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zg_shadows2008-01-22 05:34 pm
annwfyn.livejournal.com) wrote in zg_shadows2008-01-22 05:34 pm
On geasa
The flat in Plymouth was a particularly nasty one. There was black mold in the kitchen, and the bathroom reeked of old urine and stagnant water. There was only one bedroom, which was tiny and cramped with wallpaper peeling off the walls. Tegan slept there, and Callie slept on the sofa in the living room.
Yet for all that, they were happy. They spent the first weekend there painting the bedroom with felt tips and crayons. Callie viewed lost deposits as one of the costs of renting, and so rarely bothered with any of the rules laid down by the series of slum landlords she rented from. The Monday after that, Callie skipped work (a job she assumed she would lose soon anyway) and took Tegan to the botanical gardens, to steal flowers to fill the living room.
They got home at 6 pm, with their arms full of flowers. Callie stuck them to the curtain rail, and arranged them in great bowls in every corner. She put blue flowers to the north, and yellow to the south, and sang as she arranged them.
By 7 pm, Tegan had a nose bleed.
At first Callie didn't pay a lot of attention. She stuffed Tegan's nose with tissue paper, and told her a story about a man with three heads that Jacky O'Riordan had killed with a teaspoon. Then she put Tegan to bed, and went out for the evening. Callie O'Riordan loved her daughter, but she'd never been able to stay inside when there was a bright fat moon in the sky.
When she got back at 8 am, Tegan was sitting by the door in floods of tears. There was blood trickling from her ears and she made horrible whimpering noises when Callie touched her.
The pain got worse over the day, and Callie grew more and more anxious. At 5 pm she locked herself in the bathroom with a battered silver bowl and stared into the depths, trying to remember the soothsay her mother had taught her.
It was close to midnight when Callie climbed over the walls of the botanical garden and left every single flower that she and her daughter had stolen in a pile on the grass, before leaving in the shape of a cat.
In the small hours of the morning she took Tegan for a walk down to Plymouth Hoe, where they could sit on the grass and see the sea, and tried to explain to Tegan what a geas meant.
"It's a good thing," she said, although she didn't quite believe it herself, and she kissed Tegan on the forehead. "And it could be much worse. You could be like Molly McLeod in Scotland, who's too afraid to let anyone into her home for fear that she'll have to defend them with her life. Or you could be like my cousin, Cormac, who could never say "no" to a pretty girl. Whatever she asks, if she's got the look around her, he has to go along with it.
"You'll have to be careful, mind, and we'll need to go see someone who can tell you what has been laid on you, but it's a good thing. It means you've got the old blood in you, and that's a precious thing. There aren't enough of us around..."
"But it hurts," Tegan said and Callie kissed her again.
"Yes, sweetheart," she said. "It will hurt. I hurt too sometimes. Do you remember that time in Cambridge when that nasty man reported us to the police, and I got locked away in a police station for the night?"
Tegan nodded.
"Well, it was a full moon that night," Callie said. "And all night I hurt so badly I could barely breathe. But I got through it. And you'll get through it too."
She hugged Tegan tightly and then said "and this means that you've got a touch of the old magic to you. We need to start working on that, and see how it has taken you. I'll get you properly trained before you turn thirteen."
*******************************
The children's home was even nastier than the flat in Plymouth in some ways. It was drab and chill, and every room smelled slightly of disinfectant. There were eight children staying in the home when Tegan was first put there, and all of them had faces like concrete. The oldest was a fourteen year old girl called Ayeesha, who told Tegan on her first day that she could break her arm, any time she wanted to.
Tegan didn't say anything in response. She didn't know what to say, and she was terrified of the big, bulky teenager. She retreated into silence and stared at the cracks in the ceiling, and daydreamed about sliding through them into another world.
One of the social workers took a fancy to the strange, quiet child, and brought her a picture book to cheer her up. Tegan stared at the book when it was handed to her. It was a lovely book. There was a picture of a unicorn on the cover, and the social worker was a kindly woman, with soft brown eyes.
Tegan shook her head and handed the book back.
The soft brown eyes widened in disbelief.
"Take the book, Tegan," the social worker said. "It's a present for you, love. Don't you want a present?"
Tegan bit her lip and shook her head. She did want the book. She wanted the book more than words could say, but she couldn't think of anything she could give the social worker in return.
The soft brown eyes grew hard.
