The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1) (19 page)

And there we stood, wordless, his arms wrapped
protectively around me.  I couldn’t help but think that this is where I was
meant to be, always.  With Bram, wherever that might be.

The storm came to a close, with the sun reflecting
through the glistening needles of the pines.  Droplets of rain created
prisms of color everywhere.  I quickly grabbed my phone and took about a
dozen pictures.  Then I held it out in front of me and snuggled into Bram
once more and snapped a shot of the two of us.  Bram laughed when I showed
him the pic, then immediately grabbed his phone and took one too. 

We quietly walked around the soaked area, taking
in its beauty.  I looked over at Bram, who had his hands in his pockets
and was inhaling deeply, filling his lungs with the fresh air.  I joined
him and ran my arm through his.

“So did your grandfather pass away after he shifted
that last time?” I texted.

Bram shook his head no.  “It was weird. 
He actually got better.  Da thought maybe the lightning strike did
something to the disease.  He had a couple more good years.  Didn’t
shift anymore and he turned the pendant over to me, but I never tried changing
until he passed away a year and a half ago.  He got sick again and lost a
lot of his memory.  Grandmother and Da took care of him.  He died at
home.”

Bram pulled his hand out of his pocket and took
hold of mine.  “I shifted for the first time the day of his funeral. 
I’m still figuring it all out.”

I rested my head against his shoulder. “I wish I
could have met him…and Shannah,” I typed.

Bram sat down on a boulder and patted the spot
next to him.  “You’d have loved her, and she really loved you.  Da
got pretty close to her when Lucy left.  He said she talked about you a
lot, had visions of you.   She felt like she knew you. “

I sat down next to Bram. 

“Since meeting you in person seemed impossible,”
he continued, “Shannah shared the details about her shifting with Da.  She
never did lose hope of meeting you, though.  She even tried to convince
your grandpa to go to the US for a visit…but Conor wouldn’t hear of it.

“Then when Lucy told her about her decision to
move to Italy, Shannah panicked.  She begged Lucy not to go, said that her
moving would weaken the Triquetra and leave us all vulnerable.  But Lucy
was tired of ‘carrying the burden.’  Shannah told Lucy to at least pass
the ability on to someone else, since Lucy had no relatives.  She said no,
that she didn’t want to curse anyone else with it.”

“So when she left, did she take the pendant with
her?”  I asked, pondering Lucy’s decision and even sympathizing with her.

“No, and that’s part of the problem.  As long
as the pendant remained in Lucy’s possession – or at least in the possession of
someone she had passed the ability on to – the Triquetra remained whole. 
When she left here, without the pendant and without passing it on to a
guardian, the circle was broken.”

Trembling began in my legs and slowly rose up my
torso.  A deep sense of dread washed over me.  “Where is the pendant,
then?”  My brows pinched into a frown.

Bram took in a deep breath then rubbed his
eyes.  “That’s the question.  Da called her shortly after Shannah
died to tell her the news. He asked her if she still had the pendant.  She
said she visited Shannah when she came back to Ireland for more of her things
and turned it over to her then. She wanted to be through with all of it.”

“Do you believe her?” I asked, becoming aware of
the sky once again darkening.

“Da does. No reason not to.  She really just
wanted out.  The question is, where did Shannah put it and why didn’t she
tell Da.”

A thought raced across my mind which caused the
trembling to literally shake me to my feet.  “Bram, this must have
something to do with the questions surrounding Grandma’s death, right?  I
mean, the police found something that made them exhume her body.  Grandma
was in good health, then suddenly she became ill.  Could it be that the
illness came about because of the opening of the Triquetra?” 

Before Bram could even answer, a tremendous boom
from the clouds sent us back to the ramshackle building for shelter.  The
sky opened up to a deluge and the temperature dropped drastically.  The
rain was falling sideways in sheets and protection was nowhere to be found.

Bram grabbed my hand. “We’d better make a run for
it. This feels wrong; something’s going on here.” His voice grew louder over
the angry sky.  I tucked the fragile box and key carefully into my pack
and nodded.

