Tyger Tyger (31 page)

"Thanks." Teagan typed up her notes on Cindy and Oscar before she headed home. It was strange how different the city seemed, knowing the people sitting beside her on the bus could be angels, Travelers, goblinkind ... or something completely different.

The day before, when she'd walked to the store, there'd been an old couple shuffling along the sidewalk together half a block away. She'd turned her head for a tenth of a second, and when she looked back they were right behind her, staring with hungry black eyes, like a couple of octogenarian vampires.

Teagan had walked away quickly, and then flat-out run, but no matter how fast she went, they were always right behind her when she stopped and turned around.

And then she'd crossed a street and they were—
poof!
—gone. Teagan had asked Mamieo about the creatures, but the old lady had never heard of anything like them.

There are more things in the multiverse, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

 

Mamieo and Roisin were changing Thomas's bandages on the cot in the alcove when Teagan got home. Aiden and Lennie were in the living room arranging entire armies of Lego men that had been displaced when Thomas took over the den of boyhood.

"Aiden, what's in your hair?" Teagan asked. It looked like he'd sprinkled himself with red, green, and yellow confetti.

"The tooth fairy did it," Lennie explained. "Aiden says not to be afraid, even if you can't see her."

"The tooth fairy?"

Lucy flew into the room carrying a red M&M. She settled into her nest in Aiden's curls, cracked the candy shell expertly against her knee, then proceeded to peel it as if it were a hard-boiled egg, dropping the shell bits into Aiden's hair. The tooth
fairy. Of course.

"Dad's still rebooting," Aiden said. "He's in the kitchen. Abby's asleep. She said she didn't sleep last night because of nightmares, so not to wake her up
or else.
"

Raynor had said that Mr. Wylltson's mind was sorting through the memories it had left, using them to help fill in missing bits and pieces. Abby was the one who had decided it was
rebooting.
Teagan found him sitting quietly in the corner where her mom's easel had once stood, reading his old copy of Songs of
Experience.

"Aiden says I've read this before," he said. "I can't remember it, but parts of it feel so
real.
I'm going to ask your mom—"

"Mom's dead, Dad."

"That's right." He ran his hand over his eyes. "I can remember everything about her. Everything but that. I can remember some things, and then ... it's like I've stepped into one of her canvases before she started to paint. All of the
colors
are missing, Tea. All of the shapes. I
know
the picture is supposed to be there, but ... it's not."

Teagan put her arms around him and leaned her cheek on his head.

"You're getting better, Dad."

"Dr. Gorman thinks that reading my old books will help. But it isn't. I'm not finding the pictures that are supposed to be there; I'm just making new ones. And they're not as good. God, I miss your mom."

"It is helping," Teagan said. "You're better than you were yesterday."

Lucy came through the open door, pulled open a cabinet, and disappeared inside. She came out a moment later with another M&M. Teagan gave her dad a hug before she went over to the cabinet. There was no way to explain to the sprite that too much chocolate probably wasn't good for her. They would just have to hide the candy where Lucy couldn't find it. She pulled out the counter drawer ... and stopped.

The duct tape she'd asked Abby to bring for Finn. She'd never given it to him, just shoved it in the drawer when she cleaned up the kitchen. Teagan took the duct tape out, dropped the bag of M&M's in, and shut the drawer.

She couldn't hold it in much longer. She needed somewhere to cry. Teagan stopped in the living room on her way upstairs. There was no way she could just hide, no matter how much she wanted to. Aiden panicked if he thought someone had disappeared.

"I'm going to my Thinking Place," she said. "I don't want to be disturbed—"

"—unless it's a big fat emergency," Lennie said.

"That's right." Tears were already spilling down her cheeks as she went up the stairs. She locked her bedroom door so no one could follow her in. If Aiden needed her, he could just bang on it and wake up Abby, who was curled up on the bed, frowning in her sleep. Teagan tiptoed past her, careful not to let even one sniffle escape, went out the window, and slid it shut behind her.

She made it to the middle of the roof before she collapsed, hugging the duct tape. It seemed like a million years since the day Finn had told Aiden that duct tape could fix anything. Well, it couldn't fix this.

Teagan pulled her knees up, put her head down on them, and let the sobs come. They'd turned to hiccups when something touched her shoulder.

"Tea? Are you all right?"

"Finn!" She whirled to look at the window. It was still closed. "Where did you come from?"

"Came up the drainpipe," he said. "I heard someone crying up here and wondered who it was."

"You climbed up the drainpipe with your hand like that?" It was still wrapped in gauze and tape to help his palm heal.

"I can use two fingers." He wiggled them at her to prove it.

"Here." She wiped her nose on her sleeve, hiccupped, and held out the duct tape.

Finn took it and turned it over a couple of times. "You climbed out on the roof to cry over duct tape?"

"No," Teagan said. "I climbed out on the roof to be alone."

Finn sat down beside her. "You can do that. In a bit. But if you're not crying over the duct tape, what are you crying over?"

"I don't want to hie tell you."

"If you won't talk about it, girl, I guess I'll have to. What Roisin said that night..."

Teagan put her chin on her knees again. "It's true."

"I told you, I knew it was the minute the words left her mouth. It changes a lot of things, doesn't it?"

Teagan nodded.

"I think so, too. There's a Travelers' prayer I learned when I was little: 'I do not
ask for a path with no trouble or regret—'
"

"'I
ask instead for a friend who'll walk with me down any path.'
" Teagan finished his sentence for him.

"You know it, then!" Finn said. "That makes it all easier. So, do you get my meaning, girl?"

"No." He couldn't mean what she thought he meant. She couldn't let him.

"No?" Finn ran his good hand through his hair. "I thought it was plain enough. I'm the Mac Cumhaill, that's the thing, not a word man like your da."

