Written by: Aryea

 

TITLE: Land of the Fienne

 

CHAPTER SIX 

CHAPTER 6

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Nigel set the gift on his small coffee table. There appeared to be a small stand on the bottom to prevent the object from rolling off. He pulled off the black cloth and stared at the fortune teller’s ball, perplexed. “What in the world?”

A sudden mist appeared inside the ball and Nigel warily stepped back. A face appeared inside the ball, tiny and delicate and wonderfully familiar.

“Braennon!” Nigel exclaimed moving forward eagerly. He stepped over the coffee table settled upon the sofa; Braennon’s face followed him. Would this be some sort of communication between their worlds? If so it would be a great gift indeed.

“Greetings, Nigel.”

Nigel’s smile grew, as did his surprise that he could hear her as plain as if she were really in the room. “Fantastic! This is better than satellite video conference!”

Braennon laughed musically and Nigel flushed, pleased. “I am afraid this is one time only, my dear friend. I have placed a portion of my gifts inside this crystal ball to offer you your truest wish.”

“Yes,” Nigel nodded. “You said that before. What do you mean? I remember throwing a coin into the fountain in Piccadilly Square , but I don’t remember what I wished for. It was so long ago, but I am sure it was nothing significant enough to warrant such a sacrifice of your power, Braennon.”

“I have lived a very long time, Nigel Bailey. I will not live much longer…”

“What? I thought you said the singing tree would save your people?”

“And so it shall. However, to furnish your journey I was bound to aid you to the best of my ability. Do you remember what I told you about the gifts the Feinne are given?”

Nigel shook his head in denial. “No,” he whispered, gripping the ball with both hands to pull her closer. Immediately a mist began to form again and Breannon started to disappear. He released the ball. “God! I’m sorry! What did I do?”

“You must not touch the crystal, Nigel. That is why it is covered. Your human essence will be absorbed by it and deplete its power.”

 “I don’t want you to die, Braennon.”

Braennon remained smiling. “Nigel, fairies do not die.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Your spirit is absorbed into the natural things around you, but what is that if it is not death? You will no longer exist.”

She shook her head, alarmed. “Oh, no Nigel. It is not so horrible.” She smiled wistfully. “I will be part of everything. I will be the beauty in the swaying bluebells, the rustling in the tallest trees. I will be the sparkle in the longest running river. I will exist, just in a different way.”

Nigel knew that he would not win this argument any better than he would win one with Sydney so he changed the subject. “So, what is this gift thing, aside from the presence of your lovely face?”

Braennon giggled at his compliments. “It is your greatest wish.”

“I don’t remember what that was.”

“Think hard, Nigel. You will remember.”

Nigel closed his eyes and tried to go back to that night. He had been feeling miserable, he went to the fountain well intoxicated from the champagne and tossed a coin in. What he had been thinking at that specific moment was beyond him. He was angry at Preston for pissing off with some bird and not coming to his graduation. He was frustrated with the whole day overall. He had been afraid and restless, feeling cast adrift in the world.

As much as he hated boarding school it was the only home that he had known for those last two years, after his parent’s died. It was his one stability. No matter what else was happening, school was always a constant. It was where he could go to escape the horrors of the real world and immerse himself in books. It was consistent, precise and familiar.

He’d had letters from several prestigious schools, including Eaton, but he hadn’t been sure if he wanted to go straight to college. It was what was expected, of course, but he didn’t know if he could handle being the youngest one there as well.

Eventually he decided to take a year off and backpack through Europe for a year. His brother and grandfather almost had a seizure at the idea, but Nigel was set on it. He took his savings, what clothes he could carry and off he went, without their blessing. He stayed in small inns and bed and breakfasts along the way. Sometimes he took trains but most often he would walk. Often the locals would offer him a lift to the nearest town. It was a wonderful lesson in the compassion and generosity of others.

