Enda

When six-year-old Enda is pushed out of his Grandmother’s wake and into an adventure of grand proportions.

Enda ran his finger over the crack in his grandmother’s clay cup. She had pressed the knotted design herself along the narrowed neck before he had been born, but when he turned three years old he added the crack.
He felt guilty for stealing the cup from her possessions beneath the table where they laid out her body, but surely she wouldn’t miss one cup in the Otherworld. He would miss her, though.
His back felt the cold wood dock underneath him through his shirt, and his legs propped up against the stone wall of their house. Enda tilted his head back. This way the lake that reached their dock looked like the sky--- and the sky looked like the lake. He held the cup up against the sun that hung just above the mountain peak to pretend the cup was bigger. When he turned the world upside down, it didn’t seem strange to be confused anymore. Not at the stories of his grandmother. Not at the relatives gathered in his home who shouted above each other. Not at the druid who whispered directions into Grandmother’s ear. And not at how his grandmother’s spirit would make it out of the house when herds of people kept blocking the doors and the windows so they could say goodbye to her body.
The thought of his grandmother not making it to the Otherworld in time made Enda want to kick against the stones and scream, but his mamma had asked him to be good. She had to focus on their family right now.
“Enda boy. Please come inside; I can’t keep checking on ya out here.” His mamma leaned around the corner. He tried to hide the cup on the other side of his leg, but his mamma cocked her head, her dark curls all falling to one side.
“Do ya want Grandma to miss her chance to the Otherworld because she’s wanderin’ around looking for her favorite cup?” She stuck out one demanding hand, and the other fisted on her hip. Enda sighed, let his legs fall to the side, and rolled so he could stand. Finding the crack with his finger one last time he put it in her hands.
“I just thought I could keep one.” Enda scraped the bottom of his shoe against the wood so the leather made a soft scuff-scuff-scuff. Mostly, the crashes of talking from the house drowned the soft sound of it out. Enda wanted to scurry up on the table inside, waving his arms big like wings, and tell everyone they needed to go home.
“I’ll tell ya what,” his mom said, bending down so that her eyes were the same height as his eyes, “I’ll give this to ya to keep safe, but please take this back to Grandma. She loved this set very much.”
“Will you stay outside with me?” Enda wrapped both hands around the cup, trying to be very careful.
A strange look crossed his mamma’s face- like she wanted to cry. But he didn’t know why staying outside would make her cry. She stroked his dark curly hair and kissed his cheek. Usually, he liked that, but now it made him feel sad, too.
“I’m sorry Enda boy. I have to be inside.”
Enda held the cup close to him as he watched his mom guide another guest into the house. He did want to keep it forever. But what if Grandma got stuck here in this world looking for this cup because of him, just like his momma said? Enda scrunched his face. It wasn’t fair he couldn’t keep even one thing of hers, but he would put the cup back.
In the distance, quick bursts of a swan’s squawks interrupted Enda’s thoughts. At first, it only added to the other sounds Enda wished he could get rid of, but the honk punched Enda’s ears again and again. It didn’t seem right. He looked out over the lake, trying to find the swan. In a patch of reed at the far shore its white head reached just high enough for Enda to see it. The swan’s wings spread, flapping, but it didn’t move from that spot.
“Strange swan,” Enda thought and wiped his running nose on the back of his sleeve. He walked to the opened door and stepped right into the noisy front room. The swan’s cries still carried over on the wind.
Enda rocked back and forth, one foot inside his home, and the other on the dock. He needed to return his grandmothers cup, he wanted to, but what if the swan was hurt? He looked back- the swan hadn’t moved from the spot in the reeds. He would be quick, he decided and dove inside to put the cup back. There a sea of hips and legs knocked into Enda as he waded through them, their drinks sloshing over the rim of their cups and landing on Enda’s shoes, seeping through the lace holes and making the bottoms sticky. From the middle of the room, he still couldn’t see his grandma. Enda huffed, and fiddled with the cup. He didn’t want to spend too much time trying to get to the wake room. They wouldn’t make space for him. The swan still needed help. The cup would have to wait.