"And I'm a Highborn," Teagan said flatly. "Go back to Mamieo and her Travelers' prayers and leave me alone with my goblin blood."

"Are you thickheaded?" Finn asked. "I know your blood, and the heart that pumps it. I'm saying I'll walk with you down any path, as long as I am able. I'd have told you as much that morning in Mag Mell, but you'd have thought it was my promise to Aiden talking, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe."

"I don't need magic to make me keep my promises."

"I know," Teagan whispered.

"I love you."

"You can't," Teagan said.

"Why not?" Finn said.

"You want to know what I was crying about?"

"I said I did."

"It's because I'm not good like you, Finn. I
am
a goblin. I fed Ginny to the hellhounds. Horrible, nasty Ginny Greenteeth kept her promise, and I
used
her to save my own life. She begged me not to. But I did exactly what Fear Doirich would have wanted me to, didn't I? Killing her was
useful,
just like cousin Kyle said it would be. Will you walk with me down that path, goblin hunter?"

Finn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

"Yes."

Teagan studied her shoes, waiting for him to walk away.

"Look at me, girl."

She looked up.

"I said I love you. That's not changing, no matter what you've done. But I need to know. Is that the path you intend to walk?"

"No," Teagan admitted. "I hate it. I hate what I've done. But I've started down that path, haven't I? It's in my blood."

"You've got choices, like any other creature," Finn said. "You can stumble down that road, pretending you can't help it. You can curl up and die of regret and sorrow for what you've done. Or you can get up and fight, even though the battle might be lost."

"Did Mamieo teach you that?"

"The Boy Scouts," Finn said. "Nothing could take it out of those two old men, not the streets, hunger, rags or curses. They
chose
their lives. They taught me to choose mine. If you start to walk down that path again, I'll do my best to bring you back, girl."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Teagan said. "My family is
goblin,
Finn. I don't want to drag you into it. I can devolve into something like Kyle. Thomas—a guy who killed an angel—is probably my cousin. I won't let you love me."

Finn scratched his head, as if he were considering.

"I may need your permission to kiss you, girl. But I don't need anyone's permission to love you. I choose it of my own free will, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Teagan shook her head. "You still don't get it. I know you thought I was your
a gra ma
whatever—"

"A ghrá mo
chroí','
Finn said. "The love of my heart."

"—but I'm not. What I did in Mag Mell
broke
me inside."

"And isn't it a Fir Bolg's job to mend what's broken, then?"

He reached out and traced a line above her bare arm, his finger an inch from her skin. The electric arc from his fingertip raised goose bumps as it followed his finger down her arm. It made her whole body shiver. "I've been wondering if you felt it, too."

"Yes." It was impossible to argue when she could hardly breathe.

"That's good." Finn nodded. "I'm just not sure what I'm going to do about it."

"
What?
Why not?"

"Because of the talk your da gave me that first day."

"But you asked if you could kiss me after that talk!"

"That's true," Finn said. "I didn't think I needed your da's advice then. I know I need it now. The man's had experience in this sort of thing." A door slammed below them, and Finn stood up.

"In what sort of thing?" Teagan could feel the heat flush her face. "Wait. You didn't ask me if I loved you!"

"Didn't have to." Finn stepped toward the edge of the roof and looked over. "I'm the Mac Cumhaill, remember? I told you I was going to change that plan of yours."

Teagan flushed. "I haven't changed all of it. I'm still headed for Cornell, and I'm not giving that up for anyone. I'll just have to figure out how I can focus on my studies
and
work things out with you."

"This might not be the best time to negotiate the finer points of our relationship," Finn said. He offered her a hand, and pulled her to her feet. "There's matters that need looking after."

"What sort of matters?" Teagan turned to look.

Lennie was standing on the sidewalk, holding Aiden up above his head.

"I see her!" Aiden said, and started waving his arms. "
Tea-gan!
" he shouted. "
Come quick! Thomas is growing feathers!
"

The Goblin Wars books are based on a reimagining of Celtic prehistory and mythology. I have borrowed the stories of Saint Patrick and Saint Drogo, and the life of Myrddin Wyllt, the Welsh bard who became Merlin of legend, as well as the modes and manners of Ireland's gypsies, the Irish Travelers, in order to fasten this story securely in our world.

I am indebted to the young Fionn Mac Cumhaill, the great Celtic hunter/warrior of myth, a paragon of Irish character. While researching this book I devoured the stories of the Finnian Cycle, soundly ignoring the accounts of Fionn's later life, when his character became questionable. Legend has it that Fionn, like King Arthur, will rise again when he is needed—so I didn't think he would mind that I woke him for the telling of this tale.

The Sídhe (pronounced "shee" as in
banshee)
of this book crept out of the shadows all on their own. I knew them before I met them in Irish mythology, and recognized them instantly when I did: a powerful people who fled to another realm when they were defeated by the magic of music and art. These are not fairies or fair folk, but creatures from older, darker tales, noted for malice and the stealing of human children for pleasure or sport.

Please remember that this book is merely a single storyteller's reimagining of what is, what was, and what just might be.

Kersten Hamilton is the author of several picture books and many middle grade novels. She has worked as a ranch hand, a woodcutter, a lumberjack, a census taker, a wrangler for wilderness guides, and an archaeological surveyor. Now, when she's not writing, she hunts dinosaurs in the deserts and badlands of New Mexico. This is her first novel for young adults. For more about Kersten, please visit
www.kerstenhamilton.com
.

I
N THE SECOND VOLUME OF THE
G
OBLIN
W
ARS
T
RILOGY,
THE BATTLE AGAINST GOBLINKIND CONTINUES
...
BUT WHICH SIDE WILL
T
EAGAN BE ON?