The Fire Opal (27 page)

“I was sure it was Francisco,” I said. “It seemed like him the entire time, until the very end.”

They nodded with compassion and spoke gently to me in Spanish.

“Sabemos, niña.”

“No te preocupes.”

“Todo va estar bien, niña querida.”

And though I did not understand every consolation they muttered, I tried to take comfort.

CHAPTER 22

I
knew we were close to the barge when I saw the wall of mist ahead. To my surprise,
Mananan’s Vessel
was there rocking on the waves. I waved goodbye to the Spanish ghosts and, carrying the candelabra, leaned into the open air. The dress, swelling with wind, lifted and carried me down toward the little boat. Struggling to steady myself as I stepped into it, I dropped the candelabra and it fell into the sea.

I looked over the side and saw it sinking deeper and deeper, turning gracefully as it did, flames still alight.

Just at that moment, coming from the direction of the barge, a boat penetrated the mist. Standing at its center was Tom Cavan, an awful composure about him, his face strange and heavy, not a muscle stirring.

I stood up with shock and realized that he was another
two or three inches taller. He wore a new coat of rich crimson velvet, embroidered with gold thread and pearls. His hair had grown even longer and hung in thick lion-colored waves near his shoulders.

The entire world went quiet as his boat reached mine, bumping into its stern. My backbone froze as he towered over me.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

I remembered Danu’s words that I should play on the mistrust between Uria and Tom. “I am not supposed to tell you….”

The silence intensified. The wind hummed as it blew his hair.

“Tell me.”

“I have been on an errand.”

“An errand for whom?”

When I remained silent, his eyes narrowed.

“For Uria,” I said, “but I promised not to reveal what it was about.”

He stared at me.

With a sudden impulsiveness, I said, “I’ll tell you everything if you release my mother and sister from the ice.”

He focused on me with a sardonic expression, the wind still blowing his hair. “They aren’t in the ice any longer.”

My head rang. I wanted to speak, but I could not find the words.

“I told you that if you betrayed me in any way, I would enclose them in darkness, and that’s what I’ve done. They are in the iron boxes.”

Nausea rose in my stomach. “I won’t tell you what I know unless you release them and let them go back to their bodies at Ard Macha.”

“No, Maeve O’Tullagh. You don’t set the conditions for anything here. Tell me everything and I won’t drop the boxes into the sea, where they’d likely never be found.”

“Uria wanted me to find out the location of something,” I blurted out.

“Of what?” he demanded.

“A certain”—I paused for effect—“weapon.”

A muscle on his upper lip contracted. “And did you find out where it is?”

I did not answer but touched my pocket, pretending to check on something.

“What do you have there?” he demanded.

I hesitated.

“Give it to me.”

I tried to appear as reluctant as possible as I took out one of Danu’s maps drawn on the hardened silk, the location of the bog near Rosscoyne highlighted with gold thread.

He took it roughly.

“Where did you get this?”

“A servant of the goddess Danu gave it to me. A Swan Woman whom I met in the waters of the Shee.”

“This is a bog, south of Ard Macha,” he said, studying it. “Near Rosscoyne.”

The wall of mist behind him exuded humidity like soft white smoke. He froze a moment, his eyes searching
mine, then asked, “Why would she give you that information?”

My mind raced for an answer. “Because she wants me to get it myself and bring it back to Danu.”

“I have heard that the weapon cannot pass through the Realm of the Shee into the Other World.”

“Seven centuries have passed. Now it can be brought to the Holy Isles,” I said.

He looked at me skeptically, our two boats rocking on the uneven waves. “Why do you tell me all this so willingly?”

I knew I should have held back longer to make my lie more convincing, but my unease over Mam and Ishleen made me desperate. “I want you to release my mother and sister.”

This was true, but it also seemed to satisfy him in regard to my carelessly executed lie. As he studied the map further, I could not hold myself back from crying out, “Please take them out of the boxes!”

A little smile lit his deadened features, and I saw a flash of the boyhood Tom Cavan. “If I find the weapon with the help of the map, then I will release them. I’ll even send them back to Ard Macha, but
only
if I find the weapon here.”

He took a step closer, towering over me. Taking note of my confused expression, he puffed up his chest and said, “Do you know, Maeve, how a man becomes a god? By refusing to be bound by human limitation. I have learned a great deal from Uria. When you hear her heartbeat at the
core of this barge, you must understand that it is pure obsession that drives her, an ancient grudge she keeps against the goddess Danu. Everything here, this entire barge, is driven by that obsession.

“But we are at the dawn of a new age, and new gods will reign.” He looked at the map. “It is good that you’ve given me this. Still, you and I have a long way to go.”

I remained nervously silent. I felt his attention on me soften, and averted my eyes.

“This palace … this barge,” he said, pointing into the mist, “would not be such a bad place to spend eternity, would it?”

“It’s too cold,” I said.

“There’s plenty of blue fire.”

“That doesn’t make anyone warm.”

“It’s very strong in some situations. You saw the burns on those little girls’ arms and hands.”

“Those are ice burns,” I said. “Anyone living here is on the verge of freezing all the time.”

“You can grow accustomed to it. I have. I have learned to experience the warmth of the fire.”

“It is only the illusion of warmth,” I said. “It isn’t real.”

“Maybe the illusion is enough, Maeve,” he said with a softly challenging expression.

“No,” I said plainly.

He looked annoyed, and was about to say something else when another boat appeared through the mist, three of Uria’s “ladies” in their human forms standing on deck.
“They are coming with me,” Tom said. “They are turning their allegiance over to me because they understand that we are at the dawn of a new age. They know how weak Uria is. All of them will eventually be loyal to me.”

