John Lenahan - Prince of Hazel and Oak

The next day there was no mention of the night before, but we were certainly happier travellers. For years wise men have searched for the meaning of life; they should ask me because I found it – it’s dry clothes. Now that I was unmiserable in the saddle, I was free to admire the stark beauty of The Land in winter. Many of the trees in Tir na Nog are so lush that seeing any distance is impossible but now only spooky skeletal frameworks of trees broke my view to the horizon. It was beautiful but also unsettling and made me wish all the more for a roof and a fire.

There was no fire dancing that night. If someone had suggested it I would have been up for it but I guess too much naked fire dancing is a bit weird. After a trout supper, I finally got to tell my companions about the knife.

‘You are telling me those Brownies didn’t throw a rock at me,’ Brendan said. ‘They threw a knife? You should have let me shoot them.’

‘It was a sheathed knife and it wasn’t the Brownies.’

‘Then who threw it?’ Araf asked.

‘When we were in the room with the Oracle,’ I said, ‘do you remember a hooded figure in the shadows?’

‘To be honest, Conor,’ Brendan said, ‘I don’t remember much of my time in there. I got clocked pretty good.’

‘I saw him,’ Araf said.

‘Well, I got a quick glance at the person who threw the knife and he was wearing a black hood. I think it was the same guy.’

‘But why would someone throw a sheathed knife?’ Araf asked.

‘It was an envelope. I found this inside.’ I took out the message and handed it around.

‘What is a changeling?’ Brendan asked.

‘I don’t know. Araf?’

‘It’s a very old term. When I was young and growing up in the Heatherlands my nanny Breithe used to use the name changeling when she told stories about the Pookas. They are beings that can change into animal form at will.’

‘Yeah, I saw one do it once,’ I said. ‘OK then – where can I find a Pooka?’

‘That might prove difficult,’ Araf said. ‘No one has seen a Pooka since before the Battle of the Twins of Macha. Your father was about to set up an expedition to the Pinelands just before he became ill.’

‘Well, then it looks like I’ll have to go there. Where is it?’

‘I would have no idea how to get to the Pinelands,’ Araf said.

‘I bet my mother would know. She had a Pooka tutor.’

‘She might. She is the only one ever to be schooled by a Pooka. They are a very secretive race. How your grandfather Liam persuaded the Pookas to provide a teacher for his daughter I have no idea.’

‘Then let’s get back to the Hall of Knowledge and ask her. Araf, are you certain we are going the right way?’

‘Certain is a very strong word, Conor.’

‘Well, that fills me with confidence,’ Brendan said.

‘Hey, look on the bright side,’ I said, ‘we may get so lost we find the Pinelands by accident.’

Araf was being unduly modest. Without one wrong step we reached the edge of the Hazellands two days later. It was just starting to get dark when we reached the outer structures of the Hall of Knowledge. Just past the first outbuilding, two Imp sentries jumped from out of nowhere with their crossbows cocked. I was tired and cold and hungry but, worst of all, I smelled really bad.

‘The only way,’ I said with a large outlet of air, ‘you guys are going to stop me from getting a cup of willow tea is to shoot me.’

‘Stand down, Imps,’ is all Araf had to say and they lowered their weapons.

‘Prince Araf and Prince Conor,’ the sentry said, doing a bowing thing, ‘Lady Deirdre and Lady Nieve have instructed us to keep a watch out for you.’

‘Lady Nieve is here?’

‘Yes, sirs; she arrived yesterday.’

‘Go back to your posts.’

The soldiers snapped-to and double-timed it back to their hiding places.

We cantered into camp. I wanted to gallop – I really needed a bath.

The bath was obviously going to have to wait. Mom was waiting for us outside the library and she wasn’t in a hospitable mood. She rudely dismissed Araf and Brendan in a very queen-like fashion. I was jealous – I would have loved to have been dismissed.

‘Did you learn anything?’ she asked even before I entered the room. ‘Where is Spideog?’

‘Hi, Mom, I’m fine, knackered but fine – oh yes I’d love a cup,’ I said in one breath, as I kissed Mom.

‘Hello, Auntie,’ I said, planting a kiss on her cheek as I passed.

I collapsed on a sofa. The two of them stood in front of me like I was in trouble. I expected them to accuse me of nicking mead out of the pantry.

‘What?’

‘Oisin is getting worse,’ Nieve said as Mom looked away.

I didn’t jump up or shout – I just dropped my head in my hand and rubbed my eyes. Of course Dad was getting worse. Nothing, and I mean nothing, had gone right since I had gotten back to The Land – I should have expected this. I clamped my molars together to stop a flow of tears. ‘Fand said he could stay like that for ever.’

‘We thought he could. No one has ever frozen a person in Shadowmagic before.’

‘How bad is he?’

Mom came over and hugged me. ‘Not too bad,’ she said. ‘It is very slow. It took Fand this long to notice anything at all but it means that our time is not infinite. We need to find a cure.’

‘Have you found anything in the Shadowbooks since I’ve been away?’

Mom shook her head, an exhausted No. ‘What have you learned?’

I told Mom the whole story of our welcome at the Yew House, and the loss of Spideog. I left out the part about almost slipping off the edge of a cliff to our deaths so as not to unduly worry her. Finally I showed her the knife and the message that was within it.

Mom examined the knife in silence for a long time and then handed it to Nieve. Finally Mom straightened up and with the same queenly conviction that she had shown my companions earlier, said, ‘You leave for the Pinelands tomorrow.’

I instantly changed from a son to a loyal subject. I stood, said, ‘Yes, ma’am,’ then hugged her.

On the way out the door Nieve pointed out that I could use a bath.

Pop-head

When I first came to The Land the dreams completely freaked me out, which was understandable. I never had a dream until I came to Tir na Nog. When I found out that dreams often gave me glimpses into the future I thought they were cool, but since I have discovered that a lot of dreams are just jumbled images of stuff that’s rattling around in my noggin, they’re starting to really annoy me. That night I dreamt about the usual stuff: Dad encased in amber, Essa walking with the invisible man, and of course the perennial favourite of Fergal with a Banshee blade sticking out of his chest. But then there were others that I couldn’t begin to figure out. One was of a bear that then turned into a fox that then turned into an eagle. And then there was a rowboat that rowed itself to the shore where Cialtie was waiting for it. What the heck was that all about? The other problem is that sometimes the dreams get so intense that I wake up less rested than when I went to bed.

As if the dreams weren’t exhausting enough, Mom woke me before dawn. ‘Get up,’ she said, shaking me, ‘get up now if you want time for breakfast before you leave for the Pinelands.’

‘Oh no,’ I said, shaking the visions out of my head, ‘I haven’t had a bath yet.’

‘There is no time for that,’ she said, turning to go. ‘Your party is preparing to leave now.’

I got up with only my blanket wrapped around me and ran to the bath house just in time to see Brendan leaving damp and happy. He was still steaming.

‘Good morning, Conor,’ he said, rubbing his hair with a towel. ‘Man, I can’t tell you how good a hot bath feels.’