Tirnan'Oge Read online

  “It would seem that ye have no concern about the future state of your mental health?” Feeorin remarked quietly.

  Roan laughed, a laugh that had lay dormant for years, like a festering stone in his gut. “To have these few moments of joy with you, I would risk having no brain at all.”

  “Be careful, Roan McNamara, what you wish for. You’ve just joined your spirit with a Sighoge.” She waved her hand and once again the gown formed to the gentle curves of her body.

  “Was it…the same for you? I mean, I’ve never—”

  “Ye shouldn’t fib, ‘tis not right.” She arched her silver brow.

  “Never like that. And you’re sure you’re okay?” He took her hands in his, already sensing that the love they shared was strong.

  “I am fine. ‘Twas quite pleasurable.” She glanced at the ground and smiled.

  There was no doubt he wanted her again, but the danger of making physical love was a danger to her immortality. He would have to be appeased with their spiritual joining.

  “That was more than pleasurable. It was…” Roan paced, searching the ground for the words to describe his joy. He stretched his arms over his head, reaching for the sunlight through the trees. “I can’t believe how much energy I have; I can’t believe how long I’ve waited for this. When will I see you again?” He turned to speak directly to Feeorin and instead found William staring at him. The puzzled look on William’s face spoke volumes.

  “It’s only been a few moments since you left our picnic. I decided to come see if you’d gotten lost out here. The girls are waiting and, frankly, I can’t see why you would pass up an opportunity like Clarissa.”

  “I took a swim.” Roan hoped the girls wouldn’t be following too soon.

  “A swim?” William glanced placidly around the area. “So, why are you up here—and your clothes were down there?” He tossed Roan’s clothes to him.

  Roan wasn’t sure he knew how to answer that either. Feeorin must be playing tricks on him. “I thought I might find my watch.” He caught his jeans and the rest fell to the ground.

  William scanned Roan from head to toe. “You went searching for your watch in your all-together? Besides, that was over twelve years ago. Now you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “You won’t believe me.” Roan focused on getting his clothes on, certain he didn’t want William or his friends to make a mockery of him.

  “Try me.”

  Roan shrugged. “I kissed her.” He slid one leg into his jeans and then the other. What did it matter anyway if William believed or not? Roan knew what he’d experienced. His body still tingled from the breathtaking climax.

  “Kissed who, and pardon me for noticing, but since when does a simple kiss require disrobing to your birthday suit?” He gave Roan a wicked grin.

  Roan stood straight, lifting his gaze to William in frustration as he zipped his pants. “Her. And you know what’s more? I don’t care. It’s the most, oh God—” Roan tapped his fingers to his chest, motioning to his heart for emphasis. “It’s the most I’ve felt in years.” He grinned as he tugged his shirt over his head. A residual energy coursed through Roan, making him want to expend it somewhere. Instead, he rambled on to his silent friend. “It was the most incredible experience. Well worth the risk, I have to tell you. It’s unbelievable. You can’t fathom how–empowered I feel!”

  “I’m pretty sure Clarissa would be happy to help you with your excess energy problem.”

  Roan threw his friend a disgusted look. “It wasn’t like that. It was…indescribable.”

  William glanced around nonchalant. “That’s terrific, Superman but who is this fabulous woman and when do I get to meet her?” He plucked a long piece of grass from the ground and slipped it between his lips, chewing idly as he waited for an answer.

  Surely William could see Feeorin; she was standing in plain view, right behind—

  Roan turned on his heel and only his da’s watch lay on the grassy knoll.

  “She was here.”

  William’s gaze narrowed. “You don’t mean that faery malarkey of yours?”

  He shrugged, glancing with a worried look at William.

  “If you say so, my friend,” William responded, but gave Roan a look of concern. “You’re sure that you maybe just didn’t fall asleep or something? Not that I’m saying there wasn’t someone here.” William kept his gaze on Roan. “Though I must admit, you do appear quite exuberant.”

