Faelorehn (17 page)

I spent my mornings and sometimes my evenings reading everything I could find on the Celts, and especially the Otherworld.  One site informed me that the people of Ireland considered caves, hills, and lakes to be portals to the Otherworld.  That got me thinking about the dolmarehn Cade had told me about.  I scrolled through another few sites, all of them telling me the same things over and over again.  I already knew the Celts were a tribal culture, that the druids acted as their priests and performed the pagan rituals; that they believed the barrier between our world and the Otherworld was more permeable on Samhain.  I had already read all of this before.  What I wanted to know was what was it like in the Otherworld?  What sort of abilities did the Faelorehn possess?  And most importantly, why did it seem like the faelah were after me and what could I do to defend myself?

Cursing silently, I closed the page I was on and crossed my arms in a huff.  Research was leading me around in circles.  I wasn’t going to learn anything new or relevant.  What I needed was a nice long conversation with Cade.  Where was he?  What was taking him so long to get back to me?  My frustration was growing worse by the day, and soon I was going to go crazy locked up inside the house, afraid to leave in case the faelah were waiting just outside the door.

The next morning, I woke up early and padded over to my sliding glass door.  This had become a habit of mine, and every morning I hoped to see some sign of Cade’s return.  The oak tree was just visible over the edge of our yard and as I traced the outline of its trunk in the gray light of pre-dawn, a shape stepped out from behind it.  I nearly jumped through the glass in my surprise. 
Fergus!

I threw on a sweatshirt, unlocked my door, and slid it open without a second thought of ravens or faelah waiting for me in the shadows.  I slipped on some sandals and hurried down the slope that led to the tree.

Fergus released a small bark and pressed his front paws against the trunk of the oak tree.  I felt like hugging him, but my eagerness at finding a note from Cade outweighed my joy at seeing his dog.  His
spirit guide
.

I hurried over and pulled the parchment out of the knothole.  With nervous fingers, I unrolled it.

Meghan,

Now that you’ve had adequate time to allow the truth of who and what you are to sink in, I feel you are ready to meet with me again.  Please join me in the clearing tomorrow morning if you are able.

Sincerely,

C.M.

I read it again, twice, and then clutched the note to my chest.  Fergus released a small whine and I looked down at him, blushing like an idiot.  He eyed me curiously, that strange intelligence of his sparkling in those brown eyes.  Could he somehow relate my behavior back to Cade?  I hoped not.  I folded the note and stuck it in my back pocket, whistling all the way back to my house.

* * *

There was a light rain the next morning, but I wasn’t going to let the gloomy weather keep me from my plans.  Finally I was going to see Cade and I finally should get some more answers.  After grabbing a quick breakfast and fending off my attention-seeking brothers, I told my parents I was going for a walk and headed out the door.

“Where are you going in this weather?” my dad asked.

I froze.  “Um, just going down into the swamp.”

Mom furrowed her brow and looked up at me over her magazine.  “The swamp?  Since when have you enjoyed going down there?”

I cringed.  I never showed any true interest in it before, so her question was a legitimate one.  “Since I spotted some neat trails on my way home from school once,” I responded, cringing at my fabricated reasoning.

Both my parents looked at me as if I had gone crazy.  Well,
crazier
.

“Hiking trails?” they both said together.

“Yeah,” I waved my hand around, the sleeve of my lime-green rain jacket flapping against my wrist, “it’s really nice down there.  You should check it out sometime.”

My parents looked slightly baffled, but they both shrugged it off and got back to reading their magazines.

“Okay, well have fun honey and be careful,” Mom finally said.

Hardly believing I made it out of that one with my intelligence intact, I scurried through the front door and walked down to the road.  I squeezed past the
Dead End
sign and began my descent into the swamp.  I made sure I could feel the can of pepper spray in my pocket and kept my senses alert.  Halfway to my destination it started raining again.  Most of the moisture was caught and stopped by the eucalyptus trees above, but by the time I had the clearing in my sights, rain drops speckled my raincoat like chicken pox.

Cade was waiting for me, Fergus standing loyally beside him.  My heart skipped a beat and I had to squash my sudden nervousness.  What was wrong with me?

Cade had on the black trench coat I remembered from before, hood flipped up.  He had what looked like two walking sticks in one hand and a couple of long pouches in the other.  As I moved closer, I noticed that the pouches had feathery branches sticking out of them.  No, not branches: arrows.  I eyed the staves he was holding.  A long string looped around the top of each of them and trailed loosely to the ground.  Oh.  Bows.  I thought bows were supposed to be curved . . .

I’m sure the look I gave him held puzzlement, because he smiled.  He had smiled at me before, that time at the beach when he told me what I was and a few times before that, but I had never noticed the small dimple before.  Suddenly, my legs felt slightly weak and I forgot all about my irritation at his long absence or all those questions I was going to ask.

I cleared my throat and pointed at the bows, taking my eyes away from his.  “Um, shouldn’t those be curved?”

Cade laughed lightly and it didn’t do anything to help my posture.  Cursed, weak legs . . .

“They will be,” was all he said.

He set the quivers and the smaller bow aside and abruptly placed the stringed end of the bow against one foot, passing it behind his other leg.  Then, using his right leg for support, he bent the bow and slipped the other loop into place.  When he stepped out of the bow, it looked the way it should.

“The wood is what gives it its flex.”

He demonstrated by pulling the string back but not releasing it.  “The strongest yew wood available.”

It was rather impressive, I had to admit.

“So,” I said, clearing my throat, “you called me down here to play Robin Hood?  Because I actually had a few questions for you, well, more than a few, but what I need to know most is why am I being stalked by a raven that wants to kill me?”

