See Me

CHAPTER NINETEEN

AFTER MY WALK WITH Dad, McKale still hadn’t returned to the village for the night. Cassidy and I retired to our room early. I scouted it for nasty little Fae spies, but the room was clean and we felt safe enough to get in bed. We’d hardly gotten any rest the past few days, and after a couple hours of lying there talking, sleepiness took its toll, pulling us both under.

With the feathery down surrounding my head, the first notes of distant music were almost indistinguishable. I lifted my heavy head from the pillow, listening. There it was again: a faint, woeful tune ringing like a soft wail from the strings of a violin.

I bolted out of the bed and ran from the room. The music beckoned me, its song of sorrow matching the song of my own heart this night. It was an audible version of all my emotions. As I chased the source of the invisible grieving, my feet took me straight toward McKale’s bungalow where I halted.

The pixie was sitting on McKale’s doorstep, hands behind his little head. Its wicked smile revealed tiny razor teeth when it caught sight of me. I stepped back, right into Cassidy who was breathing hard. She grasped my upper arms and held me close to her. We stood there together saying nothing as the evil creature eyed us and the slow cry of low musical notes filled the air.

McKale’s song had captured my heart, urging me to him, and yet, because of this creature I couldn’t see him.

I looked up at a motion in my peripheral vision. It was Leilah, standing next to her boyfriend with a hand on her heart. A trickle of others began to join her, drawn to the power of the song. Mom was there, holding her robe closed with Dad at her side. As clan members drifted into the spaces between bungalows, I felt the power of their support. Our numbers were great in comparison to one small pixie. Revived, I lost all fear for the creature on McKale’s doorstep. I stared at it and took a step forward.

“Be careful,” Cassidy whispered, sensing my intentions, but she dropped her hands from my arms.

I went forward and stopped a few feet from its beady-eyed stare as it raised itself up to face me like a giant, fat, green bumblebee. “Let me pass.”

I was prepared for his attack this time, so when he darted up I swatted, my hand connecting to its squishy belly. But only for a second before he disappeared with a poof and reappeared on my other side, yanking my ear with his claws. The clan was on him before I had a chance to feel pain from his scratches. It was too much for the unsuspecting pixie. He tried to sift away, only to be grasped, punched, kicked, and smacked by another person wherever he reappeared. Leprechauns cried out in urgent voices about the “gloves and cage,” while little women screamed and skittered out of the way.

A bearded man ran out with crazy-looking gloves that appeared to be woven with thin metal. It took a moment before I realized it was Brogan without his hat. He was fearsome in his focused state, and he moved quicker than I thought possible. Behind him ran two of the Chaun holding a small, iron cage. One of the guys thunked the pixie hard from behind with his fist, dazing it. The pixie let out a hideous snarl when Brogan snatched it mid-air and the gloves wrapped around it. Brogan tossed the creature into the cage and someone slammed the door shut, locking it securely. We all cheered. Cassidy and I high-fived each other, laughing. Mom and Dad hugged us.

Brogan walked over, slightly out of breath. He pulled off the gloves and held them up for our inspection.

“Iron,” he said. “Makes ‘em ill—depletes the magic in their skin.”

Brogan nodded toward the cage where the pixie now huddled, shivering and growling in the center. “We’ll return the little sod to ‘is people on the morrow.” And with that, someone whisked it away.

Cassidy nudged me and nodded to the side with big eyes.

I followed her stare to find McKale standing in his doorway watching me, uncertain.

“Kale!” I ran, bumping people and knocking McKale back as I flung my arms around his neck. He was a rumpled mess from his time with the Clourichaun.

“Robyn,” he whispered into my hair. His arms tightened around me.

“I didn’t mean I was choosing for you to go,” I said.

“I know it. I knew it then, but I couldn’t let her think there was any way we’d let her have yer sister.”

I pulled back enough to look at him. “Thank you. You bought us time.”

He cupped my face in both his hands and examined my face with tender urgency. His eyes told me he hadn’t given Khalistah the kind of kiss she desired. If he had, he would still be dazed and unable to focus on me in this way.

Someone cleared their throat, causing McKale and I to remember we had a full audience of worried people. We broke away and opted for holding hands as Brogan stepped forward.

“We found McKale coming back to the village,” he explained to me. “He’d rid himself of the pixie fer a time while it ran after some grub, so we told ‘im the plan.”

McKale’s thumb stroked the top of my hand. “I was coming yer way to see ya when the blasted pixie came back, so I went to me own room to be safe.”

We were all quiet.

“Keefe,” Brogan said, running a hand down his beard.

The young man stepped up and removed the beret from his head.

“I want someone watching the portal all night. Ye lads can take shifts. Tell ‘em to keep the horn handy and sound it if the gate opens.”

“Aye, Brogan.” Keefe gave a small bow and ran to do his duty.

“Brogan, sir, if I may…” Leilah stepped forward and gave a timid curtsey.

“Aye, lassie?”

“’Tis no’ the tradition, I know, but…” Even in the dark of night I sensed the flush of embarrassment on her features. She stared at the ground and Brogan urged her to continue.

