Moon Harper - Part 1
 
by Armond
 
 
Was it chance that brought Sean to Tamsin Caroline's fabulous New England rental house, just in time for the height of the fall folliage? Luck that granted him this space to jam one last time on his harp before he embraced his role as a corporate drone? Or was it his heritage that reached up and grabbed him by his ...harp strings... to force him down a more intersting path?
 

 

~o~O~o~

I. October 22 - Friday afternoon.

Looking back, it’s easier to wonder what if? 20-20 hindsight and all that, hey?

If I had taken the old highway instead of the toll road, or ordered a latte at Starbucks, and not the brew of the day. Or any of a thousand other infinitesimally small decisions, which if picked differently, would have delayed me from arriving when I did. And someone else might have rented it.

But I chose as I chose, and arrived in time to be the first to view the rental house.

I couldn't believe my luck, with an obscenely low weekly rental rate, and ad descriptions like classic New England farmhouse ...idyllic coastal setting ...secluded ...peaceful.

I so needed peaceful.

We'd planned a week at Sandals in Negril, but Sarah threw a curve ball last week and announced we were on 'a breather.'

A breather? Can you do that if you’re engaged? I'd never been so angry, and said things I already regretted.

No way was I going to Jamaica alone -pathetic!- so I voted for fall foliage, excellent seafood - I know, cliché city, right?- and solitude.

In my mind, I'd built this as Youth's Last Hurrah. I'd worked my way up the corporate ladder and with the economy picking up -and multiple mergers on my company's radar- my job would swallow me whole for years to come.

So I brought my harp along.

Harp? Hey? Non Sequitur?

I confess, I play a mean folk harp, and once upon a time, I toyed with the idea making a living at it. My mam hoped I would follow this ‘noble calling’ (her words).

I didn't. A wandering minstrel’s paycheck is not a thing to behold these days. After mother passed away, I walked the more traveled ...erm ...corporate path.

And felt I'd sold my soul.

So, crazy as it sounds, this sans Sarah week, in this setting, is my chance to buy a little of myself back.

Also, since I'm not a big drinker, I knew no better way to wallow in self pity than strumming a few Celtic ballads. You know, the kind where one of the young lovers croaks tragically, the other pines fatally away from a broken heart, and rose bushes from their graves spring up and join together? Where was the gardener when these things happened?

After I plucked just one verse of Loch Lomond, I'd be weepin' and wailin' Sarah's name. Sick, hey?

The drive to the Caroline property was spectacular...
 

 
The rental? Way better than advertized! The place was magical! It turned out to be an old converted barn (I know, cliché again, yeah?) but what they'd done was awesome! Hardwood floors, massive stone fireplace, gigantic four post goose down bed, and a panoramic window that showed the nearby forest in all its orange/gold/red glory.

Naturally, I rented it on the spot from the nice lady and her morose teenage daughter.

I'm miserable at guessing ages, but my best bet was the mother was in her late thirties. With rich black hair, ice blue eyes, and trim figure, Tamsin Caroline would still turn a few heads.

“There's plenty of nearby walking paths, passable fishing in nearby lakes, I'm told, and lovely antique shops in town. If you fancy, a golf course sits down the road. Are you a golfer, Mr. Derhill?”

I shook my head with gusto.

“I enjoy clobbering things, so whacking the ball is nooo problem. Getting it to go where I want? Another proposition entirely.”

Tamsin gave the appropriate chuckle, and continued describing nearby attractions. She was the quintessential New England host; even speaking with the accent of the region, replacing the 'r's at the end of her words with 'aahs'. In fact, she seemed too forced, right down to her cheery smile.

“I can't believe anyone under the age of eighty would come here voluntarily.”

Her daughter, however, was another matter.

“Darcy! How rude! Tell Mr.Derhill you're sorry!”

The sullen look flashing from Darcy's blue eyes told me an apology would be coming when Hell froze over. Again, since I'm so horrible at age guessing, I wasn't sure how old she was. Old enough to think her pretty, but young enough to feel guilty about thinking it, so 16? 17? Her hair was as silky black as her mother's but she wore it in a severe single braid that hung down her back. She had a young Zoey Daschanel thing going too, if Zoey had radiated brooding disgust at that age.

Neither Caroline women were tall, but Darcy stood a good two inches shorter than her mom. That probably pissed her off too.

Since she wore black jeans, a black tee shirt and black jack boots, I figured she was going for some kind of Goth statement. From her dour expression, I expected her to blurt 'polite people get squished first in this cutthroat world'. Which would have led to another awkward moment.

“No apology needed,” I said, as I opened the back door to my Volvo wagon. I wanted to get my harp out before it got too hot in the car and warped.

I loved my harp, or harps I should say; I have three. A cherrywood 34 string Triplett Celtic, a small travel harp, and -my baby- an ancient Brian Boru style wire strung harp.

Mother gave it to me when I was a wee one. I don’t know where she got it, there are no markings or anything to show who built it, but oh man can she sing! Brilliant bell tones that go on forever .

She even has a name. And sometimes, she speaks to me, I swear it. Honest to God, I think Sarah is jealous of her.
 

 
When I looked back at Tamsin, I couldn’t decipher her expression, but I think she suddenly saw me as someone.

“That’s …some harp you have there. We'd love to hear you play, if you're willing,” Tamsin said. Darcy rolled her eyes. Clearly the ‘we’ didn’t include her.

Folk harp players love an audience almost as much as we love playing our harps. So, of course, a fat stupid grin crossed my face.

“Love to. Maybe tomorrow or Sunday night?”

“Sunday evening it is,” Tamsin said. Then her face darkened. “But tomorrow night ...there's one rule I must tell you about. Tomorrow night, a group of women -close family and friends- will gather in the grove over there...”

Tamsin pointed across her property to a magnificent stand of oaks, dripping in autumn gold.

“...it's an initiation for Darcy. And we'd appreciate it if you gave us privacy. Do you mind?”

Heh. My first image? Witches dancing naked under the moon. But that's my dirty mind in overdrive. More likely a bird watching group or some such.

“No worries. I'll hunker down with my harp, so my normal horrific playing improves to mere mediocrity.”
 

~o~O~o~
 
II. October 23 — Saturday twilight

Spectacular day! Frost sparkling in the morning sun, crisp fall air. I started the day off right with breakfast —ya know, the most important meal of the day- at a place called Pellum's Corner. In honor of the farmhouse I was bunking in (though I wasn't sure what, -if any- - farming Tamsin Caroline did; no cows, chickens or crops, as far as I could tell), I ordered the 'Farmer's Breakfast': Two eggs, bacon, hash browns, Boston baked beans and -of course- pancakes with pure Maine maple syrup. Yum.

Next, I took a hike along a breach trail, wandering through a landscape -and sometimes seascape- of sand dunes, rocky outcrops and salt marshes.

Last - hunting. Antique hunting, and New England offered the richest prizes. Mother loved antique stores -Father vanished from our lives when I was two, so I don't know if he also suffered this affliction- and so antiquing was our mother - son thing. I think I mentioned earlier it was Ma who got me harping, finding my baby God knows where and giving her to me when I was old enough to toddle.

To this day, whether I'm antiquing or strumming, I feel her near me. I miss her; she died after I left for college, and whenever I go antiquing, I pretend she's just there, in another part of the store, discovering some ancient, magical and useless artifact.

In my travels today, I journeyed down twisty old winding roads, stopping at mom and pop shops that sold everything you could dream of: home made cheeses, lip smacking sugar maples, and crisp white wines.

So yeah, fantastic day. Lacking one thing: Sarah.

I mooned for her, and by the time I stumbled back to the farmhouse, I was primed to yowl away on sappy love songs. Dusk came, and with it, car lights. I peered out my window, to see a dozen women -in robes- exit their cars to head to Tamsin's grove.

Robes? Maybe my witches guess had been right, hey? Not my business; I closed the shutters to give them privacy.

Still, after an hour, I peeked out, and saw strange glowing light balls circling in the grove. Wasn't sure what could make that light exactly -blue-green pulsing and glowing- but God it looked cool. They reminded me of the ‘fairy lights’ Mother would make to amuse me on summer nights.
 

 
Something about their 'grove doings' super amped my playing. ‘Magic was in the air, as Mam used to say, inspiring me to pull pieces from my song bag I rarely do — tunes of a pagan bent. I played Gartan Mother's Lullaby, Down in Yon Forest, and even the Christmas Carol, the Holly and the Ivy -hey! Since Walmart spring-loaded Christmas decorations to launch into stores the nanosecond Halloween ended, I figured it wasn't too early. Actually, it’s a personal rule of mine that it is never too early to play Christmas carols.

I'd never felt my music this deeply; or so close to my harp. My body thrummed with each string plucked.

Then, things went bad.

Don't know how to describe it, other than the air grew thick and heavy dark, making panic roil my stomach.

Someone’s in trouble!

Out of nowhere, I started strumming an old Catholic hymn called Deus Meus Adiuva Me, or God help me.

It's an uber cool number for a couple of reasons: one, it is macaronic, which is a fancy pants way of saying it has two languages. In this case, Deus Meus is in Latin and Gaelic.

Two, and more important, it's a rare church song that honors God in the masculine and the feminine. In the official Catholic version, one of the stanzas reads:

Domine da quod peto a te,
Tabhair dom go dian a ghrian ghlan ghlé,
Tabhair dom go dian a ghrian ghlan ghlé,
Domine da quod peto a te.

which means:

Lord, give what I ask of thee
give, give speedily, O bright and gleaming sun
give, give speedily, O bright and gleaming sun
Lord, give what I ask of thee.

But those crafty old Irish monks, when they scribed the song, they wrote Domina in the margins instead of Domine, or Lady, give what I ask of thee.

Don't know why, but I kept singing the verse over and over. Stranger still, I felt -felt- light flowing out.

Can’t tell how long I played, but when I finished, I swear the air had brightened. Fatigue hammered me; I crawled into bed fully dressed, and was asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

A knock at my door woke me. I opened it, to find Tamsin, looking as haggard as I felt. The oddest look hung from her face, of …guilt …battling hope …for supremacy? Hey, no one ever mistook me for a 'sensitive male', so this was my best stab at it.

“Mr. Derhill, would you come with me? We …need your help.”

I yawned. “You have heavy lifting or something?”

She showed the saddest smile. “Yes, some very heavy lifting.”

I followed her into the predawn light. The first thing I noticed was all the visitor cars still here. Second, she led me to her 'forbidden grove.'

“You’re sure this is all right?”

“Things are as far from ‘all right’ as they can be.”

It was then I noticed tear streaks on her cheeks. Again, sensitivity and me are pretty much strangers.

“Ms. Caroline? What's wrong?”

“I'll explain in a minute. For now, know we need your help with a matter of life or death.” She stopped and looked me in the eye. “No, of life or oblivion. This is why we’ve …drafted you. We would never do …what we will do …lightly.”

Mysterious much? Since she trudged on, I guessed that was all I'd be getting from her. Fine. Maybe if I helped I’d get a discount on my rent?

I wasn't sure how to take what awaited: twelve blue robed women of varying ages formed a ring around a stone alter. Not the scary 'sacrifice a virgin' kind, but a dais covered in candles and red roses. Darcy lay on a bed of golden leaves before it, and looked asleep. The energy of the group —of gloom and fear- washed over me; I swallowed hard.

“Is she hurt? Should we call an ambulance?”

I started to go to her side, but something weird happened; I bounced off an invisible wall. Like a mime wall, only real.

“Wait,” Tamsin said, pulling an engraved silver knife from her robe. I remember Mam had one of those, too; she called it an Athamé

Tamsin muttered strange words, and cut a door sized hole in the air.

“Walk through here,” she said, and I did, meeting no resistance. Double weird.

I knelt next to Darcy and held her wrist. A faint but steady pulse, thank God.

“I’ll drive her to a hospital if you tell me where one is,” I said, and looked up. I didn't speak another word, because Tamsin stood over me, muttering more foreign words. In her hand she held a long ebony stick. And then...

I couldn't move. Couldn’t twitch. Couldn't blink.

“Understand, Mr. Derhill, we had no choice. Darcy's initiation was a calamity. She's been corrupted by Fomorian dark magicks, which are anathema to Danu. When the initiation ritual was invoked, Danu's essence repelled Darcy’s tainted soul so powerfully, it almost threw her from the wheel of life. Even now, her soul tethers to her body by the thinnest of threads.

Fomorians? Mother used to tell me chilling stories about those folks. She acted like they were true. Think Sean, what’s it mean?

“That Darcy yet lives we have you to thank, for as the two magicks strove in her, your energy flowed to us, and we held her in her body. Just.

Now we ask more of you. Her body and soul are tainted. She cannot live if this remains so. If we separate them —body from soul- and purify the taint from each...”

Separate body from soul? What help did they needed from me!? ‘Lose your life’ fear slammed me now.

“You're wondering, 'why me?' Tamsin said, supplying voice to the question I couldn’t speak. “Necessity decided for us. We needed one with the Talent for what we must do, and you have it in spades. We also need all twelve priestesses to complete the transfer. So by default…”

Transfer? Transfer what?!

Didn't have time to reason it out, for Tamsin rejoined the other women and linked hands. When they started chanting, a cyclone twisting filled my mind.

I wasn't there anymore, instead I was

...falling
 

...falling
 

...falling
 

~o~O~o~
 
III. October 25. Monday Morning.

The sound of a car screaming woke me.

Not just any car, mine. A belt needed replacing, and until I did, my engine death-screeched until it warmed up. That's what assaulted my ears; someone starting my car, and …it wasn't me.

Or …was it?

I was sooo groggy. Like Rip Van Winkle, I felt I'd slept for decades and my mind swam through molasses. I fumbled open the window shade, and the moment I did, light blasted my eyes shut. Squinting, I could make out the barn in the background...

The barn? Hey? What's it doing over there?

...and my car and…

...me????

...in the foreground.

Either I was tripping, or my doppelganger sat in the front seat.

“Hey!”

My mouth spoke the word, but what came out was a squawk.

When ‘twin me’ revved the car and put it into gear, I sprang from bed and ...fell flat on my face.

What’s wrong with me? Everything was off. Wake Up, Sean!

I gathered myself up, and …stared my pink nightgown?

Something scratchy rubbed one of my ankles. Lifting it, I spied a rope tied to a dainty ankle.

What the...?

And …my ankle wasn't the only part of my anatomy now delicate.

I looked down at my chest ...my legs...

“HEYYY!! I've got a ...I'm a...”

“Morning, sunshine. I didn't think you’d ever wake up. You slept through a whole day,” Tamsin said, as if this was normal.

“What have you DONE to me?”

“We switched you and Darcy, Sean. Sean is your first name, right? It wouldn't seem right to call you Mr. Derhill.”

“Wait, what? Switched? No!” Breathing became a struggle.

“Calm down. You're hyperventilating.”

I didn't recall seeing this particular horror film, but it was sure to end bad for me. I had to escape asap. I bolted for the door, but was yanked back by the rope.

“Someone, HEEELLLP!”

“Stop, Sean! You'll injure yourself.” Tamsin came running to me, arms wide.

“Get AWAY!” I yanked hard on the rope, but it held fast. I lost it then, went berserk, started throwing anything I could get my hands on. Tamsin slapped her hand to my forehead, spoke strange words, and I...

...woke up.

Again.

I was back in bed? This time, ropes bound my arms and legs.

“Round 2, Sean.” Tamsin sat beside the bed. “If you’ll stay calm, I will explain.”

I pulled hard at my restraints. “Please please please lemme go! Gimme me back my body! I won't tell anyone, I swear.”

“We will, sweetie, just not right now. My priestess sisters gather here again in two weeks for Samhain; that's when we will return you to your body. I swear by Danu.”

I knew all about Samhain; Mam taught me. Always a big night for her. Time for me to come clean a bit. I did know magic existed, because Mother could work the odd spell or two. What I didn’t know was that magic could do something like this.

“This …can't be happening! …can’t be…”

“And yet, here you are.”

That shut me up.

She was right; here I lay, in a foreign body, a female one, tied to a bed by strange woman. Who worked powerful magic.

I was screwed.

“Why?” I managed.

“Bad Luck? Fate? Being the right person in the wrong place at the right time?”

Tamsin ran a hand through my -now long- hair; I flinched, but then let her. What could I do?

“I'm so sorry, but we had no choice. The alternative was too horrifying to consider; we would have lost Darcy forever.”

Her words in the Grove came back then; I didn't understand, but pieces were fitting together.

“Her initiation. Something went wrong. You said a …poison?”

Tamsin let out a sigh, and her shoulders drooped.

“I knew Darcy was unhappy, but I told myself it was a phase. I was so wrong; it went much deeper. From what her best friend Gwyneth told me, a Fomorian seduced her, we think, and implanted a feydark trigger spell. How could I have been so stupid? They tried to murder my daughter! They may yet succeed!”

Tamsin brought her fists to her eyes as tears traveled down her cheeks. And though she had done this body snatching crime to me, I wanted to reach out to her. I didn't, of course, what with my arms tied to the bed!

Darcy. I was in her body, ergo she was in …mine? Panic rose in me again.

“But she drove away, in my car! How could you let her? She needs to be here this instant so we can swap back.”

Tamsin shook her head. “This is brain surgery tricky, Sean, like unscrambling an egg. She doesn't remember who she was. She can’t. You see, a body and soul poisoning curse comes from darkest Formorian necromancy.”

Fomorians? Mother had a saying about these blokes; now how did it go? I blurted it out when it came to me:

“To fight against Fomorians was all the same to punch a wall by head, to hold an arm in a snake nest or to substitute a face to flame".

“That’s an old Danaan chestnut; where did you hear?” Tamsin cocked an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Back to Darcy …if she carried the memory of the feydark curse to your body, then it too would blacken. So we cast a Lethe spell to wipe her memory.”

“Wipe? As in lose her memories forever?”

How hideous was that? I tried not to imagine it.

Tamsin’s body trembled, and she whispered, “In a way, I have lost my daughter. When she entered you body, she inherited your memories. She thinks she‘s you, and believes she must return to work. One of our sisters followed Darcy to the city to watch over her.”

Darcy thought she was me?

“But I remember who I am. Um, I mean, was. I mean...”

Who was I? What defined identity? Body? Soul? Stop, brain! I soooo did not need an existential crisis now.

“...Anyway, why didn't you wipe my memory too, so I'd think I was Darcy? Don’t get me wrong, it would be the worst thing in the world to lose my life’s memories, but wouldn't that have made everything simpler?”

Tamsin patted my thigh. “Glad to see you thinking this through, dear, it gives me hope you will work with us. We couldn't, you see, if we'd given you access to Darcy's memories, then you would have been exposed to the same Fomor corruption she was; it’s bad enough her —your new- body is tainted.”

Tamsin looked out the window; her voice went whisper soft.

“A close thing. Even with all anchoring her, she almost slipped away. If you hadn't sent energy you did when you did...”

She blinked at me. “Which reminds me. Since you obviously are not an Ord, we are going to have a long chat about who your parents are-”

“-Were.”

“Oh. I'm sorry. You seemed so young, I assumed...”

The absence of my mother still wounds my soul. Maybe it always would. I tried to shrug, but, again, couldn’t because, I can’t move my arms.

“Plenty of time for that later; in the next week, we’ll work 24/7 to permanently expel the taint from her soul and her -now your- body. Can I ...count on you to help? If I release you, do you promise not to run screaming away?”

“Tamsin? How old am I?”

“Hmm?”

“Darcy. Her body. How old?”

Her voice caught. “She just turned 17, the age we are initiated with our Trial before Danu.”

Tamsin grew so sad again; all I wanted was hug her. Which I couldn't, dammit!

“Would you please release me?”

Her face brightened. “So you'll cooperate? And won't dash shrieking away?”

I bobbed my head.

What choice did I have? Either she spoke truth, which meant I had to help her to switch back, or she lied out her ass, which meant I had bigger problems.

Also, this might be kinda fun.