Enda pushed his way back out. A small hole at the base of his home where the stones had crumbled away made a space just big enough for the cup. Enda set it inside and covered it with leaves. He would be right back, then he would give it back to grandma.  
With one cold, deep breath he ran down the dock to the shore. Enda dipped his foot into the lake as it lapped up onto the dirt. Winter water filled the holes of his leather shoe. He shook the water away. It would be faster to swim straight across, but it was too cold.
He would never be able to walk to the swan and be back home in time. Once his grandmother had walked with him as far as they could before the sun went down. They didn’t even make it to the other side of the lake.
Momma kept their curragh upside down on the edge of their wooden dock, the oar stored inside. He could push the boat out, free the swan and be back before his mamma even checked on him. He was strong now, and big enough to handle it. He could free the swan from the patch of reeds. It would at least take him away from the house and his worry over Grandmother.
When Enda stepped into the boat it rocked to one side then the other, almost knocking him off balance, but he bent his knees and waited it out. He knelt at the front and pushed through the water with the paddle. His arms shook from it. He knew that if his hands got too tired, the oar would slip out of his grip and be lost to the dragon of the lake. They would never be able to get it back, and his mamma would be really angry then.
By the time he made it to the swan his arms, shoulders, and back ached. He looked back at his home, it seemed much farther away than he thought, and it made a nervous sort of monster grow in his belly. But the bleating of the swan became more frantic.
Enda pushed the boat through the water until it scraped the shore, got out, shoes sloshing in the water, and pulled the boat up safely on to the shore. Then he waded through the water, pushing reeds out of his way to make a path to the swan.
The swan spread its wings and honked so loud that Enda brought his hands to his ears. Its wings reached longer than any grown-ups arms and flapped so hard that Enda stumbled backward.
“I want to help you,” Enda yelled over the sound of the swan. He put out his hands, blocking his face from the beating wings. “I want to help!”
The swan, with it’s necked stretched up towards the sky, looked at him with one dark eye. Enda thought he saw a tear running down its face. Pushing his way closer, Enda touched the swan's chest, “Poor thing,” he said, just the way he had heard his grandma care for others, “I’m here now.”
The swan went still.

Looking at the swan looking back at him, Enda thought of his grandma.

“Swans look beautiful,” she had said to him one night on the dock, “But be careful around them.” She tapped his nose and winked at him, then they watched the lake and the family of swans swimming there. “They need their own space, understand? They can get grumpy when things aren’t just the way they like them.”
“Like mom?” Enda had asked her. She just laughed and patted his head.

This swan was certainly beautiful, but it seemed kind enough. Just scared.  Its neck arched, trying to watch as Enda looked around for what could be trapping it, bleating softly as Enda’s hands moved closer to its foot. Exposed roots of some lake plants tangled around the swan’s foot. Enda knelt down, knees soaking in the cold lake water.  He bit through the roots, grinding his teeth and tearing them apart. The roots fell away, and, feeling the freedom, the swan lifted itself into the air, landing gracefully by Enda’s beached curragh. Bobbing its head and trumpeting, it sidestepped on the pebbled ground in a way that made Enda think of dancing.    
Pride swelled in Enda’s chest. He didn’t even care that his knees went numb. He laughed on the way to the boat, but when he began to pull it into the water a soft, trumpeting voice called to him.
“Thank you for saving me, Boy.” A voice came from the beak of the swan. Enda locked eyes the swan’s beady black ones. He waited, body still poised to pull the boat, for the voice to come again.  
“Could you help me again?” The swan stepped closer to Enda. That time Enda checked the swan from tail feathers to beak. It looked like a swan but sounded like a lovely woman’s voice.
“Yes, I’d like to,” he said. Mostly he wanted to her the swan speak again, to see for sure if he had heard what he thought he heard. The swan waddled quickly to him.
“My name is Mave. I used to be a princess,” the swan said. She came so close that her beak almost touched his nose.

Enda let go of the rope to his curragh. “A real princess?”

