Antirion: The Forgotten Isle

By Anna Berlinger

What if the Irish folklore, legends, and mythology were real? Antron: The Forgotten Isle answers this question through the epic story of a young girl living in Ireland during the early 20th century. Through a shift of fate, Katie Sullivan and her companions are swept into a parallel world, where the ancient Irish mythical creatures have been preserved from the sands of time. Antron, the pure country, was once a land of beauty ruled by pure and just creatures. However, in recent years, evil has fallen upon the country. The very spirits and faeris who preserve the land are disunited, and it seems that the fate of Antron rests in the hands of the only race of creatures who can save her: humans from another world. Taking a fresh twist on the classic images of banshees, fairis, and leprechauns, and adding other less-known creatures from Irish mythology, Antron: The Forgotten Isle, is a fantasy novel rich in ancient Irish culture and filled to the brim with medieval excitement and danger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 18, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493173136

Book preview

Chapter 1

New Residency

(1910)

S ixteen year old Katie Sullivan looked out from behind her hooded wrap at the world around her. Her blue eyes scanned the unfamiliar scenery, as she wondered what her new home would be like. Wow! So this is Wicklow! she said to herself, as she glanced around at the numerous houses. It’s a lot different from Colorado, that’s for sure! As the bumpy wagon jolted along down the road, Katie allowed her mind to reminisce on her journey so far. She was a native born American. Having lost both her parents at a young age, Katie was sent to an orphanage at the age of ten. She then spent the following years of her life cooped up in a small house, bursting with children of all ages. In time, word finally reached the little orphanage that Katie’s late mother had been a British immigrant from Ireland, and that she still had a sister living overseas. In an effort to dispense of as many children as possible, the orphanage’s mistress sent a brief letter to Katie’s aunt, saying that the child was her responsibility. Having allowed the letter a day’s head start, she then quickly shoved Katie out the door with money for her fare and a guide to lead her to the docks. Katie was so stunned by her life’s sudden change of direction that she could not even think straight until she was safely on the boat, bound for the Isles.

After the initial shock of her departure had worn off, Katie was able to welcome this new and exciting change with open arms. Having never traveled away from the children’s home, Katie was thrilled by the sheer thought of a voyage overseas. During the entire trip, Katie spent as much time as possible on the deck of the ship. Having been sheltered in an orphanage for six years of her life, Katie hungrily enjoyed the overwhelming feeling of freedom: allowing the wind to blow her long brown hair and listening awestruck to the piercing cry of the sea gulls as they glided overhead. Above all else, the most breathtaking view of all was the sight of a lustrous silver green isle slowly appearing on the horizon: Ireland. At the sight of her new home with the rising sun silhouetting it against the sky, Katie’s heart and soul flew on ahead of the boat, riding on the wings of the gulls, as she longed to step foot on the land of her father’s people. However, when Katie disembarked and glanced around at her unfamiliar surroundings, she was instantly swept away with an overwhelming sense of loneliness. Gazing back at the ocean receding into the horizon, Katie suddenly felt the strangeness of this new world. Standing there, alone on the dock, she felt very uncertain as numerous questions flew through her mind. Where should she go? Was she supposed to locate her luggage? What was she expected to do? Stepping off of the dock, Katie meandered away in an attempt to find someone who could help her. Soon, she was engulfed in the bustle of the city. Hurrying to the side of the road so as to get out of the way of Wicklow’s numerous carriages and rushing people, Katie then came to grips with the full reality of her situation. She was alone in a large world. Instinctively, she reached into her shirt to pull out a small, wooden crucifix that she always wore around her neck. Her parents had given it to her, and she felt more connected to them whenever she wore it. It seemed that during such moments of fear, it would help if Katie could feel that her parents were nearby, that they were always there with her. The crucifix gave Katie that assurance and faith. In fact, sometimes clutching it tightly and saying a short prayer seemed to give her renewed courage.

Luckily, Katie did not need to wait very long. Not long after her arrival, a kind elderly man in a weather worn hat introduced himself to Katie. Showing her to his wagon, he said his name was Colin O’Neil, Lady Morace’s cabdriver, and that Katie’s aunt had sent him to fetch her. When she explained to him the first of her problems, he quickly helped her locate her few bags, containing her meager belongings, and placed them in the back of his wagon. The second part of Katie’s journey then commenced very quickly as Mr. O’Neil helped her into the wagon, and they started off.

As Mr. O’Neil drove the wagon away from the docks, Katie still felt a level of uncertainty growing inside her. She made as little conversation with her companion as possible and kept her eyes mostly downcast. But, as soon as the wagon left Wicklow behind and was bumping along the cobblestone country roads, Katie became quickly mesmerized by the beauty of the Irish landscape. Now in the countryside, she breathed deeply of the early morning air. Allowing her fear to wash away, Katie gazed out at the countryside as if in a dream, absorbing all the beauty and tranquility of the land. Reaching into the carpetbag which held her dearest belongings, Katie pulled out a book containing all of her mother’s old photos of Ireland in order to compare them to her surroundings. The images had always been so breathtakingly beautiful to her; and now they seemed washed out in comparison to the reality. As Katie replaced the treasure in her carpetbag to continue her observations, she felt absolutely certain that her life was only just beginning, and that everything before had been nothing more than a bad dream. Katie loved the small stonewalls lining the roadsides and the green rolling hills that seemed to continue on into eternity. When an unseen shepherd boy began piping a lilting Celtic tune somewhere amidst the trees, Katie’s soul overflowed with joy.

Well, wee miss, said a voice, waking Katie from her daydreams. What do ye think a’ this here country a’ ours?

Oh, it’s positively breathtaking, Katie sighed. Mr. O’Neil smiled with pride and adjusted his pipe.

Ye’ll be a’seein’ much more a’ it ’fore the days’ up. Gidd’ye up. he replied, gently coaxing the horse onward with his whip. As the wagon jolted on its course to its destination, Katie continued to reminisce.

I just can’t believe it, Katie whispered. It looks almost exactly like my mother’s pictures; and yet, it’s more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. Mr. O’Neil glanced at Katie from under his bushy eyebrows.

I take it yer Ma ware a’native ta these parts? asked the Irishman.

