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Authors: Kate Thompson

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BOOK: Wild Blood
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‘Is that what you call us?’ said Declan. ‘Switchers?’ Tess nodded, still trying to absorb the unlikely information.

‘It isn’t the word I would have used,’ said Declan, ‘but I suppose it doesn’t matter. He was the first of us to discover it, and for a long time I was afraid, and wouldn’t join him when he came out here to play with the Good People.’

‘The Good People,’ said Tess. ‘You mentioned them before, Orla, didn’t you?’

‘Fairies,’ said Orla. ‘It’s what people called them in the old days.’

‘That’s right,’ said Declan. ‘And back then there were still people who believed in their existence. In our existence, I should say. My mother was one of the last of them, I suppose. No one believes in us now.’

‘Of course they don’t,’ said Tess. ‘I mean, fairies! How could anyone believe in them?’

Declan plumped up a few more cushions and stretched himself out comfortably, propping his chin on his elbow. ‘I think,’ he said, ‘that we’ll have to start at the beginning. In ancient times. Do you want to explain it, Orla?’

Orla nodded and took up the story. ‘I’m sure that there’s nothing you don’t know already,’ she said. ‘But maybe you forgot. Everyone does.’

‘I didn’t,’ said Kevin.

Tess kicked him playfully. ‘Smarty-pants,’ she said. ‘You didn’t even go to school!’

‘That’s why I remember it,’ said Kevin. ‘I read it because I wanted to and not because I had to.’

‘All right, all right,’ said Tess. ‘Go on, Orla, will you?’

She did. ‘Do you remember all that legendary stuff about the
Fir Bolgs
who were the first inhabitants of Ireland, and then the
Tuatha de Danaan
came along, Danu’s people, from across the seas, from
Tir na nÓg
?’

‘The Land of Eternal Youth,’ said Tess.

‘That’s right. There are lots of stories about those people,’ Orla went on. ‘The books are full of them. They were a race of magicians and they could change their shape and work magic spells.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Tess. ‘Like the Children of Lir.’

‘But do you remember what happened to them? To Danu’s people?’

‘I do,’ said Kevin. ‘There was a great battle when the Milesians came to Ireland. The Tuatha lost. They were allowed to stay in Ireland on one condition.’

Tess’s skin crawled. ‘I remember that bit,’ she said. ‘The condition was that they stay below the ground.’

There was a pause as she allowed the new implications of the old story to sink home.

‘So they did,’ said Declan. ‘Most of the time, at least. But sometimes at night they came out and danced in the ruins of their old homes, and the rings came to be known as fairy forts.’

‘And sometimes people caught glimpses of them by day as well,’ said Orla. ‘In wild places, like this one, where people rarely come.’

‘The country people saw them often enough to know that they still existed,’ said Declan. ‘Even the Church failed to wipe out belief in them, though the priests tried hard enough. But a strange thing happened over the generations.’

‘What happened?’ asked Tess.

‘We diminished in size,’ said Declan.

‘How?’

Declan readjusted himself again. ‘It wasn’t exactly that we got smaller,’ he said. ‘It was that people believed that we did. It’s a feature of fairy glamour that we exist as people perceive us to exist. So if people expected to see “Big People”, then that’s what they saw. And as we became known as “Little People”, then people saw us as little.’

‘Anything to oblige,’ said Kevin.

‘Maybe,’ said Declan. ‘But in any event, as people’s belief in us diminished, so did we.’

‘But why do you keep saying “we”?’ asked Tess.

‘Because all of us here have
Danaan
blood in our veins. That’s why we have the powers that we have.’ He glanced at Kevin. ‘Or had, as the case may be. For myself, I chose to keep them.’

‘You were going to explain that,’ said Tess. ‘This is where we started from.’

‘I’m getting there,’ said Declan. ‘When our fifteenth birthday came around, I decided to stay as I was. One of the
Tuatha de Danaan.

‘A fairy,’ said Kevin.

‘If you like,’ said Declan.

‘And. Daddy didn’t,’ said Orla.

‘He promised he would,’ said Declan, and a tone of bitterness entered his voice. ‘But when it came to it he lost his nerve. He didn’t believe strongly enough.’

It was like getting to the end of a jigsaw. Everything was coming together, now.

‘That’s why he kept visiting the woods after you disappeared,’ said Tess. ‘Of course everyone thought he was mad. He couldn’t tell anyone the truth.’

