The Geis: Awakening Part 12

Mom followed my eyes, "We might as well stay and watch for a while. I saw some vendors down the hall. Let's go see if there's something to eat."

I sat on the bleachers between Mom and Zoey. All around us, dancers were stretching and getting ready to perform. I zipped up my jacket in an attempt to hide my beginner costume from curious eyes.

The crowd rose for the National Anthem, followed by a solo sung in Gaelic that was announced as the Irish National Anthem. The crowd was a blur of faces and sparkling sequins. The energy flowing from the crowd pulsed like a shot of adrenaline in my veins. I saw Emily surrounded by a group of girls who wore the exact same dress. That must be the "team" she had been talking about.

I felt like I did when I was a kid and my mom wouldn't buy me a sucker. It wasn't fair. I wanted to complain, to tell someone that I could dance if I wanted to. Mom kept sneaking glances at me. I knew she wanted to talk about the feis, but I didn't know what to say.

My mind raced with questions for Rourke. Would he know what it meant to be a certified teacher? Could Rourke be a certified teacher? I thought of the phone number Ms. Slannon had given me, determined to call her friend again. Maybe she would know.

The soloist continued her song in Gaelic. In the bleachers, dancers sat next to their families, putting on last-minute lipstick and securing their wigs with pins. My eyes stopped when I saw a familiar face. Lucas sat near the front, a glazed expression on his face. A shot of excitement raced through me, and I thought about going down to sit by him, until I saw who sat next to him. Taminy stretched next to her mother, whose hair looked like she had spent the morning in the salon. Taminy met my eye and raised her chin.

The song ended and a polite applause filled the gymnasium.

A woman in a medieval costume stood by the door, clapping for the soloist. She wore a green dress of velvet that draped to her ankles, interrupted by a golden cord that accentuated her small waist. A cape of drab grey covered her dress. I wondered if she had dressed up for the feis, like the die-hards at renaissance fairs.

The woman ran her fingers through white-blonde hair that hung in sheets around her face, hiding the delicate nose and striking eyes that scanned the crowd. A jolt of recognition hit me. Mrs. Saddlebury.

Mrs. Saddlebury's eyes met and held mine. Her fingers stopped moving, and she clutched the strands of hair she had been combing. The room around us faded. Intensity drew me to her, as if she had tightened a rope around my chest to reel me in.

Her eyes widened before she continued to search the crowd, pulling through the knots in her hair. An icy sensation crept up the back of my neck. I looked down to where tiny goose b.u.mps had raised the hair on my arms. Mrs. Saddlebury spun around in the doorway, her long skirt following her out into the hall.

Shaking, I turned to my mom. "Let's go."

"They are about to start. Look, the girls are lining up."

A violinist played what I now recognized as a reel. Dancers lined up across the stage. I found Taminy's pink sparkle dress. Lucas still sat next to Taminy's mother, playing a game on his phone.

"I want to go right now."

Mom searched my face, and nodded. She turned to gather Zoey, but she wasn't there.

"Where did that child go?" Mom said. "I can't even take my eyes off of her for a moment."

"She probably went to the bathroom again," I said. "I'll go check."

Unease carved a pit in my stomach. I dodged the spectators who gathered around the door, and darted into the hall.

A quick check of the bathroom increased my anxiety. Zoey wasn't there.

When I came out of the bathroom, a flash of green caught my eye. I whipped around to see Mrs. Saddlebury pulling Zoey toward the double doors that led outside. Zoey was straining against the woman, and when she saw me, she called out. People walking past watched with little interest what must look to them like a temper tantrum.

"Zoey!"

Adrenaline pushed me forward. I sprinted down the hall. The feeling of dread knotted and contorted in my stomach.

"Stop! Let go of her," I yelled.

Some dancers walking past me looked to where Mrs. Saddlebury struggled to get Zoey out the door. Zoey was crying, and Mrs. Saddlebury had her eyes trained on me, cold and devious.

"That's my sister, she's taking my sister away." I looked around for help.

The group of dancers hesitated, not knowing what to do, but Marilyn from the front desk rushed over. Mrs. Saddlebury stopped at the door.

I covered the distance to them. Mrs. Saddlebury relaxed her hold on Zoey, but didn't let go. I pulled Zoey to me, wrapping my arms protectively around her. Zoey clung to me and we faced Mrs. Saddlebury.

"Is there something wrong?" Marilyn asked.

I took a shaky breath. "This woman tried to take my sister out of the school."

Marilyn started to answer, but Mrs. Saddlebury knelt in front of Zoey and took her hand. I tried to pull Zoey away, but she put her small hand out and looked at Mrs. Saddlebury with wide eyes.

"Is this your sister, honey?" Zoey nodded. Mrs. Saddlebury stood and looked at me, her gaze intense. "It's nice to see you again, McKayla."

Her face was full of concern, and I wondered if I had made a mistake. "Zoey lost her way when she went to the restroom. We were going to look outside and see if we could find her mother."

"Zoey, there you are." Mom came down the hall behind us, taking Zoey by the hand. "I'm glad you found her, McKayla."

