Mortal Hearts
By Juli
December 1998
Part 6/9
For disclaimer and warnings, see Part 1.
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The team's enthusiasm carried them through the night, the trio researching well in to the next morning. Sloan had neatly solved their telephone service troubles by arranging a satellite hook-up. Before heading back to London, he'd seen to it that they could research the Legacy's archives with Alex's laptop and a fancy bounced- all-over-the-world-and-back-again connection. It was amazing what kind of technological miracles a whole pile full of money could arrange.
Unfortunately, their research into Sidhe folklore and legends wasn't producing many results. To keep a new bout of despair at bay, Derek found himself wandering over the window and staring out at the forest beyond the cottage's yard. Could Nick feel the warm sunshine where he was? Derek fought an urge to go back to the Sidhe ring, telling himself that Nick wasn't really there and that it would be a waste of time. Realizing that he was only making himself more depressed, the Precept turned from the window to find Alex at his side.
She obviously knew what he'd been thinking. "Why *don't* you go back?"
"He won't be there."
"I know," she said, "but you need to get out. Maybe seeing it again will stimulate something. Besides, the fresh air will do you some good." Alex gamely offered Derek a smile, but it was a wan imitation of her usual grin.
"Maybe you're right." Anything was better than sitting here going over the same dusty old fairytales again and again. Maybe some of Nick's restlessness had rubbed off on him. Turning from the window, the Dutchman reached for his coat.
"Maybe I'd better go with you," Rachel looked a bit worried at Derek going off by himself in his current state of mind. Proving again that, for a trained psychiatrist, sometimes Rachel could be a bit dense.
"Thank you, my friend," Derek's attempt at a smile was even lamer than Alex's had been, "but I'd like to be alone right now." The Dutchman put on his coat and headed out of the cottage, waving a goodbye to the two women watching.
As he moved out of sight, Rachel again expressed her concern. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea."
"I am."
Rachel shot a startled glance at the quiet confidence in Alex's answer. "Why?"
"..........I don't know, but call it a hunch. This is what he needs to do."
"*Needs* to do?" The older woman was still confused. That damn fairy ring was what had started this whole mess out. How could it help?
But Rachel had forgotten that the ring was a circle, and, like all continuous loops, its beginning was also its end.
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Derek was disappointed to discover that, when he reached the Sidhe circle, it was simply a ring of stones. Where was the aura of power that was present the last time? Even when he and Nick had investigated on that doomed morning, there had been a distinct ambiance of something beyond the ken of mortals. But now it was simply a pretty clearing by a stream. The Dutchman cast his senses out, becoming more frantic. If the aura was gone, did that mean the Sidhe were gone? If so, how in the hell would they rescue Nick?
"They're nae here."
Derek jumped at the unexpected voice. Started, he abruptly turned to find a woman standing just outside the ring. She was vaguely familiar and it only took Derek a moment to recognize the woman from the restaurant--the only one of Glasmonadh's citizens who had made any attempt to warn them.
"Anne?"
"Aye." Her eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry ta trouble ye, Mr. Rayne, in this time o' yer sorrow."
Derek didn't ask how she knew. He figured the whole town was aware that Nick'd been taken. Aware and *relieved,* he bitterly reflected, that one of their own had not been stolen away. Still, this woman *had* warned him to hold fast; it wasn't her fault he hadn't listened. "What do you mean, 'they're not here.'"
"The Shining Ones. Tis daylight. Besides, th' moon's nae right."
Derek's heart stopped. Anne sounded like she knew what she was talking about. The Dutchman closed the few feet separating them and grabbed the Scotswoman. "What do know about the Sidhe? Can you help me find Nick?"
Anne reached her hands up and covered Derek's where they rested on her shoulders. "Nae, I canna help ye......" Derek closed his eyes in pain and dropped his hands down to his sides. He was turning away from her when Anne continued. "Wait, Mr. Rayne! Me mum, she be wishin' to have speech w' ye."
Derek was confused. "Why? I've never even met your mother. You're the only Whittington I know."
Anne gave the Dutchman a tired smile. "Well, tis true ye've not been properly introduced, but ye've met me mum. When ye saw her, she wished ye God speed." Derek's eyes widened as he realized that Anne's mother must have been the old woman who'd tried to shame the townspeople into helping him.
"Me mum's not a Whittington, tha's me married name. Me mum's name be Mary Locke."
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Anne Whittington led Derek to an even smaller cottage than the one he'd rented for Nick and himself. It was in rather shabby shape, really more of a shack than a cottage. The ramshackle little building was essentially one room--and a tiny room at that. There were no windows and the interior was dark and musty. It was a mess too, with jars of herbs spilling from the shelves and magazines haphazardly piled in every corner. Even the bed was unmade, with an untidy bundle of blankets rolled up in the center of the little cot. Derek hoped his visit wouldn't be a long one.
Mary's daughter had been very closed-mouthed on the trip to her mother's home. It seemed the old woman was doing very poorly. She hadn't taken Bridie's reappearance and death very well and had been ailing ever since. Derek could sympathize--it must have been quite a shock.
Upon reaching the cottage, Anne proceeded Derek inside. "I've brought him, mum." The woman's voice was soft and gentle, but looking around, the Precept couldn't figure out who she was talking to.