The trip did him a world of good. He managed to shed most of his left over weight and it also gave him a better perspective on things. For the first time in his life, he had gone out and done something totally unexpected and it had felt incredibly satisfying. He met others on his journey and found that making friends was much easier than he once believed. The girls all seemed to enjoy his initial shyness and other things came in due course.

By the time he had returned, he looked and felt like a new man. He knew what he wanted to do and where he wanted to go in this world. He would not become a lawyer like his mother or a businessman like his father. He would become a master historian and teach history to others. It was his passion, a passion he shared with his father who loved the tales of history, but had been unable to pursue his dream to become a professor. Instead, Roger Bailey had listened to his own father and became an entrepreneur. He had been a success at business, but Nigel knew that his father had never been happy in what he had become.

Since he was taking on his father’s dream, he decided to attend his mother’s Alma Mater of Oxford. His trip through Europe had opened his eyes to many things and he managed to fit in well with the others at the collage. He had an active social life, with friends and several girlfriends. It was where he met Amanda and fell in love for the first time.

As he recalled all of this, Nigel still cannot remember what he might have wished for all that long ago.

He sighed and opened his eyes. “I can’t remember.” Braennon’s image was gone and only mist swirled inside the ball now. He frowned. “Braennon?”

“Look to your heart, Nigel.” the Queen of the Feinne called through the mist. “What is it you wanted most?”

Nigel suddenly heard a strange music in his head. A piano playing a familiar concerto. His eyes watered up. “That song that’s…” He paused as he realized that the music was coming from the crystal as well. He blinked rapidly and leaned closer as a figure formed inside the mist once more. A beautiful lady was playing a piano, with a small boy on the bench beside her.

Braennon’s voice whispered above the music. “Believe, Nigel.”

A tear slipped out as he remembered his wish. He had wanted to see his parents one more time. He wanted them there to advise him and to comfort him. He had wanted them to see him graduate and tell him they were proud of him. He reached a trembling hand towards the ball, then remembered Braennon’s warning and hovered just shy of touching the crystal. “Mum.”

“Your wish was to have your parents witness to your life. To ask their counsel and to relive your memories with them.”

Nigel watched as the mist changed into his father carrying him on his shoulders through the London Museum . “Dad.” He swallowed, hard. “How…how is this possible? What…what is this?”

“It is my gift to you, Nigel,” Braennon’s voice explained through the crystal. “You may have three choices when you look into the Loch’lhm. You may witness past memories, as you are doing now. You may seek its counsel and the forms of your mother and father will answer you. Or, you may seek a future that is not yet written.” Braennon’s face reappeared inside the crystal. “However, you only have a certain amount of uses for each particular choice; the gifts I have placed inside are not eternal.”

Nigel wiped the tear away from his cheek. “But, this isn’t real. It isn’t possible for me to really talk to my parents. Is it?”

“It is as real as you believe it to be, Nigel. I believe that the Loch’lhm will counsel you as your true parents would. I have borrowed their essence from your dreams and they will be real to you. As real as you wish them to be.”

Nigel stared at the crystal with awe. He had seen many remarkable and fantastic things in his work with Sydney , but this was the most extraordinary. “I…I don’t know how to thank you. I…” He paused and scowled. “There isn’t some dark lord with another ball like this watching everything I say and do and planning a war to end all wars, is there?”

More musical laughter. “Oh, Nigel. My wish would be to take you with me, you amuse me so.”

Nigel flushed again.

“You must remember the rules, Nigel.”

He nodded. “Right. Don’t touch the…Loch’lhm, was it?”

“Yes! You pronounced it perfectly. Well done.”

He shrugged, sheepishly. “I have a gift for languages.”

“You must leave it covered whenever you are not using it.”

Nigel nodded. That was easy enough to remember. “What else?”

“You have your three choices. To view past memories you have as many days as one of your earth calendar years.”

He could live with 365 memories. “And…the other. Actually talking to my parents…seeking counsel?”