Oh no, Katie replied. My mother was British. She and my aunt moved here many years before I was born. Mother used to tell me such wonderful stories of this place and its kind people. It was here that she met my father, Darby Sullivan. Did you know him?

Neh, couldn’t say rightly, Mr. O’Neil replied. There be a’good many Irish folks livin’ by that name.

I see, Katie said. Well, if you had known my father, you would have remembered him. I always thought him quite dashing with his dark hair, brown eyes, and faint accent. He loved both me and mother very much: enough to leave this beautiful land in order to make a better home for us in America. Despite the distance, mother and father told me how much they wished that I could see Ireland someday. Father especially used to tell me all kinds of wonderful stories of his childhood and the happy times he spent here.

Well, now ye have finally got ta see it fer yerself, Mr. O’Neil replied jovially.

Yes, I have, Katie replied, cheerfully.

The day continued to pass slowly and the little wagon made very few stops along the way. With the sun passing high noon, Mr. O’Neil urged the horses into a fast trot. It became apparent to Katie that Mr. O’Neil intended to arrive before nightfall and did not wish to stop at any village for the night. With this resolve, Katie enjoyed the scenery with joyful anticipation, and the hours passed quickly. They had travelled about thirteen miles when Katie noticed the road took a sharp left turn. Within a few minutes, Katie could see a forest off to her right. Beyond it in the north, she could make out the shadowy figures of distant mountains. There was a small path that branched off from the main road towards the forest. Due to the many stones and untrimmed foliage along it, Katie could tell that the path had not been used in quite some time. I’d advise ye ta keep clear a’ that forest there, wee miss, Mr. O’Neil said, pointing to the strangely gnarled trees that marked the forest’s entrance. It be a rather frightenin’ place. There be many tales circulatin’ ’bout it, and take me word fer it, it tain’t a place ye’d wish ta be caught in unawares.

I will keep that in mind, Katie said respectfully, as they drove passed the deserted road. Thank you. As the wagon continued on, Katie could not resist one last look back at the forest’s mysterious borders. Directing her gaze to the cobblestone road ahead, she saw what looked like a large house in the distance: a dark silhouette against the horizon.

That be the old Conner Castle, Mr. O’Neil said, following Katie’s gaze. An impressive piece a’ ancient architecture, that is.

Does Aunt Vanessa live around here? Katie asked. Mr. O’Neil laughed at her question.

Why a’course, he replied. ’Tis yer aunt that owns the Conner Castle." Katie whirled around to face the Irishman with astonished eyes.

My aunt lives in a castle? she asked dumbfounded. Mr. O’Neil’s face shown with merriment.

It’taint abnormal fer rich folks ’round here ta live in castles. They’re as much a part a’ Ireland as any of us. The Conner Castle has been a’standin’ fer, well, many more years then I’ve been livin’. The place has been Morace property for nigh thirty years now. Oh, but it’s the most beautiful ol’ piece a’ architecture ye could ever hope ta feast yer eyes on. She’s powerful rich, that Miss Morace. I’m certain she’ll make ye right comfortable, in body at least.

What do you mean by that? Katie asked curiously.

Well, Mr. O’Neil scratched his head, meanin’ no disrespect to the misses, but she can be a real cantankerous old thing if she gets her goat up. Just be on yer guard for a few harsh words when ye first see her, that is, ’til she’s gotten used ta the idea a’ you living with her. Real angry, she was, just a few days ago, when she got the letter, sayin’ that you’d be a’comin’. Ho! Mr. O’Neil whistled loud and long before continuing. Saints preserve us if I ever live ta see again the likes a’ such a fury, it ’ould most likely stop me old ticker fer good! As Katie laughed, Mr. O’Neil’s eyes fell upon her crucifix.

You really are a marvel, Mr. O’Neil, Katie said, oblivious as to the direction of his gaze.

Yeh, that I be, the older man chuckled. But, ye’d better tuck that little ornament under yer blouse, afore ye see yer aunt, he said in a low tone, pointing to Katie’s crucifix. It’ouldn’t be good luck to put yer stay here off ta a bad start. It’d be best ta not have yer aunt be seein’ things like that.

What do you mean? Katie asked, placing a protective hand over the sacramental. Mr. O’Neil sighed.

Let’s jest say yer aunt’ tisn’t a’ the same religion as you and I, and I don’t believe she’d allow ye to keep it once she’d laid eyes on it.

But, Katie said. Mama told me that she, along with the rest of her family, was Anglican; that is, until father converted my mother.

That be news, even ta the likes a’ an old gossip like me, Mr. O’Neil exclaimed in honest surprise. Pausing a moment, he continued, Well, let’s jest say that I’ve known a few a’ them Anglicans meself over the course a’ the years. Quite nice folk, and very kind-hearted, if I do say so. I’m not one ta put up barriers o’er such a thing as religion; so, there are even a few amongst ’em whom I would not hesitate ta call friends. Knowin’ their kind like I do, I’d be less then inclined ta believe that such a heartless, godless woman could be a’ their belief. Taking out his pipe, Mr. O’Neil took on a more serious tone. Yer aunt may ’ave been brought up Christian once ’on time, but there’s no man can convince me that she’s a’ the same religion now. Tapping Katie’s crucifix with his pipe, he concluded, I’m tellin’ ye, if she ever caught sight a’ that there Sacred Image, she’d spirit it away so fast that ye wouldn’t even know she’d done it. It’s her way, ye know. Thinking silently, Katie looked up at Mr. O’Neil.

Do you mean that my aunt doesn’t believe in…

I wouldn’t know what ta tell ye, child, Mr. O’Neil replied, replacing the pipe in his mouth. I just know what I’ve seen, and thought it kindly ta warn ye. At that final word, both fell silent. As Conner Castle loomed larger at their approach, Katie began to wonder if it truly looked as grand as she had once thought. As they neared the place that would be her new home, Katie gazed upward in awe. With its antique stone walls, clinging ivy and time-worn bulwarks, Conner Castle seemed like it had been plucked right out of a history book. As Mr. O’Neil’s humble wagon bumped through the open, iron gates and onto the horseshoe drive, Katie found herself stunned to silence at the beauty of her new home. Despite its rough exterior, Katie felt the castle possessed an ethereal quality: a mystery hidden behind its stone walls.

