John Lenahan - Prince of Hazel and Oak

With the pomp and circumstance done Queen Rhiannon announced, ‘We have been asleep too long – there is work to do.’ She instructed some councillors to house the rest of my party and ordered others to whip up some hazelnut potion to try to revive the herbivore Pookas that were inside the wall. The carnivores without, they wisely decided to leave until daylight.

Tuan led me to the guest wing. As we walked I patted him on the back. ‘You are a Pooka hero.’

He blushed and looked embarrassed that anyone would even think such a thing. If he had been a cowboy he would have said, ‘Aw shucks.’

‘Really,’ I said, ‘you were the only one that didn’t get lost and you’re the only Pooka anybody has ever heard of that can change into more than one animal. You’re like a super-Pooka. We should get you a tee-shirt with a big P painted on the front.’

‘You are very kind…’ Then Tuan’s ears began to stretch and fur-up. He had to turn away and compose himself to stop from transforming into some creature. ‘Sorry, Prince Conor, I sometimes change when I get emotional.’

‘Don’t worry about it and it’s just Conor, OK.’

‘You are very kind, Conor, but things are not as they seem.’

‘Oh yeah, so what am I missing?’

Tuan paused and I thought he was about to tell me. It was obviously something important but then he looked over his shoulder and said, ‘I am very busy. I must help round up some lost bunnies.’

‘Of course, Councillor Tuan,’ I said with a smile. He blushed again – this guy was cute.

‘Just Tuan, OK?’ he said.

I wandered around my chambers – they were pretty small for royal digs but the bed was soft and there was an en-suite bathroom. I walked out onto the balcony and let the cold air pink up my cheeks as I looked at the pond that a few hours earlier had been the Queen’s swimming pool.

‘I hope you do not mind this small room,’ Queen Rhiannon said, startling me, ‘but this room was a favourite of your grandfather’s. I thought you might like it too.’

‘I do,’ I said, bowing my head. ‘Thank you.’

Queen Rhiannon leaned against the banister next to me and looked out over her pond. ‘I once asked Liam why he liked this room better than the regal rooms and he said it was because here he had a better chance to see me naked.’ The Queen smiled. ‘He was very cheeky, your grandfather. You have the same twinkle in your eyes.’

‘That is very nice to hear, Your Highness.’

The cold and a clatter of teacups made us go back inside. A mousey little servant, that recently may have actually been a mouse, was twitchingly setting up tea, flatbread and dried fruits. When she spilled the Queen’s tea, Rhiannon placed her hand on the servant’s and said, with a reassuring smile, that she could go. My tea was served by a Queen.

‘I thank you again for the hazelnuts, Conor, but since you did not know of our plight before you arrived, I wonder, is there another reason for your visit?’

‘Oisin is dying.’

The Queen tilted her head like a confused puppy and said, ‘Dying?’

That’s when I realised that the concept of a slow death is quite alien to some of the people in The Land. People here either die fast, in battle or by falling out of a poplar tree – or they commit seafaring suicide by sailing out to sea in a boat – but since there is no sickness, a lingering illness followed by death just doesn’t happen. So I told her the long tale about how Dad reattached his hand in the Chamber of Runes and how that seems to be killing him and how Mom and Fand encased him in Shadowmagic.

Queen Rhiannon took it all in, wide-eyed. ‘For hundreds of years there is nothing new in The Land – I’m lost for a couple of months and all has changed. But I cannot imagine how I can help.’

‘I was hoping you could tell me where I can get some tughe tine blood.’

I don’t think I could have shocked her more if I had slapped her in the face. ‘Who told you of tughe tine?’

I explained about the manuscript that contained the story of the Grey Ones and their search for the blood of the tughe tine and about our strange encounter with the mountaintop Oracle. Finally I told her of the knife and the message that told me that the changelings would have answers.

Queen Rhiannon just sat there with her hand over her mouth and shook her head for a time before she finally said, ‘You certainly do not bring dull stories, Prince Conor. So Deirdre has developed a way to bring back lost manuscripts?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘She is a very clever witch that mother of yours.’ Queen Rhiannon thought again for a time then said, ‘The answers to the questions you ask are… not easily given. There were members of the council today who wanted you and your party dead for what you have deduced already. We Pookas think like animals. So many animals live so much in fear that they hide their injuries. They think that if another animal sees their vulnerabilities that they will use it against them. But sometimes we think like animals too much. We forget that there are creatures that might want to help. If not for you, Conor, and the Faeries – we all would be lost. Your grandfather was the only non-Pooka to know of our dependence on the fruit of the hazel. If more had known then maybe the Tree of Knowledge would have been better defended.’

‘Dahy is building a small regiment to protect it now.’

‘Dahy lives? That is good news. I think it is time we ended our isolation. Do you think he would accept some Pooka recruits?’

‘I know he would.’

‘Good. Now to answer your question, Conor, I shall tell you of things that even many of my own people do not know. But in the light of recent events maybe more should learn of our history.’ She dropped her head and took a deep breath collecting her thoughts.

‘The Pooka were the first new race. We believe that only the Faeries, Leprechauns and Brownies are older. In the beginning we were not changelings but we had an affinity with animals. We tended herds for the House of Duir and learned magic from Eriu. Using gold we learned how to speak to the animals.’

‘I’ve seen my mother do that by placing gold in her mouth.’

‘Yes, I authorised my daughter to teach her that. As I said, she is a very clever witch. But we Pooka did not stop there. Soon we were using magic to completely empathise with the animals. Cults began – the most prominent were the Marcach and the Fia.’

‘Horse and deer?’ I said, remembering my father teaching me names of animals in ancient Gaelic when I was a kid.

‘Yes. The cults submerged themselves completely in their chosen animals to the point where the first changes began. The Marcach became half horse themselves and the Fia became half deer half Pooka.’

‘Centaurs and Fauns,’ I said aloud.

‘Yes,’ Queen Rhiannon said as if being roused out of a daydream, ‘I have heard those words used by Pookas that came back from a Real World sojourn. But the half change was dangerous. Marcach and Fia began to lose themselves – they became horses and deer and no one could bring them back. A council was formed and the cults were banned, but they continued in secret.

‘One of our kind was named Moran. He was reported to be the wisest of all the Pooka. He studied every creature that was known on the land and in the air, then he left for the sea. There he s. S the fish and found the aquatic mind so different to our own that he could safely change into a half fish and not lose his Pooka identity.’

‘Wait a minute. Are you talking about mermaids? Like topless girls with fish bottoms?’

It was only a matter of time before Queen Rhiannon gave me the dirty look that every other woman I had known had given me. ‘Mertain is what he called them but yes, mermaid is the Real World name. At about the same time another of my ancestors travelled to the Hazellands. Before the Hall of Knowledge existed, wise men and women would gather at the great hazel tree and share ideas. My ancestor tried a hazelnut and it instilled him with such self-knowledge that he attempted a complete change into an animal and was able to return to his Pooka self. He arrived back at the Pinelands at almost the same time Moran did. Both of them drew supporters, each professing the virtues of their discoveries. Soon most were following my ancestor, changing into all manner of beasts using hazel. Moran warned that dependence on hazelnuts was dangerous but he was unheeded. I have not thought of him in a very long time but I must now admit that he may have been right.’