I mean, who gets a chance to be someone else, I mean, really? If Ma told me once of Cu Chulainn choice, she said it a thousand times; given his pick for a short life filled with glory, or a long uneventful one, á‰ire’s greatest warrior chose glory. And what would my mam think of me, shying away from an adventure? I was already in it; why not embrace it?

So, yeah, I agreed.

Also, I had to pee something fierce.
 

~o~O~o~
 
IV. October 26 — late Tuesday afternoon

“Again, Darcy.”

My word of the day? Experiment.

I was the grand experiment, as far the priestesses were concerned. They rallyed to Tamsin’s farm to save her daughter, which meant giving me a crash course in Danaan spellcraft 101. No problemo.

I sat under a massive oak near their grove and stared at my new enemy — a copper bowl filled with small kindling twigs, two feet before me. Chevonne grew more frustrated by the minute; we’d been at this exercise all morning, with zero results. I take that back; I’d given myself a massive headache.

“Don’t over think it. The magic flows around us; we swim in it. To use it, you must feel. If you think ‘and now I access the fire element’, you’ve lost the game. Breathe it.”

Sure. Makes sense, right? Unless you actually try it, and then it makes no sense at all. I’m supposed to activate fire, with my will, and not think about it? Rrriiiight.”

Here's why they were putting me through this misery: the priestesses’ fix for Darcy’s problem was to work a purification on Darcy’s soul —in my body- on Samhain, and for me to work a solo one on her body. Samhain is a powerful time in the Danaan’s yearly calendar, made all the more potent this year because a full moon fell on that night. Heap big mojo, as Mam used to say.

Confused yet? Let me really blow your mind: Tamsin and her ‘sisters’ were all descendants of a people called the Tuatha De Danaan —elves, for God’s sake!- who lived in Ireland before the Celts arrived. As near as I can tell, these people, and their descendants, share a genetic makeup that allows them to access an energy source as yet unrecognized by science (i.e. magic).

They aren’t unique; others exist around the globe, including those the sisters believed magically ‘poisoned’ Darcy, the Fomorians. They were the Danaans’ ancient enemies, who lived in Ireland before the elves arrived. Funny thing is, when I tried to categorize the People of Danaan as the good guys, and the Fomors as evil, Chevonne and Tamsin told things ain’t that simple. Ever.

Welcome to my bold new world. Bizarre right? Frankly, I’ve stopped using that word, because I found myself muttering it more times than the word ‘fuck’ is said in a Guy Ritchie movie.

“Darcy! Your mind’s a million miles away. Concentrate!” Chevonne snapped her fingers.

Concentrate? Yeah, sure. How am I supposed to do that? For one thing, everyone had taken to calling me ‘Darcy,’ which I totally understand, since I am her, at least in body. I guess if you called someone by one name all their life, it would be hard to instantly switch and call her Sean. It didn’t help me any, though.

Also not helping? Chevonne looking so damn hot. She was in her mid-twenties, had copper red hair, and was built. I would never cheat on Sarah, but I could still look at another woman, ya know, and appreciate the gifts God —or Danu- had given her.

“Dar-CY!”

Fine. I swept my long black hair behind my head again for the thousandth time, and scowled back at the copper bowl.

My first task was to learn how to cast a sacred circle.

Step one, I needed to place each of the elements — wind, water, earth and fire- at the four compass points, and activate them. Activating fire meant starting the kindling in the bowl with my ‘intention’, instead of, say, a BIC lighter, which made way more sense to me.

As I said, the only thing I’d activated this morning was a pounding in my head.

“Maybe you guys are wrong about me having this,” I made air quotes, “Power.”

“Nope.” Chevonne shook her head. “A switch isn’t possible with an Ord; like calls like.”

Whatever that meant. “An …Ord?”

Chevonne rolled her eyes; which, since they shimmered green, was distracting.

“Ordinaries. Humans who are magically challenged.”

“Oh. So, the fact you know Norms can’t switch-”

“Use Ord, Darse, Norm’s a character on Cheers.”

I blinked a few times, waiting to see if she was screwing with me, but ended getting lost in those amazing green eyes.

“Erm, okay, anyway, since you already know this about Ords, and er, not Ords-”

“Danaans. We are of the goddess Danu.”

“Rrrrightt. Point is, it sounds like you switch people all the time.”

“It’s not an everyday occurrence,” Tamsin said; startling me as she came up behind where I sat cross-legged, “but it does occur. The Weird Sisters, for example.”

“Weird …sisters?”

“No, The Weird Sisters,” Chevonne corrected. “Triplets who lived centuries ago; they switched bodies so often they forgot who they originally were. You might know ‘em better as the Three Witches from Macbeth.”

I was sooo done with letting them see my befuddled look. I ignored this latest crazy assault and craned to look at Tamsin.

“Sorry, but I’m not getting this fire starting exercise. Can we move on to the next thing? Like turning people into newts?”

“Don’t give up yet, dear,” Tamsin said sitting beside me. She threw an arm around my shoulders; she was becoming more ‘maternal’ by the hour. Only natural I suppose; I mean she did give birth to this body.

“I had another thought. The other night, when you sent your ‘harp energy,’ how did you think about it?”

I scrunched my forehead. “I …didn't know I was doing it, so I guess I didn’t think about it at all.”

“Exactly! Now, try something for me. Your harp has different colored strings, yes?”

My harp. áine.

Her image leapt to my mind; God I craved to hold her in my arms. Then I thought of other things I missed too …Sarah …my home …my voice caught when I spoke.

“I miss her …miss my harp.”

Tamsin ran her hand through my hair. “Oh, sweetie, you’ve been such a trooper, I keep forgetting how hard everything must be for you.”

It hadn’t been too hard so far. But that’s because I absolutely refused to acknowledge the switch.

Oh, sure, some things couldn’t be ignored; I’d be lying if I said otherwise. I mean, good Lord, I’m in a young girl’s body! I explored it, as any person -who wasn’t a zombie- would. And no, I won’t tell you about it.

The thing is, to me? I’m in a loaner, like a car rental. And those cars never feel like my own. Also, it felt … I dunno, wrong, or creepy, to do too much 'exploring', because in my mind, I’m still a twenty nine year old guy.

Chemistry was defeating me; every minute I spent in Darcy’s body, the young woman’s hormones were amping my emotions. I tried to convince myself I’d gone through something like this when I was her age, but I didn’t remember it being such a killer roller coaster ride.

“S’okay,” I said, and sniffled.

Sniffled, dammit it! Stop it, Sean!

“You had an idea about the colors of my …harp strings?”

“A thought popped into my head,” Tamsin said. “What colors are they?”

“Brass, but the Cs are colored red and the Fs are blue, to help you find your place in the strings.”

“Ah! And when you play a C string, do you think about it before you play?”

Where was she going with this?

“On some level I suppose, in the context of the measure I’m playing. But if you’re asking if I think ‘now it’s time to play a C,’ the answer’s no. That would make every song impossibly slow. My hands just know.”

“I see.” Tamsin said, smiling. I could tell Chevonne was as baffled as I about Tamsin’s questioning.

Tamsin stepped back and pointed at the kindling filled bowl.

“Try again, but this time, don’t think about lighting it. Instead, imagine in your mind you are playing your harp.”

“Sure.”

Easy enough; I always had harp songs playing in my head. I still didn’t see how this would make a rat’s ass difference in what we are doing.

“Are you playing?”

I nodded.

“Now, listen. Your red C strings are fire. Play one.”

“What?”

“Don’t think! Play one. Now!”

The finger I would have plucked the string with involuntarily twitched and…
…the kindling burst into flame.

Chevonne woo-hooed and clapped; all I could to do in my stunned state was blink.

“Excellent, Darcy,” Tamsin said. “Now …put it out. Your blue strings are water; pluck one.”

My finger twitched again, and the fire vanished in a cloud of smoking hissing steam.

“I see!” Chevonne said, bubbling. “And the plain strings will be air, yes? But …there are only three colors of strings, right? What will we use for earth? We could paint some brown and-”

“-No you won’t!” I said; and infused my words with as much indignation as I could. Brown harp strings? Sacrilege!

“But honey, it’s only for the visualization,” Tamsin said, in a voice which was clearly mother to pouty daughter. “We need the earth element represented too.”

I cocked my head. “And we have it. The sound board is made of wood; it can be earth.”

Tamsin’s eyes widened; she hadn’t thought of that. Heh.

“But how will you use it to activate the earth? You don’t play the soundboard.”

“Sure you do. Plenty of songs call for you to tap on the sound board. Like Paraguayan harp songs, where you make a heartbeat sound by-”

“-Just show us Darse; show us earth.”

A song sprang to my mind; my hand started tapping the sound board of my imaginary harp. Then, ever so slightly, the earth tremored at my feet to the rhythm of my beat.

“We are in business!” Chevonne shouted, as she high fived Tamsin. Then she bear hugged me -which I didn’t mind at all- before calming down.

“Now you know you can do it, we’ll wean you from having to use the harp image so you can activate the elements directly.”

“I’m not sure we should do that,” Tamsin said.

“Wouldn’t it be more efficient if she could drop the contrivance?” Chevonne said.

“Maybe, but I’m reminded of our history. Tell me, Darse, what do you know of the Dagda?”

First everyone called me Darcy, and now just ‘Darse’. I hoped to God it didn’t deteriorate to Dar.

“Um, Dagda? Wasn’t he a god or something?”

“You should learn of him: he is Danu’s son, the ruler of the Tuatha De Danaan and he invented the harp. He was First Bard, and mighty in skill. He could summon a winter’s night or summer’s day. His three types of music, called Goltrai, Geantrai, and Suantrai, left the listeners in ecstatic delirium, Goltrai, weeping in sorrow, Geantrai , or fast asleep, Suantrai, depending on his mood. His harp had a secret name, would come to him at his call, and only played on his command.”

I started to gape at the impossibilities she recited, but slapped my lips shut, for two reasons: 1) if I kept opening my mouth every time they told me another incredible tale from their world, a fly would eventually buzz in, and 2) I had just started a fire and put it out with a thought, so I needed to be opening my mind rather than my jaw.

Chevonne’s face brightened. “You think Darcy could be a True Bard! We haven't had one in centuries; wouldn’t that be a miracle?”

I had heard of the magic the Irish bards of old could work with their music; Mother drilled it into me. Could I really have this gift?

“Will I have this …talent …when you switch me back?”

Tamsin cocked an eyebrow. “You had it before you were switched, it seems, so the answer must be yes.”

The thought thrilled and scared me, because if I did have this ability, did it mean I should to quit my job and follow another path?

Tamsin patted my head and gave me a hand up. “Time enough for worry later. For now, let’s leave off training for the day and celebrate your break through. Since you did book here to enjoy the regional flavor, let’s make a trip to Barnacle Bob’s.”

“Sounds yummy. Is it like a crab shack?”

“A little more upscale than that,” Chevonne said. Since she looked close to drooling, I figured she’d eaten there before. “I’ll tell May and we’ll change. Meet you at the car in an hour?

“Um, change? I’m okay to go like this right?” I said, sweeping a hand down at the flannel shirt, jeans and running shoes I’d existed in since my switch.

“Nope. You’ll need something nicer. And I know just the thing.”

Uh-oh. The look of pure evil on Tamsin face made my throat go desert dry.
 

~o~O~o~
 
V. October 26 — early Tuesday evening, Darcy's closet

“This is not cruel and unusual punishment, Darse.”

“Is toooo.”

Holy crap! I sound like a teenage girl.

“These are called clothes. We've have worn them, for thousands of years. They protect us from cold, and allow us the option of not parading around buck naked, unless we want to. Are you telling me you want to, sweetie?”

Tamsin's blue eyes looked so innocent, it took me a moment to figure out what she had said.

“What? Naked? Me? Noooooooo.”

I wasn’t bothered about wearing what Tamsin would choose for me. Nope, it was the thought of going out in this body at all.

I hoped I’d serve my two week sentence hunkered down here in jeans or baggy sweats, switch back, and be on my merry way with a fantastic tale to tell my future grandbrats.

I looked away from the long khaki skirt and gray florally cardigan sweater Tamsin held, to the rack filled with grungy black cargo pants, jeans and Ts. Scattered below were pairs of black combat boots.

“Shouldn't I wear those clothes? I mean, to look like the real Darcy, so folks won't get suspicious?”

Tamsin's shoulders sagged. “I suppose, but you ...er, she, never wears the outfits I buy; not anymore. And I thought, this once, I might get to see what they look like on my daughter's body.”

Guilt trip much? Couldn't I do this to be nice? We're just talking about pieces of clothe, right? I huffed out a pained martyr's sigh.

“Guess so.”

“You will? You're wonderful, Darse. And look...”

Tamsin dragged a shoe box from the other side of Darcy's closet. From it, she pulled a pair of gray suede flat soled boots.

“...these will be perfect.”

Actually, the boots looked cool. This was starting to be fun.

Maybe too much fun? Shouldn't I be worried about what was happening with Darcy in my body? I mean, I know Tamsin said Darcy would only have my memories and completely believe she was me, but still, couldn't something go wrong?

"Before I get all decked out, would you do me a favor?"

"Sure sweetie, what?" Tamsin said.

“Would you check on how Darcy is doing in, er, my life? Ya know, to make sure everything is alright?"

"I've been worried about her too, and have been getting daily updates from the priestesses who are watching him,” Tamsin said. "So far, everything is fine."

Not nearly enough. What I needed to know was ...if he had spoken to Sarah.

"Please call, hey? My fiancée and I had a falling out before I came here and I'm worried about what Darcy might do to our relationship."

"Of course, love," Tamsin said, whipping out her cell and punching buttons. "Addie? Tam. I wonder if you could give me a quickie on how Sean is doing."

After several 'um-hmms' and 'I sees', Tamsin thanked Addie and clicked the cell off. Something Addie said made Tamsin blush during the call; I hoped it wasn't bad news.

"Well?"

"Since 'Sean's' return, he’s been spending a lot of time with Sarah, at your place and hers."

Spending time together? Huh. "Did, er, Addie, say what kind of time? Like, quality time or-"

"-Young lover time. Addie saw them going for a walk a few minutes ago, and,” Tamsin reddened again, "they couldn't keep their hands off each other."

What? Guess the 'breather' between me and Sarah is over, but how weird to think about someone else -who was but wasn't me- groping her.

"So good news, right?" Tamsin's eyes searched mine; clearly neither of us knew what to make of it.

I looked into her worried blue eyes and bit my lower lip. "Y-yeah ...guess so..."

"Don't look so sad, Darse, everything will be right as rain,” Tamsin said, wrapping an arm around me.

At that moment, I felt far shorter than my new 5' 3" frame; I was scared, and laying my head on her chest felt right. After some moments, Tamsin pulled away and wiped wetness from my cheeks.

"No tears, luv,” she cooed. "Tonight is about having fun. We've got a date with Barnacle Bob."

60 minutes later saw me sliding into the back seat of Tamsin's dark green Jaguar sedan. Since it had been parked in the garage attached to the house, this was the first time I'd seen her wheels.

“Hey, Mommy, I didn't know farmers were into Jags.”

“Ha! You've figured out by now the whole 'farm' thing is a front. Though it was a working farm when we bought it decades ago, we've done zero farming since. I run the converted barn as a rental so my neighbors won't wonder what really goes on out here.”

We were waiting for May and Chevonne to finish getting ready in that very barn. Both, I’d learned, were priestesses of Tamsin's 'order'; May was actually High Priestess. Oooo. I’d have to remember to be especially kiss-ass with her.

Tamsin told me male Danaan orders existed around the globe as well; the groups practiced their female and male magicks separately, but sometimes they combined to work together. It had always been so; the only reason the Ord world was clueless was because the Danaans went into deep hiding when Christianity swept the Celtic world.

“So what is the place a front for?”

“Powerful ley lines intersect in our sacred grove. We bought it just for that, and I have been the Grove Guardian every since Conner died.”

Connor? Her husband and Darcy's father, I assumed? Before I could ask, May and Chevonne emerged from the barn.

May's silver hair was her only feature which showed her to be the 'elder priestess.' Otherwise, I would have guessed from her smooth face and spritely pace she was in her late forties, tops and not pushing ninety, which Tamsin swore was the case. So how long did these long these Danaans live?

Chevonne scooted next to me in the back seat, dressed in skinny jeans and clingy sweater. Mmmm. She eyed my outfit as well, though I doubt with the same lust.

“Don't you look darling.”

“I was about to say the same about you,” I answered, and forced my eyes up from her chest.

Full disclosure — I did not think she looked ‘darling’. More like smokin’ hot.

Chevonne snickered. “Tam? I think Darcy has a crush on me.”

My cheeks burned. “Erm, no offense ...I mean I'm engaged and wouldn't think about ...urm...”

Chevonne leaned over, brushed her lips across mine, and whispered, “wouldn't think about what?”

That instant, I utterly failed in my quest to ignore my loaner body; my nipples hardened, my breathing grew ragged, and I became squirmy.

“What are you?... we shouldn't...”

Laughing, Chevonne drew back. “You are precious; I've never seen so much color on your face.”

“Don't let her vex you dearie, May said. “We Danaans have never been confined to loving one sex; aren't we supposed to enjoy all the pleasures of the body Danu gifted us with? Mono-sexuality is an Ord invention.”

Wait! All Danaans are bisexual? Mother of God! Chevonne might actually want to...

I halted the thought, for even if I was in another body, I’d be cheating on Sarah if I went down this path.

“If you are quite finished molesting my daughter, we need to be going. Tell her how adorable she is, yes, but hands off for the rest of the trip!”

Yea! Mama Tamsin to the rescue! But …did I want to be rescued?

End Part 1.
 

 
Moon Harper - Part 2
 
by Armond
 
 
Sean -now Darcy- need only learn a Danaan purification ritual to return to her old body. A week in the teenager's body, no more, and then back to his fiancé Sarah and normal life; easy, hey? Not with the entire Formorian race looking to off her, and a harp who suddenly has a mind of her own.
 

 

~o~O~o~
 
VI. October 26th - Tuesday 10PM
 
God the food was fantastic! I was stuffed to the gills with seafood - get it? Seafood? Gills? Arf arf- and could barely waddle out to where the Jag was parked outside Barnacle Bob's.

Bob's specialty dessert called -I kid you not- a Flaming Barnacle, was divine. Bananas and rum and chocolate, yum! It was the only alcohol I was allowed to consume, dammit, no matter how much I whined I was really 29.

Best part of the dessert though? My 'Danaan sisters' made me practice 'element control'; every time the waiter snuffed the flame out, I would restart it with a thought. Hilarity ensued.

Chevonne and I stepped out of the restaurant for a breath of autumn night air while the 'grown ups' paid the tab.

The air was bracing but my legs shivered a bit. “Skirts! Stupid design; why would anyone think these are practical in cold weather?”

“But you get to flash some of your rockin' legs,” Chevonne said, “which more than makes up for the discomfort, yes?”

The light in her eyes told me she was having fun, but still, why someone would make themselves miserable for fashion sake.

“No! If that's what you have to do to attract someone, is he even worth it?”

“You held this enlightened view in your old body, right, Darse?”

I loved it when Sarah wore a short shirt, but in warm weather, right? Before I could search my memory to see if I was riding the Hypocrite Train, a car pulled beside us.

Nothing screamed 'evil'; no skull wielded on the hood or spikey monster tires or such. It was a blue Ford Fusion, for Christ sake. But some sixth sense made me jump back.

As I did, Chevonne hissed, “Formorians!”

The window rolled down and a man …ish thing stared at me:
 

 
Other leathery beings leered at me from deeper in the car. The manthing spoke:

“D-arcy C-aroline! How surprising …how unfortunate …to see you …alive. Roth swore you were to undergo your initiation?”

I couldn't place his garbled accent, but the way he pronounced his words turned them grimy. I'd never seen him before - I'd remember someone as creepy as he- but obviously he knew Darcy.

My massive cranium rocketed into action, synapses firing at faster-than-light speed, to formulate an incisive reply -I was going with “uhhhh”-, but before I could give it, Chevonne pushed me behind her.