“You have only 5 of those.”

Nigel nodded again. He would save them for the really big decisions then. “And the last one? I can’t really see into the future can I?”

“It is a future that is not yet certain and you may still have the power to change it.”

“But, how is that possible? Is it really the future? How will I ask it to do that?”

“You simply ask for whoever’s future you are requesting.” She cautioned him. “However, it will be the immediate future. It could be days or only a matter of hours, so prepare for a possible result before you ask.”

“Right. Okay.” This was all so fantastic he could hardly believe any of this was real. “Um…and how many of those are there?”

“Only one, Nigel.”

Nigel considered the gravity of her answer. The gift of seeing into the future would indeed be an unimaginable and dangerously tempting power to offer someone. One chance and one chance only. He would remember that. “I understand,” he said quietly.

“I see that you do.” Braennon smiled again. “Now, for my final personal gift for you. Do you have a tall mirror, Nigel?”

“Yes, my wardrobe doors are mirrored.”

“Go and look at your back.”

Nigel rose, curious and did as she bid. He walked into his bedroom and pulled off his shirt. He had been so relieved to return to his adult body that he had felt impossibly vain when he first arrived home and had to check that everything was where he had left it. He had stared at himself in the mirror for some time, admiring the smoothness of his chest, the firmness of his arms. He had worked hard to get away from his childhood form; it was good to have the older him restored.

However, he had not noticed anything new about his back when he had looked earlier. He turned so that his back was facing the mirror and looked back. He lifted his hand to the small tattoo at the base of his spine, no larger than his thumb. Three circles, intertwined around a single seedling. The mark of the Feinne. He brushed his fingers over it with awe and started to smile.

Across the city, Sydney was also admiring the tattoo at the base of her spine. She knew every inch of her adult body and had just stepped out of the shower when she noticed the small mark on her lower back, when passing the tall antique mirror that stood in the corner of her room. She hadn’t had a drinking binge in a long time, so knew she couldn’t have gotten it from that.

They’d had an eventful, but exhausting trip back home. As promised they flew from Ireland straight to England to keep their date with The Queen. They showed their invitations to prove whom they were and were immediately ushered into Windsor Castle .

Queen Elizabeth, decked out in a demure peach coloured skirt suit, with prim buttons all the way up the front and a small rounded hat upon her halo of white hair, was so delighted to see them that she actually clapped her hands and did a tiny little bounce of joy. It was over as soon as it began; however, on the Queen of England it was as unexpected as seeing real cats and dogs fall from the sky.

She had greeted them officially, and they returned the greeting in kind. She then asked to see the invitations, which they quickly offered her, as well as a small palm-sized box that Braennon had given them for the Queen. Inside was a single acorn, and Sydney and Nigel advised Elizabeth to plant the acorn and that a beautiful tree would grow to replace the one that she had given up.

Elizabeth’s features had softened slightly at the gift, and then she called immediately for her gardener, instructing him to plant it beneath her bedroom window in the South garden. She warned him to take great care and the gardener actually paled slightly at her tone.

He understood that Elizabeth wasn’t messing around and beheading may be reinstated, should the he foul up this particular task. He bowed, took the box as if he was holding the most precious of the crown jewels, and off he went to do as his Majesty bid.

Nigel and Sydney had tea with the Queen and, also as promised, revealed the ending of their tale. The Queen had listened quietly, most of her earlier animation had faded, but she was still the picture of graciousness and the perfect hostess.

She then insisted that they remain the night, for they both looked exhausted. In the morning, her Majesty’s Royal Service escorted Nigel and Sydney out of the palace and placed them on the morning flight of the Concord . Nigel had been over the moon.

Sydney was pulled from the memory as her phone rang. She dove across her bed to reach the cordless receiver on her nightstand. “Hello?”

“Syd? Hi. Did I wake you?”

