"Rian, wake up," said Spiros, his hands sweaty and shaking as he gripped Rian's arm. Curled up in a ball on the floor, Lavender was watching them with wide, scared eyes.
"Niamh's hurt! She's hurt! I need to find her!"
"You had a nightmare-!"
"Yeah, and some weirdo fucking faerie is telling me to stay out of it. My sister is hurt! I need to get to her!" screamed Rian, jumping out of bed and running to his closet. Moving so fast that Spiros didn't have time to blink, he was dressed and shoving several shirts and pants from the hamper into his backpack. They could be washed before he left. Picoseconds later he was preparing to run out the door. But just as he touched the doorknob, a force pressed down upon him, nailing his feet in place.
"Where are you going?"
"SEATAC," said Rian, growling. Jerking against Spiros' hold, he spat out. "I need to sneak onto a flight to Ireland, so I can rescue my sister-,"
"Rian, it was just a nightmare-,"
"It wasn't just a fucking nightmare-!"
"Does Niamh have a phone?" asked Lavender, nervously.
"Her- Her school does," said Rian, pausing for a moment. It's… a reasonable idea. Calling her first would be the right thing to do. We can work out a plan. Feeling defeated, Rian dropped his backpack. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Everything from the chill in his spine to the black pit in his chest was screaming at Rian to find Niamh before it was too late.
"Okay, so let's call her first," said Spiros, horribly calm for how desperate the situation felt. Bolting was the right answer. There could be no alternative. Niamh was halfway across the world; speed was of the essence.
Breathing short, feverish breaths, Rian tried to slow his thoughts down enough to focus. But he could still smell the putrid pit of bodies and feel the earth between his fingers, damp from rotting flesh. Rian scratched his arm, almost able to feel the skin ripping from biting midges. Niamh's voice still rang inside his ears, terrified and alone. What do I do?
"Rian, I know you believe Niamh is in trouble," said Spiros, slowly. Almost like Rian was a spooked horse. "Running off without any sort of battle plan at three in the morning will only get you killed. Then what happens to Niamh?"
"So what do I do?" asked Rian, rushing as he pulled a pair of jeans over his pajama pants. "I can't just do nothing! Niamh is hurt! She's my twin; I know that something is wrong!"
"What time is it in Ireland?"
"What-? …It's three?" asked Rian, glancing at Niamh's crucifix on the wall. "Eleven, I think."
Spiros relaxed, then moved to the door. "Perfect. So let's call her,"
"That… Yeah, we'll do that," said Rian, zipping to the bed and collapsing onto his pillow. Spiros is right. He's always right. He'll fix this.
Spiros walked out of the room. Several minutes later he came back with his flip phone. Urgently, Rian grabbed it and began dialing the number to Niamh's school.
"I need to talk to Niamh,"
"Sorry, um…. My name's Rian Kearney," said Rian, pacing back and forth, so anxious he thought he might vibrate out of his skin. To make things worse, it was difficult to follow what Majella was asking him to do; her voice was too low. Too slow. It was practically inaudible. Rian had to focus on each and every syllable, remember it, then reconstruct it back in his head after she finished nearly a minute later. "Please, I need to speak to Naimh Kearney."
"Yes. Why?" asked Rian, glowering at the phone, tapping his foot and sensing a fight. He was glad for it. The fight was just what he needed to snap back to Majella's time. "You got something against my father?"
"Yeah. Right. Fucking fantastic," said Rian, deeply frustrated. "Look, something's wrong with Niamh! Just put her on the phone so that I can make sure she's alright!"
Without another word, the line clicked and the most ancient, tinny hold music that Rian had ever heard began playing. It sounded like something that would have been played at Christmas mass. Wanting to scream, Rian put the phone on speaker so that he could spend a few solid seconds punching his pillow so fast that his arms became a blur.
"So… Your sister goes to a private school? In Ireland?" asked Lavender, sitting up on her elbows. "So you've got this beach house, and a massive property… Rian, is your dad like, rich or something?"
"Kind of?" Rian shrugged, glad for the distraction. "It's not like he paid a lot for the land. Father is ancient."
"Aren't all parents pretty old?"
"Not really," said Spiros, yawning. "My mom would be about thirty-five if she was alive,"
"Well, Father is like… Almost two-hundred," said Rian, throwing out a wild guess. "And he came here back before Washington was a state. The land was practically free when he got it through the Homestead Act."
