Keelin was surprised to feel her cheeks were wet with tears. She hadn't felt herself start crying but it was like a part of her heart had cracked open. Her walls had been up for so long that she rarely thought of her childhood or how difficult her life could be at times. Her mother knew. She saw all of it. All of her struggles as a child. Her difficulty in relationships because Keelin always knew too much. She had a tendency to scare people without meaning to. It had taught her to pick her relationships wisely and to keep her bonds tenuous.
"Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Don't cry. I always knew this day would come, though I wish your grandmother had picked a less dramatic way of doing this, without sending that book to you. I love you no matter what. Even if you may have a touch of Grace O'Malley's ‘power’ in you. I mean, would you really be Irish if you didn't have a little extra something in you?" Margaret cracked a small smile.
"Mom, can you heal people? Do you have the same thing that I do?" Keelin was eager for answers.
"No, Keelin, I do not. My strengths come in other ways. I can read people's emotions from a mile away. Why do you think that I can close a sale in a heartbeat?" Margaret smiled her ferocious realtor's smile. Keelin nodded. It made sense, after all. A single mom straight off the boat from Ireland would have had to have an extra "something" to rocket to the top of the real estate empire in Boston.
"So, what does this mean for me? I don't know what to do." Keelin stared at the book.
"I don't want you to go. I really don't. In fact, I am terrified that I will lose you. But, if you want to learn about yourself, you may have to go to Ireland. If you want to ignore it and carry on here – I completely support that," Margaret said eagerly.
Keelin laughed. She knew her mother wanted to keep her safe, under her watch. The book hummed in her lap.
"I think that I might have to go."
CHAPTER 4
Keelin walked home, the book warm against her side. Her mother had held her close when they parted and whispered how sorry she was. Keelin mulled over all that she had learned on the walk through the busy rush-hour street traffic. She felt like there was a small pressure building deep in her stomach and she was unsure if it was from fear or excitement. Possibilities began to snake through her mind.
Once home, Keelin fixed a pot of black tea, one of the few things she was capable of making well, and curled up on her couch with the book. She blew softly on the tea that steamed from her favorite flower mug. The pressure built in her stomach and she got the eerie feeling that she was staring at her destiny.
"Now or never," Keelin murmured. Careful to set the tea far away from the book, Keelin leaned over and picked up the book. She gently eased it open and cautiously touched the pages only along the edges. A small envelope slipped into her lap. Different than the first envelope withthe cryptic "it is time" message, this envelope was unmarked. It was softly padded and held the same wax seal she had seen earlier. Keelin examined the seal more closely and thought that she was able to discern what looked like an old-fashioned anchor. She laughed softly as she thought about being a descendant of a famous pirate queen. With a little smile, Keelin peeled the seal back and found a stack of euros along with an address for Grace's Cove.
"Well, someone doesn't like to mince words." Keelin was amused at the direct route. She grabbed her iPad and googled the address, pulling up the image function on the map. A thatched cottage met her eyes, perched high on a hill. As she rotated the image, Keelin gasped. The view from the cottage overlooked stunning cliffs and the curve of a cove. In any other city, this would be prime real estate.
Keelin put her iPad down and returned to the book. Picking up the wad of euros, she quickly counted the money. It was more than enough for travel and some odds and ends.
"Well, let's see what this book is all about. I'm not about to get into any dark-magick stuff." One thing Keelin was certain of was that her life could use less drama.
Keelin carefully paged through the book. Hundreds of handwritten spells or poems covered the pages. Unfortunately much of the writing was in Gaelic and completely undecipherable to Keelin. As she flipped through, she noticed small sheets tucked behind each page. She opened them and found English translations of the Gaelic words. It was evident that someone had labored with this book. This was more than a gift. It was an offering.
Keelin began to examine the weathered handwriting that scrawled across the pages. It was almost as if they were recipes. Yet not. As she read through the ingredients, Keelin realized that most of these were not something you would eat. They were topical ointments and potions used for various ailments. There were even directions for cultivating certain plants under the light of the moon. Spooky, Keelin thought. Yet, for some reason she wasn't scared. Keelin paged through the whole book and found nothing in relation to the devil or dark arts aside from some sort of ritual for protection. From what she could see, this was a healer's book.
