Read And Blue Skies From Pain Online
Authors: Stina Leicht
And Blue Skies From Pain (34 page)
“Oh.”
“I—I don’t think God can help me, Father. I think I have to make my own way.” Liam felt equal parts excited and terrified by the prospect. For the first time in his life he was committing to thinking for himself, not simply believing what someone else—the Church, the ’Ra—told him to believe. There was more to the world than anyone knew, particularly the Church. There had to be. He had to believe it was so.
Because I’m not a fucking demon and neither is my da.
He sat up a bit straighter.
He sat up a bit straighter.
“You’re never beyond the help of God, Liam.”
“Are you so certain of that?”
“I am,” Father Murray said. “God wouldn’t turn his back on any of his children.”
“Am I—you think I’m—” Again someone laughed. The presence was closer.
Was Father Thomas talking to someone?
Liam glanced at the door.
Was Father Thomas talking to someone?
Liam glanced at the door.
“Of course you are,” Father Murray said. A worried look gathered on his face, pinching a line between his eyebrows.
Liam nodded. It was comforting to hear Father Murray’s words, no matter what. Again, the old stories his aunt Sheila used to tell came to mind. The questions asked of priests on lonely roads in the middle of the night.
What’s to become of us when the end comes?
What’s to become of us when the end comes?
Liam walked to the altar and stared out of one of the small windows. The city glared back, sullen. The sky was a gunmetal grey, and mist clouded the glass with frost. He watched blurry people scurry across and down the street on their way home or to the market or whatever errands a normal life set them upon. He couldn’t help envying them.
If I’d been able to save Mary Kate, would she be a solicitor now? I’d have loved her more than anyone in the world. I’d have given her perfume and flowers. Whatever she wanted. I’d have seen to it she’d never had a worry in the world. I would’ve done whatever it took. We would’ve had our wee girl. And maybe another. And I would’ve seen them to school like all the other fathers.
If I’d been able to save Mary Kate, would she be a solicitor now? I’d have loved her more than anyone in the world. I’d have given her perfume and flowers. Whatever she wanted. I’d have seen to it she’d never had a worry in the world. I would’ve done whatever it took. We would’ve had our wee girl. And maybe another. And I would’ve seen them to school like all the other fathers.
I wouldn’t be here talking about fucking ghosts and demons with an ex-holy assassin.
He glanced up at the ceiling, searching for cameras. He didn’t see any, but he couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched. He paced down the aisle running between the wooden pews, arrived again at the door and peered out through the narrow window set inside.
He glanced up at the ceiling, searching for cameras. He didn’t see any, but he couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched. He paced down the aisle running between the wooden pews, arrived again at the door and peered out through the narrow window set inside.
He felt a touch on his left shoulder.
“I’m behind you, you cracked Fenian bastard.”
Liam whirled—the wrong direction as it turned out. Haddock stood just to his right, laughing. It was an old, childish game, but one that Haddock apparently delighted in. Liam checked an urge to punch the ghost. It was pointless.
“Is something wrong?” Father Murray asked.
“Not a thing,” Haddock said. “Everything is exactly as I like it.”
“Haddock is here,” Liam said.
Haddock made a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue. “Oh, now. He’ll only think you’re losing your mind. On second thought, this is a hospital. The mental ward is only a few floors away. That’s convenient. Isn’t it? Go ahead.” He made a hand motion indicating chattering.
“Fuck you.”
Frowning, Father Murray got to his feet. “Liam, tell Father Thomas to come back. Now.” He reached inside the pocket of his robe.
Liam was shoved against the door with a blow to the stomach. It knocked the breath out of him.
“Liam?”
Coughing and doubled over, Liam said, “Wasn’t me. It was Haddock again.”
“Lie down on one of the pews. Hurry. We have to start the exorcism.”
Liam drew in as much breath as he could and straightened. “I’ll try.” Father Thomas was knocking on the other side of the door. Liam could feel the force of the blows against his back. Eyes watering, he glared at Haddock. “Fuck away off.”
Haddock said, “Oh, I think I’ll stay.”
Father Murray produced a bottle of holy water and started muttering a prayer in Latin.
“The good Father thinks he can magic me away?” Haddock asked with a snort. “You can’t bless away the long arm of the law.”
“Why the fuck are you here, Haddock?” Liam asked, feeling Father Thomas hammer against the door with more urgency. Liam stayed where he was. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he moved. “What do you want?”
