Eire of Hostility
*
Not too long after Liam had gone off to work, Cora sat at her old computer in the small den. She was once again browsing scenic vistas in the Greek islands and making notes for when she and her husband vacationed there.
Her internet surfing was also a distraction before she went back up to Jane's room. Even if her youngest daughter was still asleep, as she was earlier, Cora would wake her and get to the root of why Jane was a bundle of nerves. She doubted that the girl could have slept through that rare lightning strike -and so close to the house! So hopefully she and her daughter could get right down to a bit of a chat before Kate came over later in the morning.
Just as Cora was logging off, she heard a knock at the storm door. Coming to it, she saw a young man out on the path just beyond the stoop, standing in the morning sunshine. He appeared moderately tall and fit, and somewhere in the age range of a uni student.
The lad had shiny, thick, shoulder length black hair; it fell around a handsome, shaven face. His vivid blue eyes showed a hint of nervousness. Under a blue and black plaid flannel jacket was a black t-shirt with a white Celtic symbol of family. He otherwise wore blue jeans going to fade, and blue and white runners. Out on the cold, damp lawn behind him, laying in content repose, was a giant brown Newfoundland dog.
Hesitant about strange men knocking on her door, Cora did not open it to ask his business as most folks might. Her kidnapping a few months back was still fresh in her mind, and she thus had little care if her justifiable reactions seemed rude.
She glanced past the lad to the driveway and road, but saw no other cars. Thinking he was a local bloke that she was somehow unfamiliar with, Cora's tension eased somewhat. He kept his place with a pleasant expression, but said nothing; she admitted to herself that at least the fetching young man was taught manners, and not to speak out of turn. Still, she would rather he had a proper haircut instead of a thick mane.
Stepping closer to the glass door, Cora asked loudly, "Yes?"
The pleasant expression remained. "Good morning," the young man said with an odd inflection to his Irish vernacular, "might I have a moment of Jane's time, if she is available?"
'And who -" Behind Cora, there was a stomping of feet coming down the stairs, and then Jane was brushing past her as she tossed a bulky necklace away carelessly. Flinging the storm door open, Jane, wearing an open fuzzy periwinkle robe and matching slippers over baggy gray sweatpants and sweatshirt, ran through it and leaped with a squeal at the young man.
Macklin caught Jane and held her tight, keeping her fuzzy slippers dangling off the ground. His grip on her was strong, but hers was almost desperate as she squeezed herself to him with her face buried in his neck. He felt her heart pounding even faster than his own, and pressed his face into her untied coppery brown hair. They clung to each other while Macklin spun her in slow circles on the lawn, unaware he was even doing so. They didn't speak; just the presence of the other was enough for both of them.
With a voice laden with surprise and castigation, they both heard Cora say, "Jane McCarthy!"
Jane reluctantly released her clutch and slowly slid to her feet. With her hands gripped on his coat as a measure of reality, she looked at the scowl waiting for her. "Mam, this is Mac..."
"Mac O'Malley," He said to cover Jane's hesitation, "pleased to meet you, Mrs. McCarthy."
Cora wasn't going to let the young man's charming smile win her over so easily. She stepped onto the stoop and held the door open with her shoulder; her crossed arms stayed in place. Cora's visage softened when she looked at him and said, "Thank you, Mr. O'Malley." That appearance turned stern once again when she looked at her daughter. "I think you have some explaining to do, Jane."
"Actually, Cora," said a soft, deep voice from her left, somewhere out on the lawn, "I believe that is my responsibility."
Both of the McCarthy women's heads spun in that direction. Jane gasped and huddled herself tighter against Macklin. Cora stood, staring past the open storm door, and silently mouthed her father's name.
Aldritch stood along the side border of the front lawn in the morning shadows of a scots pine tree. His long, damp flaxen hair was pulled over his skull and down his back, which gave his lean, strong facial features more prominence. Even in the shade, traces of moss could be seen on the lower parts of his russet trench coat, as well as his gnarled staff. He held himself in a pose that, while naturally intimidating, was trying to be anything but.
"There are words to be said between us," Aldritch said in the uncomfortable silence. "I owe you that much, at the least. Perhaps you and I might adjourn to a less conspicuous location?" His request was to Cora alone, and said with a tone that excluded company. Macklin and Jane understood immediately, although they weren't aware of the connection between the two. What Cora McCarthy and a giant fae could have in common was beyond either of them.
Cora stared at Aldritch for another few moments, and then her eyes flared open in realization that her daughter and a stranger were still present. She worriedly glanced at them and then back to her true father. "But... what about -"
"There is no need for concern," Aldritch said as he stepped out from under the needled boughs of the tree. He walked toward them and explained. "The young man is from the same place as I, and he has told me interesting things about Jane." Aldritch looked at Jane and gave a nod of recognition; she responded with a flinch. He overlooked his granddaughter's fearful reaction.
"My Jane… How is she… Why are you letting her see you?" Cora stammered.
