It was all coming to an end, I could feel it. Behind me, secreted in the trees surrounding the Library was Goll, Sherlock, aunt Lia and my mom, but I had no sense of illusion. I was going to face Aillen alone, and they would make sure Cliodhna didn’t stab me in the back while I did it, which of course, she was planning to do.
“Aillen,” I shouted arms held low and wide to show him I didn’t have any weapons. “We have unfinished business.”
The Dark Wizard was dressed, as usual, entirely in black. He was holding a crooked staff, which he promptly pointed at me.
“You have offended a Queen,” he shouted defiantly.
I strolled down to road where Aillen stood. His face, like his hands, was a deathly blue in colour. Although his purple lips reminded me of frozen food, his eyes blazed with an electric glow. I noticed that there were wisps of steam coming from his body. Even several feet from him I could feel the heat radiating.
“So, which Queen have I offended?”
He squinted and his eyes hardened in suspicion. “You know which one.”
“And for that I must die right? Is that all you creatures from Shi’ do, is kill? I mean don’t you guys ever take a holiday or something. Maybe, you say: ‘Oh, Mable, I think we should take the kiddies to Disney Land, you know, the new one, where they have no killing, only amusement rides and over priced fast food. Maybe, after we’ll take them to Marine World and watch the Killer Whales just swim. Wouldn’t that be novel, whales not killing?”
Aillen seemed a little put off and confused with my references. Obviously terrorists didn’t like to take any time off. I knew he was expecting me to fight, to come storming out and engage him full on. The approach I was taking was confusing him.
“You hear the one about the Doctor from Faerie. He had one treatment for everything: Broken back, shot it, broken leg, shoot it, split ends, shoot it.”
“Split ends?” he asked bewildered. “What are split ends?”
“That’s not fair,” yelled Cliodhna stepping out from behind the bank, down by the lights. She gave me a crooked smile and forced her face to hold it. “Poor Aillen is out of sorts. You can’t make him think of options.” She wagged her finger at me like I was a naughty boy. “You are muddying the water.” She stopped and looked around her suddenly realizing her white and black servants were no longer there. “Where are Sammy and Dean?” she yelled. “Where is salt and pepper?”
“Oh, I think you’ll find them taking a nap on the pavement behind the Library,” said Sherlock stepping in beside me. His timing was impeccable, but it was wrong. He was supposed to wait until we had dealt with Aillen, then he could step in and play hero.
“What are you doing,” I hissed at him. “I don’t know if it will protect both of us.”
He was leaning on his umbrella. “I doubt it would, my dear boy.”
Cliodhna was glaring at Sherlock. “What’s going on?” she said suspiciously. “Ciabhan, you come to me of your own free will?”
“It was never my idea to be separated from you, my love. There is a power, greater than both of us that holds us apart. Unrequited love is better than love lost. I keep away from you to spare you your heart.”
“I have no heart,” said Cliodhna in a bitter and broken voice. “It was ripped from my chest along with hope. Yet, you come to me now?”
I felt Sherlock’s hand on my shoulder. “Trust in hope, my pulse. It is said that when The Captain of The Finnan Finn returns then shall the spring flowers of Erin show their glorious faces to the sun.”
Aillen snarled, spitting flames. He wasn’t going to have anything to do with the ‘love in’ Sherlock was trying to create.
I knocked Sherlock out of the way and pulled my cape in over my head and in front of our bodies. As fast as I was, Sherlock was faster, he had pressed the button on his umbrella and it had opened in a great protective canopy. The blue flames bellowed over us, threatening to curve around our protection but never quite managing it. Apparently, Aillen had improved his fire power. Alone, there would have been no way my cape would have been able to withstand the flames. Sherlock was grimacing as the force of the flames pressed in on us.
“When the flames let up,” I told him. He wasn’t supposed to be here. His part was later. I couldn’t let the old fellow go up in flames. “Run for Cliodhna.”
It was strange, because as the flames pushed in on us and curled around, I noticed the traffic lights. Like before they were stuck on red, then they turned amber. Was I doing it again, like H suggested? Was I creating another worm hole? Were we causing another tare in the fabric of space and time?
I could feel the flames backing off, becoming lighter, the heat becoming less intense.
“Now,” I shouted dropping to the sidewalk.
Sherlock stumbled away like Mary Poppins, using his umbrella to balance himself with.
It was close, so close that I had the flashing thought that Goll indeed still wanted to be the Captain of The Finnan Finn. The spear whistled by my face and buried itself into the chest of The Brave Man of Shi’, into the heart of the interdimensional terrorist Aillen…..The Dark Wizard. My dad had been avenged.
I stood over the creature as he died, and watched as the life left his eyes which became black pools of nothing. But before he passed, I made sure he heard me. I whispered into his ear: “I am Fionn, the son of Uail mac Baiscne, and we have returned your spear.”
