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Oak and Mistletoe (Ch. 2)

Chapter 2

By JalissaPublished 5 years ago 44 min read
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Chapter 2

Inside a large cavern where very little light shone through, there was a madman. He rustled around in turmoil, holding onto a bitter anger because it was the only thing he believed kept him going. Since he had already torn his clothes in previous fits of madness, he instead hit his hands against the walls of the cavern near the opening where Bowen had just been. So many times before had he torn at himself and tried to break his bones and die against the caverns.

“No,” he said to himself in a moment of clarity, “it's no use continuing.” Then he sat down, using his bloody hands to hold his head up while he wept. He absentmindedly wiped the blood on his thighs.

He sobbed, softly whimpering. “Oh my darling, how—” he stopped mid-sentence, and his eyes slowly widened as he looked at his hand. Then he whirled himself up to hold his hand into the light leaking through the cracked stone.

“Blood,” he remarked quietly, then bellowed, “Blood!”

Others in the cavern heard his cry. Accustomed to his fits, they usually ignored him, but his words drew them in, and they thawed into living beings once more, aware of their surroundings. The bleeding man ran some distance to the original opening of the cave. It had been blocked last he checked. When he arrived, the space was reopened. He simply stood there taking in the scene, his eyes sparkling with fire. He felt a sense of adventure. At last, he would get Bowen, and be at peace. Others who had followed him to the opening stood behind him, reveling in amazement. Their eyes squinted at the sudden burst of light, turning away from the sun as they laughed with long-awaited relief.

In an ancient Gaelic language long dead, “Freedom,” was uttered in hushed and awed tones.

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A few days passed, and Catherine's foot healed decently. She didn't limp anymore, though it was tender with bruising. She sat calmly at the edge of her bed staring out her bedroom door, watching the dancing lights from the window on the stair banister. Catherine wondered when she would see Bowen again, wanting to know more about what he said. Was she really endangering herself, her family, and even everyone in Ireland? Just by being here? And from what?

The front door slammed, and Kathleen stomped up the stairs. “I met a guy,” she said happily.

“A guy?” Catherine's eyes were wide with surprise.

“Yes, I was on my way to meet Bella at her new apartment.”

“They're called flats here, you know. What happened?”

She grinned and plopped herself down on the other side of Catherine's bed. “I dropped my phone accidentally, and when I bent down he ran right into me. We both fell. Oh, it was perfect,” Kathleen said dreamily. Catherine laughed. “We helped each other up and went for coffee. He’s amazing, and I never say that about anything or anybody, Catherine.” Kathleen leaned forward and touched her hand for reassurance.

“That's great, Kathleen! Did you forget about Bella?”

“Oh, no. I texted her. We talked about lots of things. Catherine, I think I'm in love, I really think so, it was one of those at-first-sight things.”

“You're talking too fast, calm d—”

“He seemed really interested in me, too. We have a lot in common. I wish I'd taken a picture of him to show you.” Kathleen brushed off Catherine's hand and ran out of the room.

Catherine shook her head and smiled. She got up and went to her dresser to change, looking through her jewelry to find a pair of antique pearl dangling earrings, but could only find one of them. Then she remembered Kathleen had helped her take them out the day they saw Bowen on the walk. “Kathleen,” she yelled out the door.

“I'm on the phone!”

Catherine stood still, irritated. The earrings belonged to her grandmother. She couldn't bear to lose one.

Kathleen appeared in the doorway with the phone at her side. “Yes?”

“When you took my earrings out did you put both right here?” Catherine asked, pointing to her jewelry box.

“No, you only had one in,” Kathleen said.

“What? I was missing one of grandmother's earrings, and you didn't say anything?”

“I was preoccupied getting bandages for your bleeding foot.”

“That was three days ago, Kathleen. It's probably gone forever!”

“I saw you had both of them when we went for a walk. Maybe you lost it when you hurt yourself? I didn't notice until we were home.”

Catherine growled under her breath. “I can't believe this.”

Kathleen walked back out of the room with the phone to her ear again.

Catherine fell back on the bed. She’d received the earrings for graduation. They had been a gift from her deceased grandfather to her grandmother before they were married. Sad that she had lost such a treasure, she lay there longer than intended and drifted off. A few hours later she woke to Danny's face as he yelled her name.

“What, oh my God, what?” she whined.

“The car is gone, and I need to get to work. I can't be late my first day,” he said.

"You have a job?" Catherine rolled onto her side.

"Yeah, I told you I did. I'll be in the sorting room at the post office." He gestured in the building's direction out the window.

"Then why don't you just walk?"

Danny sighed. "I can't, I'm training somewhere else." He pulled the pillow from underneath her. "The car!"

Realization struck. “The car is gone?” Catherine pushed herself up and rubbed her face.

“Look for yourself.” Danny waved toward the window facing the empty driveway.

Catherine reached and grabbed her phone.

“What are you doing?” he asked, exasperated.

“I'm going to call the Gardaí, Danny, what else would you have me do? Go hunt the thief down myself?”

“Maybe,” Danny said sarcastically, a little hurt.

Catherine looked at her phone, unmoving.

Danny was impatient. “Well?”

