The Book of Dreams (40 page)

The porter’s lodge was directly inside the gates. The porter, a student working part-time, let her in. His office was a small cupboard of a room with notice boards and wooden mail slots.

“I’m Dana Faolan,” she said, breathlessly, “a friend of Laurel Blackburn’s. She didn’t come back by any chance? Or maybe she rang? Or left a message?”

The porter looked contrite.

“You called earlier, didn’t you? Sorry, I only remembered after you hung up. She left something for you.” He took a thick envelope from Laurel’s mail slot. “Said you might pick it up at any time.”

A glimmer of hope. Perhaps Laurel had been called away by the other Companions? She could have tried to ring when Dana was talking to Jean.

“Someone came for her.”

The porter shuddered visibly, though he tried not to.

“What did he look like?” she asked quickly.

Again he tried to hide his revulsion.

“He … badly scarred …”

The death of hope. Dana stood stock-still as she absorbed the news. Her worst fears confirmed. There was no mistaking the description. Again she fought off the terror and held on to her courage. She had to get help for Laurel. And Gwen too.

Oh, let it not be too late, she prayed.

“Everything okay?” Gabriel asked her as she got into the car.

“She’s not there right now,” Dana said quietly.

There was nothing else to say.

• • •

Back home, Dana hurried into her bedroom and tore open the envelope. The contents gave her a shock. Wads of money! Thousands of dollars! There was also a note.

Dear Dana,

I’m so sorry. If you are reading this it means I have failed you and this is the best I can do. You mustn’t look for me or try to help me. There isn’t time. If there’s hope for any of us, it lies in the quest and the restoration of Faerie. Go west as soon as you can. Find Finvarra and Findabhair. Tell them to help you. Time is running out. The portals must be restored on Halloween when the two worlds cross. Use the money. It’s yours. Again, I’m so sorry if you are reading this. Be of good courage. I can only trust that we’ll meet again when the Kingdom is restored.

Yours,

Laurel Blackburn

Dana wanted to cry. Somehow Laurel had known that Crowley was coming for her. Yet, despite the terror she must have been feeling, she still thought of the quest. A true Companion of Faerie. A true hero.

“I won’t let you down,” Dana murmured.

Attached to Laurel’s note was a tour schedule with venues and dates. It took Dana a moment to understand what she was looking at: the itinerary of a musical group called the Fair Folk. Findabhair and Finvarra! She studied the dates. They had arrived in Vancouver a week ago and would be there over the weekend. Then they toured eastward with engagements in all the major cities. Dana frowned. They weren’t due in Toronto till early November. If Halloween was the deadline, weren’t they arriving too late? Had they other plans? She would soon find out.

Dana knew what she had to do. Yes, she would travel to Vancouver to meet Findabhair and Finvarra, but not to ask them to join the mission. Instead she would tell them to save Gwen and Laurel. She herself would continue the quest alone. She had done it in Ireland, she would do it in Canada. This was
her
mission. It was time she took full responsibility for it. According to Grandfather, something awaited her in the West. She would go to meet it.

With quiet resolve, Dana packed her bags. Then she went into the kitchen where Gabriel was making supper. It was spaghetti alla napoletana, a favorite of theirs from the days when they were a family of two. She joined him at the counter, cutting a crusty loaf in half, buttering the slices, and sprinkling them with garlic and basil. Gabriel had cooked the pasta and tomato sauce and was making a green salad. Loreena McKennitt sang melodiously on the CD player.
And now my charms are all o’erthrown. And what strength I have’s mine own.
They smiled at each other as they worked together, humming along with the music. It was like the old days in Ireland, when they always made their meals together.

In that cusp of time, Dana allowed herself to feel safe and happy. This was the calm before the storm. The night before the battle. She knew that evil was at the gate, crouched and waiting, but she also knew it couldn’t get in; for no dark thing could pass the Lord Ganesha’s protection. She would enjoy this moment with her father. Gabe himself was full of cheer, looking younger and livelier than he had in ages.

