Rundimahair: A new hero for a new adventure by Larry Forkner (summer books .TXT) 📗

grace, the red dropped underneath Ashling and took her weight on its back. Eamon watched gratefully as the red quickly spiraled to the ground and landed softly beside Ailbe. He hurried to join them.

When he realized Ailbe was there, Eamon understood who the great red was. Sean was turning out to be more–much more–than he or Ashling could have ever imagined.

* * *

Sean slowly opened his eyes to sunlight filtering through the window shades. His first conscious thought was that it felt like déjà vu to wake up in the Cahir’s spare bedroom. His second, and more urgent, thought was that he’d never been so thirsty in his entire life. His throat felt so dry and parched he could barely swallow.

He climbed out of bed, intent on guzzling water right from the bathroom faucet. Sean made it two steps before he collapsed in a heap on the bedroom floor.

When he opened his eyes again, the sun was setting. It was apparent that hours had passed since he’d collapsed on the floor. Sean began to wonder if this would always be the case when he visited the Cahirs.

“Before you complain,” Ashling said, as she charged into the room. “I was only reading your thoughts to make sure you didn’t try to get up and then fall flat on your handsome face again.”

“Water!” was all Sean managed to croak.

“If you weren’t too lazy to turn your head, you’d see a quart of ice water right beside you on the night stand,” Ashling said, smiling brightly.

Sean turned his head, struggling to ignore the massive pain. When he reached for the jug of water, he realized it wasn’t just his head that ached. His entire body felt like it had been run over by a Sherman tank.

“Let me help you with that,” Ashling said gently, as she hoisted the jug to his lips.

He was grateful for the straw in the jug, since he was certain he couldn’t raise his head to drink. Sean guzzled the entire quart without taking a breath. His burning throat fell marginally better, but he thought he could drink another gallon without hesitating.

Ashling sat on the edge of the bed and held his hand. Even the gentle squeeze hurt like crazy. “Ouch” he mumbled.

“Sure, and true, you’re the worst patient I’ve ever encountered, you big baby,” Ashling said tenderly.

“Now I know why that dragon, in our kitchen, came after you. It no doubt could recognize you were dragon born–even while I was too ignorant to see the truth staring me right in the face.”

“You were too busy being suspicious of me and trying to throw me out of your house,” Sean managed to rasp out. Sean was immediately sorry for his jest when he saw the crestfallen look on Ashling’s face.

“Though I know you’re only teasing, you’re right as rain about me. I was much too preoccupied with my unfounded suspicions to listen to my dear father. He told me all along you were someone very special. Da even suspected you could be the one spoken of in the writings of our beloved ancient of days.”

She started to say more, but when she saw the worried look on his face, Ashling just smiled and bent over to kiss his unshaven cheek. “Who knew you could grow such a manly beard in only four days, my dear Sean.”

“Four days?” he mumbled.

“Well, it’s been four days since you tried to get out of bed on your own and fell flat on your face, so you did.”

“How long…?” was all he could ask.

“I assume you’re asking how long since you turned into a magnificent and amazingly fierce red dragon. If that is indeed the question, the answer is three long weeks.”

“Weeks,” he muttered.

“Truth be told, you’re fortunate that you woke up at all, my dear Sean.”

That was the second time she’d called him “her Sean”. He liked the sound of it very much. “How did…I mean doesn’t it seems impossible…so confused,” he stammered.

“Don’t try to understand it all right now, Sean. It’s the Creator’s own truth that Da and I can hardly fathom what we witnessed with our own eyes. Never in the long history of our blessed clan had anything like this taken place. You’re a miracle, dear Shawn, and don’t ever try to convince me otherwise. To do so would be a silly, hopeless cause and that’s the sure and simple truth of it.”

Sean tried to think clearly through the pain in his head. Three weeks had passed without him being aware of it. A thought struck him out of the blue. He gathered himself to try to explain his concern to Ashling.

“Save yourself the trouble, Sean. Until I teach you how to guard your thoughts, they are open to anyone with a touch of Irish magic, without the need for me to read your mind.”

“Jennie,” he rasped.

“Not to worry, Sean. Do you not recall when I explained that time in the mortal world is not the same as it is here? Though you’ve been gone for three weeks, it will seem like less than a day to Jennie. The only problem that might occur is if she tries to call you.”

“That is going to take some time for me to wrap my head around,” Sean rasped. “The three weeks that passed since I left Portland, is less than a day outside of Rundimahair?”

“Strange to you, but it’s the Creator’s truth,” Ashling said. “It all depends on what plane of existence you’re in. If you lived where our Creator lives, a thousand of our years is like a single day.”

“I…it seems impossible,” Sean stammered.

“Sorry Sean, I’ve given you too much too soon,” Ashling said, smiling kindly. “Don’t worry about Jennie. To her, you’ve only been gone a short while.”

“It’s not likely she’ll call if it is only the first day I left Portland. She wanted me to get away from the stress and worry of work. Jennie won’t call unless it is an emergency of some kind,” Sean explained.

“Your