Pagewalker (20 page)

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Authors: C. Mahood

Tags: #books, #fantasy, #magic, #ireland, #weird, #irish, #celtic, #mahood, #pagewalker

BOOK: Pagewalker
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Even so accustomed to quiet moments and loneliness as
was Oisin, the absence of his long-departed cohort stirred unease
in his heart. The senses of a thief, he heard many men say, owned
something to a keen premonitory habit. Oisin’s own senses tore away
at his conscious thoughts, begging that he rise from his place and
seek out Garrett at the village. The wait had been far too long and
not a single villager had stumbled upon his trap, which he observed
from a dense bush. His leg twitched with anxiety, the final nail in
the coffin, and Oisin rose from his spot. On cue, footsteps came
upon him. From the bushes across the clearing, Garrett emerged,
panting heavily and still in possession of a bag of coins.

“You daft creature!” The thief darted
forward, hands outstretched as though to throttle the luchorpán.
Garrett hastily back-stepped, waving his arms furiously.

“Wait, wait! Wait! It’s all silver!”

“Yes, it’s all silver!” Oisin shot back,
steadily approaching.

“I need gold! Please – stop! I need
gold!”

“Gold? I’ve given you practically everything.
This is
your
fault. I did my part, boy, and did the brunt of
the task. You had but one job and failed to even sell a simple
story.”

“Wait, Oisin, you don’t understand.”

“No, I think I understand just fine. A week’s
hard work constructing this elaborate trap, all wasted.”

“We can still make good of this. Here – much
of your silver remains. But I assure you my people will be more
taken with gold coins. You showed me all of your purse, and I know
a few gold coins won’t noticeable lighten your load.”

Oisin’s breathing didn’t calm, but his
advance did. Garrett made good of this sign to coax his accomplice
into placidity, talking him through their new process, one that
pulled no punches, so to speak, and would have every luchorpán
clamoring for an opportunity to acquire the marvelous fortune.
Garrett spilled his story with blemishes unparalleled, swinging his
arms about to illustrate the scope of their fortunes.

“Enough talk,” Oisin eventually intervened,
digging a hand into his bag. “I’ll trust you once more that my
fortunes may be reversed – and I pray that they are else your
safety will be at my blade’s discretion.”

Garrett didn’t take the warning lightly; he
could sense in Oisin a devotion to high performance and loyalty.
And so it was that he came upon a purse of gold and with it
littered the ground approaching his village. Pieces of silver
remained from his first outing, and he was resolute in leaving them
there. A fiend dashing through the night, spilling coin along the
way, would hardly take notice to the little pieces. His friends in
the village would surely assume – or so Garrett hoped – such a
fiend paid nightly visits upon their place, a thief, or a villain
of other sorts. Once he had the trail laid, he returned to the
forest encampment to lie in wait with Oisin. The foreigner burst
with energy, over-eager for the possibility of a big haul.

Deep into the dark of night, rustling came
from the bush. Garrett and Oisin dug deeper into their shadowy
spots, watching through parted branches for the creature’s
emergence. In due time, it came to them, a luchorpán youth,
bedazzled by the trail of coin and the clearing to which it led. He
approached excitedly, eyeing each individual coin up to their end:
the tent. He stood there quizzically, cocking his head at the
construct. Oisin’s breathing seemed to stop, but Garrett could
sense the excitement boiling through his pores. They watched
together as the luchorpán took several more steps towards the tent.
His expression had changed, quite suddenly, from intrigue to fear,
and he dared not step closer towards the device. In an unexpected
rush, he turned around and darted away back through the bushes.
Oisin’s breathing returned at this misfortune, though he continued
to hold out hope for the luchorpán’s return until the rustling bush
could be heard no longer.

The duo proceeded in expected fashion, Oisin
berating his luchorpán accomplice for more oversights. He neared
the point of fulfilling his promise and drawing blade against
Garrett; Garrett, in turn, quelled those misgivings.

“My people may be wary, but I’ll not deny
their greed. With enough motivation, we can have them ensnared. Our
only goal now is to provide them that luxury.”

“Silver and gold both have failed us! How
many more failures before the month leaves us? I’m weary of this
game, Garrett. If not by deception, I’ll have your people by
force!”

