Martin & Marcella

Twenty-Eight

Finn the Bright understood all that had taken place, for between the worlds of the living and the dead, he had crossed paths with the souls of the young boy and girl, and their sacrifice had been made known to him. He himself had spoken their truths over the Cup of Fate and unlocked the bars hindering their final freedom. They'd been afraid all along to face the fear of what was constantly behind them--afraid that it was one of them whose death She foretold. But it was Finn's death the Bean Sidhe cried out for--a death brought on by the poison of one of his own warriors. It was for this reason She had been following the boy and girl so long, for they were to befriend him whose life She was dooming. Together, they had offered their own lives in place of his. Together, they'd joined as one. Such self-sacrifice was unheard of, but in their offerings' sincerity, the gods had been obliged to accept it.

The subsequent days did not pass easily for Joel, but they were far less difficult than everything else he had been through. He left for home the Sunday he found himself, just as had been planned with the headmaster. His father drove him out into the countryside, far away to the grand property of the Banquo Estate. There, the two of them--father and son--came to terms with all that had taken place, both recently and years ago. Mr. Banquo told, with dryness in his throat, of the pain he'd sworn never to let his son feel. He'd lied, Mr. Banquo said. He'd made Joel believe something incorrect in order to, in a way, take revenge on He who had stolen away his beloved wife. This was the most difficult truth of all to admit. It was several days before Mr. Banquo was willing to speak of it aloud. And he'd been so afraid, he explained--so afraid that if he'd verbally expressed his fears that the insanity would overtake his son just as it had Joel's mother. It was at the Father and Son Banquet that his worst fear had been realized. He'd been called not by Fr. Kavanaugh, but by Sir Blackwell, an old university friend of his. Sir Blackwell had noticed that Mr. Banquo had not responded to ascertain his place for the event, and it was he who had called Joel's father, wondering whether the invitation had missed its mark. Mr. Banquo had believed that the same madness which had consumed his wife was encroaching on his son, and so he had erupted in rage to cover his fears. When Joel disappeared, the man had been overcome with regret. Too long had he taken out his anger on his son. None of his faults had been easy to divulge, but after his discussion with Fr. Kavanaugh, Mr. Banquo was able to realize what must be done in order to set things right.

Days of snow-light and nights of star-fall merged with one another, so that the time Joel spent at home became one great time of healing. Peace that could be felt only in the wintry beauty of lush countryside flowed across the Banquo Estate. Darkness was lifted slowly from the rooms, the corrupt beasts that had lurked through the halls and whimpered in the shadows for years heaved their dying breaths and dispersed, whisking through the walls to join with the cold ice and skies beyond the human world. The impressions they'd left were unforgettable, but those who had brought them into their own hearts were willing to bear the burden of remembrance in order that they might never let themselves fall so far again.

There was too much light and beauty to let bitterness and hatred cramp the human heart. Too fast could a body become the costume for virulence. Too easily could a soul be sliced from its tethers and led astray. Joel and his father had been fortunate; this they both realized even deeper than they'd admit. Far too many people lost themselves to emptiness. They had been saved by the goodness of others. Never again would they allow themselves to become weapons of animosity for the depraved creatures that wandered the world in wretchedness.

The winter holidays arrived and passed, and in what seemed so little time, Joel was leaving his home to return to St. Raphael's. It was a sad parting that father and son withstood, but it was made happier by the knowledge that they had found one another again. When the boy did get back to school, the first person he went to see was Fr. Kavanaugh. Joel had called the school daily for news on the man's progress. Though the priest had come dangerously close to death, he had fully recovered all abilities, and he was able to return to St. Raphael's after two weeks of hospitalization. He would be able to preside over religious services, but he wouldn't return to teaching until the following year. That was the hardest part of recovering, he told Joel, adding that boredom was a terrible burden to bear.