The original version of this chapter is actually trapped on my old laptop, apparently when I moved this story over I missed it. So I rewrote it but I'm completely happy with how it turned out. Anyway, we're really starting to build up to the climax :)
Kean
I rub my eyes, they are starting to blur from staring at the computer screen for so long but I am almost done with the riding schedules for the next two weeks, the breeding schedule for the next month and arranging transport for several of the sold horses. A frantic knocking at my door captures my attention, with a sigh I heave myself up and open it. At the sight of Ryley's bloody hands my mind jumps to Bedlam, however his face doesn't look as distraught as it did that day, in fact he looks more puzzled than anything else.
"There's – there's something odd in the courtyard that you might want to see," he tells me his brow furrowed.
I follow him out to the court yard to find the mangled body of a sheep in the center of the courtyard, wool turned pink from the blood seeping out of it and onto the cobbles. Its tag is still attached to its ear, the words Rowan Farm 161 is still legible. I know at once why this carcass is here and who put it here it is a message for me and I understand it clearly though it chills my blood.
Most of the animal has been torn away, I pull my sweatshirt over my head and wrap what is left of the sheep in it. Lifting the animal I bring it to my office to make a phone call.
Declan picks up on the third ring, "MacFarlane's Grocery Declan speaking."
"Hey, this is Kean Donoghue," I told him unsure of how to tell him what had happened.
"Kean, what can I do for you?" he asks before his voice takes on a tone of concern, "Is Breena okay? Is something wrong?"
"Breena is fine," I assure him wincing slightly, it isn't a lie exactly, but it's not really the truth either, "but we do have a small problem, I found one of your sheep on Allard's property," I tell him.
"Oh, that's weird, I can swing by after work and pick it up," he offered.
My face falls into my hand, "I'm not really sure if you want it back, it's kind of in," I pause searching for a word, "pieces."
"Oh," he managed, "does it still have a tag? What number is it?"
"161," I tell him, "it looks like one of the Fey got it.
"Damn, one of the yearlings, would you mind burying it there? I don't want to bring it home dead, Fiona would lose her mind," he says.
"Yeah, no problem, I just wanted to let you know what happened." He thanks me again and hangs up leaving me with half a dead sheep on my desk soaking my sweatshirt with blood. I drop into my chair heavily and let my head fall into my hands with a small groan. A throat clearing alerts me to the fact that Dunkin has entered my office regardless of my locked door.
"Bad day?" he asks leaning against a shelf of Fey charms which strikes me as rather ironic.
I sigh, "When isn't it a bad day." I straighten up, roll my shoulders - the injury is healing but it's still stiff and sore - I stand and glance at the bloody bundle on my desk. If I don't bury it no one will so I pick up the bundle and head for the door ignoring Dunkin who follows me out the door. I grab a shovel and head for the back paddocks, even though I cannot hear him I can sense Dunkin behind me, I can feel the power rippling off him.
I stop when I find a good spot and set the cat on the ground, I figure I'll just leave it wrapped in my sweatshirt since I'll never be able to get that much blood out of the grey fabric. I start to dig, but Dunkin puts his hand on the handle of the shovel and when I blink there is a hole in the ground. There is a pile of dirt stacked neatly to my left.
I place the sheep in the hole feeling guilty, in a way it is my fault that it is dead. Dunkin drops the dirt over the body and smooths it over, "What does it mean?" he asks studying me.
"It means things are about to get messy," I tell him shouldering the shovel and turning back toward the barn with a knot in my stomach.
The shavings sopped up most of the blood but there is still rusty splotches staining the stones.
Breena
Over the next week Dunkin and Scottie become my companions, Fiona takes to leaving Scottie at the house when she leaves for the Iron Bells so I began bringing him with me once Caleo is sound to ride. Dunkin begins meeting me on the cliffs to ride with one of Allard's mounts, a stocky bay gelding with a good mind; Cisco. It is somewhat easier riding with two land equines, we can ride side by side all over the island without fear, though we stay away from the surf because the Aughisky and the Formorians have been particularly active. When he finds out how little musical exposure I've had he gives me a few CDs that are new to me at least.
When I am with Dunkin the Fey seem to keep away but the rest of the days I see them in increasing numbers with increasing clarity. They hide in the grass and around corners when I do the barn chores, they hide my tools and spook the livestock, one of the yearling ewes has even gone missing. The nights are worse though, the singing is constant and keeps me up, I've taken to playing the CDs Dunkin gave me to try to drown them out.
Scottie is running circles at my feet yipping excited for our ride, he trips me up while I tack Caleo. He runs ahead of us on the dirt road chasing rabbits and stray Fey. The wind bites at my cheeks and blows my hair and though my sweater is warm I've finally had to break out my jacket.