‘And that’s why he wants to sell the land,’ said Brian, who had run out of patience with the
Star Wars
game and come over to join them. ‘And why he’s so angry all the time. It still hurts him to know that Declan is here.’

Declan nodded. ‘He feels that I abandoned him,’ he said. ‘But it was him who chickened out.’

There was a great depth of sadness in his tone as he spoke, and Tess realised that the same sense of loss was in Uncle Maurice as well, beneath the anger that arose so readily. She remembered hearing about twins; about how close they could be, and she was aware that there was something unresolved in the story.

‘And now you’re getting your own back, is that it?’ she asked.

Declan’s face revealed the bitterness he felt. ‘He wants to sell the land, don’t you understand? He wants to destroy my home; the only thing I have.’

‘And what would happen if he did?’ asked Kevin. ‘Where would you go?’

‘Where the rest of us go who have been displaced by what you call “development”,’ said Declan. ‘Away from your world forever. Back to
Tir na nÓg.

At last Tess felt that she understood. Uncle Maurice, perpetually tormented by loss and guilt, intended to get rid of the problem once and for all, in the only way he could.

‘He thought he could be free of me,’ said Declan. ‘But I have outwitted him.’ He turned to Kevin and laughed, a sound made sinister by the words that followed. ‘It was your pied piper antics that gave me the idea,’ he said. ‘He’ll never, ever sell the place now.’

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

W
HILE THEY WERE TALKING,
Colm had resumed his efforts to get out of the crawl-hole. Each time he failed he retreated and tried a different shape: a beetle, a snake, a mouse. But as soon as he got anywhere near the entrance he turned back into the porker and got stymied again.

While she watched him, Tess reflected on what she had learnt. It seemed that Lizzie was right yet again, and that it was ancestors and not ghosts that haunted the woods and wild places of the land. It made sense, too. There were plenty of stories about affairs and marriages between members of the fairy host and humans. Why shouldn’t a bit of the old, wild blood have survived to enable children to use the ancient, magical power?

Colm retreated once again, and the puzzled expression on his face would have made Tess laugh if the situation hadn’t been so serious.

‘You can’t do this,’ she said. ‘You can’t hold the children here for ever.’

‘Who says I can’t?’ said Declan. ‘Besides, I don’t have to. As soon as they get hungry enough they’ll join me at my table. Then they will belong to this world, and they’ll never return to that other one, out there.’

‘But that’s not right, Declan,’ said Kevin. ‘You know it’s not right. People have always been tempted by the fairy world, but there was never anything in the stories about coercion. You can’t force anyone to stay here if they don’t want to.’

‘Why not?’ said Declan. ‘This is my
sidhe.
In here I am the king. I can do as I please.’

Tess feared that he was right, and that none of them would ever know freedom again. But she couldn’t give up.

‘Why should you keep us here, though?’ she said. ‘Why should you want to? Your brother is out there now. He’s sure to agree to any kind of deal you want, if you offer him his children in return.’

‘I made a deal with him before,’ said Declan, bitterly. ‘He broke his word then and I don’t have any reason to believe that he won’t do it again. Why should I trust him?’

‘Because that’s what all this is about, really,’ said Kevin. ‘I’ve just realised it. This isn’t the first battle of the war, is it? It’s the last one. This feud has been going on between you two since you were both fifteen.’

Declan looked away and Tess knew that Kevin was right.

‘He has always denied my existence,’ said Declan. ‘Even though he knows the truth he refuses to believe it.’

‘Then talk to him,’ said Tess. ‘You have to give him a chance to negotiate.’

‘Why?’

‘Because …’ The answer wouldn’t come to Tess. She dried up. But Kevin surprised her.

‘Because he’s your brother,’ he said. ‘He’s your brother and for twenty years you have lived without him, and missed him. And because he misses you every bit as much. That’s why he wants to sell the land, to forget about you, not to have you haunting him every day of his life.’

‘Haunting him?’ said Declan. ‘What do you mean, “haunting him”?’

‘I’ve seen you,’ said Tess. ‘We all have. Sitting at his windows in the shape of a cat, flying over as a raven.’

‘How else do you pester him, Declan?’ asked Kevin. ‘As a wild goat, perhaps? As a hare?’

