I surprised her when I hugged her but then she returned it, her arms only making it to my sides.
‘How is Lord Oisin?’
‘Not good.’
‘If he-’ She stopped and placed her hand over her mouth as if to push back the words.
‘What is it, Aein? You can say anything to me.’
‘If… If Lord Oisin should die…’ she said and made a little gesture like she was warding off evil spirits, ‘will Cialtie come back?’
‘Over my dead body.’
Her worried eyes went steely. ‘Mine too.’ We shared a determined smile. ‘If you need anything, you pull that cord.’
‘Thank you, Aein.’
‘Welcome home, Young Prince.’
My head hit the pillow like I had been hit with Araf’s banta stick. In that twilight moment between wakefulness and sleep I felt the impatience of a dream desperate to begin, like a troupe of actors waiting for the opening curtain. ‘Here we go!’ I mumbled aloud.
I was a bit disappointed with my first dream back. Deep down I had hoped that I would be able to have a conversation with my father, but my dream was a collage of fleeting images. Trees, salmon, horses, knives, castles, bears, mermaids, archers and a myriad of other images zoomed in and out of my sleep. I only had e vision that stayed with me. It was of a young girl I didn’t recognise; she was crying, and an older woman that I somehow knew was her grandmother was comforting her.
I had slept later than I meant to. I dressed quickly and jogged to my father’s room. Fand was sitting at his feet, cross-legged with her hands folded in her lap, Buddha-like. She turned to me when I entered. ‘There is no change, Conor. We will know more after nightfall.’ I leaned over and kissed Dad on the forehead; it was like kissing a cue ball, cold and hard. ‘Hang in there, Pop,’ I whispered.
‘Go get something to eat,’ Fand said, ‘we will find you if there is any change.’
I found the breakfast room all by myself (well, after getting lost for a half an hour). Everywhere I went people pointed at me and whispered to their companions, or, even worse, bowed. No one dared to sit with me at breakfast but that didn’t stop them from staring at me. I’m not sure if it was ’cause I was their prince or ’cause the food was so awesome that I moaned while I ate.
A guard approached as I was finishing. I was surprised to see he was a Banshee. I was glad that Dad had chosen not to banish all of the guards that worked for Cialtie.
‘Prince Conor,’ the guard said, bowing. He was young and I could see he was nervous. I smiled at him. ‘The prisoner is getting – difficult.’
‘Prisoner? What prisoner?’
‘The one who shouts with the strange tongue.’
‘Oh my gods,’ I said, ‘Detective Fallon, I forgot all about him. You’d better take me to him.’
Chapter Four
I heard him before I even rounded the corner. When I reached the door two guards, a Banshee and an Imp, snapped to attention.
‘Take it easy, guys,’ I said. They relaxed but not much.
I jumped when I heard the volume of the shouts on the other side of the door.
‘Do you know who I am?’ Brendan bellowed with a voice that was going hoarse. ‘YOU ARE ALL IN BIG TROUBLE! DO YOU HEAR ME?’
I motioned for the door to be opened. The Banshee reached for the handle and the Imp stepped in front of me gripping his banta stick.
‘Hold on,’ I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. ‘That won’t be necessary.’
‘Are you sure you want to go in there alone?’ the Imp asked.
‘I’m sure.’ Just then a thunderous crash shook the door from the inside. ‘Well, maybe you could lend me your stick.’
The Imp stared at me with an It’s your funeral look and handed me his banta stick. ‘Brendan,’ I called through the door, ‘I’m coming in, don’t attack me. OK?’
There was no answer so I braced myself and stuck my nose around the jamb. Detective Fallon was standing in the middle of the room. His shirt tail was half out, his hair stuck out at a wacky forty-five-degree angle. He was panting and covered with sweat. His eyes weren’t as crazy as the last time I saw him, but I wasn’t about to shake his hand. I closed the door behind me. ‘I see you have been busy turning our furniture into toothpicks.’
‘Kidnapping is a very serious crime.’
‘You can add it to the murder charge if you like, but I didn’t do either of them.’
‘Where am I?’ he said, taking a menacing step towards me.
‘Easy, fella,’ I said, positioning my stick, ‘I don’t want to hit you with one of these a third time.’
‘A third time?’
‘Yes, I hit you once in the neck at the police station and once in the head upstairs.’
‘That was you?’ he said, rubbing the side of his head where I am sure it hurt.
‘Yeah, sorry, I got a little carried away.’
‘I don’t remember much about the second time,’ he said calming down a bit, ‘I was…’
‘Freaked out,’ I finished for him. ‘Don’t worry about it, The Land can do that to you – I know. Hey, let’s sit down and talk about this nicely.’ I looked around the room but there wasn’t any place to sit. Not one piece of furniture was any bigger than my forearm. Keeping one eye on Brendan I backed up to the door and opened it a crack. ‘Could you get us a couple of chairs?’ I glanced back at the devastation of the room. ‘Cheap ones.’
Brendan glared at me while I kicked pieces of smashed furnishings into the corner. A guard came in carrying two simple chairs. ‘Are these cheap enough for you, Your Highness?’
‘They’ll be fine,’ I said, indicating with a tilt of my head for him to leave.
Brendan examined his chair before he sat in it. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t trust me or if he was studying it to see how easy it would be to smash. ‘What language are you are speaking?’
‘Ancient Gaelic. It’s the lingo around here.’
‘And where is here?’
‘You’re in The Land, Brendan. I wasn’t lying.’
‘You’re telling me that I’m in that Never-Never Land you babbled on about?’
‘Tir na Nog actually, but now that I think about it, the concept is the same.’
‘And who are you – Tinkerbell?’
‘Well, I would prefer to think of myself as more of a Peter-like person but we are getting off the subject. You’re here now. I don’t know how you got here.’
‘The last thing I clearly remember is grabbing onto a horse’s tail.’
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘That explains it. You were pulled through when my mother opened a door to another world, this world, The Land.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘I don’t blame you, it even sounds crazy to me and I’ve done it a couple of times before, but that’s the truth of it. It would be easier if you accepted it.’
Brendan rubbed his head in the place where I had clocked him.
‘Head hurting?’
He nodded.
‘Have you eaten?’
In response he pointed to his left. A tray lay at the foot of a wall surrounded by broken crockery. Above it dripped the remains of a breakfast.
