'Damn. We should have already left the in-between.' Ron mumbled barely audible. It had finally happened. The curse had finally reached out to them. Now they would be inflicted by it, too. He sighed, both him and his cousin, the captain had been spared due to the fact they had not been home in the last 13years. Barely using the surface lines. And now that blabbermouth named Tom had established a connection between them and the Grey Plane. Any story could be regarded as a prayer and every prayer could be regarded as a wish for connection, especially whilst travelling the Ley-Lines. They empowered any prayer, confession and what else like a booster.

He sighed now they had to get rid of their human sailors and follow the summoning as quick as possible. They could still be happy that Tom had invoked Manannan and not the Morrigan, who would not have cared whether the fragile humans suffered due to the magic of the Sidhe. She would never have left any leeway.

Sean looked at his first mate, knowing his reasoning. 'I guess we will have to set our sails for the next port. Pray to whoever, that the Sidhe are not in the mood to play tricks on us, now that they know where to find us.'

'Why would mighty beings like the Celtic gods pay attention to some minor vessel like ours?' Jordi a teenage deckhand argued. 'Because the Feodora is no simple ship, young one.' Tom answered in the Captain's stead. 'It was first launched at the shore of Tir-na-nog.'

'Enough! No further mentioning of any of this until we are back in the Mortal Planes. The In-Between is no place for such talk.' Ron thundered in a tone none dared to argue. A silence just as loud as the shout blanketed the ship. Every sailor minded his own busyness and busied himself with the usual tasks. Finding peace in routine. Only the captain and the first mate stayed a while where they had been, before heading towards the Captain's cabin once more. Frowning and clearly lost in thought.

Ian shuddered as he saw their sombre expressions. He knew that there was more to it, than those two would let on. The captain and his first mate were people who knew how to keep a secret. The Feodora was indeed different. Considering the fact, the captain and first mate didn't refute the launching at Tir-na-nog directly could be seen as an admittance. Being able to use a Sidhe-Contract meant being related to the Sidhe. So why not.

Ever since he had set foot on this ship, he had felt it was different. Though he had first thought it was due to his inexperience. The planks seemed to breath at times, to be warm like some living creature. And every time he touched the wood the Feodora seemed to enjoy it. Lately he had caught himself stroking and patting the ship like one of their animals back at the farm. The connection he felt ever since he had first seen the ship grew slowly but steadily. He knew his brothers and even most of the sailors would have freaked out at the motion, but old Tom had only smiled.

Ian could clearly remember what the old man had answered when he had told him about his feelings towards the ship and how they scared the wits out of him. His feelings were still in a turmoil.

'It's perfectly within expectation, lad. You were born for the sea. Much more than any of us besides the captain and first mate.' old Tom assured the boy, who got an inkling of why the others called him a lune behind his still broad back.

'I don't know what ya mean. Was born a farmer's boy.' Ian answered suddenly frightened by the truths he felt in the old man's words. All that destiny stuff like born for the sea or born for greatness like his father had always said, it all surmounted into nothing in face of reality. Like hunger, the inquisition or a storm whilst on a ship.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

'It doesn't matter if you want to admit it, you can't run from destiny.' Tom had smiled. The memory faded as fast as it had come. Well, right now, the old man wasn't smiling, instead for the first time since the young boy had known him, he frowned.

'Feels like there is a storm brewing ahead. I should've really kept my trap shut.' the old sailor grumbled 'Like some newbie rattling about gods whilst merely an inch away from their realm. A beginner's mistake that could cost us dearly now. Worst thing is that I really don't know why I did it. Maybe I was played. A pawn in a much bigger game.'

This sounded like the rambling of a lunatic to Ian. But even though a small part of him wanted to know what made the men he had grown to respect so nervous, that they sounded like lunatics.

He sighed there was even a part of himself who knew they were right.

