The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1) (10 page)

“C’mon, Willow,” he said, shaking his hand.

I rose hesitantly and followed him to the dance
floor.  There was no one else out there and the music hadn’t started
yet.  I felt really awkward until I looked up at Bram.

“Just follow my lead,” he leaned down and
whispered in my ear.

The band counted down 3, 2, 1 and then Dutch began
plucking at his guitar a soft, tender melody.  His voice soon joined in
with the haunting familiar tune…”I don’t know you but I want you all the more
for that, words fall through me and always fool me and I can’t react.”

Bram placed his arm around my waist and held my
hand up to his chest, pulling me closer.  He leaned down and sang the
first verse in my ear, swaying to the melody. He hadn’t missed a beat; his
voice blended with Dutch’s perfectly, in sync with the melody of the song. “I
don’t know you but I want you all the more for that, words fall through me and
always fool me and I can’t react.”  I then focused on his lips watching
him draw out each memorized word and the note it carried.  He was singing
what was quite possibly one of my all-time favorite songs.

“Falling Slowly,
” I whispered. 

He nodded leading us closer to the speaker. “Close
your eyes, feel the vibration passing through the air, let it encompass your
body.”

I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on
vibration rather than sound, on feeling more than hearing or seeing.  It
was hard at first, but then I became acutely aware of Bram’s hand at my
waist.  His fingers seemed to have an energy that carried the
melody.  I then picked up on the reverberation of Dutch’s amplified voice
on my back.  My skin began to tingle, like it was becoming some kind of a
receptor to all the sounds floating through the dark, cavernous club. 

When the chorus began and Dutch harmonized with
the other guitar player, my skin began to grow goose bumps. “Take this sinking
boat and point it home, we’ve still got time…raise your hopeful voice, you have
a choice you make it mine.  Falling slowly, eyes that know me and I can’t
go back…”

I opened my eyes and focused on Bram’s chiseled
features in the dimly lit room.  He was smiling. It felt as though we were
the only two people in the world.  We stood and stared at each other as
the song came to a close, our eyes once again locked, our bodies swaying with
the tempo.   Cheers from the audience brought me back to planet earth
as I grabbed Bram’s hand and led him back to our table.

Quinn and Kelleigh were both staring at us when we
sat down.

“What?” Bram asked, beating me to the punch.

“Nothing.” Quinn smirked and focused his attention
back on stage.  Kelleigh grinned and raised her eyebrows.

Bram reached his arm around the back of my chair
and pulled it closer to his.  I had never felt like this before.  There
was something inexplicable about him, something so real and honest and
familiar.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it felt like I’d
known Bram for a whole lot longer than just a few days.  And suddenly I
was very glad I wasn’t going home tomorrow.

I woke to the sound of Dad taking a shower. 
I slowly sat up, running my hands through my hair, releasing the bedtime
tangles, and smiled to myself.  My mind was recapturing all the events of
the evening before, leaving me feeling on cloud nine.  Before I was able
to truly get lost in my memories, the phone rang.  It was Uncle Eagan.

“Good morning, darlin’, how are you this fine
morning?” his muffled voice asked.

“I’m great, Uncle Eagan; how are you?”

“Can’t complain, can’t complain,” he chuckled.
“And how’s you dear father?”  A tinkling sound came through the phone that
left me picturing him stirring his cup of coffee.

“Uhm, well he’s in the shower –” I began.

“Don’t disturb him, darlin’; please just let him
know we’re set up to meet with Detective Powers at 10:30 this a.m.”

“Oh, all right, does he know where to meet you?”

“Indeed he does. I’m happy to hear you’re going to
stay on with your father. I hope I’ll be seeing you later…”  Eagan’s voice
trailed off as though he had been interrupted by something.

“Ok, Uncle Eagan… good-bye.”  I jumped up,
grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater, got dressed, and waited for Dad. 
After I relayed the message to him he suggested I stay at the hotel until he
got back; he didn’t want me going to the police station.  I was fine with
that.  I didn’t  want to go either.

“Why don’t you give Kelleigh a call and go hang
out with her?” Dad offered as he buttoned the cuffs on his crisp white shirt.

“Can’t do that, she’s at school until one. 
But it’s ok. I can find something to do around here.”

“Ok, Wils, I shouldn’t be too long, there’s some
cash on the dresser if you want to go out.” Dad leaned over and kissed my cheek
before grabbing his jacket and leaving the room.

I sat in my usual spot, in front of the window,
plopped my feet on the window frame and began texting my friends back
home.  I had only talked to them once since I’d been here and wanted to
make sure and reconnect.  I didn’t want them thinking I would be home when
it was going to be another week before I got back.

Right in the middle of texting Sam, another call
came in.  I quickly finished my message and checked my inbox.  It was
Bram.  Just seeing his name sent off the butterflies in my stomach
.
Knock it off,
I ordered,
it’s just a message
. I anxiously read his
text.

Hi WW, I’m done with class, u busy?

                               
No, just hanging, dad has a meeting w/police

Want to get together?