She got up and put her phone in her pocket, a text message flashing off the screen. “Kathleen has the car. She went to look for my earring.”

“That's a relief, but I'm still gonna be late for work. I have to tell her to bring back the car.”

“You can't. She said her phone was dying, and she forgot her charger. And stop yelling at me.” She threw him a warning glare.

Danny ran a hand through his hair as he tried to control his frustration.

“I'm really more concerned about Kathleen. She shouldn't be out there alone. She doesn't know the area well enough for that, she could get lost, and now being unreachable... this is so stupid.”

“What? Nah, she won't get lost, she'll be fine,” said Danny.

“She said so herself. Plus, it'll be getting dark before too long. I don't like this.” Catherine put on a jacket hanging from her desk chair, and then took her wallet from her purse before putting it in the jacket's inside zipper pocket.

“Where are you going?”

“To go get her, of course,” Catherine said.

“Without a car?”

“I'll borrow Bella's,” she said, as she left for Bella's place. Catherine didn't have a good feeling about this, and couldn't think clearly having been roused awake in alarm.

While driving, she thought maybe she should have brought Danny with her, but shrugged it off as she tried to remember which spot Kathleen might think the earring would be. Catherine hoped she guessed right and would look where she ran her foot into the rock. That was the most logical spot, but Kathleen was not often logical.

At the hill, she parked and walked down to the spot more carefully this time. Kathleen was nowhere to be seen. As Catherine searched, she noticed some footprints in the mud close by. There were other markings in the ground, but Catherine couldn't read them. There were a few others that all seemed different from each other. Catherine's heart went into her throat, and that bad feeling increased rapidly. Kathleen was missing, and wherever she was, there were several other people involved. Possibly very bad people. Catherine tried to shrug it off. Maybe it was some friends she ran into who were hiking, or maybe Kathleen brought her friends with her. Catherine took some deep breaths to calm herself and began following the prints.

It was quiet. Catherine hadn’t noticed how quiet it really was last time. Kathleen was missing. Her twin sister, the only other girl in the world who knew her completely. She gulped as she thought of her sister possibly not being alive anymore, then shook her head to vanquish the thought. Having a twin was a connection so unique from any other relationship, at least for Catherine. She felt something was wrong, deep down, in that twin place. She could just tell. The uneasy feeling wouldn't go away. Catherine thought again of Kathleen being materialistic and superficial, and how much that annoyed her. Of course, she knew that wasn't the real Kathleen. Her Kathleen. Where is my sister?

Catherine walked a good distance away in the other direction from the rock and past the bubbling creek that had cooled her wounds the other day. She feared continuing as darkness fell. Catherine again regretted not bringing Danny as she zipped up her jacket and pushed on. Kathleen, she thought. She stopped. When she saw the edge of the wooded area ahead she felt a pinch of relief, but the panic filtered in. Would she be able to find her way back? Was Kathleen out there?

She was just about to take a step when she heard voices nearby. She froze and listened. They were male voices, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. She didn't know why, but instinctively—as quick as a cat—she hid behind some bushes. It was just in time. The men walked by right after. Catherine's breathing came quick, but she covered her nose and mouth with her jacket to silence the noise.

She could tell now that there were two men as they walked closer. Their features were apparent. Both wore what looked like simple cloth wrapped around their torsos that hung loosely, then openly at their ankles. The cloth was dark and looked very grungy and ragged hanging off of them. One of them had a belt fastened around his middle that looked to be made of fine rope entwined with some sort of metal loops. The other had a basic sash, which, though speckled with holes, was tied at the bottom atop his hips. Their faces seemed gruff, and their wet hair soaked their clothes around the neckline.

At knee level, she followed their movements mostly by eying their feet, which were either laced in sandals or covered in a crude-looking boot. One of them snapped twigs in his hands as they walked. The men had a look about them that made one think their bones were heavy inside of them, for they hunched over strangely. They looked strong and sturdy. Catherine wondered why the strange men were here and hoped desperately she could escape without them noticing her. Her legs began to throb. Very slowly, she managed to stretch them without a sound. She knew she needed to be ready to run at any minute, and could not afford to have her legs give out beneath her.

The men disappeared, and then she heard screaming in the distance. Her heart leapt in her chest. She hurried to the edge of the woods some feet away. Catherine's eyes widened at what she saw. The scream was apparently coming from a single man standing out on an empty, slightly overgrown field. Like a madman, he was waving his arms around wildly as he strode from left to right.

The two men who had passed Catherine joined a group made up mostly of men who looked equally ragged. The wild man was headed away from them as he paced. The expressions of the people were all different, but all looked concerned as they stood and watched. They wore garments that looked ragged, but they were worn and draped around them like dignified robes. Their mannerisms suggested it might have once been very fine fabric that covered one fully.

It was windy, and Catherine struggled to keep her hair and the bushes out of her face and eyes long enough to see clearly. There were a few smaller wild crews sporadically placed on the large field before her, huddled together as if they didn't know what to do in wide open spaces.

