*****

Taog watched his charge bound out of the YMCA and head to her small bookstore just off the town square. He could see the vibrant red energy swirling around her, and smiled. Alycen was too serious by far, and rarely gave herself over to such passionate outbursts. She was such a solemn person, even as a child. Now she seemed radiant, like the man she had been speaking with. Taog’s eyes danced with a merry gleam. Perhaps this was the one. Perhaps this was the man to complement his charge. Her loneliness and isolation had grieved him and the Master.

He wondered if it was a sign of other changes. She was a woman grown now. And with every day that passed, she became more and more resigned to reject who she was. Her presence had been a vivid blue-white glow when she was a child. Back then, she would speak to him, and listen to him. They would play endless games together in the woods. For him, the games had a purpose: keeping her mind wide open and awake. Now he could see she was closing down. She was shutting out the world that she had once peered into with such intense youthful curiosity.

Perhaps this man would awaken her. Taog trotted behind her on the sidewalk leading up to the bookstore. Her steps were faster, more energetic than usual.

“Mommy, who is that man?” asked a little boy being dragged to get a pair of ridiculously uncomfortable dress shoes for his aunt’s wedding.

“What man? Look Jeremy, we have got to hurry. Mommy has a million errands to run today. Come ON!”

If the woman had seen what her son had seen, she would have probably been amused, at the very least. A stout, merry-faced older man with a ring of silver hair, and bright blue eyes, dressed in robes of blue and gray, was trotting doggedly after a slender blond woman. When the woman turned and unlocked the door of “The Secret Kingdom Bookstore” and slipped inside, the man passed straight through the door after her as if it weren’t there.


Taog was a bit startled to see another maor-righ awaiting them in the book shop. She was amber haired, with shining grey eyes and heavy green and red robes.

“Greetings of the day, Taog,” she said, for the maor-righ know each other by name upon sight.

“Merry meet, Ciara. What brings you here this day?” he asked, his brow furrowed. Ciara was a guardian, a treoraich, like himself, not a teachdaire messenger. If she had left her own charge to meet with him, there must be something of great importance in the wind.

“Your oileanach, Taog,” she replied.

“You are mistaken, to my grief, Ciara. Alycen of the O’Ryan has not undertaken to study the ways of the fianuis. I am still merely her guardian, not her teacher as of yet.”

“That must needs change, Taog. Her crossing of my charge this morning was no mean passing. Surely you must have seen that?”

“Aye, I sensed the great pull between them, and that it was not merely of the ways of earth,” Taog answered, a bit miffed that she was speaking to him in such a condescending tone. “Have you news beyond this, or do you abandon your charge at every passing of the ways?”

At this, Ciara pulled herself a bit taller and straighter, her rosy face flushed a bit. “My charge is a true Child of Earth. He is without the second sight, for the most part, and thus has always been of little interest to the sidhe.” Ciara sighed. “But he has just moved to a new home, and this home is situated upon a strong ley line. A ley line frequented by the baobh sidhe.”

Taog’s eyes widened at this, and he immediately felt sorry for his earlier harshness. This was a serious matter. What Ciara was saying, in effect, was that her charge had moved into a pathway used by the Fallen Ones, the ones who followed the Proud One down to Earth after the War. And without much use of his second sight, the poor man was like a toddler who had inadvertently run out into the middle of the interstate. Truly, their meeting could not have been a mere passing of ways. Much as Alycen had consciously fought her gifts, she instinctively avoided the Ways of the baobh sidhe. Ciara’s charge needed aid, and Alycen could provide it. If only she were trained to do so.

“And so, her Way is begun,” he said gravely.

“It would seem so,” replied Ciara. “And the sooner you begin her training, the better. I fear my charge has already attracted the attention of at least one baobh sidhe. I saw her slow her path as she passed him by, and she has been lingering and nosing around rather boldly, even in my presence. There is not much I can do. He prays infrequently, and hasn’t the senses required to know he needs my protection in order to pray for it.”

Taog nodded in sympathy. For all their power, there were a great many limits to what a maor-righ could do to protect their Children. It would help Ciara tremendously if her charge would pray to the Master for protection and strength. The Master would flood her with power and authority to deal with the situation. As it stood, her hands were effectively tied. Especially since the baobh sidhe had not openly threatened the man. And like as not, would not threaten him, as that was not their way.

“No. They lie, deceive, seduce. That is the way of the baobh sidhe. And because they obtain an invitation from the poor Child of Earth, they bind our swords before we can even unsheathe them.” Ciara had read his thoughts on his face, which was not unusual. Taog wore both his heart and his mind on his sleeve much of the time.

