Chapter five
the cottage in the woods
T he inside of the cottage was inviting and unpretentious. Candles sputtered to life as Darragh rounded the wooden counter that separated the small den from the kitchen. At least, I assumed it was the kitchen. The appliances that typified a kitchen on Earth were absent. Darragh dodged the many low-hanging iron pots and unpacked a handful of jars from his satchel. Pushing aside glass bottles, Darragh added the full jars to the open shelves that ran the length of the wall. He dumped the rest in a wash basin set into the counter. Heading to the den, he paused beside me to hang his coat by the door.
Outside, the sun was setting. The final trickles of light poured through a large, west-facing window. Shadows cast by trees danced to-and-fro on a stone fireplace, which sat facing a plain sofa and rug. Darragh scaled a ladder that led up to a loft. All over the cottage, dried flowersand branches hung from exposed beams, fill ing the space with the aroma of herbs and spices. The cottage possessed apleasant, lived-in atmospherethatmade me feel at home. I longed to warm my toesby the fireplace,whilea crackling fire burnedin the hearth.
Speaking of which, the fireplace remained unlit, yet the cottage was strangely toasty.
“How do you keep it warm while you’re away?” I called.
“The house is enchanted. It holds a temperature I find comfortable,” Darragh’s muffled voice replied. He climbed down the ladder and added, “Actually, it’s warmer than I’d like. I wonder if it’s switched to accommodate you.”
It was quite cozy.
“That’s a shame. I love a good fire—”
Flames burst to life in the hearth, bringing with them an intoxicating smokiness. I calmed my heart, relaxing only when the eager flames died back to a reasonable size. “Was that the cottage accommodating me, or you?” Darragh didn’t have to answer. The way he smirked and looked away was enough. My cheeks warmed...from the fire.
Definitely from the fire.
Now, with us both safe in his cottage, Darragh appeared decidedly less icy. He moved with a comfortable ease, and even smiled when he handed me a pile of dry clothes. I examined the pants and flowy white shirt. Darragh directed me to a door at the back of the cottage. “There’s a washing basin if you’d like to clean up.”
“And, um, what if I needed to, uhhh…” I trailed off. Unaware of the direction I was going, Darragh looked at me vacantly. I sighed. “Where may I use the bathroom?”
“Oh!” Darragh clasped his hands together and his gaze dropped. “Uh-right-yes.” Colour crept up his neck and stained his cheeks. “There’s a—what would you call it? A pot? A chamber pot? There’s one in there. Don’t worry about, uh, emptying it or anything. It’ll...take care of itself.” We stood awkwardly. Darragh managed to continue, “No need to flush or—”
“I’ll be right out,” I interrupted and fled. Behind the kitchen, through a small door, sat a glass conservatory. In the fading light, the surrounding trees were just visible through the glass panes.
The bathroom was small, but lovely. A big copper tub sat amongst plants of all shapes and sizes. The remnants of the setting sun shone through a skylight and dust motes danced in the sunbeams. What a pleasant way to spend an evening, soaking in the tub and watching the stars sparkle to life.
The clothes Darragh gave me were laughably big, but comfortable. They smelled of campfires. Just like Darragh. Inhaling deeply, I suddenly realized that I was smelling Darragh’s clothing. And enjoying smelling Darragh’s clothing. I dropped the fabric. I rinsed my face using a pitcher of water and—rather awkwardly—saw to my other needs. There weren’t any mirrors in the room. I hoped I looked okay. The ends of my hair curled from being submerged earlier, and I felt like a pirate in my big white shirt.
I rejoined Darragh, who sat on the sofa before the fire. The sun now fully set, the only light emanated from the fireplace, and a few candles scattered here and there. Darragh gestured to a sweater that lay next to him and murmured, “In case you get cold.” I acknowledged the sweater but didn’t put it on as I sat on the rug next to the fire.
“Oh!” While the rug appeared scratchy and coarse, the fabric was soft and…happy? It’s hard to explain but, the moment I sat down, I felt it. It was warm, like a hug from someone cherished. I leaned, taking a closer look. “This is beautiful,” I murmured. Woven into the fabric, a boat listed in the water beneath a starry sky. On the deck, two people embraced in a passionate kiss. Bright threads came together to create a tangle of red hair that billowed out from one of the two. “Are you sure it should be on the floor? ”
Darragh half-smiled. “Someone in my family used to make them.” He pointed above the fireplace, where a similar textile hung like a tapestry: a garden scene featuring a thatched wooden house, bordered by all sorts of flowers. Lilac and hyacinth teased my nose, bringing back memories of spring I didn’t know I had. “They were traded out of the family for years. I’ve been trying to get them back.”