The swan bobbed her head up and down. She had a hard time standing still. She moved in a small circle around herself, and then rustled back towards Enda. It made him feel jumpy, too.
“When I grew too wise to listen to my stepmother’s lies, she called me insolent and she cursed me. She swore that in this body no one would ever listen to my cries as a swan. Until now she spoke the truth. You must be a smart and thoughtful boy. You didn’t have to save me, but you did anyway. Will you help me again? If you can’t help me, I don’t know if I will find anyone else.”   
Enda looked back to the house on the far shore of the lake. Family members still spilled in and out of the house. Surely his grandmother still laid out on the table. If his grandmother stood next to him now she would do all she could for this swan. Now he would in her place.
He puffed out his chest and put his fist on his hips. “How can I help?”
The princess rustled her feathers, taking two wobbly, webbed steps closer to him. “There’s a tale of magic water kept in a golden bowl that can change me back into a princess. The Queen of the fairies keeps it in her castle ballroom. But the dragon of the lake guards her castle gates. I can’t fight him. I can’t pass him.”
He turned and broke a long piece of reed and with the pointy end, he showed the princess swan how well he handled a sword, and what he would do to any dragon who tried to stop him. “Nothing is too dangerous for me,” Enda crowed.
She honked a laugh. It made him laugh too.
“You’ll need a better sword than that, brave knight. A warrior’s helmet too.” The swan cooed at him. Enda had never seen a monster in real life, he thought suddenly.
“How will I find the castle gates?”
The swan stretched her neck to the far west part of the lake. “You need to dive to the bottom and walk across the lake floor, following the red light of the setting sun. Then you will find the gates.”
Enda thought about his cold knees and shoes. His family told him never to go swimming in cold water. But the cold could not feel as bad for him as not ever seeing home again would for the swan. He would bear the cold.
“I don’t know how to walk on the bottom of the lake,” he said.
“I have the power to give you a blessing, just for tonight.”
In one swift motion, the swan stretched her neck to the reed in his hand, tilted her fine head and dripped one tear on the broken reed in Enda’s hands. Then she did the same to the cloth of his shirt. Before he even felt it seep through the fabric on to his skin, a brightness buzzed all around him. The reed in his hand burned, and grew in size and weight, each particle of it glowing like tiny fireflies. Enda wanted to see the glowing orbs more closely, but his vision blurred momentarily as something formed over his eyes. The visor of a helmet glittered in the sun. The weight of it pressed down on his head where nothing had been just moments before. In his hand, the broken reed turned to a spear- thick, and sharp. He jabbed the spear forward while the other hand steadied the back of his helmet. Cold fabric tickled his ankles as he stepped into the jab. Surprised, he looked down and saw a shimmering blue knight’s dress. The spear, the helmet, and the knight’s dress were all real. They were heavy. They belonged to him. Enda’s cry of excitement echoed off the waters and the mountain.
The swan tucked its feathers in close to her body, looking Enda over. “This is the water-dress of Brian, one of the three sons of Turenn, and his helmet of transparent crystal. Legend claims he used these to walk under the green salt sea. Together these magic infused relics will help you face any challenges that wait for you at the bottom of the lake. Now you must hurry. If I do not have the bowl by the time the full moon sits in it’s lowest place in the sky, we will not be able to break the curse.”
Enda gave the swan a big bow, the way he always imagined a hero would, and said in his most grown-up voice, “I will get thee the bowl of water, and you will be a princess again. I swear it.”
As he pulled his curragh into the water and paddled west, he thought of his mamma. He ought to tell her about his quest, but what if she kept them there, called him a child and ordered him to be good? What would he do in their home where his mom kept to the guests and the guests kept to his grandmother, and no one let him help with a single thing?
No. Here he could do something. He could make his grandma proud. Here he wasn’t a child who needed to be good, he would be a warrior, with a real warrior’s armor. He could help this swan, and when he came back, Grandma’s spirit would be ready to depart safely. He would be there for that.

Enda didn’t feel his body ache from paddling like before, and he already made it to the middle of the lake.
As he looked over the edge of the curragh, though, the monster in his stomach turned over itself with sharp claws. Momma and Grandma didn’t let him swim alone.
Enda couldn’t see the swan now, but he imagined he could hear her panicked honkings again. He had to be brave.
Enda filled his cheeks up with air and swung one leg over the curragh. When he tried to get the other leg off, his grip slipped and he landed back first in the lake. Ice cold slaps of water rose over his head. The spear in his hand and the helmet weighed him down. He tried to kick himself above the water, but the harder he kicked the further the surface seemed. The waning evening light stretched its short fingertips to him but didn’t reach.
In the same instant, he watched bubbles of air float above his head he also thought of his grandma’s cup tucked away under a damp pile of leaves. Why did he jump off the edge of his curragh? He was just his momma’s little Enda boy, he wasn’t a warrior. His chest hurt, his head spun and even though he knew he shouldn’t open his mouth under water, his body did it anyways. He took in one big gulp of water-
     -and it turned into air in his mouth. He took in another, a fresh breath of air, and then another as his heart slowed it’s pounding.
The knight’s dress really did let him walk under water.
Enda punched his free hand through the water, then laughed at all the little bubbles that exploded there. He gave in to the weight of his armor and let it drag him to the bottom. There only shadowy outlines of the plants and stones could be seen. Enda squinted, he couldn’t even make out where his curragh waited above him. To the left and right rocky mounds seemed to move and reform.
He needed to find a starting point, a direction to head.

