Chapter Nine THE SISTERHOOD OF WITCHES

It is still dark as I feel the bed mattress shift and a draft of cold air momentarily chills me as the warm comforter is lifted to allow a freezing cold body to invade my cosy nest. Through bleary eyes I can see Etain’s grimly-set pale face, thanks to a shaft of moonlight coming through my bedroom window, her long dark hair loose and wild, glistening wet.

"Where you been?" I try to say but my tongue seems to be stuck fast to the roof of my mouth and emerges as a strangled rasp with popping lips, something like, ‘whereu-pop-pop-bin?’

"Dancing," comes the curt reply, before she slips under the comforter and turns herself away from me. A cold butt insinuates itself into my side as I lay on my back and shocks me into wide awake mode. The last prior thought I remember of last night was Etain curled up on my shoulder as we fell asleep. Was that first cosy sharing of my bed with this beautiful creature nothing but a dream?

If you are thinking that this was the early morning after Etain had finally reached that milestone in her life that is euphemistically referred to as ‘attaining womanhood’, you’d be wrong, so keep your dirty thoughts to yourself, would you?

Etain had been a ‘woman’ in the brown-up adult sense of the word for at least six times longer than my own country of birth had even been in existence. No, last night we were both emotionally drained after our rather momentous weekend of revelation upon revelation, especially after my deeply asleep daughter Caoimhe had been carried up to her own bedroom for the night.

Etain simply insisted that she didn’t want to go back downstairs and sleep on her own on her last night as my house guest and wouldn’t consider any other option. I was easily persuaded.

She put on one of my old tees, that hung down to mid-thigh on her, yet looked sensational on her, and we gently kissed and cuddled under the comforter until we both fell asleep exhausted but happy. Her ‘womanhood’, if we insist on calling it that, remains intact.

Now, it is much later in the night and I have slept alone for sometime, judging by how cold my house guest has become.

I look at the pair of luminous dials on my battered old wind-up bedside clock, registering seven minutes after three in the morning. That trusty old clock is the one that I had used throughout my time in college and my father had used in his college time before me. It must be fifty years old and is an old wind-up Swiss folding travelling clock that used to have an alarm which no longer works, but it keeps excellent time and, before we had this cottage rewired, it was a boon whenever the electrics failed overnight and the radio clock on Ella’s side registered nothing or flashing zeros.

"Dancing?" I ask.

No reply. The burrowing butt has stopped burrowing further into my rapidly cooling torso and Etain is emitting a cute snuffling on her breath intake and breathing out with a warm gentle buzz.

She is already asleep in seconds. I on the other hand am wide awake. I nudge her gently.

"Dancing?" I pause for a moment and jab her more determinedly with my elbow. "Dancing?" I repeat louder.

"Mmm, dancing, just dancing." Etain mumbles sleepily.

"Why?"

"Love dancing. Wanna sleep, lemme sleep." Etain’s breathing buzzes again.

"Where?"

"Wha’?"

"Where. Were. You. Dancing?" I spell out, well, not quite, but you know, demonstrating that I want answers, now, not tomorrow, even though it is tomorrow already.

"The Faerie Ring." Etain’s voice has taken on a sigh of exasperation.

"Our … Faerie Ring?" I ask, "The one you found yesterday at the bottom of our back yard, overgrown and hidden among the fallen trees and impenetrable brambles?"

"Of course, now where else would we be dancing at all?" She starts to turn slowly, stiffly to face me.

"We?"

"We. My sisters and I was dancing and …" she was fully turned by now and looking at me under hooded eyes, her head bowed slightly as if she wasn’t going to tell me the full story, so I silently let her continue. A small smile forms on her lips as she no doubt recalls her love of this fresh indulgence in dance. "… well, Richard, brambles and fallen branches be naught at all when witches are wont to dance in the moonlight, such barriers melt away by magic, by becoming a temporary part of the Otherworld, returning to leave no trace of us after we’re done with the dance."