“Does Bres slobber more than usual on his throne? Has he grown so senile he forgets our last encounter?” Chevonne raised her hand, and shouted, darien!”

A whoosh enveloped me, and now a gauzy barrier stood between the creature and us.

“Impress shield, Danaam scum, but the contagion is already in her, don't you know. Do us a favor, Darcy, and this time …die.”

He raised a gnarled hand and barked, “du anhwyl dod byw”.

Burning pain! I doubled over and slammed the ground while something ripped its way out of my stomach.

“Chevonne! Help!” I coughed more than spoke, as blood filled my mouth.

The creature howled, “Why aren't you dead?” even as Chevonne shouted llosgi! and flames exploded onto the car.

And then I knew blackness.

~o~O~o~
 
VII. October 28 - Thursday noon
 

At least something wasn't crawling its way out of my stomach.

What I felt like, was something had crawled out, grabbed my hair, and swung me by it to body slam me a dozen times on the pavement - I hurt everywhere.

When I felt brave enough to open an eye, I found I was back in Darcy's bed, with Tamsin seated beside me.

“Hey?” I whispered.

She grabbed me in a hug, and I felt her shudder sobs before she pulled away. “Siofra and May said you'd be okay, but until you woke I wasn't sure.”

“Siofra and May-?”

“-Worked a massive healing. We were right; whatever foulness the bastards poisoned you —Darcy I mean- with, wormed its way into your body and her soul. If your soul hadn't been untainted, you would have died…” Tamsin's blue eyes glistened with tears.

“...and it would have been my fault, for I …I forced this switch on you. You could have died because of my selfishness. We will switch you back, I swear it.”

Her zeal surprised me. I never thought I wouldn't get switched back; was it even a possibility? Death, or banishment from my body forever - the stakes of this ‘game' loomed large.

“What was that thing last night? And what did it do to me? It hurt so bad!”

“Oh baby!” She hugged me again. “Not last night; two nights ago. You've been in a coma since. Formorian slugs! We've triple reinforced our wards, so we should be safe.”

In a coma? That scared me more than the memory of whatever attacked me. In a way, hadn't I been dead for those days? I tried to recall a memory of it, but only had the vague recollection …music.

“You're safe now, sweetie, don't worry…” She stroked my hand and used her 'mommy kiss it and make it better' voice.

“But, if I was poisoned …if I almost died, you should have raced me to a hospital, for God's sake!”

“We would not do it 'for God's sake,' love. We are Danu's children, and human medicine is not our way; ours is a different path.”

Like, what, Christian Scientists? Relying on prayer instead of modern medicine and surgery?

“You've never, in your life, taken an antibiotic?” When she shook her head, I couldn't stop the words.

“Holy crap! As far as races go, you Danaans are eating with only one chopstick.”

By the curl of Tamsin’s lip, I'd say I amused her. “And yet, we live far longer than humans.”

“How much longer? Twenty, thirty years?”

“Hard to say.” She shrugged. “While we live in the earth realm, we age near human rate, but when we travel to the Summerland, we are renewed and extended.”

Wait, what? Summerland exists? Mother went on forever about the wonders of this Never Never land when I was a kid; you mean it’s actually real?

Oh crap! My mouth flapped open; she'd done it to me again.

“Uh huh. Still, Darcy's body's poisoned you said. Modern medicine must have an antidote or-“

“Modern science has no remedy for a disease afflicting body and soul!”

I gulped. “But I am cured, right? You said May and … um-”

“-Siofra…”

“Yeah, Siofra healed me, hey?”

She shook her head. “They worked a powerful healing, but the feydark curse is insidious. It is in remission. Our best option remains a Samhain purification.

I collapsed on bed; everything was alien, complex and depressing. Maybe I was going to die.

“Hey! Everything will work out, I swear it,” Tamsin said. “We've lost some days, but we'll have you ready. Also, an old friend of yours showed up yesterday to lift your spirits.”

Old friend?

I couldn't imagine who among my friends she could risk exposing their secret world to, but when she stood, I saw my 'friend' in the corner of the room.

“You brought my harp to me? How …incredibly thoughtful, Tam; you knew how much I need her."

"Er ...don't give me too much credit," Tamsin said. "The harp ...showed up."

"Showed up? What do you mean?"

"Just that. Appeared. Here. By itself. Look, we Danaans are used to wondrous magic, but this has even us surprised, and-"

-I'd heard enough; I jumped out of bed …and toppled to the floor. I would have face planted if Tamsin hadn't caught me. I really hadn't moved in couple of days. I must have had to pee sometime too, right? I didn't want to know how …or who …took care of that duty.

“Where do you think you are going, missy?” Tamsin said. “It's back to bed for you.”

Missy? Lord, the mommy in her can’t help it. “Please …may I play her a little? It's been days since I've touched her and I'm going through harp withdrawal. It's worse than DTs”

“Don't you think it odd your first impulse after awakening from a near death experience, still in a foreign body, I might add, is to play your harp?”

Why? What could ever be wrong with playing my baby? My fingers itched.

Tamsin sighed and nodded her head. “But just for a moment. You'll only be bed released when May clears you.”

After she frog walked me to a chair beside my harp and plopped me into it, her eyebrow shot up.

“Your harp is a she?”

“Oh yeah!”

I wondered if she was going to be pissed at me for leaving her for so long. Had the new Sean played her? Would she know it wasn't me?

“Does your harp have a name?” Tamsin asked.

áine.

She whispered her name in my ear the first time I played her.

A true harp has a secret soul name, and if you are lucky enough to find one -or have one find you- then you know to never tell her name to anyone else, ever.

I looked at Tamsin, and smiled.

“I see. We really need to have a chat about who your parents were, Sean.”

The second time she'd mentioned that. My mam? I could talk about her for a year and a day. My father…?

When I was a wee one, Mother told me Da had 'gone beyond the Summerland,' whenever I'd be asking after him. As I got older, I figured she meant 'he died' in little kid speak. Mother was eel slippery on the subject, and at a certain point, I stopped asking. I resolved once I became an adult, she and I would have a heart-to-heart about who he was. But then, she died.

And now, to learn Summerland exists? Would that mean Da’s alive, too?

I shook my head, heaved a ragged sigh, plucked middle C, and warmed up with a few glissandos and arpeggio rolls. áine was in tune, so someone had played her, but…

Where have you been?

Hey!? áine never spoke this clearly before. But speak she had and …she was pissed.

“I've been missed,” I giggled, and dove into an Irish Jig called The Butterfly

It's a light and airy piece; just the kind of mood lift I needed.

Too airy, as it turned out, for after several bars, Tamsin startled me by putting her hands on the strings to dampen them.

“Darcy! STOP!”

“W-what? Why?”

Looking at her, I figured it out all by myself. Her hair was tussled, and wind still swirled about the room.

“Did I do that?” I asked in a small voice, once the gale died down.

“I thought so.” Tamsin crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You are a True Bard.
 

~o~O~o~
 
VIII. October 28 Friday 8AM
 
 

 
Snow! October Snow! Dusting the fall colors in white! I loved snow. It made me as giddy as a …

I let out a pained sigh and mumbled, “school girl.”

Yup. That's me, and would be, for another 4 days. A mere 96 hours; easy peasy.

Though it raised a question: Darcy is …or I am, 17, Tamsin said. Shouldn't she be in school? Had she graduated early? Was she home schooled? Or did the Danaan do it different? Yet another question to quiz Tamsin with.

After a shower, tooth brushing, and a semi successful stab at organizing my long wet hair, I jumped into some underwear thingies. The bra went on without too much drama, so yay me.

Picking an outfit didn't overload my brain either; black clothing filled Darcy's closet, and from these, I nabbed the single pair of non-black jeans (i.e. blue) and a black long sleeve T shirt. Gotta say this for the girl, her style was consistent.

A third of Darcy’s closet held clothes given to Darcy by Tamsin. Obvious for two reasons, they had colors, and price tags hung from them. From here, I grabbed a fuzzy royal blue sweater/coat number. If you put a gun to my head, I'd call it mohair, but I'm stupid about these things.

Darcy's obsession with jack boots didn't bother me today; with the colder temps and snow, these were practical.

I stopped in front of Darcy's vanity to check myself out. Meh, a little pale.

A little pale? Like I care? Yeah, I guess I do.

I let out another one of those martyr sighs I had perfected since my switch. Tamsin applied makeup stuff on me the other night; she said with my dark lashes and fine skin, I didn't need much but…

Lord help me, I'm going to slather this crap on. First, I tried to imitate the way Tamsin patted a powder blush on my cheeks. Then, I rubbed gloss across my lips, as I repeated the mantra 'just like chapstick.”

My grooming duties complete, I followed the smell of bacon, which I hoped would lead me to a hot breakfast in the kitchen.

No disappointment there; Tamsin had the aforementioned bacon piled in a plate, along with scrambled eggs, skillet potatoes, and blueberry muffins.

“Where's the coffee? I- I need coffee! Must. Have. Coffee! I-”

“Don't panic, Darse, we got you covered,” Chevonne said, handing me a steaming mug.

Talk about hyperfocusing! Only after a long draw of the black elixir, did I notice a breakfast eating crowd, staring at me.

“Um, good morning? Snow, hey?”

I was a regular standup comedian, cause everyone was snorting and guffawing; Chevonne, Tamsin, the healer Siofra, and a younger novice priestess I'd met yesterday evening, Gwyneth.

Yes, everyone was having a merry old time at my expense, except the blonde haired man wearing sunglasses. As tall as he was broad shouldered, he wore an Italian leather jacket, and a jaw line that screamed to be used as a male model. You know, Mr. Perfect Face. Except, it wasn't perfect, his nose had been broken, and it gave him a chiseled appearance.

Wearing sunglasses? Inside? On a snowy day? What's up with that?

I didn't ask, opting for another long gulp of joe. Mystery man would be explained when they were ready. See? I'm learning patience.

Tamsin stopped her puttering in front of the stove to stare at me, and her eyes watered. I knew I had mucho to learn about fashion, but I didn't think I was so bad I brought folks to tears.

“You look so cute, Darse. I never see you -her- take the time to …to…”

Oh. Those kind of tears. The real Darcy must never have given a shit about anything, if I can wrench water works from Tamsin with this pitiful effort.

“Darcy, meet Leolin,” Tamsin said, after clearing her throat. “After your attack, we called for help, and the Fianna Order sent him to protect you.”

Fianna? And who the hell are-

“-Think cross between Navy Seal and Secret Service, and you'll have a good idea of what the Order of Fianna Knights is about, sweetie,” Chevonne said.

“You know, you could at least let me finish the thought in my head before you crap out the answer.”

“Where's the fun in that?” Chevonne said, flashing her 'evil' grin. “Oh, and the reason he is more aloof than the typical Fianna, is he thinks this assignment is beneath him.”

Leolin grunted. “I did not devote my life to the Shining Sword Path to babysit a bratty girl.”

“Hey, I'm not…”

a bratty girl, was what I almost said. Almost explained I wasn't a girl at all, an in four days, I would be back in my adult body. Almost. But I figured Webster's Dictionary had a picture of Leo under the term “self-important prig,” I doubted anything I said would matter. So I dialed my voice to whiny and turned to Chevonne.

“…even going to think about what's next on my training list until I scarf down a muffin or three. Leo, be a dear and hand me the big one on top.”

Heat-anger waves radiating off Leolin, so hot, I was sure Tamsin would be able to fry another egg on them. Heh! I'd done an admirable job of suppressing a snarky grin, until Chevonne murmured, "well played."

“I'll be out checking the wards again, in the off chance there might actually be a need for me here,” Leolin huffed to Tamsin, before stomping out the door.

“Dar-CY!”

Uh-oh. Tamsin's hand had gone to her hip.

“Do not antagonize the Fianna; none are more deadly in battle! And he is here to protect you from the Formorians, since they've targeted you for some reason only Danu knows.”

“Er, sorry. You're right, and he also must be in so much pain too, because of his condition.” I shook my head in what I hoped was a demur way. “It was wrong of me to make fun of him. I'll apologize when he comes back in.”

“Condition?” Siofra asked, wondering, I guessed, if there was healing to be done.

“Yeah, the metal rod jammed up his ass!”

Chevonne snorted coffee out her nose, which drew a scowl from Tamsin.

“Do NOT encourage her!”

"But it's true!” Chevonne said, still snickering. “The Fianna are stuck up to the last man and woman of them.”

After breakfast, Chevonne, Siofra, Gwyneth and Tamsin -the four horsewomen of doom, my witty brain chirped- herded me to Tamsin's living room, and made me sit cross-legged on the floor. They sat likewise, facing me.

“Lots to cover, so let's get cracking,” Chevonne said. “Since you can activate the elements, your next lesson is circle casting, followed by a Goddess invocation. And then, the purification ritual.”

“Um, sounds complicated,” I mumbled.

“We've lost precious time because of the Fomor's assault on you, and must sprint to have you ready by Samhain,” Soifra said. “At least the attack revealed the nature of the corruption.”

I liked Soifra the moment I met her. All the Danaans were blessed with physical beauty, but the healer's hazel eyes held such warmth; I trusted her completely.

“Soifra? How bad is this spell? I mean, after your healing I feel fine…” except for being in the wrong body …”so do we need to wait until Samhain? Let’s get Darcy back her, you work your magic on her now, and then do your body switch-a-roo, yeah?"

The gentle healer shook her head. “When we switched your souls in the grove, all so the blackness infecting Darcy’s soul. And when I healed you, I felt the darkness yet there, I could not push it out. Left untreated, it will corrode both of you until…”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence. I shot a ‘how could you do this to me’ look to Tamsin, and she mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’

“There is a greater horror here still, Darse.”

That yanked me out of self pity mode. “What…horror?”

“Fomorian spells abound to attack a person’s body, but to infect a soul, means one thing.” Soifra shook her head again.

“C'mon, guys,” I growled. “I'm the one who almost died. Spill!”

“The Goddess blessed us with a natural immunity to such an attack,” Gwyneth answered. “The only way something could have stained Darcy's soul is ...if she had allowed it.”

“Why the hell would she do that?” I threw the question back to Gwyneth. “You’re her age, yeah? Weren't you BFF or something? Didn't she confide in you?”

Gwyneth shot a look to Tamsin. “I-I can't do this. I know she is someone else, but I see only ‘’Darcy’ and-” Gwyneth jumped up and ran out the front door; headed, I guessed, for the barnhouse.

Why did she act that way? “Um, did I say something wrong?”

“No dear, no,” Tamsin sighed. “Gwen and Darcy were best friends since they were wee barnies. Then, a year ago, Darcy severed their friendship in the cruelest way. Calling Gwyneth vile names, and telling her she never wanted to talk to her again.”

And this was the person now living my life with Sarah? Peachy.

Ohmygod! Wait! I'd been unconscious for days. What was going on in my real life? Panic bubbled in my stomach.

“Tell me how she's been doing as me,” I blurted, locking into Tamsin’s eyes. “I need to know everything is still okay.”

“I …don't know how to tell you this...” When Tamsin wouldn't return my gaze, I knew something horrible had happened.

A million worse case scenarios zipped through my mind.

Darcy as 'me' had broken up with Sarah, or…

…she got me fired from my job, or…

…or worse, what if she physically hurt Sarah?

No no no!

“What happened? Tell me!”

None would face me; but Tamsin kept speaking.

“Two days ago ...'Sean' and Sarah ...married …in a civil ceremony. The urge hit them and they did it.”

What? What?! My ears started ringing and head pounding.

“No. NO! That can’t be!”

“Aw c’mon, this isn’t so bad,” Chevonne said. “At least years from now, when Sarah accuses you of not remembering your wedding, it will be true.”

“You think this is funny?” I jumped up and fought the urge to smash something. “This is my life being screwed. My Life!”

Chevonne’s eyes widened “I’m sorry Darse, I-”

“-Change me back, NOW!” I screamed at Tamsin.

“We can’t, love, not until-”

I didn’t listen to another word, instead running to my —Darcy’s- room, slamming the door and crashing on the bed.

I cried.

Two tiny words; but what an understatement! I sobbed and couldn’t stop, convulsing so hard my stomach muscles cramped. Everything everything hit me.

Until now I’d pretended this ‘adventure’ was a game, not believing lasting harm would come.

Then some thing tried to kill me.

And now, this.

Married. To Sarah.

And I wasn’t there.

Maybe the most important day of my life, and a stand in did it for me!

I didn’t even know if I wanted to be married. Not yet. Not yet.

I needed to do something, NOW, or I would explode.

Come to me.

I raised my head to look at áine.

Come.

Blurry-eyed, I stumbled over, plopping in the chair beside her, and pulling her to my chest.

Play. What you feel. A lament. Play Bonny Portmore.

Yes! That’s what I needed!

I started, and played in the Aeolian mode; if you forced me to describe it in modern terms, I’d call it a minor key. I play in the 7 modes enough to know each by feel, for example, the Ionian sounds like the modern do re mi scale. The Dorian mode has a melancholy air to it. But the Aeolian mode —used in tons of blues songs- conveys despair.

And so I played.

I don’t know how long I sat there. I had so much pain flowing out me; a total loss of my life. But when I finished, I saw Tamsin, Chevonne, Soifra, and Gwyneth sitting on Darcy’s bed, hugging each other. Tears streaked their cheeks.

“Please please stop, Darcy,” Tamsin whispered. “We can’t take anymore.”

I managed a little grin, “I’ve been known to make people wince from my terrible playing, but this is ridiculous.”

“No, we’re serious,” Chevonne said through gulping sobs. “If a True Bard has the fire of inspiration on her, she can do anything, even make her listeners hearts burst from sorrow.”

Were they saying I was killing them? My hands started shaking and I yanked them away from áine’s strings.

We are powerful together; did not you know?

áine spoke more and more; what did it mean?

It is time you learned who you are, Shauna Deirbhile.

“Darcy? What’s wrong,” Tamsin asked, walking over to me.

“Everything, I-”

She put a finger to my lips. “I’m so sorry. I threw you in this, then ignored all you suffered, focusing on preparing you to work the purification and switch back. It’s so easy to pretend you are ‘Darcy’ and act like your real life didn’t exist-”

“-I’d been doing that too,” I said. “Pretending this was a short term fling; you know, not real. When you told me Darcy married Sarah …it all came crashing down.”

“Yeah, we felt your pain in your music,” Chevonne said. “Almost fatally so.”

Blood drained from my face. They were joking right? My music couldn’t do that. “I didn’t know I could do this. My music never had this …impact …before.”

“Don’t be sorry. The Goddess be praised but you are gifted!” Chevonne said, draping her arms around me.

“Tamsin? Chevonne?” Leolin voice thundered from the living room. “Come here! I found a Formorian friend hiding in your woods, bawling from Darcy’s little concert. I need help interrogating him; it’s time to learn why these shits are so fascinated with your brat.”
 

~o~O~o~
 
IX. October 28 Friday late afternoon
 
Gwyneth and I weren’t making progress. Not even baby steps.

We children were ordered to stay in my —sorry, Darcy’s- room while the grown up Danaans ‘questioned’ a spy Leolin captured in the woods. Leo found where the creature hid, because the thing was bawling with tears, from my playing. Go figure.

I’d peeked into to the living room where they held him. He looked frozen to his chair; Danaan restraining magic at work, no doubt. He also looked like a hideous extra from a Hellboy movie. I’d assumed those were all CGI, but looks like they were flesh and blood. I wondered if they were union.

So bogymen exist; how creepy is that? How many more lurked out in the woods? And …were they truly after me? I shivered.

Gwyneth wasn’t having much success forgiving me for the hateful words that came from these lips. She couldn’t manage to look at me for more than a second before she would turn away.

I, on the other hand, was giving serious consideration to hot wiring Tamsin’s Jag and zooming straight to my old apartment. My plan ended there; I had no clue what I’d say to Sarah and ‘Sean’. All I could think about was how I needed to get back home, to get back to my body, to undo what Darcy had done.