“Get to a higher point,” his grandmother had taught him. The memory made her feel closer to him than she had in the days of her wake, and he smiled while he scrambled up one of the slippery boulders with moss and silt. Enda had to try several different holds before his fingers found secure holds and he could launch himself further up. When he found a perch, finally, the shadowy floor of the lake spun out before him. A faint red glow blinked to the side of his vision. He turned to catch it more clearly, but it very quickly grew into bright glowing orbs, orbs rushed towards him, growing ever so enormous by the second. Large orbs that became small specs in comparison to the jagged teeth of the Lake Dragon.

She swam at him with such ferocity that the water churned, sucking him off his spot. Enda lost his balance and slipped on the rock, falling backward in slow motion. The dragon, however, didn’t move slowly at all. Before he could right himself, the great beast turned herself in the water coming for him a second time. Enda’s helmet shifted in the fall, covering his eyes, and when he righted it his spear dropped from his hands. Enda let it land in a cloud of silt. He wanted to be as far away from the dragon as he could. He kicked off the rock clumsily, and it propelled him a short length. From behind the dragon, whipped her tail around and caught him in it. The scales slithered around him, forcing air from his lungs. Her red eyes never left Enda. She crashed her teeth down on Enda’s head. So tight was her hold on him, he didn’t even have breath enough to scream, But the clang of fang on metal rang out once and then a second time.
A frustrated growl reverberated through the water. Not a single fang pierced through To Enda’s skin. The Helmet the swan princess had blessed him with stayed true. Adjusting her attack, the Dragon loosened her grip just enough that Enda wiggled free, kicking back to the floor where he reunited with his spear. When the metal met his hand, he swung it around. The tip sliced the dragon’s scales. A pained roar erupted through the water, and the dragon’s eyes flashed. With two swipes of her clawed fins, the dragon propelled herself away from Enda and into the shadows. Enda looked at the spear. He patted the cold metal of his helmet. He had done it. He defeated the dragon guard of the fairy castle. “This must mean the gate is close by”, Enda thought and hurried forward. His shoes pushed through the soggy sand toward the direction the dragon came.
Hidden in the shadows, an iron gate became visible as he marched closer to it. The bottom of the gate seemed lodged in rocks and plants that tangled up around it. Cold to the touch and stuck solid, no matter how he pushed or pulled the rungs of the gate, it would not open.
“A key?” Enda wondered, and looked down at the rocky bottom to find one. As he did he caught a glimpse of a red glow behind him that made his stomach twist, then the sound of the hissing dragon as it rushed towards him with its mouth opened. Enda wouldn’t be pushed off guard this time. He planted his feet, anchoring them in the sand, and twisted his spear overhead as he pivoted towards the open chasm of teeth hurtling towards him. As he turned, the edge of the spear scraped across the gate. The sound of it rang through the water. Enda yelled, releasing a burst of anger that felt so much bigger than him. As the dragon descended on him, he leaned into his own strike. His spear sank into the dragon’s red eye, the light of it dimming, blood lifting into the water like a smoky cloud. The roar of the dragon rattled Enda’s bones, but he yanked his spear out for his second attack. Before he could pull back his arm the gate began to hum. The place where Enda’s spear had scratched its surface pulsing, and as it hummed its hinges turned against the rocks and the plants, slowly opening.
A current of water pulled Enda through the gates, away from the dragon, and spit him out the other side where Enda landed on his rump not in the water at all, but in warm sand, sputtering. Enda grabbed his spear and scrambled to his feet- the surprise would give the dragon her chance to finish Enda off. But where he expected to see her come charging through, a rock wall squealed shut.
   His clothes dripped as his fingers pressed down on coarse sand and small white rocks. A gentle breeze dried the small hairs on the back of his neck. Enda looked around at this strange place he’d been pulled into. The shore he sat on met no waves but the edge of a rocky wall. The same wall, Enda realized that had once been under the lake. Behind him, a forest of trees full of green leaves and flowering fruit sat a short distance from a grassy, green meadow.
From the darkness of those trees Enda heard a voice, or at least he thought he did. He took a step closer, tilting his head, so maybe he could catch the sound better.
“Enda Boy!” He heard his grandmother’s voice.
“Grandma?” he called out, but he didn’t dare do it too loudly. Nothing could be seen past the large trunks and thickly sprouting branches. He crossed his arms, rubbing them, suddenly cold. This didn’t feel like a place for a little boy. Why hadn’t he told his mamma that he had left?