In the far distance, the sun was about to set over the hills, disappearing in its last light. Catherine nearly popped up from her crouched position when she saw Kathleen sitting on the ground ahead with her arms being held tightly behind her. She looked unharmed other than that, so Catherine suppressed her tears. She watched and waited. It was a wide open field. She couldn't get her sister out of there now. Catherine regretted again, bitterly this time, that she did not bring Danny with her.

“Why did you bring me this woman?” the wild man asked in a growling voice directed at four of his men. They had her surrounded. “I want Bowen, damn you!”

“She saw us. We didn't want her to tell anyone,” said one man, his brown hair whipping around his face. The wind had picked up, and everyone but Conall now felt the crisp air scrape at their faces. Conall was too heated to notice, his madness rising and falling at random.

His wildness calmed momentarily, but his eyes still looked enraged. He walked toward Kathleen. She looked up at him angrily, dried tears and dirt staining her cheeks. He leaned down and pulled her fallen hair away from her face in one swoop of his hand. Catherine clenched her fists as she watched.

Kathleen gritted her teeth and glared back at him. “Hmm,” he said in a guttural voice, “and why were you watching these men?” Kathleen said nothing. “Speak,” he screamed, and Kathleen started, but held her ground.

A tall man in the group stepped forward. “Our language, no doubt, is not the same, Conall. She cannot know what it is you say.” He put his palms out to reassure Conall. He meant no challenge to his authority.

Catherine watched helplessly from the tree line. She had no idea what language these men were speaking, but they were definitely not from around there. She had to think quickly about how to get Kathleen out of there. She didn't have time to run for help. She pulled out her phone to text Danny her location, but before she could explain what to do, she was discovered. The phone dropped as she was pulled up roughly by her arms and dragged while she struggled to free herself.

Catherine was thrown down next to her sister who pulled herself free in that instant from one of the men holding her arms in their painful grasp. She reached for her embrace.

“Catherine! Thank God! I didn't think I would ever see you again. These men grabbed me when I was looking for the earring. I think they thought I was spying on them. I didn't even notice them, but they won't listen to me. I can't understand a word they're saying,” she said frantically.

“It's okay, I told Danny where we are. We just have to hope he gets here soon with help,” Catherine explained and held Kathleen in her arms.

Everyone stared at the two women with blank expressions, except for Conall, who watched them intently.

“Why, they're twins,” he said excitedly, looking them over.

Catherine caught on to what he said, for she saw realization flash across his face, and a shiver ran through her. He locked eyes with her and stood still for a moment. The tall man walked out and spoke quietly to Conall.

“I don't care if you think it's a bad omen,” Conall shouted savagely as he waved his hand at the man. “I'll do as I please!” He slapped the man across the face. He flinched in pain but backed away, lowering his head in submission.

Kathleen buried her face in Catherine's neck. Catherine held her tight but looked away from Conall when she saw movement a ways off. Catherine's eyes widened. “Bowen,” she breathed out.

Conall heard and understood instantly. “Bowen?” he called out. He grew livid with rage, his neck and mad eyes whirling around.

Bowen had been trying to approach stealthily. Now he stood still, a mixed look of frustration and pity fixed on the madman staring at him some distance away.

In a cool, slithery voice Conall said, “Oh, Bowen. After all this time, to see you standing looking just as you did before, at last, I am happy. I told you I would be free, I knew it would happen.” He walked a few steps away from Catherine and gestured toward them. “One of them is your woman, am I right?”

Bowen said nothing.

“I'll not be ignored, Bowen!”

Bowen shook his head, exasperated.

Conall threw himself toward the twins and ripped them from each other. He grabbed Catherine's face and looked at her closely while screaming at Bowen. “It's this one, the more defiant one.” He put his other arm around her shoulder, pulling her body closer. Disgusted, Catherine held her breath and clamped her mouth shut as his spittle dampened her face. She turned her body sideways and pushed with her arms using all of her strength. Conall was stronger.

Bowen ran toward them but was blocked by the wild crowd. They held him steadfast. He yelled and flung out an outstretched hand through the wall of people, grasping at air. Panic and frustration flooded him.

Conall grinned evilly at Catherine. “Thank you for releasing me,” he whispered, their noses just inches apart.

Catherine's eyes teared up. She couldn't fathom what he wanted from her.

“I have her, Bowen!” Conall screamed. “And because she is so important to you, I will make you suffer by making her suffer.” He turned to face Bowen. “It's only fair.” He gave him a lingering smile.

“Conall, don't do this,” Bowen pleaded.

Catherine was suddenly released and pushed to the side. Conall ran inhumanly fast at Kathleen. She screamed, though it was promptly stifled as he picked her up by the neck and started to choke her. A smile spread wide across his face. Catherine steadied herself, then looked up in horror. She threw herself at him, but Conall was like a heavy bronze statue, entirely unmoving. She felt weak and helpless. Catherine began to panic.

Kathleen cried and gasped for air. She tried to pry at Conall's hands and arms. She tried to kick and push, but Conall kept his grip firm and looked over at Bowen with a smirk. He relished Bowen's pained and tortured face as he watched helplessly. He looked down at Catherine like an evil cat over a trapped mouse, and upon seeing her sorrow, he became frenzied with excitement. Looking back at Kathleen, he brought her nearer to him and with a flick of his wrist, snapped her neck and let her body drop. In one horrid instant, Kathleen was gone. Her body lay limp on the ground as lingering tears wet the dirt beneath her.