“Gwyneth, er Gwen? Would it help if I apologized for what I said?”

She blinked. “Hmm? No, Darcy called me those things, not you, so why would you-”

“-I’m sorry. If I could take back the words, I would. Forgive me.”

Gwyneth looked confused. “But you didn’t say them. You don’t even know what she said.”

“I know, but I thought, if you could hear her voice asking for forgiveness, it might help.”

“Though I appreciate the gesture, I-” Gwyneth stopped mid-sentence. “You aren’t her, are you? I mean, I know you aren’t, I was part of the circle when we switched you, but it’s hard to get past appearances, and you look so much like her well …you are her in looks, I mean…”

She was getting lost in the whole identity confusion thing; not like I hadn’t struggled with this since the switch. Time to throw her a life line. I held out my hand.

“I’m Sean Derhill, temporarily Darcy Caroline. Glad to meet you.”

She took and shook it, a smile spreading across her face.

“Pleased to meet you. Gwyneth O’Keeffe; the girl who’s been treating you like crap.”

“S'okay. Darcy was shitty to you —I guessed as much; try to suspend your wrath for the next few days is all I ask.”

“Deal. Though, you being her for that time offers an …opportunity. Darcy’s personality changed over a year ago; she swapped her cute clothes for boring black, told me she never wanted to see my face again, and started cavorting with the Fomors, it seems. Let’s do some CSI’ing to figure out why.”

CSI’ing? That’s a verb now? What happened to Nancy Drew sleuthing?

“What’d you have in mind?”

She motioned to the MacBook on Darcy’s desk. “Darse kept a video diary. Let’s dive in and see what she’s been up to.”

I walked over with her, though I was pretty sure we wouldn’t be able to view it. Darcy would have put password protection on it, you’d think? If it were my deepest darkest thoughts, I know I would.

When Gwen fired it up, I realized this might not be a problem; the Mac had a finger swipey thing for security. I gave my index finger a ‘duh’ look.

“Oh.” I swiped it, and we were in.

After I fumbled around too long looking for the program, Gwen said "move" and shoved me aside. She clicked on the Video Diary icon, and, bam! I was looking at the deepest most personal feelings of the young woman whose face and body I wore.
 

 
“These entries were before she …changed. When she and I were still…”

Gwyneth’s words dissolved to choking sobs, the kind made by someone trying not to cry, but failing.

I reached out and hugged her —it felt right to do- and she clasped me hard.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and we turned back to the bright face on the screen.

“You sure this is okay?”

Did I feel guilty? You bet! What right did I have to be looking at this? Yeah, I was in the body that made the diary —again, sooo weird- but I would be out of it soon, so wasn’t I …I dunno, being a rude house -or body- guest by doing this?

And why do girls make diaries if they don’t want them to be read? Or worse, shoot a video of it? Is it introspection they crave? Or did they want it to be seen, deep down?

Gwyneth came to a different conclusion. “We are doing this for her. We’ve got to understand what happened to her, and when.”

The next hour was bleak; Gwyneth and I watched the tragedy of a vibrant girl decline into despair. Three months after her first entry, Darcy told us she met a boy. Though she didn’t attend high school —Gwyneth explained Danaan children were home schooled, except for the summer months, when they gathered at camps for Danaan spellcraft training- Darcy had taken to sneaking into town every so often.

At first, her AWOL jaunts were no more harmful than fast food runs. Until she met …Roth.

The vid entries changed. She turned giddy in the webcam clips, in the grip of ‘young love.’ At first, Roth showered Darcy with affection, something the Danaan —who must have been particularly sheltered living out here- had never experienced. She gushed over several uncomfortable clips about how dreamy the mysterious boy was.

Then …her looks changed. She used white foundation, applied dark, thick eyeliner, and blood red lipstick. Her grunge wear appeared too.

Worse, her expression saddened, deadened, clip by clip, as she explained how Roth asked her to change this or that, for him.

The saddest clip, by far, was one of the last, where Darcy showed awareness of her manipulation by the boy. Defeated and self-loathing, she confessed to the webcam that all she ever wanted was to be loved by someone.

“Those bastards!” Gwyneth hissed. “They did this to her! If only I’d known!”

We didn’t think it could get worse but it did; in the last vid clip, a breathless Darcy told of a mysterious tattoo artist Roth took her to so she could prove her love for him, and how the man worked his needles on her back, just above her butt.

“You got a tattoo?” Gwyneth asked.

"What? No, I-"

"-Oops! Sorry. But you've seen it right?"

I shook my head. "I'm really really trying to pretend this hasn't happened, Gwen, but it ain’t working." I’d turned the whine knob up to full again. “People trying to kill me, Darcy in my body screwing up my old life..."

"Chill, girl, you'd think you were on your period the way you went off. You aren't are you?"

What?! I hadn't thought about that. "Mother of God, do you think I am?"

Gwyneth giggled. "I wish to Danu I had a snap of your face. I doubt you are dear; believe me, you'd know. Now, turn around so I can see this tat.

I did; Gwyneth lifted my shirt. And went silent.

"Well? C'mon, what is it?"

“Bad," Gwyneth whispered, and led me to Darcy's dresser where she hiked up my shirt back again. I craned around to see:
 

 
Yeah, nasty looking design, but it wasn't a skull demon biting someone’s head off or anything.

"Not so bad, hey?"

Gwyneth cleared her throat. "I've studied this in my training, and -we need Tam to confirm- but I think it's like a parasite. The "eye" punches a hole in your auric shields. Through this opening they cast the spell that leeched onto your body and soul.”

All in my mind, I’m sure, but now, the damn thing itched.

“Get it off!”

“Umm …can’t? It’s a tattoo? We’ll figure something out, but for now-”

Leolin burst into the room. “You. Darcy. With me, now! We’re leaving.”

“I …what? Why?”

Tamsin followed the Fianna warrior. “The Fomor talked. A band of them are nearby; they’ve come for you, tracking you somehow. Chevonne’s going with you; she’ll explain everything; she’s bringing Leo’s car around.”

Tracking me? How? My back itched again. Crap!

“Don’t stand there looking stupid. Move!” Leolin yelled.

I looked at Tamsin. “What about you? They’ll kill you! And Gwen and May and-”

“-Don’t worry for us, sweetie, we can defend ourselves. And, from what the Fomor told us, they want you, and will follow you, I expect, when you leave. Hurry!”

Shauna don’t leave me!

Never again, áine!

“My harp, she comes with me.”

“Not an option,” Leolin said. He grabbed my arm and started pulling me to the door.

I yanked free and ran to gather áine in my arms.

“I said, She. Comes. With. Me!”

Leolin glared at me before growling:

“Fine, bring the damned thing, brat. But do it now!”

The next minutes were adrenalin rushed blurs. Leolin threw me and áine —no other way to describe it- into the back seat of his black Dodge Charger, and jumped into the passenger seat. Chevonne stomped the pedal, and we moved.

As we barreled down the dirt road, a half-dozen clawed leather clad trolls sprung from nearby trees. Chevonne swerved between massive beings in a move that would have made Richard Petty proud; only one scraped the side of the Charger.

“You rate a freakin Fomor Berserker Guard? Damn girl, they want you bad,” Leolin said. “Caugrch claimed could track you; wish I could figure out how.”

We careened down the dirt road pushing 100, and I clutched áine for all I was worth to shield her from bumps, so excuse me if my hearing wasn’t tip top.

“Caaawwggch? Sounds like something spat out by the Evil Name Generator on the Web,” I shouted.

‘He’s the Fomor scout we captured,” Chevonne yelled back, turning around.

“Watch the road!” Leolin and I screamed.

Looking out the back window, I saw specs in the distance …motorcycle riders?

“Guys? We’ve got company.”

“Dammit! I knew I should be driving!” Leolin said.

“You think you can get this piece of crap to go any faster?” Chevonne said. “Knock yourself out.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I had a metal mage tune her so she responds best to me,” Leolin said. “And if you insult her again, you’ll be walking, Fomors or no. Move.”

Oh crap oh crap oh crap! Chevonne and Leolin pulled an in-car switch going 90! Of everything that had happened so far, I think this was scariest. You do not want to be hurtling mach speed down a dirt road at dusk while two people execute a Twister ® game move.

“Aww, was wittle Darcy scared?” Chevonne said, after she scooched to the passenger side.

Damn straight; I near wet myself. But give Leolin credit; with him behind the wheel, we flew. Whoever followed fell behind and disappeared from sight.

~o~O~o~
 
X. October 29 Saturday morning
 

Three hours later saw us holed up in a Motel 6. The plan -doled out in little bite sized pieces, since Leolin acted like I was a 17 year old- was to head for the Danaan Sanctuary in Boston; Leolin figured a full company of Fianna would hold off whatever force was chasing us.

He didn’t take a direct route though, since he figured our pursuers would expect us to make straight for the Sanctuary. So we stopped; midnight had struck, and Leolin wanted sunlight before we moved again. Also, our stop would give Leolin a chance to get some-

“-Answers! And I want them, now!” He growled, as I exited the bathroom.

Leolin had laid on impressive array of weapons on one of the beds: two Browning High Power 9mms, six throwing knives, a mini uzi, a sawed-off shot gun, and various shot gun shells and ammunition clips.

“What, no sword? Surely someone devoted to the ‘Shining Sword Path’ has one,” I said to Leolin.

“I keep it on my person at all times,” he answered. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Even when you shower? Aren’t you scared, ya know, of accidently cutting your pecker off?”

“You are a brat,” Leolin said. “Why the Fomorians think you are the ‘child of the prophecy’ is beyond me.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be on the road? Won’t they track us here?” I had been eyeing his arsenal and hadn’t focused on what he’d said. “Wait! What? Who’s a child of prophecy?”

“You are…” Chevonne said, as she stretched on the other bed. Mmm, she looked yummy all spread out like that. Oops! This is me, still being a guy in here.

She must have read my mind again, because she blew me a kiss before she continued.

“…Or Darcy, is; at least that’s what Caugrch told us-”

“-When you waterboarded him.” I was conflicted on how they pried the info from the Fomorian.

“We didn’t torture him; we used a compulsion spell to-”

“-Stop. Right. There.” Leolin walked to where Chevonne lay, and crossed his arms. “Are you saying she’s not Darcy?”

My eyes went wide. “Tam didn’t tell him?”

Chevonne propped up on her elbows. “We hoped to handle this without fuss. We thought all we needed was a little muscle. We were clueless about some damned Fomorian prophecy.”

“A little muscle? I’ve been in contact with the other Fianna, and they report Fomor activity up and down the Atlantic coast. We are looking at the greatest movement of Fomors in centuries and you wanted ‘a little muscle?’ Danu save us all!”

Leolin walked back to me, placed hands on the sides of my face and said, “You. Talk. Now.”

So I told him all that had happened as best I could. He let go of my face and flopped beside me on the bed.

“Danu! What you must be going through. I had no idea.”

I shrugged. Because, what could I say? I certainly hadn’t seen any of this coming.

He brooded for some minutes before speaking. “This trigger spell they cast on …Darcy …worries me. Something that intricate would require the skill of a powerful Fomor mage, like Ldul, or Farve.”

Chevonne bolted upright. “No! She’s in Bulgaria, right and he’s somewhere in the South Pacific?”

Leolin shook his head. “We can’t assume anything; Caugrch said they’ve been preparing for this for hundreds of years. Let me see that tattoo.”

When I raised my shirt, Chevonne came over too.

When neither spoke, I grew antsy. “Hey? Bad news, yeah; Gwen already told me.”

“Abomination!” Leolin shouted. “How could you allow them to do this to you?”

“I didn’t!”

“Sorry,” Leolin said, and put a hand on my shoulder. Compassion from the asshole Fianna knight? Who saw that coming?

“I’m still struggling with the whole switch concept, and now I see this disfigurement on a pretty girl’s back. I spoke without thinking.”

The tat scared even Leolin; how horrible was this thing? Wait, did he say I was pretty?

“Gwen called it a parasite and said it punched a hole in my auric body? I haven’t a clue what that means.”

“Imagine someone intentionally injecting themselves with the AIDS virus, but on a psychic level,” Chevonne said. “No wonder I couldn’t shield you the other night. This works like a vacuum cleaner to suck up any nasty spell they throw at you.”

Christ, I wanted that thing off of me. No, I wanted my body back!

Shauna? Let us see what we can do with a healing song.

I walked to grab áine from where I’d placed her on the table.

“I don’t know any ancient healing songs.”

“Who’s she talking to?” I heard Leolin ask, to which Chevonne answered “I don’t know; her harp?” I ignored them.

A dark energy is grafted on you. We will expel it, breathe it out. Choose your song and let us do it. It doesn’t have to be an old one. Choose one filled with energy.

“We haven’t time for this; the tat is a huge neon sign. We can’t wait for dawn; we need to move now!”

Leolin’s voice came from faraway; the world was now áine and me.

“Breathe it out, and energy? I’m thinking …Vollenweider’s Air Dance, hey?”

Play!

Yeah, áine’s not an electric harp, and a band didn’t back me up either, but I slapped rhythm on her sound board, and fell into the syncopation of the song.

The vibration, no, -the vibe- flowing through me felt bubbly good, and got better with each breath I blew out. At some point I laughed out loud, and when I did, áine whispered.

Shauna, we are done.

When her strings stopped ringing, I let out one last sigh and opened my eyes; Chevonne and Leolin stared at me.

“What? Aw c’mon; it wasn’t so bad.”

“N-no. You are amazing but,” Chevonne’s eyes held a wild glint, “as you played, a dark haze rose from your body and dissolved in the air.”

We are powerful! Wait until Samhain, when we shall remove every spec of the taint! áine whispered. Tell them to look at the markings now!

“Um, look at my tat now?”

Chevonne rushed over, and gasped ‘Danu’ when she looked. Then she dragged me to the room mirror. I craned my neck to see:
 

 
three interlocking swirls had rewritten the nasty Fomorian tat.

“Whoa! Better, hey? Urm, but what is it?”

“A Goddess mark,” Chevonne whispered.

“I don’t know anyone who can what you did,” Leolin said. “Who are you? What are you?”

Tell them. Tell them who you are.

áine compelled me; I spoke words she placed on my lips:

Mother of Gods, my Seanmhá¡thair,

The Good God, my Athair,

Bard called,

Moon called,

Call me… Shauna Deirbhile
 

End Part 2

 
Moon Harper - Part 3
 
by Armond
 
 
I am now Shauna Deirbhile, and with my harp á€ine, I work miracles with my music. I'm dealing with a lot, hey? Mere days ago I was clueless Sean Derhill. Turning into a teenage girl has become the least of my worries, for I cannot explain the magic that flows from my harp strings, and it frightens me. The issue may be moot; the Fomors have marshalled all their resources to stop me from working a ritual that will switch me back. They want me dead dead dead.
 

 

~o~O~o~
 

X. October 29 Saturday 2AM
 
 
A hive of bees buzzed in my head; what am I?

Leolin and Chevonne could not stop talking about what I’d done and said. I’m sure I seemed catatonic to them. Maybe I was.

We whizzed along at mach speed again in Leolin’s Charger; said Knight throwing out the occasional Fianna curse at himself —colorful those- for not taking I-95. No, we traveled some no name two-lane crowded with trees. Stir that in with 2-frickin-AM, dark clouds eclipsing the moon, and the feeling of being chased by what I now assumed to be an entire race of bogey men, and the whole thing added up to Stephen King central.

But wait, there’s more! We zoomed to God-knows-what in Boston; a Danaan fortress nestled in the center of town? How could that be and no one know? So I asked.

“Glamour,” Chevonne said. The magical races possess a chameleon like ability to project a ‘normal’ appearance to Ords. The Boston Danaans rely overly much on it.”

Cloaking an entire stronghold? I wasn’t buying.

“Are you sure? I saw them; leather man in the car the other night, and I peeked in at Craig when you had him in a freeze spell.”

“Caugrch, not Craig,” Leolin growled from front seat. “And we used a stasis spell-”

“-she’s not getting any of this, Leo,” Chevonne said.

She had switched to the back seat, to be near me. Not sure why …maybe she was scared I’d jump out of the car once I figured everything out. It’s an option.

“I could tell you the reason you see through the Fomors glamour is because you are in Darcy’s body, and Danaan have a natural immunity, but…” she took my hand in hers, “you’ve seen them before, haven’t you?”

I nodded, and whispered, “When I was a kid, I would see, um, creatures …and Mom would-”

“Tell you they didn’t exist?” Chevonne said.

I shook my head. “No, the opposite; she said to stay away from them, that they were dangerous to me, and I…”

I gazed at the dark blur of trees outside; I didn’t want to finish the thought, for it meant my mother knew. She knew about all this. A hand caressed my cheek.

“Talk to me, love, tell me what’s wrong,” Chevonne said.

á€ine sat next to me, silent for now; I had the feeling she was letting me …digest it all. I ran my hand along her smooth neck; she felt …no …she was …alive to me.

“I thought, you know, as strange as this body swap was, this deal was doable. Spend a few interesting days as Darcy, switch back, and voilá , done. But …things are happening I can’t explain. I can do things with my harp, impossible and even frightening, and …the name you called me, Shauna. Before I announced it, you thought of me as Darcy, or Sean-as-Darcy, but now I’m Shauna; I bet you can’t think of me any other way.”

You are Shauna, á€ine said.

“We aren’t stupid,” Leolin called back. “You are the Fomor’s ‘child of prophecy.’ I pray to Danu we can get you to the Sanctuary so we can protect you.”

I’d gone from bratty girl to what in his eyes? Potential weapon against his enemy? “Yeah, I bet you can’t wait to let your folks look at me and see what I’m good for against the Fomorians.”

“That’s not fair! I do not see you that way,” Leolin barked, and Lord, he sounded like he meant it.

“Would it help if we told you the prophecy Caugrch spoke of,” Chevonne asked.
I nodded, though what I would learn was sure to depress me.

“A thousand years before Nostradamus, the Fomorians had their own Nostradamus, the seer Cethlenn. She was wife to Balor the one-eyed, their leader and god; he could kill you with a glance, and…”

Kill you with a glance? Bet he didn’t get many party invites.

Pay attention, Shauna, á€ine chided in my head, this is important.

“…among her many predictions,” Chevonne continued, “Caugrch said one of the biggies was a daughter of the Dagda, he whom we call the Good God, would come. Cethlenn warned if this daughter was initiated into Danu’s mysteries, she would forever tip the balance of power between the Danaans and Fomorians. The Fomors have watched for such a daughter to be born ever since. Watched so they could kill her before she could be initiated. Several years ago, the scrying mirrors of the Fomorian mages started flashing images of Darcy. But now Leo and I think, they were really seeing-”

“-Me? Impossible! I wasn’t born a girl! My father wasn’t the Dagda, right? And-”

“-Shut UP everyone,” Leolin shouted, as he stomped on the brakes, sending us into a screeching sideways stop. “We’ve got trouble.”

In front of us stood a gray fog wall. I turned around, to see another stood behind us, too.

“Is it …them?” I said, breathless. “What do they want?”

“To kill you.” The car door opened. By itself. “Chevonne, take her and run for the trees. Find somewhere safe and shield her. I’ll make a stand here.”

We exchanged glances; silently saying ‘was this the last time we’d be seeing each other?’

Chevonne grabbed my hand while I grabbed á€ine, and we ran into the frozen forest.

Behind Leolin shouted, farch newid and I turned, to see a mounted knight bathed in greenish glow:
 

 

“He’s …he’s…”

“A Fianna Knight in full armor mode,” Chevonne said, dragging me away from the road and deeper into the wood. “They are a wonder to behold. But not invincible. If there are too many…”

We soon lost sight of him, but knew where he was, for soon we heard the clang of his sword, and occasionally, screams in the dark.

When we stumbled into a small clearing, Chevonne murmured “this must do” and cast a circle, activating the elements far faster than I’d imagined possible.

She spread her arms wide and chanted darien, which I now knew meant ‘shield’. A gauzy dome enveloped us.