Alright, here we be, Mr. O’Neil muttered in a more melancholy tone than usual. The sun was setting in the west, and the light of it shone full on the castle. The two had been traveling for almost an entire day. As the kind driver helped Katie out of the wagon, he allowed a quite dejected sigh to escape him before climbing back up onto his perch. If ye be needin’ anything else, Miss Sullivan, he said, don’t hesitate ta call on me. I’ll make sure that yer luggage is brought in and delivered ta yer room.

Thank you, Mr. O’Neil, Katie said, shaking his hand. I thoroughly enjoyed the ride here and your kindness to me. Nodding quickly, the old Irishman flicked his whip. As the wagon jolted down a side path, Mr. O’Neil took one last look at the slim figure standing on the drive.

Poor thing, he muttered to himself. Poor wee thing. And she’s such a good girl too.

After Mr. O’Neil was quite out of sight behind the castle, Katie stared blankly up at the massive steps leading toward the door. Wow, she thought, as she began to ascend the stairway. I can’t believe this place is actually my home. Gazing up at the gigantic door, Katie found that it did not seem as intimidating as the mistress within. Katie felt her heart beat hard against her chest, and she clutched her small, wooden crucifix tightly.

Well, she said, brushing a piece of her brown hair behind her ear, Here it goes. Placing her carpetbag on the floor, Katie grabbed the brass knocker with both her hands and lifted it. The knocker slammed back down with a tremendous crash. After what seemed like hours to Katie, but was only a few seconds in reality, a young maid answered the door. She was tall, thin and apparently in her late twenties. Her red hair was done up in a knot on the back of her head, and she carried a feather duster.

Yes, said the maid, in her thick Irish brogue. What can I do for ye? Katie didn’t know what to say.

Uh, I’m the new resident, she finally replied. The maid stared at Katie a minute, questioningly. Thinking that something was wrong, Katie brushed some of the soot and dust from her long ride off of her clothes and stood up straighter. I’m Katie Sullivan, she added. At the mention of the familiar last name, the maid seemed to remember and spoke rather cheerfully.

Oh, dear, ye must forgive me behavior, she said. I didn’t realize you were the niece a’ the Misses.

Yes, said Katie, much relieved, I am.

Well, may the saints be praised! We’ve been expecting ye, the maid said kindly. Cum right with me, and I’ll show ye to yer aunt. Katie’s heart pounded as the maid ushered her through the door. As Katie glanced around the foyer of the castle, her mouth gaped. Despite its ancient, Gaelige exterior, the inside of the Conner Castle possessed the décor of a palace in England. There were chairs with lion’s heads carved on the arms, and mirrors that reached to the ornately carved ceiling. There was intricate, wooden molding where the walls and the ceiling met. On the wall, there hung the Morace’s family coat of arms. The castle was very beautiful; yet, Katie felt that there was something lonely and sad about it.

I wonder if I’m going to like it here. Katie thought as she watched the door slam shut behind her. After the lock had clicked, Katie stood up straight and tucked the loose ends of her shirt back into her overalls. Well, she thought, fingering the handles of her carpetbag. Even if I don’t, it doesn’t really matter. I’m nearly an adult now, and I can make the best of it. The maid’s voice interrupted Katie’s thoughts.

Wait here, she said, I’ll go and announce ye properly. Would ye like me to take that bag fer ye, miss?

No, it’s alright, Katie replied quickly. I’ll just hold on to it. Nodding in understanding, the maid rushed out a side door, and Katie resumed her inspection of the room.

I can’t believe it, Katie said, aloud to herself. One moment I was riding in a wagon along Ireland’s countryside, and now I’m in an Irish castle decorated to look like Buckingham Palace! A few minutes later, the maid returned.

Yer aunt says she’d like to see ye now, she said. Just cum with me, and I’ll show ye to her. She’s in the library. Katie was led out of the foyer towards a door on the far side of the room. As Katie walked towards the door, the maid opened it and gestured inside.

This is the library, she said. Yer aunt is awaitin’ ye. Katie stepped through the door and glanced around the room. It was enormous! The walls were lined with shelves upon shelves of books, stretching high above her. Katie thought there must have been at least a million. In the center of the room, there was a wooden rising. A large desk, littered with books and papers of all sorts, stood in the middle of it. Since the back wall of the room was one, gigantic window, large quantities of sunlight were allowed to pour through it into the room. On either side of the room, two spiral staircases wound up to a balcony overhead. Upon it were four shelves filled with hundreds more books. As Katie looked up, she made out the figure of a woman. She was filing through books on the shelves, scanning the names on the binders for the desired novel. Mum, the maid called out. I’ve brought yer niece, as ye requested. The woman on the balcony paused in her search and walked towards the railing. Wielding a pair of spectacles, she peered through them at the figure below her.

Goodness, she said. Is this truly the child? Placing the spectacles on the end of her nose, the aunt walked toward the spiral staircase. Her piercing gaze never shifted from Katie. She’s not a very pretty thing. Then again, my sister always did prefer the homely look. First, it was that fool, Mr. Sullivan, and now this ragamuffin. Suddenly conscious of her disorderly attire, Katie felt her face burn red hot. Despite her embarrassment, Katie felt an anger raise up inside her when the insults made against her father reached her ears. However, she retained her self-composure as Vanessa descended the final steps. The woman’s face bore a very stern expression as her eyes scanned the girl before her. How old are you, child, she said, suddenly addressing Katie. Come, come! Don’t dawdle, now, speak up!

I’m sixteen, Katie replied as quickly as possible. But I’ll be seventeen this summer, she added with a note of pride. To Katie’s dismay, Vanessa shook her head.

She is also much older than I expected, the woman mused. A child would have been easier to care for than a defiant teen. Had I known, I might not have followed through with this arrangement. Inwardly, Katie simmered. Knowing full well that her aunt had no say in the matter to begin with, this attempt at a show of power annoyed Katie. Unexpectedly, the maid stepped forward.

I know she’s not what you’d been expectin’, Misses. But, I’m sure she’ll work out just fine, mark me words. From what I’ve seen, she’s a good and obedient girl, she is. And I don’t think she’ll resort to any tom foolery o’ that sort.