  Roan fell to his knees barely registering William’s words. Bloody hell, he’d lost her again. Plucking up the watch, he held it in his palm hoping that by some miracle she might return. His heart burned from her spirit inside of him. The thought he might never see her again was almost more than he could bear.

  “Don’t worry, old man. There’s plenty more like her out there.”

  Roan lifted his tortured gaze to William knowing he couldn’t fathom what he was feeling. William lived in a world of carnal appeasement. Matters of the heart were not a part of his vocabulary. “There’s only one Feeorin.” What sort of magic would tempt a man through the years, allowing him to taste the purest of pleasures and then leave him to live in a world where nothing of any sort compared?

  There was the distinct possibility he would go mad.

  Chapter Three

  1967~

  Roan had approached that time in a man’s life when—had he chosen another path—he might be in the throes of raising a teenage son or daughter. He’d caution them, as his parents had, not to become tainted by the world. That despite the cynicism, there was still enough room for magic and legends. He knew this much to be true by his brief but potent first-hand encounters.

  Roan carefully placed a pitcher of milk and a small crumb cake on the freshly swept flagstone path at his back door. It had become a nightly ritual. By way of local gossip, word spread quickly that Roan McNamara was a “little off in the head”.

  In ten years, William had not mentioned the incident at the pond. For some reason, he chose to bring it up that evening as he stopped in for an unplanned visit. Roan watched him as he sauntered through the house, leafing through his library of books, noting with casual interest Roan’s manuscripts littered on his writing desk. He meandered back to the kitchen as Roan was taking the coffeepot from the stove

  “So, it would appear then that you still believe in this malarkey of faeries, eh?” William gave him a grin.

  Roan lifted his gaze to his friend. “And why would you think that would have changed?”

  “Roan, it’s been over ten years. Don’t you think it’s time to move out of the realm of this fantasy you have going? My God man, there’s a whole world of beautiful women out there, and one of them is dying to be Mrs. McNamara.” William pulled out a worn leather black book from his back pocket. “Look, I have a friend—”

  Roan held up his hand. “It won’t matter, Billy.” After all he’d shared with him over the years, even the part of meeting Feeorin when he was twelve, after all of that, William still couldn’t admit Roan had seen, and in fact, kissed a Sighoge faery.

  “What won’t matter? Roan, really man, people are starting to talk. It’s bad enough that you barely show yourself in public, living up here like some love-struck hermit, baking crumb cakes for God’s sake.” He waved at the sweet morsel cooling on the table. “You can’t go on living like this. I’m here to tell you, it’s just not healthy.”

  “And I suppose I should be leading a healthier lifestyle, more like yours maybe?” Roan didn’t hide that his friend’s remark had scathed him. He tossed a kitchen towel across the counter in his frustration. “May I remind you that you were the one who dared me to kiss a Sighoge faery, remember? God knows I don’t fault you for that; on the contrary, I should thank you. Because of you, I met Feeorin.”

  “Good God Roan, will you listen to yourself? Pining for something that was, in all probability, a figment of your imagination? Have you thought of getting some help? Talk to a psychiatrist? Maybe this has to do with
losing your parents the way you did. It seems like you had to grow up a lot sooner than the rest of us.”

  “So it would seem.” Roan’s point hit its mark.

  William rubbed his fingers over his eyes and sighed. He stared quietly at Roan.

  Roan waited for an apology but none came. He’d at least hoped that William would simply take him at his word.

  “Okay, maybe you did experience something unexplainable, but whatever it was, a normal person would have moved on long ago.” William pinched off an ample chunk of the warm cake. “Besides, what’s wrong with the way I live? At least I’m out there living, not holed up leaving cake and milk at my back door, all because of a little nookie with some woman.”

