Tír na nÓg Trilogy, Book I: The Trials of Cuchulain

Branches

On Thursday morning, the druid's raven told Emery to continue waiting for more signs, and she told the raven to tell its master that she was leaving town in four days. When she came home from school that afternoon, Cathbad was sitting on the back deck, thankfully disguised in modern clothing. Emery caught sight of him on a deck chair when she went into the kitchen for a glass of water and had to do a double-take to recognize him; he wore long sweat pants and a hoodie, the hood of which he'd pulled over his matted hair. For a brief moment, she worried some stranger had wandered into her yard, but then she caught sight of the pointed chin and cheeks with which she'd become so familiar, the gray eyes shining as they looked up and saw her, as well.

Emery moved to attention, opening the door, hoping he hadn't caught her staring at him for too long. Tess had said she'd miss Cathbad once this was all over, and Emery, too, had to admit that she'd grown attached to the druid as well.

"What is the meaning of this?" was the first thing he said, jumping from his seat as if he'd been ready to do so for as long as he'd sat there. "How can you leave at such a time? Where is it you'll go?"

"Stop, stop! Come into the house, all right? It's kind of cold out here."

"I am fine. I feel no cold."

"Well I do, so hurry up."

They entered the house and sat at the kitchen counter. Emery shoved a sports drink at Cathbad. "This water is blue, Lady--is it safe?"

"Of course it's safe. Just drink it." Before he could reiterate his questions, she filled him in. "My parents are taking me and Deirdre to Florida, to see my other sister. We're leaving Monday, but we'll be back in two weeks."

Cathbad choked on the drink he'd taken, showering Emery, who tried to remain as stolid as possible. "Two weeks? I know not where Flo-ridda is, but the time is very long. What is the distance?"

"From here?" said Emery, dabbing her face with a nearby hand towel. "Well, we're flying, but by car, it'd be at least twenty-four hours."

"One could not walk there?"

"Definitely not. It'd take you months to walk there from here."

"In that case, we'd have to remain. None of us can travel so far from the point through which we arrived."

"Does that mean Evil can't follow me to the beach?"

Cathbad lowered his head. "No, I do not believe he could follow you that distance."

"That's good, then! I'll be safe, right? You won't have to worry about me." She paused, noted his drooping body language. "Cat, what is it? That's good, right? You guys won't have to try to protect me."

"The Red Branch cannot remain here for much longer, Emery. We cannot wait for your return and will not be here when you get back." He played with the plastic wrap around his drink.

Emery was confused. "You've never said anything about a time limit." Guilty hope glimmered in her.

"I do not know if there is a set time on your curse; however, I have sensed that the longer we who are not from here stay here, the weaker we become. I fear . . . I fear that if I keep the warriors in this place, they will begin to forget who they are and where we are from, as you have. Cearnach--" Cathbad bit his tongue, looked at something distant, then refocused on Emery. "Two days ago, Cearnach walked out of the camp."

"What!?"

"Fear not! Fear not. We--we found him. Please, Emery, sit. All is well. We found him. Or I should say, I found him. He was wandering along one of your long, hard paths, where many horseless chariots rush by at such speeds . . . Fortunately, I was able to divine his location before he attempted to cross the path, but when I did, he couldn't recall who I was or who he was, nothing at all. So I returned to the woods and sent him home." Cathbad took a deep breath and sighed it out. "He'd been here too long. Where we are from, suns and moons and light and dark flow continuously, weave a tapestry, whereas here, your days and hours are harsh; they are an unforgiving master, for you record them into blocks and place them on your walls." Emery was at a loss until he pointed to the huge dry-erase calendar hanging on the refrigerator. "Our forms do not respond well to such strictures. I blame myself for not realizing such a thing as forgetfulness would occur. So you see--the others are in danger the longer they stay, and I worry, too, that the magic I've used to bring them through has destabilized the very fabric between our world and this one, so that in all likelihood, they will fall prey to memory loss sooner than Cearnach."