I noticed that some of the misbegotten mermaids were circling near the surface around his boat, peering up worshipfully at him through the water. A few suddenly hoisted themselves into the air, making whimpering noises.

“They are with me, too. The truth is, all of them are ready, as soon as power changes hands, to come to my side.”

Mrs. Cavan appeared on her own small boat immediately after the vulture women. Tom addressed her sternly. “Make sure Maeve does not get away. I’ll be back in a day or so, I hope.” He turned and looked at me as one of the vulture women tied my hands behind my back. “If you see Uria, you will tell her nothing. Do you understand? Nothing about the things you’ve shared with me. If you do, the two iron boxes will be dropped into the sea.” His eyes sparkled. “Our wedding will go on as planned, after I’ve found what I’m looking for.”

At this, the mermaids grew distressed and swam in sputtering, frantic circles beneath my boat, causing it to rock so that I thought I’d fall in.

“Stop!” Tom yelled.

So admonished, they retreated into the depths, and the water went still.

Looking both amused and proud, Tom glanced expectantly at me to see if I was impressed, but I refused to offer any sign that I was.

“I’m sure that you will behave from now on, but if it is the case that I must always hold something over your head, Maeve O’Tullagh, so be it. Even when we are married to each other. I’m already prepared to do that. You will see what I mean, soon enough.” He smiled as he focused on me, then his boat moved away and he was gone.

One of the vulture women ordered me to get into Mrs. Cavan’s boat, and then she climbed in, too. We docked at the barge, went up the stairs, then passed through a frigid corridor until we reached a vacant room where three ice sculptures stood. I approached cautiously. Both Mam’s and Ishleen’s statues were dark, a single tiny hole drilled into both their necks, and I assumed that was how their ghost souls had been drawn out. My entire being pulsed with remorse. It was because of my weakness that this had happened to them. I could hardly bear to imagine what each one was feeling, enclosed in the airless dark boxes. I stood before them, unable to leave.

“You should look at the third statue, Maeve,” Mrs. Cavan said.

I glanced over. It was an ice sculpture of me.

I stared at it in shock. It was like looking in a mirror and seeing myself petrified and translucent. Clearly Tom had ordered it himself, because it wore an angry, defiant expression.

“That’s what he meant, you know,” Mrs. Cavan said. “Your ghost soul could easily be put into this. I’ve seen it done. It is an unbelievably simple process.”

The vulture woman eyed me and smiled.

“Let’s go,” Mrs. Cavan demanded.

As we continued on, I saw some of the tundra girls peering at us from the frozen entrance of a corridor.

“Go away!” Mrs. Cavan cried, waving an arm in their direction. I noticed Breeze and the other ash girls with them, cleanly dressed for a change. It must have been the true fire that had helped them escape the basement dungeon, I thought.

I gave a meaningful look to Gudrun and Breeze, then said aloud as if to Mrs. Cavan, “Where are the black iron boxes with my mother and sister in them?”

“Do you really think I’d tell you?” Mrs. Cavan sneered.

She and the vulture woman led me into the vast room outside the chapel of the frozen mothers and tied my hands to two metal rings ensconced in the wall, then left, locking the door.

For a long time there was only silence. I fell into a shivering sleep.

I was swimming down, trying to find Danu’s candelabra. I saw it burning very far below, naked men swimming around it. One of them clutched it beneath the burning candles, the flames waving slowly in the current. I saw his figure become slender and darker before it disappeared with the candelabra in an undulating swim.

I awakened suddenly. Gudrun and Breeze had come in. We listened closely to see if Uria was eavesdropping, but we could not feel the pulse of her heartbeat. “She has
been listening obsessively to Mrs. Cavan and to Tom,” Gudrun said, “and maybe even to the vulture women she might be suspicious of. She knows something is going on.”

“How did you undo the lock?” I whispered

“With the flame,” Breeze answered, moving aside her jacket and showing me a necklace with a bottle containing a vibrant red flame similar to the one the Swan Woman had given me years back. “Everything here on this barge softens and responds immediately to contact with true fire.”

Breeze introduced the flames to the knots on the ropes around my hands, and they gave way quickly.

“Didn’t they notice that you’d escaped the dungeon?” I asked Breeze as she and Gudrun worked hard to unravel the ropes.

“They pay so little attention to us, and think us of so little consequence,” she answered. “And without blue ashes on us, we are no different from the others.”

“And the vulture women,” Gudrun said, “are so disorganized and so distracted because they are sure Tom Cavan will soon be coming into power. There are a few that are still unsure and are afraid to betray Uria. Those are the ones we watch out for more. They have more interest in what goes on here.”

At last, I was completely untied. I rubbed my wrists and forearms, chafed and sore from the ropes.

“Do you know where the iron boxes are?” I asked.

“They’re in Mrs. Cavan’s room. She demanded tea before taking her nap. Trillip hid inside behind the curtain,
crept about and watched until she found them hidden under the bed. She was going to try to take them then, but she must have made some noise, because Mrs. Cavan woke and sat up in her bed. Trillip managed to escape but without the boxes. At least we know where they are.”

I told them about my meeting with Danu and how she’d instructed me to look for a druid wheel camouflaged among navigational equipment. “It has a triple spiral emblem forged on it,” I said with quiet urgency. “If we can somehow loosen that wheel and let it release from its stuck position, time and vitality might return to the air of this barge. Every frozen soul will be released. The real fire will help us find it. Otherwise, the search will be difficult. False light will only keep it hidden.”

“There are a few places on this barge with a lot of wheels and pipes,” Breeze said.

“One place,” I added, “is downstairs in the basement where you lived.”

“Having spent seven centuries in that basement, I can guarantee you that there isn’t one with a druid symbol.”