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A Tale of the Shapeshifters

Author’s Note

Please keep in mind that I am not a native Irish Gaelic speaker, nor do I live in Ireland. I have researched the Irish Gaelic language as well as the Dublin accent, but I am not fluent by any means. Moreover, this story is not meant to be 100% historically accurate but I do wish to respectfully and tastefully portray this culture and era. I do not mean in any way to disrespect the native culture of Ireland. Therefore, if you notice any major linguistic, cultural, or historical errors, please comment or send me a private message and I will fix them. Thank you.

~~~

Full Summary

Athena Everleigh is a curious lass living in Dublin, Ireland in 1905. Nearing her sixteenth birthday, she faces a choice: to either live the life her mother prepared for her, full of magic, forests, ancient tales, and shapeshifting — or to become the rising Dublin socialite her father wants her to be. It is not until she begins working in a castle for a mysterious man — Sir Claudius — that the answer becomes clear. But, he has a past all his own. And it is up to Athena to unravel it.

~~~

Part I — The Everleighs

~~~

Athena Everleigh never once accorded with the social graces of her family in Dublin, nor did she want to. Although her prominent father, Mr. Everleigh, encouraged her as a child to move in with her aunts and uncles and cousins, she delightfully argued to remain with her mother — in a small rural town on the coast of Ireland.
The town itself was not so far removed from Dublin, but the residing commoners were. Mr. Everleigh had agreed to live there when arrested by the natural charms of his wife, Mrs. Everleigh — who declared never to move from her hometown. Although not as radiant as some other Englishwomen he had courted while in London, there was some mysterious and earth-like grace about Mrs. Everleigh that reeled him closer to her.

Mr. Everleigh begged his London family to move to the small coastal town, as it apparently provided “fresh air” and “delightful countryside to gaze upon”. However, upon arrival, his sister, brother-in-law, nieces, and nephews, all decided to remain in the bustling city, what with its blossoming social sphere. Mr. Everleigh concurred, as he longed for Dublin, too.

It was the talk of the small town when prized Isolde Ó Broin became Isolde Byrne, then Mrs. Charles Everleigh. It was a pity for such a distinctly Irish lass to bear the name of an Englishwoman. A year later, more whispers arose when Mr. and Mrs. Everleigh revealed the name of their firstborn: Athena. As fond as Mr. Everleigh was of Greek and Roman mythology, his family in Dublin expected — though not altogether liked — the name Athena. But no one in the coastal town knew of his adoration of the Greek Goddess of wisdom and finesse during war; and Mrs. Everleigh seemed to like whatever Mr. Everleigh liked.

And it was partially due to this name — this odd, foreign-sounding name — that Athena did not belong in that coastal town of her mother’s family either. She was curious and observant because her mother took her for long walks outside — during which, she taught Athena about various types of flowers and their healing powers, as well as what each color of the sky meant. She was also keen and intelligent because her father taught her to read — unlike most children of the town.

The Everleighs continued to have more and more children — an even dispersal of boys and girls. Mr. Everleigh had wanted to give them more Greek and Roman names, but after observing how Athena had been bullied so by the other children of the town, decided against it. Instead, he gave them local names.

There was nothing for Mr. Everleigh to do in town besides finding a trade. Of course, there were social gatherings, but not ones he wished to partake in, as they were entirely separate from the ones in London. And as the years dragged on, his wife grew colder and colder towards him — not that her beauty or charm had diminished but rather her fondness for him had, if there ever had been any fondness at all. Mr. Everleigh detested life and living alongside his wife.

The only thing that gave him any rest of mind was knowing that his daughter, Miss Athena Everleigh, was growing to be a fine young lass. Never the most beautiful nor most popular girl of the town, but the brightest and certainly the most interesting. Boys danced with her not because they fancied her or wanted her for a wife, but because she would talk about the most intriguing and delightfully confusing things. Although she had been teased relentlessly as a young child, at one point in the prime of her girlhood, all townspeople ceased muttering about her oddness. They instead spoke of how one day a lad would fall madly in love with her and her not in love at all. Then debates would ensue as to whether she would turn him away or toy with him for years on end — almost as her mother had so many years ago with Mr Everliegh.

But there was one key detail about Athena and her mother which no one in the small coastal town — not even Mr. Everleigh — knew about. There were skeptics, of course, but that was only because the Irish were once greatly superstitious people. And at the turn of the 20th century, the number of believers, skeptics, and traditional people began to be outnumbered by the people who had been given a new name.

Chapter I — Milly, the Cat

