The Forgotten Ones

until she uncovered her face and looked at me. “I don’t know who you think I am, Eithne, but right now I have to see my father. Can you take me to him? Please?”
    Her face relaxed a fraction and she nodded. “Follow me.”

    Liam lay in a bed motionless, covered with soft blankets pulled up to his chest. His eyes were closed, but he’d regained his normal coloring. He looked like he was just sleeping soundly.
    My mother sat in a chair that had been pulled up right next to the bed. She gazed down at him, her face a collage of different emotions. The strongest by far was love.
    I sat on the arm of the chair and placed my hand slowly on her shoulder. When she looked up at me, she smiled again, her eyes reflecting the light like sea glass in the sun.
    “I never dreamed we would all be in the same room, Allison. It was too much to hope for.” She lifted her hand to Liam’s face but wasn’t able to break through the geis to touch him.
    “Were you aware of everything that went on around you? All of this time?” I asked, not sure if she would know what I meant.
    “Yes,” she whispered, pain evident on her face. “It has been like being stuck in a room while I watched your life unfold on a television. All of this time I’ve been trapped in my own mind, screaming, but nobody could hear me.”
    “Oh, Mom…once Ethan is safe, I’m going to figure out how to make this right.”
    “Allison, you should return before they notice you are missing,” Aodhan said, appearing in the doorway.
    I smiled at my mother and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

    Aodhan brought me back to the gathering room where most of the Danaans were now dancing in the center of the room. Deaghlan sat at the head of the table with Saoirse, both leaning back in their chairs watching the dancers.
    They were dancing closer than before, more intimately. Their bodies pressed tightly together, moving with each other. As the music played on, they changed partners and entwined their bodies with no shame or self-consciousness. Liam told me that, by nature, the Danaans weren’t a monogamous race. Some had a bondmate, like Diarmuid and Eithne, but they considered intimacy something that wasn’t restricted to any one individual.
    Aodhan and I went back to our seats, and I wondered how much more time I had to spend here before it was considered polite to go to the bedroom that awaited me. The morning couldn’t come soon enough. The panic was setting in, and I was forced to have faith in Saoirse’s visions that I would get to Ethan before any permanent damage was done.
    “Perhaps a dance would take your mind off of your friend?” Deaghlan appeared at my side, startling me.
    I shook my head, refusing to look up into those eyes. “I think it’s time for me to get some sleep,” I said, watching the way Niamh stared at Aodhan over the shoulder of her dance partner.
    For a moment, Deaghlan didn’t respond. “Would you like an escort?” he asked, his words smooth and tantalizing like honey, but with a touch of something sharper.
    Aodhan snorted softly. “It’s no trouble for me to take her to her room. I’ll be going too.”
    “Very well,” Deaghlan responded.
    I was more than a little afraid of the unhappiness of his tone.

    Gram sits on the couch, her hair pulled back in a bun that’s coming undone. Her eyes are downcast, and she’s holding a picture of my mother in her hands, worrying the edges with her fingers.
    I can see Pop is sitting in the kitchen, staring off into space as Aunt Jessie tries to talk to him. His eyes look sunken in, his skin so pale. His eyebrows knit together, and he closes his eyes tight. His hand flies to his chest and Aunt Jessie shouts at him, asking him what’s wrong. His eyes slacken, and his mouth opens as he starts to slip out of the chair.
    I woke with a start. The bed was so comfortable, but I knew I wasn’t at home. Memories began flooding back to me. I was in Tír na n’Óg. Liam had been stabbed. My mother was herself, if only temporarily. And Ethan was captured by sadistic faeries who wanted to do all kinds of bad things to him.
    Then, the memory of the dream hit me: my grandfather was having a heart attack.
    I jumped up out of the bed, just as Niamh walked into the room. Her expression wasn’t the typical haughty one I was used to. She looked like she had something to tell me.
    “I saw your dream,” she began.
    “Oh?” I asked as grabbed my clothes off the table next to my