Until Anne knelt by the bed and Derek suddenly realized wasn't unmade at all. It was occupied. At Anne's gesture, Derek's joined her by her mother's side. Time had not been kind to Mary Locke, the long-ago fiance of the ill-fated Willis Bridie--the Sidhe's last victim. She had seemed tiny to Derek before, but the old woman had shriveled up even more in the few days since and seemed to be having difficulty breathing. Mary was very obviously at death's door. Considering her condition, the Dutchman was shocked that her daughter had agreed to leave her at all to come look for him, especially since it was obvious from her facial expression that Anne loved her mother very much.
Derek thought that the old woman was asleep, or even unconscious, but Mary's eyes opened as her daughter gently stroked her forehead and tenderly brushed the wisps of white hair out of her mother's eyes.
"Good girl, Annie. Thank ye kindly." Mary's feeble smile revealed that she didn't have many teeth. "Now, leave us, me girl. Me and this poor man have to talk."
Anne smiled and brushed away a tear that had run down her own cheek. As she rose to go, Derek rose with her. "My friend, Rachel, is a doctor, maybe there is something she can do......." he whispered.
"Nae, Mr. Rayne." Anne's voice was sad and wistful. "Me mum, she would ha' followed *him* but she knew the Shining Ones would be back fer another." Anne gazed fondly down at her mother. "Listen ta her, Mr. Rayne. She's held on jus' ta speak ta ye. Dinnea make her sufferin' for naught."
Anne turned to go, but swung back at her mother's faint whisper. "Annie, me gal, ye've been me light. Ye ken tha', don't ye?"
"Aye, mum. God speed." Anne bent and placed a kiss on her mother's forehead and left the room.
Humbled, Derek knelt by the woman he now knew was dying. "I'm here, Mary."
The old woman turned to Derek. "Yer a bonnie lad. Is yer Nick as bonnie?"
Derek smiled, heartened that Mary'd referred to Nick in the present tense. "Bonnier." He didn't know if that was a word, but if not, it should be.
In spite of her weakness, Mary smiled. "Aye, if *they* took 'im, he would be." The old woman coughed and seemed to catch a sense of urgency. "I had ta tell ye, if ye be strong, ye can wrest him away from those ferlie savages!"
Mary's vehemence made her cough more, the dry hacking wracking her wasted frame. The old woman waved her hand at a nearby table and Derek spied a glass of water. The Precept supported the old woman's head and helped her to drink.
"Aye, yer a good lad." Mary's eyes filled with tears. "Willis, he were a good lad too. A good lad! I told him ta be careful, that *they* would be ridin' soon, but Willis, he were young. The young nae think they be mortal. I knew when he dinnae cum back what'd happened, but no one believed me....." Mary seemed to drift off into her memories. Derek would have liked to have let the old woman have the comfort of her remembrances, but he knew Mary's time on earth would soon be up. He *needed* to find out how to help Nick. After all, wasn't that what Mary had wanted him here for?
"Mary," he gently prompted, "I'm so sorry you lost your love. But you said there might be a way to save mine?"
Focus returned to the old woman's eyes. "Aye. After Willis were taken, I remembered Tam Lin an' how his love, Janet, took him back."
"From the Sidhe?"
"Aye. The Shining Ones, they took Janet's love. But Janet, she were a canny one! She took him right back!"
"How?"
"Tam Lin be taken in the dark o' the moon, just like me Willis and yer Nick. The next month, Janet were ready. She hid on the ferlie's trail and when her enchanted lover rode by, she grabbed him and wrapped the lad in her mantle. He turned into all sorts o' fierce beasts, but Janet held fast......." At this point in her story, the old woman began to weep silently. "That be where I failed. I waited fer the next dark moon and sure enow, the ferlie hunt rode by! Turrible beautiful creatures, they were. I grabbed me Willis, but I couldna hold him. I couldna......." The sobs turned into coughing and Derek once again helped Mary to drink. "See, I was carryin' Anne by then. It dinnae show, but I knew I had a babe on th' way. And the ferlies, they enchant the lads so they fight ye. Willis fought s' hard, I were afeared I'd lose the babe. I had to choose tween the babe an' it's father......."
It was clear what Mary had chosen and that the choice had haunted her
for the rest of her life.
"You chose right, Mary! No matter how much you loved Willis, you couldn't have sacrificed the life of an innocent child to save him." Derek couldn't give this woman much, but if the consolation of a stranger could offer her any comfort, then he would gladly give it.
Derek's reassurance seemed to calm Mary, but her emotional story was taking its toll. The old woman was fading rapidly, but was determined to finish. "Ye be a strong lad. Mind an old woman: they'll only gie ye one chance to save 'im! Hold fast. No matter what sort of ferlie beast yer laddie becomes. Tis only the Shining Ones' tricks. Hold...fast..." Mary's breathing became more labored, but somewhere she found the energy to clutch Derek's shirt and pull herself up. "When the ferlies finally change the lad into a bar o' lead, throw him into the water. Ferlie magic canna abide that."
As Derek gently laid Mary back down on the bed. "Dinnea let them keep another lad. Hold fast....." With that final plea, Mary breathed her last. The Dutchman reached over and reverently brushed his hand over her eyes, closing their empty stare.
Hold fast.
By God, the Sidhe would find out just how strong Derek Rayne's grip could be!
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