  Roan tempered his anger with the fact that William was oblivious to the faery world. He couldn’t very well argue with ignorance. “I’ll forget you said that, and for your information, it wasn’t nookie.” Roan picked up his coffee mug and blew softly across its surface. He sensed that his experience would likely never be fully understood by outsiders, even his best friend. However, he had a purpose greater than simply proving his own experience to an unbelieving friend. His was to keep alive the stories of the faery folk. Not just one or two, but all of them, so that generations to come would have the option to believe as well. More importantly, Roan knew something William didn’t—if the old stories were forgotten then the fae world itself, and all of its magic, would cease to exist.

  William shook his head and stared at the mug between his hands. He glanced up at Roan, his gaze narrowed. “Okay, let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that there is a faery kingdom, or village, or—wherever the hell they live.”

  “A palace, I suspect,” Roan interjected quietly, his gaze flickered briefly to his friend.

  Skepticism was etched plainly on William’s face. “I don’t suppose she took you there, did she?”

  Roan caught William’s gaze. His brow furrowed. “It’s complicated.”

  “Try me,” William urged.

  “If I left this world to live in hers, who would there be to carry on the stories? Who would make sure they aren’t lost in time? The stories you and I heard when we were kids, William, they just aren’t passed on like they used to be. The new technology has made storytelling obsolete. Kids would rather go to an arcade, parents don’t have the time anymore to sit around after dinner and tell the stories they used to tell us.”

  “I hate to break it to you, mate, but my Da, after coming in from the fields and eating a bite, would go into town to the pub and stagger home in the wee hours of the morning. My mom helped him into bed for a couple of hours and he’d wake up and do the whole thing over again. The only time I ever saw my Da was on Sunday morning and that was at my Ma’s insistence. And she was so busy doing other people’s laundry that for a long time, I thought dark circles under a woman’s eyes were a normal thing. Sorry, old man, not a hell of a lot of faerytales going on at my house.”

  “I’m sorry, Billy. I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

  “Yeah, well that’s why I never invited you to into my house and we hung out at the pond a great deal, eh?” His friend shrugged. “You’ve always been a good friend to me Roan, you and your family. I appreciate that and that’s part of why I’m here. I’m concerned that you need to move on with your life.”

  “Maybe you’ll buy my books one of these days, then?” Roan smiled before he sipped his coffee.

  William chuckled. “Yeah. Hey listen, this little fae witch of yours, did she…you know, put some kind of hex or spell on you or something?” His eyes widened in horror. “Did she do anything to you? I mean like, physically alter anything?”

  “Sever any vital parts?” Roan asked in mild amusement. It was his turn to shake his head in disbelief. “I’m perfectly intact, thank you for your concern. If it was a spell, it wasn’t hers, but by my own choosing. And if choosing never to give myself to another after her is the world’s definition of “mad,” then I surely am. I happily admit to that.”

  His friend frowned openly. “But to never marry—never even want to date another woman? Isn’t this a little extreme to live like this?” William walked up next to Roan and set his cup in the sink. He rested his hands on the counter as he stared out the window.

  A few moments ticked by as Roan stared at cake crumbs on the floor. There was no logic to explain magic and hence no way to help William understand.

  “I just worry that you’re letting life pass you by, you know? We’ve been friends a long time.”

  William looked at Roan, studying his face as though he might find the answers to his questions. The problem was that the answers were deeper than William was able see.

  Roan shrugged. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s like I can never love anyone as much as I do Feeorin.” The wistful tone in his own voice made Roan wonder briefly about his sanity. For the first time, he saw the man that William saw: alone, pining away for an ideal, something that may or may not truly exist except in the core of his soul.

  His friend continued to stare at him. “Okay, okay.” He nodded his head as if accepting Roan’s choices. “I came here to invite you to Monte Carlo for a little rest and relaxation. We could catch a little of the great race, go to a few parties, which by the way are loaded with gorgeous women. Lie in the sun and catch up on old times. What do you say old man? It’s time for you to take a breather from this existence and enjoy your youth while you still have it. Hey, mate, an offer like this doesn’t come along every day.”