Leilah lifted her head and asked, “Might McKale and Robyn bind this very evening? The official ceremony on the morrow could still take place fer show.”

Murmurs rose around us.

McKale and I looked at each other. Brogan ran a hand down his beard, unsure.

Mom stepped forward. “It’s a good idea. If they want to, I say let them bind. Let them have this night.”

She didn’t have to say “just in case” because we were all thinking it. The thought of what might happen tomorrow if our plan failed made my stomach seize. This could be our last night together: our only night. Brogan looked at my father, who nodded his agreement. I smiled at McKale as a fluttery nervousness settle inside.

“Aye?” he whispered to me.

“Yes,” I whispered back.

He gave me a half-grin and nodded before turning to Brogan.

“We wish to bind this night, Father.”

“Aye. Well, then.” Brogan nodded to Leilah. “Fetch the bindings. McKale, straighten yer room, son. ‘Tis no’ fit fer a female in that state of disaster.”

My cheeks flamed. Everyone cheered as Leilah ran off and a group of older women descended upon McKale’s room, bustling past him and clucking about the mess. He gave them a sheepish shrug and grin as the oldest woman swatted his backside then shut the door on us.

A sudden thought hit me and I thought aloud, “What about my dress?” My current outfit was a t-shirt and cotton shorts. I wasn’t even wearing a bra! I crossed my arms.

“You’ll wear the dress tomorrow for the fake binding,” Cassidy said. “You don’t need it tonight.” She dug an elbow into my ribs and I met her glinting eye.

Oh my goodness… I’m gonna pass out. I couldn’t even look at my parents, even though I knew they hadn’t heard Cass’s remark.

Cass giggled and wrapped an arm around my waist. “It’ll be fine,” she whispered.

Leilah returned with a woven basket full of colorful silken scraps. I pressed my free hand to my nervous stomach as the women began to untangle the mass of material.

Mom sidled close to my side. “Are you okay with this?”

I nodded. Dad cleared his throat behind us.

“Nothing like an impromptu wedding,” he said under his breath. I turned to see him rubbing his neck.

Mom wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. “Our babies are growing up, Leon.” They both gazed at me, eyes full of sentiment, and Cass squeezed my hand.

Things got a little crazy when McKale and the women emerged from his hut. It didn’t take long to realize this was a “hands-on” kind of ceremony. McKale and I were pushed by excited hands to the middle of the group where a small opening had been made. Mom and Cassidy followed us while Dad hung back with the other men. A fiddler and flautist had retrieved their instruments and began to play soft, sweet music. Love ballads.

There was no big announcement. No gown or flowers. Just McKale and I in our pajamas with messy hair. We were moved into position, facing one another. Led by Leilah, my mom and sister took a long strand of purple cloth and wrapped it around our waists, forcing our abdomens together as they tied a tight knot. I giggled up at McKale’s wistful face when the oldest woman insisted, “Tighter!” I’d always thought the term “binding” was metaphorical.

One by one, women of the clan stepped up to take part. Strip after colored strip was tied around us, from our hips to our chests, pressing us together. Knowing what this symbolized, it was hard not to be embarrassed. But that feeling fled when I looked at my betrothed. My Kale, who’d turned out to be even more than I’d hoped. His eyes glistened with happiness in the moonlight.

When it came time for the father part, Mom waved to Dad, who followed Brogan’s lead. Dad cleared his throat several times, evidently not at ease with the marital mummification of his daughter, but he played along.

Dad and Brogan each had two white strips of cloth. Brogan bent down and moved our feet so that our ankles were side-by-side. There was a bad moment where I thought we might topple over, but each time we tilted the crowd would push us back into place, saying “Whoa!” in unison and laughing with merriment. Dad and Brogan tied our ankles, and then stood up and tied our wrists. I watched McKale’s stoic face the whole time. When they finished I pressed my cheek to McKale’s and tried to breathe evenly. My parents stepped back. Cassidy stood in my sights and winked.

The song ended and the area quieted with anticipation.

Brogan spoke with hearty volume. “We come together this eve to bind the lives and bodies of our Leprechaun, McKale, with Robyn of the Masons!”

“Here, here!” shouted the crowd. The reverence and excitement in the air gave me chills.

“We wish them blessings and fertility,” Brogan said.

“Here, here!”

Brogan then spoke something beautiful in Gaelic and the people responded in kind. It sounded magical and I experienced another set of goose bumps.

“We’re gettin’ the short version,” McKale whispered in my ear.

The Leprechauns and women chanted lines in Gaelic, and it produced the sort of mesmerizing sound that was probably meant to stir my ovaries into action or something. And then an ominous silence fell.

“Brace yerself,” McKale whispered.

“To the lodgings!” Brogan shouted, punching his little round fist in the air.

“To the lodgings!”

I yelped with surprise as we were swept off our feet sideways with a falling sensation and carried by dozens of hands into McKale’s room amid shouts and cheers. We were both laughing as they rolled us onto his bed and bowed low before leaving. We lay there in a literal tangle with me on top of him, listening to their happy chants get quieter and quieter until everyone was gone.

