RIDERS OF TUATHA by Bert McKenzie Copyright 2010
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any real person alive or dead is coincidental and unintentional.
CHAPTER III
Scott awakened feeling relaxed and refreshed. He turned his head to look directly into two burning green eyes looking back. He sat up realizing Robin was in a chair across the room, staring at him. "Good morning," Scott said. Robin continued to sit in silence, his gaze unwavering. "What's wrong?" Scott finally asked.
"I was just making a 'poltarin,'" came the reply.
"A what?" Scott asked as he got up.
"A strong mental image, much like the photographs of your world, only in here." Robin touched his heart. "You are carved into my soul and I need only close my eyes to look upon your form."
Scott crossed the room and sat on Robin's lap, draping his arm around the broad shoulders. "What's the matter? I can tell something's wrong," he said.
"The images in the pool . . ." Robin began.
"Rowana explained that," Scott interrupted him. "You won't understand it since you don't have dreams, but it was just a nightmare, a reflection of my fears."
"I have dreams," Robin corrected him. "It was your human blood calling to you. I fear you must return to your own world."
"I can't," came the instant reply. They both sat in silence and looked at each other.
"Why can you not?" Robin finally asked.
"Well, because . . ." Scott said as he got up and began to dress. He seemed to think that answer should be perfectly satisfactory.
"Why?" Robin persisted, following him into the bathroom. Scott knelt beside the bathing pool and splashed the icy water onto his face, and began washing. As he reached for a towel, Robin grabbed him firmly by the shoulders and turned him so they were face to face. "Why?"
"Because, you have said time and again that the borders are closed between our worlds. I wouldn't know how to get back. And then there's the matter of time. When I first came here I was told that time between our two worlds travels at different rates. If I went back now, I'd end up a hundred years after my own time."
"Is that all?" Robin asked.
"No. And because I love you, you 'idiot,'" he said reverting to English. The Tuathan language didn't have an equivalent insult.
"What is 'idiot?'" Robin asked. "I am not familiar with that word."
Scott blushed and then lied. "It's a complimentary term for a loved one."
"Then I think you are an 'idiot' too," Robin said. Scott laughed and embraced his lover. They kissed as they hugged, their bodies pressed firmly against each other. The passion rose between them, and they made love on the cold stones of the floor. As his orgasm approached, Scott felt that he was falling into a whirlpool, his very soul being sucked from his body until it was only an empty shell left behind while his true self merged with that of his lover. For an eternal moment of ecstacy they were one being. As the moment passed, they gradually fell apart and became the two separate lovers, lying in each other's arms on the cold floor.
"Robin, I love you," Scott said softly, stroking his lover's long golden curls. He pushed the hair back and traced the outline of the sharply pointed ear with his finger tip. The unusual shape of the ears was indigenous to the inhabitants of the fairy world.
"I love you as well," Robin said. "That is why I feel you must return to your world."
"I don't understand," Scott said as he sat up.
"If it is your blood that calls you, then you must return as surely as I had to come back here. Your friend Jennifer . . . if she is in trouble then you must help her. We both owe her that much."
Scott stood and pulled on the pastel green tunic he had selected to wear. "Jennifer is dead. She died of old age many years ago."
"Time is not so fixed as you would think," Robin said as he too got dressed. "Between our two worlds we cannot say how much time may pass. You could return to a world changed by a thousand generations, or you could return to the instant from which you originally departed."
"How do I know which?" Scott asked him.
"There is no way to tell," came the reply. "But since we both saw those images in your future, then we must assume you will return to a time before those deeds befall your friend. And you may be able to help her. Had she not helped us I might not be here today . . . and you certainly would not be in this land with me."
"But what of the other images?" Scott asked again. "What of the picture of you in that jail?"
"Thomas said that those were all images from your world. If I stay here, I cannot fulfill that image."
"And the picture of me in a burning building? Did Thomas have an answer for that?"
"No, but I have an answer," Robin told him. "I shall give you a homing crystal."
"What's that?" Scott asked.
"A way to return here. If you are in danger, just tap the crystal and it will bring you home."
"And do you have a crystal that can get me there in the first place?" Scott questioned.
"That may prove more difficult," Robin replied. "Let us converse with Elnar."
"Who's Elnar," Scott asked as Robin grabbed his arm and started from the room.
"Go away!" said the distinctly feminine voice behind the closed door.
"We have come to see Elnar," Robin replied in a firm voice.
"Elnar is dead. Go away!" came the response.
"Then who are you?" Robin asked.
"I am the keeper of these chambers."
"Why keep the chambers of a dead man?" Robin persisted.
"Go away or I shall call the guard!" the voice replied.
