John Lenahan - Prince of Hazel and Oak

The two party-poopers were making it difficult for me to reach that uninhibited mindless state that makes naked fire dancing so much fun. Every time I passed by the moping Brendan or the stern but shocked Turlow, I pleaded with them to join us. It wasn’t until Tuan turned into his shaggy wolfhound and barked at Brendan that he finally smiled and before long the only one wearing any threads was the Banshee. I even stopped and risked freezing my thingy off long enough to build a drying rack for Turlow. Finally he broke when we ganged up on him. When you think about it, four naked men jumping up and down in front of someone, while he is sitting, makes for pretty heavy peer pressure. Turlow was unenthusiastic to begin with but then really got into it. He started spinning like a top and then began screaming like

… well, like a Banshee.

I still had trouble getting trance-like. Something was tugging on my brain cells that kept pulling my consciousness back to reality. Finally I stopped and checked my laundry. My blankets were still wet but my clothes were dry, so I got dressed and decided to take a walk to clear my head. The others were so lost in dance that they didn’t even notice I was gone. I had to walk quite far away before Turlow’s howling was distant enough to allow me to think. Something was weighing on me and I wasn’t sure what it was. Then it hit me. Essa had said that Turlow hadn’t wanted to come with her, but then Turlow told me that Essa didn’t want him with her. One of them was lying to me. There were lots of reasons why neither of them would tell me the truth. As Turlow had rightly pointed out it was none of my business. It might mean that their relationship wasn’t going as well as it seemed, which from my point of view was good news, but then again maybe it was something else. I had no way of knowing but at least I had figured out what was bothering me. Now that my mental conflict was solved, I turned back to my frolicking companions and decided to give the dangly-dance one more try. As I got closer I saw them bopping in silhouette and I knew something was wrong. I stood stock still, surveyed the area and listened. I couldn’t see or hear whatever it was that was making the hair stand up on the back of my neck but something was wrong, something was very wrong. What was it? That’s when I saw it; I saw it and my heart jumped in my chest. As I watched my four companions dance around my bonfire, I counted them: one, two, three, four – five.

The four of them were so lost in the fire dance that they didn’t notice that there was a strange man bopping along with them. Twice today I hadn’t had the Lawnmower on my hip when I wanted it, so I had made sure I brought it with me on this walk. I drew it and advanced slowly. As I got closer I could plainly see that the interloper was without a stitch of clothes, which, on the plus side, meant he was definitely unarmed. I lowered my guard a bit and jogged the last stretch of beach until I stood just outside the moat the dancers had made in the sand. Still none of them noticed me. The stranger was as absorbed in the dancing as the rest of them. His straight red hair flew around like a sixties go-go dancer. If I had seen him clothed and from the back I might have said he was a woman, but in the firelight there was no avoiding his gender. He was dancing behind Tuan and I was struck at how similarly they were built except for the stranger’s arms – they would have put a post-spinach Popeye to shame.

I waited until Araf came by and grabbed his arm to pull him out of the circle. Instead he pulled me in. I had forgotten just how solid that guy is and I almost fell into the fire. Anyway, I got his attention. He stood and looked at me confused, like a sleepwalker that just found himself in the hallway of a hotel.

‘Look,’ I said to him, pointing to the other dancers.

Araf was still out of it and tilted his head like a dog being taught algebra.

‘Intruder alert!’ I shouted, pointing to the new member of our dance troupe.

He saw him and snapped into action. He leapt over the edge of the fire (something I would never do without clothes on) and grabbed his banta stick. This startled Turlow enough for him to notice that we were not alone. Turlow had the good sense to throw his clothes on. I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Brendan. Turlow came up next to us holding his Banshee blade. Tuan was still completely oblivious.

‘Who is he?’ Turlow asked.

‘I don’t know. You were dancing with him – you tell me.’

We watched as the stranger and Tuan spun and danced around the dwindling fire. Tuan sailed past us in his own little world, then the stranger, right behind him, turned and gave us a little chest-high wave. On the next pass we grabbed Tuan and made him see who his dance partner was. At first he looked shocked and then he dropped onto all fours and turned into his wolfhound. The stranger kept dancing and spinning like he owned the place. When he came by again wolfhound-Tuan stuck his nose in for a sniff and our visitor stopped and gave him a little pat on the head, like he was casually walking in the park.

‘Excuse me,’ I started, but the naked stranger just danced away. We all looked at each other. On his next pass I tried again and was again ignored. On the third pass I stepped in front of him. My sword wasn’t pointed at him but then again it wasn’t in its scabbard – he had to stop and he did.

‘Excuse me,’ I repeated. ‘This is our fire.’

He looked at me. I still couldn’t see his eyes in the light and he tilted his head just like Araf had done minutes before and said, ‘You own fire. How does that work?’

Now it was my turn to be confused. ‘Well… we made the fire.’

‘So you think if you make something, then you own it?’ He smiled a toothy grin and shook his head. ‘I have known many a parent that thought that. They were usually disappointed.’ Then he turned and danced around in the other direction.

Tuan returned to Pooka form and the dancer came around again.

‘A Pooka that would rather shiver in his skin than stay in his fur.’ He pushed past me and we waited for his next lap. ‘A Banshee in the company of Hawathiee?’ He then put his hand on Araf’s head as if to measure him. ‘I see an Imp’ – he grabbed Araf’s hand and looked at it – ‘with no dirt under his fingernails?’

He spun off again. This guy was really starting to annoy me. I tried to speak to him when he came around again but he put his hand in front of my face to stop me. I wanted to chop that hand off. I wanted to tell him that I had chopped a hand off before.

He stood inches in front of Brendan and looked him up and down. ‘I don’t think I have ever seen a Druid look so confused.’

‘Who are you?’ I demanded.

He finally then gave me the once-over. ‘A Faerie. Is it hard for you, Faerie, being so far away from your mountain of gold?’

‘Who – are – you?’

‘Who am I?’ he said indignantly. ‘A Banshee and an Imp and a Druid and a Pooka and a Faerie are dancing naked in the Alderlands without a Brownie in sight and you ask – who I am? Whoooo arrrrrre youuuuuu?’

‘I am Conor of…’

He dashed into the night and came back roughly dragging the boat that Tuan had almost finished assembling. ‘Sailors are we?’ Tuan grabbed the boat from him and half of the flimsy frame popped out from the oiled leather skin. ‘And where are the sailors sailing to?’

I didn’t think that telling him our plans was a good idea but Brendan answered him. ‘We are going to Red Eel Isle.’

‘And where is that?’

Brendan pointed out to sea.

‘Red Eel Isle – is that what you call it?’

‘What do you call it?’ I asked.