The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1) (15 page)

I stood and began pacing around the room.  My
mind was having a hard time wrapping itself around all the incoming info – gods
and myths and curses.  Shapeshifting was a crazy enough notion, and one I
was still wrestling with, but now to learn that the stories told in mythology
somehow had a basis in fact…that had my brain reeling.

“Are you ok?” Bram whispered as he stood in front
of me, blocking my pace.

“Um…no! I don’t know what the heck you’re talking
about!” I answered loudly, texting at the same time, my fingers slipping on the
keypad.

Bram took hold of my shoulders, “Willow, please
relax.  I know this is a crash course in Irish mythology and hard to
understand in such a short amount of time, but after the weird encounters
you’ve had…well…” Bram looked over at the Kleenex with its wrapped contents.

“Is
that
related to what you’re telling
me?” I asked, nodding to the claw.

“Quite possibly. No…even more than that, quite
probably.”

I shook my head trying to rationalize everything.
None of it was making any sense, but the expression on Bram’s face told me that
this was all very real and that the sooner I accept it, the better.

“Wait, you said that you and I are two of three
people who have ancestors who date back to Ireland’s early days,” my fingers
were dancing wildly on the keypad. “Who’s the third?”

 “The third is a woman who moved to Italy
five months ago.  It was about that time that we began having problems
here.” Bram’s expression grew tight, a look I’d never seen on him before. “When
she left without warning that opened the door for the return of the
tribulation.”

I stepped over to the table and pulled back the
tissue resting on top of the claw.  I touched the top of it and tried to
imagine what it might have come from.  I looked at Bram with raised
eyebrows. “Do you have any idea what this belonged to?”

“Not sure; we’ll have it to show my da.” 
Bram joined me at the table and sat down.

I took my seat and reflected a minute.  “So
where are the Tuatha?  You said they were forced into the otherworld…what
is that, like hell?”

Bram shook his head, “No, not at all.  The
otherworld is said to be under the earth, but it’s a place of great peace and
joy.  The Tuatha were free to live there and practice their magic without
the worry of future invasions.  Many of them created another dimension for
themselves and eventually moved on.  Some stayed to keep watch over the
surface.”

“Why don’t they fight off the…” my mind went
blank.

“The tribulation?” Bram asked. “Any remaining
Tuatha stay hidden in the otherworld, only appearing during times of serious
mortal upheaval or when called upon by their chosen ones.  They can’t
actively participate in any earthly occurrences, since they’re otherworldly
beings, but they’re fully aware of what transpires here on the surface. 
From what my father has told me they make contact only when the chosen ones
have located the sidhe that was created by the god of light.”

 “Sidhe?” I wondered aloud. 

“Sidhes are mounds of earth located all over
Ireland.  Many believe they’re the homes of the fey’s – fairy
people.  But in reality, sidhes were created by the Tuatha as entrances to
the otherworld. They’re where otherworldly creatures can once again set foot on
the surface.”

“And just how are we supposed to find the sidhe or
do you already know where it is?” My headache was threatening a return. We had
just gone from incredible to surreal in less than five minutes.

“I’m not sure.  It wasn’t something that we
even spoke about other than for my da to tell me that it existed.  I don’t
know if he’s got any idea where it’s located.”  Bram blinked his eyes
rapidly then reached into his pockets and pulled out a small bottle of eye
drops.  He leaned his head back and placed a couple of drops in each eye.

“So your dad, he knows all about this stuff then?”

“Aye, he knows, he calls himself the
Keeper of
the Knowledge
.”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile when he said
that…
Keeper of the Knowledge
.  It sounded so Harry Potter. 
Bram saw my reaction and started laughing.  He stood up and put one hand
on his hip and pretended to hold a staff in the other. Holding his head high,
he said in a nasally American accent, “Just call me the Keeper of the
Knowledge.”  We both started laughing.  He grabbed hold of my left
hand and raised it, saying, “And you shall be called Keeper of the…” he looked
around the room and grabbed a glass sitting on the table.  “You shall be
called Keeper of the Water Glass,” thrusting it into my hand and lifting my
arm. 

I stood and raised my chin into the air. “I am
Keeper of the Water Glass, you may bow now,” I answered in my best Queen
Elizabeth impersonation. Too bad Bram couldn’t hear it.

At this point we were both laughing
uncontrollably.  I know it wasn’t because we were really funny; actually,
we were being kinda lame… it was just that our intense conversation needed an
intermission.  I sat on the edge of the bed holding my side, still
laughing with tears running down my cheeks.  Bram sat by my side shaking
his head. He reached over and grabbed my hand.  I finally composed myself
and rested my head on his shoulder.