We began running down the incline which was
already slippery from the deluge being unleashed.  Both of us had a hard
time maintaining our footing on the slope.  A flash of lightning split a
nearby pine in two and started a small fire on its branches which was quickly
extinguished by the rain.  I looked over at Bram, fearful that the
lightning might once again have been aimed at him. We continued on with
difficulty. Between the sudden cold and the relentless downpour, we were
finding it almost impossible to keep our footing. 

Straight ahead I could make out a large rock
formation which had a crevice that we might be able to fit in.  I tugged
on Bram’s sleeve and pointed over to the boulders.  He nodded and we made
our way to the shelter.  We both were able to slide into the crevice,
which opened itself up to a small cave.  The smell was terrible. It was
from bat droppings lining the cave wall.  I gagged and tried to hold my
breath.

Bram did the same, then pulled me close. 
“Willow, we’ve got to get out here.  It’ll take too long if we try to walk
out. The storm isn’t showing any sign of stopping and I’ve got a bad
feeling.”  The worried look on his face sent another chill through
me.  I looked toward the opening of the cave and felt a twinge of panic at
the darkening sky, realizing it wasn’t only from the clouds; night was fast
approaching.

“I have an idea.” He turned his face to mine. “I
think we need to shift.”

My head jerked back involuntarily in
surprise.  “Shift?  Shapeshift? How will that help?”

“Think about it,” he spoke loudly in my ear. 
“How much faster will we be able to go once we’ve shifted?”

I stared at his dark resolute eyes, “I guess… I
should be able to do ok in the storm, but what about you?  How can you fly
in this?” I said, mouthing the last sentence slowly.

A huge smile crossed his face, almost like I’d
issued him a challenge. 

“Just watch me,” he bellowed, stepping back and
lowering himself to the ground.  At first glance it appeared as though he
was curling up into a ball but then I realized he was shifting, making himself
smaller.  He stretched out his arms which lengthened to what must have
been at least eight feet across.  Down and feathers enveloped his arms,
which now took on the shape of wings, then covered the rest of his transformed
body.  His gray-capped head pulled up and turned back, intense brown eyes
looking at me.  He screeched and once again spread the magnificent wings,
flapping and jumping towards the cave opening.

I followed him and watched as he stepped out into
the storm.  His feathered head surveyed the sky; with wings flapping up
and down in anticipation of the lift.  And with one quick jump he was up,
soaring gracefully between trees and circling the small shelter in which I stood. 
Within seconds he was back, perched on a tree in front of the cave.  He
flicked the droplets from his wings and shook his head steadily.  Then he
let out a tremendous screech which pretty much said to me, “Let’s get going.”

I took in a long deep breath. “Ok, ok, I’m
coming,” I answered, then closed my eyes.  I imagined my guardian self,
the wolf, sleek, brownish gray, running through the woods.  As fast as I
imagined myself, I became it.  I looked down at the cave floor and saw the
large paws that were now becoming comfortably familiar.  I shook my head,
releasing droplets of rain that were now surging into the cave.  Another
screech drew my eyes to the waiting eagle perched high in the tree.  He
once again lifted his huge wings and jetted up into the gray overhead.

I stepped out into the woods.  I had the
conjoined awareness of this self and my human self.  We were one and it
felt good.  A quick thought ran through my head:
where had my clothes
gone and the Triquetra key? 
A voice stirring deep inside told me not
to worry…all was as it should be.  And with that, I ran.

The familiarity of the forest was complete and
etched into my brain.  I felt like I knew where everything was and could
find my way around easily. In a short time I made my way to the trail near
where we had parked the car.  I heard the screech from overhead and
immediately understood what Bram was saying to me.  No people were near,
but I still searched out a covered area in which to shift.  I called upon
the image in my mind and, when I opened my eyes, found my drenched human body a
couple of feet away from Bram’s.

He stood facing me, smiling, droplets of water
trickling down his soaked face.  “Now that was fun,” he said running his
hand through his hair.  He shook his head, sending water flying
everywhere.  “Woo Hoo!” he hollered out as he spread his arms.  “I
think I beat you!”

I laughed and ran to him, wrapping my arms around
his neck while he lifted and spun me in circles.  We stumbled our way back
to the only car still sitting in the abandoned parking lot.  Once inside,
Bram blasted the heat; it felt so good. 