You may keep your comments to yourself, Margaret, Vanessa said strictly, moving some of her papers aside and sitting down at the desk. Leave us and prepare the spare bedroom upstairs. Curtsying to her mistress, the maid, Margaret, left with what seemed to Katie, an expression of pity on her face. Thus, Katie was left alone with her aunt. Come here, said Vanessa, with a straightforward expression on her face. Obediently, Katie stepped towards her aunt. She didn’t look anything like what Katie had expected. The woman was tall and slender, possibly in her forties. Her dress was gray and lined with lace. Any part of her skin that was exposed, such as her pale hands and neck, were covered with jewelry of all sizes. Her black hair was pulled back, and her face, despite its tight and stern appearance, showed the signs of a once beautiful woman.

What is your name? asked Aunt Vanessa, peering over her spectacles.

I’m Katie, she responded quickly and assertively.

Katie, that name will never do, Vanessa said. That can’t be your full name. Tell it to me, child. I don’t take kindly to lies.

Oh, no! said Katie. I never meant to lie! It’s just, I’m always called Katie. So, I forgot it was just a nickname.

Well, said Vanessa. "What is your real name then? Honestly, child, who in their right mind would accept any name other than their own. Come, answer me!"

Catherine Sullivan, Katie replied, trying to hold her head high.

Well, said Vanessa in a different tone, "That is at least tolerable. Sitting taller in her chair, she continued, Catherine will be your name from now on."

But… Katie protested.

Talking back! Vanessa interrupted. I can see your education as well as your clothing lack much to be desired. For the sake of decency, I will refrain from asking where you found that rag you are wearing. The people of Colorado must be quite the uncivilized community to allow their young women to walk about in men’s clothes. But, no matter, there are plenty of decent dresses up in your room. Rising from the desk, she continued. Now, listen carefully. I don’t like having to repeat my words. The early morning shall consist of breakfast and your piano lessons immediately afterwards, followed by a light lunch at noon. Then in the early afternoon, you will be tutored in reading, writing, and arithmetic. After that, I will give you lessons in manners and etiquette, after which you shall take part in some calming activity such as reading or embroidery. Dinner is in the early evening, followed directly by retirement to bed. Margaret will show you your room. Between your etiquette lessons and dinner, you will have exactly two hours to spend some time by yourself. During these two hours, you may do what you wish; however, you must remember to return to the castle on time. I will not have you late for dinner. Do you understand?

Yes Madam, Katie replied, robotically. Vanessa nodded, contentedly. Arranging her many necklaces, Vanessa removed her spectacles and placed them on the table. The interrogation was over. Reaching to the table next to her, Vanessa picked up a small hand bell and rang it. A few seconds later, Margaret came running in, somewhat breathless. She was holding a wet rag in one of her hands and a bar of soap in the other. Pieces of frazzled hair, which had come out of her tight bun, now hung freely around her face.

Margaret, said Vanessa, Show Catherine to her room now.

Yes, Mum, the maid replied. She was about to usher Katie out of the room, when Vanessa stopped her abruptly.

Oh, and Margaret, she said. Look into preparing some informal parties for the wealthy families living about. There are other British girls her age living near here, and I believe they would leave a very good impression. Lord knows she is in desperate need of it! Their mothers and fathers are very upstanding individuals and are quite respected amongst the distinguished people of the community. After all, a good first impression is everything. Glancing back at Katie, Vanessa left her thoughts and lowered her voice strictly. You will behave properly around them, Catherine. I will not have you acting like a savage and ruining the good name of this family. Hopefully, through their example, you will be able to make something of yourself. You will be trained as a young lady and will attempt to act as such. Is that understood?

Yes, Aunt Vanessa, Katie said. She spoke quietly, but her voice bore a hint of disgust. Vanessa noticed it, and raised her voice.

You are a most ungrateful child, Vanessa reproved. I have spared you from living the life ordinary orphans must experience. The least you can do is to show some gratitude by complying with my wishes. There is so much work to be done. Waving her hand to Margaret, Vanessa signaled for Katie to be taken away. With utmost haste, the maid ushered Katie out of the room. As the door shut behind them, Katie relaxed her clenched fists and let out a disgusted sigh.

Goodness, she whispered to herself. Aunt, indeed! She acts like I’m a sack that she’s forced to carry around. Well, she needn’t feel obliged. I can take care of myself. I don’t need her. I don’t need anyone anymore! After Margaret had led Katie back into the foyer, she casually swung her sopping dishtowel over her shoulder and shoved the bar of soap into her apron pocket. Feeling guilty for her use of language, Katie addressed the maid.

I’m sorry I spoke that way. I know I shouldn’t be disrespectful, but you didn’t hear some of the things she said to me after you left. To put it plainly, she considers me nothing but a burden. Katie let out an exasperated sigh. For a while, Margaret did not say anything, and Katie was afraid that she was still offended. However, the maid stopped walking and turned to Katie.

I know what ye mean, Miss, said Margaret, sadly. She is dreadful. Katie glanced up at the maid. She couldn’t help but notice the sad expression on her face.

Well, if you don’t like my aunt, then why don’t you just get another job? Katie asked, as they entered another room.

I would Miss, if I could, answered Margaret, sadly. But it’s not my place. Katie stopped, aghast.

Do you mean to say you’re a slave? she asked mortified.

Oh no, Miss. I work for yer aunt, and she, in exchange, provides me with quarters of me own. Ye see, me poor parents had leased a large sum a’ money from her in order ta buy food, a place ta live, and a means ta survive. Jest last year, they died in an accident, and now I’m stuck here, with a seven-year contract ta yer aunt ta pay it off. It’s that simple. What’s worse, yer aunt hardly gives me any time for meself; nor does she take ta the few friends I’ve got. Believe ye me, I’d be more than happy ta leave, but I jest can’t do it.

Why not, Katie asked. In all honesty, she has more than abused the right to hold you to your word. I have seen the way she slaves you. You have no obligation to her if she treats you so cruelly.

Believe me, I would leave if I could, Margaret interrupted. But, yer aunt has quite a bit a’ influence in these upper classes. If I was ta try somethin’ like that, she’d certainly ’ave me evicted fer not paying what I owe her. I’d rather spend the next six years living in this nice castle with a place ta sleep and food ta eat then in a prison, arrested fer stealing. Besides, I would be a’goin’ back on me word to yer aunt, and it’d be disgracing ta me parents’ name. Still, Margaret added, almost at a whisper, it would be kinda nice to be able to do the things I want ta do, and be with the people I want ta be with. Margaret let her thoughts trail off. As the maid fell silent, Katie noticed her hand playing with something in her apron pocket.