"Jane could see me in any event. She also has a better understanding of the fae, in some respects, than most others would presume to. Whether in his company or mine, her welfare is paramount." Aldritch stopped when he came close to the three, hunching over to diminish his own imposing figure. Holding his staff casually, he asked, "Am I welcome in your home?"
Nodding her head before she found her voice, Cora replied, "Y-yes, you are welcome here... I would - forgive my manners; please come in."
Aldritch held the door open so that his daughter could step back in, and then looked at Jane. "You are said to be a young lady of unique talent and energy; I look forward to meeting you again soon."
Jane's grip on Macklin tightened. He looked down to catch her eyes. When she peered up at him, he gave a reassuring smile and said, "As before, Jane, I will let no harm come to you -"
"Promise me," Jane said urgently.
"What?"
"Promise me! You keep sayin' that you'll protect me, like, so swear to it!" Her tone was both pleading and demanding.
"Jane, I - I don't -"
"I've been goin' mental since I returned home, and my nerves are in flutters! So damn it, Macklin, you promise me you'll look out for me." Jane's lower lip quivered as raw emotions came forward. "I - I'm alone in this. I need someone who understands, someone who won't see me as a freak or use me like a slave. You used that word before - 'slave'. It's plaguing me! Sleep is torture, I can barely keep a bite settled, and now I'm seeing fuckin' monsters in my own village! So I want your word that you'll help me, like you said." With her eyes searching his, Jane added with a desperate whisper, "Please."
The young fae's expression turned from encouragement to concern. He glanced up at Aldritch, who gazed back at him with an arched eyebrow. Macklin looked back at Jane and said, "You don't understand; an oath sworn by a fae... it carries power..."
"Promise me!" A single tear leaked from the corner of Jane's eye; she quickly wiped it away to keep her distressed and almost defiant gaze on him.
Macklin looked into her forest green eyes flecked with lighter hues. He also peered into her outer thoughts. In both was frantic fear and confusion, along with an aching vulnerability. He couldn't resist, and kissed Jane gently on her soft, trembling lips. He pulled away and quietly said, "I vow, Jane McCarthy, to watch over you and stand against any aggression on your path."
Gripping one of his hands in both of hers, Jane whispered, "Thank you."
"
Jane," her mother called to her from the doorway, "will you be alright with... your friend for a spell?" With a simple gesture to the giant fae next to her, Cora added, "He and I will have a chat, and then you and I will have one of our own."
When Jane didn't immediately respond, Macklin peered down at her worried expression. Her outer thoughts were awash in concern for her mother being alone with the intimidatingly huge, dank fae with the twisted staff. Macklin took Jane by the shoulders to get her attention. "Jane," he said with a smile, "neither you nor your mater need be afraid. You are among friends."
"As a matter of clarification," Aldritch said, "excepting you, Macklin, she is among family. As you would learn of it anyway, I am her grandsire."
Fear turned into shock as Jane's head snapped back to the giant fae. "You're... Aldritch?"
Cora stared at her daughter. "You know him?"
"Kate told me."
"The revered dryad Aldritch of the Old Wood is your grandsire," Macklin said with admiration. "You must be proud."
"I'm not sure what I am," Jane responded with a bewildered tone.
Cora kindly said to her daughter, "I'm glad you turned to Kate. Perhaps while you show your friend and his dog about the village, you can pop by and say hello to your sister, and you might explain how our plans for the day have changed somewhat. But first, young lady," she went on as her tone hardened, "you go upstairs and make yourself presentable; I won't have a daughter of mine traipsing about looking like a rotten traveler."
Jane looked up at Macklin with that spirit in her eyes that he remembered and was drawn to. "I'm sure we can somehow fit Mix in the back of my car," she said with enthusiasm, "and I can show you around. While you're in my land, I give my word to teach you everything you want to know, if I can. A promise for a promise sounds fair, right?"
Giving her a grin and a wink, Macklin replied, "I'll hold you to it. Now do as your mater bids; I'll be waiting here."
After Jane hurried between the looming Aldritch and her mother, she located the discarded necklace Brody and Kate had given her and then ran up the stairs with renewed vitality.
Cora turned to her unearthly father and the young man. "I'll just go put the kettle on for tea. Mr. O'Malley - Mac - I'll expect you to keep up the same manners you've shown thus far, and keep your word to my Jane. Aldritch, perhaps you should step in soon before you catch an eye."
"Wise words, Cora; I'll step in presently." When she nodded and headed off to the kitchen, Aldritch turned to Macklin. Not wanting to witness the same anguish he selfishly subjected on Orla Gilroy and their offspring, Cora, Aldritch thought to have such offenses end with him.
He reached a long arm out, rested it on the young fae's shoulder and said, "Even if the elements did not bind oaths to us, I am confident that you would not break yours. With that being said, if you pursue Jane's heart only to treat it as a possession or bauble and then abandon it in the course of your oath, then you will face my wrath." Upon those words, Macklin blanched; Aldritch realized he'd been too blunt, as usual. With a softer tone, he simplified his meaning. "Try to learn from my mistakes to avoid your own, and no one's suffering will come from it."