The Great Fury (4 page)

The dress reminded Oengus of the pictures of Celtic Princesses he had seen in history books. But he could see no jewelry other than the golden clasp that held her silken hair.

They were sitting opposite one another on low lounge couches and they both rose as Oengus entered.

Oengus was very self-conscious in his strange costume and gave his uncle John an embarrassed smile.

“Elfin clothes suit you Oengus,” Danu said warmly, adding, “Do sit beside me.”

There was a large silver tray on the table and a golden dome covering whatever rested there. Danu took off the dome to reveal cakes and beverages.

“We won't be disturbed but do help yourselves. I know you have had breakfast but don't be shy. The cakes are excellent and we have coffee and tea and some bottled ‘water of life' for you John in view of your condition,” Danu explained.

“Try the Kimberly biscuits Oengus. They are fresh,” she added.

Oengus took one to be polite but in fact Kimberly was his favorite biscuit.

As Danu poured him a cup of tea in a delicate cup of unknown provenance, Oengus wondered that everything seemed normal but nothing was normal. Maybe a doctor would arrive and declare them all insane? But he decided that in the meantime he might as well enjoy a fresh Kimberly biscuit.

He realized Danu was looking at him in an appraising way. But she had soft eyes and a soft expression. He felt embarrassed but not threatened.

“It is good to see you Oengus,” she said gently.

“What's going on?” Oengus began but Danu held up a hand.

“Listen a while Oengus and then you will understand. Let John explain why you are both here,” Danu said and turned to John.

“John?” she prompted.

John looked nervous as he met Oengus's eyes. He took a sip of his coffee and then cooled it with the bottled water. It seemed to give him strength.

“First, Oengus I hear the Kerryman newspaper gave me a splash when I was involved in rescue work as a fireman at the nine eleven attack. Is that so?”

Oengus frowned, wondering where this was going.

“They said you were very brave. Mom was very proud and read the article over and over. It was the first time they made mention of your existence.”

“Good, good. But you see Oengus I got some dust in my lungs. So I was sent to a doctor. As luck would have it I was alright in the lung department, but they ran tests.”

“Yes?” Oengus prompted.

“And the tests explained why I was feeling so unwell. It seems I have cancer.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere Oengus. At that stage there were secondary's all over my system. The good news was they could keep me going with drugs but the bad news was that I had just months to live. And the way I feel it won't be long now.”

“But why did you come back John? Why did you want to see me? Oengus asked.

“Let me get to that. I'm sure the events so far have been a terrible shock to you Oengus and we need to get you through this.”

“Feel free, we will both listen,” Danu said graciously.

John put some more water into his coffee and sipped. He looked earnestly at Oengus.

“You ok kid?” he asked.

“A bit freaked out.”

“Ok but stay with me. Oengus no doubt you have listened to fairy stories around the fire in winter?”

“Not since I was a kid.”

“Have you ever heard of stolen children?”

“Mom used to turn off the television and read to us. There were stories about faeries stealing healthy children and putting a sickly one in its place or maybe a log of wood.”

“Exactly,” John said sounding as if he had just proven a major point.

“Of course I didn't believe them, they were just fairy stories,” Oengus countered.

“Naturally,” Danu said with a smile.

“When I was young I was a bit wild,” John continued.

“Right?” Oengus asked.

“Forty years ago I was a holy terror. They used call me the Devil of Dunquin.”

Danu gave him an indulgent smile.

“What did you do?” Oengus asked, feeling the need to get John to come to the point.

“Our land on Great Blasket included the Clochan that we visited. Oengus over the centuries our people were close to the magic, for they had seen strange things at the Clochan.”

“There was magic everywhere when the people believed,” Danu said.

“This place reminds me of a posh hotel my dad brought us to one year for Sunday lunch after he got a great price when he sold the spring lambs,” Oengus said. “I'm not sure it is a magic place.”

Danu was surprised at this viewpoint.

“This is Otherworld,” she said. “It is vast.”

“Yes,” John added. “The key thing is that here time is different.”

“We are relatively different as time moves in a different way here,” Danu explained but Oengus didn't feel any the wiser.

“And where are we?” he asked.

“Presently we are in the reception area of the palace of the Faerie Queen. All the gold trim you see is real gold and all diamonds are real. This is not just a hotel I can assure you Oengus,” she added.

Oengus shrugged. “And Danu where do you live in all of this?” he asked.

“I live far away in Tir na Nogh,” Danu said.

“The land of the young,” John translated unnecessarily. “It's another part of Otherworld.”