“That was a kick.” I turned my head, making sure
he could read my face. 

“Sure was,” he agreed, and then headed off down
the road.

The storm was subsiding again, leaving us feeling
relieved that something more ominous wasn’t on its way.  At least not at
the moment.

I shook off my drenched jacket then changed my
clothes before joining Dad on the balcony.  He sat with his back to me
staring out at the gray landscape.  I slid open the glass door and grabbed
the seat next to him.

“Hi, Dad, how is everything?  Why are you
sitting out here in the cold?” I was nervous because I’d been gone for so long –
plus, I was worried about what news he might have to tell me. An unspoken tone
of sorrow materialized even though his words did not.  I could feel his
anguish as he sat quietly.  I wondered if this also was part of my
newfound ability.

 “Well, any news?”  I asked, squeezing
the rain from my hair.

“Yes,” he answered, staring straight ahead. “First
of all, Conor is actually doing pretty well today.  He knew me.  He
remembered everything about Shannah, as well, and asked about the police
investigation.  He also asked about you.” He looked over at me before
taking hold of his coffee cup.

“Aw, he did?”

“Yep, he wondered if he had dreamed about you
visiting him in the hospital or if it really happened.  He’d like you to
come again.”

“I’d like that too, Dad.  When do you
think?”  I let my arms slip onto the armrest of the chair and relax. 
I was feeling really tired, but was more than willing to do anything that might
help Grandpa.

Dad rubbed the back of his neck.  “Not sure,
hon. I have a few other things to take care of.” 

“So, what did the police say about the …” I had
such a hard time saying the word in relation to Grandma.  It felt so
wrong.

“The exhumation?” Dad’s face pulled up into an
expression of sadness as he shook his head from side to side.  “They’re at
their wit’s end with this, Wils.”

I scooted my chair closer and put my hands on his.
“Why, what did they find out?”

He exhaled a long slow breath, pursing his lips
out before he spoke. “Nothing conclusive.  But what they did find has them
scratching their heads.”

“Oh no. What?”

“Well, your grandma Shannah, hasn’t, um… she hasn’t
begun to show any signs…of decomposition.  Her body is in the exact same
condition it was the day she was buried.  The forensics team can’t find
any explanation for it,” he paused, then looked over exhaling another deep
breath.

He then described the state Grandma’s body should
be in at this point in time after her death. Apparently, she was nowhere near
that.  In fact, he explained, her body was like that of someone who had
just
passed away.  Grandpa had opted not to have her embalmed, so the fact that
she was so well preserved was astonishing.

Dad even told me about going into the morgue and
seeing for himself.  He said it was as though she was just sleeping. 
I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for him. When we first arrived in
Ireland for the funeral, Dad chose not to go to the mortuary and “view”
Grandma, as they call it.  He said he wanted to remember her the way she
was the last time he saw her. 

After filling me in, he left the balcony and
grabbed the phone.  He shut himself up in the bathroom where he could
speak to Mom in private.

I felt powerless to help Dad or Conor.  Part
of me wanted to go see Grandma myself.  I now felt such a connection to
her.  I knew there’d be no way Dad would allow it; plus, I was ambivalent,
unsure if I could handle seeing her that way. 

I sat on the balcony with the door open, first
listening to the low mumble coming from the bathroom and then trying to figure
out how everything fit together…if it even did.  Did the Triquetra have
something to do with Grandma’s condition?  It had to be why she wasn’t …
ugh, I hated even thinking it, but it was true… it had to be why she wasn’t
decomposing.  I wondered if Bram or his father knew anything about that,
then quickly decided they had to.  Bram’s Dad knew the entire lineage of
the guardians so, he must have been aware of the fact that the guardian’s
bodies remained unchanged after death.  Or was he?

“I have a question for you,” I texted Bram.

“Go ahead.”

“Do you or your father know anything about what
happens to people like us after they die?”

No answer.

“Bram?” I shot another text.

No answer.

I was just about ready to give up when his text
came through.  “Can I come by?”

“Yes.”

I tapped on the bathroom door and let Dad know I
was meeting Bram outside and hurried down.  I jumped into his car, where
we sat for the next hour.

“Why did you ask that, Willow?” he asked.

