Leather and Stone
They stood there, the three of them, as if at an altar. They were each in their own private way praying for inspiration. All that they knew, all that they had before them seemed like the key to any hope that they had to bringing about the only future they could possibly envision. Sean's hands holding the book and Ian's voice propelling them through layers of detail regarding esoteric information. The need to find that future was so visceral, so incredibly palpable that they could almost scent the boys in the air around them, though it was always possible that this came from the clothes that lay there among their discarded belongings. Who knew when the last time was that either one of the boys had given up a pair of socks or a favored jacket to the wash? Emotions ran like bursts of color and sound, bursting and crackling in waves between them, yet no one dared to even touch the articles on the table. It seemed they were waiting. Perhaps they were waiting to be inspired or perhaps just waiting for one of them to have the courage to touch what they longed to touch. It was one of those moments in time where the taking of action would propel them forward, even the smallest of actions, and they sensed this. Hence the hesistant breathing and the collective clawing silence that continued to heighten the tension until it felt like the very air was brittle with it.
Fiona finally, with brutal determination and deliberation, lifted out Ian's iPod. "Perhaps I could eventually get used to that U2 music he seemed to like so much," she said. "I suspect it will grow on me. As I recall there was at least one song that had some historic significance." She looked at the others expectantly. Lin and Roary gazed back at her and then at the table. They reached in and both picked up the book that had been in Sean's things. Catching Roary's gaze, Lin let the book slide from her hand and into his. "I suspect you may understand more of what he was looking for in that than I would," she said. Then she selected one of Ian's notebooks, sliding her hand down the front cover as if feeling for his last touch. Fiona picked up his sketchpad. Their selections made, the trio looked at each other expectantly again.
"Well, I guess now we see what we can make of these," said Fiona. "I suppose we should also think about what might be beyond their things that could help too, but these are a start." She put on the earphones and turned on the iPod. Her face contorting as the music swelled into her ears. It looked like it would be a long time before she learned to appreciate some of Ian's choices.
Lin and Roary moved off to the sofa in front of the now waning fire. She found some paper and pens in case they wanted to take notes, and then settled in with a quilt while he stoked the fire. Over the crackling flames with the last vestiges of the whiskey settling in them, they worked through their respective tomes. Soon all three were busy making random notes and the occasional clucking noise or grunt as they came across something. Whether it was just a bit of humor or something that applied to the predicament the others could not know as no time was spent sharing their individual assessments. As the fire once again burned down, Fiona took off the earphones and neatly put them away along with the iPod on what should have been Ian's bed for the night.
"I think it is time for dinner," she said. "In any event, I can't take anymore of that head-banging and bone jarring stuff the kids call music. You keep on with whatever you have going and I will see what we have that will suffice." From the way she walked, it was clear that she did indeed have a headache. But whether it came from the heavy bass in the music or just from the stress of the day was not clear. Lin got up and retrieved some asprin for her. Fiona accepted them gratefully. The two set to work in the kitchen, all but forgetting the third member of the party who continued on in silence on the sofa. When the dinner was ready they laid out the table. It was a feast of sorts, the meal they had planned for their first day back at the cottage. Salmon rubbed in a garlic, basil and lemon oil served with small potatoes, tomato slices and a creamed spinach. The dessert, an apple cobbler, was simple but looked delicious.
Roary was amazed that they had turned out such a fine meal given the events of the day. And yet, he really wasn't that surprised, it was just the kind of thing he would expect from these two. He was learning to expect the unexpected; it was just the way they seemed to live. The salmon was amazingly fresh and done to the perfect turn. If he had to pick, though, he would pick the cobbler. He could have eaten the entire dish by himself and still have asked for more. It went perfectly with the Irish coffees Fiona had mixed to go with the end of the repast.
As they finished their coffees they discussed a bit of what they had gleaned from their search of the boys' belongings. Roary initiated the conversation. He noted that Sean had placed markers in just a few stories, notably the story of Finn MacCumhaill, Diarmuid and Grania, and the Children of Lir. They all now had an understanding of the basic weavings of the Children of Lir. It was interesting that he had marked the passage for Finn as this story actually connected to the that of Diarmuid and Grania. What he found most compelling was that in the story of Finn MacCumhaill, there was a footnote that told of his first meeting with King Conor and how he met with the great hounds of the court. Fiona interjected here to tell them about several sketches she had found of wolfhounds in Ian's work. Lin added the lengthy description of Ian's encounter with the old man at Coole. It seemed that they had at least found a connection as to the form that was chosen for the boys' transformation.
Fiona was silent for a few moments and then remarked that if she remembered correctly, there was a Rath at the Hill of Tara that was somehow connected to Grania and to Finn MacCumhaill. Lin noted that Ian had a huge amount of information in his notebooks about mounds, raths, cathairs and cairns. Much of his research seemed to be centered on the ancient places where it was anticipated that the Sidhe took refuge or what would be called daoine sidhe sites. He had a lot of information about the throne of Finvarra at Knockma in Connaught and the throne of Queen Aine in Knockany at Munster. He also had a great deal of information about the sidhe deities of Boann, Angus Og and the Dagda all related to the megalithic passage tomb at New Grange. There were a few side notes about something called Lia Fail or the Stone of Destiny, but she was not exactly certain how important that was. Roary stopped her for a moment to interject a comment about a lesser known megalithic tomb at Dowth that was said to be similar in all ways to New Grange, just proportionally smaller. "Apparently there are a number of carvings at the site that still have academicians puzzlin' o'er their meanin'," he said.
Roary closed his eyes for a moment and then rose to pace the length of the cottage. Finally, without turning to look at the others, he related in as few a words as possible his drunken dream of the man and the woman at the edge of the sea. "I have no idea if this means anything or not," he added at the end of his tale. "But, the vision of that dream seems so vera' real." He walked then to the door and opened it to the night and the newly risen moon.
Fiona and Lin took a moment to let his dream sink in and take its place with all of the other events of the day and the far-flung tales from the books and journals. It seemed very likely that the dream was a part of the puzzle. How did it fit in?
Lin rose and crossed over to Roary, nudging him out the door so that they could share the moon. Fiona joined them. Standing there, three statues in the moonlight, a testament to the connection between the elements and the celestial, to the known and the unknowable, they let the moment cradle them.
"Then it's decided," said Fiona. "We'll start with the places that are common to Sean's marked tales and Ian's research. If the Sidhe took the silks from Aiofe as they did in the original tale and in your dream, Roary, then it makes sense that they still have them. Our task is finding out where and how to get them back." Fiona turned her back to the moon and moved with purpose to the task of cleaning the kitchen, her movements keen and focused and full of energy.
Lin and Roary watched her as she moved through the tasks, simply and efficiently. It certainly looked as if the world was set to rights with her mother's actions moving so adeptly along. Roary found her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, then he went in to help Fiona. Lin returned to the moon. She found herself wondering if her boys, her hounds, were gazing at a similar moon and if they felt a similar sense of hopefulness winding its way into their bones. A brief, soft wind lifted her hair and touched her cheek as if in answer. "Good enough for now," she thought, and sent a wave of love, trust and hope out through the moon to her boys just in case its rays could indeed carry her message to them.
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