  Roan had no need to think long on the offer. “Not this time, Billy, but you go ahead and have a great time. Tell me all about it when you get back.”

  His friend studied him long and hard. “Are you absolutely sure?”

  Roan nodded. “It’s just not a good time for me right now.”

  “Well, I intend to have the time of my life, you know me.” William gave Roan’s shoulder a friendly slap. His hand rested there for a brief moment.

  “Promise that we’ll get together when you get back?” Roan asked.

  “Sure, that’s a promise, mate.”

  Roan held William’s gaze. “What is it?” He could see the question in his friend’s eyes.

  William shrugged and gave him a weak smile. “I guess maybe I’m a little envious of you, old man.”

  “Of me?” Roan spat out a portion of his coffee, not hiding his complete surprise.

  William studied Roan’s face. “Something happened all right. And whatever it was changed you.”

  He’d never seen his friend so intense before. It was a little unnerving. Roan cleared his throat. “Well if you run across any old legends in your travels, be sure to bring them back for my book, ok?”

  William laughed openly. “Some of those are pretty far-fetched from what I hear.” His face grew serious, but his smile held true. “I’ll keep my ear out.”

  “Thanks.” Roan covered his friend’s hand.

  William nodded. “Well, you have a mission and I have an appointment.” He glanced at his watch. “I have a lot to do before I leave. I’m supposed to meet with my lawyer about settling the sale of the farm. I don’t use it much anymore, too much time on the road. Still, I’m going to kind of miss the old place, especially the pond. A lot of good memories there, right?”

  It was one of the few things they’d agreed on. Roan nodded. He reached out for some unknown reason and gave William a great bear hug.

  William pulled away in haste, visibly embarrassed by the overt gesture. “You take care. I’ll see you in a couple of months. By then, you ought to have a pretty good start on that book, right? Maybe if I read it, you can convince me of the existence of your faery friend.”

  He paused at the door and looked over his shoulder at Roan. Roan felt a shiver run down his spine. He shook off the unpleasant feeling and raised his coffee mug to his childhood friend. “May the wind be at your back.”

  “And yours as well.” He remarked with a tip of his fingers in salute.

  ***


  Just as he promised, William came back home.

  Three weeks after their discussion in the kitchen, Roan sat in public for the first time in many months—for the funeral mass of William Neill.

  He ignored, as best as he could, the blatant stares of those around him. The little stone church was packed with those who’d known William, many female, sobbing and comforting one another in their grief.

  Roan sat at the back, his clothes common and his beard shaggy and unkempt. He’d been heavy into writing his book when news of William’s unfortunate car accident came to him by way of a telegram. Meghan, one of the young women from that fateful afternoon picnic, had sent it to Roan. She was seated in the front pew, her head bent, dabbing a hankie to her eyes.

  William’s burial took place in the tiny cemetery on the rise near the countryside chapel—the same one where, as young boys, they’d slipped ants into the holy water as a joke. Their penance, when caught, was time spent on their knees in front of the statute of the Blessed Virgin asking for forgiveness for desecrating the Holy Water. Of course, that was nothing compared to the punishment from their parents. Roan’s backside was sore for a week from the lash of a willow branch.

  ***

  “Do you believe, William?” Roan’s scuffed knees pressed into the hard oak of the chapel kneeler.

  “Believe in what? God, you mean? I’ve never seen him.” William reached out, lifting the length of cloth that covered the sacred altar.

  “Put that down or the priest will have us here for another hour,” Roan smacked his friend’s hand.

  A moment of silence ticked by. Roan glanced over at his only friend. He’d met William at school, quite by accident, when William had saved him from being beat up by the school bully. Since then, he and Roan had done everything together. “What do you believe, Billy?”

  “It’s William.” He glanced at Roan with a frown. “I believe in what I can see and feel. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “But what about faith, then? Where does that leave that?” Roan asked his youthful mind curious that his friend had no more regard for spiritual matters than that.