Declan opened his mouth to speak, but what came out was more like a howl.

‘He betrayed me! My whole world. He left me here alone and took over the farm. He might as well have murdered me!’

‘No!’ Orla had been listening quietly, but she couldn’t contain herself any longer. ‘Daddy wouldn’t do that. He loves you, Uncle Declan, he told us that. It’s why he gets so angry all the time. He’s only half alive without you!’

And for all his power, for all his wealth beneath the hill, it was suddenly clear that Declan felt the same.

Tess agreed to go with Declan to be an observer in his talks with Maurice while Kevin and the others stayed behind in the
sidhe.
Declan went ahead and dived into the low tunnel as a hare. Tess followed. But as soon as they emerged into the second hallway, Declan stopped. He was staring at the exit which, Tess could see, was wide open. On the other side of it, Uncle Maurice was standing in the moonlight, head in hands.

Tess froze, but Declan Switched back into his boylike form. After a moment, Tess joined him.

‘It’s hard to believe that he can’t see us,’ she whispered.

‘Could you see into the rock, from out there?’ said Declan.

‘No. But I can see out, now.’

‘It’s different from this side. It doesn’t matter what we do; he can’t see in.’

To demonstrate his point, Declan skipped along the hall and did an energetic jig just feet from where his brother was standing. Tess watched, breathlessly. Declan was a strong and graceful dancer, as skilled as anyone she had seen in any of the Irish dancing shows that had recently become so popular. He grinned at her and winked, then turned and made insulting gestures at his brother.

But Uncle Maurice might as well have been blind for all the notice he took.

‘Why?’ asked Tess. ‘Why can’t he see or hear us?’

‘Glamour,’ said Declan. ‘There aren’t so many
sidhes
like this left now, but once they were all over Ireland. We hid them; not with any actual thing, but with illusion. The door exists only in his mind, as it existed in yours before you succeeded in breaching it.’

‘But if he was a Switcher himself, why doesn’t he know that?’

‘Because he doesn’t believe any more. He has denied the past as well as the present.’

As Tess watched, Uncle Maurice struck at the invisible barrier, first with one fist and then the other. From her perspective, it looked as though he was hitting unbreakable glass.

‘Are all the doors the same?’ she asked.

‘They work on the same principle, yes. But some are grassy hill-sides and some are in the ground. Wherever they are, they work in the same way; by deceiving the mind of the onlooker.’

At that moment, Uncle Maurice sighed loudly and turned away from the door. Without pausing for an instant, Declan transformed himself into a barn owl and, with a shrill shriek of alarm, went bursting out of the opening.

More quietly, Tess followed. As she swept up through the trees and joined Declan circling above them, she could see her uncle on the ground below, shaking his fist after them. She was glad that he couldn’t see little Colm’s predicament inside the hill. Angry as he was now, that would have made him mad with fury.

Still in owl-form, Declan circled above the trees and Tess followed while Uncle Maurice watched on helplessly. Not until he got tired of craning his neck and sat down despondently on a mossy rock, did Declan alight. For a while he sat in a tree, looking down, while Tess waited on a nearby branch. Then, as though he had finally plucked up courage, he dropped on to the ground below and Switched. Choosing her spot carefully, Tess glided down from the trees and Switched behind a broad trunk, from where she could look on unseen by either of the others.

In the moonlit clearing, Declan’s clothes had a quite different appearance. Without colour their sheen was silvery-grey, so similar to the surrounding light that it was not easy to see him at all. Except that, when he moved in a certain way, a gleam of bluish light would suddenly shine out for an instant, then vanish again, reminding Tess of the mysterious flickerings that she had seen from her bedroom window.

It was some time before Uncle Maurice became aware of his brother’s presence. When he did, his jaw dropped. Seeing them together, Tess realised why it was that Declan had seemed familiar to her when she had first set eyes upon him. The family resemblance was quite remarkable; the two boys must have been stunningly similar when they were the same age.

When they were the same age. How could they have once been the same age and be the same age no longer? Tess was trying to get her mind around the paradox when Uncle Maurice spoke.

‘It really was you, then, all along?’ he said. ‘The raven and the cat and the brown hare. I was never sure.’

‘It was me,’ said Declan.

‘Sometimes I thought there was nothing there at all,’ said Maurice. ‘Nothing except a figment of my imagination.’

BOOK: Wild Blood
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