What’s that? Katie asked, as the maid quickly pulled her hand out.

Oh, its nothin’, she said quickly. Jest an old keepsake from a friend.

What is it? Katie asked. Can’t you tell me?

Forgive me fer saying, Miss, the maid stammered, but if yer aunt were ta find out, I’d be in such trouble. Yer aunt forbade it, and…

Forbade what? Katie said anxiously. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her and nothing save the truth would satisfy her now.

Thomas Blake and I, Margaret answered quietly, we… well, . . . we were quite close, but yer aunt forbade it so there’s no point in bringin’ up the subject.

So, what’s in your pocket, Katie asked.

A ring, Margaret said quickly. I sewed it ta the inside a’ me pocket so’s not ta lose it.

A ring! Katie exclaimed, You mean, an engagement ring?

Yes, but yer aunt said no, Margaret said sadly, stopping halfway down the hall to face Katie. I tried ta tell him, but he kept persistin’. Finally, I consented ta keepin’ the ring cause he wouldn’t settle fer anything else. Hopefully, after these next six years have passed and I’m free a’ this contract, we’ll finally be able ta settle down, if he’ll still have me after all that time.

How tragic! Katie sighed. I do hope your dream comes true for you, Margaret.

Thank ye, Miss, the maid concluded. But it don’t look like it’ll be a’ doin’ that any time soon.

Well, who knows, Katie said cheerfully. Grasping Margaret by the hand, Katie flew off on a tangent. Picture it, she said dramatically. It’s late at night, and he comes to your window, calling out to you. In a romantic wave of expression, he climbs up to the window and sweeps you off your feet. As Katie spun around, bringing the maid with her, Margaret burst out laughing. Suddenly, Katie stopped. Then he’ll carry you off into the moonlight, far away from this place… from her! Hearing the tone in Katie’s voice, Margaret smiled, patting her back.

Cum dear, Margaret comforted, Let’s not go a’ changing the subject, now shall we. You’ll be jest fine, you’ll see.

Sighing to herself, Margaret led Katie back out the door of the foyer. For the next few minutes, they walked on in silence. Margaret led Katie up what seemed to be an endless flight of stairs. Once they reached the top, Margaret led the way past many rooms. They walked down a few more corridors before the maid stopped and turned to open a door on the far side.

This is yer room, Miss, Margaret said, gesturing to the door. Inside was the most beautiful room Katie had ever seen. The bed cushions were a beautiful sky blue colour, and the walls were of refurbished stone. An elaborate dresser and mirror stood against the wall, with a bookshelf opposite it. One of the walls was decorated with a beautiful painting of a young medieval maiden. In the corner of the room sat the three, worn bags that were all Katie had owned in the world. The girl caught her breath.

Wow! she said jumping up onto the Queen sized bed. This thing is huge! And I thought my old bed was big. I guess this is the way rich people live back in England.

I’m glad it’s to yer likin’, Miss, Margaret said as she organized some clothes in the drawer. I’m not sure yer aunt would take ta whatever clothes ye’ve got in those old bags.

Probably not, Katie replied. I’m not getting rid of them though. They remind me of home. I’ll just hide them somewhere where she won’t find them. Besides, there aren’t that many in there anyway.

Well, the maid began, moving away from the dresser to gesture around the room, The window looks out onto the yard, and there’s a closet yonder for ye to put yer things.

Thanks for everything, Margaret, Katie said, jumping off the bed. You’re the first friend I’ve had here. It’s just…

What Miss? the maid asked.

Oh, Katie replied. I just hope that you won’t be my only friend."

I’m sure I won’t be. You’re an attractive young lady, if I do say so meself. I’m sure it won’t be long ’till you’ll catch the eye a’ some young lad here abouts.

You flatter me, Margaret, Katie said.

Oh, ye never know, Margaret replied with a twinkle in her eye. There’s quite a number a strapping young boys around. Ye just gotta keep them eyes and ears a yorn open. I’m sure you’ll find a friend ta suit yer needs soon enough. As Margaret finished placing the final touches in Katie’s room, she looked out the window. Well it be gettin’ late, Margaret said, glancing out at the many stars outside. A good night to ye.

Good night, Margaret, answered Katie. Oh, and wait. You can call me Katie.

Oh I’d better not Miss, the maid said. Mistress Vanessa would be horrified if she caught me a’ doin’ such a thing.

It’s all right, said Katie. I won’t tell her. Besides I don’t like being called Catherine. It sounds sorta… well, stuffy I guess.

All right, Miss Katie, stammered the maid. If ye really want me to. Feeling somewhat relieved, Margaret added, I’ll call ye Katie if you’ll call me Maggie. That’s what me parents used ta call me. The Misses just spruced it up. Ta tell ye the honest truth, I can’t abide me name lookin’ like that, all primped up. It don’t fit me at all, if ye get me meanin’.

Okay, said Katie. Maggie, she said aloud to herself. It’s very Irish and quite pretty. My aunt had no business in changing it. Besides, what are friends for? When the maid did not respond, Katie turned around and smiled. "Goodnight, Maggie."

"Good night, Katie," the maid answered, closing the door.

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Back in the foyer, Vanessa had completed her research and was closing the door to the library when Maggie walked down the staircase. I’ve shown Miss Catherine ta her room, Mum, the maid said. She’ll be asleep shortly.

Good, Vanessa replied. Make sure she is. I do not agree with allowing children to remain awake passed their bed time.

Pardon me, Mum, Maggie cut in. But, there’s not much child left in her, if it’s not too bold ta say. In fact, I might add that she’s near old enough ta have some a’ the responsibilities fittin’ fer a young lady. I think that the process might be helped a wee bit if she were given some tasks ta accomplish.

And you should remember your place, Margaret, said Vanessa, sharply. After a moment’s pause, she added, What would you know anyway about raising a child?

