CHAPTER Eight THE GATHERING
From the Memoir of Glendennon Catch
Sovereign Jefferson Unit, Order of the Black Swan
When it came to my attention that D.I.T.’s first priority would be Dublin, I thought of Torn Finngarick. After all he knew the culture and could, perhaps, be useful. I confess to the ulterior motive of also wanting to see all the floaters brought in from the cold once and for all. He was one of the remaining few. And everybody deserves another chance. Right?
So I suggested that Rosie take a long look at him. Because Finngarick’s default is rebellion against all authority, there could be potential management issues, but I believe his value might outweigh the trouble he’s likely to cause and I believe my wife is up to the challenge.
If you’re reading this, I know you’re thinking that I’m deliberately throwing a stumbling block into the mix so that Rosie will finally appreciate how hard it is to manage hunters. I can see why you’d come to that conclusion, but I swear in the name of all husbands paired with powerful mates, that’s not my goal. In this case, I think I may be giving more weight to Finngarick’s needs than Rosie’s.
Rosie has the benefit of a devoted and unshakeable support system that includes not just me, but her parents, Deliverance, Ram, Elora, the monks at Cairdeas Deo, and all the people at Jefferson Unit who became her extended family as she was growing up. She’ll be fine no matter what.
Torn, on the other hand, has no one but Rafael Nightsong and he is busy traveling the world as his wife’s bodyguard while she does investigative research for Black Swan. He will not be fine no matter what.
So I pointed her in his direction and hope it works out for him.
On another note, it’s exciting watching a whole new Black Swan venture take shape. This is only the second time in the long history of The Order that a hunting unit is being formed. The last time was centuries ago. The fact that my wife is in charge fills me with immeasurable pride. I will not tell her as much because her ego is already being fed by the title of “Commander”. ~~
“What’s the plan?” Rosie asked Grieve after being introduced to the new staff. “Oh, by the way. I have asked Ram and Elora to be instructors at training camp. So, adding on to what I already said, we’re going to need accommodations for them, three kids, a nanny, and two wolf dogs.”
Grieve practically gaped. “I must admit that sometimes I can no’ tell if you are, em, jokin’ or no’?”
Rosie grinned at Grieve. “Really? You can’t? Do I need a flashcard to hold up or something like that?”
“Makin’ my point. I can no’ tell if ‘twas a joke or no’.”
Rosie laughed. “The thing about Ram and Elora was not a joke. The thing about flashcards was.” She sat down in the chair in front of Grieve’s desk to have her morning tea and scone. That scenario was displaying signs of becoming habitual. “Some of these big old remote places have, like a guest house or carriage house, or something like that. You’ll find the right place. I have confidence. But you need to do it fast because we’re burning daylight.”
Grieve cleared his throat. “I’m no’ sayin’ you’re askin’ the impossible. At least no’ yet. But I will say that ‘big old remote places’ often do no’ come with central heat or modern kitchens. Many do no’ have electrical wirin’. At all. ‘Tis a big order on request is all I’m sayin’.”
“Hmmm. We can do with wood burning fires if we have people to keep the wood stocked and the fires stoked. This time of year, we might not need heat at all provided that beds are made up warm. So far as the kitchen goes. In a pinch you can find somebody to retrofit for a state-of-the-art kitchen, provided there is electrical, of course. Wave a big payoff in front of a contractor’s face and see what happens, but be sure you build penalties for not finishing on time into the contract. Big ones.”
“Very well, madam. No’ meanin’ to add to your present concerns, but many of the places that would be fittin’ your description are protected by the historical preservationists. They do no’ want the character of the old castles altered.”
“Well, if it was easy, I wouldn’t need you, Grieve. I could do with a lesser man.”
In spite of himself, Grieve gave a tiny smile of pleasure, indicating that he liked recognition as much as the next person.
“I will do my best, madam.” Grieve turned toward his computer then paused. “Wolf dogs?”
Rosie grinned. “They are so adorable. You’re going to love them!”
Grieve raised an eyebrow. “I take that to mean that, at some point, I should expect to encounter creatures no’ meant to be domesticated.”
“Exactly. Now, back to my original question. You’re very good at getting me off track, you know.” Grieve opened his mouth to protest, but Rosie went on. “What’s the plan?”
“Regardin’ the hirin’ of hunters?”
