Chapter Twenty-Two
“Loneliness and revelations are often times parallel paths.”
~Chronicles of the Fae
“Rubbish. Utter crap. Coward.” Ivy’s lip trembled as she rocked back and forth in front of the fire, clutching the pillow to her chest. Deep pain and sorrow engulfed her. She had fallen in love with a lunatic. Her bedroom was now sealed off—sheets stripped with his smell had been tossed into the laundry room. His leather jacket was propped over one of the chairs, but she refused to go near the item.
Neala, sensing her pain, had curled up beside her.
Tears that she had kept at bay, now threatened to spill forth. He did not deserve them, so she squeezed her eyes shut. Never would she again fall prey to his dazzling silver eyes. “It had to be a trick of the fading light. Yes, that’s why they glowed.”
Yet, it wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed the transformation in the man’s eyes. Ivy assumed he was special—gifted like her. He made her feel safe, treasured, loved.
She bit her lip. “Oh, Mom…it hurts. I loved him. How do I separate the real from the fantasy?” Her fingers dug into the soft material. “What a mess I’ve made here. I’m confused. I want to leave. This isn’t home anymore.”
Dropping her head onto the pillow, Ivy let the tears fall freely. Weariness cloaked her like a heavy blanket. Images from another time floated through her mind as sleep beckoned her.
“Dearest, why do you weep out here in the garden?”
“I don’t understand my visions, mama. They can’t be real. I see people who don’t look like us. They are diff…different.” She hiccupped and rubbed her eyes.
Her mother cupped her chin. “My sweet daughter, what you see is real. You have a gift.”
“Father says it’s a curse.”
“Bah! He knows nothing. It’s fear he speaks. But you, darling, have the capacity to look into the past and capture what others cannot.”
She pouted and lowered her head. “What good are they? I don’t want them.”
Her mother sat down next to her. “You never know, Ivy. One day, you might come to help another, or use them for research. You must trust in the visions, not fear them. Do you truly believe that God and the Goddess would grant you a horrible gift?” Touching Ivy’s heart, she added, “Always listen here. The mind has a way of trapping the fear inside.”
Ivy nodded her head in agreement and wiped her nose. “Saint Brigid had visions, right?”
Her mother smiled. “And let’s don’t forget, Hildegard von Bingen. Many sought her counsel, including a pope.”
Sighing, Ivy plucked a dandelion from the ground.
“What are you going to wish for, sweet child?”
Ivy smiled wistfully. “For a faery guardian to help me when I am lost.”
Bolting upright, Ivy rubbed her bleary eyes. Stretching out her body, the pain in her neck radiated down to her legs. Neala had moved to a blanket on the couch, and the fire had dwindled to embers. One hand was numb and Ivy winced, trying to bring some blood back into her fingers.
Looking up at the photo on the mantel, Ivy smiled. “Thanks, Mom for making me remember.”
Finally standing, she tossed the pillow onto a chair. Gazing out the window, early morning light stretched across the clear sky. Pink tinged the outer edges—a promise of a sunny day and hope surged within Ivy. Fear had seized her last evening—blinding her to what Conn was saying. Yes, a small part of doubt continued to linger, but she was determined to speak with the man further. Glancing at the sketch she had drawn of Conn, Ivy traced a finger over the lines of his features. “Definitely a warrior.”
Giving Neala a kiss on the head, she made her way upstairs to prepare for the new day.
An hour later, Ivy wandered along the path to the Celtic Knot. Breathing in the crisp autumn air, she walked into the store and waved in greeting to Roger. Entering her office, she checked on several incoming orders.
“Thanks for giving me a full shift today,” stated Roger, as he strolled in, handing her yesterday’s mail.
Taking the items, Ivy plopped them on her desk. “You’re doing me a favor, so thank you. Nan will stop by around noon to give you a break, but if you need anything, please call me on my cell. The order for the Thompsons should be here today. As soon as it arrives, please give them a call. Mr. Thompson ordered a rare copy of Pride & Prejudice for his wife.”
Roger saluted her. “Yes, boss.”