When Catherine heard the cracking of cartilage and bones, everything stopped. Shocked into silence and stillness, she felt her sister ripped away from within her. Now there was nothing. Catherine dropped to her knees. She grabbed her head with both hands, her nails dug into her scalp, and she released a bloodcurdling scream with her eyes squeezed shut.

Conall motioned for his followers to let go of Bowen. He ran to Kathleen's body and felt her pulse. She was gone.

Conall stood over him. “This is only the beginning of your suffering, Bowen.” He spit out his name in disgust, as though it were a creeping, crawling thing. Then Conall looked over at the tall man who had tried to warn him about the omen and said, “Don't worry, I'll kill the other twin soon enough.”

The man nodded humbly in acknowledgment.

Bowen looked sorrowful, and his hands rested palms upward on his thighs. He raised his eyes from the empty vessel that once held the soul and spirit of Kathleen. They met Conall's. Conall seemed unsettled by this but didn't react.

“How can you keep doing this to innocent people, Conall? I was right that day when I told them you had gone mad. You can't control it, can you? Are you completely gone now?” Bowen asked, his gaze searching Conall's face as though desperately trying to see through a fog in the distance. He hoped to see a glimpse of a man he once knew instead of the distorted person standing before him.

“I told you I'd make you speak to me again, Bowen. You made me do this. It has always been your doing. Her blood is on your hands, not mine. Just like the blood of—” he stopped short and shivered violently. His eyes were filled with panic and pain. One of his followers, though she had originally been from a different druid order, came up to Conall and put her hands on his head. Conall still shook but was drawn to her face. “Thank you, my sister,” he whispered. He seemed weakened then and laid his head in his own hands to weep. The woman moved her arms around him for comfort as they turned away. She peered back at Bowen and narrowed her eyes in hatred.

Bowen watched them walk away toward the hills. Their figures didn't take long to disappear in the darkening twilight. Darkness seemed to be rapidly pouring itself over the land. Bowen dreaded what was to come, not just with Conall but in the next few moments. He turned to see Catherine, a blank stare on her face. She didn't flinch when Bowen crouched closely in front of her, trying to see into her eyes through the dark. Her soft, boney hands and fingers felt icey when he touched them. He wrenched his hand back in surprise. Her face looked ghostly in the night. “Catherine?”

Silence.

Bowen became afraid. “Catherine?” He stood her up with him and then gently shook her. He held her close to him and rubbed his hands up and down her back to try to warm her. His face buried down in her neck and he could feel she was breathing steadily, though all of her exposed flesh was cold and clammy due to her sweating in the cold. Bowen pushed her back to look at her face again, his hands rubbing her cheeks.

“Please,” he said quietly, “show me you're still there.”

Catherine blinked, and slowly her eyes cleared. She saw Bowen before her. “Bowen.”

“Yes, it's me.” He hugged her close, turning her away from the cold, lifeless body on the ground.

“I saw you. You saved us! Kathleen will be so relieved. What happened? Where did everyone go?”

Bowen said nothing but kept holding her tightly. Catherine grew nervous. She flinched involuntarily. “Bowen,” she said slowly, “where's Kathleen?”

Bowen squeezed tighter. “I'm sorry. Just keep breathing, Catherine,” he said, his voice muffled in the neck of her jacket.

Catherine's breath hitched. “Let go of me. Where the hell is my sister, Bowen?”

Bowen pulled away and turned his head. He didn't want to see what was coming. He didn't want to see Catherine destroyed again. Catherine glared at him for a moment, then looked around and realized for the first time how dark it was. She somehow knew that something terrible had happened. She felt an emptiness she had never experienced before. She was no longer her whole self.

After she turned around, Catherine stood still. She stared down at her sister for a few moments before slowly scooping her up in her arms and sitting down in one fluid motion. She held Kathleen close, looked into her face and caressed her cheeks.

“Kathleen?” she whispered once, and then again louder. Each time she grew increasingly hysterical.

“Kathleen, please. KATHLEEN!” She screeched painfully and buried her face in Kathleen's chest, sobbing as she rocked back and forth.

Bowen stood a few steps away. Her wretched state clawed at his heart. After some time, he noticed it was getting unbearably cold. The night had crept in entirely, and Catherine had fallen silent and still. She stared out ahead.

Bowen held back his own sadness and crouched down to grab Catherine's shoulder. “We need to go get help, Catherine. We can't stay here any longer,” he said gently.

Catherine stopped moving and said rigidly, “No.”

“Catherine?”

“I'm not leaving her here alone!” she yelled, and looked straight up at Bowen. Though it was dark, the light of the starry sky let Bowen see her torn face and the tears that streamed down her cheeks to fall from her chin. It wracked his spirit.

Catherine ripped Bowen's hand off her shoulder and viciously threw herself at him.

“Catherine, stop! Stop!” Bowen grabbed at her flailing arms and fists.

Catherine grew weak and let her head fall on Bowen's chest, her balled fists on either side. Bowen relaxed his grip and put his arms around her shaking body.