He watched intently as I told him the story Dad
had just shared with me.  Questions came up about the guardians: 
“What happens after they die?  Does the body remain the same?”

“When you texted me, I spoke to Da and asked him
that very thing.” He ran his hands over the steering wheel as he spoke. “When a
guardian dies, it should be the same as when anyone else dies.  After
they’ve passed their ability on, they’re free of their duty to the
Triquetra.  Their human form returns to the earth, like all life
does.  The fact that Shannah’s body isn’t…well, that’s a concern.”

“You mean to tell me, then, that this isn‘t normal
for shifters?”  I wondered aloud, meeting Bram’s unrelenting stare.

He raised his eyebrows.  “No, after death
we’re like everyone else; like I said, we return to the earth.  Da is
wondering if the whole Lucy thing and the missing pendant has something to do
with Shannah.  The Triquetra is no longer whole.” 

“But Lucy is still alive, still around; you said
that the guardians don’t need to be here to protect.”

“Aye, but Lucy’s share of the Triquetra is still
missing, remember?   So, now, the intertwining domains of earth,
ocean, and sky are no longer connected and won’t be again until her pendant is
found and a guardian for the ocean is appointed.” Bram’s eyes grew large with
his words.

“So what does that mean? That when we find the pendant
then we have to get Lucy to return?”  My lips quivered as I spoke,
overwhelmed with all we needed to do.

“We just need to find the pendant, getting Lucy to
come back isn’t necessary, as long as we have the pendant Da can appoint a new
guardian.  Without it, though, we’re not in a good place.” Bram looked
over his shoulder to watch a passing couple, then returned his stare to me.

“But Bram, what will happen if we don’t find
it?  And what is it we’re protecting anyway?”  I found myself almost
yelling the question as I typed.

Bram bit his lower lip as he read my text. “I told
you about Lugh.”

“Right, the god who forged the jewelry of the
Triquetra,” I texted.

“Aye.  Lugh made those pieces, and with the
help of other gods, created special abilities.   Our shifting comes
without any help from the pendant.  It’s just part of being a
guardian.  The pendants are another story, though.  They carry
specific abilities to help each guardian. 

“Lugh did this to forever protect and keep the Eye
of Balor from falling into the wrong hands.”  Bram leaned in close and
spoke almost in a whisper, all the while looking over his left shoulder, then
his right.

“Eye of Balor?” I found myself looking over my
shoulder, mimicking Bram.

“Ok, another quick lesson in Irish mythology: 
Balor was a Fomorian, which, remember… is a race of evil deities that lived in
ancient Ireland.  They were made up of giants, elves, and even pirates
along with other creatures.  Legend says the Fomorians lived on Tory
Island, which is off the northwest coast.  Balor was one of the Fomorian’s
greatest warriors.  He was a giant, one-eyed monster who was given the
power to cause death by a druid who cast a spell on him.  His enormous eye
would kill anyone looking at it.  He could wipe out whole armies with a
single glance. He became known as Balor of the Evil Eye.

“Now back to Lugh…he was the grandson of
Balor.  Lugh was also a powerful warrior and one of the Tuatha De Danann
and the god of light.  He was one of three infants born to Balor’s
daughter but the only one to survive.  Balor thought the three babies had
died after he ordered them to be thrown into a whirlpool.”

“Why did he want to kill them?” I wondered.

“Balor had been foretold of his own death at the
hands of a grandson, so he locked his daughter in a tower to prevent anyone
from getting to her. Cian, another member of the Tuatha De Danann, snuck into
the tower and Balor’s daughter fell in love with him.  Cian wanted revenge
against Balor because he had stolen Cian’s magical cow.”  Bram stopped and
took a deep breath and shook his head. “But that’s a whole other story,” he
added.  “You still with me?”

“Yeah, I think so.  Ok, so, he threw the
babies into a whirlpool thinking that the grandson that would kill him would
die, then he himself wouldn’t be killed.”  I took in a deep breath then
noticed the windows were fogging up –just like my brain.

“Right, but Lugh was rescued and raised in secret.
He was a powerful craftsman and able to create magical weapons that were said
to always hit their mark.  He made a spear which he used to kill Balor by
throwing it at him.  It went through the front of his eye and made its way
out the back of his head.”

