John Lenahan - Prince of Hazel and Oak

‘You’re the invisible man.’

He looked up from the slate. ‘I’m who?’

‘You are the invisible man – I dreamt about you.’

‘That, Conor, is not possible.’

‘No, I did. I dreamt about you but I didn’t know it was you. You were invisible. I saw you walking with Essa and talking to Cialtie, but I thought it was me. I didn’t see that it was you until you took that amulet off your neck.’

Turlow stopped writing and poked the amulet that was now hanging around the emain slate. ‘You and your uncle’s dream vision is truly remarkable. You are the only ones that have ever seen even the tiniest bit past my seithe amulet.’

Seithe, I thought, searching the language database in my head. Seithe means hide.

‘I suspect all of the dreamers in The Land will spot me now, but I had to use the amulet on the slate ’cause I don’t want a reply to come through and erase this message before Red can read it.’

‘That’s Essa’s slate I take it?’

He tilted his head in a gesture of false guilt. ‘I always take the opportunity to steal something when I am in the Alderlands. The next time you are there, you should try it. Everyone always suspects a Brownie. But I don’t imagine you will be visiting in the Alderlands any time soon – or ever.’

‘So Brendan was right, you are Cialtie’s lackey.’

He stopped his writing and looked sharply up. ‘There are no lackeys here. Cialtie rightfully wants back his Oak Throne and I want the Banshees to finally hold the position they deserve in The Land.’

‘Yeah, as Cialtie’s lackeys.’

I thought for a second that he was going to hit me, but then he laughed. ‘I find it very hard to be provoked by a person who can’t move from the neck down.’

He had a point. I would have shrugged in agreement if I could have moved my shoulders. It was amazing how calm I was about all of this. Maybe ’cause last night I had already decided that I had failed, this was just the icing on the cake.

‘How did you get one of my aunt’s paralysing pins?’

‘I have a bag full of them. Cialtie stole Nieve’s recipe book and he still has a couple of Leprechaun goldsmiths under his protection – so to speak. I’ve been aching to use one of these on you for ages – if only to shut you up. I didn’t know what I was going to do when I lost them and Essa’s slate on the bottom of the sea. It took me all night to convince Red to get them for me.’

‘How did Red get them?’

‘Your uncle is right about you – you’re not very clever. You know so little about Red he might as well be your invisible man. Now quiet, I have to finish this before he comes back.’ Turlow bent back down to the slate and asked, ‘How do you spell mortals?’

‘What did you tell Red?’

‘I just pointed out how you and that traitor Pooka over there destroyed the Tree of Knowledge, marooning all of the Pookas in their fur and then I told Red how you were planning to butcher him, so you could use his blood to bring an army of mortals over from the Real World to take over The Land.’

‘Red’s blood?’

‘Like I said, Conor – there is a lot you don’t know about our host.’

‘And did he believe you?’

‘Well, he hasn’t talked to many people in a long time and I do lie particularly well, so yes, he did. And when I show him this letter here that you wrote – then I’m fairly sure he’ll kill you. It would be better if Red kills you. That way I don’t have to lie to Essa when she asks me if I did it – in case she uses that Owith glass she has. I’ll tell you what, if she doesn’t use that pesky truth crystal, I’ll tell her that you died saving my life. Don’t say I never did you any favours.’

‘I wouldn’t want to be you when she finds out.’

‘She’ll be dead before she finds out – along with everyone else in the Hall of Knowledge. The army of the Banshees and the Brownies will see to that.’

He finished forging the message and said, ‘Time to meet Moran.’

‘Who’s Moran?’

Turlow let out an overly dramatic sigh as he stood up. ‘Red is Moran.’

Moran, where had I heard that name? Yes, I remembered, he was the Pooka that left to start the colony of mermaids – the Mertain. Queen Rhiannon had said he was maybe the smartest Pooka that ever lived and that he could change into any animal.

‘So what – does Red change into a worm?’

‘Well well,’ Turlow said as he grabbed me by the hair. ‘The Faerie can be taught.’

Aunt Nieve’s paralysing pin only meant that I couldn’t move – it didn’t mean that I couldn’t feel pain. Turlow dragged me out of bed by my hair and then bumped me like an ironing board over empty bunks. My heels hit the floor hard as I was dragged backwards at a forty-degree angle through The Digs. Just inside the front door I saw Araf, Brendan and Tuan all vertical and propped against the wall. Araf was still curled up like he was asleep. Brendan had his arm outstretched as if to stop an attacker and Tuan looked like a toy soldier who had fallen backwards against the wall while at attention. As I was dragged past, their eyes frantically dashed back and forth in their sockets, but they couldn’t speak. Turlo must have pinned them very high on their necks.

‘Red is Moran,’ I shouted over to Tuan. I saw his eyes widen just before the sunlight blinded me.

My heels slammed painfully into each of the steps that led down from the porch. It hurt like hell but I refused to let the Banshee hear me yelp. He finally propped me precariously up against a tall stump. When he let me go I slid and fell nose first into the hard ground. He didn’t even try to catch me. When he propped me up again I spat in his face.

‘Ooh,’ he said, wiping his cheek with his sleeve, ‘I was wondering when you would get a little fight in you.’

‘Wouldn’t you really like to fight me yourself – man to man? Take this pin out of my shoulder and grab a sword. Only lackeys use lackeys to do their dirty work for them.’

‘Conor, I am The Turlow, I do not need to prove my manhood to anyone. I have long ago discovered that it is not the way of winning that matters, just the winning.’

‘The ends justify the means.’

‘Yes, well put.’

‘I can see why you get along with my uncle so well. Tell me, Turlow. Where were you when I cut Cialtie’s hand off? Were you in Castle Duir?’

‘No, I was in the Reedlands.’

‘You’re welcome,’ I said with a snort.

‘For what?’

‘I saved your life.’

Turlow shook his head. ‘Cialtie told me that you would say something like that.’

‘Yeah, ’cause he knew it was true. He tried to kill you.’

Turlow wasn’t listening any more. He looked past me – I couldn’t turn my head far enough to see what he was looking at. He walked towards me and stuck another one of Aunt Nieve’s pins in me. This time in my neck, then he removed the one in my shoulder. I could no longer turn my head and when I tried to speak I found that I no longer could do that either. All I could do was look straight ahead as a strong gust of wind from behind whisked my hair into my face.

‘Good morning, Moran,’ Turlow said as Red appeared in my peripheral vision.

Red walked around me. All of the previous frippery in his demeanour was now gone. He eyeballed me like a general inspecting his troops.

‘What do you have to say for yourself?’ Red asked me. When I said nothing he asked, ‘Can he speak?’

‘He could speak if he chose,’ Turlow lied, ‘but he knows he is caught. I found him writing this letter to his father – the father that is supposed to be encased in glass.’ Turlow showed Red the message on the face of the emain slate.

‘I am sorry for bringing these troubles to your island,’ Turlow said, ‘but I must go. I must make the tide and I must warn my people of what I have just learned.’