“The same.”
“I suggest that, since time is a factor, we have the candidates come here to talk to you.”
“Makes sense.”
“How long would you like to allow a first interview?”
Rosie looked at the ceiling. “Gosh. I don’t know. Is two hours reasonable?”
“What’s the purpose of the interview?”
“Wow, Grieve. You come up with the best questions.”
“Thank you.”
“Well…” As Rosie began she noticed Grieve prepare to take notes. “I want people who are qualified, but I also want them to be excited about the project. I mean, they don’t have to jump up and down and squeal.”
“I would think no’.”
“But I need to see a spark of interest. Something that tells me that they would care about outcomes beyond trading hours for pay.”
“A good point at which to begin, madam.”
“Thank you. I want people who are flexible, open to learning new methods. Of course, working well with others is a must.”
“Also good points.”
“Oh, and there’s the fact that most, almost all, of the prospects are male. I need people who won’t have issues taking orders from me.”
“Goes without sayin’. What is it that might be said or done that would mean automatic rejection?”
“You mean other than not meeting the requirements we just talked about?”
“Aye.”
“Hmmm. I don’t know. Might be one of those things that I can tell you after the interviews are over.” She laughed.
“People often present one way on paper and another in person. Two hours should give you insight as to whether or no’ they would be right for D.I.T. Whether you can articulate it or no’, I suspect you have an idea of the ideal.”
“I suspect you’re right. I’m looking for someone who is strong, quick, super smart, coolheaded, creative, resourceful, flexible, eager, enthusiastic, with good communication skills, decent people skills, no gender bias, and a strong desire to be part of this project. That’s not asking too much, is it?”
Rosie heard Grieve chuckle for the first time. “No, madam. ‘Tis no’ too much to ask of those who wish to serve Black Swan.”
“Two hours it is then.” She leaned over the desk. “Did you make a list of that list? Just in case I forget something?”
“I did. How many interviews would you like to schedule each day? With how much time in between?”
“Well, my Auntie Elora taught me that people are more relaxed if you have meetings that are set up so as to appear to be an afterthought to food.”
“No’ sure I follow.”
“Okay. ‘Let’s talk over tea.’ ‘Meet me for dinner and we’ll talk.’ ‘You want to grab a coffee?’ ‘How about a drink before dinner?’ People expect to have conversation when meeting someone for food or drink or both. It’s a scenario we’re all familiar with and we’re accustomed to having our walls down.”
“I see. So you would want to provide food and drink in your office?”
“No. Actually I think it would be better to meet in a private setting in a public place.”
“Was that an oxymoron?”
“Sounds like, but no. What I mean is, you know that café at North Bridge and Market Street?”
“Calton’s?”
“Yeah. We’re past tourist season. It has two rooms. See if you can rent the entire west room for as long as we need to do interviews. We’ll surrender at five o’clock so they won’t miss out on dinner. I’ll take a table by the window and conduct interviews while I eat, drink, and people watch all day. I’ll find out what I want to know much easier than if I had them sit on the other side of my desk.”
“Brilliant, madam.”
“Told you, Grieve. You don’t have to suck up to me.”
“The compliment was sincere.”
“Well, in that case, thanks. I’ll need to have somebody we can trust there to herd the potentials. Have the café reserve three spots at the end of the bar for my wrangler and people who happen to show up early.”
“Good idea.”
“He or she should wear some kind of name tag so as to be easily recognized.”
“Noted.” Grieve typed something, searched the screen, utilized his mouse a couple of times, then said, “They’re open for breakfast. How early do you want to get started?”
“What time do they open?”
“Nine thirty.”
“If you can get them to open early for us, then we’ll get started at eight preferably, nine at latest. I’ll interview until three. That would be three interviews a day. That’s four days, but I’ll do the twins together. And I want to save them for last, give them a chance to experience life as we know it… Oh shit. Shit. SHIT! Did I arrange for them to arrive today?”
“Who, madam?”
“Who?!? The twins. That’s who! Please, please, please tell me I didn’t forget about it.” Grieve held his hands up helplessly. “Okay. When I called you a miracle worker before, I was just being cute. Now I really need you to pull rabbits out of your ass.”
“I beg your pardon!” Grieve managed to actually look scandalized.
