The Book of Dreams (12 page)

“It’s almost two months till Halloween,” she said with some relief. “At least that gives us time. What must Dana do and how can we help her?”

The silence on the other end of the line was worse than a scream. Gwen’s stomach clenched.
Here it comes.
Because she knew him so well, she had sensed it the moment she had heard his voice. Dara was hiding something.

“We don’t know,” he said at last. “We had hoped to learn more about Dana’s destiny from the Faerie Council, but that’s when …”

Gwen’s vision flashed through her mind. Dara and Granny sprawled on the ground.

She barely got the words out. “What happened?”

He didn’t try to cushion the blow. He was the King of Inch. Like many such kings in modern Ireland, on Tory, Aran, and other islands, he had no official authority; but the title was held proudly through the generations. In the realm of Faerie, it meant much more. The hereditary kings were the only Irish rulers acknowledged in that land. Dara had already proven his kingship in defense of the Summer Country. He was a hero there.

He spoke quietly, without emotion.

“On the day the gateways were destroyed, every member of our Company was attacked. Matt and Katie are both in the hospital. Some kind of coma. Matt collapsed over his desk at work. They thought at first it was a heart attack. Katie was found lying unconscious in a field, her cattle around her. As for Granny and I …”

For a moment his voice wavered. Gwen’s stomach clenched. She knew he couldn’t bear to hurt her. What terrible thing was he afraid to tell her?

“What?” she pressed, reminding herself that he was alive and talking to her.

“We were struck blind, Gwen. We are both blind.”

“Oh, my love,” she sobbed.

Now that the worst had been said, he moved to support her, speaking calmly and steadily to ease the shock.

“We were entering the portal at Dunfinn when it exploded. The High King and High Queen were on the other side, waiting to greet us. The great stones flew into the air and we were blasted backward. I lost consciousness. When I woke on the hillside everything was dark. I thought it was night. We had gone to the fort just after lunch. I crawled around till I found Granny. She was wounded but awake. That’s when we realized the truth.”

Gwen tried to hide the fact she was crying, but he stopped when he heard the muffled weeping. She was angry with herself. She knew she was making it all the harder for him.

“Go on,” she said at last, taking a deep breath.

“We’ve been in the hospital since then. We were released today. Judging by the state of Katie and Matt, we didn’t fare too badly. We’re disabled but not defeated. We’ll manage, I can promise you that. Granny has ordered a computer that responds to word commands. She’ll be in touch with you as soon as it’s up and running. I’ve moved in with her for now. We can help each other. You know the two of us. The indomitable Irishry. We just need time to adapt. The worst of it is we can’t come to join you. We’d be more of a hindrance than a help right now.”

Gwen was still trying to absorb the enormity of what had happened.

“I felt the blow,” she said, dazed. “I saw you struck down. And Laurel, the High Queen’s sister, felt it too. But how come we weren’t hurt?”

“Granny says the protective spirits of North America can counter any spell. But you’re not clear of danger. Whoever or whatever dark force this is, it is bound to come after you and, particularly, Dana.”

A chill ran up Gwen’s spine as she remembered Dana’s school. She told Dara what had happened there.

“You must look out for the girl!” he urged. “She’s our only hope. This is her destiny. How she must fulfill it we don’t know yet, but Granny will keep trying to find out. You can count on that. And as soon as we know something, we’ll let you know. Until then, you must guard her. You must keep her safe.”

“We can do it,” she assured him. “Laurel and I are on it.”

Gwen managed to sound more confident than she felt. She was determined to match his resolve with her own. He had enough to deal with. She could hear the weariness in his voice. He was obviously still recovering.

But even as their conversation drew to a close and the initial shock wore off, she began to feel the first waves of real pain.

“Dara,” she murmured.

“You must be strong, my love. There is always hope. And I am happy to know that you are not alone in this.”