“The Land of the Young maybe but no offence, not that young,” Oengus replied.

“To a sixteen year old everyone over twenty is old,” John said with a smile.

Danu laughed. Her laugh was warm and musical and as she laughed she smiled with her eyes. Oengus felt himself warm to her. His mother sometimes looked at him like that.

“As it happens I am thousands of earth years old,” she confessed.

“A pensioner?” Oengus managed.

She laughed and so did John.

“I like a sense of humor,” she said.

“The Clochan is the place where the magic of Otherworld touches earth,” John continued.

“Why there in particular?” Oengus probed.

“Oengus there is magic everywhere, but in some places there is a lot more than most. It was decided as a matter of policy some time ago that as human kind became more technical we would withdraw gradually the close connections between earth and Otherworld,” Danu explained.

“But not at the Clochan?” Oengus asked. He knew he was having a crazy conversation but Danu seemed sane.

“Not everywhere. I'm sure you've heard of Leprechauns?” John asked.

“With a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow and three magic wishes if you can catch one,” Oengus summarized.

“Right but did you know we can use the leprechaun rainbow as a transport beacon between Otherworld and wherever we want to go?” Danu asked.

Oengus decided he'd better have another biscuit.

“Great Blasket is still touched by magic as is the Dingle peninsula,” John interjected. “Also there are places in Africa, India, China, where magic is still present and the local people accept and live alongside magic.”

“What about cities?” Oengus asked even though he wasn't really interested.

“Not so much,” John conceded. “But some individuals still have magic in their genes and it pops out along the generations.”

“That or through the occasional intermarriage,” Danu added.

“Ok,” Oengus said.

There was a silence. Oengus realized they had been skirting around the subject. He bit on his biscuit and waited.

Danu looked to John.

“Oengus I stole you,” John said. “You are a stolen child.”

Chapter Four

Live Corp was a hedge fund situated in the heart of the financial district of New York. Housed in an unpretentious Brownstone Building it had only a copper plate with its name on the door and if anything seemed a small player in a big market. Lived Dutronc was the President and Head of Operations. Lived Dutronc was a tall distinguished man with grey hair.

It was clear that he was agitated as he walked up and down in front of the Boardroom table.

The board of directors squirmed under his gaze but tried to look casual and in control. But Johnson, who was in attendance but not a member of the board, was anything but casual. He looked ready to bolt. He froze as he met Dutronc's eye.

“Apple shares? How did we miss the dip?” Dutronc asked.

“We bought in early and the stock has risen twenty five times since then,” Johnson defended.

“That was then. This is now,” Dutronc said coldly.

“We should hold. They'll come back. Still a good long term hold,” Johnson said.

Dutronc regarded Johnson with distaste. He had an aversion to bad news. Johnson was regarded as good in appraisal terms and supposed to be good under pressure. Dutronc decided that was probably true.

“Adjourned,” Dutronc said.

The members of the board sighed with relief and gathered up their papers.

“Hold?” Johnson asked with trepidation.

“Hold Apple shares,” Dutronc said with a nod of approval. Needing no encouragement Johnson packed up his papers and got back to his desk.

Morag was in charge of M Division. It was the smallest division in the organization and very niche. Morag also took a turn at keeping the minutes of the regular Board Meetings. She sat and waited until everyone had departed. She finished off the minutes with the reference to Apple shares.

Dutronc took a cup of coffee, sat and sighed. It had been a hard session and he'd had to grandstand to drive fear into the hearts of his board. He was a firm believer that fear was not only the best motivator but that it also gave him immunity from counter questions. He liked his board cowed and acquiescent.

Morag came and stood behind him and massaged his shoulders. Dutronc acquiesced with a small smile.

Live Corp was a niche market specialist Hedge Fund. They invested in the service of human weakness and were strong in drink, drugs, and sex. They had a simple philosophy built around the theory that ‘evil was good' for business.

The purchase of Apple shares had been back in the day when it was held in certain quarters that the cell phone was the root of evil. Opinions had changed since but Live Corp had held on as the shares had preformed beyond all expectations.

“Human weakness is still a viable philosophy. Lots of people want to use cell phones,” Morag soothed.

“It has been our winner for a while now but the hedge fund needs to find a new star. Something that will rise and rise,” Dutronc said.

“Problem is there is not enough evil,” Maedbh soothed further.

“Disagree Maedbh,” Dutronc said disengaging from her smoothing massage. It was time for their usual routine of scanning the Divisional reports and replying to the afternoon post.

Maedbh sat and took out her notebook.

