Faery Worlds - Six Complete Novels (126 page)

“Leave me alone!” I shrieked. “You come near me again, you
freak
, and I’ll call the cops!”

I bolted, sprinting up the horse path as fast as I could. I still clutched the pepper spray, and I couldn’t say why I hadn’t used it. That would have slowed him down, surely.

I never heard him come after me and even as I climbed the slope and stumbled onto our shaded back lawn, I didn’t look back. It was like the day the gnomes chased me all over again, but this time I was not escaping some horrible little creatures, I was fleeing from an incredibly good-looking guy who could very well understand me completely. I was either saving myself from that serial killer I always imagined lived down in the swamp, or I had finally gone over the deep end.

-Ten-

Message

For two weeks I ignored what had happened the morning I met Cade for the second time. I never saw him at school posing as the homeless man. It had dawned upon me later that day, once I was safely and securely locked away in my room, that all this time it was him who had been lingering outside my high school. Well, that and the fact that the memories from the night I had wandered into the swamp started surfacing in my mind, like bubbles of wax in my lava lamp. I never ventured outside my house, and I never saw his dog Fergus. It was hard forgetting about what he had said, though. If I had been completely honest, I would have answered yes to each of his questions. I did hear voices, I did see things, and my eyes did change color. But so had his, I was certain of it.

My friends at school noticed my behavior too. Thomas asked me that first week if I had gotten into a fight with my parents. I had looked at him as if he had gone nuts, but he just shrugged and said I seemed even more introverted than usual. After that I tried to act more normal. Well, normal for me at least.

But the truth was, as hard as I tried, I simply could not erase that meeting with Cade MacRoich from my memory. If that was his real name. Who on earth was he? A local college student looking for a little thrill in his life? Some ex-convict with spare time on his hands? And how could he have known about all my little eccentricities? Even my best friends weren’t privy to all my secrets. And why was he so interested in me? I was no one special. It was too puzzling, but I was determined to let it go. I had enough drama in my life.

It was during Thanksgiving weekend that I found the note taped to my sliding glass door. I had kept it locked around the clock and never used it since returning from the strange meeting with Cade. I feared he might try to sneak in and kill me.

At first I thought it was a message from Tully or Robyn, but when I unlocked the door and peeled the note off, I realized the paper was far too ornate to belong to either of them. It was expensive paper, I could tell, and falling victim to my curiosity, I flipped it over. There was an actual wax seal keeping the folded edges shut. I studied the design. An ornate Celtic knot with an eagle in the center. Intrigued, I walked to my desk and fished out my pocket knife, carefully loosening the seal so it wouldn’t break. I opened up the letter to find it addressed to me. The writing was impeccable, but not overly ornate. It made me think of a love note that’d been written during England’s Georgian period. Hah. Me get a love letter? That would be stranger than fiction.

I began to read and immediately I knew it was from Cade. I had vowed to forget what had happened, but apparently, he hadn’t. I should have crumpled it up and thrown it away, right then and there. Or, better yet, I should have taken it straight to my parents and insisted they call the police. Who would have thought that I would ever have a stalker? But deep down, I wanted this mystery cleared up, and the only way to do that was to start by reading the note. Sighing and trying to convince myself nothing bad would come of reading a simple letter, I continued on:

Dear Meghan,

I want to start this letter by apologizing for our last two meetings. As you can tell, I am not at all adept at making proper introductions. Forgive me for not contacting you sooner, but I thought it best to give you some time to let everything settle in. I wish only to make you aware of two things: who it is you really are, and where it is you come from. I will not go into detail in this letter, for these are not topics which should be discussed in such an impersonal manner. Do allow me, however, to explain our first meeting. You were lured into the swamp, not by myself, but by another who knew of you and who wished to learn more about you. I cannot remember if I explained my presence in the first place, but it was my duty to clear the area around your home of the faelah, and I was unable to finish my job before you arrived. I can only apologize to you again and hope that you might come to forgive me.

Another matter that seemed to disturb you was the fact that I did indeed return you to your residence after you became unconscious after the whole incident. Please believe me when I say that nothing ungentlemanly occurred; I merely wished to see you safe at home, and though you may not believe it, Fergus is a rather clever hound and he did lead the way. On the matter of knowing your name, I must postpone that information until we meet again. I realize this is all shocking to you, but if you try to contact the police, they will not find me. I would not blame you if you did, but you must trust me on this matter.

I will not approach you or seek you out. I shall simply wait until you are ready to learn more. When you are prepared to meet with me again, leave me a note in the hollow knothole of the oak tree along the swamp trail, the tree that is closest to your home. In the mean time, should you find your curiosity unquenchable, I suggest you learn as much about the ancient Celts as you can.

Most sincerely,

Cade MacRoich

I finished the letter and dropped it into my lap, and after a moment I picked it up and read it again. Who wrote letters like that anymore? The language was so,
antiquated
. When I gave it some thought, it dawned upon me that when he had spoken to me in the swamp, he hadn’t sounded like he was from this decade, or even this century. It was extremely odd, but then again, I attracted odd the way flowers attract bees.

I glanced up at the blank screen of what used to be my dad’s old work computer. So much for forgetting about all that had happened in the past few weeks. I didn’t know how long I stared, numb and scared, at that old monitor but at some point in time, three things clicked in my head.

First, whether all this was a hallucination or not, it was happening and I had to address it. No more pushing it aside and hoping it would go away.

Secondly, I had another option. My whole life my only choices with regards to my issues had been therapy and medication. Cade offered a third possibility; that all this was real and that he could explain it all to me. Unlikely and crazy as it seemed, I shouldn’t shun it simply because modern society would label me mentally unstable. News flash: I was halfway there already.