"Yeah, pennies then. But now the property taxes alone are fifteen hundred fucking dollars a month," muttered Spiros, bitterly.
Lavender sucked in air through her teeth, cringing at this.
"Yup," said Spiros, poking the fire with the poker. "The house isn't worth all that much, but the property is big and right on the beach.
"And he's never moved?"
"He lived in Ireland during the revolution, but other than that he's been here," said Rian, glumly. Not that he's ever actually here when he's here.
"Whoa…" Lavender picked up the poker to move a log in the fire so that it would burn better. "Don't the neighbors notice he's immortal?"
"No idea. Father doesn't really try to hide it, so maybe? But people move a lot, and Father also doesn't really like talking to people, so…" Rian shrugged. There were charms on the property that kept it hidden, so he had to assume they also kept people from noticing who Eochaid was.
Summoning up a pink, faux fur blanket, Lavender bit at her nail and said, "How rich is he? Or- Is that impolite to ask?"
"I'm not offended," said Rian, as Spiros shrugged.
"Rian says Eochaid's 'kind of' rich because he's always had money," said Spiros, sitting up on his elbows. "I only met Eochaid a few years ago. He's rich. Like, not private yacht rich, but definitely wealthy. Pyralis never spent money on us, but every now and then Eochaid would show up with a few dozen bags of presents for everyone."
"Yeah?"
"I guess," said Rian, bouncing his foot impatiently while staring at the call-time on the phone. "He's got stocks that he got way back in the day. Like, Cola-Cola shares from back in the nineteen twenties or whatever. I think he got into stock trading in the late eighteen hundreds, before he figured out that he was functionally immortal. Said he wanted to build a retirement. But I don't know a lot about it; he has an accountant who deals with that stuff, because he doesn't like keeping up with the modern world."
When Lavender laughed at this, Rian shook his head. "No, but seriously- I've shown you his wardrobe, right? Father stopped following new fashion trends when zoot suits became a thing,"
Rian checked the call-time again, growling impatiently. How long are they going to keep us on hold? "I just wish he told us how to get in contact with his accountant. But they probably don't even know who Eochaid is, much less who we are."
"Right…" Though she looked confused, Lavender didn't question this. For this Rian was grateful until she asked her next question. "So why is Niamh going to a private school, and you're here?" asked Lavender, sounding sad.
"Father says that his property taxes fund the public schools, so he wants us to go there," said Rian, glaring at the phone's ever-climbing call-time and feeling an overwhelming urge to throw the phone at the wall. "As for Niamh… I don't know. She found out Father went to that school, so she just had to go, too. No idea how she convinced him… Niamh's just like that. Father's never been able to tell her 'No.'"
"Oh… I'm sorry…"
"Don't be…" said Rian, pulling his blanket back over himself while agonizing over what he was going to say to Niamh. Will she even want to talk to me? They weren't in the habit of speaking regularly. Niamh believed Rian to be the favorite. Rian believed this to be wholly untrue; there was no question that Niamh was Eochaid's favorite.
Spiros yawned hugely, then lay back down on his camping mat while humming along to the church music like the psychopath that he was. Groaning, Lavender buried her head under a pile of pillows that she summoned.
Trying to distract himself while the minutes tugged along, Rian said, "What are we doing for Thanksgiving tonight?"
"Food, I guess," mumbled Spiros, tossing a few longs into the dying fire. "I've got grape leaves that I picked up at the Ben Thanh. So all I need is some pork meat for stuffed grape leaves. Oh…" Spiros threw his hands up under his head, then bit his lip. "I can make avgolemono sauce…"
"I don't know what that is, but if you're making it, I'm sure it's yummy," said Lavender, prompting Spiros to launch into a story about cooking with his mother.
It was nearly twenty minutes before the music stopped. By that time, Lavender had fallen back asleep, and Spiros was arranging new logs on top of the smoldering coals. Instantly alert when the Christmas mass themed hold music stopped, Rian held his breath until he heard a girl's voice crackle softly through the speaker.
"Niamh?" said Rian, sitting up in bed so fast that he nearly tumbled onto the floor where Lavender was snoring. "Niamh, it's Rian,"
"I…" Rian paused. The flames lapping at the new logs in the fireplace slowed their feast as he thought of an answer. But thinking fast with Niamh was next to impossible. "I was just worried, I guess."