“It needn’t come to that. I assure you, a few
more preparations, and we’ll have them where we desire. For
starters, a larger tent.”

“This tent was a week to build!”

“And asks for less to expand. Look upon it.
What creature, if any, could call that place its home?”

“What, except of yours?”

“And yet it’s not our architecture. We would
never steal from one another, but to take from an outsider would be
seldom frowned upon. If we can provide that illusion, they’re ours.
And the gold and silver, perhaps it isn’t exotic enough. Those
jewels that adorn your garment – I saw similar kinds in your bag
and satchel. Those foreign pieces would do us a great service in
creating the effect.”

Oisin turned away to think on the matter,
reluctant to have his most valuable possessions strewn throughout
the forest in a cat-and-mouse game, and yet he had no other options
but to comply. He knew how much his success depended on Garrett’s
insights, and although they’d failed enough to bring his blood to a
boil, the thief was not the type to leave such matters
inconclusive. “Very well,” he muttered. “Take my best jewels and
leave them upon the trail.”

“There’s no doubt, my friend. This will be
the long-awaited moment. The two of us together should be able to
fashion a large enough tent within a matter of days.”

Oisin nodded and they set off to work,
expanding the tent threefold. It seemed a fortress in the modest
woods, something none of the villagers would be able to turn away
from, especially with the wealth of jewels preceding it. On the
third night, Oisin and Garrett took to their usual places.

After weeks of planning and preparation, the
haul Oisin dreamed of finally ushered its way into reality, with a
large pack of luchorpán bursting into the clearing at once, arms
filled with silver, gold, and jewels alike. Taking no chances with
the possibility of escape, the rogue quietly made his way around
the circumference of the clearing, making his way behind the group.
His eyes bulged with each step closer the luchorpán came to the
tent. Silently, he counted the moments down.

“Three. Two. One.” Oisin extended a foot from
his hiding spot, anticipating the capture of his prey. But no
sooner did he emerge from the shadows than did a blinding light and
cloud of smoke encase him once more.

He fell backwards, coughing and waving away
at the treacherous gray. “Dammit! Dammit!” he cried, moving slowly
towards the tent. As the smoke fell away from the tent, he stood
perplexed before a singular luchorpán, Garrett, who shared his
expression.

“The jewels,” Garrett moaned. Then his face
turned sour and he paced about the tent in a fit. “They’re all
gone!”

“No more games!” Oisin cried out, darting
past Garrett, throwing him to the ground in the process. He came
upon the trap in search of remains of his haul. Only too late did
he hear the mechanism go off, encasing him within the contraption.
A heavy weight bore down on him which he attempted, to no avail,
heaving away. Gravity forced itself upon him, wringing from the
thief surprise and sapping him of his strength.

In good time, Oisin came to, a mass of
figures amassed on the outskirts of the contraption. They all
looked in on him, mischievous grins crossing their faces. The thief
recognized the people immediately as the luchorpán; from the size
of their number, he safely assumed the entirety of the village had
emerged from hiding to ridicule him. In a strange turn of events,
they threaten him with continued entrapment, his freedom hinging on
the condition that he surrender what was left of his gold and
worldly artefacts. Though the thief’s pride in his earnings keep
his steeling will alive for some hours, the pangs of hunger
ruptured that devotion, and he inevitably submit to the will of the
luchorpán, cursing them all the while.

From the crowd, Garrett triumphantly stepped
forward. “You’re free to go now, we’ve arranged for the Renir to
collect you at the dock where you’ll pay for your crimes.”

Oisin’s eyes flare with anger. “What crimes
are these? It’s you who has committed the crime of false
imprisonment.”

“Oh, I must have forgotten to mention. I made
contact with the men who chased you into this clearing. Men of
Renir, and they have identified a wealth of your possessions as
having been stolen from them. But you should also know that even
without their intervention, I recognized the make of your gold when
first I laid eyes on them.”

“You tricked me! You scoundrel!”

Garrett laughed at this. “You may be a master
thief, but you underestimated my people. Do you think I did not
recognise you? You served with my father, I know that you tried to
over throw him. This coin belongs to the Guild in Renir. You stole
not only treasures but the lives of all the guild members. You
punishment can not be too sever. My father told me Many tales of
you! The Ambitious and fearsome Oisin. I see the truth now, you
created legends and stories yourself to make people fear you. We
have all seen you for the fool that you really are.”