The light in Cade’s eyes faded and his jaw tightened.  He nodded infinitesimally and sighed.  “I know about the raven and what happened on the bridge,” he said, “that’s why I’ve brought the bows.  We’re starting your training right away.”

Training?  But I was more curious about how he knew about the raven, so I asked him.

Cade merely shot a quick glance at Fergus.  Ah, so maybe he could communicate telepathically with his dog.  But how had Fergus known?  Had he been following me too?  I decided that at this point, it was probably best just to believe anything was possible.

Cade leaned his own bow up against a tree and reached for the smaller one, apparently done with the Q and A portion of our conversation.  “It is much more convenient to fight any faelah creatures when you can pick them off from a distance.”

He handed the bow out to me, smiling again as he did so.  He really needed to stop doing that.  I figured I was going to have a hard enough time stringing the bow.  It wouldn’t help if my legs were perpetually turning into jelly.

Cade showed me how to string and unstring the bow and although it was a struggle, I managed on my own after awhile.  He had to step in close to me for the first several times and although his closeness made my heart beat in my throat, I won’t say I didn’t enjoy it.

After our bows were strung, Cade pulled out two pairs of special gloves he told me should always be worn when practicing archery.  Mine were much smaller than his, but they fit me perfectly.

“Now, the arrows that we’ll be using are practice ones.  I’ll bring you some rowan wood arrows next time.”

“Rowan wood?”

Cade nodded as he nocked one of his arrows.  “Rowan helps ward against evil.”

I nodded.  I guess I hadn’t done enough research after all.

Silence followed Cade’s explanation as he focused and drew his bowstring far enough back that the feathers of the arrow brushed his cheek.  He must have come early because about a hundred yards away I noticed an old piece of cloth pinned against a grassy berm, its center painted with a red and white target.

I waited patiently as Cade breathed deeply, focusing on his task.  Fergus panted beside us and the light rain had become an annoying drizzle.  Finally, Cade released the arrow and the bowstring splattered moisture on both of us.  The arrow flew straight, whooshing through the air and lodging deeply into the center of the target.

I felt my jaw drop. 
That
was impressive.  I looked at Cade, my eyes wide, but he merely gazed at the distant target, his face looking slightly grim as he nodded once and reached for another arrow.

“You will not always have that much time to focus on your target, so it is important that you learn to shoot quickly.”

I gaped at him.  That was it?  No smile or grunt of approval?  If he had been any of the jocks at my high school he would be crowing as loudly as he could, trying to draw the attention of every female within a mile radius to come see his impressive feat of masculinity.  But Cade wasn’t like those guys at school.  No, he wasn’t like them at all . . .

“Meghan?”

I snapped out of my daydream.  “Huh?”

“Are you ready to try?”

“Uh, yeah.” I bit my lip and gripped my bow. 
Time to focus Meghan.  You don’t want to end up shooting your new friend or yourself in the foot.

Cade handed me an arrow, then shocked me by stepping behind me and putting his left hand on my forearm and his other hand over the one I was using to grip the bowstring.  I swallowed and forced myself to breathe through my nose.  He could easily rest his chin on the top of my head if he wished, and I almost thought he was going to.

“Now,” he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear him.

He was so close I could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest; the heat coming off his body.  I gulped down my nervousness.

“Nock the arrow first and use your left hand, the one gripping the bow, as a rest for the arrow.  Your glove will protect your hand.  Hook your first three fingers over the string, keeping the nock of the arrow between your index and middle finger.”

Carefully, he used his own hands to guide mine.  His touch was gentle, but reassuring, and it took every fiber of muscle in my legs to keep my knees from buckling.

He tightened his right hand over mine.

“Now, draw the string back as far as you can.  For now, don’t draw it all the way to your cheek.”

Cade pulled the string back with me, only bringing it to a point just in front of my nose.  As I waited for his next instruction, I took advantage of his close proximity.  Although he didn’t quite touch me, I could feel his presence mere inches away from my back.  The pleasant earthy scent that always accompanied him filled my senses and the rhythm of his calm breathing almost kept pace with my heartbeat.  Unfortunately, my heart was trying to run a marathon right then.

“Keep your arms steady and keep a hold of the arrow.”

Slowly, he released my arm and hand, backing away to leave me standing on my own.  A pang of disappointment and longing followed after him, but I stubbornly reminded myself that he was trying to teach me archery in order to defend myself against the creepy crawlies of the Otherworld.  An image of the little gnomes that had chased me a handful of months ago and the memory of my near-death experience on the swinging bridge, forced my focus back onto the task at hand.

“When I say so, release the bowstring.”

Cade gave me the signal and I let loose the string.  It slapped against the leather of my other glove and the arrow went sailing, though not nearly as far as his own.

I slumped my shoulders in disappointment.  How pathetic I must look to him.

“Good!” Cade called from behind me.

I turned around and looked at him, my eyebrows raised.  “Really?”

He smiled again, curse him.  “Your arrow flew forward, didn’t it?”

For a while I felt that tingle of self-consciousness again, but when I gave him a closer look, I realized he was teasing me.

I gasped in mock outrage and crossed my arms.  He only laughed.

“We’ll just stick to archery today.  Later, we’ll get into hand to hand combat.  If you can take your enemy out with an arrow, that would be best.  Some of the creatures of the Otherworld have poisonous skin and horns that could really hurt you if they get a hold of you.”

I shivered at the thought of those little gnomes or that red demon-squirrel clinging to my legs or wrapping their arms around me.  I was pretty sure they wouldn’t be as gentle or smell as good as Cade.