When Aradhana came home from work, they all sat down to the meal. Though there was plenty of laughing and joking, Dana felt sad. Soon she would end this bright moment. Her bags were packed. She was leaving that night. No matter what they said or did, they couldn’t stop her, as she was prepared to use her powers if necessary. She planned to tell Radhi first, then she would break the news to Gabriel. The three of them had faced a similar crisis in the past. She hoped that fact might ease the pain. On her last quest, Dana had left home without telling her father. At least she would give him fair warning this time.

It was when they were eating dessert that Dana noticed something odd. Radhi and Gabe kept exchanging furtive looks. Did they suspect something? But how could they?

After supper, Gabriel insisted on washing the dishes alone, ushering his wife and his daughter into the living room.

“For a talk,” he said nervously. “That’s what women do. Talk to each other. Talk.”

Aradhana was trying to hide her laughter. Gabriel shot her a look.

Intrigued and a little anxious, Dana sat down. “What’s up?”

Aradhana beamed at her stepdaughter and took hold of her hands.

“Dana, I will not beat about the bush. Your father is a typical man in such matters, that is to say, a coward. I am going to have a baby. You are going to have a sister or brother.”

Dana fought to control her features. Her stepmother’s face shone with joy. No wonder Gabe looked so happy! Her heart sank. If only she could feel the same way. But the timing was disastrous. She couldn’t possibly tell them anything now. It would be far too upsetting. Her only choice was to leave without letting them know and then call from Vancouver.

The loneliness descended over her like a pall. Hiding her dismay, she hugged her stepmother.

“I’m really happy for you, Radhi. I really am.”

Aradhana’s embrace was scented with jasmine. Holding back the tears, Dana rested her head on her stepmother’s shoulder. She could hear her father in the hallway, talking on the telephone.

“Thought you both should know. Yeah, aunties again! Well, someone has to pass on the genes. Neither of you will ever be mature enough to have kids.”

Dana’s eyes widened. She wasn’t alone!

Racing into the hallway, she grabbed the phone from her father and waved him back to the living room.

“Can I come over?” she demanded.

“Something wrong?” her aunt Yvonne asked immediately.

“We need to talk,” Dana said, and her voice was urgent. “Invite me to stay the night. No, several nights.
Please.
”

Few adults respond correctly to the melodramatics of a teenager, but Dana knew she was talking to one who would.

“
Pas de
prob. Put Gabe back on.”

Gabriel was sitting with Aradhana. He looked puzzled when Dana called him back to the phone.

“What—? But—” he stuttered into the receiver.

Dana could see the day was already won. She hurried back to her stepmother.

“Listen, Radhi. I’m going away for a few days. To visit my aunties. Please don’t feel bad. It has nothing to do with your news. I’m really happy for both of you and for me too. But, believe me, I’ve got something I have to do.”

Aradhana held Dana’s face in her hands and gazed into her eyes.

“Dana? Does this—?”

“Don’t make me explain. I can’t say more. Trust me, please?”

Aradhana didn’t look happy. She studied Dana’s face intently. What she saw there evidently convinced her. At last she nodded.

Dana hugged her again.

“Your baby is going to be very lucky to have you. Just like I am.”

• • •

Dana’s aunts lived in the loft of a chic warehouse that accommodated an art gallery, a craft shop, and several artists’ studios. Their loft was spacious, all skylights, wooden beams, and open planning. They had furnished it with futons, Afghan rugs, wall-to-wall artwork, shelves of books that reached the ceiling, and a music system any nightclub would envy. Having discovered they couldn’t tolerate anyone else on a regular basis, the two sisters had been living together for more than a decade.

Yvonne greeted Dana with a hug. Casually shooing her brother out, she shut the door behind him.

“You’ve missed Mexican night, kiddo. You should have called earlier.”

Her aunt was wearing a red-and-yellow poncho over embroidered mariachi pants. Behind her, the glass dining table was littered with leftover tacos and dregs of salsa. A half-empty bottle of tequila partnered a salt shaker and slices of lime. The lights were dimmed. Candles flickered around the room. The Gypsy Kings sang full-throated from the speakers.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dana said. “I don’t eat meat.”

“You could’ve had the refried beans,” Dee called from the kitchen area.

She came out carrying a big bowl of nachos and a smaller bowl of guacamole. Dressed in black, she wore tight leggings with a tatty sweater torn at the elbows, and big clumpy boots. Her brush-cut had changed color from blue to pink.

