“Trying a new look are you?” asked Mazu, her head slightly tilted.
Cordelia tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come out.
“It suits you.”
“Than…” began Cordelia.
“Wade came to see me earlier. Triton has called an emergency meeting in the dining hall.”
Cordelia’s eyes grew wide with panic.
“Don’t worry,” said Mazu, “you haven’t done anything wrong.”
Cordelia didn’t know what she was more worried about, the fact she was the cause of an emergency meeting on a Sunday morning or the fact that she would have to showcase her hair to the entire school far earlier than anticipated. She took a deep breath and filed into the tunnel between her friends who acted as a security blanket on the off chance that someone might make an unwelcome comment.
No sooner had the girls entered the dining hall, they sensed an undercurrent of hushed remarks, groans and ripples of laughter. Cordelia clocked Wade sitting at the teacher’s table, he lifted his chin upwards and winked. Digging deep into her soul, Cordelia found the courage to follow Wade’s advice. Walking through the hustle and bustle of the dining hall in search of a seat, she lifted her head high and smiled. Inside, Cordelia felt anxious and vulnerable but outside she portrayed a beautiful, confident young woman and the hushed remarks dwindled.
The girls took their seats at a table with Lorelei and Genevieve, the twins from Germany. When everyone was present, Triton banged his cane on the floor three times and the dining hall fell silent.
“I’m sorry to call a meeting on a Sunday,” he began, “especially at such an early hour.”
Hushed moans echoed amongst the students.
“But,” continued Triton authoritatively, “I would not call upon you if it wasn’t a matter of importance. It has been brought to my attention that Pooka is in Kilfearagh and has presented itself to one of our fellow students in the form of a dark horse.”
Restless chatter erupted in the dining hall.
“Silence!” commanded Triton. “We’ve reason to believe that Pooka is in a menacing mood and is certainly looking for mischief, and perhaps more. We’ll gather as much shamrock as we can and we’ll surround ourselves with it until Pooka moves on. No-one is to venture out after dusk while Pooka is here and if you hear anyone calling your name during the dark hours, you do not leave. You ignore it. Pooka likes nothing more than to take someone on a wild ride.”
“I bet it’s got something to do with her,” said Max who was sitting at a nearby table.
Everyone within earshot turned and stared at the new blonde.
“We finally get rid of the Sirens and now she brings a goblin to our door,” complained Max.
Rafe sat quietly. He was completely smitten with this girl but too much of a coward to jump to her defence. Cordelia ignored them, instead remaining firmly focused on the teachers at the front.
“Are you okay?” mouthed Marilla.
Cordelia subtly nodded and kept a calm, poised demeanour.
At the tavern that night you could have cut the atmosphere with a knife as tension grew between Flynn and Breck. Flynn was so inebriated that Breck had been running things alone. After closing, Breck went straight to bed, leaving Flynn in a stupefied state downstairs. He wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey or whether he really could hear someone calling his name.
“We’re closed,” murmured Flynn. Then he heard his name again. “We’re closed!” he called, stumbling to the door to see who it was.
Flynn opened the door and stared open mouthed. He blinked a few times but the sleek, dark horse with golden eyes remained. Flynn tripped over the threshold.
“Where did you come from then?” asked Flynn, reaching out his hand to stroke the horse.
“I’ve come from the mountains,” said Pooka, “to take you on a wild ride.”
Before Flynn could respond he found himself gripping tightly to the long, flowing mane as Pooka galloped through town and countryside knocking down fences, wrecking gardens and trampling crops. No matter how hard he tried, Flynn could not shake himself free. He had no control. He was pulled this way and that at such speed through the cold, frigid night air and with such force that his stomach felt uneasy. He had not signed up for this rodeo.
Just before dawn, Pooka returned to the bay and threw Flynn off outside the lighthouse where he lay unconscious and covered in bruises. Some would say that Pooka was being mischievous, having a bit of fun, but Pooka’s game night wasn’t over yet. Pooka ran between the horses, making them excited, then ran ahead of them, tempting them forward. This goblin led them in a merry dance and they unwittingly followed it straight off the cliff top.
NINETEEN
White Horses
When Rafe and Max went outside to tend to the horses the next morning, an eerie void filled the air. It was always quiet on the cliff top, but not this quiet. The sky was pale grey, the water looked strangely black and the wind whipped at their shirts. Rafe and Max looked for the horses, slowly turning in circles as they searched.
“Where the blazes are the horses?” asked Max in frustration.
“I don’t know,” said Rafe, “but he might.”
Max followed Rafe’s gaze to the cliff edge where Flynn was lying on his back in the wet grass. They marched towards him.
“He looks a bit worse for wear,” said Rafe.
“Wake up,” said Max, sternly.
There was no response.
“Flynn! Wake up!” demanded Max and shoved him with his boot.
Startled, Flynn opened his eyes and tried to sit up. He groaned, placing a hand on his ribs.
“What the bloody hell have you done with our horses?!” asked