And last but not least, I was curious. There, I admitted it. I was one hundred percent, flat out fascinated with what Cade MacRoich had presented to me. Of course, I was terrified as well, but I had always been the type to tackle a good mystery and I was never satisfied with a cover-up story if I felt all the clues hadn’t added up.

So, taking a deep breath, I pulled out my binder, flipped to a blank sheet of paper and jotted down the words
faelah
and
ancient Celts
. I was curious, yes, but I was going to go about this the right way. Before meeting with Cade again, I was going to do my research; see how much I could find out on my own. Perhaps I would learn he was the crazy one after all.

* * *

I couldn’t find much time to research, what with midterms coming up before the winter break, but I did manage to get in a few internet searches and was rather satisfied with the results.

First I searched for the term
faelah
, and of course, nothing came up. I wasn’t surprised. I had never heard the word before in my life. Next, I searched for information on the ancient Celts. This proved to be much more promising when a hefty list of websites popped up on the screen. I clicked on one that looked legitimate and was immediately faced with a page full of knot work designs and more lists.

I skimmed the introduction and read the overview. It told me that the Celts were a group of ancient people who inhabited the British Isles and some parts of mainland Europe. They were a tribal people and practiced a pagan religion. Okay, I knew that much from Robyn already. Weird how one of my friends was into this stuff and now I had some guy suggesting I research it.
Just a coincidence,
I told myself.

I clicked on the word
pagan
since it was highlighted, and that took me to a definition. Growing up, I had been led to believe that
pagan
was synonymous with
devil worshipper
. Apparently I had been wrong. I read a few examples, nodding at the list of ancient civilizations that practiced pagan belief systems: the Romans, Greeks, Egyptians, and of course, the Celts to name a few. According to this site, most pagan cultures worshiped a multitude of gods and considered the earth and its bounty to be sacred. That didn’t sound too bad at all. In fact, it sounded much like Robyn’s own belief system.

I clicked on the link that brought me back to the main page. I looked over the different headings, my eyes halting when I read one that said
Celtic Gods and Goddesses
. I moved my cursor above it and clicked. Once again, I was greeted with a list. I scrolled down the screen, trying to figure out how to pronounce each name as it passed: Balor, the Dagda, Danu, Don, Epona, Lugh . . .

It was when I got to the Morrigan that I stopped. I read it carefully, remembering Robyn’s Halloween costume. But something else seemed familiar about the name as well . . .

Cade’s voice suddenly played in my mind: “
Cumorrig. Hounds of the Morrigan . . .
”

I clicked on the name without so much as an afterthought.

The Morrigan: major Celtic deity that is often represented in the three aspects of Neaim, Macha and Badb. She is mostly associated with war and the battlefield and is often depicted in animal form, most commonly the raven.

I stopped reading, my eyes glued to the last word of that sentence. A raven. My mind flashed back to the day I stood waiting for Tully and the afternoon I had cut my finger with the potato peeler. Both times I had seen a raven, too big to be a natural bird. And both times it had watched me, I was sure of it.

My skin prickled and I glanced out my sliding glass door. It was getting late, twilight descending on my backyard like a blanket. I got up and checked to see if the door was still locked. It was. I grabbed the comforter from my bed, wrapped myself in it, and sat back down at my desk. I pulled out my binder, found the section where I had written down my notes from Cade’s letter, and quickly jotted down the paragraph about the Morrigan.

Setting my binder aside, I returned to the site’s home page. I had read enough about gods and goddesses for the time being. I clicked on the
Otherworldly Creatures
tab. This gave me a list of things with strange names and descriptions: Leprechauns, silkies, fairies, changelings; your usual list. The little creatures that had followed me weren’t listed, but a few descriptions from other creatures matched. I decided they either hadn’t been prevalent in ancient Ireland, or people’s sightings had been sketchy.

Further down the page, I spotted a link that read
familiar animals
. Curious, I opened that link, only to find a Celtic design of several known animals accompanied by a short description. The paragraph above them said that often, animals from the Otherworld were seen by the Celts. Otherworldly animals were very distinctive, and although they were similar to earthly animals in physical makeup, they tended to be larger and white with reddish or rusty colored ears.

My heart thudded in my chest. Fergus. Cade’s dog. He was huge, white and had ruddy colored ears. And so did the dog from my childhood memories.

I quickly closed the web page and took several deep breaths. This was too much. It was as if, all my life, I had been puttering around grasping for answers, and they had been just out of my reach. Now, they were here, splayed before me in plain sight. But one big question still remained: what did all of this have to do with
me
? Why was I suddenly surrounded by symbols and creatures from an ancient pagan belief system?

Or worse,
I thought, my mouth dry as I tried to swallow,
had these things been around me my entire life, and I was just now noticing them?
The voices, the visions. Had they all been clues and answers trying to break down some invisible barrier?

I had to talk to Cade. I didn’t trust him, I didn’t know him, but he seemed to be the only one who had any clue about what was really happening to me.

Trying to fall asleep that night was a joke. How could I, what with all I had just learned? I glanced over at the clock, its glowing red letters burning an image in my mind. It was after twelve, but I couldn’t sleep. Frustrated, I kicked the sheets back and crawled over to my desk. Ripping a piece of lined paper out of my binder, I wrote:

Cade,

I researched the ancient Celts like you suggested. If you are still willing to help me, I have lots of questions to ask. Can you meet me after school next Tuesday? We get out at 2:30.

Meghan

It was crazy. I was going to ask a strange man to help me answer the biggest mysteries of my life. He could be lying. He could be insane. He could be some sadistic creep who planned to murder me and save my fingernails as trophies. I shivered. As much as my common sense wanted to steer me down a different path, something deeper, something more primitive was fighting to escape the cage I had put it in years ago.