“Not literally, Grieve. Paddy. I need a place for those girls to stay and somebody to be their tutor and constant companion. Think time travel. We’re expecting visitors from the early nineteenth century. Somebody’s got to be with them every second. They’ve never seen a motor vehicle before and haven’t been taught stuff like, ‘Don’t step off the curb without looking to your right first’. They need modern clothes and a crash course on life in the twenty-first century.”
“When are they arriving?” Grieve said as calmly as if she was asking for a bottle of milk.
“I don’t know. Just a minute.” She pulled her phone out of the thigh pocket of her Free People cargo pants and selected Ram’s contact. “When are you arriving?” Pause. “Yes. Hello to you, too. When are you arriving?” Pause. “No. I don’t sound the least panicked. Are you going to answer the question?” Pause. She looked up at Grieve. “Three? Our time.” Grieve nodded and gave a thumbs up. She patted her heart as if to say she loved him dearly. “Supergood. We’ll be ready. Oh! And thanks for doing this. Bye.” She paused. “Wait. Wait. Wait. You still there?” Pause. “Oh good. What did she say about training camp?” Pause. “Okay.” Pause. “Okay.” Pause. “Whatever you need. Yeah. Okay. Later.”
She ended the call.
Grieve was already talking to personnel on the house phone explaining that guest accommodations and a combination tutor-watchdog were needed immediately. “Somebody who specializes in early eighteenth century Irish history would be ideal. But the most important thing is people skills. We need to make the young ladies feel at home right away.” Pause. “Aye. Two people. Twelve-hour shifts each would do nicely.” Pause. He looked at Rosie. “Gender preference?”
“Definitely female. Let’s give them a chance to be wowed by TV before we throw male pervbots at them.”
“Female,” Grieve said into the phone before hanging up. “I’m pretendin’ to know what a ‘pervbot’ is, which is disturbin’ in itself and makes me worry that you’re beginnin’ to dismantle my vocabulary.”
“Maybe your vocabulary could use a makeover, Grieve. Ever thought about that?”
He pursed his lips. “I’m no’ opposed to new concepts, but prefer to communicate with actual words.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“I do no’ communicate for fun.”
“And therein lies your problem.”
“I thought I was a brilliant miracle worker.”
“We don’t exist in a vacuum. Both things can be true.”
He wisely decided to change the subject. “You were saying that you’d like to conduct three interviews a day for four days. But since the twins will interview together, that leaves a slot in case someone does no’ work out. Should we plan on an extra day in case several do no’ pass muster?”
“Sounds like the prudent thing. Can we start tomorrow?”
“I do no’ want to disappoint you, but before interviews can be scheduled, someone needs to contact the prospect, introduce the idea of D.I.T. and inquire as to whether or no’ they have an interest in an interview. Would you like me to ask personnel for a recommendation?”
“No. I know who should do it.”
“Who?”
“Aelsong.”
Grieve practically sputtered. “The princess?!? But madam, her days are heavily scheduled far in advance.”
“Bet she loves that,” Rosie muttered.
“I did no’ catch that.”
“Her obligation to Black Swan trumps her obligation to the royal seat cushion.”
“What’s a royal seat cushion?”
“I don’t know. It’s just an image that came to mind. Trust me. She’ll jump at the chance to do something besides cut ribbons and cuddle new lambie pies.”
“Madam…”
“Leave this one to me, Grieve. I got this.”
“Alright, but… aside from all else, her position has cast her in a role of celebrity that is no’ easily escaped. Cameras. Crowds. ‘Tis her reality now.”
Rosie smiled wide. “Then we’re going to help her escape for a couple of days.”
“Might I be so bold as to ask just one more question?”
“Shoot.”
“Why do you feel so strongly that she’s the one for this task?”
“You know her, right?”
“Aye.”
“Aelsong has the sort of personality that puts people at ease. And while they’re at ease, she can pretty much read their minds and get them to do what she wants.”
“I can no’ deny that.” Grieve inhaled deeply. “So how will you manage to make her invisible?”
“I promised you one question. Don’t be piggy.”
“Her assistants won’t let you in.”
“Come on, Grieve.” Rosie laughed. “You should know that’s the least of our problems. Besides, I don’t need her to conduct the pre-talk with all the candidates. I’m going to have Glen broach the subject with a few of them, the ones he’s worked with.”
“’Tis a grand idea, madam. How many would that be?”