"So, both your sisters came to visit through the Faerie Ring and dance with you?"

"All of my sisters came, and they came only after I summoned them to come."

"All your sisters?"

"All six came, because seven witches is a perfect number for dancing in the moonlight, a most magical dance it was, too, our first with all seven sisters together. It was … it was lovely. I wish you had seen it yourself."

"You were wearing my worn out old tee in your dance?" I say, "I imagine it must’ve been quite a sight?"

"Ah. Comfortable old tees, particularly one smelling sweetly of the man in my life, becomes a wondrously diaphanous gown during a witch’s dance, Richard."

"You … I … we … er … am I the man in your life, Etain?"

"Aye, of course you are, the only man in my life. It is the reason I am here, in this place, in this house … in this bed. I love you, Richard, and one day, I hope, you will … love me in return," she looks fully at me now, her lovely face aglow in the moonlight, "in time."

Ah, awkward or what? Reply to her with my feelings? Do I even know what they are? Really? I have loved and lost, can I,even love again? My confusion? My hopes and fears? The Irish have the perfect retort to such questions, ‘Feck that!’ Certainly for now, in bed together, such a response is impossible. Change the subject? Yes. Safety first works.

"I thought one of your sisters died when she was just a small child?"

"Aye, so did I." Etain smiles broadly, “I now know that even witches, especially a young one like I was back in those days, can have her mind fogged by one with more power than I to fool me.”

“By your mother?”

“No, my father, well, my step-father. I never knew who my father was at all, well. I didn’t know, not then.”

‘Not then? What now?’ I think, but then nothing surprises me in conversations with Etain any more, I am in a reality dream. Besides, seven witches dancing in the moonlight, that was interesting and I find my imagination running wild.

“Look, Richard, can we go downstairs to the kitchen and talk about this over a cup of tea? I’m thirsty after my dancing and I need to look in your eyes in the light when we talk about this.”

‘Oh oh,’ I think, ‘this is serious. What is she up to now?’

“All right, we’ll go down for no more than an hour,” I say, getting out of bed. "Monday’s a work day for and a school day for Caoimhe, so I need to be up to get her breakfast, packed lunch and delivered to school."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

I usually sleep naked in the summer, even though the evenings are now starting to draw in, the house is well insulated but it’s still noticeably colder than being snuggled up under the comforter. Yes, we do conform to the bedroom conventions of the European maritime climate and we have a duck-down duvet, but I can’t help but call it a ‘comforter’ out of habit.

With a young daughter at home to care for on my own, I do have a pair of pyjama bottoms in the bottom drawer of the night stand, for emergencies, she still has nightmares which wake us both from time to time and when she was a baby I did all the night feeds and diaper changes or stayed up with her half the night with colds, flu, or fevers, the usual child ailments that we have to go through.

I already had a tee and boxers on this evening, having shared the bed with a nubile female for the first time in ten years. So I pull on the PJs and feel acclimatised by then to the night temperatures to consider that the dressing gown that I use for the winter months isn’t necessary.

“I’ll put the kettle on, while you get dressed,” I say quickly and depart as Etain gets out her side of the bed and stretches her long slim arms, making the tee shirt ride up her shapely thighs.

***

The kettle boils and I make the tea from the leaves from the little caddy that Etain has left on the side, two spoonfuls and one for the pot. I rarely drink tea at home. We do keep a few bags in as some of the moms of Caoimhe’s school friends, who help with the school runs when I have to leave early or come back late from visiting customers, prefer tea and sometimes they stop off for a cuppa and a chat when dropping their girls off for sleepovers and such.

Even though Irish moms have just as busy lives as moms do back home, they seem to like to make time to talk about things going on in their lives, your lives and pass on the general gossip over a pot of tea.

Etain pours when the tea has brewed and we sit at our little kitchen table to talk.

“So you danced with all your sisters?” I open.