Dark clouds and the hisses of squalls brought him back to reality even before the first gust of cold seawater splattered across his face. And then the storm was suddenly upon them.

He followed Tom over the shaking and bucking deck. Waves like horses reared and towered next to the ship, shaking it violently. Creaking of ropes and tows even drowned the sound of waves and wind.

Ian knew he should be frightened and that he should have trouble staying on his feet, like virtually every other sailor aboard besides the captain and Ron who were looking as if they were rooted to the bucking deck. Whilst even seasoned sailors like Tom and Red, the second mate had trouble standing much less walking around like Ian and the other two could.

This was a hell of a storm. Ian felt its raging power with every fibre of his being. Like fresh energy pumping through his veins with every gust and squall he felt.

He looked around. All sailors had towed themselves to the deck and were staring incredulously at Ian for they had never seen anyone besides Ron and the Captain able of this feat. Being the calm in the storm. In a normal storm they would have fought the elements, followed orders and do their uttermost to keep the ship in going. But this storm, like all storms in the in-between was different. It didn't follow any logic.

The ship was shaking like about to burst. But at the same time, it was kept in perfect balance, like whatever caused this storm simply wanted to play but not hurt the ship.

'Seems like they are playing with the ship. They seem to know that neither the Captain nor Ron are in any danger to fall off, it seems the same goes for you, lad, though I doubt anyone knew... as for the rest of us, I guess, the Mortals amongst us are not important enough to care.' Tom told Ian, who could hear him perfectly well above the noise, the millions of wrinkles made the sailor look like an old wooden statue in the flash-light of the lightning-bolts that now raced through the pitch-black sky.

'You make it sound like the captain and first mate are no mortals...?' Ian asked in a low voice, that effortlessly overpowered the storm. He didn't even know why neither him nor the old sailor thought about shouting like the rest of the crew did. And even if they did, they were barely audible.

'Lad, Ian, by now you should have noticed that you have more in common with those two, than all other of us combined. You are not dumb, lad. You know only Sidhe and their most direct kin are able to form Sidhe-Contracts. That means you know what they are, what you are. You along with the captain and first mate belong to the Grey-Plane, one of the three immortal planes. I guess you get the rest without me saying it. Don't play dumb it doesn't suit you.' the old sailor argued with iron in his voice.

Ian gulped. 'You say I am Sidhe kin?' 'I would even go as far as say you are related to Manannan flock, like the Captain and Ròn. I guess there will be a talk between the three of you after we are set free of this storm.' Ol'Tom explained.

'Well if what you say is true...' Ian began and held up a hand to stop Tom who wanted to interrupt him 'Well I guess it IS true... then I really need to talk to them. Until now I simple discarded all those things that happened to being a seventh son of a seventh son... now I don't know... I guess all of this is about my mother...'

'I guess you might be right... look, lad, the captain is about to act.' Tom said excitedly and pointed to the captain who had positioned himself in the middle of the deck and spread his arms, looking up in the sky as if to welcome the pouring rain.

'I am Sean MacLir, son to Manannan MacLir. I swear to my name that I am to return to my father's court within the moon.' he thundered

'IIIIttt'sss nooott enouuughh. Yooouuu arre nooot ennnoughh. Briiiing Ròònn aaandd alllll ooothhher ooofff Siiiidddhhheee Bllooood wiiiithhh yoooouuu, Dooonnnn'ttt fooooorggeeeettt ttthheeee Boooooyyyyy.' the storm answered.

'I swear to do as I am told.' Sean MacLir told the storm and it dissipated with a soft 'GOOOOOD.'

The sea was still and silent as if there had never been a storm. Ian gulped and looked at the captain, who waved him to come over 'I guess I am in for it.' he thought as he approached the tall Sidhe who now had his aura of power on full display. He, the captain was the son of a god, of Manannan MacLir and that entity had ordered to bring him, Ian. Ian gulped at the thought. He had never felt this small and helpless in his whole life.