The Raven Queen (23 page)

She sat up, confused, and switched the light on beside her bed. Except it didn't look like her bed. The old-lady look had gone, to be replaced by pink and green girlishness. It was very strange to see her things in this setting. She swung her legs out of bed and found a pair of jeans and a jumper folded neatly on a leather chair she had never seen before. She pulled them on, and as she straightened up she staggered and put a hand out against the chest of drawers to stop herself from falling. There was a flash of movement from the corner of her eye and she snapped her head around to face the wild-eyed creature that was staring at her. It took her a couple of seconds to realize that the gaunt, scarred girl was her reflection in an ornate mirror.

She opened the door that divided her bedroom from the living room in the little cottage and saw Granda sitting by the fire. He smiled as he looked up at her. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark. She looked at the clock on the mantelpiece above the fire. Three in the morning. She wondered how she looked to him, her clothes hanging off her emaciated frame, the red puckered scar that ran down one cheek, her wild, matted hair standing on end.

‘You're awake at last,' he said.

‘How long have I been asleep?'

‘A few days,' he said. ‘You looked as if you needed it.'

She said nothing and walked across to the fire, sitting down cross-legged in front of it. She gazed into its red heart until her face began to burn and she turned her cheek to it, shaking her hair over it as a barrier. She looked at Granda.

‘My room is very … pink.'

He laughed softly. ‘Your granny decorated it for you.'

‘How is she?'

‘She was bad, for a while,' said Granda. ‘But overjoyed you are home. She's been sitting with you for days. I made her go to bed tonight. She'll be raging she wasn't awake when you woke up.'

Maddy smiled and looked back at the fire. ‘It's going to take a lot of explaining, me coming back.'

‘The Sighted will find a way,' said Granda.

‘Yes, you always do, don't you?' said Maddy, a trace of her old bitterness creeping back into her voice. She sat and thought for a couple of minutes and then said. ‘Are they gone?'

Granda sighed. ‘The Tuatha? Probably not. They haven't been seen above the mound since Danny and Roisin came back, and from the sound of things you dealt them quite a blow. But they are hard to kill, and the Seeing Stones sustain them. I'd say they are still beneath us, biding their time.'

‘You know what I did then?'

Granda nodded. ‘Danny and Roisin told us some of it, and you told us the rest during one of your more lucid moments.'

‘How did I get back?'

‘Who knows?' said Granda. ‘It seems you were able to get on the back of one of those horses you conjured up and perhaps the force of the wave swept you through the mound. Perhaps the split souls will let the Hound, out of all the mortals and the faeries, come and go as she pleases, but I would rather we didn't test that theory out. The important thing is that you are back.'

‘How did you know it was me?'

‘I didn't. But I knew you weren't dead.'

‘How?'

‘Una didn't keen,' said Granda. ‘If you had died in front of the mound in Tír na nÓg, Una would have sung for you, and the Sighted and the faeries would have heard it, wherever we were. But she was silent, so I knew you were still alive. Who else could have come out of the mound after Danny and Roisin?'

Maddy smiled. ‘Where is Una?'

‘She hasn't been seen for months,' said Granda. ‘We thought she was tracking you, staying close to you.'

Maddy frowned and fell silent again. The clock ticked away the seconds. The fire collapsed in a little heap and flared crimson.

‘They're going to come for me again, aren't they?' she asked, her voice hard and brittle.

Granda sighed. ‘Who knows, Maddy? Maybe what you have done will keep them away for the rest of your life. I think they will find a way through eventually.' He leaned down and cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him. ‘But if they do come for you again, Maddy, you'll be bigger and stronger. As you grow up, all the monsters in your life will get smaller and smaller. Even them. They know that too. Small as you are, Maddy, you gave them a bad bite. They won't forget that in a hurry.'

They smiled at each other, Maddy dashing away tears with the back of her hand. ‘Go to bed, love,' said Granda. ‘You're exhausted and you need more rest.'

‘In a minute,' said Maddy. ‘I'd like to get a bit of fresh air.'

‘Five minutes,' said Granda. ‘And then I'm putting you back to bed.

‘Five minutes,' agreed Maddy.

She slipped out into the back garden, shivering in the cold air, the gravel of the garden path cutting into the soles of her bare feet. She looked up at the stars and dragged in lungfuls of crisp air. A movement by the gate caught her eye and she smiled as a little grey figure shuffled into view.

‘Una,' she said. ‘You got through the mound!'

Una snorted with contempt. ‘Barely. Those split souls howled loud enough to make my ears bleed, but if they can't stop the Hound, they can't stop one who is bound by oath and magic to follow her. But I would appreciate it, girl, if you didn't make me do that again soon.'

Maddy grinned. ‘Then you'll be pleased to hear I won't be going anywhere for quite some time.'

‘Good!' said Una. She stood next to Maddy and they looked at the stars together. Maddy wiggled her toes, which were beginning to go numb, and marvelled at every move her body made, every twitch of muscle, the pulse of the blood running through her veins and the breath pulling in and out of her chest. She was alive. For the first time since her parents had died, years stretched ahead of Maddy that were golden with promise, a far horizon that was drenched with sunshine. She stood there, shivering, as the bright stars wheeled above her head and promised herself that she was going to enjoy every single second of her future and she wouldn't let a day go by she didn't tell the people she cared for that she loved them. Starting now.

She bent down and hugged Una hard, breathing in the smell of damp earth that always seemed to cling to the banshee's rags. ‘Thank you for watching over me,' Maddy said. ‘I love you, Una.'