Well, Maggie said, attempting a quick curtsy. She might adjust to yer ways quicker if she felt more at home, ye know, accepted. I thought to meself, Maggie added, since she’s just cum from a farm, perhaps she’d feel a wee bit more at home if she could have one a’ them horses out back as a pet.

No, Vanessa said strictly. That’s out of the question. She would fall back into the behavior she was accustomed to in America. She must realize that she is no longer on a farm in Colorado.

Yes, Maggie agreed. And the best way a’ doin’ that would be ta face the problem head on. Think about it. Ye can’t hide that stable out back from her forever. Sooner or later, she’s going ta find those animals, and when she does, nothin’ ye say or do is going ta stop her from bein’ with ’em. Rather than lettin’ her fall back inta her old way of behavin’, give her one a’ them horses on purpose. That way, ye can tutor her in the right way ta behave around such creatures and correct any bad, unladylike behavior she’s acquired. Besides, what would happen if other folks got wind of it? A rich orphan livin’ in a castle who’s not allowed ta possess her own horse isn’t a very pleasurable tale, me lady, if ye take me meaning.

It is quite clear, Margaret, Vanessa said, coldly. I have a very bad feeling about your suggestion; in fact, I don’t think I like it one bit. Maggie hung her head slightly, and Vanessa continued. However, your logic is sound. Very well, Catherine shall own one of the horses, just one, mind you! I will not have a spoiled brat on my hands. And, I will not have just any old nag. You must select the best creature in the stables, not that she deserves it. But I will not have the other women of this community thinking that I would give my niece just any animal. Be sure it is well trained and possesses good manners. Catherine shall be taught the proper way for a young lady to ride, care for and behave around horses. In so doing, I shall obliterate any improper behavior she would otherwise have acquired. If this plan of yours fails, I will not hesitate to dispose of the animal. Turning to Maggie, Vanessa concluded, I have allowed you to speak freely on this matter. Do not misuse that privilege by doing so of your own accord.

Yes, Mum, Maggie replied, curtsying to her mistress.

Very well, said Vanessa. I will retire. Be sure to check all the doors on the premises and make sure they are locked for the night.

Yes, me lady, Maggie answered, walking towards the servant’s quarters. Then I’ll have a wee talk with the stable boy.

While Vanessa and Maggie were talking, Katie had taken the liberty to investigate every corner of her new room and rearranging her belongings. Satisfied, she changed into her new silken nightgown, which had been lying on the chair. After she finished changing, she knelt down to say her prayers. At the end she tacked on a special message to her parents.

Good night, Mama. Good night, Papa. I miss you, but I’ll try my best to obey Aunt Vanessa and to learn to accept this place as my new home. I promise. Amen. At the thought of her parents, a lump rose in Katie’s throat. She swallowed hard and clutched her crucifix. Almost immediately, she felt calmer and less afraid. Making the Sign of the Cross with it, she jumped into bed. However, just before she drifted off to sleep, Katie said to herself, I wonder what adventures await tomorrow. After all, in a place like this, anything can happen.

Chapter 2

Rising Conflict

T he next day, Katie woke up to a rough morning. After having come down late for breakfast, her aunt had commanded her to begin her studies on an empty stomach. Having finally finished, she collapsed on a couch in the lounge, completely exhausted. Phew! she said, wiping her forehead, I’m glad that’s over! Now I have two whole hours all to myself. Sitting back up on the couch, she readjusted the pin on her bodice. In order to impress her aunt, Katie had put on one of the more stylish gowns in her closet and done her hair up in a fancy bun. Shifting uncomfortably, Katie was regretting her decision. I think I’ll take a hike around the grounds, she thought, trying to distract her mind from her clothes and her hunger, "It’s time I familiarized myself with the outside of this place. I’m so sick of being cooped up inside. Having made up her mind, Katie walked out the back door and into the yard. The minute the sunlight hit her face, she stretched in contentment. Glancing upward at the stone sides of Conner Castle, Katie smiled. It’s so funny, she said, that a place so rich with Irish culture on the outside could look so British on the inside." Stepping away from the castle, Katie allowed herself to wander around the many paths in the yard.

Suddenly, she noticed a familiar sound coming from somewhere behind the castle. It was so faint that Katie could barely make it out. There it was again. No, it can’t be! she said to herself. Aunt Vanessa wouldn’t… Perplexed, Katie began to walk toward the sound. As she walked, Katie discovered a small garden path that wound towards a little brook. After crossing over the small bridge, Katie followed the little path around an old stonewall. Another dirt path, somewhat larger than the first, led up to a building far down the road. Hearing the whinnying sound a third time caused Katie to burst into a run. When she reached the end of the path, she knew she’d been right. Horses! she exclaimed. There are so many of them! Slowing to a walk, Katie went up to one of the pastures. Ignoring the fact that she shouldn’t dirty her new dress, she hopped up onto the railing. The sight made her mouth drop. Katie had never seen so many horses in one place. They were all galloping around the field kicking, rolling and playing with one another. Katie was mesmerized. The sight of horses galloping across an open field, neighing shrilly with their manes and tails flying, had always fascinated her.

So, said a voice somewhere behind Katie, You must be the niece ’a the misses. What’s yer name? Startled, Katie turned her head and saw a teenage boy about her age standing behind her. His hair, though once brown, was a dark blonde, bleached by many hours of work in the sun. He had a pronounced jawbone and blue, deep-set eyes. His attire consisted of an old, worn shirt and a simple pair of trousers. He was carrying a halter. As Katie gazed at this boy with his tan complexion and good-natured grin, she smiled.

I’m Catherine, Katie said. At least, that’s what my aunt calls me. I’d prefer it if you called me Katie. Everyone else does.

Sure, the boy answered, adjusting one of his suspenders at the shoulder. I’m Michael, glancing at his torn clothes, he added, self-consciously, Uh, I’m the stable boy. So, ya like horses?

Oh, yes! exclaimed Katie. I love them. My Mama, Papa and I used to own a few.

Really, said Michael, hanging the halter on the fence and picking up a pitchfork. It’s not every day I get ta meeting someone who actually likes ’em alot. You see, yer aunt don’t take much of a’ liken to them critters.