~~~

“Oh, where is dat godforsaken cat when you need her?” the tavern keeper, Mrs. O’Dair shouted out, only to herself. “Milly! Milly!” She pushed a broom around the cellar of the tavern, whacking fat rats out of her way and straining her neck while looking for the conveniently missing cat. The old lady’s muscles began to ache and so she seated herself on the stairs leading down into the cellar, a bit weary from the strenuous activity. She could not see anything, save for beady red eyes every now and then. They would pop up, like fish popping up out of the sea on a cold, clear winter morning. It even smelled like the sea, like the boats in the harbor and the fishmongers selling their ware. Warring with those scents, the whole cellar reeked of rotten whiskey that had gone bad long ago, as well as table scraps left out for Milly. The cat would drag them back there, then leave them and the rats would come after them instead. But, then, Milly usually took care of the rats, too, so there’s that.

Mrs. O’Dair heard the faint sound of Milly’s fleshy paw pads hitting the tavern floor. She turned and, to her delight, the sleek gray cat was there. “Now den, dey’re all yours, lass!” The tavern keeper picked herself up and let Milly slip past her skirts, making sure she left the door ajar so the cat could leave whenever she was finished rat hunting.

Several minutes later, after some nasty growls and triumphant meows, an eyeball peeped out from behind the door. It was silvery blue, like morning fog not letting go of the sky. Three fingers then latched onto the wooden doorframe. The hinges creaked, and the fingers and the eye escaped back to the darkness.

Outside the cellar, the scent of steaming food and whiskey traveled through the air, replacing the foul smells of the inside. Mrs. O’Dair hummed to herself from the kitchen and pushed the broom. The people of the tavern chortled and used elaborate hand gestures to tell of their mucky, bloody fishing tales from the morning. Their fingers had mud and sea residue all over them, along with deep cuts and scars that glimmered in the light from the window. But the three fingers that reached through the door were clean as the rivulets passing through the forest.

A white figure streaked through the back of the tavern — lightning streaking through the sky, leaving only light footprints. A dress lay at the end of the hallway, where no one stood. She breathed heavily, rustling to get the dress on as quickly as she could. Sweat poured off her neck and back. The beige-tinted dress fit loosely, without a corset. Underneath the dress was a black and red cloak. The figure slowed her breathing, covering her mouth with one hand to force herself to breathe through her nostrils. She whipped the cloak around herself then tucked her golden-brown hair beneath the fabric.

Moving one step forward, the girl looked into the kitchen from behind the hall. She then peered into the tavern, where a slip of paper hung on its wall. In bold letters, it read:

WANTED — APPRENTICE AND HOUSEKEEPER

PAID IN GOLD

The girl slipped the hood of the cloak over her head, then snuck past Mrs. O’Dair and crept into the main hall of the tavern. She stayed close to the walls, keeping her head down low and walking at a brisk pace. Finally, she stretched her fingers to the tip-top of the slip of paper and began peeling it from the wall, when a man’s voice stopped her:

“I wouldn’t dare if I were you, m’lass.”

The whole tavern quieted.

She stood but a moment, her cloak facing the rest of the townspeople — then yanked the paper off the wall and bolted out the doors.

“Oy! Where is she goin’!” several men shouted out. A few ran after her: the ones closest to the door. They asked the people in the street, “A moment ago, did you happen to see a young lass run out of here with a cloak about her shoulders?”

“Ay!” a man replied. “Just now, I saw a young lass scuttle behind da tavern.”

Men and women alike gathered around the outside of the tavern to search for the mysterious creature, but when they finished scouting, the only things to be found were her clothes.

“Do you believe she might have been — “ an older woman trailed off.

“No one could’ve taken her garments off dat quickly unless dey were already loose,” several men agreed. “Besides, da letter’s gone, too.”