“No.” Sydney flopped over on he back. She’d had a feeling that it was Nigel calling. “No, I just got out of the shower.”

“Oh. I was just wondering if you…um…noticed anything new about…about yourself.”

Sydney grinned. “You mean the tattoo? Yeah, just noticed it. Kind of cool really. I guess you have one too?”

“Yes, so it appears.”

“Where is it?”

“My back. Where is yours?”

“Same.”

They were quiet for a moment, each remembering their adventures of the last few days. They had agreed to keep what happened between themselves, after all, who would believe it? Faeries, magic trees and tea with the Queen of England, it was all so surreal.

When Karen had asked how the trip went Sydney and Nigel had just smiled at each other and said it was magical. They had catalogued the Staff head of St. Patrick, caught up on some paperwork and then finally headed home from the university. Sydney was the first to break the silence.

“Was it…Did it really happen, Nige?”

Nigel was silent for a long time and then said. “Yes, I think so.” Another pause. “Did you look at Breannon’s gift yet?”

Sydney sat up. She had completely forgotten about it, it was still in her bag. “No. What was yours?”

“Um…I don’t know if they will be the same, so go and look at yours.”

“Okay. I’ll call you back.” Sydney hung up, pulled on her robe and hurried out to the living room where her clothes bag still sat waiting to be unpacked. Nigel had transferred her gift into her bag once they were on the plane back home.

She carefully pulled out the heavy, cloth-covered gift and set it on her dining room table. She pulled the cloth away. While it was certainly pretty, settled on a little gold claw stand, it was hardly what she had expected.

A mist began to form in the ball and her eyes widened, curious. A moment later, Breannon’s face appeared. “Greetings, Sydney .”

“Well, this is special!” Sydney laughed delighted. Any doubts she might have had about the reality of their adventures suddenly fled from her mind. “How are you, Braennon?”

“I only have a few moments, Sydney to explain your gift to you.”

“An explanation would be good.” Sydney smirked. “If you’re recommending I go into fortune telling you’ve got the wrong girl. Now my friend Claudia…”

“I wanted to give you your greatest wish, Sydney .”

“My greatest wish?” Sydney had pretty much all that she ever wanted. Her life was exactly as she liked, she had a job doing something she enjoyed and she was good at it. Granted, romantically she’d been hitting a wall lately but everyone went through spells. Her eyebrows rose again. “Is it a man?”

Braennon shook her head, smiling. “No, Sydney. This was a wish you made when you were eleven years old.”

“Eleven years old?” Sydney almost laughed. “What was it, for ice cream or something?”

Braennon shook her head. “No. I wanted to give you your greatest wish and, to my pleasure, discovered that your wish had already come true.”

Sydney nodded. Of course. She wanted to be a Relic Hunter; a choice inspired by her grade-five history teacher, Professor Newell.

“No, Sydney,” Braennon denied. “What you do now was not your greatest wish.”

Sydney frowned and then an idea occurred to her. Her greatest wish might be to catch the man who murdered her mentor. “De Viega!” she hissed. “You can show me where he is?” But then she remembered Braennon saying her wish had already come true. “Wait…I’m lost. What wish, Braennon?”

“Think back, Sydney . Close your eyes and remember where you were when you were thirteen years old and saw a shooting star. The wish you made.”

Sydney closed her eyes and searched her memory. At thirteen she would have been traveling with her father and attending yet another new school. That would have been 1983, which would have put her in Egypt , where her father was working. She thought hard about ever seeing a shooting star when she was that age.

Yes! During the summer, her father had arranged for her to go on an Archaeological dig with a colleague of his. Sydney had seen a shooting star one of those nights and she had made a wish, but she couldn’t remember what it was.

She opened her eyes again and noticed a mist forming in the ball. She leaned forward, wondering if it was somehow drawing on her memories. When the mist cleared the crystal was back to its original form. There was no image floating inside. She frowned. “I don’t get it.”