That’s strange. Katie said, taken slightly aback by the boy’s accent. Curiously, Michael glanced at her from under his locks. Retaining her seat on the fence, Katie was leaning back against one of the birch trees that grew right alongside it. A gentle breeze began rustling through the trees, blowing the ends of Katie’s dress as it passed. Growing tired of her bun, Katie loosened it until her long thick hair fell loosely to her waist. Michael laid aside his pitchfork. Maggie had told him of the upcoming arrival of Vanessa’s niece. Not knowing where she came from or why, Michael assumed Katie would be like any average girl in her position, knowing nothing but riches. Deep down, he had been disappointed that he might not get to know Katie. However, watching her for a few more seconds, Michael was surprised to see that, despite her fancy attire, Vanessa’s niece seemed to fit in perfectly with nature. Sensing the awkward silence, Michael glanced downward. However, his mouth soon loosened into a crooked smile as he noticed the brooch. Having been hastily pinned, the ornament had unclasped and now lay on the ground, unnoticed by its owner. Hesitantly, Michael walked over to it and picked up the brooch. Climbing up on the fence beside Katie, the stable boy wielded the brooch and clumsily handed it back to Katie.

Here, he said, touching the brooch to Katie’s arm. Ya dropped this.

Oh, thank you, Katie answered, pausing in her contemplation. Taking the brooch from him, Katie stated, It doesn’t clasp on very well. Maybe I’m just not doing it right. Oh well! My aunt likes stuff like this, so I guess I’d better wear it. As Katie attempted to clasp the brooch back onto her bodice, Michael thought that he should strike up a conversation. The trouble was he didn’t know what to say, nor could he remember their previous conversation. Twiddling his thumbs nervously, Michael’s head raced, trying to remember the last thing Katie had said. It came to him.

Taking up a casual position, he said, So, what’s so strange about it? Katie looked at him confused.

So strange about what? she asked. Michael grimaced.

Nice, he thought to himself. Wiping the sweat from his face, Michael feigned indifference. Ya know, he said. You’d said that it was kinda strange that yer aunt didn’t take much of a liken’ to the horses. I was jest curious to know why. I thought by now you’d a’ noticed that she isn’t really the type.

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Oh right, Katie said. Well, I simply think it’s strange that she doesn’t like them because she keeps so many. I thought maybe she’d had some childhood fancy or something. At least that would explain it. Katie paused a moment, gazing back at the herd. If Aunt Vanessa doesn’t like horses, why does she keep so many?

Well, Michael said, chuckling. I guess there’s three reasons. First of all, he said, leaping off the fence and grabbing the pitch fork, It would look kinda stupid ta own a big place like this out here in the country if you don’t got any horses. Secondly, lots a ‘folks out here own at least a dozen or so. Knowing yer aunt, she probably wants to appear as impressive as she possibly kin. And she’s succeeded at it, too. She’s the most popular person out here, not to mention the richest. Nothin’ looks more fancy to these folks than a big ol’ castle, a fifty stall barn, and at least that many horses galloping around the fields.

I see what you mean, said Katie.

Yep, Michael replied, walking up to a stack of three hay bales near the fence.

After Michael had finished cutting the ties that wrapped them, Katie asked, So what’s the third reason?

Michael laughed, rubbing his hand through his thick hair. It wouldn’t be fittin’ to say, seeing as you’re her niece and all. Grasping a number of hay flakes with his pitchfork, Michael began flinging them over the fence, as far as he could into the pasture. After placing a few flakes, he moved a little bit further down the fence and then flung again. In so doing, he placed the hay mounds far enough apart in order to keep the horses from quarreling over their food. Hearing the rustling of their food, many of the horses nickered and began to make their way over to the fence.

What? Katie asked, desperate to know the reason for Michael’s secretive behavior. Is it really that disrespectful.

Well, Michael chuckled, not pausing in his food delivery. I guess she don’t want to pull her carriage into town on her own. Katie joined in with his laughter. When he saw Katie’s reaction, Michael added, As much as we’d love ta see the old bat try. That statement brought more peals of laughter. Katie had taken enough time to envision Michael’s suggestion, and the prospect seemed too hilariously funny. As Michael continued his work, many of the horses began to gather near the fence, attracted by the hay. Well, that’s the last pasture, Michael said. Placing aside the pitch fork, he jumped over the fence and into the pasture. I’ve already fed the horses in the other two pastures, he explained, so, that’s about it for my chores. Katie watched as Michael walked up to one of the horses. Stroking it’s bay coat, he bent down to rub its foreleg. How’s that leg a yorn doin’, old boy? he said quietly. The others been treatin’ ya nicely? After a few moments of silence, Katie spoke out.

So, she said, heaving a sigh. What’s your story?

Michael stared. My story? he asked questioningly. I don’t got one.

Oh, don’t be silly. Katie said, Everyone’s got a story. Like, how did you come to work here, for instance.

Oh that, Michael said, pulling himself back up onto the fence near Katie. It’s not all that interestin’. I mean, it’s all about me.

That’s why I want to hear it, Katie said, and Michael smiled. Tell it to me. I want to learn all about you. Michael stared at her and shook his head.

You sure have some strange ideas a’ passin’ the time, he said. If yer aunt was ta catch me, I’d be in real hot water. I’m not supposed ta be talkin’ so casual with ya.

Oh, Katie said. Alright, in that case, I’ll start. Then I’ll be the one ‘gabbin’’ and not you. Clearing her throat, she began. My full name is Katie Sullivan, and I left my home in Colorado to live here with my aunt. I grew up on a farm with my parents. A smile began to creep up Michael’s face, as he began to see his dream come true before his very eyes.

No way, he said. Yer from a farm too? I never woulda gest it.

Yep, Katie replied. So, you see, we aren’t that different after all.

Glancing back at Katie, Michael asked, Well, if ya got folks in Colorado, why did ya move here? Katie grew tense.

Well, she said haltingly. I used to live on a farm; at least, that’s where I spent the majority of my childhood. Breathing deeply, Katie continued rather quickly. My parents died when I was ten, and the court sent me to the nearest orphanage. Having finally gotten the dreaded words out, Katie found the following silence even more difficult to bear. Sighing quietly, she hung her head slightly. Michael’s smile fell, and it was replaced by an extremely serious expression. After a moment’s silence, he spoke.