Then he died.
And of course, Cliodhna screamed. It was so full of anger and grief that I had to cover my ears. The lights at the intersection changed from red to green and the vortex in the middle of the street formed, swirling with light and darkness. It continued to whirl but then slowly stabilized. This time there was no show down with Cliodhna, she just turned, defeated, and began walking toward the worm hole.
Sherlock without saying anything just walked down the street and took her hand. They stood there, hand in hand, waiting.
What had happened to her wanting the Vault? What had happened to her wanting to kill my mom? In short, what were they waiting for? Just step through and be gone.
My mom, aunt Lia and Goll were there. He gave Aillen a nudge with his foot. “I do believe the Great Man of Shi’ is dead.”
My mom grasped the haft of the spear, pulled it out of the body and then ceremoniously thrust it back in. She looked a little bit like some warrior Queen from a forgotten time.
Aillen, in reflex, sat up and screamed and then flopped back down dead.
“Now, he’s dead. These creatures are hard to kill,” said my mother a grim look on her face.
“They are indeed,” said aunt Lia who had pulled out a long, wicked looking knife.
“What are you doing?” I asked her. “You’re not going to slice him up for dinner are you?”
“Your mother is right. He will come back to life. We have to make sure he doesn’t,” said my aunt who unceremoniously began sawing off his head.
I turned away from the grizzly scene. Sherlock and Cliodhna were still standing there staring into the swirling abyss.
“What are they waiting for?”
“Ciabhan told me,” said Goll, “that they need you to help heal Cliodhna.”
I turned to my mom. If there was anyone who would know it would be her.
“Go to them, Will. They’re waiting for you. If there’s anyone that can help them, you can.”
“She almost seems normal,” I whispered amazed at how placid Cliodhna seemed
Indeed, Cliodhna and Ciabhan seemed to be just a couple admiring the swirling vortex of the worm hole. Another time, another place, it might have been two lovers watching the sun set.
“Ciabhan is soothing the madness,” said aunt Lia urgently. She stood up the head of Aillen swinging from her hand like some over ripe fruit. “You better go. It won’t be long until she’s raving and demanding the blood of your mother again.”
“It will take us to the place where the well is?” I asked.
“Yes, it will. It is where it all began and where it should end,” explained Aunt Lia.”
“You need to go now,” said my mom. “You can do this.”
I took a great breath and walked down to where Sherlock and Cliodhna stood. Up close I could see the visible strain on Sherlock’s face, the sweat that was covering his face in a glossy sheen.
All together we walked into the wormhole.
The ride was relatively gentle. I only wanted to throw up once, and when we arrived there was no mist. We were standing on the shores of a lake. It was the same lake that I had seen in Blobby’s video.
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Sherlock was shaking, the strain too much for him. He collapsed. Cliodhna didn’t seem to notice. She continued staring at the island in the lake.
I knelt down and lifted Sherlock’s head off the course stone beach. He was coming around. “Are you all right?”
He gave a slight nod. “I’ll be fine. You’ve got to get her to this island. On the island there is a well. You have to get her to drink from it, leave a gift, take her into the water and submerge her.”
“Submerge her?” I said my thoughts going cold.
“Yes, do it three times.”
“Just one question, how do we get to the island?”
“You must swim.”
“You have to be kidding.”
Then, just as I needed him most, he passed out. Great, this was just great. Cliodhna was staring at the island oblivious to the fact that the love of her life had just lost consciousness. Bracing myself to the task, I stood up.
“Cliodhna,” I said clearing my voice. “We need to get to the island.”
She didn’t turn towards me, and from the layer of fog in her eyes she was anywhere but present. “Yes, Ciabhan. Yes, we must swim to the island.”
Like a snake striking she lashed out and fastened a hand around my wrist. Turning on me she gave me the old insane smile I have learned to fear. The light of madness danced in her eyes. The hold Sherlock had over her was now, obviously broken and insanity was flooding back in.
“I suppose it wouldn’t help, telling you I swim like a rock.”
With incredible strength she began to drag me from the beach, and into the shallows. I struggled, but there was no way to break her grip. Pretending to fall, I splashed down into the shockingly cold water and searched blindly for a rock. Finding one I was about to brain her with it when I stopped.
“Cliodhna, I want you to think.”
She stopped and turned to me as though I had said the most interesting thing in the world. “You want me to what?”
“I want you to think. Think about you and Ciabhan. Think about who is trying to stop you from doing this.”
I really didn’t know, but it seemed logical to me, that somebody had gone to incredible lengths to keep them apart.
