Reilly tried to move, but the weight of the beam pressing on his thigh and across his chest pinned him to the ground. Inhaling was difficult. A searing pain in his upper left leg intensified with each shallow breath. The euphoric melody he’d heard as he went through the portal in the reading room only moments before vanished, replaced by the screeching and screaming of people running past him. The haunting wails sounded familiar, though he didn’t know why. Great wooden beams crashed to the ground; his body wanted to jump to his feet and run, but he could only cover his ears in an attempt to keep the cacophony from breaking his eardrums.
His nose twitched from a thick, spicy smell that added to the queasy feeling in his gut. It certainly wasn’t the university library’s invigorating aroma of leather, plank floors, and oiled hardwood. Reilly wondered if he had tripped going through the portal and banged his head … or maybe he hadn’t made it through at all. Maybe the paneled door he had stepped through was just the entrance to a storage closet. Maybe a massive earthquake had hit at that moment. Another beam crashed to the ground, only feet away. He flinched and grunted as he pulled himself up on his elbows and felt the wood slide down his chest a few inches. He strained to lift it off his legs, but it barely budged, and he fell back, panting with pain.
“It’s coming down! We’re going to die!” someone yelled. “Hurry, before another tree falls!"
“No!” another protested. “Run!”
Turning in the direction of the voices, Reilly saw a throng of people racing towards him, but they passed as if he didn’t exist.
“Hey! Somebody help!” he shouted, but no one seemed to hear him above the clamor of scared people, shaking earth, and falling debris. Blinking to clear his blurred vision, Reilly spotted a clump of spiky red mushrooms poking up from a cluster of ferns. Despite the pain, he strained to lift himself up on one elbow, and grip the beam lying across his legs with the other hand. His fingers slipped on damp, mossy wood, and he realized it wasn’t a beam, but a large tree branch. Panicking, and now fully aware that he was neither in the old library nor in the portal, he called out for his dog.
“Tuma! Tuma, where are you?” The albino dog that had arrived mysteriously at the worst time in Reilly’s life did not appear. Another thick branch crashed down, landed crisscrossed over the one on his leg, and rolled off. It shifted the branch that pinned him, which scraped down his shin with mighty force. He screamed in pain, but barely heard himself above the chaos.
Slowly, Reilly sat up and took a deep breath, relieved to be able to do both. He looked at his leg and got dizzy: a piece of wood pierced his thigh like a giant sliver. He yanked it out and yelled even louder. The thick smell of blood permeated his nostrils as it began to gush through his torn pant leg, and he covered his mouth to keep from retching. Feeling dizzy, he hung his head to his chest, letting his tangled hair cover his eyes. It was difficult to breathe again, and he couldn’t tell if the reeling motion came from inside his body, or from the moving ground. Still trapped at the ankle, he fell back again and closed his eyes, slipping out of and back into consciousness.
It’s so much easier to close my eyes. Everything seems quieter and more still this way … where’s Tuma? She was with me when I left Chantal and James in the reading room, and when I walked through the portal.
Massive branches continued to crash to the ground. If Tir Na Nog was anything like he imagined, this was not it.
It was supposed to be a beautiful place. I thought my dad would be here.
It was difficult for him to know if he was thinking clearly, not only because he had no idea where he was, but also because he wasn’t sure if he was alive.
Can I think if I’m dead? Can I bleed? Reilly groaned and barely opened his eyes. Then his eyes closed.
I’ll just lie here—in my kayak—and glide across Eagle Harbor to Eilam’s Kayak Hut. Eilam has been my best friend since I was really young, but he doesn’t have an age. Most people think he’s crazy. But Eilam knows stuff most people never even consider. Stuff about portals … talking trees … Tir Na Nog … And he knows where people go after they die.
Reilly groaned softly again.
Tuma showed up at the kayak hut one day after my dad drowned in the sailing accident, and Eilam said my dad sent her to me. Dad, where are you? … Tuma?... Finally, I’ve reached the dock. Eilam isn’t here! He’s gone, too …
Something warm and wet touched Reilly’s lips. I’ve got to get out of here! Now!