But no one saw enough of her to argue anything factual. After all, mysterious happenings in the town were a daily part of life — and had always been.

Chapter II — A Father’s Favorite

~~~

“Ma! Ma!”

Athena trotted through the tall grass, chasing after her mother.

Once her daughter reached her, Mrs. Everleigh turned around, put a finger to the girl’s lips, and gave her a stern look.

“Ma!” Athena attempted to say, prying her mother’s finger away from her mouth.

Mrs. Everleigh turned around again, facing the forest.

Athena let out a “Humph!” then stated, like a baby reading for the first time: “*Maidin mhaith a Máthair.”

Mrs. Everleigh pirouetted and caught her daughter’s eyes, then said so sweetly it ought to have been a song: “Dere, dat’s all dat had to be spoken, me lass.”

Athena smiled, her cheeks turning to rosy red apples.

“Now, what’s da story dis time?” Athena placed herself upon a nearby tree stump, then unruffled the wrinkles in her skirts.

“Oh, Ma! Look what I found!” the girl handed her mother the slip of paper.

Mrs. Everleigh’s eyes traced over it for a few moments. “And what exactly do ya plan ta do wit dis?” she queried.

“I plan to work, Ma! T’ink of it — all da gold in da world could be ours!” Athena squealed, kicking her feet through the grass in delight.

“Child, dere’s so much I still must teach you…”

“Ay, I know, Ma! But I t’ink I’m old enough now and know enough about how to talk da people! I can do some simple housework. Why, I’ve been doin’ it me whole life!” she giggled. “And den an apprenticeship! I’ll be studyin’ under Sir Claudius!”

“Sir Claudius?” Mrs. Everleigh gasped.

“Ay, read da fine print.” The girl trailed her finger down the page until reaching the very bottom. In tiny script — much tinier than the bold lettering up top — it was signed:

Sir Claudius, of Beochaoineadh Castle

“No, me lass, I won’t allow it,” Mrs. Everleigh concluded, as firm as a businessman declining a deal.

“What!?” The girl almost began to sob, her voice quivering and her lip trembling.

“I won’t allow it. You haven’t enough years ta understand.”

“I do so!” Athena retorted, reaching for the letter. Her mother crumpled it up and put it in the hem of her dress. “Ma! I’m almost sixteen now! I should be allowed ta work for me livin’.”

“You already live a fine life, me lass. Your Páthair makes sure of it.” She cupped the girl’s face. “I am content wit da life I lead, and you will learn to be content wit’ your own…. But I understand dat you are only tryin’ to help your family. You’ve benevolent intentions. Dat’s all any Máthair could ask for.” Mrs. Everleigh wiped away the girl’s tears. “I must be off ta feed da little ones now.”

“Ay, I’m sorry, Ma.”

“You’re forgiven, me lass.” And so she went.

~~~

The family sat around the fireside that night, as they did each evening after supper. Athena’s younger brothers and sisters sat nearer to their mother, while Athena perched at her father’s chair, letting him rub her head. He brushed his palm down her golden-brown waves for several minutes before she asked, “Father, won’t you read a story tonight?”

“Of course, my darling! But I’ve read all of them on the bookshelf already. Aren’t you bored with them?”

“No, Father, I could never bore of the stories.”

“Alright, darling.” He rose and traveled to the bookshelf near the fireside. Athena followed suit. She gazed over the bottom row and he the top, as he stood almost a head higher than her.

Mrs. Everleigh said nothing, only watching out of the corner of her eye while perching on the settee across from the fireplace.

“Now then, what about this one?” He lifted a blue book.

“No! We read dat one last week!”

“That one, my dear, that one,” he corrected.

“That one,” she muttered, tracing her finger over the spines.

“What about this one?” he asked, his lips tilting upward into a tired smile. He held a reddish-brown book with the pages falling out. “One of your favorites when you were little.”

“No, I’m older now so I needn’t bother with it.”

He chuckled. “If you say so, my darling.”

“You shouldn’t let da lass say such t’ings,” Mrs. Everleigh chimed in.