 It was so hard to believe that we’d met only
one week ago.  Sitting here with him felt so natural, just like every
other time we’d been together –but even more so now, since the discovery of our
connection to the past. I wondered if that was why I felt so at ease with
him.  I looked over as he turned his face to me.  He leaned in and
gently and kissed the tip of my nose, “Don’t worry, Willow, we’ll work through
this together.”

 I once again rested my head on his shoulder
and closed my eyes.  He put his arm around me and pulled me in
closer. 

“So what happens next?” I typed.

“I guess the next thing is to get with my father
and tell him that you now know the story.  He’ll want to see you and
explain more.  I know you have lots of questions,” he answered rubbing my
shoulder.  “Plus, he’s going to need to see this,” he added, taking hold
of the claw.

Suddenly a thought jumped into my head. I turned
so I could face him, “Bram, I’m confused; if shapeshifting has been passed down
to us, then are you saying that my dad’s a shapeshifter too?”

“No, the ability skips a generation, usually with
that offspring becoming more of a caretaker of the previous shifter and the
shifter who comes next.  My father doesn’t have the ability, but his
father did until he became ill and died.  At that time the power shifted
to me, with my da preparing me and keeping record of the generations of
shifters.”

“Keeping record?  Has he kept record for all
three shifters?” I wondered.

“Aye, he inherited the job about ten years
ago.  To be honest I’m not sure who was doing it before.  My da has
been filling me in gradually so as to not ‘overwhelm my senses,’ as he says. I
think it’s been a fairly uncomplicated task since the ancestry for the most
part has remained regional, here in Killarney – up until the third shifter,
Lucy Mallory, moved to Italy. Even with your dad living in the US, Da could
keep track through your grandma.”

As Bram mentioned Grandma, the realization of my
lineage came crashing down around me in visions of Shannah. 

“If shifting skips a generation then you mean that
my grandmother was the shifter and that now the reason I have the ability is
because she’s dead?”  I stood up and took to pacing the floor once again,
my brain flooded with all the implications.  Questions came pouring in so
fast I couldn’t finish one before the next arrived; did Dad know about Grandma?
Did Grandpa know? What happened to her? Was the shifting the cause of her
death?  I stopped in my tracks and stared at Bram, his concerned face
waiting for the barrage.

“We need to speak to Da Willow; he can help you
understand and can explain better than I can.  I just started shifting
myself after my grandfather died.  The transition isn’t easy but we’re
here to help you.”

“Bram, are our grandparents’ deaths related to the
shifting?”  I punched on my phone worriedly.

Bram read my text and furrowed his brow.  He
once again rose and held onto my shoulders, “My grandfather’s wasn’t but…
there’s a very real possibility that Shannah’s was.  And not so much
related to the shifting but to the relocation of Lucy Mallory.  When she
left Killarney, things began to change.  I told you that a tribulation had
been placed on this area and its people, and that the shifters were the key to
holding it in check.  Do you remember when we ran into each other at the
‘Hungry Toad’ gift shop?” His brown eyes began picking up the golden hues
drifting in through the window from the setting sun.

“Yes, I remember,” I said, becoming aware of the
change of lighting in the room.

“And do you recall the symbol you had been looking
at and asked me about?”

The Triquetra symbol flashed in my
head.   The same symbol I saw that day with Bram, the symbol that
made its mysterious appearance in my dream a short time later and announced
itself to me. 

“Of course, you called it the Triquetra.” I
grabbed hold of the pendant dangling from the necklace Dad had given me. “That
same day my Dad surprised me with this.”  I held the chain and its
dangling charm in the air for Bram to inspect.

“Your dad gave it to you? Interesting.”  Bram
examined it closely then let it drop back into place around my neck. “It’s very
powerful and the symbol for the shapeshifters.  It refers to three earthly
elements: the earth, the sky, and the sea.  You’re the creature of the
earth, I’m of the sky, and Lucy was of the sea.  When she left, a big
piece of the Triquetra was lost, creating an opening in the barrier of protection. 
Da believes that her leaving, along with the fact that my shifting skills were
relatively new, allowed the tribulation to begin reforming itself. 
Shannah was older and her abilities, although they were still strong, were
being stretched to the breaking point.”

I felt a strange pressure on my heart as Bram
spoke about Shannah.  The photographs that Grandpa had of her life didn’t
in any way share the immense burden that had been placed on her.  The
black-and-white images of a young smiling woman didn’t show what her everyday
existence must have been like, a tie to the ancient past that flowed through
her blood and changed her entire being.  A protector, a mother, a wife,
and who knows what other expectations were placed upon her shoulders. 

