Skellig

Chapter 42

IT WAS LONG AFTER DUSK WHEN Mina and I went out with the remnants of 27 and 53 and a bottle of brown ale in a paper bag. The lights were on in the streets, the air was cold, and the sky was glittering with stars. Our breath curled in long white plumes around us. I told Mina about Mum’s dream as we walked.

“Extraordinary,” she whispered.

She smiled and said it showed that he’d always be there, whenever we might need him. But we knew we wanted to see him and touch him again.

In the lane, we found Whisper at our heels.

“Bad boy,” she said, leaning down to stroke him.

She laughed.

“All day long the fledglings got stronger and braver. They fluttered up into the middle of the hedge where they couldn’t be caught. All day long they were getting worms, worms, worms, and when we let him out, this one just sat grumpy and frustrated on the step beside us.”

She stroked him again.

“Horrible little savage,” she said, and he purred and pressed against her.

We went through the DANGER door expecting nothing. The house was still and silent. The attic was empty. No owls. No Skellig. On the windowsill we found a dead mouse, a bit of bacon rind, a little mound of dead black beetles.

We sat on the floor against the wall and stared out toward the endless stars.

“I really think she’ll be all right now,” I said.

Mina smiled and Whisper purred.

“Feel my heart,” I said.

She put her hand on my chest.

“Can you feel it?” I said. “Her heart beating right in there beside my own?”

She concentrated.

“I’m not sure, Michael,” she said.

“Try again. Concentrate. It’s like touching and listening and imagining all at the same time. It’s something far off and tiny, like blackbird chicks cheeping in a nest.”

She closed her eyes and felt again.

She smiled.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, there it is. There and there and there.”

“The baby’s heart,” I said. “It won’t stop now.”

“It won’t stop now.”

She started singing her William Blake song.

I joined in with her.

“See?” she said. “I said we’d get you singing.”

The night deepened and we knew we’d have to go home soon.

“I could sleep here,” she said. “Just like this. And be happy forever.”

I sighed.

“But we have to go.”

We didn’t move.

And then there was a sudden rustling in the air outside, the stars were blocked out, the window creaked, and there he was, climbing in through the arched frame. He didn’t see us. He crouched on the floor, gasping for breath. His wings slowly settled on his back.

“Skellig,” I hissed.

He turned his moon-pale face toward us.

“Michael. Mina,” he said. His voice was shallow, thin, strained, but a smile was forming on his face.

I held out the paper bag.

“We brought you this, Skellig. 27 and 53.”

“Ha!”

I opened the bag and we took it to him. We knelt at his side. He hooked his long curved finger into the food, lifted out a string of sauce and pork and bean sprouts. He licked it from his finger with his long pale tongue.

“Sweetest of nectars,” he whispered. “Food of the blinking gods.”

“And this,” I said.

I snapped the top off the bottle and he let me trickle the beer into his open mouth.

“Thought it was cold mice for supper and I come home to a banquet.”

He ate again, sighed with contentment.

“Pair of angels,” he said. “That’s what you are.”

We watched him eat and drink, saw him gathering his strength.

“You went to my sister,” I said.

He laughed.

“Hm! Pretty little thing.”

“You made her strong.”

“That one’s glittering with life. Heart like fire. It was her that gave the strength to me.”

He sipped at the beer again.

“But worn out now,” he said. “Exhausted.”

Then he reached out and touched Mina’s face, then mine.

“But I’m getting strong, thanks to the angels and the owls.”

He put the food and drink aside and leaned against the wall.

We sat in a tiny circle, the three of us, and for minutes we just watched each other and smiled.

“You’re going away,” I said at last.

He closed his eyes and nodded.

“Where will you go?” I said.

He shrugged, pointed out to the sky.

“Somewhere,” he said.

I touched his dry, cold hand.

“What are you?” I whispered.

He shrugged again.

“Something,” he said. “Something like you, something like a beast, something like a bird, something like an angel.” He laughed. “Something like that.”

He smiled.

“Let’s stand up,” he said.

We made our circle and we held each other tight. We looked deep into each other’s eyes. We began to turn. Our hearts and breath were together. We turned and turned until the ghostly wings rose from Mina’s back and mine, until we felt ourselves being raised, until we seemed to turn and dance in the empty air.

And then it ended and we came to earth again.

“We’ll remember forever,” said Mina.

Skellig leaned forward and hugged us both.

He licked a drop of red sauce from his lips.

“Thank you for 27 and 53,” he said. “Thank you for giving me my life again. Now you have to go home.”

We watched him as we walked toward the door and as we pulled it open. We peered through as we slowly pulled it closed. He gazed back at us with his tender eyes. Then we went silently down through the house and we stepped out with Whisper into the astounding night.