“Catherine,” he said with severity in his voice, “listen to me. This is not the place to do this. I will get you home, and everything will be better, but you must do as I say. Let me help you.”

When no answer came, he grabbed her so they were face to face. “Catherine, I genuinely care about you,” he said seriously. Catherine could see the concern in his eyes and snapped herself into a state coherent enough to follow directions.

“I—I don't want her to be left here alone.” She looked down forlornly.

Bowen looked thoughtfully at Kathleen's dead body for a moment. “Okay,” he said, and letting go of Catherine, he leaned down to scoop the body up into his arms. “Let's go.”

Catherine lingered over the spot Kathleen had been, where she had held her closely to her chest. She closed her eyes, remembering what it felt like to feel Kathleen's face warm on her neck. She balled her fists again and clenched them to her collarbone. She remembered what it was like just a short time ago to feel Kathleen's arms hugging her back.

“Catherine, come with me,” Bowen's voice called to her from a short distance away, heading toward the direction of home.

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Danny led Catherine to her room and sat her down on the bed. Catherine didn't move, staring ahead with a silent blankness.

“I'm not going to... I can't deal with this,” Danny stammered, but Catherine said nothing.

Danny looked at his sister's stricken face and realized she resembled an empty shell. He understood. His own heart ached in his chest, and he felt sick to his stomach. He wanted badly to go to sleep and never wake up again. He wanted to talk to Catherine about it, to tell her how he felt, to ask her what she saw and how their sister was taken from them. He was angry, but he was more sad than angry right now. Danny didn't want to cause Catherine any more pain. She already looked like she would never be the same again.

“Catherine, I'll check on you in a little while. Try to sleep,” he said, moving his hand gently through the crown of her hair. Just like Kathleen's hair. That fact both helped him and hurt him.

When Danny left the room, Catherine remained exactly as she was. Her face was sunken, and dark circles traced her puffy eyes. She seemed to have aged a full decade in that one night. At first, she was as still as stone, but slowly she started to fidget with her now warm hands. She nervously picked at a small hole in the fabric of her long-sleeved shirt. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind, including Danny's last words to her.

Some morning light streamed into her room. The entire night had passed. Sleep, Danny had said. She could never sleep again, or so she felt. Never the same. It would be nothing but tortured and fitful hours of struggle for sleep for her now. No, it would be easier to stay awake and die from exhaustion.

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Bowen sat on a large padded chair in the living room downstairs, his chin resting on his hand. He thought about Conall, about the night trying to stabilize Catherine long enough to get her home to a safe place. He slowly blinked away the memory of how empty she had looked when he told Danny what happened. What would he do now that Conall was released? How could he keep him away from Catherine, and stop his plans? He didn't know.

Danny appeared then, leaning in the archway and eyeing him suspiciously. Bowen closed his eyes.

“She needs to know what's behind all of this. Frankly, so do I,” he told Bowen flatly.

Bowen nodded before returning Danny's gaze. “You're right, of course.” He waited.

Danny walked over and sat across from Bowen, eyes narrowed. “Bowen, is it?”

“Yes.”

“I'm going to tell you what I think, okay?” Danny asked, and Bowen nodded his assent.

“I'm thinking you should go tell my sister what she needs to know so she can eventually find closure. I'm also thinking that when that's over, you need to leave and never come back. I don't want to see you, and I don't want my sister to see you. I don't know who you are, and really, I just don't care. You have no business being in our lives, so you need to leave as quickly as you arrived,” he said in an even tone.

Bowen listened intently. He was used to all manner of hostility by now. “I do not blame you for hating me, Danny,” he said, “and I understand if you hold me accountable for Kathleen's death.”

Danny blinked slowly and leaned back on the couch.

“I'm sorry I couldn't stop him from killing her. I am so terribly sorry you lost her,” Bowen finished.

Danny's eyes were red from stress and tears. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and moved to stand over Bowen for a brief moment. He looked conflicted, then steadied himself.

“I may forgive you. We'll see if Catherine will,” he said before leaving the room.

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Catherine didn't sleep, just like she knew she wouldn't. She had laid down to rest and wept interchangeably throughout the day and next night, but still, no sleep came. Danny knocked on the door and came in to try to convince her to eat a few times, but to no avail. One time in and out of drowsiness she thought Bowen was in the room sitting across from her, but it was too dark, and she was too weak to be sure. Eventually Danny helped her force down some water, which helped her burning throat as the cycle continued.

Catherine lost track of time. She would have to return to work eventually, but she couldn't imagine ever returning to normal life. Catherine felt like her whole identity was gone. Could she ever reclaim a future for herself without her twin sister? Days like this droned on. She finally slept on the fourth day, but fitfully, woken multiple times by horrific nightmares that resulted in her being drenched in sweat and tears while her throat ached from the screams escaping it. Each time, Danny would check on her, or she would wake up being held by Danny as he tried to calm her down. Often she would be screaming and wouldn't wake from it. Catherine felt trapped. She saw no end to the torture.

