John Lenahan - Prince of Hazel and Oak

I instructed the guards to get Brendan a bath and a change of clothes and a new room. I told them he shouldn’t give them any more trouble but they should keep a close eye on him. They looked sceptical but agreed.

I went back to Dad’s room and kept vigil with Mom, Nieve, Fand and the Imp-healer, who I learned was named Bree. Minutes felt like hours, and as every one crawled by I wanted to ask how he was doing, but I knew they didn’t know, so I didn’t ask. I hate waiting, I always have, but that was the worst. I felt so helpless. Fand recited a healing mantra in Ogham and I asked her to teach it to me. I could feel the healing magic in the words but wondered if it was getting through Dad’s amber shell. As the afternoon moved on, we all five chanted it together.

The curtains were drawn so I couldn’t tell if night had fallen but Mom and Fand both looked up at each other at the same time, as if they were alerted by some soundless alarm.

Fand removed Dad’s sheet as Mom placed a small dollop of amber sap in her palm and held it over the Shadowfire that was burning on a table at the foot of the bed. She dripped the molten sap onto Dad’s foot. It was a darker shade of amber than his shell and I watched as it passed through the shell like water in a bowl of oil. The darker sap began to entwine and elongate, wrapping around the leg like a serpent and then continued to thin, until it wrapped his entire body with a fine line just under the surface of his glass-like sarcophagus. Fand placed her hands on either side of Dad’s head and incanted in Ogham. The dark latticework spiralled and pulsed darker. Mom held Dad by his legs and swung them to the left so his right foot hung out of the bed. Even though I had seen it before, it shocked me to see Dad’s whole body move as if he were made of marble. Fand released Dad’s head and Mom cupped her hands under the foot. The dark spiral retraced its path and when Mom pulled her hands back, in her palm was the dark sap.

Mom held the sap over the Shadowfire and Fand, on the other side of the table, placed her hands under hers. Together they chanted words that sounded so strange I wondered how their tongues could make them. The sap dripped through their fingers and onto the Shadowfire. An image formed as they withdrew and as the vision cleared I saw it was my father, standing before me, upright, naked. His body was whole except for his right hand – it was in its proper place but detached from him by a few inches. The two Shadowwitches placed their hands into the vision and caressed Dad’s shadow-form. Mom had her back to me but I could see Fand’s face. Tears formed in her eyes – I didn’t know wht that meant. A cry escaped from Mom’s throat and the two women reached for each other, breaking the vision, and embraced, both openly weeping.

‘What?’ I said, not knowing if I should speak but I couldn’t take it any longer.

Mom turned and wiped the tears from her eyes but kept her hands over her mouth as she tried to compose herself. Finally she dropped her hands and crossed them on her chest. ‘It worked,’ she said.

It wasn’t until it was all over that Mom allowed her fatigue and strain to show. Nieve and I had to help her walk to her chamber where she permitted herself to truly rest for the first time in a long while. I went back to check on Dad. Fand was still there, clearing up.

‘Does he dream?’

‘I do not know,’ she replied.

‘What happens now?’

‘Now we have time to find a cure.’

‘How long can he stay like this?’

Her answer should have comforted me but instead it sent a chill down my spine. ‘For ever,’ she said.

I checked on Dad before I went down to breakfast. The sound of Fand saying ‘For ever’ echoed in my brain and I wondered if this was the way I would start my day for the rest of my life. I was shocked by a transformed Brendan when I arrived at the food hall. He was smiling, cleaned up and wearing a leather shirt and trousers that surprisingly suited him. He was trying to communicate with an attractive red-headed woman who, when I arrived, stood, bowed and quickly departed.

‘Aw, you scared her away,’ Brendan said. ‘I was doing quite well there. I already found out her name was Faggy Two.’

When he said that, I started to laugh.

‘What’s so funny?’

I then laughed so hard I had to sit down and cover my face until I could get some semblance of composure. It wasn’t just what he had said that made me laugh, it was the tension of the last couple of days bubbling to the surface. ‘I’m sorry, Brendan,’ I said, wiping my eyes, ‘I don’t think you were doing as well as you thought, fagfaidh tu is Gaelic for Go away.’

‘Oh.’

‘And what are you doing trying to pick up women? You’re a married man.’

‘First of all, this is my dream, remember? A man can’t get into trouble for having an affair when he’s asleep, and secondly, I’m not a married man.’

‘You told me you had a wife and a daughter.’

‘No, you said I have a wife and a daughter. I only said I have a daughter.’ His mood dropped a bit. ‘I’m a widower.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

‘Me too. Hey, what do you think of my new threads?’ he asked quickly, obviously trying to change the subject.

‘You look like a native,’ I said and meant it. ‘You’re even growing a beard I see.’

‘No, Frick wouldn’t let me have a razor.’

‘Frick?’

Brendan pointed to the Imp and the Banshee guards that I had assigned to keep an eye on him. ‘I call them Frick and Frack.’

I waved to the guards who were standing by the entrance of the room; they gave me an official nod. I could tell this was not their favourite detail. ‘Which one is Frick?’

‘I don’t know. I keep getting them mixed up.’

Breakfast arrived and Brendan ate like there was no tomorrow. Except for the chopping and moans neither of us spoke until our plates were clean. When we had finished Brendan said, ‘The food in this dream is just fantastic, half the time I can’t wait to wake up but for the other half I hope it will continue until the next meal.’

‘Brendan, you have to stop thinking like that. I know it makes you feel better, but this is real.’

Nieve entered the dining hall. Brendan jumped to his feet and backed off. She sat down across from me and said, ‘How is our guest?’

Warily, Brendan sat next to me, as if for protection, and pointed to Nieve. ‘That’s the witch that trashed my police station!’

‘What did he say?’ Nieve asked.

‘Oh, he said good morning, it’s nice to see you again,’ I lied.

Nieve gave me a sceptical look.

‘This is my dream and I don’t want her in it!’ he shouted, pointing his finger inches from her face.

‘Careful, Brendan,’ I warned.

‘What is he saying?’ Nieve asked again, but then said, ‘Oh, this is ridiculous. Tell him to place his head on the table.’

It took a lot of convincing, but I finally got Brendan to place the side of his face flat down on the table. Nieve took a small piece of gold out of her satchel and rubbed it between her hands while incanting.

Brendan looked up with a wild panicky expression in his uppermost eye. ‘Is this going to hurt?’

‘He wants to know if this is going to hurt,’ I translated.

‘Yes, I suspect it will,’ Nieve said calmly.

‘No,’ I told Brendan, ‘you’ll be fine.’

Nieve opened her palms and dripped the molten gold into Brendan’s ear. He shot up, grabbed his ear, overturning the bench he was sitting on, and danced around the room howling in pain. I was glad no one other than me spoke English. The curse words coming out of his mouth would have made a prison inmate blush. He picked up a silver tray, sending half a dozen wine glasses crashing to the floor, and tried to use it as a mirror to view his ear. At his insistence I inspected the lughole and assured him that it looked OK – which it did – and finally got him sitting down again.