Smiling, she waved him away. When all her other tasks had been accomplished, Ivy left the bookstore in Roger’s capable hands and went in search of a Fae warrior.
****
Anxious and edgy, Ivy tried to steady her shaky nerves. Arriving at Sean’s, she didn’t know whether to bolt or storm into the house. Reaching for the knocker on the door, she tapped it twice and took a step back. “Oh, please be happy to see me, Conn.” Although she half-expected the man to slam the door on her face after the way she treated him last night.
When several minutes ticked by, Ivy slammed the knocker harder. Biting her bottom lip, she waited another full minute, fear snaking its way inside her. Peering to the side, she saw Sean’s car, but no sign of Conn’s motorcycle. Perhaps he’s heading back to my place?
“Good morn, Ivy Kathleen,” greeted Sean.
Ivy almost jumped out of her skin. Turning around, she smiled at the man. “How are you?”
Moving past her, he opened the door and gestured her inside. “Good, though my bones are aching with the morning chill. I have the kettle on. Care for a cup of tea?”
She glanced around, scanning for any signs of her Celt. “Sure. Would love some.”
Sean placed a gentle hand on her arm. “He’s gone. Left last night.” He walked quietly down the hall.
Stunned, Ivy stared at the retreating man. Finally recovering her senses, she ran after him and into the kitchen. “What do you mean he’s gone?”
Her friend refused to meet her hard stare. Instead, he busied himself with the tea preparations. “Exactly what I said, lass.”
She swallowed, fearing to ask the next question. “Gone…for good?”
Sean shrugged, pulling out a chair for her to sit. “Yes. I believe so.”
Shock and grief ripped into Ivy. The blow of his words was akin to a hammer on her soul. Numbness slithered inside her, removing all her joy. Sean placed a cup of tea in front of her, but she didn’t have the strength to lift the item. Did Conn not understand I was taken aback, reeling from his announcement? Yet, you did order him to leave. She clutched her fingers tightly together.
“Drink a sip of your tea,” urged Sean.
Unclenching her hands, she placed them around the cup—the warmth spreading through her frozen body. “I’ve mucked things up,” she complained.
The man took a seat across from her. “No. You were unprepared for what he told you.”
Almost dropping the cup, she squeaked, “He told you?”
Sean took a sip of his tea and nodded. Placing his cup down, he leaned back in his chair. “I am one of the privileged few to know about Conn. He once saved my life.”
Ivy’s mouth dropped open. Snapping it shut, she took a gulp of her tea, grateful it wasn’t scalding. “Do you have anything stronger?”
Sean chuckled. “Aye, but you’ll need your wits to hear my tale of how I met the Fae warrior.”
Sighing, Ivy looked away. “You have to understand how fantastical this sounds.”
“The world is filled with many wonders.”
Turning her gaze back to the man, she put her cup down. “Before you share your story, can you answer me another question?”
“Ask me anything.”
“Did you know that I’m Thomas’ daughter, not his niece?”
Muttering a curse, Sean stood and went to the cupboard. Retrieving a bottle of whiskey, he returned with two glasses. Opening the bottle, he poured a small amount into her glass, but filled his substantially more.
Ivy lifted her glass. “A toast to my father.” She downed the entire contents.
Sean drained his glass. “I suspected, but never dared to say anything. He was my friend. If he wanted to disclose the information, he would have done so many years ago. Rumors circled around Thomas and your mother, until she married Patrick. I never pried. He retreated into his own grief for many months after she left for America. However, after the first letter arrived with your picture, he transformed. Did you find out when you visited Anne Fahey?”
“Yes. The woman has not moved on with her life. I left with a bitter taste and feeling sorry for her.”
He nodded. “I feared she would speak her mind, but couldn’t fathom the secret. She cloaks herself in resentment and loneliness.”
Ivy trailed a finger over the rim of the glass. “Ever since I’ve arrived, I’ve unraveled one secret after the next. It’s enough to have me spinning around in complete confusion.”
Sean placed a hand over hers. “You’ve come home to your destiny.”