Reilly opened his eyes wide. “What was the last portal?” he blurted, as if he was answering a question on Jeopardy.
“Shhh. Drink this.” A girl pressed a cup to his mouth. “Quickly, there isn’t much time.” She held the back of his neck and poured warm liquid between his parted lips. It trickled down his throat like a thick cough suppressant, leaving a salty, black-licorice taste on his tongue. “Good,” she smiled. “Now, let’s get this off of you.”
She pushed hard on the branch that still trapped Reilly at his ankle. He looked down at the gash in his leg but leaned forward to help her. “Can you get up?” The girl pulled gently on Reilly’s arm without waiting for a response.
“Yeah, I think so.” The pain receded to a dull throb. He struggled to stand, still tasting licorice. “Am I dead?”
“Not yet.” She almost laughed. “But we will be, if we don’t hurry. Come with me!”
Reilly took a few limping steps, but he began to walk more confidently as, to his surprise, his legs regained strength. He clicked his tongue and glanced back at the cup the girl had tossed on the ground.
“Keep your eyes open for more falling branches, and be ready to jump over big limbs,” the girl warned. She led the way as they ran. The forest looked as though someone had been playing with Pick Up Sticks. Hurdling debris, Reilly heard the thunderous noises quiet to a soft rumble, and the ground beneath his feet no longer shook. Within a few minutes, they reached a giant willow tree. The girl released her tight grip on Reilly’s hand, and pushed her fingers against the trunk.
“The lift was originally designed to hold all five of our family members, but it’s smaller now, so it’s a tight fit.” There was a grinding noise and the trunk opened.
“Why is it smaller than it used to be?” Reilly asked as they stepped inside.
“See these nicks in the walls? We don’t know how it happens but whenever there is a new nick, the lift shrinks. Besides, not all of our family is with us now.”
Reilly nodded and poked a finger through one of the larger nicks.
“I saw you from our Vantage Post and figured you must be new to the Great Forest. I mean … well, it was obvious, the way you somersaulted right in front of that huge falling tree. Were you trying to get yourself killed?”
“No … I, uh, I just came through the closet at the library,” he said, looking around as he realized he was inside a tree.
“The Library?” she whispered. “How did you escape without being captured?”
She pushed a brass button on the control panel, and a gust of air whooshed through the cracks in the wooden walls. They began to move upward. “We’ve got to hide you before they find out you’re here, or my whole family will be in danger,” she whispered more softly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”
“Shhh!” She interrupted, her silver eyes glaring at him. “They may already have seen you coming, and besides, our lift has been synched!”
“Who synched it?” Reilly whispered. “And what does that mean?”
“Shhh!” She shook her head and put her finger to her mouth. They rode in silence for half a minute, long enough for Reilly to assess his surroundings. Rough lumber lined the walls of the hollow trunk. There were big gaps between the planks, and splinters protruded in spots. The lift rose so fast that everything beyond the cracks was a blur. Reilly glanced up to see that the ceiling, covered with dripping moss, was alive with insects, bugs, and worms. He stepped closer to the girl, wondering what creatures lived in the dirt floor beneath them.
The lift lurched to a stop and their feet sank into the soft floor, leaving footprints as they stepped out. Reilly followed the girl down a narrow hallway lined with high, sunlit windows. As they approached another door, he saw a green woodpecker on a perch above the doorknob.
“Katell, this man escaped from The Library,” the girl said to the bird. “We’ve got to get him inside, fast.”
Man? I’m just a kid! Reilly thought.
“Stalwart 59,” the girl commanded. The bird uttered a shrill staccato sound and flapped its wings as it gripped the perch. Then Katell faced the door. He hammered a series of long-short-long pecks with his beak, and the door opened.
Reilly and the girl entered and walked up a spiral staircase made of twisted tree branches, with a chartreuse handrail as smooth as polished jade. When they reached the landing, the space opened into an inviting room. Chairs, a couch, a piano, and end tables sat in a cozy arrangement on top of a green and blue woolen rug. Beautiful paintings hung on the walls—pictures of the sea and coastal cliffs—and reminded Reilly of home.