“Aye, it was brilliant,” she laughs, “joyous it was, we’d never all danced together before. One or two I hadn’t seen since I was a wean and one or two more I had never ever seen before. It was such fun and so much joy and love that Caoimhe finally joined in. She really couldn’t help herself by then, she was hopping about as we danced, I released Dubheasa’s hand and we both held out our hands so she could join the ring.”

"Wait, Caoimhe was there? She should’ve been in bed!"

"She was. Well, she was earlier. Until I woke her up." Etain looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Caoimhe and I spoke about it earlier and she thought you’d deny her the chance if you knew we planned to dance in the Ring beforehand.”

“I’m her father, you shouldn’t hold secrets from me.”

“I know, but,” Etain chews her lower lip. “You wouldn’t have wanted her to miss a chance of dancing with a group of loving sister witches in her very own Faerie Ring under the light of the silvery moon, now, wouldja?"

"No, of course not," I say, "I am sorry I missed seeing the spectacle myself but … it was just dancing and singing, yes? … nothing happened that I would be unhappy about a 10-year-old attending and taking part in?"

‘Nay, of course not!" Etain snorts, in a fit of giggles. "Did ya think we were sacrificing chickens or slurping wine or poteen by the pint?"

"No," I relax with relief, "so, she had a fun time dancing?"

"Aye, she did have a grand time, she was perfectly safe with me and all my sisters present, there was safety in numbers and she felt perfectly at home."

"Well, I’m pleased she had fun, but it’s a school day today and if she’s tired…."

“We were hoping you would let her stay away from school today, so she can learn more at home.”

“And what would she learn about, exactly?” I ask dubiously.

“About who she is in relation to the world about her and … about the Otherworld beneath. I thought we would visit the Otherworld during the day, when the Faerie Ring would appear less gloomy and frightening. You could come too, in fact I think you should.”

“I have work to do today. I’ve a twelve noon appointment to install and commission a new server in Cork.”

“Perfect. I know a couple of convenient portals in Cork we could use even in daylight. How heavy is the … er, ‘server?’ you need to install?”

“The server has already been delivered. I just need to be there for three to four hours to connect it up and commission it. Then leave it running for a night and day, monitoring performance from home and go back on Wednesday morning for a final check and sign it off.”

“So you could get by with a bag of tools?”

“Yeah,” I smile, “something like that. I’ve got a small bag I take with me with multimeter, spare connectors and cables.”

“Great. So, are you coming to the Otherworld with me tomorrow?”

“And I can’t eat, drink, or sleep there?”

“No, you cannot, otherwise you could never return to this world, not without help and even then you would never belong here again.”

“I can hold on for a few hours then. Would I be welcome there, do I have to sneak in and out like you?”

“I don’t ‘sneak in’ any more, Richard,” she laughs. “I can come and go as I like, but I never sleep and always fast while there. I am not ready to belong to the Otherworld yet.”

“But you are accepted, why?”

“Because, although I am a witch of this world, my father was a Faerie from the Otherworld and through him I have free passage. Although I sneaked in that very first time all those years ago, to the annoyance of the Faerie who I raced past, I recently found out that my father had foreseen my visit and had an eye on me the whole time I visited and, whenever I returned he was ready for me and observed me from afar. I only found this out from my sister Dubheasa two months ago.”

“I’ve not heard of Dubheasa before. What’s her story?”

Etain smiles, one of remembering pleasurable memories I guess.

“Dubheasa was my only younger sister. I’m the second youngest of the brood. When she was born, I was still a partly-nursing wean about two years old and for a short while we each shared Mother’s breasts. We shared a cot and later a bed together and we were always very close. She was a sweet child and I loved her so, more so than my other sisters who were still at home. I loved my stepfather too, being only father I ever knew.”

“Who was your stepfather?”