“Just beautiful,” I muttered. A snarl erupted outside. “What was that?” I cried, my body alert.
Darragh hadn’t reacted. “You get used to it.” He shrugged. “Focus on the fire.” It burned with renewed vigor, snapping and crackling loudly. I appreciated Darragh’s attempt to comfort me, even if I could still hear the occasional growl.
“Does it take a lot of effort to keep the fire going?” I glanced at Darragh and caught him staring. He looked away.
“Uh…” His brows furrowed, like I’d caught him deep in thought. “Not really. A little initially, to light it.”
I stretched my legs toward the fire. A flame playfully licked my toes. “Ah!” I snatched my feet away and glared at Darragh. He suppressed a mischievous grin and stood, heading to the kitchen. He returned with two terracotta mugs, handed me one, and resumed his spot on the sofa.
“Did you drug this?” I swirled the contents, which smelled of chamomile and mint. Darragh sighed and took the mug. He held eye contact with me while he took a large gulp. After wiping froth from his lip, he gave it back. “What if you’ve built up a tolerance to whatever drug is in this?” I scrutinized the liquid.
“Okay, give it back.” Darragh grabbed for the mug. I shielded it with my body and laughed. I sipped the warm liquid and settled in.
“So,” I began sharply, “about the mind reading.”
Darragh tensed. “How did you know? ”
“I can feel it.”
“You shouldn’t.” Darragh leaned in, touched with concern. “Does it hurt?”
“No. It just feels like rain, or trickling water.”
“It’s undetectable by most Hiraethans.”
“Cool. How long have you been reading my mind?”
Darragh rubbed his neck. “Since we got here.” I stared, awaiting more confessions. Redness crept into his cheeks. “And a few times before that.”
“Did you see anything you liked in there?”
Darragh fidgeted and pushed a strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s not like that. I can’t really read your mind, just, passing thoughts as they move through—and I haven’t been poking around. I’ve been translating.”
“Translating what? We’re speaking English.”
Darragh shook his head. “No, we aren’t. I’m translating for you. In here.” He tapped his temple.
“But you can speak English. Why would we need translating?”
“I don’t want to draw attention to us, if anyone heard us speaking English…” Darragh grimaced. “It’s just easier this way. Trust me.”
He used that word again. Trust. I had no reason to trust him. In fact, I had several reasons not to trust him, but…he’d saved my life. Twice that I knew of. Thrice if I believed his story about bringing me here to help me. He felt trustworthy, even if I believed he wasn’t being entirely honest. The light from the fire danced on his skin, it bounced off the delicate curls that touched his collarbone. Was he trustworthy—or just good-looking?
Darragh shifted uncomfortably on the sofa.
“Can you all read minds?”
“No, only the most powerful of us can—and even then, it’s not a perfect art.” Darragh sipped his drink. “If you have secrets, try not to think about them too loudly.”
Alright. Whatever that meant.
“Okay, well, can you not read mine?”
“I’ll try not to.”
We sat in silence, and I glanced around the cottage. Several pots filled with lush, healthy plants lined the windowsills. There wasn’t much else to look at. One sofa, and one rustic stool made of sticks near the kitchen. Quite the solitary existence out here in the woods. How did Darragh keep busy? My hand itched for my phone. The threat of boredom pressed in already.
“What do you do out here at night? Do you have any books?”
“No books.”
“Really? You always had books at the café.”
“I leave them on Earth. There aren’t any books on Hiraeth.”
“But, how? Why?”
“We just don’t have them yet.” Darragh paused. “While we’re at it, there isn’t any coffee either.”
“What?!” I stared at him. “Why would you bring me here?!” I climbed dramatically to my feet and stomped to the door. When I peeked back at Darragh, he just smiled sadly. I padded back and sat beside him. He inched toward the arm of the sofa, away from me. His fingers spun one of his many rings nervously. The sweater he’d laid out for me was soft and heavy; I slipped it on. “Why aren’t there any books?”