“Let me see the list.” She reached out for it and Grieve put it in her hand. Skimming down, she said, “We have twenty people on my list. I need twelve to work out, but if we end up with more, it couldn’t hurt to have a second string.”
“If that means what I think it means, I would no’ let them know you call it that.”
“You’re probably right. We should call it Phase Two.” Grieve made a note of that. “Anyway, I’ll ask Glen to talk to five of these twenty. Two I’ve already seen. That leaves thirteen for the right royal princess of Irish elves and Scotia fae.
“See if you can set up the café for the day after tomorrow. Do you have a special number we can dedicate to interview calls? The scheduling should go through you.”
“I can arrange it within the hour.”
“Okay. How are we coming on the training camp facility?”
“I’ll check on progress as soon as I’m dismissed.”
“Dismissed?” Rosie blinked a few times trying to place his meaning before she realized he was talking about his meeting with her. “Oh. Well. Consider yourself dismissed then. Except that, um, what am I supposed to be doing between now and the day after tomorrow?”
“Would you like to have a chat with the O’Malley tutor before the twins arrive?”
“Yes! I would like that.”
“Very good. Would you like to have a talk over tea in the dinin’ room?”
“Why, yes, Grieve. That sounds both dignified and productive.”
He bowed slightly. “Perhaps by the time you return we might have some possibilities for trainin’ camp locale. You could zip off to scout and see what you think?”
“Excellent. We’re moving right along.”
“Indeed we are, madam.”
Over tea, Rosie satisfied herself that Presmona Gillis would capably assist the twins’ acclimation to twenty-first century life. She was well-spoken, just past thirty, faint laugh lines indicating that she knew how to put life in perspective. They decided that her O’Malley watch shift would begin at eight in the morning and end twelve hours later after dinner. Ms. Gillis suggested that perhaps the nighttime hours should be spent with someone close to the twins’ own age who would better be able to relate to their transition and, perhaps, teach them about some of the cultural and technological hallmarks of that particular generation.
“That’s a terrific idea, Gillis,” Rosie said.
The woman drew back slightly. She’d never been called ‘Gillis’ before. It wasn’t that she resented it, or even disliked it, it was simply a unique experience.
“Um, thank you, Ms…”
“Commander.”
Eyebrows shot straight up at that before Gillis said, “Yes, ah, Commander. I wasn’t told your title.”
Rosie smiled. “No problem and no surprise. Everything about this is new. Do you have your phone on you? I’d like you to have my direct number in contacts. Just in case.”
While Gillis was fishing out her phone, she said, “Just in case of what?”
Rosie took the phone and, as she typed in information said, “Hope for the best. Prepare for the worst. Right?”
“Of course. When you say, um, prepare for the worst, what are you thinking that might be?”
“Honestly, I think the worst thing would be the twins getting away from you in the middle of Edinburgh with bows and arrows and without knowledge of how things work in our age.”
Gillis nodded, looking serious. “Yes. I see how that could be potentially…”
“Disastrous.”
Rosie instantly wished she could take back the last part of their conversation, because Gillis was looking freaked out. Rosie set the phone down on the table, but didn’t return it to Gillis.
“You know, maybe that’s overstating a little. Let’s come up with a failsafe.”
“What do you mean?”
Rosie motioned to the server who came to the table immediately. “Could you bring me a house phone?”
He nodded and hurried away.
“What do you have in mind?”
“The concern I read on your face made me realize that you need backup. We hope that everything about this will be uneventful, but we’re dealing with a freak basket of unknowns.” Rosie stopped and looked away. “Just a second. I need to make a note of that. It’s a good way for the pre-interview people to describe D.I.T. to my future hunters.” She grinned as she typed that into the notes app on her phone. “That will either pique interest or it will send them running in the other direction.”
Gillis nodded in agreement. “I can see that. Yes. As I’m probably in the category of running in the other direction.”
“No. No. You’re perfect. I just need to make a slight adjustment to the conditions of this…” She wiggled her head on her shoulders, “time travel experiment.”
The server handed her a wireless version of the house phone. Rosie didn’t know the Headquarters directory by heart, as Grieve probably had within an hour of receiving it. But she did know how to reach Simon.
“Simon?” She looked at Gillis and realized she shouldn’t use the familiarity that was hers by virtue of family connection in front of the Director’s personnel. “I mean, ah, Director?”