‘That's nice,' said the little faerie woman, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. ‘But they do say actions speak louder than words. Any Cheese & Onion crisps on the go?'

Maddy laughed and let go of the banshee, stepping back and leading her into the warm glow of the kitchen, where Granny was waiting, with tears pouring down her face and into the curve of her smile, to sweep Maddy into her arms.

The Raven Queen
draws on Irish myth and legend to create a magical world. Read on to find out more about these ancient stories …

Banshees
– Banshees follow the great families of Ireland and all their descendants and wail just before their deaths as a warning, and also afterwards, so that the world will know someone with hero's blood has passed. Whether they are supposed to act as guardian angels for the families or whether Una simply decided to take this task upon herself, no one is really sure. But I think it's safe to say that having a Cheese & Onion Tayto-munching banshee looking out for you is not normal.

Cernunnos (ker-noo-nos)
– One of the oldest and most powerful of the Tuatha de Dannan, he clings to the form he took when he was worshipped in pre-Christian Ireland, the horned god. But he likes to linger in our world too, so he takes on human form for the winter months, calls himself Seamus
‘shay
-mus') and lives in Blarney, Co. Cork, keeping an eye on the mortal world and any coming and goings from TÍr na nÓg. It's a weird way to spend your holidays, but who's going to argue with an ancient Celtic god?

The Coranied (kor-a-need)
– Thousands of years ago, the Coranied, a mysterious race of warlocks, lived in Ireland and imprisoned the Celts. When the Celts rose up against the Tuatha, the Coranied followed them beneath the mounds. They have a unique talent – they can harvest all the bad thoughts and dreams that people have, which is what the dark faeries need for nourishment. The Morrighan protects the Coranied in return for this talent and she rations the dark faeries, keeping them too weak to wage war. The Coranied are vital to the Morrighan to keep balance in TÍr na nÓg. In turn, they are completely loyal to the Morrighan and think only of how to keep the balance. They care for no one and nothing outside of this.

Liadan
(
lee
-ah-dan)
– Means ‘grey lady' in Irish. Liadan is an old and powerful elf from the Nordic countries. No one knows why she and her clan came to Tír na nÓg seeking sanctuary, but she's as argumentative as the Tuatha de Dannan. Do you know someone in school who could start a fight in an empty room? That's Liadan. The only good thing about her is that she unites the Tuatha against her. Everyone needs someone to hate, right?

The Morrighan (more-ee-gan)
– In pre-Christian Ireland, the Morrighan was worshipped as a triple-faced goddess. She represents the maiden, the mother and the hag and is the most powerful of the Tuatha de Dannan. She speaks with a triple voice and it is her power that created Tír na nÓg and her power alone that maintains the boundaries between faerie and mortal worlds. The Morrighan is one of the most dangerous of the Tuatha. She is also known as the Raven Queen and is the living embodiment of war.
Waking the Morrighan is not something that should be done lightly.

Pooka
– The Pooka is a malicious faerie that appears in many guises all over Ireland, as a goat, a horse or a dog, always jet black with yellow eyes. Some say he is a harbinger of death, others that he is just a nuisance that terrorizes travellers up on the road at night. As Meabh's familiar, he always appears as a huge black dog.

Tír na nÓg (teer na nogue)
– The Land of Eternal Youth. The fabled realm of the Tuatha de Dannan that exists beneath Ireland's surface, the place they fled to when they lost their battles against mortals for control of Ireland. This is where the Tuatha and the lesser tribes of faeries live. Many, many people search for ways in, but you need a faerie guide to enter the realm and getting out is never as easy. Something to think about if you have things urgent to do topside – I'd clear your diary.

Tuatha de Dannan (too-ay day
dah-nan
)
– The Tuatha have many names: the Shining Ones, the Fair Folk, the Gentry. Some call them faeries, but they call themselves gods. They used to be in charge of Ireland, until St Patrick came along, and they have serious powers. They can control all the elements (air, water, fire and earth), cast powerful spells and change their form at will. They are vain and short-tempered, cruel and spiteful. They argue so much that fighting has practically become a hobby. They are the most powerful beings in TÍr na nÓg and they rule it. It's best not to upset them.

Writers always get the sole credit for putting a book together but there is a huge team behind any book that helps to bring it to life. I can't thank everybody who has touched the Blarney Trilogy, but a few people do stand out. First is Laura Cecil, my agent. Everything I write starts its journey with her. She tells me if it's going to work, holds my hand if I think it is so rubbish my career will spiral down the drain as a result, and gives me advice, which is always spot on, whether I like it or not. Niamh Mulvey has worked on all three books and has taken charge of editing the last two. As a fluent Irish speaker she is invaluable for pointing out misspellings and abuse of the language in the two books as well as being happy to spend hours discussing the finer points of plot. Thanks for leaving all the blood and gore in, Niamh! Then there is Talya Baker, who has copy-edited all three. Myself and Niamh spend days trying to turn out perfect copy so we can catch Talya out, but she always manages to find at least six mistakes on every page. But it is thanks to Talya that the books are perfect in terms of grammar and spelling, so much easier to read. She also catches all those tiny little details that don't make sense because of the cack-handed way I have written them, so each book flows smoothly. Last but not least there is my Facebook network of fellow writers, librarians and readers, who keep
me going day to day with funny GIFs and encouraging messages about how much they, or someone they know, likes Maddy. Or Fachtna. Who knew a homicidal faerie would be such a hit?