“Refried beans,” she repeated. “Could they have thought up a less attractive description?”

“Could be a direct translation,” Yvonne suggested.

“You can eat this,” Deirdre told her niece, setting the bowls on the table. “Suitable for vegetarians, and quite delicious. Also quite green.”

She burst into song.

How are things in guacamole?

Has the green gone brown and yucky yet?

Dana looked puzzled. Between fits of laughter, the aunts attempted to tell her about an Irish-American stageplay whose theme song was “How Are Things in Glocca Mora?”

“
Finian’s Rainbow,
” Dee said with awe. “Classic kitsch. First it was a cornball Broadway musical, then it went bizarro-world when they made it into a movie.”

“Oh, gawd, Fred Astaire’s abominable brogue!” Yvonne screeched. “And Petula Clark was his daughter!”

They howled till tears came down.

“I bet Coppola gets nightmares remembering that one,” Dee said.

“He was only twenty-nine,” her sister pointed out.

“I’m twenty-nine and you wouldn’t catch me making a clunker like that!”

Dana sank into a beanbag chair. Being with her aunts was always a leap into mayhem and madness.

“’Bout time you came to see us,” Dee commented. “It’s been forever since you were last here. Your first birthday in Canada, remember? We had to take a taxi to Gabe’s and drag you out.”

It was true. That was at the height of her rebellion. She had simply refused to go anywhere where she might enjoy herself. Most of the time she had stayed in her room, escaping to Faerie. How much things had changed!

“Don’t mind her,” Yvonne said, throwing her sister a look. “If you want to be moody, you go right ahead. It’s a teenager’s prerogative.”

“I would like to visit more often,” she assured them.

Dee grinned triumphantly at Yvonne.

“But I’m not really here for a visit,” Dana announced. Time was running out. She had to state her case. “I’m here to ask for your help. I have to go out west, to Vancouver. I’ve got the money. I just need you to take me.”

Producing the brown envelope, Dana emptied the pile of bills onto the table.

Her aunts’ eyes went huge. The look that flashed between them spoke volumes. Both were evidently remembering the night she stole Gran Gowan’s car.

“Who did you rob?” Dee asked outright.

“It’s the baby, isn’t it,” Yvonne said gently. “It’s totally freaked you out. You’re being replaced and—”

“No,” said Dana, exasperated. “I’m really happy about the baby. It’s got nothing to do with it. And I didn’t steal the money! This is something else, totally and utterly different.”

Her aunts were exchanging looks again.

Humor her,
their glances said.
The poor thing has cracked under the strain.

Aware that she was fast losing her audience, Dana was ready to grasp at straws. She glanced at the bookshelves that lined the walls, cluttered with fantasy and mythology. There was an entire shelf of Charles de Lint alone. She saw her chance. An opening into the truth. She pointed to the books.

“Did you ever think, either of you, that this stuff—magic, I mean—could be real? Could exist in the world?”

They were caught off guard by the question. They had been concentrating on Dana and were suddenly thrown back on themselves. They started to giggle. Both looked younger and a little shy.

Deirdre rubbed the pink stubble on her head.

“Kiddo, you’re looking at two people who spent a whole weekend in Ottawa searching for Tamson House.”

Dana recognized the reference to
Moonheart,
which they had given her to read.

“Didn’t find it,” Yvonne said with a sigh.

“Yet,” added Dee.

Dana took a quick breath. It was now or never. Putting her hands together, she offered her palms to the two of them. Light spilled out like liquid gold.

Deirdre’s face drained of blood. There is always a moment of terror when the other world knocks.
Every angel is terrifying.
A healthy fear of the unknown is ingrained in every animal, including humans.

“Okay, breathe through it,” Dee ordered herself quietly. She stood up to pace the room. “That’s it.
Breathe.
Life just got a lot more interesting.”

Yvonne sat so still she seemed to be in shock, but in fact her mind was racing.

“It’s to do with your mother, right?” she said finally. “Gabe’s first wife? I always knew there was something weird happening there. The whole thing was too odd and Gabe could never really explain it. Where she came from, who she was, why she had no family and then—poof!—she disappeared. Am I right or am I right?”