Worlds Without End by Caroline Spector Read Free Book Online Page B

worked our way across the maze of streets that led to St. Stephen’s Green. Nestled next to ancient stone buildings were brick flats put up in the nineteen-hundreds next to chip-implanting shops. Dublin wasn’t a flash city like New York or LA. She crept up on you and worked her charms in subtler ways. A hint of the past here. A bit of the future there.
    Once we were in St. Stephen’s I relaxed a little. I was certain no one was tailing us: the old woman had turned off on Bride Street. Since then, the crowd thickened and thinned, but no one seemed at all interested in Caimbeul and me.
    “Where do you want to stay?” Caimbeul asked.
    “Stephen’s Hall?”
    “Do they have a decent security rating?”
    “Good enough.” I said. “It’s not like we’re going underground.”
    The hotel overlooked St. Stephen’s Green with its emerald grass and drooping willows. We checked in and followed the troll bell boy up to our suite.
    We left a wake-up call for six.
    * * *
    The rains came at four. I woke to a crash of thunder and the sound of hail hitting the windows. For a moment I was disoriented and thought I was back in the kaer. A suffocating darkness pressed against me. But then I saw the night sky as Caimbeul opened the drapes.
    “Where did this come from?” he wondered aloud.
    “If I were more superstitious.” I said, “I would say it was a sign.”
    “A sign?”
    “Yes. They know we’re here. But it’s more likely this is the Doineann Draoidheil.”
    He didn’t say anything to that. Knowing he was watching there at the window made me feel safe. And as I drifted back to sleep, I smiled.

Tonight she doesn't dream.
    9
    Bells.
    I swam up from the murky depths and realized before I opened my eyes that it was the telephone. Couldn’t they afford to replace these fraggin’ antiques? I thought. Swatting at the phone, I managed to drag it from its cradle and sent the base crashing to the floor. Damn things, I never got used to them when they appeared and now that they were obsolete, I was still plagued with them.
    “Whazzit?”
    “Your wake-up call.” The voice was computerized and pretematurally perky. I hate that.
    I let the receiver drop. It missed the base and thudded on the carpet. Burrowing further into the covers, I let the lovely blackness drag me down again.
    “Aina.” said Caimbeul, pulling the covers off me.
    “Time to get up.”
    I lay there for a moment not moving. It occurred to me that though we Elders weren’t supposed to mortally wound one another, there was always a first time for everything. Instead, I rolled onto my back and glared at him in what I hoped would be a frightening manner.
    “That won’t work.” he said. He was dressed in black. His hair was pulled back into that annoying ponytail. At least he’d laid off dyeing it red for a while. “I’m not even a little intimidated by your bad moods. I lived with them for years. They just don’t impress me anymore.”
    I muttered something unintelligible, hoping it would be taken for a scathing remark. But it wasn’t. He knew me too well.
    Stumbling to the bathroom, I hoped that there was at least hot water for a shower.
    * * *
    We rented a car and made our way west from Dublin out of Dublin County through Kildare to Offaly and into Galway. A heavy mist lay over the land making the greens muted and soft. Much of the land had gone wild. I knew this was part of the Awakening.
    The land was going back to what it was before humans had put their mark upon it. Remnants of that earlier time existed before the Awakening. The Giant’s Causeway in Antrim was one such place. Some said it was cooling lava that produced the hexagon-shaped stones leading from the mountains down to the sea, but I knew better.
    “How are you going to find the Court?” Caimbeul asked. “They could be anywhere.”
    “Yes, but those who know where they are keep to certain places. We’re going there.”
    “To the tombs?”
    “Yes, and other places.”
    “You