"That's settled then." Marilyn seemed pleased to have the incident taken care of. "Thank you for your help," she told Mrs. Saddlebury. She resumed her position at the registration table and lifted a finger toward me. "You should think carefully before accusing others who are trying to help."

I swallowed, curling my arms around my stomach.

Mom scrunched her nose as if she smelled something unpleasant. She looked from Marilyn to me. "What happened?"

Accusing Mrs. Saddlebury of taking Zoey only made me look ridiculous.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Saddlebury," I said. "Thank you for helping Zoey." I needed to talk to Aunt Avril about this, right away.

Mrs. Saddlebury gave me a sympathetic look and put her hand on my shoulder. I shrank from her touch. "No harm done," she said.

Leaves blew across the sidewalk and gathered in the gutters of the parking lot. Zoey tried to crunch each one she pa.s.sed, but Mom had her hand in a vise.

"I don't like that old lady." Zoey pouted.

"Zoey, you can't wander off like that," Mom held tightly to Zoey's hand.

Even in the cool weather, a wave of heat washed over me. I looked back at the school. Mrs. Saddlebury stood inside the door. She looked beautiful in the costume, her face a peaceful mask that hid the emotions that rolled across the parking lot to me.

I flinched at the anger that clawed its way into my own ruffled emotions. Combined with the embarra.s.sment of not being able to dance and the panic of losing Zoey, the anger bubbled up inside my chest.

Movement caught my eye, and I noticed something I hadn't seen before. Behind Mrs. Saddlebury crouched Rourke's lizard, his blue tail coiling out behind him.

"Are you coming, McKayla?" Mom's words pulled me away from the scene. When I looked back, the entryway was empty.

It was an hour before dawn when Rourke hiked the rough trail heading up to the Intermittent Spring. It was slow going, and he had to stop frequently to let the buildup of pain in his leg subside. It gave him time to gaze at the stars and reconsider what he was about to do.

Somewhere out there in the black night sky was the world he called home. Over the centuries he had looked to the heavens and imagined that one of the lights he saw emanated from the sun that warmed Tir na nog. But if he ever found the right one, he didn't know it by the way he felt. He had been gone far too long.

A cold breeze blew past Rourke, whistling as it rose up the canyon wall. In the darkness, tall pines rose on either side of the mountain height. They looked like people, watching and waiting for the scene that would play out here.

He looked down at Ansul, who rarely left his side these days. It had been too long since he had heard his friend's voice and seen his true stature. The lizard flicked his tongue out to taste the early morning air. Rourke knew the awesome power that was once possessed by his friend and protector, but after so many years, he wondered if the power was still there. Would it be enough to protect him in the end?

As Rourke reached the steep incline leading up to the mouth of the spring, he was forced to put more weight on his bad leg to keep from falling. Layer upon layer of pain shot through his leg until it formed a prison of anguish and fury. No wound or disease caused the pain Rourke felt. It was the result of the same powerful magic that bound him to this earth. It was the price Rourke had once paid to save a life.

But Rourke pressed on, having learned long ago that he could endure such pain if the reason for doing so was strong enough.

As Rourke reached the top, the large stream of water flowing from the spring diminished. He stood, using his cane for support as he waited for the water to subside and take his pain with it.

The lizard drank from the clear, pure water, and then flicked his tongue out at the early dawn air. He tensed, taking a defensive posture. Something was coming through the spring.

As the last trickle of water left the spring, all went quiet. The subtle breeze flowing through the pine needles and aspen leaves only amplified the feeling that the sounds of the forest were fleeing some monstrous evil that would immerse the world in silence forever.

A dark shadow crept from the spring's opening in the mountain. Rourke covered his mouth and nose to block out the cloying scent of rotten fruit that drifted toward him.

Just feet from where Rourke stood, the shadow condensed into something more substantial. For a split second, Rourke saw an impossibly cruel face emerge from the pure darkness. It was the face Rourke saw in his nightmares-the face of Cliona, the one who had haunted his steps for centuries and taken from him so many of those he loved.

As the tendrils of darkness swirled and congealed around the dark figure, a light ignited within it and spread like wild fire until Rourke was forced to s.h.i.+eld his eyes. The flames receded, leaving the ghost-like form of a young woman, ethereal and captivating.

The wraith gathered her flowing robes around her slight frame. Everything about her was delicate, from the small jewel that pierced her right nostril, to the long white locks of hair that flowed around her face and down her back. Cliona appeared to glow in the starlight.

Rourke found it hard to keep his guard up while beholding such an exquisite creature. He gestured to his throat, expressing his desire to speak. Cliona waved her hand. The effortless gesture allowed sound to escape his throat.

"Your last victim was very beautiful, Cliona," Rourke said in mock greeting. He hated that she had the power to give him speech. But it felt good, like stretching a muscle that lay dormant for too long.

"She certainly had a unique quality about her." Cliona's voice was as seductive as her appearance. "I prefer her younger form, before it became lined with an overburden of cares." Cliona glanced at the lizard. "To what do I owe this welcoming party? For centuries I have tormented you and taken the ones you loved. And yet you-and your pet-have never taken the time to welcome me into this world."