“Please have a seat,” the girl said. “I’ll find my mother.” She flipped her long, white-blonde hair over her shoulders as she left him.
Exhausted, Reilly sat down on the couch and scanned the room. Leaves draped the high ceilings, ivy framed the windows, and oddly-shaped doorways made of intertwined branches dispelled any question in Reilly’s mind about where the lift had stopped. He was sitting in an enormous tree house.
“Welcome to our home.” The woman rolled her r and tightened her vowels in a strong Irish accent.
Reilly rose to his feet. The mother looked like the girl’s twin, with shorter hair and a few wrinkles curved around the corners of her mouth.
“My name is Brigid,” the woman said, with a warm smile. “My daughter, Lottie, tells me you have escaped from The Library. Please, sit down.”
Brigid sat next to Reilly on the couch, and Lottie took the nearest chair.
“Aye, you must have had quite a fright,” Brigid said, taking Reilly’s hands in hers. “You are safe here, at least for now. How did you get here?”
Her hands felt warm and firm, and Reilly didn’t resist her grasp. But his mouth had the stuffed-with-cotton feeling he’d felt when his father died, and he couldn’t find the words to make sense of any of this.
“Uh ... I ...”
“Take a deep breath, lad. You’ll be just fine.” Brigid patted Reilly’s hand. “Why don’t you start with your name?”
He took her advice and breathed in slowly and deeply, then exhaled long and loud. “My name is Reilly. Reilly McNamara.” The girl’s eyes shot to her mother, but Brigid remained focused on Reilly without the slightest change in expression. “I have no idea where I am or how I got here.”
“How did you escape after the Deceptors began to torture you with their lies?” Lottie asked.
“Deceptors? What’s a Deceptor?”
“Oh, dearie me,” Brigid said, shaking her head and squeezing his hand. “This is worse than I thought. They have completely erased their identities from his mind.”
“No one has erased anything from my mind!” Reilly declared, and pulled his hand away. “The portal was supposed to take me to Tir Na Nog. Am I in Tir Na Nog?”
Brigid looked at her daughter. They both sighed. “No, my dear, you are in Ireland,” the woman said. “Tir Na Nog is but an ancient legend. Though we like to believe it exists, no one knows for sure that it does.”
Reilly glanced around the room, looking for anything familiar.
“Other Stalwarts have had experiences with portals,” Lottie said. Reilly assumed she meant to sound encouraging, but then her voice lowered. “Our family has not been so lucky.”
Nothing was making sense, but he pushed on. “Lottie said your family could be in more danger with me here. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t want to cause any trouble to your family.
“You’re no trouble, dearie,” Brigid smiled. “Now where did you say you come from?”
“I live near Seattle. In Washington.”
“Aye, the coastal settlement discovered just before the turn of the century.” Brigid leaned in a bit closer. “That’s such a long way to travel—and through a portal, you say?”
“The turn of the century?” Reilly said, his voice cracking. “What year is it?”
“It’s 1896.” Lottie frowned. “What year do you think it is?”
Reilly breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. He released the air slowly before he looked at Lottie again. “It’s 2015. As I said, I found a portal in the library. My dog came with me, but I can’t find him.” Without warning, his breathing became shallow and he began to hyperventilate. “My dad died … in a sailing accident a few months ago … I thought I’d find him here … this can’t be happening.”
The room started spinning. He saw Lottie leave and then return with a mug in her hand. “Take a sip of water,” she said. He took the cup and gulped down the cool liquid.
“My friend, Eilam, left for no reason ... ” His dizziness increased. “And my dog is lost. I don’t know ... what to do.” His head drooped to his chin and he blinked rapidly, trying to stay awake.
Reilly drifted off as he heard Brigid’s soothing voice. “Poor thing.” Then she added with conviction, “The Deceptors have already begun the Detachment Process.”
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