“Enda, move your bottom right here this moment!” His grandma sounded angry, Enda thought, but something else too. It made his heart race and he took a couple steps into the forest, scanning the few places where light penetrated the leaves.
“Grandma, come out. I’m right here.” His voice squeaked. A shudder shook him from his head to his toes. If Grandma was here she would give him a warm hug; he would ask her not to ever let him go. He thought he’d never get one of her hugs again. Then again, he also thought he had been underwater, and then not, and maybe she wasn’t here at all. What could he trust here? The confusion made tears prick at his eyes. The swan had never said how to get back.
“Grandma,” Enda called out, suddenly sure he needed her with him to free the swan. He just wanted to be with her.
As if the thought popped right out of his head, a light appeared at the edge of the forest. It grew and shrunk again, bobbing in place. The light pulsed softly. Enda tilted his head, squinting his eyes.
“Grandma?” he asked, but the bobbing light didn’t move. It felt familiar to him, somehow, and he took striding steps closer to it. One, two, then three, and the light burst from its place and disappeared. Enda ran to that spot, but not even a singed blade of grass looked singed. There was no proof the light existed. Enda bit his lip, looking around. In the darkness of the forest, the light appeared again farther ahead, tree trunks almost obscuring it.
“Enda boy,” his grandmother’s voice sounded like a soft whisper now, something he felt in his heart more than heard. Enda dashed through the trees, certain that if he could get to the light before it burst he would see his grandmother, he could hold her soft hands. He lept over roots and scrambled through bushes. The closer he got, the more a shaded form flickered in the light. Grandma! Enda got just close enough to touch the light.
It burst.
“Enda, have you been good?” Enda turned and the light switched directions, but still glowed for him further in the forest, waiting for him. He must be faster this time.
His grandma disappeared just before he touched her.
He put his hands on his knees, to catch his breath, but never let his eyes stop looking deep through the trees. Very slowly he scanned in one wide circle. If he walked in one direction, would he find it, or lose it? As he turned again to decide, he realized that he didn’t even know which direction he had come from. He couldn’t see sand or the giant gate. He couldn’t even see the sun through the cover of leaves. But no light.
Enda kicked the base of the thick tree next to him. The leaves didn’t even quiver. He kicked it harder, then he kicked it with the other foot. He yelled and kicked it until it hurt his knees. His grandmother had been here, but now she was gone. She didn’t even say goodbye.
He hadn’t either. Enda ran off to play that night, his grandmother wrapped in her blanket, her mom warming up soup for the three of them. He didn’t want to wait; he had treasures to find. His grandma had called out for him to be safe, but he let it carry off on the wind without even looking back.
She had been there, and then she hadn’t.
She left him, and now he had no way to get home. The swan would be never be a princess again.
“Why won’t you come back?” Enda called out to his grandma, wherever she was. What would the warriors in one of her stories do?
“You’re supposed to help me!” he called out. He felt angry at her. He never got angry at Grandma, but she never left him before.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t good,” he whispered. “I’ll be good now, just please grandma help me one last time.” He turned in a circle again, but the light still hadn’t reappeared.
“You are my little warrior. My little Enda boy.”

Enda whipped around. This close he expected the light to be warm, like a fire, but it didn’t feel like anything. He expected to see Grandma, and though a shadowy form bobbed somewhere in the middle of the light, he could never seem to catch a good look at it.
Enda rubbed his hands, not trusting he could keep himself from touching the light, but he couldn’t lose it again. “I just want to help the swan princess. Help me?”