“I will do what I can to give aid, Ciara. I will at the very least ensure that she contacts him again. From there, we will simply have to follow the Master’s leading. It is all we can do. Now you must return to Connor, your charge. It will not do to let him wander home alone.”

At this, Ciara smiled. Poor Taog was far more Nanny than Teacher and Taskmaster. She had long since stopped thinking of Connor as a literal child who could not be left for a moment. It was not as if he were among the Lost. The Master was always with him. And Alycen was a Child of the King as well. Taog need not treat her as if she needed his constant care and attention. The Master could be trusted. The Master knew all. Still, he had a point. Her beloved Connor had wandered into dangerous territory. Ciara knew far too well what happened to those enthralled by the baobh sidhe, the traille. Theirs was a sad, painful existence, and while Connor’s eternal place was secure, his temporal existence could be rendered miserable. She did not wish that for him.

“I will return to Connor, good Taog. Thank you for your kind assurance. Blessed be the Master, and blessings be to you and yours. Good day.”

“Blessed be the Master, and Blessings to you and yours, Ciara.”

*****

Alycen glided through the book shop. This was her world, this little place. Her own Secret Kingdom of safety and peace. It was all she’d ever wanted in life. As a child, her escape from the dreary existence her parents insisted was all there was to life was books. She would crouch beneath the blankets with a flashlight, losing herself in the world of Narnia, of Oz, of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women and Laura Ingalls Wilder’s pioneer stories.

When she had finally graduated high school, she had shocked her parents thoroughly by receiving a full scholarship to the local university. They had believed that only the wealthy received scholarships. The fact that their eldest daughter had always received straight As and had graduated in the top three percent of her class was meaningless to them. Scholarships and a college education were for the rich; working class families did not receive such things. That was the way their world worked, and it had never occurred to them to think any differently. They were very nearly appalled, instead of happy, when Alycen had been awarded the prestigious scholarship.

So she had worked furiously on her studies, and spent every waking hour either at school or working one job or another, socking away every penny. And fortunately, her scholarship far more than covered the tuition at her local community college. So after five years, she had a Bachelor of Arts degree in English and Creative Writing, and enough money to start her own business.

And once again, her family insisted that she was crazy. She should take a nice safe job as a secretary somewhere with benefits. Preferably somewhere she could find a nice man to marry and settle down with. What use was an English degree, anyway, they asked. And opening her own bookstore? Insanity, that’s all it was. Pure insanity.

To her family, the fact that she had come up with an impressively complete business plan, and then used that and her considerable college savings to apply for, and receive, several grants designated for women-owned businesses, was an affront to their entire concept of how the universe was supposed to work. They didn’t take kindly to it, or to Alycen, who kept proving all their wisdom wrong.

They were sure, however, that they’d have the last laugh when her little fledgling business tanked. She would come running home to them, penitent at last for not listening to their sage advice. Oh, how they talked among themselves about how she would return in tears, and they would finally, perhaps, be able to talk some sense into that girl.

When the bookstore took off and became a huge success, it was the final insult. The snubs started slowly, subtly. When the family would have a get-together, they would “forget” to call her. Everyone assumed someone else called. The few family events she managed to get wind of and show up for, she found herself usually sitting in a corner, ignored by all except her irascible grandmother, Margaret.

Margaret was her saving grace in the family. She was the only one who believed in her. Of course, most of the family believed that Margaret was nutty as a bourbon-soaked fruitcake. That never mattered to Alycen. Granny Maggie was her heart—or possibly her spine. Whenever she considered giving up, knowing that she’d have to explain it to her rather intimidating grandmother would steel her enough to continue.

And now, things had settled into a nice, comfortable routine at last. Her family had faded into the background, which was probably for the best. Best of all, she had her beautiful, beautiful store.
The Secret Kingdom was what all those corporate giants tried to be, and didn’t quite make it.


When Alycen had been plotting and planning her bookstore, she had wanted a place that would be a refuge and a retreat for readers. The building that now housed The Secret Kingdom was previously a small department store. The three story building stood on the historic town square, facing the old capitol building. At the time, the building was owned by the attorney’s office that was located on the top floor of the building. The bottom two floors were occupied by a struggling antique shop. The antique shop, whose lease was up, was moving to a barn further out of town. They’d left the shop a mess and the attorneys were tired of dealing with it.

When Alycen had offered to purchase the building, and lease the third floor back to the attorney, he was uncharacteristically grateful. As it happened, he was nearing retirement in the next ten years, and was attempting to liquidate some of his assets in his estate planning. Selling the old, shabby building and leasing it on the cheap for his remaining years fit perfectly with his plans.