The sounds of clanging sword metal grew louder, more rapid. The number of bloodcurdling screams tearing the night also rose. I wanted to scream and run. Instead I held her hand, clasping tight.

“Is our plan to wait for Leo to …dispose of …whoever’s attacking?”

She nodded. “They know we are here. They also know with a Fianna Knight as a protector, they must first kill him before they can move on us. We will know if the battle goes poorly for Leo if we hear him fire his guns.”

I blinked. “Why?”

“They will have broken through his Fianna defensive enchantments.”

This is no plan! á€ine growled to me. Open to me; I’m going to teach you a song.

“What? Now? Why?” I said.

“Think magical armor,” Chevonne said. “Think glamour and a shield combined, I’m told-”:

“-Sorry, I was talking to …my harp. She has another plan in mind.”

“She’s alive? Like a person?”

Are you ready?

“To learn a new song? Are you kidding? How can I concentrate, when Leo fights for his life and ours too?”

The sword clangs stopped, replaced now by the rapid popping of an Uzi. Oh crap.

The world flip-flopped again, as when I switched bodies with Darcy, only this time I didn’t lose consciousness. Now I felt stretched and taut, but otherwise couldn’t move.

“This is a favorite of his,” á€ine said, her voice different this time, sounding like …mine. “It’s called Song of Reconciliation.”

His who? I never asked, because when the notes started flowing, I realized…

…I was the harp!

I was sound …vibration …energy …the infinite silence between …I was… I don’t have words to …words couldn’t begin to…

When á€ine whispered, Don’t even try, I realized I’d returned to my body of flesh. And I knew the song, my fingers, my body could replay it with ease.

“Danu, what a song!” Chevonne’s eyes were teary, but then she blinked several times. “Wait! I don’t hear Leo anymore; I think he must be…”

From the darkness, we heard feet crunching frosty ground and garbled curses. The Fomorians were coming. Chevonne grabbed my arm. “Run, Shauna! I’ll delay them a few moments.”

No no no! I’d grown close to the feisty priestess over the past days and couldn’t abandon her.

“But then they’ll kill you too!”

She grabbed my shoulders. “I don’t know what you are, but for Danu’s sake they must not kill you! Now go!”

We are not running! á€ine said Wait for him. He will come …I hope.

Something did come.

Chevonne heaved a huge sigh. “Blessed be; we’re saved! Danu is here!”

A figure materialized, just beyond Chevonne’s domed shield.

“All is well, my dears, lower your shield so we may leave this fell woods.”

Danu? I didn’t know what Chevonne saw, but —though I had never met her- I was pretty sure this creature wasn‘t the Mother goddess:
 

 

“Yes, Great Mother,” Chevonne choked, -I heard tears there too- “I will lower it at once.”

When she started to raise her arms, á€ine screamed, Grab her! Don’t let her lower her shields!

I threw my arms around her waist; I meant to wrestle her to the ground. I wasn’t sure how that would go, since I couldn’t weigh more than 100 now.

“What are you DOING! She’s Danu! The Mother of All! She’s...”

A vibration resonated as I touched her; a clear clean ringing.

Chevonne shook her head, blinked at the woman before us, and said, “...a Fomorian sorceress, glamouring me. Dammit! I …don’t know how you managed it, but thank you Shauna Deirbhile, for stopping me from committing a fatal and —erm, novice- mistake.”

“Er, you’re welcome.” How did I do that, á€ine?

You aren’t ready to know.

Great! My harp knows more about what’s going on than I do.

Damn straight.

“Must we do this the hard way, Priestess?” the Fomorian said. “I am called Ldul, perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

“Aw, shit,” Chevonne whispered. She stiffened her back and stood. “I am honored you have sought me out; shall we duel to decide this issue?”

Ldul barked a laugh. “I did not ‘seek you out,’ as you say. You disabled our tracking mark, which was impossible -neat trick, that- so we positioned garrisons on all roads in to Boston. I am honored the kill has come to me; Farve will be pissed. Lower your shield, release the girl to me, and you shall live.”

“Is she, ya know, good?” I whispered.

“Way out of my league; Tam might have a chance.”

“This is not a ‘take you time to mull it over,’ offer,” Ldul said. “Let me sweeten the pot. “If you don’t die from my first attack, I shall give you into the care of these fine gentlemen. They’re upset at the loss of so many brothers to the Fianna Knight and are in need of comforting. Lazgorth! Orgug!”

Two hissing and gnarled semi-humanoids scrapped their way out of the wood gloom to stand next to the sorceress; I felt Chevonne flinch at the sight of them.

“Well, Priestess?” Ldul said. “Do you choose to give her to me, or die? Her fate is the same, either way.”

“Does your harp have any bright ideas? I figure my shields will survive one of her attacks; two, tops.”

Stall! I feel him near.

“Feel who near?” I said.

“What?”

“Sorry, Chevonne, she says stall.”

“I was hoping she would tell you to play a lament so powerful, they would all perish from sorrow.”

As a last resort, á€ine said, for you would also kill Chevonne and the knight, too, if he yet lives.

“Well?” Chevonne said.

“Not an option. If I do-”

“-Time is up! llosgi” Ldul shouted. And roaring flames engulfed us.

I thought we were toast, but soon I realized the flames passed over and around us. After what seemed an eternity of blinding heat, the flames stopped.

“You held, you-”

Oh God! Blood rolled down the Priestesses nose and tear ducts! “Chevonne, what’s-”

“-Such power she has,” Chevonne whispered. “I gave all I had …more than I had-”

Chevonne slumped to the ground as her shield faded. I grabbed her in my arms, but …she was limp, and …I felt no pulse.

“Your turn,” Ldul chirped.

Sorrow washed over me, and I raised á€ine.

I didn’t know if I had a chance of strumming a few notes before she incinerated me, but damned if I wasn’t going to try to inflict some pain on the bitch!

I learned something when á€ine and I switched; she could take any form of harp I chose. Play a lament? Hell no! I’d shift á€ine to Paraguayan harp form, spin out Pajaro Campana , and make this murderess’ head explode!

Shauna stop! No need, á€ine said. He has come.

“So there’s where my harp has run too!” A voice boomed from behind. “I’ve searched the realms for you, if ya blasted thing.”

A giant man crashed through the woods. Red headed, red bearded, he carried a steaming cauldron in his left arm and an oak sized club in the other.

The Dagda, your father, is here.
 

 

~o~O~o~

 
XI. October 29 Saturday 3AM

And now, this …god? stood before me. A god my harp claimed was my father?

I don’t remember falling down the rabbit hole, nor drinking potions in ‘drink me’ bottles, nor ever agreeing to be Alice.

I might have tried to enjoy the Lewis Carol madness, except Leo was dead; Chevonne lay beside me, with her life force bleeding out and…

“llosgi,” Ldul screamed,

…a crazy sorceress was trying to fry me.

As her fire ball streamed toward us, the giant swung his club as a bat, hitting the flaming sphere back at the Fomor. This was an unexpected maneuver for Ldul, for she had no blocking shield in place; the fire caught her in the midsection, and carried her as a comet into the night sky.

“A Sixer!” Dagda said. And like that, where the woods were filled with nightmares moments before, now there were no signs of Fomorians, anywhere; only night wind through trees.

“Come, Harp,” he said, but I heard á€ine in the word. The giant held his hand, and á€ine trembled in my arms, but did not move.

The Dagda’s bushy red brows raised. “I said come.”

No great Dagda, á€ine answered, for I am no longer your harp; I am hers.

“Are you now? Prove it! Play a tune for me, lass, on your harp!”

“Play something?” I shrieked. Chevonne’s hand was cold in mine. “Are you insane? My friends are dead!”

Shauna! All rests on this, even their lives, á€ine said. Play!

How could I play given all that had happened? What could I play? When all else fails, a harpist reaches into his —er her- wedding bag mix and pulls out Pachelbel's Canon in D, or Greensleeves. I went with Greensleeves . Which came out far more up tempo than I could have imagined, given my black mood.

I opened my eyes, to find the Dagda seated cross-legged before me, staring wide-eyed. He stroked my face with his massive hand.

“Of Ainge and Brigit am I aware, but a third daughter? I pay more heed to when me pants are down or up.”

From what little I knew of him, The Dagda was called ‘The Good God,’ but I was figuring out the title didn’t refer to moral goodness. He seemed a lustful lout.

He is ‘good’ in the sense of being best at what he does, warrior, artist, mage, and powerful ruler, á€ine said, then she spoke aloud, -or in both our minds, I wasn’t clear how this worked-

“She is Shauna Deirbhile.”

“Ah. Well then, Shauna Deirbhile, as ye have the knack, you may use my harp for a bit. Treat her well, though, or you’ll be hearing from me. And…”

He stood; I craned my neck far back to see the ruddy face towering high above me.

“…drink this.”

From somewhere, out of thin air, he produced a silver goblet, which he dipped into his cauldron before handing it to me.

I blinked at the liquid in the cup; it fizzed. “What is it?”

“Not sure what I had in me bowl last; pig soup I’m thinking? Drink! You’ve a touch of Formor taint to ye, and this will fix you right up. Give a drop to your friends, too.”

With that, he strode into the dark woods, chuckling, ‘another daughter …who knew?’

I blinked at the cup. “Pig soup?”

Drink! It is from the Cauldron of Rebirth, á€ine said.

So I did. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this Rebirth liquid, but it tasted like Fresca.

Now pour some into Chevonne’s mouth, á€ine said.

I lifted her head; she was so cold. Dead. I pushed her lips and teeth apart to pour the liquid in. Most ran to the side, but some went in her mouth.

Nothing happened.

Leave her! Find Leolin! The qualities of the elixir last but a short time.

“But…”

Run!

I gently lowered her head to the frozen ground, and ran to the road carrying the cup. Though the road was slick in many places with a dark fluid —blood?- I didn’t see him. I panicked, running many yards up the road, as the liquid fizzed in the cup. Was I imagining, or did the bubbling grow fainter?

Over there! A body in a ditch, pin-cushioned by gnarled spears.

Leo!

I raced to him, and set the cup to the side. I started the grisly task of pulling the spears from his body; I figured on the off chance the ‘elixir’ worked, its effects might be negated if his body was, ya know, still filled with spears.

Once I’d pulled them free, I forced the brew into his mouth. And waited.

And waited.

“Hey! You ditched your harp; I thought you might …need it?”

I almost jumped out of my skin; I did not hear her coming! Chevonne stood next to me, holding á€ine. The priestess looked confused, frightened, and so alive.

Leolin shuddered, then coughed.

I scrambled back to avoid being knocked over when the warrior sprang to his feet.

“My sword! Where…?”

He looked down, to see his shirt shredded in places where the spears hit …but found no wounds.

“What happened?” Leolin said.

“I remember you dying, and …I must have too when Ldul…” Chevonne’s voice was soft. “What did you do, Shauna?”

Don’t tell them, á€ine said, as I picked her up. They aren’t ready to know…

I’m not ready to know, I answered.

“Can we go?” I said. “Those things could slither back any moment, and I wanna get out of here and-”

Chevonne and Leolin wrapped me in their arms; I felt small between them, small and safe and …cherished.

“You saved us; somehow brought us back to life…” I wasn’t sure which of them spoke; I was so thrilled they were alive. “We won’t forget, Shauna. Ever.”
 

~o~O~o~

 
XII. Saturday October 30 noon, somewhere beneath Beacon Hill, Boston

When you read the history of the Sidhe, or Fair Ones, (or l'histoire mythique de l'Irlande et des Tuatha Dé Danann, if you want to be pompous), you learn after the Sons of Mil invaded Eire, the Danaans retreated ‘under the hills’.

When my Mam told stories of these times, I figured the Danaans went to some magical underground kingdom where they feasted night and day on endless plates of meat and rivers of ale.

Perhaps they once did, but in 21st century Boston, the fair folk literally carved a vast subterranean compound beneath Beacon Hill. Chevonne told me the Danaans have, over time, inserted themselves into positions of power within human society. And why not? With their glamour and magical abilities, they were born for politics.

Turns out, the massive billions in cost overruns for the Big Dig (or Big Dug, I guess, now it’s finished) were due to the secret construction of the Danaan sanctuary.

To be more precise, the official highfalutin name of this underground palace is the ‘Prelacy of the Great Mother’. Chevonne promised to explain the title, but so far that riveting chat hasn't happened.

Equipped with secret entrances to roads and the Charles River, the facility was massive, even including its own underground tunnel and rail system:
 

 

More jaw-dropping? The complex’s integration of tech with magic. So, an example — how about HD security monitors lining the art deco vaulted corridors, but otherwise the cavernous place was lit by green glowing fairy lanterns; think fairy-techno -steampunk.

I’d spent the last hour pacing the room we were locked in. That’s right, locked in. When we arrived, they whisked Leolin away for a debriefing with his fellow Knights, and herded us into our cell, er, I mean, room.

Though the sanctuary guards who escorted us said this was a precaution for my safety, I felt under arrest.

At least Chevonne was here; though I still fumed they’d taken á€ine to give her a brief magical security scan. That was two hours ago.

“I’d tell you to stop pacing, but you look so damned cute, my heart wouldn’t be in it.”

“Arrrgh!”

You heard me; ‘arrrgh’ was my witty retort. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

“What is taking so long with á€ine?” I more whined than spoke. “And why are they discussing my future without me present? Something’s wrong.”

Another reason I assumed I was under arrest? These Boston Danaans subjected Chevonne and I to a battery of ‘inspections’ to ensure we were free from human or Fomorian pathogens. We were poked, prodded, dusted and showered. They didn’t allow us to wear our ‘street’ clothes either; issuing us instead white ugg boot things and virginal white dress-smocks. So Chevonne’s 'cute' remark baffled the hell out of me; these duds were fuggly.

“If you ask me, these burlap sacks are another way to keep us from bolting. Can you imagine running around outside dressed like this?”
“Burlap?” Chevonne said, her eyebrows arching. “Are you crazy? These are top of the line fairy dresses.”

Fairy dresses, hey? Was she seeing something I wasn’t when she gazed on ‘cute’ little me? I tried imagining a fairy gauzed me:
 

 
I shook my head, trying not to spiral into the creepy zone of getting turned on by an image of my new self.

As a short-timer female, my style sense was woefully deficient, but I wasn’t that fashion stupid to think what I wore resembled a ‘fairy dress’. I walked to Chevonne and touched her arm, producing the same bell vibration I had in the forest. She blinked as she looked first at me, then herself.

“Those assholes! They glamoured me. I am so going to fry their asses.”
The young priestess officially moved from annoyance at our treatment to outright anger. Her rage paused a moment though, as a something occurred to her.

“How …did you do blow away the illusion like that, and back in the forest too, with Ldul. How?”

The answer had something to do with a god who claimed me as his daughter, but I did not want to think about what it meant; change of subject time.

“More importantly,” I answered, “why aren’t you in some conference room with these folks planning how I get my body back from Darcy?”

“Because they are," Chevonne rolled her eyes, "FOGM priests and priestesses, and I am merely a quaint and rustic follower of Danu.”

“Huh?”

“Two religious factions have developed in the our world, the FOGMs , or Followers of the Great Mother, and traditionalists like May, Tam and me, who follow the Old Ways,” the red-head explained. “As you see, the FOGMs are heavy into integrating modern technology with Danaan magic.”

“And that’s why you’re locked here with me, because you are not a card carrying Mother F- follower?”

“Pretty much,” Chevonne said. “We think the FOGMs are diminished and have lost their way, while they call us antiquated rubes.”

“And the Fianna Knights?” I was struggling with my crash course in Danaan politics, “how do they fit in?”

Chevonne shrugged. “Sworn protectors of all Danaans, but as their main North American garrison is here, they know who butters their bread."

Peachy. My twisted path to my old body now became more muddled by alien politics. I started pacing again.

When I’d lapped the room for the jillionth time, Chevonne grabbed me.

“Just stop, okay? You’re making me tired watching you. Relax. You are safe; you can breathe out.”

“But shouldn’t they be teaching me about doing the Samhain ritual and-”

“-You tested clean; no Fomorian taint. Whatever you did in the woods knocked it out.” She took my hand. “Please. Tell me what you did, and …what happened after I …died.”

No! It was one thing to see magic and yet another to be part of a miracle. I would. Not. think about it.

To her point, I was cleansed, pure, after drinking from the Dagda’s cauldron; I felt it. No need for Tam’s purification ritual for me. Only one tiny minor detail to fix.

“I’m STILL in the wrong body! Have them bring ‘Sean’ here; surely these folks can de-taint his soul so we can switch-”

I couldn’t talk anymore, because the red-headed priest locked her lips onto mine. Not a platonic peck either, a heavy tongue action smooch.

“H-ey,” I warbled, when she let me come up for air. “What’s that for?”

“From the moment you switched with Darcy, you’ve been pissed, scared out of your mind, in a coma, or fleeing for your life. You haven’t had a moment to enjoy this body,” Chevonne said, and brushed the hair from my face. “I’m going to remedy that.”

“Wait! Erm, What about Sarah? You remember her; the woman I’m going to marry? I shouldn’t-”

“-Going to marry? Sweetie, you are married to her. And whattuya think Darcy -as you-and Sarah are doin right now? Ten to one they’re making the Beast with Two Backs. Now shush so we can get busy doing what Danaans do best.”

“I don’t think they-”

She shut me up again with a kiss, and based on the zing of this one, her first had been a warm up. I mean, holy crap! I found myself sprawled on a couch and looking up into her sparkling green eyes. Her hands were already under my dress and cupping my …my breasts …and …I didn’t mind one bit.

Until I heard someone clear his throat. We turned, to see a Danaan bureaucrats, Tulcuhr or something, standing in the doorway.

“I so hate to bother, but if you have the time, the Council is ready to see you now.”
 

~o~O~o~

 

XIII. Saturday October 30 1PM, Danaan Sanctuary corridor to the Great Hall
 

At last! We’re off to see the Powers That Be of this place. Hopefully that meant arranging for Darcy's butt to be dragged here for Samhain to work a purification ritual on her soul and then switch back into my old body.

I knew by now my life would never go back to the ‘normal’; clearly, á€ine and I had business together. But that didn't mean Sarah couldn't be part of it too. Sarah had never been keen on my playing as a career -though she loved hearing me play- but when she saw how powerful á€ine and I now played, I was sure she would be supportive. Right?

Chevonne and I merited a full guard escort, which included a half dozen Fianna Knights, in full regalia, and another dozen Sanctuary guards.

Oddly enough, the Sanctuary guards dressed in plain white shirts and pants; the same drab cloth as the smocks Chevonne and I wore.

The Fianna men and women, on the other hand, were dazzling, all brimming with sashes, ribbons and medals. In fact, walking with them through the retro sanctuary halls lit by fairy glow lamps gave the whole affair a parade feel. It reminded me of the scene where Dorothy and her companions went to see the Wizard of Oz for the first time, with me as Dorothy.
  

 

Er …let’s hope not.

“Don't you look like the image of a Danaan princess, fairy gauze and all.”

I looked left to see Leolin falling into step with us. It took a moment to work out the fairy gauze compliment.

He's glamoured too; how odd for Danaans to be susceptible to their own illusions. Or maybe they like it that way, spicing things up.

“You clean up nice too.”

He did; he looking handsome in his-

Holy crap! First I have a go at Chevonne and now I'm getting starry-eyed by a Knight in uniform? What was it with these Danaan bodies and their libidos? I needed to get back to my own body fast.

“Sooo, what's going on, Leo? Can I count on the Council setting all right?”

“I don't know,” Leolin growled. “They've grilled me ever since we arrived, barely cutting me loose to accompany you to the meeting. I expect them to help you, Shauna. It's the least they can do.”

My spirits lifted knowing we three were together again; Leo to my left and Chevonne to my right. I'd let them argue about who was Scarecrow and Tin Man. Looks like we were short one Cowardly Lion, though, and as for-

-Don't you dare call me Toto, Shauna.

á€ine! Where are you?

In the Council Room. If one more of these oafs touches me, I'll garote him with a string.