“Ms. Storm.”
“Commander Storm.”
“So it’s Commander today, is it?”
“I thought you knew. It was settled three days ago.”
“Well, then, I suppose I’m out of touch.”
“That’s another conversation. Can you spare a brace of hunters for, oh,” she scrunched up her mouth as if calculating, “three days?”
“No.”
“Two days?”
“What’s this about?”
“The O’Malley twins.”
“I’m too busy to play guessing games.”
“Oh, sorry, so much happening.” Rosie gave Simon a quick summary of why the twins would be in residence within hours and the potential problems that might entail. “Gillis is taking on the job of acquainting them with life in the here and now, but she’d be no match for those girls if they decided to… I don’t know. Leave her behind and go exploring the wilds of Calton Hill?”
Simon’s displeasure was evident when he answered. “And who got us into this predicament that is fraught with obvious missteps? Rammel? No surprise. You? Elora Rose. You’re going to have to think through ramifications before you make decisions. Like chess. Someone in your position must be able to think several steps ahead.”
Rosie smiled. “Is this a reprimand? I’ve never had a reprimand before. It’s not so bad.”
“Then I’m not doing it right. Why don’t you come to my office, post haste, and let me give you the full on-the-carpet treatment?”
“Uh, no thanks. This is good. Consider me reprimanded.”
“You’ve left me no choice but to provide Gillis with security. That doesn’t please me. Are you getting that?”
Rosie nodded even though Simon couldn’t see what she was doing. “I’m getting that. Yes. Definitely. Next time I will ramify thoroughly. Especially when dealing with Ram’s suggestions.”
“Are you being funny?”
“Absolutely not.” She looked up at Gillis and gave a slight shake of the head to indicate that there was nothing to worry about. “Sir.”
“When will Gillis be beginning her tutelage?”
“Eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“Very well. Two of my knights will be in your office tomorrow morning at eight, but mind you, knights are accustomed to being asleep at that hour.”
“So Gillis needs to have a backpack with Monster drinks?”
She heard Simon sigh over the phone. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“We got it covered, boss. And thank you. I mean that.”
“Don’t let it happen again.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Rosie ended the call she knew Simon was thinking that wouldn’t be the last time she’d be asking for help to correct an error. Truthfully it was comforting for her to know that someone as supremely competent as Simon had her back. And that D.I.T. had his complete support. But still, she didn’t like appearing to be flighty or disappointing people. So she made a personal vow to try to avoid making messes he’d have to clean up.
To Gillis, she said, “You’re covered. You’ll be bird dogged by two of the knights. If the twins try to get away from you, they won’t get far.” Except that the knights will be sleepy and not on their A game. “Believe me.”
Gillis looked visibly relieved. “Thank you, um, Commander. I admit I was a little worried.”
“My office tomorrow morning about eight. Bring the O’Malleys and the intern who’s gonna babysit them at night. The knights will be there. We’ll have meet, greet, coffee and scones all around.”
Gillis smiled hesitantly. “Alright. Do you have a plan you want me to follow? Rules?”
“Your job isn’t just to tag along and make sure the twins don’t get lost in Scotia. It’s to make sure they’ve been exposed to everything our time has to offer and feel comfortable with it. Three days from now they’re going to interview with me, like everybody else. By that time I want to see that they have what it takes to adapt. You have a little less than three weeks to make them twenty-first century women.”
“No pressure.”
Rosie chuckled. “Gillis. There are whole divisions of Black Swan that are nonstop pressure. My husband is part of that world.”
“I know. That probably made me sound like a pussy.”
Gillis had been so prim and proper to that point that the use of the word ‘pussy’ caused Rosie to bark out a surprised laugh. “No worries, Gillis. People who say they don’t want to sound like pussies are never pussies. You should get something and write that down,” Rosie teased. “Wisdom for the ages and all.”
Gillis laughed. “I will.”
“My assistant, Grieve, will call you when the twins are on the way from the whisterport so you can meet them.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Sheridan and Shivaun both felt their confidence melt away when the big wooden gates creaked open. They were firmly rooted to the spot where they stood. Rammel waited on the other side with arms crossed and a big wide grin.
“Come now, little ladies. You’re goin’ on the adventure of a lifetime.”
They glanced at each other and moved forward, each carrying a small burlap bag of personal belongings, bows and quivers strapped over their backs.