 I felt that all-too-familiar rush of color
attacking my face again and was happy to be alone and unconcerned as to whether
or not anyone saw it.  I stared at his text for a few minutes, trying to
decide what to say.  Before I knew it my fingers betrayed me by typing an
answer without even giving my brain time to process.

                              
Sure, any suggestions?

I have an idea, see u ½ hour

                              
K

I jumped up, headed to the bathroom and tried to
regain control of my out-of-control hair.  The humidity in Killarney was
killer for the frizzies.  Somehow I managed to get a brush through it and
decided to just pull it all back into a ponytail and let it hang
mid-back.  I stared at myself in the mirrors reflection and turned my head
this way and that, surprised at how much I resembled Grandma with my hair that
way.  I pulled the ponytail and draped it over my shoulder the way it had
been in the pictures I’d seen of her.  It was kind of a shock.  I
always knew I favored Dad, but this just reaffirmed it – and now I could see
how much he resembled his mother.

I then wondered how he would feel about me going
off with Bram.  More teasing would be imminent, I was sure.  I
grabbed a piece of paper and left him a quick note telling him where I was and
to call me when he got back to the hotel. 

I pulled the chair back away from the window so I
could keep an eye out for Bram’s arrival. I wanted to see him first without him
seeing me.  And then I did.  He came out of the shadows walking on
the sidewalk leading to the hotel.  He had on jeans and a green t-shirt. 
He was pulling a hoodie over his head as he walked.  He mussed his hair
and knocked his sunglasses off in the process.  I laughed; it was nice to
see him be less than perfect.  Within a few short minutes he was knocking
on the door.

After a quick check in the mirror I took in a deep
breath and reminded myself,
He’s only a boy, nothing so special about that.
And I believed it – until I opened the door, that is.  There he stood,
looking even more special than ever.

I saluted
Hello
and motioned for him to
come into the room.

He smiled. “Hello to you too.  How’re you
doing today?”

“Very well,” I answered, making sure he could see
my mouth. “You?”

“Good.”

An awkward silence took over while we both
stumbled for something to say. Then Bram recovered nicely. “Sorry if I’m staring…”
he spoke, almost in a whisper, “it’s just…you’re very pretty.”

It attacked again.  Only this time there was
no hiding it.  I reached up and touched my cheek.  “You make me
blush,” I smiled. “And thank you. You look nice too.”

He broke out in a laugh and grabbed my hand.
“Well, now that we’re through with the mutual admiration, shall we go?”

“Sure, where to?” I stammered, hoping he’d be able
to make out my question.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” he answered,
tapping the tip of my nose.

We climbed into what appeared to be a brand-new
black SUV with plush seats and all the latest gadgets.  It even had that
new-car smell. “Is this yours?” I asked curiously.

He shook his head no.  “My da’s.  He
sells cars. This is one of the benefits of having a father who co-owns a car
lot. I get to test drive all the new rides, er, cars, I mean.”

I snuggled back into the rich upholstery and
became fascinated by the control panel.  A NASA spaceship probably didn’t
have all the knobs and dials that this thing did.  Bram hooked up his iPod
to the dash and turned up the volume.  It was classical, but I couldn’t
tell you who.  I liked classical music but was anything but schooled in
the genre. 

“Too loud?” he questioned with raised eyebrows.

Without lifting my head from the rich brown
leather seat I shook my head no.  Bram laughed again.  Apparently I
amused him; he seemed to laugh at me a lot. 

I reached up to my neck and began gently fingering
the Triquetra necklace.  I made a point of wearing it every day since the
day Dad gave it to me.  I reminded myself to later ask Bram more about the
symbol.

I couldn’t believe how relaxed I was
feeling.  It was the first time since arriving in Ireland that I felt this
comfortable.  I wasn’t sure if it was the luxurious seats, the ridiculously
gorgeous car, or the ridiculously gorgeous driver.  At any rate, I was
thoroughly enjoying the drive and not terribly concerned about where we were
going. 

The scenery outside the ostentatious
transportation was even more breathtaking.  As we headed beyond the city
limits, the rural countryside quickly took over: rolling green hills were
littered with cottages and grazing animals.  This was the Ireland I had
imagined.  And, most importantly, this was the first time I wasn’t
interpreting dreams or racking my brain for explanations for bizarre events
that came right out of the Twilight Zone.  I was completely and utterly
relaxed.  Being with Bram was like being at home in my most comfy
clothes. 

I looked over at him and watched while he paid close
attention to the road, checking his side and rear view mirrors, then the
speedometer.  He was a very conscientious and careful driver.  Dad
would be impressed. 

After about half an hour we took a turn onto a
gravel road.  The foliage was overgrown and had practically regained
possession of the path.  I worried that the car might get scratched from
all the branches reaching out to touch it, but Bram didn’t seem too
concerned.  Three crazy hairpin turns later we left that jungle and pulled
into an incredible manicured driveway with giant cone-shaped evergreen trees
that reached at least fifteen feet into the sky. 