“Apart?” She looked perplexed and then the flush of darkness infused her face with a dark complexion. “Oh, I know who is keeping us part. It’s Manannan mac Lir and his little jokes.” She raised her hand to the skies. “I will get to my island, and then we will see who laughs last. I will...” she gave a great tug and I lost the rock I was holding onto and she dragged out over my head. There, I promptly sank, and much to my amazement she let me go.
I watched as Cliodhna’s legs kicking as they propelled her through the water and away from me.
Healing Cliodhna had been a good idea, but there was one catch...insane people aren’t really that reliable. Looking wistfully up at the surface, I prepared to die. Then, shooting down through a cascade of bubbles an arm penetrated the water. A large hand clasped my wrist and pulled. I was pulled out of the water with such force that I flew through the air to land, not back into the water, but onto the dray surface of the strangest boat I had ever seen.
I have seen boats before, and this one, although silver, seemed very boat like. It had bows and a stern. What was strikingly different was it was pulled by a horse, a big white horse that could walk on water.
A long, leggy fellow in a kilt looked down at me as I coughed the water up out of my lungs. Picking me up like a rag doll, he gave me a couple powerful blows on my back and laughed.
“Better out than in wee little man.”
I continued to cough but struggled to stand. “I’m not a wee little man.”
“No offence intended.”
“You saved me, why?”
“I figured I was going to be giving you a ride either way, and since the living are a wee bit more entertaining, I decided to save you. Besides, I made your Da a promise.”
“Give me a ride either way...” then I realized he must have been talking about death. “You made a promise to my dad?”
Manannan gave me a brilliant, white, full toothed smile. I almost had to squint, his teeth were so white. “Yes, of course. It was a pleasure.”
Just then a scream reached us from the island, a scream of fury and anger.
Manannan looked at me and said defensively, “I didn’t do that.”
Sherlock had revived and was waving frantically to us. I cupped my hands to my mouth. We had drifted quite a way out onto the water. “What?”
Sherlock shouted back. “Pick me up...”
I turned to Manannan who was busy looking at a shiny, silvery part of his boat and adjusting his blond hair. “I think he wants to be picked up,” I said.
“Picked up,” he questioned, “he’s not even dead.”
“He was supposed to be with Cliodhna. He was supposed to get to the island with her.”
He gave a great sigh and pulled a petulant expression on his face. I could see he didn’t want to say anything more. Sherlock was yelling, but Manannan tried to ignore him.
“So, are you going to pick him up?” I asked about the gesticulating Sherlock on the shore.
“He could swim...” Another scream rent the air. “I suppose I could give him a ride, although Enbarr doesn’t like to pull too many people, especially living ones. Once, I had an entire group of partiers that died after the ship they were in sank. I think he still holds it against me.
The horse looked back at us, gave a derisive snort and rolled his eyes.
“It’s just one mare,” quipped Manannan.
Enbarr blew a raspberry at us.
Manannan flicked his reigns and the silver boat, amazingly, turned on a dime. We quickly made up the distance between where we had been and where Sherlock stood waving on the shore, but when we got there, he had changed.
No longer the decrepit but agile old man, he stood straight and youthful. His hair was the colour of gold and his smile had the same gleam that Manannan had, and I knew he wasn’t Sherlock or Ciabhan.
“Who are you?” I demanded. “What have you done to Ciabhan?”
Although his face was open and handsome there was a darkness that emanated from him. It gave me a feeling that something bad had either happened or was about to happen.
“My, oh great Captain of The Finnan Finn, slayer of The Dark Wizard of Shi’, your jocund nature seems mollified somewhat.”
He was mocking me, baiting me, wanting me to get upset.
I was about to ask him again who he was, but Manannan answered the question for me. “I didn’t want to pick him up because the last time I gave him a ride we had hurricanes for several months.” I could feel the air around us crackle with animosity. “Oh, I suppose introductions are in order. Fionn, this is Elatha, Elatha, Fionn, now, what are you doing?”
“Just changing the worlds,” he said, “just changing the worlds.”
The answer didn’t satisfy Manannan or myself. “What do you mean?”
“Give me a ride to the island, and I’ll reveal all.”
“Who is Elatha?” I asked. H had told me that if you can get someone to reveal their genealogy then it was like them giving you power over them. I didn’t really understand, but I figured I needed all the power I could get.
He gave me a mocking smile. “Elatha,” his said bowing, “Prince of the Fomorians, father of Bres, Dagda, Ogma, Delaeth and Eloth.”
“You’re Dagda’s father?” I spluttered, “but I liked Dagda.”
He arched an eyebrow in an observant way. “I take it you do not like me...” Not waiting for Manannan’s permission, he leapt aboard the boat. If it was possible, a more terrifying scream came from the island.
Manannan covered his ears. “Let’s do get there to put a stop to her yodeling, it irritates me so.”