One night she stayed perfectly still in her bed with the light on for hours. The moon was out, and stars winked at her through her window. She fell in and out of sleep, thinking of Kathleen and that horrible day. Catherine popped up in her bed, eyes immediately finding the closed door of her bedroom in front of her. My God, she thought. Catherine remembered. In her dreams, it had all happened right in front of her. As she slept, she felt trapped in her body, frozen and forced to watch the scene play out. Tears streamed down her cheeks freely. She didn't cringe. She silently cried, still as a corpse. After a while, she realized she wasn't just crying over missing her sister, or at witnessing her sister's death. She was crying because she felt angry. So many times, Catherine had jumped in to protect Kathleen, but she couldn't save her this time. With all of her strength, she had tried. Now she felt weak. She had been made a victim, and she was angry with herself for not being strong when Kathleen needed her to be.

Catherine had never hated anyone before. She knew immediately what it was she felt. Her anger and sorrow dug in deeper and deeper. It festered inside of her until it became a consuming, poisonous hate. She directed it not just at one person though, but many. She hated one being more than the others, and that was Kathleen's murderer, Conall. That was his name, according to Bowen.

Hours went by like seconds to Catherine now. No longer wallowing in sorrow, she had found a new way of dealing with the pain. She spent hours hating, and it gave her false strength. She no longer felt the pang of sadness except at random spurts of uncontrollable grief, or during her fitful nightmare-filled nights. The hatred allowed her to not just feel strong, but to let her push away all other feeling, to ignore what she could not handle or do anything about. Catherine knew this. She knew the extent this could go, knew what was happening, every step of the way. She felt she could never recover her former self, not even a glimpse. It felt like if she let go of the only stable ground she had, she would crumble. So, she was at an impasse. What else could she do? How could she save herself from this blackened night, full of endless pain and suffering? She didn't know, but she would hold onto that hatred for dear life until she did.

Catherine's thoughts were interrupted by sudden movement. She looked over and saw Bowen bumping into the bed as he entered the room. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her neck outstretched from her laying position as she looked up.

“I've given you time. We don't have any more time to spare, I'm afraid,” he said with a serious expression.

Catherine turned away.

“Catherine?”

“This is your fault,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“It’s your fault that all of this happened. You caused this chain of events,” she said, turning rapidly back toward him and throwing the blankets off of her.

Bowen looked bewildered. “I tried to save her, Catherine. You saw me try.” He started to come closer, but when Catherine flinched back uncomfortably, he stopped short and sat on the edge of the bed. Catherine stared into his eyes. Her own eyes felt dry and swollen from what seemed like years of crying. Her hands shook so much she had to grip a pillow to stop them. Catherine realized she must appear a mess. Her anger melted away into momentary peace, and in the liquid green of his stare, she forgot how awful she looked and felt.

“I'm sorry. I am so deeply sorry for what happened to you,” Bowen said, concern growing on his face as he watched her.

Catherine believed him. Bowen saw forgiveness start in her eyes. “Catherine, what I said before when we were leaving that place,” Bowen stopped to take a long breath, “I meant it. I really did.”

“That... you care about me?” Her voice was small.

“Yes,” he said. Catherine nodded slightly. “Which means I hope you can trust me. I will do anything to protect you. As long as I'm with you, I won't let anyone harm you.”

Catherine felt a rush, but she hastily buried it. She wasn't sure what he meant precisely.

“Bowen,” she started, “tell me about Conall.”

Bowen stood up and went to a window. Then he turned and sat closer to her on the bed, clasping his hands together. “What I'm going to tell you will not sound believable,” he said with a sigh.

“It's already unbelievable for me, but,” Catherine shook her head. “I understand.”

Bowen ran one of his hands through his hair. His gorgeous hair, Catherine thought before reproaching herself to pay attention. “What is your knowledge of the original Druids? The real ancient Druids?” he asked.

Catherine blinked a few times at the question. “I don't know much, just that the actual Druids were a society, and not just a group of supposed magical people,” she said.

“Hmm,” Bowen said. He tapped his index finger on his leg.

Catherine raised her eyebrow. Her hair fell from one side as she shifted in the bed, and she searched his face for answers.

Bowen breathed in and out deeply once before speaking again. “I'm over two thousand years old, Catherine. I'm an ancient Druid who lived here in Ireland all those years ago,” he said calmly, before watching Catherine closely.

Catherine felt as though maybe she had gone insane, that seeing her sister's death was too much for her. Maybe she had lost her mind earlier than that and Kathleen could actually be safe and back in the States still. She immediately shook the thought out of her mind. She nodded, and with her eyes wide and slightly frightened she simply insisted, “Continue. Please.” She cleared her throat and looked down to avoid his gaze.

Bowen sighed again in a reluctant manner, but he knew that she must know the truth.

“I was a doctor; I healed people with our methods of the time. I had no living relatives. They had all died from illness, and as I grew up, I wanted to prevent that from happening to as many people as I could. Conall... I knew him and his wife. They were a young couple when I first met them. He was so happy then.”

Bowen seemed reminiscent as he said that. Catherine looked over at him. “His wife died one day, and he was never happy again. As time went on, he became mad. Mad with rage and unimaginable sorrow. He became so vengeful and evil that my people had to put a stop to him. Nothing we did cured him. He brainwashed many of our warriors and caused an uprising against the priesthood. He said the priests were worshiping false gods and using our beliefs to control us all for power. His followers rapidly became as evil as he, and they hurt innocent people in their wild path.” Bowen's face looked strained, and he delayed for a moment to swallow. Bowen rubbed his face, then clasped his hands again to continue.