Her curiosity piqued, Keelin pulled out her iPad again. She researched "Celtic healer." As Keelin scrolled through the pages of information, she focused on a few key facts.
The Celtic healing tradition is one of the oldest paths and can deepen the connection to the divine energy, ancestors, and the endless renewal of the natural world. Healing enhances the physical body of the person receiving the energy and can resolve pains or injuries of the physical body.
The Celts werea rural people by choice, preferring to live close to nature because of their love of the land and their view of themselves as being the caretakers of Mother Earth. The Druids were the spiritual guardians of the Celts and made sure that each Celtic citizen led a healthy holistic lifestyle.
It iscommon to Irish tradition that families of healers are descended from someone who has been given access to healing knowledge. In Ireland, families of healers were often said to have obtained their knowledge from ancient books. Great legends and deep superstitions surround these infamous healing books.
With healing comesa word of caution. The seeking of wisdom, including the wisdom of healing, is a dangerous business; death may ensue if healing is used improperly.
Keelin shiveredand rubbed her hands up and down her arms. It appeared that there was a long and rich history of healers in Ireland. She wondered how certain people were touched with the gift while others weren't. There had to be more than just Grace O'Malley's bloodline. Was she really a healer? Was this her path? Her stomach took a small nosedive while at the same time her heart seemed to leap and sing. She shook her head. Before making any rash decisions, she needed to do more research. She padded into the kitchen and pulled out a packet of instant chicken soup. Pouring it into a cup, Keelin shook her head as she put the soup into the microwave. Some healer she was. She couldn’t even make soup on the stove. How was she to mix complex ointments and heal someone?
Blowing on her soup, Keelin padded back into the living room and curled up with a blanket on the couch. Her mind was spinning with the possibilities, yet her science mind scoffed at this "energy healing" concept. She neededto learn more about Grace O'Malley as well as the Chalice of Ardagh.
Quickly caught up in the rich history of Ireland, Keelin blinked hours later as her iPad battery died. She shook her head and stretched out her legs and arms. Sometimes she had a habit of becoming so engrossed in her research that the hours would slip by unnoticed. She thought about what she had learned. It appeared that Grace O'Malley was the original gangster. Not only did this woman marry twice, birth a child at sea, and murder hundreds of invaders who sought to take her lands, but she also forced political change for her country. Very little was mentioned about her healing powers, though many noted that she had an uncanny ability for anticipating potential threats and circumventing them. It was said that she disappeared when the end of her life came to a close and was never accounted for again. Keelin wondered what had happened to her.
The Chalice of Ardagh also had an interesting history. Though many details were given to the ornamentation and design of this intricate chalice, virtually nothing was known of its true roots. Keelin noted that many of the decorations on the chalice were of animals. It seemed to tie in nicely with the Celtic history of animism. Keelin wondered if a companion piece to the chalice was buried deep in Grace's Cove. The longer she thought about it the more she itched to grab her dive gear and spend the summer treasure hunting.
Keelin stared into space as thoughts raced through her mind. Was she a healer? What were these visions she had? Should she go to Ireland?
Exhausted, her eyes drooped and she fell into a deep sleep on the sofa. A man stepped into her dreams. With dark, unruly hair and blindingly blue eyes, he stared at her through the flames of a bonfire that shot up around them. His eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. Dark water rose up and covered her as she swam towards a glint of gold. Helpless, she couldn't reach it and was swept away, only to awake bathed in a cold sweat. Her heart hammered against her chest and she wiped her sweat-soaked hair from her face.
Keelin forced herself to take deep breaths and to calm the hammering of her heart. It was just a dream. It had been a weird day, she reminded herself. The book caught her eye. It was open where it had once been closed. She leaned over to look at the page that it had fallen open to. Written on it was a mixture of herbs to nurture true love.
"Cute. Real cute," she said.
