“What does that mean?” Mom asks.
I recite the facts I know by heart. “Every luiseach has a mentor. When they turn sixteen, they’re supposed to begin working with them. Training, I guess.”
“What kind of training?”
I shrug. “I don’t really know. Nolan’s been trying to research it—”
“Nolan was there on New Year’s!” Mom interrupts, remembering some of what Aidan helped her see just hours ago. Sometimes I forget she wasn’t exactly all there over the past few months when Nolan and I became close. She probably doesn’t even remember the times he came over, helping me figure out what the heck was happening to her.
“Nolan is my protector,” I explain. “A luiseach has both a mentor and a protector. We didn’t know he was mine until New Year’s Day either.”
“As though you didn’t have enough going on that day.” Mom grimaces, and I know she’s thinking about Victoria. I bite my lip and wrinkle my nose, a habit I got from her. I sit up, my paper-thin hospital gown wrinkling beneath me. Instantly I decide not to tell Mom that Victoria isn’t actually dead anymore. Her entire belief system has already been monumentally shaken; I don’t want to completely shatter her understanding of the way the world works. She doesn’t need to know that sometime after the doctors and nurses declared her dead, Victoria stood up and walked out of the hospital, every bit as alive as she’d been before the water demon attacked her.
“Umm . . . right. It was a big day. But anyway, the point is that ever since New Year’s, Aidan’s been trying to get me to start working with him.”
“And you don’t want to?” Mom asks gently, leaning forward. She swallows. I’m sure the idea of me doing much of anything with this near-stranger is scary for her. I know it is for me.
“I don’t know what I want,” I answer honestly. “Actually I want to go back to six months ago when you and I still lived in Austin and I didn’t know anything about ghosts or ancient Celtic words or mentors or demons or any of it. I want to un-become a luiseach.”
“Honey, it sounds to me like this isn’t something you can un-become. You didn’t even become it to begin with. You were born this way.” Before I can explain you can (sort of) un-become a luiseach, Mom continues. “But maybe . . .” She takes a deep breath, hesitating, like whatever she’s about to say next is going to be difficult. “Maybe you should start working with Aidan.”
“Really?”
“I’ve been thinking about this all night.” She nods solemnly. “I know Aidan helped me see what you two are, but I still don’t fully understand what happened to you yesterday, and I know it wasn’t safe. Your heart was beating so fast, I thought that you couldn’t possibly survive it. So . . . if there’s some sort of luiseach training that can get your body under control so whatever happened to you in the parking lot never happens again, then I don’t think you should risk going another second without learning everything you can.”
I close my eyes, remembering how it felt yesterday. I thought I’d never catch my breath; I thought my heart would explode from the effort of beating so quickly. What will I do if there’s another accident nearby, maybe a bigger one? What if next time Aidan doesn’t show up in time to help all those spirits move on before they become too overwhelming?
“I’m new to all this, but I know I want my daughter safe. And,” Mom adds shyly, dropping her gaze, “it will give you a chance to get to know Aidan, to find out all the bits and pieces of your history that I can’t tell you. To ask all of those questions you haven’t had a chance to ask yet.”
I reach out and take her hand in mine. She’s right, of course. Training with Aidan would be the perfect chance to start going through my list of questions one by one.
As long as I am a luiseach, I need to get these spirit-sensations under control. Seriously, that should be lesson number one on the very first day of luiseach training, right?
“How do we get in touch with him to let him know what you’ve decided? Do you have his cell phone number?”
The idea of Aidan with a cell phone at his ear is so absurd that I almost burst out laughing. Instead I just shake my head and blink, looking around the empty hospital room. A lost spirit hasn’t visited me since yesterday, which can only mean one thing: Aidan is close. I’m pretty sure he already knows.
That Woman
That woman approached me today, the one who worked alongside Aidan for all those years, nearly as close to him as I used to be.