“One of the women of our order was a master with magic. I didn't like someone like her with that level of power, but regardless, she was the high priest's daughter. She put a curse on Conall and his followers to trap them in caves hidden within the hills and rocks. 'As long as their evil thoughts remained,' she said. The only other way they could be freed was if the curse was broken by a prophesied woman. That woman is you, Catherine. Until that day you unintentionally freed them, these madmen and I have lived in an ageless state. We cannot be injured, and we cannot die. That's all changed now. This was why I wanted you to leave Ireland, to prevent this from even accidentally happening. Now they are free, and they will hurt everyone they can. They will hunt for me, and they will kill you before they kill me. You can't stay here any longer.”

Catherine sat still, thinking. He stared at her, and it made her blush. Bowen decided to add a little more. “After I saw the high priest's daughter cast the curse in front of me, I—well I can't remember after that. I just know I woke up sometime later, far from home with the sun shining above me, and I was alone with grass grown thickly around my body. My clothes were worn, but my flesh and all of my body was the same. It could have been years later. I don't know what happened.”

Bowen took Catherine's hand. “When you broke the curse, it was like I could breathe again. I'm hungry, I get exhausted, and I thirst. I'm aging normally again. It is as though I held my breath for a long time without it being a bother to me, or even noticing really. Now my breath is back, bringing all of my senses and life along with it. It's so strange, Catherine.”

Bowen noticed Catherine's hand was soft and warm in his. Catherine noticed how his large, manly hand closed over her small one completely. His touch sent another rush through her, and she felt the excitement of noticing every part of it. Each finger, each slight, unconscious caress on her skin. It was either a gesture of sincerity or it could have been interpreted as something more. But which was it? Her breath came quicker, but she didn't allow him to see that.

“I must figure out a way to get them back into the caves to avoid further bloodshed,” he said, pulling his hand away.

“If they are no longer ageless, can't you just kill them?” she asked as she worked to control her breathing.

“I can't do that, I'm a healer. I can't just kill anyone, unless it’s in defense.”

“Even if they are evil and will hurt others, Bowen?”

“I can't kill them unless I have no other choice,” he replied.

“In that time, didn't everyone know how to fight to survive?” Catherine was puzzled by Bowen's unwillingness.

“Most, yes. I do know how to fight, Catherine. I'm not unable, nor am I a coward if that's what you're thinking.” He looked at her, slightly irritated.

“I wasn't trying to imply that, but it really is just because you're a doctor?”

“You seem to think because I can fight, I'm sure to win it. The group of Conall's followers we saw that day... it wasn't all of them. There are hundreds,” Bowen stated.

“What? Hundreds?” Catherine's voice cracked slightly.

Bowen's lips curved into a slight smile. “If it had only been a few dozen people rising against us before, a curse wouldn't have been needed. There are hundreds, perhaps thousands, I can't be sure exactly how many. They were scattered separately into the depths of the earth and rocks of Ireland. I spent a good portion of time looking for where exactly. Like Conall, most were trapped in caves where they couldn't be bothered by stray people. They couldn't see them either, or much else of the outside world. The curse was explained to me as not only meant to protect others from these people, but acts as a form of punishment for their actions as well.”

“So, Conall can't speak English because he's been trapped, but you can because you've been roaming Ireland for two thousand years?”

“Yes, essentially. I adapted to my surroundings. People couldn't know who I was. Especially in the modern age. For the most part, I hid, never to meet anyone new for decades at a time. I couldn't trust anyone, or take that risk.” He paused to think before continuing. “Catherine, as you may have noticed when you met him, Conall is strong. Unnaturally strong. One day he woke up this way, no one knew how. He and his followers were almost unbeatable in my time.”

Catherine had noticed how strong Conall was. She nodded in response, and silently pondered this amazing story, which to her misfortune was no work of fiction. So many questions were forming, and she was eager for answers. One came to mind that she was particularly curious about.

“Bowen?” she asked, breaking several minutes of silence.

“Yes?”

“Why am I the woman she said could break the curse?”

Just at that moment, Danny walked up to the open doorway. Catherine looked up as relief flashed across Bowen's face. He composed himself. “Hey, we should go do a missing persons report down at the Garda station before too much longer, Catherine,” Danny said.

“Right,” she agreed, and looked at Bowen. “Because we can't explain that she's dead.”

“No one else should know about this, Catherine.”

“I know. I really have no choice now.” Her voice trailed off as she remembered Bowen making a burial fire and burning Kathleen's body in front of her before they could return home. Catherine had collapsed and watched as the blazing fire reached up to the stars. She thought of how powerful fire was, how very little could fight against it. It destroys, creates and erases, but also cleanses. Her thoughts turned morbid as she thought about the ashes of her sister's bones in detail, and how her own would look if she were cremated one day. Danny snapped her back to reality with a meaningful grunt, much to her relief.

“Yes, Danny. We'll contact the Gardaí to file the missing persons report, or whatever it's called here.”

