Nothing happened. There was no burst of energy. No sudden understanding dawned in his mind. He had no epiphany, nor did he gain super-strength. He was still Brendan Clair, only now, he held a finely crafted piece of personalized jewellery in his hand.
Brendan was slightly disappointed. He’d expected something to happen. “Is that it?”
BLT shrugged. “It’s just a piece of jewellery until you are initiated. Looks nice though, don’t you think?”
Brendan raised the amulet, spreading the chain and dropping it over his head. It slid beneath his shirt and lay against his skin, warm and heavy.
“So,” Brendan said. “I have what I came for and I thank you, Finbar. Now I have to go back to the Swan to be initiated. Tell me what you want from me.”
Finbar’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “I want to go back!” he said, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Go back?” Brendan was shaken by the man’s tears. “I don’t understand. Go back where?”
Finbar stepped close to Brendan, his eyes filled with need. “I want to go back and live among the Fair Folk again. I want to go back home.”
“I still don’t get it,” Brendan said. “You’re Human. You aren’t a Faerie.”
“Oh,” Finbar moaned, “you’re wrong, lad.” He tore open his shirt and revealed a terrible puckered scar on his chest. The mark was in the shape of a circle with a strange symbol burned into its centre.
“Aaaah!” BLT sighed. “Now I understand!”
“Well, could you fill me in?” Brendan was getting annoyed.
BLT hovered between them and explained. “He bears the mark of an Exile. When a Faerie transgresses against the Truce, he stands the chance of being sentenced to Exile in the Human world. A great and fearsome magic is worked upon the criminal, stripping him of all of his Faerie Gifts, save long life. Then he is cast out and ostracized by the Faerie World. None may reveal themselves to him on pain of Exile themselves. He is doomed to know of the Faerie World and long for it but never be a part of it again. It explains how he was able to take the amulet from you. He was once a Faerie.”
Brendan looked at the abject misery in Finbar’s eyes. “How horrible,” Brendan said. “Why? What did you do?”
Finbar hung his head. “I fell in love with a Human woman.” When he looked up, his eyes shone with tears. “She was beautiful. I couldn’t help but love her. I wanted her to know everything about me. I told her of the secret world, the world she couldn’t see, and I took her for my wife.”
“I don’t understand,” Brendan said. “What was your crime?”
“Unions between Humans and Faeries are forbidden,” BLT said. “The punishment is Exile.”
“I’ve been so lonely, wandering the world trying to forget the woman I’d loved and the world I’d lost,” Finbar sobbed. “When you arrived here, I saw my chance. I stole the amulet and waited for you to return for it. Then I would strike my bargain with ye.”
Brendan shook his head in disbelief. He looked at the misery in Finbar’s face and felt he couldn’t be angry for the pain the old man had put him through. How could anyone be so cruel as to punish someone for falling in love? The more he thought about Finbar’s case, the more outraged he felt. What if he were to fall in love with Marina Kaprillian? Or rather, what if she fell in love with him (highly unlikely but he was just imagining)? Would that mean he would be Exiled, too? It was ridiculous!
“How can the Exile be reversed?” Brendan demanded. “What do I have to do?”
BLT’s face went blank. “There’s nothing anyone can do. Exile is irreversible.”
“There must be something,” Brendan said, looking at Finbar’s stricken face.
BLT shook her head with a look of genuine sadness. Finbar sobbed and sat down on his cot. The old man hid his face in his hands and wept bitterly. Brendan sat down beside him.
“I’m sorry,” Brendan said softly. “I don’t know what I can do. Why would you even want to come back if you love her so much? How could you bear to leave her behind?”
Finbar wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his coat and looked at Brendan. “She’s been dead nigh on two centuries. My Aislinn died of fever during the Famine in 1832. We were forced to stay on a ship off the coast until the fever took those it infected. The survivors were put ashore in this new land and I was among them. Now, I’m doomed to live without her.”
Brendan couldn’t imagine how it might be to live with that kind of sadness forever. He would want to come back to the people he knew and seek solace. What if his parents turned him away when he needed them most? He couldn’t imagine a worse loneliness. He laid a hand on the amulet nestled warmly against his chest. There must be something he could do.
“I made you a promise, Finbar,” Brendan said firmly. “I will do my best to honour it. I will do everything I can to have your Exile lifted.”
“Oh my.” The icy tone was all too familiar now. Brendan looked up to see Orcadia sauntering into the lamplight. “Such authority as befits a prince of your standing, Breandan. Making promises you can’t possibly keep.”
Brendan stood up to face her. He tried to put on a brave face despite the terror that was flooding through him. BLT fluttered to rest on his shoulder. “I’ve found my token. I will be initiated. I won’t let you stop me. Step aside.”
“I don’t think so.” Orcadia smiled sweetly. “You’ve led me on a winding path, young nephew, and managed quite well considering you had no idea what you were doing. You certainly made me look foolish back there at the hospital. That’s all over now. Greenleaf and D’Anaan and Ariel”-she spat the names as if they were poison on her tongue-”they cannot help you now. I’ll give you one more chance. You must come with me and join my cause, make war on the Humans and be my right hand.” The smile left her face. “Or you will die.”
82 Bairn is an old Scottish word for child. The origin of the term is unknown. Some say that in the distant past, Scottish people mistakenly believed that children were actually little bears. This seems far-fetched. Another theory is that babies, being born naked, were referred to as “litle bare ones,” which over time was transformed into the shorter term “bairns.” It’s odd that BLT would use a Scottish term. Perhaps this hints at an earlier Scottish ancestry.
FAMILY
Brendan concentrated with all his might and said, slowly and clearly, “Leave me alone!”
Orcadia laughed, waving a scolding finger playfully at him. “Not this time! You caught me off guard once. Now I know what you’re capable of and I won’t be Compelled a second time.” She glared at him. “So much power and so raw! Let me teach you how to harness your strength! Together, we will make the Humans bow to us. The Fair Folk will rule the Earth again, as they were always meant to!”
Brendan shook his head. “I won’t join you. I’ve lived among Humans my whole life. I know they aren’t perfect. They can be selfish. They can be cruel. They don’t always do what’s best…” His mind was full of the trip through the lake with Oona. “Maybe they don’t know how lucky they are to have such a beautiful world to call their own, but they are my people even though I’m not Human myself. My parents took me in and loved me, tried to make sure I was a good person. My friends helped me when I needed them and asked for nothing in return.” As he spoke, Brendan’s voice became stronger, more sure. “Humans made a mess of the Earth, it’s true. I won’t give up on them, though. They just need to be shown how to change.”
Orcadia listened to his speech with a smirk on her face. When he was done, she shook her head in mock sadness. “What a little fool you are. You can’t see the big picture. I think you need help to focus your mind.” Orcadia raised a pale hand and beckoned to the shadows behind her.
“No!” Brendan cried as his sister, Delia, stepped into the light. Orcadia must have grabbed her on her way to school. She was dressed in her uniform and her feet were caked in muck, but she didn’t seem to notice. The blank expression on her face made it obvious to Brendan that she was under Orcadia’s power.