The driveway curved and obscured the view from
what might be waiting at the end.  But after a sharp left turn, it opened
up to a stadium-sized parking lot.  Behind it, sat the most amazing castle
I’d ever seen – well, the only castle I’d ever seen, up close, that is.  I
stared, mesmerized by the sheer size of the ancient structure.  It was so
massive both ways, in height and width.  The doorway, which was probably
about twenty feet away from where we sat, looked infinitesimal in comparison to
the stone walls that enveloped it.  Bram was out and opening my door
before I knew it.

“Well?” he asked, forehead wrinkled in
anticipation.

“Wow, this…is…incredible!” I mouthed slowly for
his sake and out of sheer amazement at my surroundings.

He grinned and held out his hand.  I quickly
grabbed hold and we walked to the entrance. The door was ajar and I could hear
voices echoing from inside.  We stepped in slowly and became a part of a
large group of tourists getting ready to set off on a guided tour of the
castle.

Bram leaned in close. “Do you want to do a tour,
or would you rather I just show you about?”

I glanced over at the twenty-plus group and
listened for a second to a mix of languages, from German to French to Chinese
or something close to it.  The thought of having to share this with a
group left me with the one, very obvious choice. 

“
You
show me about…please,” I whispered as
I tapped his chest with my finger.

Bram grabbed my hand, and led me to the reception
desk where he paid for our entrance and grabbed a brochure describing the
castle, along with a map of the grounds.  We found our way to a large
staircase where Bram explained, in amazing detail, the history of not only the
castle, but of Ireland.  We went from room to room, his voice resonating
within the granite walls. 

“This particular castle belonged to the McGarry
family, who built it back in 1453.  Up until 1879 it remained in that
family.  Then it was turned over to the Lutz family after the McGarry’s were
unable to pay off a debt.  That family had it only about ten years when
the owner, Sir Juhon Dawnes, drowned after falling into Lake Iris. The County
took control of it and made it into the home for Clary’s Governor.  In
1980, the powers that be didn’t feel that the local registry ought to be living
in a castle – gave the wrong impression, ya know – so they turned it over to
the Preservation Society who made it into the museum you see today.” His voice
was confident and strong.  I couldn’t help but be impressed with the fact
he knew so much about the castle.

At this point we had made our way out to the
gardens.  Bram spotted a bench nestled among various shrubs and bushes and
suggested we sit.  The setting was gorgeous… breathtaking, not only its
beauty but its history as well. 

“The plant life here is quite old.  Some of
these shrubs date back a hundred years or more.” Bram passed his hand over the
tops of the nearby bushes.

The sun was just beginning to give way to a
massive cluster of clouds, but continued highlighting the spot we sat,
illuminating the crimson berries still clinging to the branches.  Bram
reached back and bent the stem of the berry-laden shrub, severing its ties to
the hundred-year-old bush then handed it to me.  I drank in the aroma,
surprised that the small berries could smell so heavenly.

“Bram, is this Ross Castle?”  I
wondered.  Dad had mentioned that he would show me Ross Castle, a popular
tourist site.

“No, this is Brigham Castle.  Ross is in
Killarney National Park.  I thought you may enjoy this one since it’s a
bit less recognized, not as many folks come here to visit.  I prefer
coming here instead of Ross because of its history.”

“Can I ask you something?”  I said slowly,
staring into his eyes.

“Sure, anything,” he answered.

“Your name…Bram.  It’s so different.  Is
it short for something?”

Bram smiled and nodded.  “Well, yes and
no.  My da’s favorite author is Bram Stoker…you know who that is, right?”

I thought for a minute then remembered where I’d
seen the name before.  “Yes.” I raised my hands in an oogey-boogey move.
“Count Dracula,” I answered, doing my best vampire imitation.

Bram laughed. “Right, Count Dracula, definitely
one of his most famous works.  Da wanted to name me after him. Although
his full name is Abraham Stoker, Da and Mum decided to just go with Bram.”

A soft breeze began to pick up as he spoke, gently
tousling his hair.  His russet eyes shifted back and forth between me and
the environment, like he needed to be aware at all times of his
surroundings.  I wondered if that was part of his deafness.

“Tell me more about this castle,” I motioned back
to the historic building towering behind us.

“When Sir Juhon took over the castle, he lived
alone in it for a few years.  People didn’t know if he was dead or alive;
months would go by without anyone seeing him. Once, after he’d been away, he
reappeared with a wife, Mauve.  Took her into town and introduced her to
everyone.  There’s an article about it in the old Clary town
newspaper.  She became a big part of the community and formed a botanical
society that was responsible for the preservation of many of the native plants.
People loved her; she’d open the castle on holidays and invite everyone
in. 

“Then one summer, Juhon went away again and Mauve
stayed to coordinate a celebration they were having for the town’s reverend and
his family.  The story says that she went over to Ross Castle to extend an
invite to the Donohue’s, who lived there at the time.  While she was
there, Ellie Donohue persuaded her to take a walk into the woods to see a new
variety of holly.  That was the last anyone saw of her.  Her buggy
had been parked and footprints were visible for a good ten kilometers into the
park, then just stopped.” Bram turned to face me squarely. “Legend is, she was
taken by the forest people.”  He squinted his eyes, “The wee people, you
know?”