After class on Wednesday, I return to Drummond Lane via the Green and the shortcut alleyway to Seamus’s bungalow. Gloomy clouds hang in the sky like a heavy blanket, and the bitter wind bites my skin. I pull my scarf across my face as I tap on the front door, not knowing how long I’ll have to wait on the stoop. I was dreading this conversation with him, but now that I’m here, it’s a relief to clear the air.
“Come in, Gwynedd. Thank you for agreeing to this meeting.”
Seamus is dressed in his usual professor attire, a DUB long-sleeved polo shirt and casual pants, his black hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“Sure,” I say, entering. “Where do you want to talk?”
He gestures to the living room. “Is this acceptable?”
“Yeah. Anywhere is fine with me. I told you I trust you.”
I recall our training session a few weeks ago as I sit on the sofa. The painting of my mother no longer hangs over the fireplace. A picture of tiny fairies dancing in the woods has replaced it. Seamus sits across from me, leaning his cat-head cane against the arm of the chair. I set my backpack on the floor and unzip my jacket. He wrings his hands while his eerie eyes dart back and forth between me and the fireplace. I break the ice.
“You removed Aunt Gorawen’s painting. You didn’t have to do that for me.”
“I thought it best to not view it daily. It’s stored in a closet. Gwynedd, I cannot lie and say I’m sorry I kissed you that afternoon. I will cherish the moment forever.”
For fuck’s sake. He’s starting with the kiss?
“My affection for you shall remain with me until my deathbed. But I don’t expect you to reciprocate. I understand how much you love Archie. My heart aches knowing you can never return the love I have for you.”
How do I respond to him baring his soul? “I care for you, Seamus, and I sensed you had deeper feelings for me than simple friendship. I need to apologize to you.”
“Whatever for?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrows.
“I shouldn’t have asked you to teach me your cat sith secrets. I took advantage of our friendship, and I’m so sorry.”
A faint smile curls his mouth. “Then I need to offer an additional apology as well. I used your desperation to get closer to you. I strayed from my principles, but it will never happen again.”
“So, what happens now?”
An unfulfilled yearning wets his eyes. “We remain good friends. My objectives have never faltered. I am devoted to your welfare. Nothing will ever change that.”
Part of me aches because I can’t return Seamus’s deep affection. But if there’s one thing in my life I’m sure of, it’s my love for Dr. Archibald Cockburn. My gut tenses up, and I bend over a little, rubbing my abdomen.
“Are you ill, Gwynedd?”
“No. My witch’s intuition signals me this way sometimes—a pinch inside. Or it’s gas,” I say with a chuckle. “I’m not experienced enough to decipher the signs.” I stare at the fairy painting over the fireplace, thinking of Ashley Lewis. “Seamus? I’ve spoken to Archie about this, but I want your opinion.”
“Sounds like a serious matter,” he says, tapping the brass cat head of his cane.
“Let me ask you a question first. I understand your area of expertise is Irish folklore, but what is the possibility of a Tylwyth Teg fairy crossing over?”
“A Tylwyth Teg? Why do you ask?”
“The magic we both observed at the Pumpkin House—the trail I keep picking up on—had a different…flavor is the best description.”
“Yes. That’s a perfect way to label it.”
“I’ve come in contact with the odd magic residue in other places, like the Green, the Celestial Gardens, on the path to the bog in North Basin Creek Park—and in Dr. Lewis’s place. I babysit Aidan on Monday afternoons.”
“The residue in Ashley’s apartment could be—”
“Nuada. Yes. That’s what I believed the first time I encountered it there. Originally, I thought it was PTSD, having not been there since I…”
“Terminated his existence?” he asks. One thing I can say about Seamus. He’s always direct.
I swallow and clear my throat. “Yes. I was sure it was residue from his soul, essence, whatever a fairy has. But I experienced it other times as well. The town has returned to normal since the Baby Nabbers were arrested, but my intuition continues to send me conflicting signals. It’s not strong enough to point me to the source of my fears. I’ve been stumbling along, trying to figure out what it’s telling me. It’s why I came to you. I was worried a rogue witch was helping the kidnappers and wanted to root her out. But now I think those criminals may not have committed the local kidnappings after all. I think a Tylwyth Teg has crossed over from the Otherworld.”
“You think Ashley Lewis is a Welsh fairy? You’ll need more evidence than magic residue in her apartment. The kidnapped children were returned. Is there any evidence they are changelings?”
“The mom of the infant stopped in Mystic Sage one day to shop for holiday gifts. She said her baby hasn’t acted normal since his return. She spoke to the parents of the older two children and found out they have exhibited behavior problems in school. Archie believes trauma explains their emotional difficulties, but Jenny literally said she feels like it’s not her baby. Also, I ran into Ashley at the park on the trail to the bog. Again, I don’t have solid evidence, only my witch’s intuition. But there’s something strange going on there. I’m sure of it.”
He taps his cane on the floor as if the knocking helps him think. “That’s not much to go on, Gwynedd. In addition, the kidnappings ended when the Baby Nabbers were incarcerated.”
“I know, but we have to prepare for the possibility, don’t you think?”
“Did you tell the Bearsden Coven about your theories?”
“No. I’ve shared my suspicions with Archie…and you.”
He smiles again. “I am honored you are willing to share this information with me. What will you do to confirm your speculation?”
“Keep an eye on her, I suppose.” I grab my backpack and stand. “I need to stop by the house and eat lunch.”
Seamus leans on his cane as he stands. “Please, let me prepare a quick meal for you. No strings attached. I promise.”
“Sure. I could help.”
