Isle of the Faeries

On Keepers

I'm not too sure how I feel about the pacing on the second half of this chapter but here it is!

Breena

      When I get home Declan and I get the livestock in early because we won't get back from Grady's funeral until after dark. Fiona is at the stove cooking an early dinner. But I need a shower, the hot water feels good on my muscles but I don't have time to linger, I have to find something decent to wear.

      I settle on an unstained pair of jeans and a clean black shirt not that you'll be able to see it under my weather stained jacket. We eat a quick dinner of scrambled eggs, toast and lamb before piling into the truck. After a few tries Declan is able to convince the hunk of rusted metal to groan to life, the radio picks up only static.

      Fiona is sandwiched between Declan and I on the ten minute ride to the funeral cliff. The funeral cliff is the northern most cliff and the highest on the island and is typically the place where the pyres of the lost burn. It is where we held our mum's fire almost a year ago. Now a different flame glows as bright as the sunset to the west.

     The MacFarlane's sit on one of the several log benches that circle the fire, the fire flickers and paints their faces with light and shadows. The sun is nearly down, islanders mill around the flames reminiscing quietly and comforting the grieving parents. The fiddlers and pipers play as they do at all the funerals, letting music speak where words cannot. I always feel strange at these funerals, I've only ever been to handful of them, when our parents were alive the rarely let Declan, Fiona and I go, we only went if we knew the person directly.

      Declan leads the way over to the MacFarlane's, he knows them best. We tell them that we are sorry for their loss. The words probably sound empty and hollow to their ears; I know that's how they sounded to me last year.

      From there I wander over to the edge of the cliff that overlooks Pebble beach. I sit down and I close my eyes and let the music wash over me, it is a sad building melody that fills me, the fiddle speaks of sorrow and longing on the ocean. The tide is high and splashes against the cliff walls, covering the millions of shiny pebbles that usually stud this beach.

      "I have always found it strange that they play music even at the funeral of one who died at the hands of the Sidhe," a voice says to my left. I glance over to see Kean sitting beside me, "Music just attracts them, especially music like this."

I think about it for a moment and pull my knees up to my chest, "The music may attract them but it is one magic that is not only theirs, it is ours too, we are attracted to beautiful music as much as any Faerie."

...

      Kean and I fall into a comfortable pattern. Nearly every afternoon we ride on the cliffs and beach, for me it is becoming a crutch, I've never been so alone in my own house. Some days we don't speak, most days we only exchange a few words, rarely, we have conversations yet I see him more than my siblings lately and since he showed me the Dryad we talk more and more. I think I see more too, though I pretend I don't. Declan has been working extra hours lately to make up for Grady's death and Fiona always rides into Rell with him. As a result they've both been exhausted and go to bed early.

      Caleo has become accustom to Cinis's presence. The stallion likes to prance and preen in front of her but has never made an openly aggressive move; she is still watchful but not as nervous. And I have learned much about the Fey that I had never even thought to ask about before. Today we end up on the beach, several tourists who realized Kean is riding an Augisky watch from the cliffs. Kean and I work synchronized figure eights for a while just enjoying the sharp sea breeze that stings our cheeks and the quiet company.