Page 13 of Heart of the Wren
We veered off the laneway and onto the road leading to the farmhouse. It stood in the distance with a single light on in an upstairs window. I paused on the flat bridge. The stream gurgled beneath us. “You know I am, too?
Dara shoved his hands into his pockets for warmth. “Are what? A witch?”
I puffed out my chest. A cloud of vapour filled the air between us. “No, not a witch. I’m, you know…” I found the words stuck to my tongue. “Gay.” Had I ever said it out loud before? Had I ever needed to? I didn’t think so. My belly filled with ice.
“I guessed as much,” he said with a sly smile. “And thank you for telling me. I know it isn’t easy.”
We walked to the front door where I fumbled for my keys.
“I thought you never locked your door?” Dara blew into his hands for warmth and rubbed them vigorously.
“I don’t, usually. But I’ve had a bad feeling recently.”
He stopped rubbing his hands. “Not because of me, I hope?”
I found my keys and held them tightly. “Not at all.” I slipped a key into the lock. “It’s like there’s… I don’t know. Someone watching me?”
He studied my face. He did it a lot, I’d noticed. I felt he wassearching behind my eyes. “I’ve noticed it too. I can do a cleansing of the house. Get rid of any bad energy.”
“Can you? Well, aren’t you useful to have around.” The door edged open.
Dara’s cheeky eyes twinkled in the porch light. “You don’t know the half of it.”
We held there, for a moment, so close we were almost touching. My lips parted and I leaned my head in, only a hair’s breath, and then the dogs arrived, tails wagging, jumping with excitement at the open door. Their tails must have knocked over the hurleys I keep by the coats in the hall as they clattered to the floor. Their paws hooked the door fully open and they rubbed themselves against our legs. The moment was over.
I stroked them and told them to calm down. In the hallway, we stripped off our coats.
“Will you do me a favour?” Dara asked.
I nodded. “Anything,”
“Remember the stone I gave you when I arrived? Will you keep it on you, as much as you can? In your pocket will do. For me. It’ll help, I think.”
“It’s not a family tradition at all, is it?”
His cheeks flushed. “I hope you don’t mind.”
I smiled back at him. “Not one bit.”
The dogs were by his side, to my mild irritation. “I’d almost swear they prefer you to me.”
“I’m a novelty,” he said, petting them both on the head. “They’llsoon get bored of me.”
I ducked at the sharp, loud cracking behind me. A piece of stained glass in the front door shattered like ice on a pond.
“I suppose the door is old, like the mug?” He carefully examined the glass. It remained in place but with a spider web of fissures. “This sort of thing does happen to you a lot, doesn’t it?”
I turned away. “It’s the icy air.”
Dara put his hand on my shoulder, only for a moment. “It’s alright. You can tell me. I know a thing or two. I might be able to help.” He had a very comforting way about him and talked to me as if we were lifelong friends.
I sighed. “It started before you arrived but I wasn’t surprised when it did. It’s like I knew it was coming. I’d felt this iciness following me for a week or so. Like a shadow.”
“Have any mirrors broken?”
“Not yet,” I said. “The last thing I need is seven years bad luck.”
“A week.” Dara pointed to the barn. “So, from around the time the trio of birds arrived?”