I didn’t cry for my grandmother when I learned of
her death.  I didn’t cry at her funeral or when I saw her images
permanently pressed onto the sepia-toned photographs at my grandfather’s house,
her house.  Up until now it was hard for me to even imagine her as a real
person.  But she was.  She had been my age once; she had friends,
dreams, hopes for the future.  She fell in love; had a family, a home, and
an unspoken ability to become something quite important and necessary for the
survival of all that she loved.

When the realization of my grandmother’s humanity
hit me, I began to weep.  The sorrow I felt was overwhelming.  Sorrow
for never knowing her, sorrow for the burden she had to bear, and sorrow for
the son who abandoned her.  I fell to the floor and pulled my knees up to my
chest, burying my face, and wept.   The pain came from a place
unknown to me.  I had never felt a sorrow so deep and profound before.

Bram dropped down beside me and wrapped his arms
tenderly around my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Willow,” he whispered softly and held
me close, gently rocking back and forth. 

Life is so weird.  One minute everything is
fine, routine, boring even.  Then the next…BAM!  The world comes
crashing down.  I remember one time, when I was about nine, Mom and I had
been out running errands when a dog suddenly ran in front of our car. 
Despite the fact that Mom swerved and almost got us killed in an attempt to
save the stray, we still hit it.  Mom quickly stopped the car and jumped
out, yelling at me to stay put, which of course I didn’t.  The sight of
the black-and-white mutt spread out under our car left me with the sickest
feeling I’d ever known. 

That feeling was back as I sat out on the balcony
of our hotel taking in the beauty of the sunset.  Bram had to leave to
pick up his dad and the loneliness that overshadowed me was palpable, along
with a very real sensation of having just aged about ten years in the last
hour.  I stuck the buds from my iPod in my ears and scrolled through my
playlist.  I quickly found a song that reflected my somber mood.  It
was from one of Dad’s old CDs. 

In a New York Minute
Everything can change
In a New York Minute
Things can get a little strange
In a New York Minute
Everything can change

I joined in singing with Don Henley and the rest
of the Eagles, thinking how true it was.  Everything had changed. 
And not just in some small, inconvenient way but in that forever way…that,
I’ll
never be the same
way.

I remembered feeling that when Mom and I picked up
the little stray dog and rushed it to the veterinarian, hoping that the poor
thing would survive.  The vet shook his head, saying it didn’t look good
and that probably the best thing to do would be to put the dog down.  Mom
asked if there was any chance the pup could pull through, to which he said,
yes, albeit a small one.  So Mom told him to do what he could.  While
she spoke to the vet I stared at the little mound of black-and-white fur and
prayed for the pup’s recovery.  My dreams were disturbed that night by
images of the little dog.  I’d been a happy-go-lucky nine-year-old,
sheltered from crummy things for the most part and now realized that bad things
happen.  The loss of innocence.  I felt that again today.  I’d
never again be as carefree as I was just a few weeks ago.

The air had begun to chill so I pulled my knees up
to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs.  I was lost in thought
when I heard the door open in the main room.  Dad looked at me on the
balcony and then tossed the car keys on the bed. He went straight into the
bathroom without saying a word.  Minutes later he came out and stared down
at me, the dark circles under his eyes accentuating the blue-gray color. 

“How is everything, Dad?” I asked reaching for his
hand.

“Not too good, Wils. Conor’s in a bad way, I’m
afraid.”  He gripped hold of my hand and sat down in the chair.  “He
stopped speaking, even to Eagan.  The doctor started him on
anti-depressants.  He says that we’re going to have to make some kind of
arrangements for his care.  There’s no way he can stay in his home alone
anymore…not unless he makes an amazing recovery, which I don’t see happening.”

“Who’s with him now?”

“Eagan.  He went home and packed an overnight
bag, then sent me on my way.  What’d your Mom say?” he asked slumping into
the chair and stretching out his legs.

“She wasn’t home when I called so I left a
message; haven’t heard any –” before I could finish my sentence the telephone
rang.  Dad jumped up and answered Mom’s call on the first ring and took it
in the other room. 

I heard most of their conversation; he wasn’t
trying to hide anything from me.  His voice cracked at times, then grew
silent.  I could picture Mom comforting him with her words, miles and
miles away.  He lay back on the bed and began speaking in a hushed
voice.  I decided to take a walk and get a soda to give him a few minutes
of privacy.