“Oh, but she’s almost sixteen now!” He picked her up and swung her around, as though she were a wee child. “She’s almost sixteen and pretty as a rose! It is time she had new books anyway! No more childish fables. I knew that’s what you really wanted, Athena Darling.” He pinched her cheek.

“You always know what I want, Father,” she giggled.

“Givin’ da lass what it is she wants will only spoil ‘er,” Mrs. Everleigh declared, louder this time and clenching her jaw tight. Her long brunette hair was in a braid as flat and clamped as her teeth.

Mr. Everleigh refused to listen. He only laughed alongside his favorite daughter — favorite child. They stayed up all night — him describing the plots and characters of some of the greatest literature ever written, and her picking out the ones she wanted. By the end of it, they had a list of novels he vowed to buy for her when he visited Dublin again. One by one, the other children went to bed, and eventually, Mrs. Everleigh did, too. It was then that Athena asked:

“Father?”

“Yes, my darling?”

“What would you think of it if…”

“If…?”

“If I began to work?”

“Work?” He laughed a deep belly laugh, throwing his head back. “Why would you work? It would only mar your pretty hands.”

She listened closely for her mother’s slow, sleeping breaths hailing from the master bedroom. Once she heard them, she whispered: “I thought it might help the family.”

“Darling, there is no work around here worth enough money to ruin your girlhood forever. Once you start working in this town, you never stop.” He crossed his arms, lifted his head, and shut his eyes.

“But Father!” she urged, “he pays in gold.”

Mr. Everleigh remained still for several moments, then unraveled himself. “Gold, you say?”

“Yes, Father.”

His face lightened. The bags under his eyes almost seemed to disappear before he sunk back into the chair once more. “No, no, it is still not worth it, Athena Dear. You are too young and too precious to me. Marry a wealthy man instead, so you never work a day in your life.”

“But weren’t you once a wealthy man?”

He might have smiled. “Once.”

“What happened?”

“Let’s just say that wealth has a way of disappearing in this town.”

“Woy is dat?”

“Athena, we must work on your pronunciation: that. And not ‘woy’ but ‘why’.”

“That. Why.”

“Better. Oh, it just does. Especially when you’re married to her.” She gazed into his dead brown eyes. “So, my final answer is ‘no’. I won’t allow it.”

She pouted, “That’s just what Mother said.”

“What Mother said?” He bit his finger, eyes chasing around the room. He, too, began to listen for her deep breaths. “You already spoke to her about it?”

“Yes, Father.”

“And she said ‘no’?”

“Yes, Father.”

Mr. Everleigh huffed. “Well, then, I’m not quite sure of what to do.” He looked at the poor girl, who began to cry. “Oh, darling, Father’s here.” Athena nuzzled into his chest and blew her nose in his handkerchief. “Now, what is it that you want to do? Hopefully, you do not want to be a flower girl or costermonger. Although, those would likely be the cleanest jobs….” He sat in deep thought while stroking her hair.

“Oi — Oi had the paper…”

“I, not oi.”

“I had the paper that advertised it, but Mother took it from me. Although, I remember it just as it said: ‘Wanted — Apprentice and Housekeeper … Paid in gold … Sir Claudius, of Beochaoineadh Castle’.”

“Beochaoineadh Castle…” He scratched his chin, looking off in the distance. “I thought it abandoned, but perhaps not. Hmph.”

“It’s not abandoned. I’ve heard people in town talking about it.”

“I’ve no doubt about that, my little adventurer.”

“And I want to work there as a housekeeper and apprentice.”

“Apprentice? Of what?”

“Whatever Sir Claudius teaches.”

“I must see to it that I meet this man — since my daughter will be working there.”

Athena perked. “Oh, Father, really?!”

“Of course, my darling.” She hugged him so tightly it almost strangled him.

“Thank you, Father. Promise you’ll keep it a secret,” she whispered, her silvery blue eyes as large as the full moon.

“I promise, darling.”

Mr. Everleigh stroked his daughter’s hair for a few more minutes until her breathing slowed to be in rhythm with the cascading waves of the nearby coastline. He then carried the girl off to bed.

~~~

* Maidin mhaith a Máthair — Irish Gaelic for “Good morning, Mother”

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