You mean you’re a… Seeing Katie’s stricken face turned towards him, Michael curbed his tongue right before the fateful word came out. Stammering a little, he added. Um, sorry. I didn’t mean ta…

No it’s alright, Katie said, sadly. Katie felt a strange pain in her throat from the tears she was attempting to hold back. Sniffling, she played with the lace on her sleeves.

I’m right sorry for ya, Michael replied quietly. Do ya think… well, what were yer parents’ names? Swallowing hard, Katie regained her composure.

Darby and Stephanie Sullivan, she replied. My Mother’s maiden name was Morace. And with that, Katie began her story.

Both Stephanie and her older sister, Vanessa, were born British. Since the Morace family was very rich, Vanessa decided that she and Stephanie should broaden their cultural spheres by implanting their family’s roots in a different land. Following one of the strongest immigrant waves from Britain at the time, both Stephanie and Vanessa had taken one of the boats, headed towards Ireland. Vanessa had told Stephanie that she considered it a chance to bring order and sophistication to a savage and uncultured land. Upon reaching Wicklow, Vanessa had set out immediately to find a suitable home, while Stephanie explored the Irish countryside. After having wandered for quite some time, she completely lost her bearings on the many winding paths and rolling hills. It was there that she met Darby Sullivan, a simple farmer who had offered to lead her back to the city. Due to his charitable nature, Stephanie felt that she should offer him a token of thanks for his help. Darby had replied simply that his only wish was to be honoured with the chance of seeing the ‘lovely foreign lass’ again. Despite Vanessa’s apparent disapproval, Stephanie consented. The Morace’s had then bought land a few miles from Wicklow (land which Katie had only recently discovered to be Conner Castle) and made it their home. As the years went by, Stephanie and Darby grew to be good friends. However, Darby had been strangely determined to keep their friendship from blossoming into anything more. He knew that Stephanie was an Anglican, and being Catholic himself, he hadn’t wished to marry outside of his faith. Despite Darby’s efforts, love, as it so often does, caught them unawares, and Mr. Sullivan soon found himself facing a difficult decision. Seeing clearly into his heart and sensing his affection, Stephanie wondered at Darby’s hesitation to propose. Completely at a loss, Darby simply told her the situation straight and blunt. Stephanie, at first, was greatly relieved that his uncertainty was not the result of anything she had said or done. However, she was troubled by his petition for her to come into full communion with the Catholic Faith. At first, she had refused to even consider leaving her faith; however, as Darby subtlety allowed her to make some discoveries about his faith, Stephanie soon found herself admiring it. After months of research and discernment, Stephanie was won over to the Catholic Faith by the example of Darby. Not long after she embraced the Catholic Faith, Stephanie accepted Darby’s proposal of marriage. Everything had seemed so wonderful, until Vanessa heard the news of her sister’s conversion and elopement. Vanessa was furious. Never in the family’s history had any Morace left the faith in order to marry someone outside of it. In her anger, Vanessa enforced her authority as the elder daughter and cut Stephanie off from any of the Morace rights and wills, taking all the family fortune for herself. Despite Stephanie’s change in fortune, Darby welcomed her even more eagerly into his embrace. For the first year, their lives were like a honeymoon. They shared all the household work, such as tending the farm and keeping the house. However, by the beginning of their second married year, Darby began to grow anxious. His crop had not been nearly as successful, and they were pinching every coin. He soon realized that his current meager income would be unable to adequately meet all their needs. After talking the situation over with Stephanie, they came to the conclusion that they would begin their life elsewhere. Having heard of the flourishing new land that lay west, Darby and Stephanie knew that America would be the perfect place to start a family. Saving every last penny, the Sullivans were able to scrape enough together to send Darby to the New World. Knowing that once he had earned enough money, he would send for her, Stephanie waved goodbye to her husband as he stepped onto the ship. After some time, Darby was successful, and soon, the couple was settled safely on the eastern shores of America. Hitching a ride with a fairly cheap caravan, Darby and Stephanie headed out west. From Darby’s hard earned savings, they were able to purchase a small plot of land in Colorado, which they were fortunate enough to reach with little mishap. With Darby’s farming skills and Stephanie’s prayers and support, the Sullivans began work on a new life. It was into this joyful family that Katie Sullivan was born.

That was the only life I ever knew, Katie said, a simple life on an American farm.

So, what happened, Michael asked, anxious to hear the end of the story. Seeing Katie’s smile fall, Michael concluded, Although, if ya’d rather not talk about it, ya needn’t feel obliged.

No, it’s alright, Katie replied. I have to tell someone. Katie took a deep breath and continued. It was an epidemic. Dad caught it first, and although we tried everything, he… he kept going downhill. He’d start burning up one minute and then be reduced to chills the next. Then after he… Katie trembled slightly. Clearing her throat, she continued, After it was all over, Mom caught it. I guess because Dad was gone, it didn’t take much to… Katie couldn’t go any farther. Suddenly she burst out. "And now I’m all alone with her, and she’s positively horrid, and I don’t know how I can live another day with her! Other than the maid, I don’t have any friends and… and I feel so alone." Katie fell silent, and for a few moments, Michael did not know what to say. Feeling awkward, Katie turned away from him. Uncertain what else he could do, Michael reached out and patted her hand.

I know I’m just the stable boy, but, Michael shrugged his shoulders and continued. You did say you’d be my friend, remember? I don’t know what help I could be ta ya, but I jest want ya ta know, that ya got a friend here if ever’s ya need one.

When the sniffling stopped, Michael knew he’d hit a home run.

Wiping away the evidence, Katie turned back toward Michael. Attempting to sound cheerful, she said, Of course, I’m sorry I was being so selfish, she said. I’m not prejudice as to who you are or what you look like. Like I said, I grew up on a farm too, just like you. Michael smiled.

Well, not really, he said, attempting to cheer her up. I can tell by the way ya talk and act that yer Ma was a right good teacher, and that she didn’t hesitate ta learn ya all she knew ’bout school and grammar and the like. Katie scoffed.

Try telling that to Aunt Vanessa. She thinks I’m an uncivilized savage.

But yer not, Michael said, assertively. Yer the prettiest and smartest person I ever did know, and I bet ya learned it all from yer Ma. Katie turned away and Michael blushed at his own words. In an attempt to make her laugh, he added, "Now, my Ma, well, she never did get a whole lot a learnin’