• • •

After she hung up, Gwen stared dazedly at the telephone for a while. It took all her willpower not to ring him back and tell him she was flying out that night. And when she had won that battle, she canceled her flight. There was no doubt in her decision. She would stay and do her duty. He wouldn’t be happy if she did otherwise and neither would she. Whether big or small, they had their parts to play. Their love would have to wait.

Gwen was about to ring Laurel to tell her the news when the phone rang again.

“Gwen?”

“
Findabhair!
Thank God you’ve called! Are you okay?”

It was more than a year since Gwen had last seen her Irish cousin and that had been a flying visit. Findabhair was so immersed in her musical career along with her husband, Finvarra, that she had little time for anything else.

“Aside from being knackered, I’m grand,” came the familiar voice. “Too many days on the road. Too much
craic agus ceol
. I got your message. Sorry, but I haven’t had a free minute till now. What’s up?”

“We’ve got a serious problem,” Gwen began. “Faerie—”

“Trouble in Paradise?” Findabhair’s tone was wry. “Are we surprised?”

Quickly Gwen outlined the situation. Even as she spoke, she thought she detected a slight coolness on the other end of the line, or was she imagining it? Longdistance calls were rarely satisfactory. California was even farther away than Ireland.

“How soon can you and Finvarra get here?”

“Whoa, that’s not on,” Findabhair said quickly. “Sorry, but we’re in the middle of a major tour here. It took over a year to put this together. A lot of planning and money. We can’t leave our backers high and dry. There are concerts booked solid along the West Coast and then across Canada. We’ll be in Toronto mid-November. We’ll meet up with you then.”

Gwen could hardly believe what she was hearing. Perhaps she hadn’t explained properly? Hadn’t conveyed just how bad things were?

“That will be too late!” she cried. “We’ve got to open the portals on Halloween. It’s our only chance! Don’t you—”

“You’re not listening to me, cuz. You’ll have to count us out. I’m sorry about Dara and Granny and the others. I really am. But we’re not in a position to help them right now. We can’t sacrifice our lives for Faerie again. It’s someone else’s turn.”

Gwen could hardly think. “But you were once High Queen and Finvarra was the First King! How can you abandon the Summer Land like this? You know how important it is!”

“And you know I haven’t been there since Finvarra lost his kingship.” Findabhair’s voice went cold. “He can’t go back, and I’d never go there without him. We did our bit for Faerie and we paid the price. We owe nothing to the Realm.”

As the truth finally hit home, Gwen was left speechless. Neither Findabhair nor Finvarra would come to Faerie’s aid. The bitterness in her cousin’s tone shocked her. How long had it been there? A quick survey of the past showed Gwen what she had failed to notice. It was actually several years since she had last met Finvarra. Only Findabhair had made the effort to stay in touch. Even then, the meetings were always brief, and they rarely if ever talked about the other world. There it was before her, as plain as day to see, her cousin’s disaffection from Faerie. How could Gwen have been so blind?

She knew the answer to that question. Laurel had more than hinted at it from to time. When it came to Faerie, Gwen wore rose-colored glasses. She couldn’t see anything wrong with that magical land. Nor could she bear to think that others might not love it as deeply as she did.

“Oh Finn,” she said. “I’ve been so stupid. I didn’t realize how unhappy you were about—”

“Don’t,” said her cousin. There was an echo of sadness in Findabhair’s voice, but then her usual dry humor came through. “It’s not your fault. You were always a dope.”

“That’s me,” Gwen agreed with a little sigh. “I miss you, cuz.”

“I miss you too. But I’ll see you in November. I promise. We’ll have a long chat then. And Gwen?”

“Yeah?”

“It’ll work out. You’ll see. As long as he has you, Dara will be fine. I really believe that. And you’ll get the job done. Look, you quested all over Ireland without me, remember? You were the real hero of the Hunter’s Moon.”

“Thanks,” Gwen said, and she meant it. “Good luck with your tour.”