“This is called a car,” he said. “Since you have no means for comparison, you do no’ yet know this, but ‘tis also an exceedingly fine example of automobile. Another name for car.” They looked at the Ferrari as if they were wondering what it was for. “This is our transportation for the first leg of our journey. We’re goin’ to Scotia.”
“Land of the fae?” Shivaun asked with a large helping of incredulity.
“Aye,” Ram said as he opened the trunk of the car for their bags. When he tried to take the bows and arrows, they resisted. “You’ll have them again when we reach our destination. Givin’ my word on that.” He waved toward the car. “But you can see that shootin’ inside this vehicle would be impossible.”
They considered that for a moment then handed over their bows.
“Excellent!” Ram declared. “Now who wants shotgun? That means who wants to sit in the front with me? We’ll get to what a shotgun is at another time.”
“I will,” said Shivaun.
When Sheridan got into the backseat, Ram said, “This is called a seatbelt. The car can go faster than anything you’ve e’er seen. So you need to wear it.”
“Why?” she asked as she watched him demonstrate how to fit the pieces together.
Ram started to say, “In case of impact,” but decided it might not be prudent to mention car crashes within minutes of them seeing a car for the first time. Baby steps. “Because it’s the law,” he said. “Now for you.” He motioned to Shivaun. After repeating the seatbelt demonstration for Shivaun, he trotted around to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel.
“Okay. Here we go,” he said cheerfully.
But when he started the powerful engine, both girls looked panic-stricken.
“Do no’ worry.” He smiled. “You’re with me.”
Seeing that they were nervous, Ram decided to start slow, because the fastest racehorse in the world cannot exceed thirty miles per hour. Because they’d be on dirt roads for half an hour, he reasoned that they’d be ready for more by the time they reached B blacktop roads.
At that point in the journey the world didn’t look all that different. Lots of trees and sky. Ram’s philosophy was that filling the air with conversation always eased strained situations.
“Are ye excited?” he said.
He looked at Shivaun intermittently to get her reaction.
“I suppose,” she answered.
“You should be. There’s so much to the world you have no’ yet dreamed of.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Well, this fine automobile in which we’re ridin’ is one of millions that travel roads all over the world.”
“Millions?” Sheridan asked from the rear.
“You’re makin’ that up,” said her sister.
Ram shook his head. “I’m no’. And there’s more.”
“What?” asked Sheridan.
“Do you feel like we’re goin’ fast?”
“Aye,” both said in unison.
He chuckled. “But ‘tis no’ fast. This car will go five times this fast.”
Shivaun snorted. “You are makin’ that up.”
“Pretty soon you’ll be takin’ that back,” he said. He noticed Shivaun look back at Sheridan. “When we get to paved road, I will show you.”
“You’ll be makin’ this… car go five times this fast?” said Sheridan from the back.
“No. I’ll be makin’ the car go twice as fast.” He let that sit for a minute before saying, “But the machine that will take us to Scotia will fly through the air and ‘twill go five times as fast.”
“I do no’ believe you,” Shivaun said with the certainty of someone who’s sure she’s in the right.
“’Tis why I’m tellin’ you these things now. I do no’ want to be springin’ big surprises on you. So I’m givin’ you a chance to get used to the idea.” He glanced at the clock. “We’ll be turnin’ onto paved road in twenty-five minutes. By then I need you to be ready to go twice as fast.”
Shivaun looked unsure of herself. “For how long would we be travelin’, em, twice as fast?”
“For just a bit. Ten minutes maybe. Then we’ll fly the rest of the way.”
“How is that possible?”
“You have a pump in your kitchen that brings well water into your house. Do ye no’?”
“Aye. We do.”
“That’s probably the most sophisticated machine in the New Forest. But since the time the people of Black on Tarry decided to remain isolated from the rest of the world, there’ve been amazin’ developments in machinery. The rest of the world continued to invent and experiment.”
“Aye, but how would we fly?”
“Ah, then. You know the weathervane on top of Smith’s shed?”
“Aye.”
“Have you ever seen it spinnin’ very fast durin’ a storm?”
“Aye.”
“We’re going to fly in a contraption that has somethin’ like a weathervane on the roof of it. It spins so fast you can no’ even see it spin. So fast ‘twill lift us off the ground, raise us high, and take us to Scotia. You’ll be able to look out the windows and see the Earth pass below.”