Haddock smiled, showing all of his teeth. He faded a bit for a moment and then solidified. As he did, his clothes became scorched and his skin blackened. “You and me have a score to settle.”
“You’re here to kill me then?” Liam asked.
Laughing, Haddock shook his head. “That’d be too easy. You don’t deserve easy. Not you. Not yet.”
“What do you fucking want?” Liam asked. He inched his way sideways in hopes of clearing the door for Father Thomas.
“I want my life back, you piece of shit!” Haddock slammed a palm down on the door, closing it in Father Thomas’s face. The violence of the action made Liam involuntarily jump.
“I can’t fucking give it back!” Liam pushed at Haddock. For an instant, Conor’s leather jacket felt warmer, and Liam caught the scent of incense. As his hands met Haddock’s chest Liam expected to go right through him but met a solid form instead. However, like before, Haddock’s skin gave away just a bit like cold jelly.
Or decayed flesh.
Liam’s stomach did a nasty twist, and he jerked back in revulsion. “Sod off!”
Or decayed flesh.
Liam’s stomach did a nasty twist, and he jerked back in revulsion. “Sod off!”
Haddock staggered backward. A shocked expression flashed across his face and then vanished behind a veil of rage. Liam took the opportunity to move away from the door.
Father Thomas squeezed through and sidled past. “What’s going on?”
“What did he say?” Father Murray asked.
Liam said, “He wants his fucking life back.”
“I’m sure D.I. Haddock misses his family and those he loved,” Father Murray said, signalling to Father Thomas.
Father Thomas rushed to the altar.
“Priests.” Haddock laughed again. “You just don’t fucking get it, do you?”
“He says you don’t understand at all,” Liam said.
“Why doesn’t he explain it, then?” Father Murray asked, clearly attempting to stall Haddock.
“I put bad people behind bars! That was my life! Every day I’m like this is one more day one of you Fenian fucks walks free!”
“Bad people? Are you fucking joking? You tortured me!” At that, Liam had a hunch he was missing something. It had to do with what his father had told him.
“Asked a few hard questions,” Haddock said. “I had a duty to the law.”
“Duty?” Liam let out a disgusted huff.
Haddock smiled his malicious smile. “You were the one who decided not to talk. Nigel merely attempted to provide appropriate motivation.” He harrumphed. “Seven days. Bloody lawyers. Civil rights. My arse. They should never have put in that stipulation. Terrorists deserve what they get. Fucking Paddies. Cromwell should’ve finished what he started and did us all a favor.”
Liam spat at Haddock.
“What did he say?” Father Murray asked.
Liam said, “He says he was only doing his fucking job.”
Haddock’s nostrils flared. “Don’t you wind me up, Paddy-boy. Don’t you fucking dare. I’ll break you. You know I can do it. And no one can fucking stop me. Not now.”
Liam said, “You don’t know shite. I didn’t steal that fucking car. And I never did anything to you.”
“Liam, what is he saying?” Father Murray asked.
“I can’t do my job properly any more, but I can make damned certain you suffer every day you have left!”
“Liam—”
What was it Da said?
Liam thought and then he remembered. “You started in on me first.”
Liam thought and then he remembered. “You started in on me first.”
“Liam, what is—”
Haddock frowned. “You broke the law.”
“You had no proof.” Liam felt his shoulders drop as the realization set in. “You lifted me because I was at the mechanic’s with Oran. You had fuck all. I didn’t steal that fucking car.”
“Sure you didn’t.”
“I didn’t!” Liam stepped closer to Haddock.
“And what does that matter?” Haddock asked. “You’d done something to deserve being nicked. If it wasn’t that car then it was something else. I’m right, aren’t I? Fucking piece of shit.”
“You started in on me first,” Liam said. “Fuck away off. I mean it. You can’t stay.”
“No! You—”
“I have it now,” Liam said. “I let you come back. It was me.”
My guilt.
“Well, I’m done, you fucking hear?” He shoved Haddock again, and again. Haddock stumbled backward. Reaching into his pocket, Liam wrapped a fist around the horseshoe nail.
My guilt.
“Well, I’m done, you fucking hear?” He shoved Haddock again, and again. Haddock stumbled backward. Reaching into his pocket, Liam wrapped a fist around the horseshoe nail.
“You can’t—”
“I can.” Then Liam punched Haddock full in the face. His fist met empty air.
Haddock was gone.