Robin glanced at Scott as if to say he had no other choice. Summoning the voice of command, Robin issued the order. "You will open this door now and admit us!"
They heard the bolt being drawn, and then the old wooden door creaked open. The face of a short, willowy thin girl with long black hair and deep brown eyes peered at them. "What seek you?" she asked defiantly.
"To see Elnar," Robin said as he led Scott into the entrance chamber. It was a small room cluttered with stacks of books, scrolls and paper. Each corner of the room held a pyramid of such written work, stacked haphazardly and in precarious danger of falling. What few pieces of furniture that existed held an odd array of bottles, glasses, goblets and other such breakable containers.
"I told you Elnar is dead," the young girl said, her brown eyes flashing in anger. She was very short, about five feet tall with a thin, boyish figure. Her long hair had an unkempt look about it, as if it had not seen a comb in a fortnight.
"And you are the chamber maid?" Robin asked. "When occurred Elnar's death?"
"Several months ago," the girl answered sullenly.
"Know you that the palace guard would have to be contacted on his death? These chambers would be sealed until a new Keeper of Magic was found. No such actions have been taken. It is not the Tuathan way to tell deceit," Robin chastised as he took a step toward her.
The girl reached behind her and produced a wicked looking dagger. She held it out in an attack stance as she took a step back, looking for all the world like a hunted animal at bay.
"Would you be so unsociable to our guests, daughter?"
Scott and Robin both turned to see a small, old man with a long grey beard standing in an open doorway behind them. He was almost completely swallowed up by the long, oversized, blue robe decorated with silver and gold embroidery. It looked to have been designed for a wizard of the highborn race, not the short five foot tall man who now tried to wear it. Using the distraction to her advantage the girl rushed on Robin, lifting the dagger. The two men turned in time to see her plunge it down and into his heart. Scott jumped forward to grab the girl, too late. Robin staggered back, a look of amazement etched on his face.
"You cannot behave so to royalty," the old man scolded. As the knife had touched Robin's chest it crushed harmlessly. The girl was holding the stems of broken daisies she had just used in her attack.
"Royalty?" she asked as she looked down at the transformed weapon, the flowers dropping their petals onto the floor.
"This is the high king, and this his consort," the man said, pulling up his overly long sleeves, as he introduced them. "Please forgive my daughter, Lord. She means well in trying to protect my privacy, but she is impetuous. We have very little contact with the rest of the palace, and I fear her solitude may have caused her to grow strange in the mind."
"Willingly I forgive the beautiful lady Caseldra, and I acclaim her loyalty in her protection of her noble progenitor," Robin said as he bowed before the girl.
She stared, wide eyed at the king in a moment of silence before again finding her tongue. Caseldra then blurted out a personal question. "Are you really a natural reversal as my father says?" Before anyone could recover from the surprise she turned quickly to address Scott. "And you couple with him just as the male and female animals?"
Scott rapidly blushed to a bright red. "Daughter, this is unseemly. These are not questions you ask when first meeting people," the older man admonished his child.
"But have you not told me all knowledge is good? And are not questioning and experimentation the twin paths to knowledge?" she asked her father.
"The girl is correct," Robin laughed as he smiled at the discomfort of Elnar at being caught by his own fatherly platitudes.
"You see, my father," the girl said, then smiled up at Robin. "The king agrees to my thirst for knowledge. Perhaps he will let me watch when next he and his consort couple so I may see how they accomplish it." This brought further embarrassment to Elnar and Scott as Robin roared with laughter.
"Go find us refreshment," the old man commanded his child and chased her out of the room. "Let us adjourn to my study and discuss this matter of a trip," he then said, leading his two guests into a yet more cluttered room.
"Know you why we have come?" Robin asked in surprise as the old man moved stacks of clutter in an attempt to find places for them to sit.
"Of course," Elnar replied, sitting in a high backed chair which he had just emptied. "What good is a Keeper of the Magic if he cannot use some of it now and then to see what is going on elsewhere in the palace."
"Well, then, is it possible . . ." Robin began.
"Of course," Elnar answered the question before it was phrased. "Traveling between worlds is really quite a simple matter. It is all just a question of time. You see, our land is generally at a higher frequency than that of the humans. I suspect that is why they try so hard to live fast, always trying to catch up with us. In the process, they burn themselves out and die in a hurry."
Caseldra entered carrying a silver tray. On the tray were odd shaped, mismatched goblets. She handed them around, each person accepting the offered drink. Scott looked down at his cup and was surprised. The beverage had a dark, murky look, like water drawn from a muddy river bottom. Scott smiled back at the girl and pretended to take a sip.
"All we need is but to slow you down a little bit. Your frequency will drop and you will fall out of our land and into the other world." Elnar seemed incredibly pleased with his solution.