“May I take your hand?” Darragh asked, offering me his. Unsure, I hesitated. I stared at his outstretched hand, at the veins that snaked their way up his forearm…
“It will be brief,” Darragh promised. I took his hand.
Darragh disappeared and the cottage fell away .
The familiar brick and tile work of Rousseau’s greeted me. I struggled to orient myself. I wasn’t behind the counter, instead, I sat at a table near the front window. Across the café, Sasha put the coffee pot back in the machine. I recognized the top he wore. Hot pink, reading, ‘REALLY QUEEN’. Once finished, Sasha hurried into the back.
This was Darragh’s first time at Rousseau’s, the day we met. But this wasn’t just a memory; it was like I was there , experiencing it through Darragh. The sunshine poured through the window and kissed my skin. The bitterness of coffee lingered on my tongue. The familiar, comforting pages of a book pressed my fingertips. Darragh heard Sasha return but didn’t look up. It wasn’t until Darragh heard the word, “Friend,” whispered in my mind, that he glanced away from his book.
There I stood.
Looking at myself through Darragh, I felt less repulsed. I didn’t recoil as if I’d looked in a mirror. From here, I couldn’t see all my flaws.
Intrusive warmth filled my chest.
It’s strange. I identified my own thoughts and feelings during Darragh’s memory. For example, the pants I wore were disgustingly ill-fitting. I’d throw them in the trash if I ever made it home, but I also felt an entirely separate set of feelings and emotions. The way Darragh felt in that moment. When Darragh saw me, he was surprised, but there was also an overwhelming sense of…familiarity.
Sasha had said, “He recognized you.”
Sasha was right.
When we made eye contact, Darragh reacted like he’d caught sight of a familiar face in a crowd. A flush of excitement coursed through him. His stomach tightened, and all the other faces faded. Darragh lingered on me as I avoided eye contact. His gaze travelled down my body, and slowly, the exhilaration turned to—
The cottage reappeared.
Darragh’s hand slipped from mine.
Fear.
Darragh was excited to see me, but afraid. I started to ask why. “That’s why we don’t have books,” Darragh explained. “We’ve no need. We communicate through touch with visions and emotions like that.”
“How do you pass on information?”
“We imbue objects with memories. Where your children read books, ours learn from objects.”
“What about stories? Fantasy and make-believe things?”
Darragh shrugged.
“What do you tell your children when they’re babies to put them to sleep?” The fire went out with a gentle whoosh . “What happened?” The sudden darkness made me uneasy. A soft yellow light shimmered in the fireplace. It grew bigger and brighter until it resembled a crouched bird. It leapt from the hearth and onto the ceiling, crackling and trailing embers around the room. The bird grew, oranges and reds blurred together. It exploded in a silent firework until the entire roof was a living phoenix. Green lights shimmered at the edges of the floor. They grew like trees and spread out and up to greet the flames on the ceiling. Flowers made of light flashed around me, in pink, purple, and yellow. They swirled and circled, moving toward the ceiling.
Then the light disappeared.
A fire burned in the hearth, illuminating the cottage as normal. Darragh watched me for a reaction. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking, ‘ Something wrong? ’
Smiling, I said, “Well, there weren’t any dragons.” Darragh raised his other eyebrow. “I’m just saying, I’m partial to a dragon in my stories.” I met his eyes in the firelight. “But I wouldn’t mind falling asleep to that every night.”
Darragh shifted. “Speaking of sleeping”—he stood—“you’re probably tired. ”
“Not really.”
Darragh was already up and checking the front door. He placed his palm against the wood and muttered under his breath. He did the same to each of the windows on the main floor. When he finished, he walked by the front door again and paused, as if trying to remember something. He put his palm on the door and repeated the same incantation he’d uttered two minutes ago.
Was he locking something out, or someone in?
Darragh caught me staring. “It opens from the inside. You can get out if you need to.”
“I thought I asked you not to read my mind.”
“I didn’t have to read your mind,” Darragh mumbled as he walked away.
“Do you blame me?”
“I suppose not.” Darragh pointed to the loft. “After you.”
I scaled the ladder and Darragh followed with extra blankets. Once I climbed into his bed—just a simple mattress on the floor—Darragh asked, “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Are you cold?”
“No.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if you needed anything, or would you suffer without it?”
“No, and yes.”