The twins seemed to take a minute to digest that. After a time, Shivaun said, “And you’re really no’ makin’ it up?”
“Swear to Paddy. ‘Tis all true. The comin’ days are goin’ to astound you. And if you decide to work for Black Swan, you’ll become the only people besides myself and my family who are privileged to migrate between the two worlds. ‘Tis a grand way to be, because there’s much to be said for both.”
He steered the conversation toward their education. Liam had recognized their potential and given them the same classical, great books education that Ram had received, which meant the twins would be head and shoulders above their peers in some ways and woefully ignorant in others. Such as non-European geography, chemistry, and history after Napoleon. He also asked what they were hoping to get out of the adventure on which they had just embarked.
They were thinking about that when Ram pulled the Ferrari onto the road. Mindful of the fact that they were automobile virgins, he accelerated slowly. By the time he reached sixty, which was fast for the two lane winding road, he looked over to see how Shivaun was doing.
To his surprise, she was wearing a big grin. “You’re right. ‘Tis amazin’.”
As they began to pass other vehicles and farms, the girls got very quiet. Ram sensed that they were curious, but not afraid. He felt the tension he’d been holding in his muscles ease away. He hadn’t been wrong about the twins. They were going to be perfect for Rosie’s project.
As they pulled up to the whisterpad and the small hangar Ram kept for the purpose of housing a car, the twins’ eyes went wide again.
“That’s it? The flyin’ thing?”
Ram pulled into the hangar, parked, and turned off the engine. “Aye. ‘Tis.”
He got out and shook hands with the man who owned the sheep farm on which they stood. For a fair fee he leased the land for the whisterport and made sure the car was secure.
“Prince Hawking,” the man said, offering his hand.
Ram shook hands and smiled. “Mac. Is all well with ye?”
“Aye. ‘Tis.”
“I have some precious cargo to take to Scotia.” He motioned to the twins. “This is Shivaun and Sheridan O’Malley.”
“All that Irish comeliness is enough to blind an elf,” Mac said.
The twins weren’t sure how to react to that. Everyone they knew had known them all their lives. So it was their first experience with having a stranger comment on their beauty.
Ram opened the trunk of the car for them to retrieve their things. When they pulled bows and arrows out, Mac’s eyebrows almost met his hairline.
Ram gave no explanation, but offered a teasing admonishment. “No joy ridin’ in the car, Mac. I’ll be back next month. What would you like me to bring?”
“I do no’ want to seem greedy. But if you’re offerin’, I would no’ turn away a bottle of Knappogue Castle 1951.”
“You’re speakin’ my native tongue, Mac. I’ll bring ye a bottle if you’ll spare me two fingers and a minute by your fire.”
The sheep farmer beamed. “Nothin’ could please me more.”
“Well, we’re expected in Edinburgh. So we should be goin’.”
“Safe travels,” Mac said with a wave as he began to close the hangar doors and punch in the electronic alarm code.
The whister pilot was standing by.
“Angus. This is Shivaun and Sheridan O’Malley.” Ram jerked his chin toward the twins as if the pilot might have thought he was referring to someone else.
The pilot said nothing, but nodded at the girls politely. He opened the cargo space and stepped back, waiting for them to stow their bows and bags.
They looked at Ram.
“Go on,” he said. “Again, you’re no’ shootin’ inside the whister. You will get your things when we arrive.”
The twins seemed to silently consult each other for a couple of seconds, then put their things in the cargo hold.
Ram sat in the front with the pilot. He was gratified to see that the O’Malleys didn’t need help with seatbelts.
When the whister lifted off, Ram’s head was turned toward the pilot so that he saw the twins grab hands out of the corner of his eye.
No squealing.
No shrieking.
He took that as a hopeful sign.
When they reached cruising altitude, he looked back. They were both rapt, practically had their noses pressed against the windows.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“Everythin’ looks so different from up here,” she said.
“To be sure it does,” Ram agreed.
“So many houses,” said Sheridan. “So many people.”
Ram and Angus exchanged a look because they were in a very sparsely populated area of Ireland.
Within minutes they were over water headed toward the Firth of Clyde and the Scotia mainland.
“Take us a wee bit north so the lasses can get a look at Glasgow.”