The response was trailing and underwhelming for what he expected.
"Niamh, are you okay? Did something happen?"
Niamh laughed, light and airy. Something had to have happened, right? Although Niamh was not ingenuine, she was as cold and guarded as Eochaid. Laughing was not in her nature.
"I had a strange dream. There was a crying cow…" said Rian, feeling stupid and useless when Niamh began laughing again, this time harder. Oh, she's just laughing at me. "It's not funny! I was worried about you. I heard you crying!"
"Who scared you?" asked Rian, hotly. "I'll come over there and fight them!"
There was another small pause, then Niamh said curtly, sounding more like herself.
Yet again, nothing in her tone indicated that this was true. It was soft and breathy, entirely unlike Niamh. When Niamh spoke it was hard and final, leaving Rian feeling like every conversation was a battle over which one of them was more dominant. Niamh always won.
"Are you sure you're okay?" asked Rian, worried.
"You said someone scared you. Niamh, just say the word and I'll run over there and fucking fight them!"
"Thanks for picking up," said Rian, sinking deeper into the blanket. "And… You're really sure you don't want me to come over there? Really, really sure?"
"...No," replied Rian, the dread pooling deep in his gut in no way settled. "Whatever. Just show this Marci cunt who's the boss, okay?"
"I love you, too," Before Niamh could hang up, Rian said, "What do you want for Christmas, by the way?"
"Almost. Two more days. Tonight's Thanksgiving, but you're probably not celebrating that, being in Ireland,"
said Niamh, humming lightly.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. It's butt-fuckingly cold over here,> said Rian, calculating in his head how much force it might take to punch an ATM apart, and whether or not there was a way to track stolen cash. Or if such a feat risked breaking his wrist, which would require a hospital trip. Such an ill-ventured trip would almost certainly expose them to ORBIT agents. The pocketwatches… Mundane as most of them were, they were also antiques and could fetch a high price from the right buyer.
I could also just risk sneaking onto a plane. While Niamh didn't sound like she was in mortal danger, something still felt glaringly wrong. How do you not know what month it is?
"Yeah. Crows, sun, and a White Christmas with just a drizzle of rain. Hey, maybe they'll let you come home for Christmas. Don't you have a break for the holidays at school? All that sounds exactly like the weather here," said Rian, glancing outside. The sun might be possible. Crows, without a doubt. But Rian doubted there would be enough moisture in the atmosphere in time for a White Christmas. Maybe. It's happened before.
"I'll come over and visit soon. We'll work out a visit when I call back," said Rian, trying to remember any details of where Eochaid stowed away any possible cash that they hadn't already found. Maybe… An idea that Rian hadn't tried since Eochaid first went missing began slowly creeping back into his brain. If we can find the entrance, we'll be able to get to all his fucking bank accounts and none of this will ever be an issue again. "We'll team up and go wren-hunting, like we did in elementary school."
Keep her on the phone, thought Rian, glancing at the call time. "I love you,"
Niamh made a snorting laugh.
The line clicked dead.
"Why'd they take the phone away like that?" asked Spiros, pointing his finger at the fire and focusing hard. One of the logs shuddered, then rolled over to burn better. "Is that normal for fancy private schools?"
"I dunno," said Rian, shrugging. While Rian knew St Mary's thought Eochaid was a bad influence, the school had never been restrictive with phone calls before. If anything, it was the opposite. Rian remembered nights when he and Niamh spent literal hours on the phone together.
Though… Maybe they finally had a falling out with Eochaid. Or maybe the tuition wasn't paid. But wouldn't they just kick her out if that happened? Or… Maybe she got a scholarship. Eochaid the Scatheborne is a national hero in Ireland, thought Rian, sitting up and pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. If they found out she was his daughter, then maybe they let her stay…
"Well, it sounds like everything's good," said Spiros, with a slight amount of uncertainty. "Maybe it was just a nightmare, I'll help you get over there for Winter Break, yeah?" Spiros yawned again, then held out his hand for the phone. "In the meantime, get back to sleep. We've got school in the morning."
"No. Something's wrong," said Rian, spinning on his heel to cast a determined gaze at Spiros. "We need to try finding the Cave again,"