“Maedbh the world is rife with evil. We need to get a bigger market share,” Dutronc said mildly.

“Yes sir,” Maedbh said agreeably.

“Anything special?” Dutronc asked, picking up the divisional reports.

“A couple of good assassinations. Also there is a quirky item from Technical that I think is worth attention,” Morag summarized.

“Quirky?”

“My area, M for magic.”

“We'll get to that but first the assassinations. They seem to be doing rather a lot of it in Russia? Perhaps we need to ease back? I really think assassination should be a last resort in business. Who organized them?”

“Organized by the A Division as usual. R division requested them. It seems the police in consort with lawyers in Russia tried to rip us off. R division said the only way to sort it was to kill them. They said the Russian courts were no use.”

“No real respect for property law in Russia,” Dutronc agreed. “Better they are careful whom they pick as partners in future rather than to have to assassinate,” he added.

“Noted.”

“Morag, I think maybe an appointment with Weinstein, he's R division is he not? I'll talk to him.”

“Done,” Morag promised.

“Morag where are we on the water project. This is the key project for your area,” Dutronc asked.

“We are very advanced sir,” Morag reassured. “We need to recruit one more key person for the team.”

“Are you on schedule? Our trading room will have to make forward financial commitments and your timetable is critical Morag.”

“We are on schedule Sir. You can give the go ahead to the Hedge Fund Traders,” Morag said.

“Good, well done so far Morag. Who is this extra person you need?”

“Not critical but important for plan B,” Morag said.

“How is plan B?”

“We have put in the extra tunnel as you suggested Sir,” Morag reassured.

“Good, good, anything else?”

“I need a trip to Ireland for the target recruit. I have someone in mind.”

“I'll let you lead on that Morag. Anything else.”

“Something I might use the trip to Ireland to investigate,” Morag said.

“Something quirky you said?”

“I put it on top of your reports Sir. The technical research group thinks they may have spotted something. It's from an Irish Times report.”

“Yes?”

“Maybe nothing, maybe something,” Morag said as Dutronc read the report.

“Two missing feared dead, off the Blasket Islands in Kerry,' Dutronc read out loud.

“That was the headline but search parties found nothing,” Morag added.

“So?” Dutronc prompted.

“The paragraph on local superstitions is interesting.”

Dutronc scanned down the article.

“They say that the locals blame the fairies, saying there is some history of a family vendetta with the fairy folk,” Dutronc looked up and added sarcastically, “Is this really the Irish Times?”

“The missing man is a New York fireman and a hero of nine eleven. So the Times did a major article and sent their people down there. Interestingly although the reports said a local boy was missing there is no record of his existence. Technical thought, strange but interesting.”

“And did they follow up?” Dutronc asked.

“It seems the Irish Times reporter was a good Gaelic speaker and listened to some drunken conversations in the local pub about a stolen child and a suggestion that he'd been stolen back by the Sidhe, which is the local name for the fairy folk,” Morag added.

“Interesting,” Dutronc conceded.

“The Irish times ran a feature on superstition in their weekend review. That part of the world is still Gaelic speaking and the locals are very close mouthed. But they still believe in Otherworld and Leprechauns and the like.”

“But the editor knew a good story. Any follow up?”

“It ran out of steam when there were no bodies found.”

“Recommendation?” Dutronc asked.

Morag extracted the final page of the Technical Report. “Technical say it is a long shot but worth a follow up,” she said.

“Well it's your area. You decide. Perhaps you should pay a visit while the story is still hot. How long is it now?”

“Over a month,” Morag admitted.

“Go now or don't go at all,” Dutronc said.

“Don't forget we are booked for a Broadway show for Saturday week,” Morag offered.

“Business before romance Morag. Anyway if you go now you might get back in time,” Dutronc said laconically.

“And if I don't get back in time?”

“I can take that good looking blonde girl who does reception.”

“Dutronc, don't you dare!”

“Suggest go now and you should be back in time. How long since the incident. Did you say a month?”

“About a month and a week,” Morag said.

“Then get on to it Morag. Trails go cold very quickly,” Dutronc instructed.

Morag made a face and shrugged. Dutronc was not a man to argue with.

“Anything else?” Dutronc asked.

“Money laundering report from South America, we are ...” Morag began, realizing that the agenda had moved forward.

“Arrange for Kenny to come and brief me.” Dutronc interjected, adding, “We don't want a war,”

As Morag went back to her office she felt a twinge of excitement. It was a number of years since she'd made a trip to Europe. And she would expense an Irish trip to Live Corp. Already she was thinking about what she might wear.