Stepping out into the hall, I became aware of an
almost electrical sensation in the air.  I stood motionless for a few
moments, trying to figure out what was causing the disruption.  My eyes
searched each end of the corridor.  I was unable to detect anything out of
the ordinary and decided my nerves were just on edge.

 I walked down the hallway to the elevator
and stepped into the small room which housed the soda machine.  Reaching
into my pocket, I fumbled around for some change and ended up pulling out the
lining of my pocket sending coins flying.  I bent down and picked up the
coins one by one, when, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something standing
near.  I quickly spun my head in that direction and saw an opaque black
mist changing transparency and shape as I watched.  It stood from the
floor to the ceiling and had movement sort of like the spinning of a tornado,
only in slow motion.  I held my position, head lowered, eyes transfixed on
the entity.

At first it seemed like it wasn’t aware of my
presence, but then the swirling motion stopped and a low humming sound,  like
the flapping of a thousand insect’s wings, came from the center of the mist then
lowered itself to the floor.

I was frozen with fear, unable to rationalize what
my eyes were seeing and my ears hearing.  Then a ribbon of black began to
form on the floor, like a ball of yarn being unwound.  It rose and fell
but never more than a few inches as it stretched itself out, growing longer,
the sound increasing in intensity. 

I felt my leg cramping up from the awkward
position I had frozen myself into and tried to stretch it out slowly without
distracting the being.  But it didn’t work.  The moment I began to
release the tension, the ribbon froze, then shot out straight at me without any
warning.  Instinctively I ducked and threw myself forward towards the
opposite wall.  I stood up and saw the ribbon swirling and enclosing the
area that I’d just been in.  It remained attached to the larger shape but
seemed to be operating of its own accord.  Almost like it was the brain
and the large shadow was some kind of anchor. 

Self-preservation kicked in and without a single
thought I found myself hurling over the black ribbon slithering on the
floor.  At that moment I was grateful for all that track and field practice.
Without even looking back I sprinted towards our room, key in hand, and quickly
inserted it into the slot.  Only when I heard the click did I look back
down the hall to see the mass reeling in the ribbon.  It was less than a
foot away and was changing from black to gray rings of smoke, giving the carpet
the appearance of being on fire.  It slithered back to the anchor mist,
which was also taking on a smoky appearance with traces of deep black piercing
through.  The sounds had stopped with the exception of the ring of the
elevator as it paused at our floor.  By the time the elevator door opened
and its occupants had unloaded themselves, all traces of the mist had disappeared.

I stood facing our closed door, resting my head
against it, trying to breathe slowly and evenly before I entered the
room.  What had I just seen?  Was it the same phantom being that had
jumped on the hood of the car?   It had to be the same…the same,
what?  I didn’t even know what to call it.

My mind flashed to Bram’s comment about timing and
a sense of urgency since this thing was obviously trying to get to me.  I
slowly turned the doorknob and entered the room. Composing myself became my
priority as I listened to Dad’s ongoing conversation with Mom. 

“The exhumation will be soon, so until then I
can‘t say…” Dad’s usually strong voice now sounded tired and weak. “Ok, honey,
I’ll call when I have more information…yeah, she’s right here.  Willow, Mom
wants a word with you.”

Hearing
Moms voice filled me with comfort and calm.  We chatted for only a few
minutes but it helped nonetheless.  After I hung up the phone I sat by Dad
on the bed.

“You doing ok, Wils?” he mumbled, staring at the
floor.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. We sat there without a
word for a long time, each of us wrestling with the bizarre series of events
that had come our way on this trip to Dad’s homeland.

My cell phone began vibrating in my pocket,
startling both of us.  I quickly opened it and read the message from
Kelleigh.  I’d totally forgotten that we were going to get
together.   Dad glanced over and saw the message and suggested I keep
my date with them and try to put my grandparents out of my mind, at least for a
while.  It sounded like a great idea; only thing was that my mind was in
overload, not just with everything regarding Grandma but with all the other
unfathomable happenings of the last week.  Putting any of it “out of my
mind” was close to impossible.  But I agreed, anxious to see Kelleigh and
Quinn again and hopefully find some answers to the multitude of questions that
were piling up.

When my second cousins showed up at the hotel,
they were curious about what had transpired since the last time I saw them. 
I shared everything I knew about Grandma and Grandpa, then mulled over just how
much I should confide in them. 