“Elloth. He was a tall, lean man, dark-skinned with glossy black hair which he wore long and braided. He treated Dubheasa and me as if we were both his children. Kaetlynn and Bebhinn were loved, certainly, but it never seemed as much as we youngest weans.”

“What happened to Elloth and Dubheasa?”

“They died of the fever, I was told. My mother Sabhadama took us other sisters away inland to get away from the pestilence, she said. But I only found out a couple of months ago that that was a lie by my mother.”

“What really happened?”

“Elloth was not of this world. He was from the Otherworld, a member of the Tuatha Dé Danann, and he was forced to return by those in the Otherworld that enforce the laws."

"So these Otherworld dwellers can’t come and go as they please?"

Etain smiles, "They can please themselves coming and going, it is when they stay and overstay their welcome that they can get into trouble. You see, way back in time the Tuatha Dé Danann ruled the whole of the island of Eire but then they were invaded and fought a series of three monumental battles with the present Irish people, who wanted to settle here, a Celtish tribe from Iberia. There were terrible battles, Richard. There were damaging losses on both sides, with no quarter given. Something had to give or both sides would’ve been finished, and these islands open to fresh invaders who would’ve come in unopposed. So they agreed to divide the island into two domains."

"So, instead of a north/south or similar separation, one group went underground?"

"Aye, the Tuath Dé took the Otherworld. Both sides were satisfied, the Celts thought they had received the best of it, the fertile green we know today, but the Tir na nÓg was the land of the young, of milk and honey, so the Tuath Dé thought they had the best of worlds."

"Yet you visit the Otherworld and have all your family there but you constantly return to the over world. Why?"

"Because here is where I was born and legally belong. Though for most of my life so far I haven’t really felt settled anywhere but I did feel an uncomfortable outsider in the Otherworld." She looks at me over the small table and lays both hands on mine. "I feel my destiny lies here, Richard, my future. I have unfulfilled dreams to live here before committing myself to the Otherworld."

"As you must inevitably?"

"I know not. A witch is privileged to see the future of others but barred from seeing her own. All I have are my dreams, and neither world has yet promised to deliver me those dreams."

"If your stepfather, who took your favourite sister away, had taken you to the Otherworld, you would’ve been happy to have gone?"

"Aye, I would have gone in an instance but then I was a child and I knew only one world so I would have followed him anywhere. He took only Dubheasa with him and my mother wouldn’t allow him to take the other sisters. He told Dubheasa that he wanted to take all of us, because he was all our fathers. He couldn’t say long, so he returned to the Otherworld but was always drawn back to this world by his love for our mother Sabhadama.”

"And you believe that your stepfather somehow ‘fogged’ your mother’s mind every time he returned to this world and was actually all your sisters’ fathers?"

"We want to believe that. Dubheasa says that when he last returned to the Otherworld for good that he was in doubt about some of the girls’ parentage and was unable to convince Sabhadama that he was in truth her only husband. He had stayed here too long, that last time, almost ten years, and the fear from the Tuatha Dé was that the Treaty between the two worlds would be broken and that a new terrible war between the two peoples would ultimately destroy both worlds."

"Your father is therefore banished from this world?"

"Apparently so," she smiles as she stifles a yawn. "Sorry, I’m tired. Curses are not restricted to this world, Richard and I must endure mine in this world until the end of time, or until I am able to realise my dreams and go to that paradise, hopefully as a fulfilled woman and mother."

"You are tired, my dancing witch," I say, my own mind racing so much that I am too exhausted to think of consequences, "let’s talk on this more once we are refreshed and rested. Perhaps I can send off some DNA tests for you and your sisters."

“DNA tests?"

"Yes, they can tell your relationships, if you all have the same mother and father."

"Aye, Richard, that sounds a great idea! I’ll explain DNA to them. So, we can consider visiting the Otherworld in the daylight, when the Faerie Ring is not so overwhelming, and then you can meet all my lovely sisters."

"Now I definitely won’t sleep a wink!"