She snapped her gaze up. “I wished my mother had left and brought me back home to Ireland.”
Releasing her hand, Sean pushed away his teacup. “I am sure they both had their reasons.”
“Ones that went with them to their graves.” She leaned back in her chair. “Now, tell me your tale of Conn MacRoich.”
“Happily.”
For the next hour, Sean shared every detail he knew of the great Fenian Fae warrior with her. Amazed and in awe, Ivy listened intently. She was transported to another time within his story, witnessing the details of a friendship that spanned decades.
“Why did he return this time?” she asked softly.
“This one is his story to tell, not mine.”
Nodding her head in understanding, she placed her hands on the table. “The first time he walked into the pub my sight showed me the ancient warrior, but last night when he uttered the words out loud, I feared them.”
“You were not raised in Ireland, Ivy Kathleen.” He spread his arms wide. “The land is filled with magic everywhere—”
“But the church squashed those beliefs,” she protested.
Sean laughed heartily. “No, my wee lass. Here, we honor and respect both. Ask Father Connelly. Even the man of the cloth believes in the Fae.”
Ivy’s eyes grew wide. “No. Really?”
“Most definitely.”
“Next, you’ll be telling me about the leprechauns,” she teased.
Sean held up one finger. “We do have an expert in the village who can tell you all about them. She converses with them often.”
Ivy burst out in laughter. “Sorry,” she choked, trying to regain her composure.
“Quite all right. But don’t make fun of them out in the land. There are eyes everywhere.” He tapped a finger to his nose with a smile.
“I’ll try and remember the warning. I don’t want to offend any wandering leprechauns.”
“Ahh…yes, speaking of warnings, I must tell you that Conn and Mac O’Reilly discovered a gruesome find yesterday.”
“Wait. Conn and Mac were together?”
“Apparently they’ve formed a temporary truce. It’s the latest news at the Seven Swans.” The man shifted in his chair. “As I was saying, they made the discovery of a burnt body in the old forge on Eric Dunstan’s property.”
Ivy felt the color drain from her face. “Do they…” she swallowed, trying not to visualize the image. “Do they think it’s him?”
Sean scratched behind his ear. “Until it’s confirmed, no one is speculating. They believe it’s Mike Banister who worked for him, since Dunstan has gone missing.”
“I don’t understand. Why were they out there at the man’s place?”
“Apparently, you have strong protectors and after the break-in, they—Conn and Mac went out to confront Dunstan.”
Ivy snorted in disgust. “All for an ancient set of keys that might be linked to some treasure or relics.”
Sean folded his arms over his chest. “Yes, Conn mentioned them to me. Tales of lost relics and treasures have circulated the village for centuries. Another fable and one that is false. The keys most likely are to a dilapidated castle or building. Yours is one of the oldest in the village.”
Curious, Ivy asked, “And the other?”
“The ruins of Castle Lintel.”
“Yes…the ones I can see from the store.” She shivered. “So Dunstan might have murdered Mike Banister for what?”
“We cannot say for certain the body is Banister’s, yet. Eric made a few enemies from the moment he came into the village. For all we know, a fight happened, and Dunstan torched the body to hide the evidence.”
“I was one of those enemies,” she countered.
Sean patted her hand reassuringly. “Do not fret. The Garda is placing extra men nearby. They know of the threats to you.”
Weariness descended over Ivy, and her thoughts floated back to the reason she came to the house. Fighting back the wave of loss, she took a deep breath in and released it slowly. “Sean, where is Conn?”
He lowered his head at her. “May I ask the reason?”
Smiling, Ivy replied. “I’m in love with the Fae warrior.”
Sean smacked his hand on the table. “Good, but be warned, he’s hurting deeply.”
Standing, Ivy walked around the table and hugged the man. “Don’t worry. I pray I can heal his heart.”
Chuckling softly, he replied, “You can find him in Dublin. He keeps an apartment on the fringes of the city. I’ll fetch you the address.”
Placing a kiss on his cheek, she whispered. “Thanks, Sean.”