Caroline Spector - Worlds Without End

The water began to bubble and boil. Steam rose from the surface and soon blanketed the entire room. From the water rose a boat. It was made of wood and gold. A throne was affixed in the center of the deck. Sitting in it was the spirit who liked to be known as Finvarra.

He was as I remembered, perhaps even larger than before. The power of the Awakening had seeped into his veins as well as mine.

The boat moved toward the shore where I stood, cutting smoothly through the water, leaving only the 72

slightest wake to mar the perfect sheen. I could see no oarsmen or sails, but that is the way of faerie. It stopped about a meter from shore and rested there. "Greetings, Finvarra," I said. "You do me a great honor."

He laughed. It was harsh and grating, and yet it sounded like music to me.

"Aina," he said. "Sweet mother. How may I help?"

"I would find the Seelie Court, Finvarra," I re- plied. "Though to hear some tell it, I am no longer considered a power in Tir na nOg."

"Come down from there, Caimbeui," Finvarra said. "You make me nervous lurking about."

I heard Caimbeui curse as he slipped and slid his way toward us.

"You haven't answered my question," I said. "Where is the Seelie Court?"

Finvarra leaned back on his throne and studied me. I returned the favor. His gray eyes were as piercing as ever and the sharp planes of his face were more cruel than kind. A thin gold circlet rested on his brow. Long thin hands rested on bony knees. His clothing, made of leaves and bark and animal pelts, reminded me of what we'd worn in Blood Wood all those centuries ago.

Then I noticed that lying at his feet was a young woman. She was dressed in a tight purple dress with thigh-high black patent leather boots. Part of her head was shaved so the datajack she'd had im- planted could be easily accessed. She seemed to be asleep.

"Up to your old tricks again," I said. " "This is nothing," he said. "A harmless amusement." m "What would Oonagh say?" I knew I had to play along.

"What she doesn't know… Besides, this is all rather off the point. You wish to know where the Seelie Court is currently residing."

"Yes." "Perhaps they don't wish to be found." ' "No. I suspect they don't. And I suspect I know why they don't want to hear from me."

Finvarra smiled at me. His teeth were yellow and, very long. "Now we're getting somewhere," he said. "Perhaps I can help you. If you are willing to do something for me." "And what might that be?" I asked. "A test," he replied. "A simple challenge of your will. My subjects will be more than happy to admin-, ister it. If you succeed, we take you to the Court. If you fail, well, that will be your lookout, won't it?" "And who decides whether I win or lose?" J "Why that, dear mother, you will have to figure «out for yourself."

With that, the boat sped away from me. It left u barely a ripple in the water and the mist closed m around it, hiding it from my sight. I stepped forward, the edge of the lake touching my toes. What now? I wondered» "Well, that was helpful," said Caimbeul. I spun about, ready to give him a cutting remark when behind me something burst forth from the water and grabbed me.

In a flash I was being pulled down into the black- ness. The water was freezing and I hadn't caught a breath. I fought against the urge to inhale. My eyes were open, but I couldn't see much. I looked down and saw that I was being held by a each-uisge. My legs were helplessly stuck to its chest and forelegs. Its clawed hands were clasped about my thighs. The head was that of a horse with razor-sharp teeth.

It would pull me down into the water until I drowned and then feast upon my flesh, except for my liver, which it would no doubt spit up at Caimbeul's feet. It was a prospect I didn't relish.

I let myself go limp, playing dead, hoping this would slow its descent. It did. Then I jerked my arms apart and uttered the words. Between my hands a whirling of water started. It began to glow and lit the each-uisge with blue light. The water spun faster and faster until it narrowed into a fine, laser-like point. I pointed it downward at the each-uisge's head. There was the muffled sound of a shriek, and then the creature's head disappeared. Its claws went slack on my thighs, but I was still stuck to its chest.

My lungs were burning and spots floated before my eyes. The dead weight of the each-uisge was pulling me down. I had a panicky moment as I started to inhale some water. With every ounce of power left in my arms, I swam up to the surface. Just as I thought I would never reach it, I broke through. The air hurt as I gasped. I floundered for a moment before Caimbeui grabbed me by my collar and pulled me from the water.

He laid me, none too gently, on the stony bank. I coughed up water and hacked out some bile. My legs felt heavy, and I realized the each-uisge was still stuck to them.

"Cut it off," I said.

"That won't work. You'll have pieces of it stuck to your pants forever."

"Well, it's better than dragging the whole thing along with me," I said, coughing up more water.

"Take off your pants," he said.

"Oh, fragging hell," I said. I unbuttoned my jeans and skinned them off. It took a while between the wet and the each-uisge.

"And so that was the test?" he asked.

"N-n-no," I stammered. My teeth were chattering and gooseflesh had broken out over my body. "T-t- that was a warning. They're serious about the test."

"Well," he said, looking chagrined that he hadn't helped, "we'd better get you out of those wet things."

He wrapped his arms around me. I let myself lean against him and take in his warmth and scent. It was good to be there, if only for a moment.

She can't move. Legs and arms like lead. But she hears… things.

Things rustling beyond her line of sight. Things with evil intentions.

"What next?" Caimbeui asked.

I was sitting in the back seat of the car pulling dry clothes on. My coat and boots were ruined, so I wadded them up in a towel I'd taken from the hotel. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't have in- dulged in that sort of petty larceny, but these weren't normal times.

Caimbeui was driving. We were heading south- west away from The Bun-en. I pulled a heavy gray sweater over my head, then slid on black jeans. Sneakers were next, after which I climbed over the front seat to the passenger side.

"Better?" he asked.

"Drier, at least," I replied. "But that brackish smell is going to stay with me for a while."

"Not just you."

"My apologies," I said. "Next time a each-uisge decides to have me for a snack I'll be sure to tell it not to get you wet at the same time."

"I'd appreciate that," he replied.

"De nada, babycakes."

"You know I hate it when you call me

babycakes."

"Like I said, 'Life is…' " "I know. I know."

We stopped in a small town south of The Burren for food. It was fast approaching dusk and I wanted to be out in the countryside as soon as possible. The air was tanged with sea salt and humidity. Though it wasn't that cold, the damp seemed to seep into my bones, making them ache.

Leaving the car at the restaurant where we'd eaten, we walked to the edge of the town. The road out of town was little more than dirt and cobble- stones. It had played hell on the suspension of the rental. I imagined Caimbeui was making a running ledger in his head of all the expenses of the trip. When this penurious streak had come on him I didn't know.

"Look," he said, grabbing my arm and pointing. Off to one side of the road was a grove of trees. It was shaded purple and gray in the twilight. A fog had rolled in from the sea and made everything look fuzzy and insubstantial. Surrounding the grove were a series of tiny flickering lights that bobbed and floated three meters above the ground.