I could see massive ebony doors ahead; gotta be the place.

Shauna? Hurry! I miss you.

Miss you too! I did! My arms were empty without her.

Also, make sure Chevonne holds your hand; otherwise it'll be embarrassing when she is 'awed' by these charlatans.

Charlatans? That didn't sound good.

I turned to the fiery priestess. “Chevonne, would you ...hold my hand?”

She clasped it. “Aw sweetie, I know this overwhelming, but they should be able to help-”

She stopped when she saw my expression. “But you aren't scared; there’s another reason you wanted to touch me.”

“Yup.”

“More glamour,” she hissed. “Ya know, after the switch, you were the wide-eyed one as I introduced you to the world of magic. Now it's you who’s all mystic and mysterious.”

"Turnabout's fair play, hey?” I said, with a little grin.

“Personally,” Chevonne said, “I think it sucks.”
 

~o~O~o~

 
I knew the drill. I'd seen the Lord of the Rings so many times I could recite the lines before the actors did. ‘The battle of Helm’s Deep is over; the battle for Middle Earth is about to begin.’ ‘Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?’ Or best, ‘But it is not this day! This day we fight!’

Yeah, I pretty much knew em all. Worse, as a teen, I’d read the Hobbit and the Trilogy over and over and over and before that, Mam read the stories to me the way other kid’s parents might read the bible to them. I was still pissed at Peter Jackson for leaving Tom Bombadil out of the movies.

So this must be the part of this adventure where I’d be awed by the Fair Danaans. Marching into the Council Chamber, I expected the men to look like Elrond and women Galadriel.

Sure, I’d been around the Danaan for days now; I knew they didn’t have pointy ears. But this moment, I was deep in a sanctuary rivaling the Dwarves Keep of Khazad-dum...

You really are a geek at heart, Shauna.

Um, thanks, for noticing, á€ine; always great to be insulted by one's harp.

Anyway, when I walked in, the architecture didn’t disappoint; the vaulted gothic ceiling was amazing; I could only imagine what part of Boston stood above it. But was it ...too amazing? It made the Danaans in the Council Chamber look all the more stark.

Don’t get me wrong, they, each of the twenty or so people seated around me, were striking. All Danaans were blessed with a streak of inhuman beauty. But these …less so. And all here wore garb as plain as the smocks Chevonne and I were in.

“They think to mesmerize us with a clothes glamour? This is messed up,” Chevonne whispered. “I might not be a high level priestess, yet, but I can do more than illusion.”

I didn’t know what to make of that; Chevonne spoke with disdain.

“We thank you, Priestess Séarlait; we would question our guest, so please take a seat.”

Priestess Séarlait? Who’s that?

Chevonne! It is not hard to imagine you were a man two weeks ago; only a clueless male would have spent so much time with someone and failed to ask her full name.

Thanks for your vote of support, á€ine.

I scanned the room to find her; one of the guardsmen guraded her in the back of the room. My hands ached to hold her. Then a thought ecked into my brain:

Wait! Do you have a surname?

Gods, you’re an idiot. I do indeed have a second secret name. But now is not the time for the learning of it. Ask for Chevonne to act as your Breitheamh.

The Guards had led Chevonne, Leolin and I into the center of a circle of twenty or so throne chairs. The other Fianna knights stopped at the chamber entrance; as Leolin claimed his continuing mission was to protect me, he insisted he accompany me in the meeting.

Men and women, sat high upon those chairs, staring down at me; standing behind them —and occasionally whispering in their ears- were another two dozen bureaucrat types. This felt more like an inquisition than …I don’t know …a body unswitching planning session?

*ahem* “I request Priestess Séarlait,” I gave Chevonne a sideways glance —Chevonne Séarlait, how cool a name is that?- “act as my ... erm, Breitheamh.”

Chevonne nodded her approval of my words, while the corps of bureaucrats sprang into action; their whispers became a symphony. The woman seated in the chair directly in front of me looked surprised.

“You wish her to act as your lawyer?”

"As my advisor."

The woman -the leader of the meeting I'd now guessed- stared at me long before she lowered her eyes.

"As you wish," she said. "Guards, bring chairs for Shauna Deirbhile and Priestess Séarlait."

"One chair; I will stand," Chevonne said.

I thought it would be odd to sit while she and Leolin stood, but as soon as I was seated, with one on my left and the other on the right, it felt natural, as if this was how it should be. I only lacked á€ine.

I wasn't sure how this meeting was supposed to begin -introductions would have been nice- so I decided to jump right in.

"When can I expect you to bring Darcy Caroline here to switch bodies with me?"

The bewildered look returned to the leader's eyes. "Why on earth would we do that?"

What? Maybe I misheard her. “Because …this isn’t my body for starters? I was switched to save a Danaan girl from death, or worse, and-”

“-It is obvious to all, you are the person whom the Fomor prophecy predicted, not Darcy Caroline. Your examination showed off the chart magic levels; we have Darcy’s levels recorded in our data base and they aren’t even close. Your harp is an artifact of incalculable power, for it is clearly the instrument of the Dagda himself. I suspect our glamour affects you not at all; am I correct?”

“Glamour? What glamour,” Leo growled.

“Shauna, would you,” Chevonne motioned with her head to the warrior. I reached over and touched him, feeling the same vibration I’d felt with Chevonne.

The warrior blinked, scanned the room, and turned fiery red in his face. “It is by law forbidden to use glamour against the Fianna!”

“Yes, yes, and I am sure you shall file a grievance, Sir Peredur,” the woman waved dismissively, before she returned her gaze to me. “Do you deny any of what I’ve said, Shauna Deirbhile?”

So Leo’s last name is…

Focus, Shauna! Things are not as they seem.

Who are these people, á€ine?

An assortment of high ranking dignitaries of this place. The two who matter are Rhonwen Davis, the one who has been speaking, and the man seated next to her, Lachlan Donohue. She is High Priestess of the Followers of the Great Mother, and he is Prince-elector of Boston.

“High Priestess Davis, Prince-elector Donohue: two weeks ago I knew nothing of your world…

Not true, Shauna, you mother taught you; you chose to forget.

Hush, á€ine.

…and I feel like a boat at sea in a hurricane, tossed from wave to wave, with water pouring in over the sides. Anything I know of this prophecy, I’ve learned in the last 24 hours. I do not want to stay in this body! I have a life to live. Priestess Caroline would like her daughter returned as well; she, Chevonne and others were preparing me for this when I was forced to run for my life. So please. I’m asking. I’m begging — give me back my life.”

Chevonne murmured “well said,” after I finished, but Rhonwen and Lachlan, a man with a pinched face and dark eyes, looked unmoved.

“I’d like to think your naíveté is an act, but you truly don’t get it. All indications are the Formorian prophecy is correct. You are the Dagda’s daughter, and upon your initiation into Danu’s rites, you will rise into the fullness of your power as a demi-goddess…”

Did he say demi-goddess, á€ine?

You are not a demi-goddess…

Well thank heavens for that because-

You are more.

More? More what? Now I was truly scared.

“So you see,” Rhonwen smiled at me, the crookedness of it marring her exquisite Danaan beauty, “you are not useful to us returned to your male body. But as Dagda’s Daughter, you are a force to be used against the Fomors, or perhaps a bargaining chip?”

“That must be my cue to commence the negotiations for the girl,” a cloaked man said, approaching Rhonwen and Lachlan. He lowered his hood:
 

 

When Leolin recognized the Fomor, he drew his sword from behind his back and shouted,“Farve! You die!”

Rhonwen rose from her chair. “Stand down, Knight. The Formorian is our guest and here by our invitation.”

“His people have been trying for days to kill Shauna, by poison, force and flame,” Leolin shouted, leveling his sword at the Fomorian mage. “I will not stand down.”

The Fomor sorcerer’s expression was cool as he turned to Rhonwen and Lachlan. “Have you considered my proposal? It is, by any estimation, fair.”

Chevonne stepped forward. “What proposal?”

Lachlan gave a dismissive wave. “We are weighing the value of allowing Shauna Deirbhile to achieve the fullness of her power, versus the peace treaty and 100 year tithe the Fomors have offered.”

“You mean to turn Shauna over to our enemies? This is treason,” Leolin roared.

Shauna, I need to be in your hands, á€ine said.

I felt it too. “Excuse me, but I should like to have my harp returned to me.”

“No!” Farve said, the first troubled look showing on his face. “Do NOT allow it.”

“Perhaps I will,” Rhonwen said, grinning. “Your offer appears …light …to us.”

Farve rolled his red eyes. “I feared our negotiations would be thus. I have told you how important it is to my people that this one not live, but perhaps you do not fully understand our commitment to this cause. Amassed outside your walls is a strike force so powerful, that your defenses will be swept aside in minutes. If you agree to our terms, we will honor the treaty. If not, we attack. Either way, she dies.”

Lachlan’s jaw dropped. “You would risk exposing our races to the humans over this?”

“We would risk everything! If Cethlenn’s prophecy comes true, our race is doomed. She must not live!”

I could see their decision on their faces: they did not think the Fomor bluffed, and they would turn me over to them.

It is time, á€ine said. Call me.

I knew what she meant; I would do as the Dagda had tried.

“Harp, come to me!”

á€ine flew through the air, knocking guards and council members out of the way. My hands closed around her.

“No!” Farve screamed. “Don’t let her play!”

“Guards! Grab her!” Rhonwen ordered.

I knew what to do. I knew.

Ready á€ine?

Always.

And I played a lullaby.

End Part 3

Moon Harper concludes in Part 4.

 
Moon Harper - Part 4
 
by Armond
 
 
No one bothered to mention I’d be signing up for this! I thought becoming a teenage girl would be impossible to deal with. Turns out it’s the least of my worries. With my talking harp á€ine, I can do things no human should be able to. And it scares the crap out of me!

Deal with it Moon Harper, á€ine said. You are Shauna Deirbhile, and this is your time of rising!
 
 

~o~O~o~

 
 
XIV. October 29 Saturday 3AM Northbound I-95
 
No one spoke. No one knew what to say, beyond the perfunctory. á€ine told me where we needed to go, and I passed the information along to Leolin and Chevonne, but past that, silence.

We sped again, in Leolin's Charger, back to Tamsin's grove. No one stopped us. No one followed us; neither Danaan guard, nor Fomor Sorcerer. No one.

When I played my lullaby on á€ine in the Council Chambers, everyone fell into a deep sleep; I alone stood, holding my harp.

I awakened Leolin and Chevonne with a touch, and we left the chamber, to find all the Danaans asleep throughout the Boston Sanctuary. No. One. Moved.

It didn't stop there.

Exiting the sanctuary, we found Boston veiled in slumber. Cars stopped, still in the freeway, their drivers slumped onto steering wheels. No sirens sounded nor buses or trains. No dogs barked or birds flew in the sky. Even the wind slept. Life only resumed after we passed Somerville.

Did I do this?

'Yes,' á€ine answered, 'your Geantrai radiated outward in all directions, bringing slumber to all things. Your power is great.'

The Geantra, the sleeping, one of the three types of Bardic music, along with Joy and Sorrow. And I had used it, hitting Boston like a bomb. I hoped to heaven I hadn't killed anyone.

'No, though you have that power,' á€ine said.

I did? That scared the shit out of me!

Danu knew it would; she was wise to raise you as she did.

“Danu raised me? What do you mean by that?” I blurted.

Chevonne and Leolin stared at me from the front seat. I read their eyes; they feared me. Not the monster in the night terror either; this was awe. And there was a distance between us, which …hurt. In these last days, I'd grown closer to Leolin and Chevonne than I thought possible. We were a team. But now…

“Why do you stare at me like that?”

“Because of what you aren't and what you are,” Chevonne said.

“What I'm not? What's that mean?”

The redhead took a deep breath. “You aren't mortal, Shauna.”

“Bullshit!” What was she saying? What was she calling me? “I'm as mortal as the next guy …er …gal.”

“Are you? Let's review the facts,” Leolin said, with false calm. “You played and sang the greater part of Boston to sleep. You dispel illusion with a touch…”

“…You brought Leo and me back to life,” Chevonne added.

“Yes! Mustn't forget that little fact either,” Leolin said.

“That wasn't me!” I screamed. “The Dagda brought you back to life…”

And there it was, another reminder of the world I had not only been thrown into, but was a central part of. Chevonne and Leolin died. And a being, claiming to be my father, resurrected them. I hadn't done an extensive study or anything, but I was pretty sure those were the kind of things whole religions were founded on. The implications crashed down on me.

“…w-when he came looking for his harp. I took the drink he gave me from his cauldron and gave it to you.”

“The Dagda? The Good God Himself?” Leolin swerved a bit when he took on that news.

The light bulb flashed in Chevonne's face. “The song you sang! You called him - the ruler of the gods below Danu- to you! And you still have your harp. Explain!”

“I …played him a song, and he …let me keep my harp …because he said I was his …daughter.”

My voice trailed away. Shit! I could scream 'why me?' at the top of my lungs, but I couldn't deny what was happening …what I was becoming …any longer.

“His daughter?” Chevonne squealed. “Holy Danu, you are a demi-goddess!”

No you're not, á€ine countered.

“And do you think,” Chevonne pressed, “you will retain your new divine powers if you switch back to your old body?”

á€ine? I held my breath.

You will be powerful as Sean or Shauna.

“Yes, I will,” I said, exhaling. “Why do you ask?”

Chevonne was punching numbers on her cell phone. “Because switching you back may be the best way to avoid a total war between the Danaans and Fomorians. A war we'd both lose, in the end, because the humans will learn of our existence. If you were male again, maybe the Fomors will think their 'Daughter of Dagda' prophecy is unfulfilled and …hello Tam? Chevonne. We're at Defcon 1 here…”

She turned to me. “How long do you think everyone will stay asleep?”

'The enchanted sleep will last but a few hours,' á€ine said. 'When you come into your full power, you can make it last a hundred years.'

I could do that? Why did I have such power? I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to play á€ine again.

Don't speak so! You must! We are bound together!

I shook my head, looked out the window at the predawn gray, and mumbled,

“About three hours.”

Chevonne nodded. “Tam, we have a three hour head start before all hell breaks loose. We need you to bring Darcy back to the grove to-”

She paused. “You did? Thank Danu for your big brain! Gather everyone; we'll be there in..." she turned to Leolin, "What's our ETA?"

"Unless our little miracle worker has another trick up her sleeve, we'll arrive around 10,” the knight answered.

You could you know, á€ine said. You could play a tune to lull time to sleep.

"No, no no!" I beat my head against the car window.

"What? …Sorry, Tam, Shauna was freaking out again." Chevonne said, and paused.

"Eh? Shauna Deirbhile is Sean ...we have lots to tell. Anyway, we can't wait for Samhain; we must invoke the purification ritual now when we get there, and then switch them back."

Chevonne paused again. "I know, but waiting is a no go. We've got an army of angry Fomors nipping at our heels; we must hope there's enough power to..." She stopped, turning to me again. “Do we even need Samhain to cleanse Darcy?”

I didn't answer her. But I had a feeling, even without á€ine telling me. Somehow, I could do it.

I fuzzed out the rest of her call with Tamsin. I kinda heard her tell me when we dashed away, Tamsin had the foresight to lure Darcy back to the farm in case we escaped the Fomors. The priestesses glamoured 'Sean' into thinking he won a free weekend stay at the farm. I snapped out of it more when the red-headed priestess shook me.

"Did you hear me? 'Sean' is there now and ...he's brought Sarah with him."
 

~o~O~o~

 
XV. October 29 Saturday 1PM Tamsin Caroline's farm
 
“I don't care if the entire Fomorian race is coming, the ritual must start at sunset,” May said, her hands planted on her hips. May's normal hair color -silver- changed to match her determination -granite-.

“Ma'am, the entire Fomorian Nation is coming, at least the North American part of it,” Leolin said. “Our cushion is gone, they will be here soon.”

Once we arrived, Leolin contacted Fianna knights he trusted and learned my 'slumber bomb' wore off around sunrise, which had given us a longer lead than we'd calculated.

Still, time was running out. Leolin's contact said the Fomors fanned out from Boston in all directions to chase us, but the largest group was coming straight for Tamsin's Grove.

Since we arrived, the Danu priestesses and Leolin had been busy, tripling and quadrupling the protection wards around Tamsin's property. Still, no one believed these would keep the Fomors out for long. The Knights also sent a contingent, but Leolin wasn't sure whether their mission was to protect me or 'escort' me back to the Boston sanctuary. The betrayal of the Boston Danaans had shaken his core.

“High Priestess, I beg you, start the ritual now. Try tapping into Shauna's power; from all I've seen, it is astonishing.”

May was unimpressed. "Can she move the sun in the sky to set with her harping? Remember, we are two days from Samhain; I doubt the ritual will work this early. At the least we cannot compromise on the timing, the purification must start at dusk.”

The light shone in Chevonne's eyes again. “Speed the sun, no, but she holds The Dagda's harp; legends say he could play up a winter's storm in summer if he chose. Could she do something like that? To delay the Fomors long enough for the ritual and soul switch spell?”

Eyes turned to me; Tamsin, May, Siofra, Gwyneth and the rest of the Danu priestesses, and to my left and right, Leolin and Chevonne. Each looked to me with …hope?

What was this thing I'd become to them?

Whatever, my heart wasn't in it; when we'd first arrived, I ran to find Sarah. Tamsin tried to stop me; telling me 'Sean' and Sarah were treating this free weekend as a mini honeymoon. She said they'd gone for a 'long walk' in the woods. I didn't take the hint.

I should have; when I found Darcy in my old body and Sarah, they were not walking:
 

 
I hid behind a tree and watched; spied on my own body kissing my lover. They looked so happy.

More than that, they …held each other as lovers do - intimate and possessive. I searched my brain to remember Sarah holding me that way …and I couldn't.

I crept away so they wouldn't hear me -not that they would have heard an elephant crashing through the woods, as wrapped together as they were- and stumbled back to Tamsin's house.

I didn't know how to process it, and had been dazed since. My focus in the frenetic crazy days since my switch was to get back to my life with Sarah, but …was she happier with Darcy?

It was selfish vanity I know -the Fomor devils were coming to kill me, and everyone standing with me was at risk- but when I returned to Tam's house, I ran to Darcy's room, slammed the door, and cried. There I stayed until Chevonne and Gwen dragged me out to meet with everyone.

“Well, Shauna Deirbhile?” Chevonne said. “Can you call a winter's storm on The Dagda's harp?”

I shook my head, a futile gesture to push my depression away. “She's my harp, not his. I can call …something. But you saw what happened in Boston…”

The news reports showed no one died. Thank Danu. The media and public authorities were scrambling for an explanation; the current theory on CNN was a major gas leak.

“…so I might bring down a new ice age.”

Chevonne and Leolin took my hands and led me to where I'd left á€ine. I'd been afraid to touch her since Boston.

But when I did, I sighed with relief.

About damn time you picked me up again.

I'm sorry …I didn't …I

Shauna, I understand how much has been thrust on you in so short a time. Let go of your worries for now, and let us play.

Can I do as they ask?

Of course. You are Shauna Deirbhile.

“Shauna? “ Chevonne said. “Do you have a song to bring a winter storm?”

“Not sure,” I said. “I have a McKennitt piece called Snow. Let's see what happens.”

I plopped down cross-legged on the cold brown grass, and played.

A snowflake licked my face when I finished. Looking up, I saw the sky gray with clouds. Soon, a light snowfall blanketed the area, though I wouldn't call it the storm of the century.

Ah well, sometimes ya got it and sometimes ya don't.

Then á€ine giggled. At me. As if I'd said the funniest thing in the world.

“OMG!” Gwyneth squealed. I'd worked out by now that when she said the phrase, it meant, 'Oh My Goddess.' “Look at this!”

She stuck her iPhone under my nose. I squinted, trying to interpret the white swirls and squiggles.

“Thanks, Gwen, er ...great, but what is this?”