Chapter 18
The Other Side
December 1977
December 1977
“P
ick that crossed spear up like I told you, trainee,” the warrior Bran had introduced as Ceara said. The top of her head barely reached Liam’s chest, and she had the stocky build of a bricklayer. Like many of the Fianna, she was dressed in a combination of leather, fur, and wool. Her sleeveless brown leather vest was fitted with bronze buttons. Her loose-fitting wool leggings were dyed blue and gathered in at the shins and ankles with leather thongs. She’d taken off her long green cloak and folded it neatly on the ground. Her muscled and scarred arms were bare and folded across her flat chest. She had shoulder-length light brown hair knotted into braids, and pale eyes, and he guessed her age to be somewhere around thirty. A scar ran from just under her left eye, across a badly set broken nose and ended on her right cheek.
Sword slash. A bad cut, that. Was lucky not to lose her nose,
Liam thought.
ick that crossed spear up like I told you, trainee,” the warrior Bran had introduced as Ceara said. The top of her head barely reached Liam’s chest, and she had the stocky build of a bricklayer. Like many of the Fianna, she was dressed in a combination of leather, fur, and wool. Her sleeveless brown leather vest was fitted with bronze buttons. Her loose-fitting wool leggings were dyed blue and gathered in at the shins and ankles with leather thongs. She’d taken off her long green cloak and folded it neatly on the ground. Her muscled and scarred arms were bare and folded across her flat chest. She had shoulder-length light brown hair knotted into braids, and pale eyes, and he guessed her age to be somewhere around thirty. A scar ran from just under her left eye, across a badly set broken nose and ended on her right cheek.
Sword slash. A bad cut, that. Was lucky not to lose her nose,
Liam thought.
All in all, she was anything but beautiful and could’ve passed for a man but for her full lips and delicate jaw.
“The spear.” Her voice was every bit as hard-edged as her demeanor.
“No,” Liam said.
She scowled up at him. “And why not?”
“I’m not here to learn soldiering,” Liam said.
Her scowl became a glare, and if he hadn’t already faced down the likes of Éamon Walsh, Séamus and Haddock, Liam might have reconsidered his attitude in spite of her being so short.
She paced. “Your father ordered me to train you for the Fianna.”
“Then you got the wrong impression,” Liam said, mirroring her stance by folding his arms across his chest. He had to be careful how high he held his head, however, or he’d lose sight of her, and he had a hunch that’d be a very bad idea.
“What
are
you here for?” she asked, turning to walk toward him again.
are
you here for?” she asked, turning to walk toward him again.
“To learn about the Fey,” Liam said.
“All right,” she said. “What is it you’d like to know?”
“Everything.”
To his surprise she laughed. The effect was dramatic. Hearty mirth cast a light across her blunted and scarred features, softening her slate-grey eyes. “Sure and wouldn’t we all like to know so much? But you don’t have that long before the start of your trials. And you’ve enough learning ahead of you as it is. Could you be a bit more specific?” She sat on the grass and motioned for him to join her.
He sat, the spear abandoned in the grass several feet from his left hand. The clearing around them smelled of forest and moist black dirt. Cold as it was in Belfast, here it was a warm, fine afternoon. He shed Conor’s leather jacket. His ribs put up a half-hearted protest. “Trials?”
“Surely you didn’t think you could join the Fianna and not pass the trials?”
“Never said I wanted to join,” Liam said. “I did say I was done with soldiering, though. And I do mean it no matter what my father says.”
She studied his face for long enough that Liam began to wonder what she saw. “Bran is known for being a bit stubborn. And on more than one occasion has proven to possess selective hearing—not that I would know for certain.” She paused. A hint of mischief lurked behind her now stoney expression. “Nonetheless, I am charged to instruct you. And your failings will be mine. Bran is my
rígfénnid
. I can’t go against him in this.” She paused. “Well, not directly.”
rígfénnid
. I can’t go against him in this.” She paused. “Well, not directly.”
Feeling his jaw tighten, Liam said, “You’re saying I’ve no choice?”
“Not at all. Only that I don’t. You may inform Bran of your wish to withdraw at any time.”
Liam got to his feet.
“But,” she said, “I’m not so certain I’d do so just yet, if I were you.”
“Why?”
“Well, he has more than a few things on his mind at the moment.”
“Oh, aye?” Liam said. “Well, he isn’t the only one.”
She motioned for him to stop again. “You are a hot-headed one, aren’t you? Take after your da, if the stories are true. Sit. Listen. There’s more than one way of going about this.”
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