portals to an Otherworld. Two years ago my wife was killed in a car accident when she hit a black horse. A couple of days ago, Conor suggested that that horse had a rider and that that rider was sent by Cialtie.’
‘If I recall, Brendan, you told me that I was crazy for suggesting that.’
‘Well, I have been thinking about it, Conor. It’s amazing how living in Faerieland can make one reassess one’s opinions.’
‘What has this to do with me?’ Turlow asked.
‘Open his bag,’ Brendan said.
‘If you think I am going to stand here and let you search my possessions then think again,’ Turlow said. I saw his fingers twitch but the Banshee blade didn’t reappear.
‘Just lift the flap on his saddlebag and look at the marking underneath.’
I slowly backed to Turlow’s horse. Man, it was tense. I had a feeling that if I took my eyes off the two of them that they would be at each other’s throats in a second. I lifted the flap on the bag and saw what Brendan was