"You're a nasty ungrateful child," the social worker said. "And you need to learn to be more grateful to nice people who want to help you, otherwise you're going to be on your own for a long time, Tegan O'Riordan."
Tegan didn't say anything. She managed to hold back the tears until after the social worker with the soft brown eyes had gone away.
Yet for all that, they were happy. They spent the first weekend there painting the bedroom with felt tips and crayons. Callie viewed lost deposits as one of the costs of renting, and so rarely bothered with any of the rules laid down by the series of slum landlords she rented from. The Monday after that, Callie skipped work (a job she assumed she would lose soon anyway) and took Tegan to the botanical gardens, to steal flowers to fill the living room.
They got home at 6 pm, with their arms full of flowers. Callie stuck them to the curtain rail, and arranged them in great bowls in every corner. She put blue flowers to the north, and yellow to the south, and sang as she arranged them.
By 7 pm, Tegan had a nose bleed.
At first Callie didn't pay a lot of attention. She stuffed Tegan's nose with tissue paper, and told her a story about a man with three heads that Jacky O'Riordan had killed with a teaspoon. Then she put Tegan to bed, and went out for the evening. Callie O'Riordan loved her daughter, but she'd never been able to stay inside when there was a bright fat moon in the sky.
When she got back at 8 am, Tegan was sitting by the door in floods of tears. There was blood trickling from her ears and she made horrible whimpering noises when Callie touched her.
The pain got worse over the day, and Callie grew more and more anxious. At 5 pm she locked herself in the bathroom with a battered silver bowl and stared into the depths, trying to remember the soothsay her mother had taught her.
It was close to midnight when Callie climbed over the walls of the botanical garden and left every single flower that she and her daughter had stolen in a pile on the grass, before leaving in the shape of a cat.
In the small hours of the morning she took Tegan for a walk down to Plymouth Hoe, where they could sit on the grass and see the sea, and tried to explain to Tegan what a geas meant.
"It's a good thing," she said, although she didn't quite believe it herself, and she kissed Tegan on the forehead. "And it could be much worse. You could be like Molly McLeod in Scotland, who's too afraid to let anyone into her home for fear that she'll have to defend them with her life. Or you could be like my cousin, Cormac, who could never say "no" to a pretty girl. Whatever she asks, if she's got the look around her, he has to go along with it.
"You'll have to be careful, mind, and we'll need to go see someone who can tell you what has been laid on you, but it's a good thing. It means you've got the old blood in you, and that's a precious thing. There aren't enough of us around..."
"But it hurts," Tegan said and Callie kissed her again.
"Yes, sweetheart," she said. "It will hurt. I hurt too sometimes. Do you remember that time in Cambridge when that nasty man reported us to the police, and I got locked away in a police station for the night?"
Tegan nodded.
"Well, it was a full moon that night," Callie said. "And all night I hurt so badly I could barely breathe. But I got through it. And you'll get through it too."
She hugged Tegan tightly and then said "and this means that you've got a touch of the old magic to you. We need to start working on that, and see how it has taken you. I'll get you properly trained before you turn thirteen."
The children's home was even nastier than the flat in Plymouth in some ways. It was drab and chill, and every room smelled slightly of disinfectant. There were eight children staying in the home when Tegan was first put there, and all of them had faces like concrete. The oldest was a fourteen year old girl called Ayeesha, who told Tegan on her first day that she could break her arm, any time she wanted to.
Tegan didn't say anything in response. She didn't know what to say, and she was terrified of the big, bulky teenager. She retreated into silence and stared at the cracks in the ceiling, and daydreamed about sliding through them into another world.
One of the social workers took a fancy to the strange, quiet child, and brought her a picture book to cheer her up. Tegan stared at the book when it was handed to her. It was a lovely book. There was a picture of a unicorn on the cover, and the social worker was a kindly woman, with soft brown eyes.
Tegan shook her head and handed the book back.
The soft brown eyes widened in disbelief.
"Take the book, Tegan," the social worker said. "It's a present for you, love. Don't you want a present?"
Tegan bit her lip and shook her head. She did want the book. She wanted the book more than words could say, but she couldn't think of anything she could give the social worker in return.
The soft brown eyes grew hard.
"You're a nasty ungrateful child," the social worker said. "And you need to learn to be more grateful to nice people who want to help you, otherwise you're going to be on your own for a long time, Tegan O'Riordan."
Tegan didn't say anything. She managed to hold back the tears until after the social worker with the soft brown eyes had gone away.