“Um, wow,” I said. “So…” Now what? My pulse danced wildly.

They’d wrapped our torsos and legs, but left our arms free except the wrists. My breath caught as McKale brought the wrists of one set of our hands up to his mouth. The gas lamp in his room was lit on low, and I watched in wonder as he bit the end of the neat bow with his teeth and pulled it until our hands were free. He did the same with the other wrists. Then he captured both of my wrists and kissed them.

I sighed, too overcome and nervous to say anything.

“Thank ye fer coming to me tonight,” he said in a low voice.

“How could I not? That song… They beat up the pixie for me! Did you see that?” Okay, I was feeling a little nervous, and I think McKale could tell because he chuckled and looked at me like he thought it was cute.

“How did you do it?” I blurted. I had to know, before we went any further, what happened last night with FFG. “How’d you get away with not kissing her?”

McKale’s eyebrows came together and he was quiet a moment. “I did not get away with anything, love. I don’ wish to recall a single moment of it, but ye should know. I hope ye can forgive me.”

“You kissed her?” He nodded once. His eyes were strained. “Really kiss her?” Another nod.

Jealousy reared, but I didn’t feel angry at McKale. I knew he did what he had to do to get the FFG to believe him and go back to the portal. But the thought of his mouth on hers… I buried my face in his neck, trembling. “How is your mind so clear after that?”

“’Twas strange, it was,” he whispered. “I thought only of you. I kept ye at the front of my mind, noticin’ how fragile she felt compared to your strength. I imagined ye stealing the ball from the lads, and wrestlin’ me in the waters. As her magic o’ercame me, the focus of my passion was no’ her. It was hard, I’ll no’ lie. And I was no’ completely meself when I stumbled to the Clour land.”

Amazing. I lifted my head and looked at him. “Do you think the plan will work tomorrow?”

His face became grave. “It must. Let’s no’ think on it anymore this night.” He kissed me with tenderness and I put aside my fears. We had this night, if nothing else.

Together we untied each knot at our sides, making a neat pile of cloth bindings on the floor beside his bed. By the time he pulled the last strip from our thighs my heart was pumping rapidly. We were both sitting up. I almost made a move to untie our ankles, but I waited, remembering how he’d taken the initiative with our wrists like it was his job. Sure enough, he bent at the waist, undoing our last two bindings with graceful, gentle fingers.

He dropped the scraps of cloth on the floor and came right at me, slowly, never hesitating.

“Kale,” I breathed.

“Aye.” He was laying me back and I was breathing too fast.

“If I would’ve known we were binding tonight I would have cleaned up for you.” And shaved, and worn the pretty bra and panty set I’d picked out in hopes of a happy binding night. But McKale only laughed and pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to the corner. I swallowed.

“Ye can be certain, Robyn, I’ll not be complainin’ about the state of ya.”

And then he kissed me without an ounce of tentativeness, like a man claiming what was his. A barbaric analogy, maybe, but in my heightened state of nervous expectancy, it felt crazy good to be claimed. My hands were all over him. Well, not all over yet, but all over his bared skin. I loved the way his lean biceps and triceps bulged as he held himself over me.

“You are so hot,” I whispered onto his lips.

He pulled back. “Are ye too hot?”

I laughed and reached for him. “It’s just a figure of speech. I meant that you’re really… good looking. Come here.”

He kissed me again, but this time his hand found the bottom of my t-shirt. His touch, unlike his kiss, was tentative. My insides fluttered as his hand inched upwards, caressing my stomach and waist. I was insanely nervous about what he would think.

“Yer so soft,” he said. He kissed me again and moved his hand up a little more. “Is this all right with ye?”

“Yeah. It feels good when you touch me.” It was strange to hear myself say that, but the grim reminder that we might only have this night kept me from holding back. We had no time to be shy. I wanted to show him how I felt.

When his thumb brushed the underside of my breast, it was on.

I wiggled and tugged my shirt over my head, tossing it aside and propping myself up on my elbows as if presenting him a gift. I watched as his expression changed from the amazement of a boy to the need of a man. A sound of triumph rose from my throat as he pressed me back with a deep kiss, and the exploration of one another began. We took our time learning each other’s skin, the sensitive spots, savoring each pleasurable response that our touches elicited. We refused to be rushed, not caring if we didn’t sleep at all that night.

And we didn’t.

When the sun dawned on the wide Irish sky, a crackle of magic split the air and a horn sounded. We jumped from the bed, stumbling for our clothes and laughing. Yes, laughing. The blasting horn should have scared us, but we were giddy in our newfound selves—our bound selves—not yet willing to let go of that exquisite feeling. With a parting kiss I ran for the door, only to be gently tugged back. He took my chin so I couldn’t look anywhere but in his eyes.

“I love ye, Robyn of the Leprechaun.”

It was his first time saying it. Moisture sprung to my eyes.

“I love you, too, Kale of the Chaun.”

He grinned and let me go.

I got as far away from his bungalow as fast as I could. The cool morning air felt as fresh and crisp as ever during the mad dash back to my room.

It was prospectively the most terrifying day of my life, and yet, I’d never been happier.