“A satellite pic, you moron, showing a freak nor'easter appearing from nowhere. Twitter's gone crazy! You did it! It's blizzarding everywhere in New England but here!”

I looked at the image again, but my brain would not believe the data my eyes sent to it.
 

 
á€ine? Tell me this wasn't us!

You see why the Fomors fear you now, yes?

Leolin gave me a hand up, and when I stood, Chevonne wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled my forehead to hers.

"Don't be frightened, Shauna, you are amazing; this is what you do."

What does that mean? Was everyone clued into what was happening to me but me?

Only Leolin and Chevonne; they are special to you, á€ine said. You'll see. Hang with me a few more hours, love, we're almost there.

I didn't want to see anything. I wanted my body back. I wanted Sarah back. I wanted her to hold me the way she held Darcy. I wanted...

My snow storm had chilled me; I wanted hot chocolate.
 

~o~O~o~

 
XVI. October 29 Saturday 3 PM Tamsin Caroline's kitchen
 
 
The first thing to know is Tam slow cooks her hot chocolate in a crock pot.

Yes, she dumps in Double Dutch Dark cocoa, milk, a glob of maple syrup, a dash of peppermint extract. She even dollops a homemade marshmallow chunk on top. But it's slow cooking that's key. I'd tell The Dagda to put this elixir in his cauldron next time I saw him. It was so damn velvety smooth, I insisted á€ine switch places with me so she could experience heaven. It sent her into cocoa delirium.

Mmmmm. You can switch places with me any time, Shauna Deirbhile, if I can drink this!

I sat alone in Tamsin's kitchen, wrapped in a blanket, looking out the window at swirling white flakes. Leolin patrolled the property looking for breaches in the wards, while Chevonne and the Danu priestesses sat in the living room, preparing for Darcy's cleansing ritual.

I could have joined them, to hear how it would go, but I think I scared the crap out of them, all save Tamsin. Even Gwen was now afraid of me; Tam would have been too, I expect, if I wasn't in her daughter's body.

Why wouldn't they be? By all reports, I conjured a blizzard that halted traffic in Maine, New Hampshire and Massachusetts. Once more I prayed no one died from what I'd done.

No one will, Shauna, because you did not intend so, á€ine said.

I know you mean to comfort me, love, but that scares me more.

I used words like love with á€ine now without thinking, as did she in return, and I wondered at this. It was like …after all my years, I was remembering a greater part of myself. Our self.

“That smells wonderful! You wouldn't have any extra, would you?”

Speaking of lovers, there Sarah stood; she'd stepped in through the back kitchen door, and snowflakes still covered her hair. She had thrown on a blue sweater I'd bought her last Christmas and her scratchy white mittens I always gave her crap about.

“You bet; all part of the Caroline farm experience.” I jumped up, poured her a huge mug, tossed in a 'mellow, and handed it to her. For as dear as she clutched the mug, it could well be The Dagda's life giving brew.
 

 
“Good God, this is amazing.”

I nodded, but didn't answer. I wanted her to savor it, and, I didn't know what to say.

Don't get me wrong; I wanted to say so many things, like 'hey, it's me in here, your real lover Sean', or 'I love you and miss you, Sarah.' Or reach over and smack a kiss on her. But I couldn't; she'd think me insane!

After a good minute of 'mmm's and 'ah's, she glanced up from her steaming mug.

“You're Darcy, right? Sean said he met you when he was here the other weekend.”

Darcy. That's who she'd think I was. I had so many names swirling around my head, it was hard to keep track.

One name alone matters, Shauna Deirbhile, á€ine said.

When I looked over at her in the kitchen corner, Sarah followed my eyes and saw á€ine.

“How weird; your harp looks identical to Sean's. Do you play?”

“A little.” I motioned for her to sit in a chair at the kitchen table and I took one too. “So Sean plays the harp?”

“Um hmm,” She said, without enthusiasm. “Though not so much since he returned from his stay here the other night.”

Interesting. “So where is your …fiancée?”

“My hubby; we just married. He's in the barn house, taking a nap, the wuss. He wanted to be fresh for this …bonfire Tamsin invited us to this evening? Weather permitting.”

Ah! That's how Tam pitched it; she'd stuck to plan. And then I couldn't stop my mouth from flapping. “Why did he need a nap?”

“Because,” Sarah whispered leaning forward, “I've been wearing him out.”

The expression of my lover at that moment was the most joyous I'd seen on her, ever.

My eyes watered, so I looked away to the window; I didn't want her to see me breaking down.

“You love him then?” I choked.

She reached across the table to grab my hand. “So much. Two weeks ago, I thought we were finished; Sean seemed paralyzed; he couldn't commit. To me, to his job, to anything. Anything except his harp playing, but he was trying to give that up for me.”

“Did you …want him to give it up?”

“I admit I wasn't ecstatic over his 'harp love' but I recognized how much it, or she, was part of him. So no, I didn't want him to. He was so torn up, though, I thought he would be unable to commit. So I told him we should call off the wedding.”

I nodded. She told me some of this, but not the part about recognizing how important á€ine was to me.

“But then …when he returned from here …something changed?”

Her face brightened. “Oh yes! He was different, like another person, and we clicked like never before.”

Danu! She loves Darcy in a way she never did with me!

“I've never heard you talk this way be-” Stop. Think. She doesn't know you in this body. “So, you're happy, hey? And you'll start a family? Kids and all?”

“When Sean wakes, I'm going to thunk his head; he called you a dour bratty teen. You're anything but! And our stay here has been fabulous; sooo romantic. Sean and I made a pact to try to come here every year for our anniversary. Since you feel like family, I'll share.”

Sarah leaned back in her chair, flicked back her reddish hair and looked around to see if anyone was listening. Then she leaned forward and whispered,

“We've stopped using contraceptives. You do know what I'm talking about, right? Teens these days know this stuff way before they're teens and …sorry, I'm babbling. But the point is, we're trying.”

Children. Sarah wanted a family. And we'd never spoken about it. Oh, she'd hinted, but that was all.

“Oh, no,” She said. “By the look on your face, I've over shared.”

I waved her off, pretending I hadn't been slammed by her words, but my mouth flapped again before my brain could stop it.

“Ya know I'd hoped someday we'd …I'd …have kids, when I was ready. It's not like I didn't want them, but-”

“-Aw sweetie, I understand. You're what, 17? It's scary! I thought the same way when I was your age. But I'm ten years older than you and it's time. You'll know when it's right …when the right one comes along.”

“I'm …so happy for you.” I tried -tried- to say it with conviction. But my heart screamed otherwise, because I was going to get my body back, and it would be not Sarah's and Darcy's dream, but Sarah's and mine.

The thought should thrill me right? Part of me was, but there was another side of me that, ya know, felt like crap at what I would do to them. Why was I thrust into this position? I didn't ask for any of this!

“Look! The clouds are clearing,” Sarah said. “Not much daylight left; I'd better go wake Sean for the bonfire. Tam said it happens at dusk, right? What can we expect? It sounds a bit more than roasting marshmallows.”

I looked out the window to see a cold autumn sun nearing the gray horizon; almost show time. What was the script we'd come up with? I cleared my throat and launched into it.

“While we are doing this a couple of days early -because you can't be here for the real night- Halloween, or Samhain, is the beginning of the Celtic new year. It's the time of winter; days grow shorter and darkness longer. So Tam and her friends celebrate by building a big bonfire; our wish to the sun to come back soon.”

Cool,” Sarah said. “I like it. Anything else we should know? Do we have to say anything?”

I shook my head. “The bonfire is meant to welcome good spirits. It's also a …purification rite; in olden days farmers circled the fire with their livestock to remove sickness and disease, for a prosperous new year. All you and …Sean …have to do is stay toasty warm under thick blankets, and down more of Tam's kick ass hot chocolate. Except this batch will have peppermint schnapps in it.”

She laughed. “Ohhh yeah, we can do that. This sounds wonderful! Well, I'd better go wake sleepyhead so he can get ready.”

She set her cup down and walked to the kitchen door; turning to me before she left.

“Bonfire. I bet the word comes from the French 'bon', or good. This will be romantic; I'm so happy we won this weekend stay here. I couldn't think of a better place to be in the world. See you in a few. Someone will come get us right?”

I nodded and gave her a goodbye wave. I could have corrected her, and told her the name comes from the practice of Celtic farmers of throwing the bones of their dead livestock into the fire as a sacrifice to their gods, so it's not bonfire but 'bone-fire'. Worse, I could have told her an army of night terrors was coming, creatures who would cheerfully throw our bones -and the screaming rest of us- into a raging fire.

Could have, but I didn't. I mean, soon, this all could explode apart in the bloodiest of ways; what was the harm in letting Sarah hold onto her romantic notions for a little while longer?

No, I kept my mouth shut, and after she left, I grabbed á€ine and fled to Darcy's room. There I crawled into bed, and pulled the covers over my head. My goal was to push the images -of Sarah's face lit from the thought of raising a family with Darcy, and of the two lovers kissing under the autumn leaves- far far from my mind.

I failed.
 

~o~O~o~

 
 
XVII. October 29 Saturday 6 PM Tamsin Caroline's Holy Grove
 
 
“Breath of Life, Element of Air, Guardian of the East, we call you!” May said, facing eastward with arms raised to heaven. As she spoke, a breeze blew through the oak branches of the grove.

A full moon rose on the eastern horizon, as the sun set to the west. A blood moon.

May said we were two days early for Samahin, but I swear I heard faraway voices. Not distant, but separated? Make no sense, I know.

The walls between the realms are always thin for such as you, Shauna, á€ine said. You hear home.

Home. There's a concept. Where was a 'home' for 'such as me'? I sighed.

“Passion's Flame, Element of Fire, Guardian of the South, we call you!”

The bonfire, already crackling, roared in answer to May's call. 'Sean' and Sarah sat entranced near the warm blaze; glassy-eyed and glamoured by the Danu priestesses. For all I knew of the illusion spells they were under, they did see this as a s'mores party. May moved past them to the next 'Quarter.'

“Deep Well of Wisdom, Element of Water, Guardian of the West, we call you!”

A mist rose and cascaded before the High Priestess. I sat with á€ine in hand and soaked it up, no pun intended. For all my crash training at the beginning of this adventure, I was sidelined for this part of the ceremony, as The Dagda's brew cleansed the Fomor corruption from Darcy's -my- body. Tonight's second spell, the soul switching, was what I longed for. But first they needed to cleanse Darcy's soul. May walked to the final Quarter.

“Bountiful Green, Element of Earth, Guardian of the North, we call you!”

Golden leaves floated down to her as she lowered her arms. The priestesses turned as one to the moon, hanging low and large on the horizon. Together they chanted,

Hail Danu, Lady of the Moon! Hail Great Mother! We ask you to join us in this sacred circle! Bless us in our work tonight!”

In answer, the moon drew closer! But if the priestesses saw, they didn't act like it; moving to the next part of the cleansing ritual.

They didn't, Shauna, only you.

Why, á€ine? Why can only I see it?

Let us speak of sound, not sight, hmm, Moon Harper? Do you recall the trick Tam taught you to activate the elements?

Sure, I nodded, and remembered associating different strings -and my sound board - with air, fire, water, and earth. Why?

Imagine taking it farther, love, á€ine said. Imagine not only the elements, but all things in creation, having a unique vibration, each with its own string.

Yes! How simple! It clicked.

Though the priestesses spoke the words of the cleansing ritual, I heard each's vibration energy. Tam's, May's, Gwen's, each with her own signature wave length.

It didn't stop there, wave patterns surrounded me, of trees, rocks, sky, and, I knew …I knew …which stings on á€ine to pluck to match them, harmonize with them or change them.

á€ine! I can… I can…

Yes, Shauna Deirbhile, Yes, Daughter of Inspiration, You can create. You can destroy.

But why tell me this now? Why not yesterday or-

Listen! They are failing! They have not the power! You must save Darcy!

I tuned back into the priestesses' ceremony. Tamsin was speaking, and sounded desperate.

“Under the moon, in this place of magic, again Danu we beg you, cleanse this soul from corruption!”

At her words, my old body lurched forward; 'Sean' grabbed his stomach …and screamed. Blood foamed from his mouth.

The priestesses broke their circle ranks and flew to him, but didn't know what to do. Chevonne alone stood back, bowed her head, and whispered:

“Under the moon, in this place of magic, Shauna Deirbhile, I beg you, cleanse this soul from corruption!”

She spoke the same invocation as Tam, only using my name in place of Danu. Why?

Don't waste time! á€ine said. Do it, or your old body dies.

Once more, I lifted á€ine into my arms.

There! The soul dissonance was there

Tied to the rhythm of his heart. Resonating discord with each beat.

It's subtle, á€ine said. The dissonance amplified when the priestesses attempted Darcy's initiation before, and again just now with the cleansing.

How do you …where do you start with something like this? I asked á€ine. Wouldn't it fight what I could do just as much as it resisted the Danu priestesses' magic?

You don't fight it, you resolve it.

Resolve it? Fight, resolve, á€ine was parsing words here.

How do you resolve dissonant chords, luv?

Duh! With consonant chords!

But nothing overwhelming, your song must be subtle in response, á€ine said. Play, Shauna Deirbhile, heal Darcy's soul.

Play what? The solution came after a few moments. It would take some pretty cool harmonics, huh?

After the last note from á€ine’s strings quieted, Sarah shook off her illusion trance.

“Sean? Oh, God what’s wrong? Talk to me!”

Darcy raised my old body, blinked, and then hugged Sarah before drawing back.

“I'm okay, luv, I …I feel, hmm, the best I have in a long time!”

In a hurried move, May waved her wand over 'Sean' and Sarah and murmured words; the couple turned glassy-eyed again and drifted back into their 'warm bonfire' illusion. Then the High Priestess strode over to me with a relieved Tamsin in tow. Chevonne already stood to my right.

“The taint is gone; you removed it where we could not! Don't misunderstand me -this is wonderful!- but it would have been …” The elder High Priestess was as close to sounding irritated as I'd heard from her. “…nice, if you would have told me you could banish the Fomor corruption with a tune before we went through this exercise, hmm?”

“I …erm …figured it out a minute ago and-”

Leolin came running to us, glowing in his full green Fianna Armor.

“A Fomor force has pushed through the storm and is attacking our wards. Have you finished the cleansing?”

“After a fashion,” May answered. “How long do we have before they break through?”

“A few minutes yet, for we've set many barriers,” the knight answered. “I'd say 15 minutes…”

A loud FOOOM sounded, from beyond the woods.

“Crap! They destroyed an entire circle ward!” Leolin said. “Check what I said; ten minutes at most. Do the switch now!”

May nodded, and started barking orders, while Tamsin took my hands in hers.

“It's time, Sean. You've done more …far more …than I could have imagined for Darcy and me. Thank you.” She kissed me on my cheek. “I promised you we would return you to your body, and so it is time, though life will be greatly changed for you as Sean Deirbhile.

I nodded, and watched as the priestesses realigned in the circle formation they held when I was switched those many days ago.

My body. My life. My Sarah. I couldn't wait!

But listen, luv, to their song, á€ine whispered.

What? Who's song?

Darcy and Sarah's. Together. Listen.

I looked at the couple, arms clasped around each other, the warm bonfire flicker lighting their faces, her head on his shoulder.

Or rather, I listened to the couple; I heard their souls …singing to each other …with each other …harmony and melody trading between them.

Tears welled once more in my eyes and I motioned Tamsin to me. Operating by instinct, I clasped her hands and said, “hear.”

Through my touch, she heard their soul song. Her eyes misted too.

“Oh dear …oh Danu,” she murmured, “they're soul mates.”

She looked in my eyes as her lips quivered. “Darcy is so happy and Sarah …hear her soul's ecstasy! But …it is your body, Sean, your choice. You should switch back, even if…”

Another FOOOM echoed through the grove.

“One circle left,” Leo shouted. “Do this NOW!”

I will love you as Sean or Shauna, á€ine said. Yet I heard the 'but' in her caress.

“No!” I fell to the cold ground and pounded it with my fist. “No no no! I. Can't. Do this to them!”

Chevonne knelt beside me. “You must! To avert a war of annihilation! Switch Shauna!”

“Now!” Leolin added, “for we have no more time!”

Was that right? Even if my conscience screamed how wrong it was to separate these lovers, perhaps I needed to do this for the good of all? But …Chevonne's logic made no sense.

“These are Fomors, Chevonne, trying to avert an ancient prophecy. Do ya think they'll shrug and say, 'oh, you switched 'em back? Well, no worries then.' No, they'll whack us both, Darcy and me, no matter which body we are in.”

“Dammit! That's true!” the redhead growled. “Then what will we do?”

“I'll play another lullaby or-”

“CHILD! COME TO ME!”

When the voice spoke, everything froze. All in the grove were statue still. Not a breath moved. Time stopped. And the moon grew,
 

 
larger and larger, until it filled the sky. Until it was so close I could touch it. But I didn't; with á€ine in hand I stepped through.

Because the voice calling to me from the other side was my mother.
 

~o~O~o~

 
Time - nonexistent. Place - somewhere beyond.
 
 
Grassy hills under starlight. A soft breeze, tinged with wild flowers, caressed me.

I remember this place! When I was a child, mother brought me here to play, but my memory told me it was a park not …another world.

Childhood memories are always much more, and less, than was true.

At that moment, I realized I wasn't holding á€ine's neck, but someone's hand. I turned to see a woman's face, garlanded in white roses, with the bluest eyes in the universe.
 

 
I remembered her; how could I have forgotten? We played here together when I was a child. The other boys laughed at my imaginary 'girl' friend. They wouldn't now; I did not remember her looking this …this…

Sensual?

á€ine's voice sounded like harp strings, if a harp could talk. Okay, that makes no sense, other than to convey a metaphor come to life - her words were music to my ears.

I was going to say you looked hot.

I see. I wish you could see your spirit form, because you do too, Shauna, with your night black hair and chocolate blue eyes. Mmm, chocolate! Why'd you have to introduce me to that vice? Anyway, I did not look as I do when we played; I age to match your age.

Huh? Why was that?

Come, Moon Harper, She waits. Do you remember the way?

I did. When I was a kid, after á€ine and I ran ourselves silly with chasing bugs and throwing rocks, I'd follow the path over the grassy hill. There she'd be, puttering among her flowers. Except …mother was dead, and had been for years.

As we crested the hill, I looked down on a vast meadow garden of red poppies, and bluebonnets, spring beautys and wild roses.

I will leave you for a while; your time with Her should be yours alone, á€ine said. It has been long since I've been here …and had legs …I want to run! See ya!

With that my harp …sprinted away. I never imagined I'd be thinking those words. Go figure.

But then, my breath caught, because I saw a woman there, wearing a floppy hat, tending to some flower. She turned and … and…

It was my Mam!

I fell to my knees, clasped the heels of my hands to my eyes, and wept.

She was quick to my side, singing soothing words; She took my hands from my eyes, and hugged me.

“Aw baby, hush now. Hush my darling.”

These were the phrases she said to me when I was a kid after I'd scraped a knee or elbow. So I cried all the more.

She chuckled. “Shauna. I'm not dead; I am not mortal. And neither are you.”

“But …you died. I buried you!”

“A shadow body.” She shook her head. “As Sean, you were always one to toss out a thousand questions, and I doubt you've changed your ways as Shauna.”

I was about to ask her a question about that, but managed to bite my lip closed.

“Good. First things first. I am not your mother.”

“Wait, WHAT?!”

“Stay calm for another moment, dearest. In all ways that matter, yes, I am your mother; I changed your diapers. I sang you to sleep at night. I picked you up when you fell down. But in point of fact, I am your grandmother; I am Danu, Mother of the Gods.”

Her gray-haired aspect changed; she grew young, and became the woman I knew from our old photo album, except stars sparkled in her hair. Not fake ones; actual stars.
 

 
When a normal person meets the Mother of the Gods…

Wait? Did I just say 'when a normal person meets the Mother of the Gods?' Did I really?

I sighed; and shook my head. How had I come to this?