When her cousin rang off, Gwen knew she should call Laurel with the latest news. But she didn’t. Instead, she turned out the lights and lit candles around the room. Sitting on the sofa, she gazed out the window. Her apartment was on the thirteenth floor, high above the city, with a bird’s-eye view of rooftops, streets, and patches of greenery. In the lambent quiet, she watched the night fall.

Gwen was mourning the loss of the Company of Seven. Her friends and comrades-in-arms would not be with her in Faerie’s hour of need. Even as the Earthworld was severed from the Land of Dreams, so too was she cut off from those who sustained her.

“I should call Laurel,” she told herself. “We’ve got work to do.”

Still she didn’t move. Cloaked in loneliness, she stared out at the dark.

F
or the week following Dana’s nightmare with Crowley, Gran Gowan got her wish, and kept her granddaughter in Creemore. The Triumph Herald was repaired at a body shop for vintage cars, and the family doctor gave Dana a clean bill of health. The police decided to let the matter go, dismissing it as teenage antics in an otherwise respectable and law-abiding family. Remembering Dee and Yvonne, the sergeant simply rolled his eyes. He was glad to hear the girl normally resided in Toronto.

As soon as the others had gone back to the city, Maisy Gowan turned her full attention to her wayward charge. The first thing to go was the nose ring. Then the black clothes. Several shops in Creemore stocked young people’s fashions. Dana was allowed to choose her new wardrobe as long as the colors were bright. A visit to the beauty salon was, for Dana, the oddest experience, especially since the clientele were her grandmother’s age. However, she liked the hairstyle she got, trimmed and tapered, and she listened politely to the advice on makeup and skin care. In fact, Dana was prepared to do anything to gain her grandmother’s forgiveness and regain her trust. It was a bonus that she liked what she saw in the mirror.

Dana also enjoyed spending time with Gran Gowan, strolling through the town, sipping hot chocolate in the Tea Room, and chatting on the veranda as the evenings grew short. All of it helped to push the horror of that terrible experience away. And though Dana offered no explanation for what happened that night, she had shown enough remorse to satisfy her grandmother. By the time Dana returned to Toronto, the two were fully reconciled.

• • •

Back at home, there was a tearful reunion between father and daughter. Gabriel was delighted with the change in Dana, not only the brighter appearance but her more open manner.

In her own bed that night, Dana stared at the ceiling. She couldn’t sleep. Tomorrow she had to return to school. The time with her grandmother had been a respite, the calm before the storm. Though much of what occurred on the Mulmur Road was a hideous daze, she knew one thing for certain: both her teacher and Jean were somehow involved. The very thought shook her to the core. How could she face them? More importantly, how could she protect herself? She was overwhelmed by the mystery, helpless and powerless.

Sick with dread, Dana turned fitfully to face the window. She always opened her curtains at night. Outside, the street lamp shed light on the treetops. Leafy shadows danced into her room. She blinked for a moment. What was out there, in the branches? A pale blurred shape. Her eyelids felt too heavy to lift. Falling into sleep at last, a thought fluttered through her mind.

You must change your life.

• • •

The next morning, Dana steeled herself as she walked into the classroom. Her first surprise was that Crowley was gone. In his place was a plump and pretty young woman with a pleasant manner. She handed Dana a note for her parents. The school regretted the unforeseen departure of Mr. Crowley, but hoped everyone would be satisfied with his replacement.

The second surprise was that Jean was also missing. His seat was empty. Dana was baffled. What could this mean? With a pang of disappointment, she accepted that it confirmed her suspicions that the two were connected; yet she couldn’t shake the uneasiness that plagued her. Something wasn’t right. Every time she remembered Jean sprawled on the road, she felt a wave of shame.

It was in the cafeteria at lunch hour that she heard the news. Two senior girls ahead of her in the queue were talking.

“Did you hear that French boy got mugged? Found in High Park in a really bad way. Early in the morning.”