Darragh gave me a fussy look before he pointed to a hatch-style window over my head. “Same as the others. If anything happens and you need to abandon the cottage, you can get out here.” He unlatched the window to show me. “Anything. An emergency. An intruder. A fire. You run.”
“Are you the fire safety warden here?” I joked.
Darragh didn’t laugh. He closed the hatch and stepped down the ladder.
“Where will you sleep?”
“Sofa,” he grunted.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind—”
“Goodnight, Nell.” Darragh disappeared.
I hadn’t been tired earlier, but now, curled in warm blankets on a soft mattress, I yawned. Worry for my cat, Watney, needled me. What if Sasha didn’t close the door properly, and Watney slipped out? What if a car hit him? What if he was taken by coyotes? Did we have coyotes? Sh, sh, sh . I quieted my spiraling thoughts. Sasha knew how much Watney meant to me, he would take care of him.
I snuggled deeper into Darragh’s bed.
Comforted by the gentle crackle from the fire, I fell asleep easily.
I couldn’t remember the last time I fell asleep easily.
***
I woke in the night, reaching for my phone to check the time. When I couldn’t find it, I sat up in a panic. I realized it was far, far away. I relaxed and lay back.
I have to pee. Can I wait to pee?
I rubbed my legs like a cricket beneath the warm blankets. My bladder pulsed.
No. No, I cannot wait to pee.
I tossed the blankets and slid out of bed. The ladder creaked as I tip- toed down. I snuck a peek at Darragh, asleep on the sofa. Illuminated by the moonlight, he slept on his back, his hair unbound. A thin blanket half-covered his bare chest. Darragh’s right leg jutted up at an angle, while his left leg hung over the side of the sofa. A twang of guilt nagged me. He must be desperately uncomfortable.
A shadow in the window caught my eye. A silhouette that wasn’t there before. I squinted, and the object came into focus. “What the shit!?” I stumbled into the counter. Several canisters and glass jars jostled and crashed to the floor.
Darragh leapt up and crossed the room. There wasn’t a trace of drowsiness about him as he asked, “What’s wrong?” I pointed to the thing in the window. Darragh shoved me roughly behind his back and oriented himself toward the threat. The moonlight shone behind the creature, creating only a vague silhouette. Darragh took a half step closer, keeping me an arm’s length back. His body relaxed. “It’s just a nightstalker”.
“A what?”
“It must have followed us home. They’re harmless, as long as we keep everything locked.” Darragh looked at me. “Which I do.” The fire kindled to life as Darragh took another step forward.
I wish it hadn’t.
Slender and tall, the creature looked almost human, though it possessed bat-like and leathery skin that blended into the night. On its face sat two prominent, unblinking eyes, stretched so very wide open.
Better to see you with.
Two tall, rabbit-like ears sat on its head.
Better to hear you with.
Hundreds of teeth jutted from a grotesque grin that stretched from ear to ear .
Better to eat you with.
Though Darragh walked in front of the creature, its unwavering gaze never left me.
“Why’s it looking at me?” I whispered.
“You smell unlike anything in our world. They know better than to follow me, but this one probably got a whiff of you and wanted to have a taste.” The nightstalker tilted its head. Its nostrils flared, and hot breath fogged the glass.
“What do we do?”
“Nothing for now. They’re more dangerous at night, and its screams will attract others. I’ll take care of it in the morning, or he’ll just keep coming back every night until we slip up.”
“He won’t like, go away?”
“No. Once they’ve scented you, they’re on you for life. Horrible things. They’ll wait until you get caught out at night or forget to lock a door or window,” Darragh continued, oblivious to my rapidly growing discomfort. “They’re quite a nuisance. We’ll have to be more careful.” The nightstalker dragged a thick, dark tongue along the glass. Gobs of drool dripped from its curved, dagger-like teeth.
A fearful squeak left my lips. Darragh glanced back at me. My shoulders were so tense they nearly touched my ears.
“Oh.”
Moving between the nightstalker and I, Darragh placed his hands on my shoulders. “You’re safe. It can’t get in, and even if it could, I’d take care of it.” He let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “You probably wouldn’t even wake up.”
I didn’t feel better.
Darragh smiled and rubbed my arms. “I brought you here—and I will protect you with my life, Nell. I swear it.” Maybe it was the confidence in his eyes, or the strength of his hands on my shoulders but…I felt a bit better.