…anyway, said average person, upon meeting said Creatrix, would, I expect, have a natural propensity to fall to the ground, and jam his or her head into the earth as deep as possible.

Me? Remember, it was She who spanked me when I repainted our kitchen walls with blueberry yogurt. She was the only mother I'd known.

“Okay. This is me, taking a deep breath, and being patient for an explanation.”

Danu smiled at me, and when she did, the stars in the sky grew brighter.

“You, showing patience? What miracle is this? It's your new feminine perspective, yes? I should have switched The Dagda millennia ago; it would have saved the universes so much trouble.”

We sat in her garden of flowers, under a vast canopy of twinkling stars; I laid my head into her lap. She was my mother no matter what the relation.

But, that raised a question.

“The Dagda is your son and my father?” When she nodded, I said. “So I'm demi-god …er, goddess?”

“Demi-nothing!” She shook her head. “Your Mother is Rhiannon, goddess of Inspiration and the Moon. The literal translation of 'Deirbhile' is Daughter of Inspiration, Moon Harper. You are 100% pure grade goddess.”

Told ya! á€ine yelled from somewhere. You couldn't come here, to the gods' Realm of Beyond, unless you were.

Rhiannon? But why didn't she raise me? “Explain.”

“Your father you've met. Immense power, big hearted and a bit of an oaf and airhead; just ask á€ine. Your mother -lovely goddess; you must meet her soon- had all that bother with her first son, Pryderi. When he was born, she managed to lose the lad, and caused a ruckus that wasn't cleared for years. So, neither your mother or father could be called good parenting material.”

That made a certain amount of sense. “You stepped in and raised me? Because you didn't want me to be neglected?”

When She nodded, another question sprang up -She was right about me; I had an infinite supply of them-.

“Why did you raise me-”

“-In the earthly realm, rather than here, or the Summerland Realm, or any of the other ten thousand realms?”

“Y-yeah.” Holy crap! Ten thousand realms? Were they like, alternate universes?

Don't think on it Shauna; one impossibility at a time.

Hey? You're still listening to my thoughts, á€ine? Why aren't you flitting about?

I don't 'flit', my goddess, and we are joined forever; I share your every thought.

Danu smiled. “You have much to learn, daughter of my heart, of the infinite wonders of the universes, and your place in them as a Power. á€ine is your talisman alone. The Dagda borrowed her until your rising. She is your power conduit.”

“What if I lose her?” I said. Because, ya know, gods and heroes were always doing stupid crap like that.

“Not possible, Shauna Deirbhile; were she buried in the center of the earth, if you call her, she will come.”

I considered that; trying to piece together what I'd become. “So she's to me what Mjá¶lnir is to Thor?”

Please! I could kick Mjá¶lnir's ass, á€ine said.

Yeah? I didn't know hammers had asses, á€ine.

Shut up!

“But we digress,” Danu said. “The reason I raised you on earth, is the souls living in that blessed realm are, generation by generation, diminish.”

Diminish generation by generation? If anything, the world seemed more exciting; day by day, some new breakthrough stretches human possibilities further. No, not day by day, minute by minute.

“The Danaans are fading. You heard Tamsin speak of the Summerland realm? Hers may be the last generation to remember the Summerland path. Soon, Danaans will be indistinguishable from humans. You've seen their future, in the 'wondrous palace' beneath Boston.

Yes I had; it was Hans Christian Anderson's The Emperor's New Clothes come to life. All the Boston Danaans has left of magic was illusion.

“The Fomorians, too, have lessened,” Danu continued.

Oh? “I found them plenty powerful; they killed Chevonne and Leolin.”

Danu nodded, but gave me a sad smile. “If you could have seen them before when I birthed them! Now, they are anthropomorphic, becoming more manlike with age. Then, they were rocks and trees and earth come to life! Oh if you could have seen it, Shauna!”

“Isn't this evolution though? And …what's so bad about being human?”

Danu laughed and rubbed my head. “This is why I raised you as I did; you are connected to the world as it is today, in a way your brother gods and sister goddesses are not. Can you envision people 'relating' your father?

I snorted at the image of The Dagda stomping through New York, with his club and cauldron.

“Exactly. No, there is nothing wrong with being human; the works of mortal women and men are wonders to we gods, even. Yet, with each marvelous invention, as all is provided at the press of a button, what room is there for imagination?”

Danu sighed, and looked so worn down; her voice cracked. “My children's souls harden and the earth grows sterile.”

I'd lost her once; I would never do so again! I gripped her shoulders. “How can I help?”

Her face brightened. “You will reach them, Moon Harper, with your music. Music remains the one wonder all mortals still open to. You have the power and compassion. This I saw when you sacrificed your love for Sarah, and gave your old body, so Darcy and Sarah could be together. I dampened your power for as long as I could, hoping your time on earth would allow your compassion for mortals to grow. It has; you know their despair. Help them.”

“You want me to be a savior?”

She laughed and hugged me, and it felt so good to be in her arms. “Heavens no! The world's had saviors by the dozen, with more on the way. No Shauna, no! Bring them wonder! Make their souls sing!”

How would I do that?

By playing me, you dolt, á€ine said. She had wandered over to us and sat beside me.

Danu clasped my face in her hands. “A goddess or god eventually grows beyond the mortal world; with our powers and immortality, the gulf widens as the centuries fly by. Hang onto your connection to the Danaans, Humans and Fomors.”

She ran a hand through my hair. “This young female body was unexpected -who knew one of crazy Cethlenn's prophecies would come true?- but it pleases me, for it will ground you longer. Learn what it is to be a young woman in the world. Be gawky and awkward. Explore! Make mistakes! Stay with the mortals as long as you can so you may sing their souls awake. Play for the world, Moon Harper.”

Play for the world. What a concert that would be!

Not all at once, Shauna, but soul by soul, we will reach them, á€ine said.

How long have you known of this?

She shrugged, and looked amazing doing so, with those piercing blue eyes. I had always held her carefully, but I would do so all the more now.

Since the beginning of time you and I were destined to work wonders, Shauna Deirbhile.

I nodded, understanding at last my true purpose.

But a thought tickled my brain. “Mother, did you say I was to sing to the Fomors too? Last we left them, they were trying their damnedest to, um, off me.

“You are to play for all, daughter, just as I am Mother to all. But …while you should be careful to veil your full goddess aspect -mortals are not equipped to view the infinite- do not be shy in unleashing it as needed. Understood?”

As I nodded, á€ine snickered, oh, this is going to be good!

Danu stood and raised me up. “Return to earth; you have matters to address. Play for them, Shauna, just play!”

She gave me a fierce hug and kiss, then shooed us back up the path. “You know the way back here, come visit an old woman now and again.”

Then, floppy hat in place, she returned to tending her vast garden; which, I had figured out, was much more than a garden.
 

~o~O~o~

 
Hand in hand, á€ine and I walked back up the path and through the moon gate. When we stepped into Tamsin's grove, á€ine returned to 'harp form' in my hand.

All was as we'd left it; all were still frozen. Except, Chevonne and Leolin, who blinked, looked at me, and fell to the ground, prostrate.

“My goddess!” They said in unison. “Let us serve you; we beg you.”

Okay, so, this was awkward.

Deal with it, Moon Harper, you know what to do, á€ine said.

I did. These two were special to me. “Arise my Priest Peredur and Priestess Séarlait!”

After they didn't, á€ine prompted me. Dial back the goddess radiance and they will!

Oops. Forgot. I thought 'mortal Shauna', and the light surrounding me dimmed.

A loud FOOOOM snapped all the Danu priestesses from their trance.

“They've broken the last ward circle!” Leolin shouted, unsheathing his sword. “They are coming now!”

I strode in the direction my priest faced.

“Then let us greet them with a song.”
 

~o~O~o~

 
XVIII. October 29 Saturday 8 PM Tamsin Caroline's Farm
 
 
I wouldn't call the army that burst through the woods around Tamsin's farm as intimidating as the evil forces Peter Jackson conjured in the Rings trilogy, but then, Peter's was CGI, and these -trolls, ogres and night terrors- were real.

I swear, Shauna, á€ine said, you must be the geekiest goddess in the heavens.

I'm a goddess, hey? Where's the respect? The reverence?

Dream on.

I sighed; Apollo's lyre never back talked him like this, I was sure. Anyway, the Fomor force of several hundred looked somewhat frosty and bedraggled -my blizzard must have taken a toll- but they were plenty strong to overrun Tam's small crew.

The two leading the motley rabble I recognized: Farve, appearing cold and pissed, and Ldul, who survived, it appeared her Dagda assisted fiery sky trip. She did look singed; half her hair and her eyebrows were missing.

Chevonne's eyebrow -still red and beautiful and very much in place- raised as she saw the Fomor sorceress. And saw her hands rise in fire spell preparation.

“Shauna, I didn't fare so well last time,” Chevonne said, as she raised her shields.

“You are not the same as then,” I said, “you are my priestess.”

She took me on faith, and faced Ldul full blast once more.

Faith turned to knowledge as the flames glanced harmlessly away. A wicked grin crossed her face.

“Oh. My. Goddess,” meaning me, I supposed. “My power level is off the charts! I am so going to kick her butt.”

Chevonne counter attacked, chanting a spell to release a fiery ball of her own. Ldul’s shields held, though not before she was knocked back a good ten yards. The sorceress sat dazed on the frozen ground; blinking.

Farve stepped forward, and conjured a giant frost Cyclops with an incantation. Leolin leaped to engage, and with a thrust of his glowing sword, shattered the creature into thousands of frost shards. By the Fianna war whoop he let fly, I could tell my priest was also enjoying his amped power.

Isn't play time over, á€ine asked.

I agreed. “ENOUGH!”

My voice echoed through the forest and hills; and the Fomors halted their advance.

My fingers moved across á€ine in fast caresses as we spun out the tune Miranda and the Tempest

Angry clouds roiled the skies, and lightning struck in circles around the -now pee in pants terrified- Fomorians.
 

 
I walked to where Ldul and Farve crouched. “You and you! Stand! I would talk to you!”

They wobbled to their feet. Ldul -gotta love the gal- she managed to muster a sneer.

“We will fight you Daughter of Dagda. Even though we lose, though we die, we will not go quietly.”

She's more of a drama queen than you, á€ine said.

It seems to me, if a certain harp wanted to switch places to gobble dark chocolate, said harp might manage not to insult me so often.

You are wise and just, goddess; forgive your unworthy servant.

You know what's truly a miracle? How á€ine's voice sounds musical, sexy and sarcastic all at once.

“If I wanted to kill you, Ldul, I could do it now.” I strummed á€ine and lightning flashed over head.

“Then …what do you want? To enslave us? Our own goddess, Cethlenn warned us ages ago that a Daughter of Dagda would come-”

“-To upset the…” I strummed á€ine again for dramatic lightning flash effect. “…balance. Yeah, yeah. But what does that mean?”

“The balance of power,” Farve said, then the albino-eyed mage stopped speaking; and his pale brows furrowed. “But …if you have this much power, then you don't need to 'change the balance'… you could destroy us all with a …why are you here?”

“True, I am here to shake the status quo, among Danaans, Fomors and Humans. Danu has sent me, to all the mortals, to reawaken the song in their souls. She weeps for you and what you have lost.”

“And you will not destroy us?” When I shook my head, the sneer drained from Ldul's face. “Then what will you do?”

I held á€ine up.

“You've come to play?” Farve stammered. “That's it?”

“How can we believe you?” Ldul said.

I dialed up my goddess aspect, and a glow encircled me.

Why would I lie?

The Fomors fell to the ground, as my voice reverbered and echoed.

Cool effect. á€ine said.

Wasn't it? I answered, as I reined in my aspect.

When Farve and Ldul picked themselves up again, they had the cutest expressions of absolute confusion.

“But we tried to kill you,” Ldul said. “Why would you wish to help us?”

“Yes, I'm not thrilled about the 'shoot her on sight' relationship we've had so far, but I understand it. You believed I meant your people harm. And, unlike the Boston Danaans, you've been honest about it, except for what Roth did.” I was still enraged at what that creep had done to poor Darcy.

Farve grinned. “But Roth is not Fomorian. He bumped into you at a nearby local establishment it seems, and saw your resemblance to the description Cethlenn gave in her oracle convulsions. Our mages spent centuries developing a corruption spell to infect the Daughter of Dagda, but we weren't certain how to deliver it. The problem vexed us for eons. Roth offered us the perfect solution when he approached us. He said he gained your complete trust, and offered his services -for a hefty fee- to seduce you and implant it on you through a tattoo.”

As the Fomors were clueless about my switch, I saw no reason to educate them. What I wanted was more information on Roth. “If he wasn't Fomorian, how did he know of the prophecy?”

“Why, some Danaans study our history, just as we study yours.”

“Wait! He's Danaan?”

“Oh yes! And nephew to Prince-elector Donohue.”

I growled, and rapped á€ine's sound board; the earth cracked and groaned in front of us.

“Do me a favor, mage; tell Prince-elector Donohue and his slimy nephew that this goddess is pissed off. You tell 'em I'm comin' ... and Hell's coming with me!”

Oh yes I did! I Kurt Russelled 'em.

I was wrong; you way out diva Ldul.

Thanks á€ine, er, I think. Anyway, we'll let Mr. Stuck Up Prince-elector and toady Roth stew a bit, in their putrid juices.

Do you truly intend to punish them, Shauna? á€ine asked.

To be honest, I don't know. My mission on earth is to inspire, not be an avenging goddess. Yet, what Roth did to Darcy was hideously wrong. I will have to see what I feel when I track them down. They better pray I am in a forgiving mood.

You are the goddess, á€ine said.

Yes, I am.

And I must have taken on my goddess aspect again, because Farve bowed extra low.

“I shall convey your greeting with pleasure.”

“And then what do we do?” Ldul said. “We planned for generations to oppose your arrival. And now? What are we to do, O Daughter of Dagda?”

“Call me Shauna Deirbhile,” I said, with pride. “I am your harper, too. I will come among you, and play..."

Play what, á€ine asked. Have you ever heard Fomorian music?

"...er ...though I know not your songs. Please tell me it's not Death Metal.”

“Death Metal?” Farve's pure white eyebrow arched. “How bigoted of you to think so.”

“Well then, what do you like?”

“Not those stuffy old Danaan love ballads,” Farve groused. “Personally, I am a huge fan of the Dave Matthews Band.”

Ldul managed to look sheepish, if that was possible for the medusa-like sorceress. “I can't get me enough Béla Fleck.”

á€ine snorted, oh this should be interesting.
 

~o~O~o~

 
XIX. Epilogue - October 31, Samhain
 
 
To answer the 'what ifs' I raised at the beginning of this journey, I don't know if I had chosen Path B rather than A how different things would be. I do know now my true nature would have surfaced anyway; á€ine and I would have played, no matter what.

Leaving aside Cethlenn's prophecy that points to me becoming The Dagda's daughter instead of his son, I think …I think it misses the point to wonder if I could have avoided becoming a clumsy vulnerable 17 year old girl.

When you are not putting Boston into “Sleeping Beauty slumber” or wishing all a White Halloween with your blizzard or throwing down more lightning bolts than Zeus-

-I get your point, á€ine; I'm not helpless. Still, the question is not 'what if' but 'would I want it otherwise?’ Would I have wanted Darcy to die? For she would have. Or to see Sarah unhappy? I do see she and I could never have been as close as she is with Darcy.

Then why are you mopey, Moon Harper?

Rather than answering, I played another melancholy tune, as I sat beneath a massive oak tree near Tamsin's farm. I'd waved goodbye to 'Sean' and Darcy yesterday, watching them drive away to their amorous intimate lives.

Yeah, and I'd played a summer song, too, dispelling the snowstorm I'd conjured. Also, as a farewell song to the Fomorians, I even tossed out a harp version of Take Five, to show my new fans I played more than 'stuffy old love ballads.' But past that, all I strummed were songs of sorrow. Pitiful.

Yeah, Tamsin tried to cheer me, by saying what a wonderful gift I'd given her 'Sean'; true happiness. And by plying me with gallons of hot chocolate…

Yummmm, soooo good, á€ine moaned.

…but nothing could shake me from the funk I'd-

Honk Honk

A white van rolled to us, and Leolin and Chevonne hopped out. On the side of the van though, um …words escape me:
 

As I gawked, Leolin sat down on one side of me and Chevonne the other.

“Hi guys. Um, what's with the van?”

“We'll tell you in a moment,” my redheaded priestess said. “For now, we need our goddess to settle a bet.”

“Sure. If I can. What's the bet?”

“Which of us can shake you from your self-pitying swoon,” Leolin said.

“There's no need for this, I just-” Chevonne put a finger to my lips. “Age before beauty Leo; you go first.”

The former knight/now Moon Harper priest, straightened his golden hair, took me in his arms, leaned me down to the ground, and kissed me.

…and kissed me.

…and kissed me.

“I …I …I…”

I want some of that candy, á€ine purred. Gimme gimme gimme!

It took a moment to breathe again and open my eyes. When I did, I was greeted by the smuggest look on Leolin's face.

“Beat that, priestess!”

Chevonne didn't look worried. She shooed Leolin aside and hovered over me.

“Shauna?” she crooned, "you remember our kiss in Boston don't you?”

After I nodded, she bent close to my ear and whispered. “You loved it, didn't you? You want some more?”

I truly did! I even tried to pucker my lips in what I hoped was a sexy look, though I imagined it didn't quite hit the mark:
 

 
Chevonne giggled, then pressed her red lips to mine, exploring my mouth with her tongue; my entire body vibrated in response. I felt something squeeze one of my furry boots.

“Her toes are curled, dammit. You win, priestess,” Leolin growled. “This round. Though in the next -where I shall please her with that which you lack- I shall triumph.”

Wait! Was he talking sex? With me? Gross!

Never fear, my goddess. I will save you! á€ine said. When he tries, we shall switch, because …I want him.

That was far too weird a thought for me to begin to process it; I propped up on my elbows and shook my head to focus.

Chevonne's face had softened in concern and Leolin stroked my hair. Even á€ine vibrated by my side. What's up, hey?

When I asked them, a bit of my goddess voice crept in. “You. You three. What is this about?”

“You are not alone, Shauna Deirbhile,” Chevonne said.

“You shall never know loneliness again, goddess,” Leolin added.

“Yeah, I get I'm your goddess, so it's your duty to-”

“-You don't get it!” Chevonne said. “We love you!”

“But why? In this body, I'm an awkward teenage girl, a-”

“-bratty girl, who is also most pretty,” Leolin said.

“Learning is part of the fun, Moon Harper,” Chevonne said, “and we will have such fun teaching you. Think of the epic songs that will come from it.”

Face it Shauna, we are family, á€ine said.

“And the van? What happened to your Charger?”

“The van is my Charger. We converted her for you.”

“But why a van?” I said. I kind of liked the cool muscle car.

“Because we are going on tour, sweetie," Chevonne said. "Danu sent you here for this, correct?”

To sing to souls, yes! To wake them! To fill them with wonder. With music.

My priest and priestess were right! I was all action now; I hopped to my feet.

“Let's get going.”

About damned time! á€ine said.
 

~o~O~o~

 
And so we four hit the road. Yeah, I was still sad about losing Sarah, but á€ine was right; we were family, albeit a strange one.

Yet, I loved and was loved in return. In the end, what more is there?

So listen up, world; look for flyers announcing harpist Shauna Deirbhile is coming soon, to a bar, restaurant or small venue near you.

Keep an eye out for us; you might see an inhumanly handsome and golden haired man taking your money for a ticket, an á¼ber hot redhead singing otherworldly backup vocals, and a geeky dark-haired lass with a harp.

Or, you might see a goddess with a mighty instrument of legend in her hand and a powerful priestess and priest by her side.

Either way, we'll give you the best damn show we can. You'll leave feeling so much better, I guarantee it.

And if you can't find us playing near you, don't fret; you can still catch á€ine and me gigging. One night …no, make it this night, walk outside, gaze up at the stars and moon…

and listen.
 
 

 
 
 
the end.