Oisin seemed more resigned to his fate by
then, slumping in a corner of the trap. “What a terrible fate it is
that brought me here, stumbling into you lot of deceivers? I have
never despised a race more than you Louchropan. Smug, do-gooders.”
He laughed looking at his feet in defeat. “I did not create all the
stories. I have been on the road a long time since I fled Renir.
Visited many places and met many people. Tales are told of me in
the Great city of Shann, there I am loved!” he looked up again at
the gathering crowd, “But here I am despised.” His eyes narrowed on
Garrets now. “Only, you have not yet got a reason to despise me so.
I will give you that reason when I return. I will have vengeance
and rid Northland of you knee-high vermin. Restoring it back to
beauty and human kind one more. I Pity you rats! Rats, RATS!” He
spat the words at the crowd who were now leering and hissing at him
in his cage.

Garret remained calm. A smile on his face,
Smug and full of self-righteousness. He was basking in a victory
now, against all his father had taught him but he basked still “I
can’t say for certain. But I know from experience that but one
wrong turn often undoes the fullness of our progress. Your quest of
thieving ends here, Oisin.”

The crowd continued to hiss at Oisin as he
was pulled from his cage. He fought and kicked While still
screaming at them. Calling them vermin and rats, swearing his
revenge and cursing families and taking extra time to curse the
mothers of every luchorpán present in colourful and descriptive
ways.

I felt a pulling then. Like someone waking
you from a dream. The bright and contrasting colours faded to
pastilles then to a dim white. I saw them being ripped from my
vision plunging me into darkness. The smell arrived again, old
book, library, sand and sea water. The sent of the ocean breeze
began to stale, like ice cream curdling in the sun in fast time.
The smell became putrid and the aroma of urine and old pub
returned. My body gagged and I stepped back. My eyes opened just as
I began to fall backwards onto the wooden decking of the Rat bottle
Inn floor. Abe gasped and rushed to see me, not that he could have
been any real help. If I were to have landed on him it would surly
have been his hour to meet his death. Fortunately it was a table
and a banister that caught my fall. I grabbed out with instinct and
managed to steady myself before I reached the floor. My legs were
numb at first then pins and needles awoke my senses. Tessa barked
and ran over to me licking my hand and jumping up with her paws on
my shoulders, she licked my face and put her forehead up against
mine. “Its k girl, I was only gone for a moment!” I re-assured
her,

“Less than a moment to be precise” Commented
Abe and he pulled a stool up to the table I was slumped over. He
knocked on the wood, vibrations running into my head. My teeth
chattered every time he pounded on the table.

“Do you see now, does it makes sense?” He
said softly.

“I’m trying to make sense of it all Abe, Its
just a bit much you know?” I sat up, resting against the banister.
Tessa had calmed down and was sitting at my feet, curled up into a
ball. “So, ok. Oisin escaped the prison here, He blames you and
Garret for all the bad things that happened to him?” Abe nodded, I
went on, it wasn’t all done, “Then, after I met him, he was on his
way to the village to seek revenge on your son. Garret must have
bumped into Sarah at the same time he was being pursued. So you
think Sarah is With Garret and being hunted now by Oisin? That’s it
right?” I gasped for breath, I felt like I was explaining the last
two weeks of Coronation street drama to someone new to the show. I
would like to take this moment to irritate the fact that I do not
now, or ever have, watched Coronation Street religiously, or any
other soap opera for that matter.

Just FYI.

Abe smiled, a creepy smile that spilled
across his face like the head of a badly poured pint, spilling over
and running down the side. He was impressed I believe. I am sure
that he knew this was a lot for me to take in and to catch up with.
I can’t imagine anyone else dealing with this much shit being
thrown at them over such a short time period. My head swam like…To
be honest swam wasn’t really the correct word, Drowned would fit
better in this analogy. My head felt as though it was drowning in
the possibilities and the still-to-be-done. It was slightly
re-assuring to have options before me. I had a direction and a
clear line of sight to where I should be heading. Maybe not
physically but I knew who I was searching for. If I were to find
Garret, or Oisin, I am sure that I could find Sarah.

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