"And to return . . . " Robin started to say.
"Oh, the homing crystal should work nicely to speed you back up," the magician beamed.
"Then when . . . "
"At midnight on the next full moon," came the answer. "That is tomorrow evening. I shall make preparations for the two of you to leave."
"No," Scott spoke up. "Robin can't go. He has to stay here."
"Oh, this may cause some unforseen problems," the magician said as he got up and began digging through the papers on an old desk in the corner.
"Why should . . . "
"You are emotionally bonded," the man said while he tossed scraps of paper over his shoulder, not finding the object of his search. "When an emotional bond is stretched across the barrier between two worlds, that can reek all sorts of havoc. You are disrupting the scheme of the universe." The man seemed to find a scroll which caught his attention. He began reading it, and seemed to forget his company.
"Then I must go with you," Robin said.
"You can't," Scott replied. "I think Thomas was right. If you stay here you'll be safe."
"Then it is all settled," Elnar said, looking from his reading. "I must go make the preparations. Be ready to travel at sundown tomorrow."
"Travel?" Robin asked.
"We must be at a deserted crossroad, an in-between place before midnight." He grabbed a couple of scrolls from the desk and hurried from the room.
"My father shall work now. You go," the girl said.
Scott and Robin left the magician's chambers and headed down the stairs and out to the wide courtyard beyond. They argued as they went. "Nothing is settled. I'm not sure that I even want to do this," Scott protested.
"We shall go together. We shall help young Jennifer avoid this danger in which she finds herself, and then we shall return before anything can befall us," Robin told him.
"Wrong. I'm not taking a chance with your life!" Scott said angrily.
"And what about the emotional bond?"
"I guess that's just the chance we do take."
"And what if I never see you again?" Robin asked.
"I'll return. I promise," Scott answered.
"If you can," Robin added ominously.
"Jen, are you okay?" the voice called from far away.
"What?" she asked.
"Are you okay?" Troy repeated. Jennifer had been unpacking a shipment of odds and ends that he had purchased in an estate sale. She was in the backroom of the small storefront curio shop. Troy began to wonder at the quiet and decided he had better check on her. Her round figure was bent over an open box, her curly, auburn hair falling forward, hiding her face as she looked down on the contents. Styrofoam packing peanuts were strewn about her on the floor. "What's up, girlfriend?" Troy asked as he approached her to see what she was so intently scrutinizing. He pushed his glasses up on his nose as he looked down at her.
"Oh, nothing," she said, flipping her hair back and trying to act nonchalant. "I was just going through this stuff you bought at that auction."
"Yeah, pretty neat. Isn't it?" he said, joining her and digging through the box. "Look at this nifty knife," he said, pulling out a small dagger. "It even looks like it has blood stains on it. It's probably just rust."
"Troy, I feel really uncomfortable about this stuff," she said.
"And look at this crystal ball!" he went on, picking up the object that had caught her attention. "Do you want me to tell your fortune?" Troy asked playfully.
"I really think we shouldn't put this out," Jennifer said as she took the globe from him and placed it back in the box. "Where did all these things come from anyway?"
"At the auction they said it all came from the estate of some old guy who lived on a farm south of town. He was a hermit, and I guess he really had a thing for magic from the look of all this cool junk," Troy said excitedly.
Jennifer felt really uncomfortable with the collection of odd and arcane magician's tools. They seemed to carry a sense of evil about them. "Let's just pack this all away," she said as she tried to close the flaps on the box.
"No," Troy protested. "We can make a fortune on this. You know how popular the occult is." He reached in and took out the crystal globe, and headed out for the front of the store, with Jennifer hurrying after him.
A short time later they closed the shop for the day. Troy hurried off to prepare for a date, leaving Jennifer alone to lock up. As she turned out the lights and drew the blinds, her eyes were caught by the oddly curved reflection in the glass ball sitting on a prominent shelf. The clear glass had trapped her earlier in the day when she was unpacking it, and now it seemed to call to her again. She walked over and picked it up trying to dispel the illusion. It felt quite heavy. Looking at the oddly distorted reflection of her own face by the dim light over the counter, she examined the globe. As she held it, her blue eyes caught by the curves and bright spots, it seemed to cloud over. At first she thought it was her breath fogging the glass, but the mist looked to be on the inside, and not on the surface. As she watched, a figure began to appear. It was Scott! Her friend had disappeared a year ago. The official report said he was killed in a freak accident. As soon as she realized at whom she was looking, the image faded.
"I was probably just projecting my imagination," she rationalized as she carefully put the crystal orb back on its stand, moving it to a less obvious place behind some other statuary. Turning the key in the door, she left the shop to return to her house.