"I do not welcome your coming, Cliona. I would return all that you have done to me and more, if it would not canker my soul and end up being an exercise in futility."

"Oh come now, my dear, dear, Rourke," Cliona's voice was soft as silk. "Don't tell me you have grown bitter?" Cliona circled Rourke, trailing her delicate fingers along his chest and back. Ansul hissed in disapproval. "I've been doing you a favor."

"A favor?" Rourke asked, incredulous.

"Why yes, Rourke. Every time I return to Tir na nog, I come back to find that you have formed relations.h.i.+ps. Friends and family are a burden to one such as you." She paused when she reached his chest again. Her fingernails elongated into razor-sharp claws. "What? Did you think I enjoyed killing those that would give you reason to grow comfortable here?"

"I know you enjoy it, Cliona." Rourke had watched her work too many times to think otherwise. "You live to destroy those that might have the happiness that was denied to you."

Cliona's smile grew wicked. She shrugged.

"Cliona, I've come here to offer you a bargain."

Cliona laughed. "It amuses me that you think you have anything that I want."

Rourke felt the lizard stiffen at his side. He stepped toward Cliona. "I've had centuries to stew about the nature of the curse that brought me here. I was foolish to make such a geis and expect that Saoirse would honor her side of the deal."

"The geis is not for mortals to honor or dishonor, it simply is," Cliona snapped.

"So you say," Rourke said. "But Arbitors like yourself are tasked with making sure the geis is balanced and not undermined."

"How little you know." Cliona lowered her head, looking at him through frosty lashes.

"When the people of Tir na nog find out that you came here to manipulate the terms of the geis for your own purposes, it will shake their faith in the Arbitors' neutrality. The secret of Tir na nog will be compromised, and the council of Arbitors will turn against you."

"What a wonderful imagination you have, Rourke. You are operating under the a.s.sumption that I am going to let you return to Tir na nog. When the geis allows you to return, you will be without its protection." Cliona smiled. "I'm afraid you won't make the journey."

"Think what you will, Cliona. I will return to Tir na nog when the time comes, and if, for whatever reason, I don't, Ansul will carry the message to the council." Rourke gestured to the lizard at his side. "But if you bring no harm to the girl and her family, I will forever hold my peace about what I have witnessed here."

Cliona's eyes narrowed and she screwed her lips together, making her otherwise beautiful face look feral and dangerous. "Why would I give you a favor? You, who are as helpless and frail as the humans who fill this world?"

"You underestimate them, as you do me."

"What you offer to give me, I can freely take. So live in fear, Rourke. And know that when you mourn the loss of your newfound pupil and her family, that it is I who took them from you."

"Saoirse will not bring Keevan back to you, Cliona," Rourke said with all the sadness and empathy he could muster.

Cliona growled. With a simple gesture, she caused Rourke's throat to seize again. "You are not worthy to speak his name. Mark my words, Rourke. The day the geis awakens and you attempt the return home, you will find me blocking your way. Except this time, the geis won't stop me from finis.h.i.+ng what I've started."

Rourke tried to speak again, but his throat felt pinched, and no sound came from his lips. You do what you think you must, Rourke signed.

"I'm afraid you are wasting your time." Cliona stepped around the lizard and headed down the mountain pa.s.s. "You won't be returning home anytime soon."

I'll do what I must, Rourke signed. But Cliona didn't look back.

I'd never been to a movie theater that only had two screens. Lucas laughed when I pointed it out, telling me that this new theater was state-of-the-art, unlike the old theater in town that used to show new movies a month after they were released.

The movie was slow, but I didn't care. I couldn't concentrate on the plot with Lucas sitting close enough to touch. I was hyper-aware of his nearness, and halfway through the movie, Lucas took the hand I had strategically placed on my thigh.

The nerve endings in my skin flared, setting my heart to racing. I couldn't focus on the movie, but I wished the second-rate film would never end so I could keep my hand in his as long as I could. When the movie was over, Lucas kept ahold of my hand. We walked out to the parking lot.

Lucas slowed as we neared his pick-up. "Do you want to go and get something to eat?"

"Are you still hungry?" I asked. Lucas had bought a large popcorn and drinks for each of us. When I had only made a dent in the popcorn, Lucas had finished off the rest.

He laughed, "The only time I'm not hungry is when I'm eating. Let's go to the Red Baron."

The drive-in restaurant was only a few blocks away, so we decided to walk, with me practically skipping to keep up with the stride of Lucas's long legs. We pa.s.sed a few stores, their closed signs a reminder of how early the town settled down for the night.

I snuck a look at Lucas. He looked straight ahead, his other hand tucked into the pocket of his canvas jacket. Was it possible that he could be so calm when my insides were jumping around? The evening was flying by-I willed it to slow down.

"Your dad was at my house the other day," Lucas said.

"Really?"

"He was meeting with my dad about a new ski resort that might go in."

I remembered hearing Dad say something about a land appraisal for a resort. "I didn't know that they were in business together."

"Your dad wanted to know if we hang out."

"What did you say?" The thought of Dad and Lucas having a conversation about me made my stomach do a flip.