Kelleigh sped through town and jolted us into a
parking space at a coffee shop.  We found a quiet little table in the
corner where I hoped I could share some of the latest.  Just as I was
beginning to tell them about the car and the thing that jumped on the hood and
dented it, Quinn stood up, waving both arms.  I quickly spun around and
felt happy at the sight of Bram heading towards us, his eyes completely focused
on mine, a trace of a smile on his lips.   He reached his hands out
and held onto my shoulders, lowering his head to kiss my cheek.  I smiled
at the raised-eyebrow exchange between Quinn and Kelleigh.

“Well, well, we’re certainly very familiar now,
aren’t we?” Kelleigh winked.

I shrugged while watching Quinn interpret for
Bram.  Bram just grinned as he pulled out a chair and sat beside me.

The first few minutes of our reunion found us all
laughing and being entertained by Quinn as he shared stories of his day at
school.  The happiness was soon replaced by a quiet seriousness. 
Kelleigh was the first to put on a somber face.  She began to grill me on
the transformation.  Had there been any more dreams, had I felt different
in any way, were there any residual effects of the shifting?  I looked
over at Bram.

“I know that he knows what’s happening, Willow; he
called Quinn, he was concerned.”

I glared at Quinn. “Remind me to never tell
you
a secret. You told Bram after you promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone but
Kelleigh.” 

 “He asked about you, said he had a feeling
something was going on, and before I knew it, I spilled the beans.” Quinn
blushed and pursed his lips, “Sorry,” he said in a little-boy voice.  “But
I swear I didn’t tell anyone else.”

 I wondered how much they knew about Bram, if
they were aware of his ability to shift.  I decided they probably
weren’t.  It would have come up when Quinn first saw my transformation. 
Bram’s hand was squeezing my shoulder as he read Quinn, as if he was telling me
to keep his secret.  I’d planned on it.  The only way that bit of
information was coming out was if Bram himself decided to share it.

“I haven’t shifted anymore, but some other strange
things have happened,” I said, reaching for my steaming cup of tea.  I
poured a small amount of honey in it, raised it to my lips, and welcomed the
warmth moving down my throat.

“Oh?” Kelleigh replied.

I began my story with my first recollection of the
dark movement I’d seen at the hotel.  Then I explained that it showed up
several more times, once with Bram.  Kelleigh shot Bram an inquisitive
glare to which he replied, “It was a shadow, a dark form that moved quickly; we
weren’t able to focus on it.  I tried to catch up to it but lost it in the
woods near the castle.”

Kelleigh’s face pinched up in an expression of
deep thought. She began to speak but stopped herself, biting her lower lip,
nodding her head for me to continue.

“But the strangest thing that happened was at
Grandfather’s house.  I was alone in our rental car while Dad and Uncle
Eagan went inside to talk to Grandpa.” I relayed the whole story, emphasizing
the fierceness of whatever it was that’d been trying to get to me and that it
had made another appearance in the hotel hallway.  I watched Quinn’s and
Kelleigh’s expressions intensify as I replayed the happenings of the afternoon.
When I told them about finding the claw, Kelleigh quickly grabbed her phone and
began clicking away, searching the net.

She sat back looking at Bram, nudged Quinn and
said, “Ask him if his dad might recall ever finding anything like that.”

Quinn’s hands spoke while Bram shook his head.
“There are claws around here, especially near the park, you know that,
Kelleigh.”

“I know, but I’m wondering if he’s ever heard of
one that can be linked to the shadowy creature that’s been after Willow.”

He shook his head no again. “My da may be an
expert on local legend and folklore, but he’s also a realist.  There are
plenty of animals roaming about that may have lost that claw.”

Kelleigh frowned.  She wasn’t buying Bram’s
explanation.  “I don’t suppose you brought it here with you, did you,
Willow?”

Just then I realized that, no, I didn’t have it,
but also that I’d left it laying on the dresser in the hotel room.  A
quick jolt of panic shot through me with the realization that Dad might find
it.  Just as fast I relaxed, reminding myself that it really wasn’t that
unusual a claw unless you knew the circumstances behind how I got. Most
probably Dad wouldn’t even notice it; he had so much on his mind.

“No, I don’t have it.” I eased back into my seat.

Once the waitress delivered our food we again
returned to more cheerful topics.  After we were done Kelleigh suggested
we go back to Killarney Park.  Both Bram and Quinn were against the idea
but I felt excited and curious.  While Kelleigh urged her brother on I
quickly shot Bram a text and told him how much I wanted to go.  He said he
wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but if I wanted to, he felt he needed to be
there as well.  With that we split up, with Quinn and Kelleigh in one car;
I joined Bram in his.