Braennon’s voice echoed from the ball. “You have your wish, Sydney . The Loch’lhm holds no vision for you.”

“But, I don’t remember what I wished for,” Sydney protested. “How can I know that I got my wish if I don’t remember it?”

“You remember, Sydney . The Loch’lhm also holds visions of your past. Think of the memory and it will appear. Perhaps that will help you to remember.”

Sydney did just that and the mist swirled for a moment, and then cleared to show her as a young girl, inspecting a scorpion that lay dead in the sand. She poked at it with a stick and waited to see if it would move. She became bored with the game and straightened. The vision of her younger self looked lonely as she wandered around the dig site, careful not to disturb anything. Sydney slowly started to remember.

The adults had retired for the evening, but she had been unable to sleep. She suffered from insomnia some nights from all the traveling that she did with her father. She was glad for the chance to be away from another new school. Although she had no problem fitting in, she was very outgoing and developed a knack for languages that helped her adapt to the many different cultures she found her self surrounded by.

However, through all of the traveling and the exciting things she saw and did, she had not had a real friend since she went to school in Paris and had lost contact with her roommate and best friend at the time. She was never anywhere long enough to develop a solid, lasting relationship and even when she did click with someone, they always had to be left behind when she moved and they soon lost touch.

Sydney watched as her childhood figure glanced up in time to see a silver star shooting across the midnight sky. The adult Sydney mimicked her younger self and automatically closed her eyes as her wish came back, her thirteen-year-old voice echoing through the crystal.

I wish I had someone to talk to. A real friend who loves me and accepts me and will follow me anywhere I go.

Sydney opened her eyes and saw Nigel in the crystal. Her eyes watered with emotion. Braennon was right. She had gotten her greatest wish.

“Now you understand?” Braennon’s features replaced Nigel’s in the crystal.

Sydney nodded. “Yes.”

Braennon smiled, and then gave Sydney the same speech on the powers of her gift regarding the viewing of memories and her one glance into the future. Sydney thanked her and wished her a good journey and the crystal cleared.

Sydney placed the cover over the crystal and looked around for a good, solid place to put it. She decided on placing it in her grandmother’s wardrobe chest, away from prying eyes and with little chance of the precious gift getting broken.

The only things in the chest had been Isabelle’s mementoes and a few of her stage costumes and records. Sydney had added her mother’s wedding dress, several family photos that were close to her heart, and the bouquet from Randal and Jenny’s wedding. The crystal globe fit perfectly in a drawer in the bottom.

Sydney smiled at the box that contained so many parts of her heritage, and all the things that were precious to her. Except for Nigel of course, she could hardly put him in the chest. She smiled and closed the chest, locking it in place.

She walked over to her bedside phone and dialled Nigel’s number. Her wish had come true. She smiled secretly and waited for him to answer.

“Hey, Syd.”

He must love that caller ID on his phone. “Hi. Wanna pick up a pizza and a six pack of beer and come over to watch some really sappy movies?”

There was a pause before Nigel answered. “That sounds like something girlfriends do, Syd.”

Sydney grinned. “Yep.” She paused as she looked at the tiny scar on her palm. Or siblings.

“You’re not going to make me try on makeup or do your hair or anything?”

“Nope, but we can have a sleepover in the living room.”

Nigel chuckled. He knew that a sleep over at Sydney ’s would be exactly that, a sleepover and nothing untoward. “You’re in a good mood. You must have liked your gift.”

“Yeah. We can swap stories when you get here. Hurry because I’m famished.”

“Be there soon.”

“Nigel!” Sydney called before he hung up.

“Yes?”

“If I jump off a bridge, would you follow me?”

“Are you joking? You’d probably be throwing me off the bloody thing first!”

Sydney laughed. “So…would you follow me?”

There was a softness in his voice as he said. “Anywhere, Syd.”

Sydney felt a flush of pleasure run through her. “Likewise, Nige.”

Fini

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