I groaned, imagining the whole gory scene.

“After Lugh blinded his grandfather by throwing
the spear into his eye, Balor was then killed and beheaded.  Lugh removed
and took possession of the Eye.”

“So then, if Balor was killed, how is it the Eye
is still powerful – or is it?”  I asked.

Bram rubbed his forehead nodding, “Oh yes, it’s
powerful. After Balor was killed, his grandfather Neit, the Fomorian war god,
called on the battle goddesses Nemain and Badb to cast the most powerful spell
available to them.  Along with Neit, they filled the Eye of Balor with
hexes and spells capable of creating catastrophic disasters.

“Lugh, unable to block the actions of the battle
gods, did the next best thing. He fashioned the Triquetra and shaped it into
three pendants which place a hold on the Eye of Balor and prevent it from ever
being used.  He then chose three human guardians and gave them his
creations.  The humans were blessed with powers by the Tuatha in order to
carry out Lugh’s plan. Lugh was unable to fully destroy the Eye, but he did
create a shield of protection from it.  Us.”  Bram sat back in his seat. 

“So, you’re saying our ancestors have been
standing watch over this ‘Eye of Balor’ for hundreds of years?”  I typed
quickly on my keypad.

The corner of Bram’s mouth worked its way into a
half-grin as he shrugged. “More like thousands of years. Incredible…I know.”

I eased back into the car seat, half-forgetting
where I even was.  The story was fantastic and difficult to wrap my head
around.  I sat there quietly for several minutes, motionless and
numb.  When I finally turned my head, Bram was also reclined, resting against
the cushion, eyes closed.  I touched his hand and pulled it to my cheek.

He smiled and gently stroked my face. The thought
that Bram and I were now joined in this larger-than-life mission was both
frightening and exhilarating.  We had our own special secret from the
world.  It felt as if this secret, which brought us together, would keep
us together, no matter what.  At least I hoped so.

Making my way back to our hotel room, I felt as
though I was wading through molasses.  I walked slowly, completely lost in
thought, and even found myself standing still a couple of times, only to be
aroused by a passing guest.  When I finally reached the room, I paused a
minute and listened to Dad’s phone conversation.  He was on the balcony
explaining everything to Uncle Eagan.  I entered the room and plopped down
on the bed, completely exhausted and feeling somehow transformed…like I was a
different person.

I closed my eyes and focused on his words, trying
to think of a plausible explanation for why my grandmother was still in the
same physical condition as the day she died.  The fact that Bram and his
father were stumped concerned me even more.  After all, this was part of
their lives – nothing new, not really anyway.  Triquetra, Lugh, Balor,
were all things they’d lived with and had time to digest.  My brain was
still in denial mode, telling me none of this could be real.  I mean, come
on, mythology was just that… myth, legend, not real.

A flashback of my transformation in the bathroom
left me realizing I needed to stop trying to analyze it all and accept my
fate.  I sat up, took in a deep breath and relaxed my muscles. 
Immediately I felt better, stronger.

 I went over to the table to look for the
claw I’d left lying there.  It sat under some papers Dad had scattered all
over, which led me to believe he hadn’t even seen it.  That was
good.  I grabbed the claw and held it in the palm of my hand. A boom of
thunder sounded outside which made me jump.  I looked out the window to
see the clear sky, no sign of clouds or an approaching storm.  I looked
back at the claw and watched as it rose off of my hand, into the air, and grew
transparent.  Then in a flash, it disappeared.  I stood there with my
palm still outstretched, staring at the empty space.  Small iridescent
specks of dust fell to the ground from my hand.  I blinked my eyes in
disbelief.

Dad returned to the room as the last few remaining
particles disappeared.  He stepped over and hung up the phone.  He
hadn’t seen the claw vanish. We stared at each other for a few seconds. 

“What’s going on, Dad, what are the police
planning to do?” I asked, wiping my hand on my jeans.

“They’re still running a series of tests. 
They can’t understand how someone who’s been deceased for that amount of time
could be in the condition she’s in.” He sat at the table and began rifling
through the papers.

“Did they find anything that would point to
Grandma dying mysteriously, you know, like a poison or something like that?” I
sat down next to him.