The doorbell rang, and Danny went to answer.

“Are you sure you're ready to leave this room?” Bowen asked her.

Catherine wasn't ready to heal if that's what Bowen meant, but she was sure she could step across that threshold. All because it meant getting a step closer to avenging her sister. “Yes."

Bowen eyed her curiously; he knew there was something more, but didn't say anything. He couldn't be sure exactly, for Catherine kept retreating, remaining a closed book. Bowen left the room to let her dress. His brow furrowed. Suppressing grief to deal with it, retreating inward from others, it was only a matter of time before she would explode. He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard Danny talking with someone at the door. He waited for Catherine.

She soon came out dressed in earth tone colored yoga pants and a T-shirt. Bowen lagged behind a bit as Catherine walked into the next room ahead of him. She saw the front door open with a man's tanned hand placing a card in Danny's. She heard Danny apologize and thank him before shutting the door.

“Who was that?” Catherine asked.

“A guy to check on Kathleen,” he said sadly.

Catherine felt a lightning bolt of alarm flash inside her chest. She felt sick knowing she would have to keep up a lie for the rest of her life in order to save everyone else's life. She wondered if she could handle it all without breaking. Catherine wished she were the pile of dust being blown away out in the distant fields and woods instead.

“He said she was supposed to meet with him a while ago for coffee. For a date,” Danny finished after a moment.

“Oh, yeah. That's right, she was,” Catherine said quietly to herself.

“He left me his card with a note on it for her,” he said, tossing it on the counter.

“You didn't tell him she was—you didn't tell him?” Catherine gulped away her desire to cry.

“No, I couldn't deal with it. He caught me off guard, Catherine,” he answered. “I'll remember to say she's missing though if it comes up.”

Catherine just nodded. Turning to the fridge for something cold to drink, she was stopped in her tracks when she saw the magnet pictures. She had moved or hidden all of the pictures she had of Kathleen on her phone or in her room. The corners of her mouth perked up slightly when she saw the familiar picture of Kathleen's silly expressions as a child, her favorite. Catherine remembered putting it up when she moved in. She hadn't thought about her sister dying, at least not for decades in the future. Many decades. Catherine realized she had always subconsciously assumed that she would die before everyone she cared about. She took down the magnets. Then, feeling the absence of her sister amongst the other pictures of the rest of the family and friends there, she cleared the front of the fridge of all pictures and threw them in a drawer.

Catherine felt more comfortable now. Though when the hallway mirror on the wall caught her eye, she saw herself for the first time in a while. The mirror image which stared back was haunting. She could never feel fully comfortable with a mirror again. Would anything be normal now? Anything tolerable? She turned away from her reflection.

Danny returned, saying he was ready to leave. Catherine noticed the bags under her brother's eyes. He looked sullen and exhausted, but he continued as if perfectly fine and unaffected. Catherine knew he was only keeping it together for her benefit. She worried about Danny and seeing him like this did, in fact, make things harder for her. She decided not to mention it.

Catherine took a deep breath. Next step, go outside. And she did.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Catherine asked Bowen to accompany her with Danny to An Garda Síochána, otherwise known as the Garda station. She was anxious before, but everything was blank now. Speaking with the officers and getting the report went smoothly. Though the idea of having to do such a thing was upsetting for both of the siblings, they kept each other calm.

While Catherine was trying to remember what Kathleen was wearing last for the missing persons report, she saw a woman in custody brought into the station. The woman looked dirty, and her clothes were mismatched with some new fabric wrapped around atop old torn ones. One of the Gardaí spoke to her, apparently not for the first time based on his frustrated tone, but the woman seemed unable to reply. Catherine was paying full attention now. She knew this woman must be one of the formerly cursed people. She thought she would feel enraged at the sight of one of them. Then again, after what Bowen said about the possibility of thousands of the ancient druids being here now, it was very possible this woman wasn't even there when Kathleen was killed. Catherine didn't recognize her face at all.

Catherine nudged Bowen. Upon seeing the ancient woman, he drew in a sharp breath.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“I've seen her before, among Conall's followers. I can't place it, but I know I encountered her before the curse,” he whispered back. He looked over Catherine's head and said, "Where did you find her?” to a Garda standing closest to them.

The Garda answered casually, “I haven't been notified, I just arrived. All I know is she won't speak to anyone, she's not in records of any kind. We suspect she's from another country since she doesn't seem to understand Gaelic or English.”

“Thank you,” Catherine said. The Garda nodded and walked away.

Bowen took a few steps forward and spoke quietly to the woman. Catherine couldn't dissect the ancient Gaelic language into comprehensive words. It ran together too fast for her to even make a guess. The woman looked up at Bowen with hate in her eyes. She seemed to know him too. Her low reply was muffled, but her anger was evident in the way she spat out the words. She glared and emphatically stepped back from him.

“What did she say?” Danny asked Bowen curiously. The woman shifted her eyes to Danny when he spoke, then turned away from them entirely as if she were alone in the room.

“She hates me, though that should be obvious to anyone,” Bowen said.

“Well, yeah. Did she say anything else?” Danny was very confused by the strange language.

“I can tell you her name is Síne.”

fantasy
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Jalissa

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