Angus nodded.
In twenty minutes they were over the outskirts of Glasgow. The twins, who had been quietly chattering with each other the whole way, went silent.
“’Tis impossible,” Sheridan said. “There can no’ be so many people in the world.”
“’Tis a big job ahead of you,” Ram told the girls. “Gettin’ your minds around life out here. I hope you’re up to it.” Ram was hoping that a bit of a challenge would give them motivation to see the process through, no matter how alien and scary it might seem. They struck him as the sort to be determined and not let anything get in their way once their minds were made up.
By the time the whister set down at the Black Swan hangar in Edinburgh, the girls were reeling from their full submersion introduction to modern life. But Ram had to admire that they were both working hard at hiding the fact that they were shaken by the revelations of flying machines and people who lived on top of each other, literally.
A van was waiting to take them to Headquarters.
Almost numbed by their experiences over the past two hours that seemed fantastical to the twins, they woodenly got their things from cargo and walked toward the van.
Gillis was waiting to greet them as instructed by Rosie.
“Sir Hawking,” she said to Ram.
The twins looked at Ram. “Sir Hawking?” Sheridan asked.
“On Black Swan premises, among those who work for The Order, I’m known by my title as knight.”
“You mean you’re one of the vampire hunters you told us about?” They seemed more astounded by that than anything else that had happened so far.
“Retired. Well, semi-retired. But aye.”
“Do not let him get away with pretending to be humble,” Gillis said. “His portrait hangs in the Hall of Heroes. He’s the most decorated knight of our era.”
She held out her hand to Ram. “Presmona Gillis. Honored to meet you. I’m going to be getting the O’Malleys up to speed on life in our time.”
The twins looked at Ram with newfound appreciation. “So you’re no’ just a royal with a pretty face,” Shivaun said.
As Ram was trying to decide how to respond to that, Gillis told him, “Very well. Package delivered. Thank you.” To the twins she said, “You can call me Gillis.” She didn’t know where that came from, but sometime during her meeting with Rosie, she must have decided she liked being called Gillis. “Say goodbye to Sir Hawking for now. I’m going to show you where you’ll be staying for the next few days.”
Ram thought he saw a flash of fear in Sheridan’s eyes at the idea of being left in the strange place, with a human no less. Up to that point the only humans the twins had ever seen were Ram’s teammates and that had been long ago.
“If you make the cut and decide to enlist, I’ll be seein’ you at trainin’ camp. My whole family will be there. Meanwhile, keep an open mind and approach learnin’ with an adventurous spirit. This is an opportunity offered to a tiny handful of souls who come and go from this Earth. Bein’ selected to be here is an honor you do no’ yet understand, but if you stay, someday you’ll appreciate that everything here is larger than life.”
In some ways, Ram’s comments were confusing, but in others they were comforting. The twins nodded at him and indicated they were ready for whatever happened next.
He stopped them as they turned to go. “If, at any time, you want to be taken back to Black on Tarry, let Gillis know and I’ll come fetch ye. This is no’ a trap. ‘Tis a grand privilege.”
Rammel’s parting words made both of them smile. Apparently it was the right thing to say. Knowing they could ask to go home at any time seemed to make them relax. They waved and followed Gillis toward the elevator.
Ram stood and watched as Gillis explained about elevators. When the doors opened, Gillis motioned for them to step in. The O’Malleys took one look at the enclosed box and shook their heads.
He couldn’t hear what was being said, but after another minute or so, they began walking toward the grand staircase in the center of the lobby.
Too much too soon, he thought.
The O’Malleys got a two room apartment with twin beds in the one bedroom and a pull out sofa in the living room where their nighttime attendant would sleep. When they arrived, Gillis called Lacey Briarbog, the intern who would be with them at night, and told her to meet them in the dining room for supper at six.
The twins were cordial and polite to Gillis, but made an instant connection with Lacey that transcended manners. They even followed her onto the elevator after dinner to ride to the fourth floor. She showed Sheridan what the buttons meant and how to use them.
When Gillis left the twins for the night, the two of them were sitting cross-legged on the pulled out mattress, wearing pajamas Lacey had bought as a welcome gift. Lacey was explaining all the different things available on TV while the twins learned the ins and outs of remote usage. Looking on, one would not guess that, hours earlier, they’d never been in a place that had electricity, much less remotes.