Dunkin and Cisco are already at the cliffs and I am greeted with an enthusiastic wave. Riding with Dunkin is very different from riding with Kean; rides with Kean were quiet and peaceful and whenever we did talk there was something important being said. With Dunkin the rides are full of laughter and conversation and music. He loves to sing as we ride, I don't know most of the songs, some of them are contemporary - songs from the mainland and all over the world - others are as old as the cliffs under our horses' hooves. I was wary when he first began to sing - worried it would attract unwanted attention - but he assured me that we would be fine and we were, nothing ever bothers us on our rides.
Today because we have two regular horses we decide to ride east to Rell. We have made a habit of stopping at the Fat Cat now an then, one of us holds the horses while the other one runs in to order then we find a nice place for a picnic. Dunkin tells me a story about one of his cousins back home while we ride and Scottie follows behind us sniffing at bushes and boulders before darting off ahead to startle a bunch of crows. They explode into the sky a cawing, black mass of indignation. Caleo and Cisco both balk and shy wide eyed for a moment snorting before tentatively starting forward again.
By the time we get to Rell my stomach hurts from laughing at Dunkin's anecdotes and my eyes are watering. The streets are teeming with people but the tourists tend to move right out of the way for us staring with a mixture of awe and fascination as we pass, it makes me wonder if people ever ride horses through town in other parts of the world. When we get to the bakery Dunkin slips down from Cisco's back and tosses me the reins so he can go in and order. He slips through the glass doors shutting them behind him before Scottie can tag along after him. The dog sits dejectedly in front of the door whimpering.
I rub my free hand over my eyes, when I look up again I almost fall off Caleo. Perched on Cisco's back is a Feeorin, head cocked watching me closely with its massive solid green eyes. She is the one with the violin from under my porch, her long black hair falls in a curtain around her shoulders and her mouth is twisted into a smile. "Hello again," she chirps.
"Hello," I say cautiously hoping that no one is looking.
She cants her head to the other side, "You may call me Nell."
She looks at me expectantly, I freeze I know that I can't give her my real name and I know that Nell is probably not her real name. "Brin," I tell her, "you can call me Brin."
Nell grins wider, "Brin, Brin, Brin, Brin," she trills, "You have big friends, very big." I am not sure what she means exactly, everybody must seem big to her considering she is maybe two and a half feet tall. "But when big friends fall they crush those closest to them. You could come dance with me," she suggests, "then you would not be crushed, I will be kind."
Goose bumps raise on my arms under my coat but before I am able to form a response her eyes grow impossibly wider and the corners of her mouth droop in a frown, "I must go now, but if you want to avoid being crushed follow the music," and then she disappears with a pop in a small flash of light.
A hand lands on my right elbow making me yelp and turn fast enough to give myself whiplash. It is Dunkin holding three white bakery bags and a concerned look on his face, "Are you alright?"
I nod, "Yeah just tired," I tell him and it's not a lie, I haven't slept well in weeks. The music in the fields keeps me up until all hours of the night; Dunkin's CDs help but they can't completely damper the pull of the music.
His eyes narrow like he doesn't quite believe me but he just nods and walks around to take Cisco from me. Scottie recognizes the white bags and leaps around Dunkin's feet, he ignores the dog and swings up into the saddle, he urges Cisco forward, Caleo and I follow. We stop just outside of Rell under an old walnut tree and dismount. I try to take my bag from Dunkin but he doesn't let go he just looks at my face for a moment before asking, "What did she say to you?"
My jaw clenches and my eyes pop wide, I didn't think Dunkin could see the Fey through their glamour. "What are you talking about?" I ask trying to play it off.
He isn't having it though, "You know exactly what I'm talking about."
I wrinkle my nose and clear my throat, "Ah, something about getting crushed when big friends fall. But she's like two feet tall so she must have been nearly crushed a few times," I laugh trying to lighten the mood but for once Dunkin doesn't laugh with me.
He just nods and lets me take my bag. His face is deep in thought as he tosses Scottie a treat and opens his own bag, he munches silently and stares off towards the ocean. His silence isn't comforting like Kean's is, it is unnerving.
I nibble on the edges of my pastry but my stomach curls. This is the same island I've always lived on but lately it has seemed like an exotic land full of new dangers and I can't keep up.
"What time is it?" Dunkin askes finally breaking the quiet.
I check my watch, "A little passed noon."
His eyes shoot wide, "I'm going to be late," he says, "do you mind if I get going?"
I shake my head, "If you're already going to be late I don't want to make it worse," I tell him tossing the rest of my pastry to Scottie who scoffs it down in seconds.
He smiles and tightens his girth, "Sorry to have to rush off," he tells me and mounts, "I'll see you tomorrow."
"I'll see you then," I tell him with a wave and watch him start off to the south toward's Allard's. I turn to Caleo who is standing to my right her ears perked watching the other horse canter off over the low hills, "I guess we should get going too," I tell her and Scottie, I stand and brush myself off.