Though he heard no voice saying it, he felt words in his heart. “How can you solve this puzzle?”

Of course, he could get a sense of where he was by climbing the trees that pressed so tightly around him. But without her to lift him into the branches he would never be able to Enda chewed on his bottom lip.

Listen for the sounds of people. When she had taken him out into the forest, and he worried he would never find his way home, she told him that someone would always come looking for him, he only had to be still and listen.  

There wasn’t a person around. The only one left to come looking for him- his mom- would never find him here. Even with as noisy as he thought they had been, there would be no way he could hear his house-cramming family now. Enda never imagined he’d ever feel sad about that, but now he did. What other things could he listen for? The sound of water. That could lead him back to the gate. He needed to find the castle, but at least at the gate he could start over and smarter this time. He would make his grandma proud. He closed his eyes and listened really hard.
In the distance, a tinkling sort of sound floated to him.

Enda opened his eyes and stared at the light still in front of him. “Is this it, will this take me to the castle?”

The orb didn’t change. Enda listened again, was it laughter? Or was it music? He had to decide if he would follow it. What if he did and the light, his grandma, never appeared again? He reached out and put his hand just on the outside of the brightness, grateful it didn’t burst. He wanted to ask it to follow him, to stay just a while longer.
“Thank you,” Enda said. For the last time, the light burst.
Enda ran towards the sound, stopping every now and then to concentrate on where it must be coming from. When Enda couldn’t run any longer, he noticed the trees had thinned around him. The tinkling music chimed all around him. The air smelled like flower petals.
Branches and leaves crunched under his heavy steps so he tried to walk on tiptoes, moving so a tree always stayed between him and whatever might be ahead. Just a few steps and he found the source of the music. A meadow full of fairies dancing to their own laughter, and the sound of tiny harps. They wore bright fabrics in yellows and purples and reds that flowed when they moved, their hair twirled around them. They held blades of grass in their hands like streamers that twisted and flowed around them in loops, and as the grass unfurled they tumbled laughing a tinkling laugh.
Enda was entranced. As he watched them dance, he thought they turned into flowers and then back into fairies. He wanted to touch them, to see if they disappeared like the ball of light had. He wanted them to dance on his fingertips to see if their shoes tickled. He stepped out from the cover of the foliage and into the meadow. The light cracking of leaves under his leather shoes made the fairies freeze and turn their heads in his direction, eyes wide with fear. Before he could reach out to stop them, they darted under leaves, behind pebbles, and into rotted logs. Just like that, the meadow emptied and stilled as if there had been no fairies to begin with. Except for one, who stood tall on a branch that stuck out from a tree into the meadow. She wore a dress like the burnt red leaves of fall and a crown of gold wire on her head.
“I know why you’re here, Enda,” she called in a chirping voice, then stomped her foot on the branch, making the leaves quiver. Enda watched, amazed, as the rest of the fairies stepped timidly from their hiding places in response, heads down or turned away from Enda. The fairy on the branch, the Queen, lept from the branch and fluttered to face him. When she flew within snatching distance, she said, “Your helmet and spear scare my subjects. There’s no need for them here. Leave them in the meadow.”
Now that she hovered closer, Enda could see the beautiful features of her face, her fierce eyes, and opal skin. Enda dropped the spear on the soft, carpeting grass. He lifted the helmet off his head and let it roll from his fingers. The Fairy Queen smiled at him then flew once around his head. He tried to keep her in his sight but made it all the way around so fast that it just made him dizzy. All at once, the rest of the fairies joined her in the sky, their laughter and singing filling the air once more.
“You can have your golden bowl water, young Enda,” the queen laughed from overhead. “But, only after you dine with us first.”
The fairies cheered and made a bobbing, colorful line that threaded through the trees deeper into the forest. The queen gave one wave to Enda, beckoning him to follow, before joining her subjects. Enda felt a giggle bubbling in his chest. But, stepping forward, he felt strange not taking his helmet and his spear with him. What if he needed them? He hesitated for a second, looking at them glittering in the sun in the meadow. If he left them here, would he ever see them again? Then, letting the fairies put that much more distance between him, he remembered his grandmother’s voice and wondered if he would ever hear that again.
The sound of the fairies grew softer and softer. He couldn’t stand here wondering any longer. Before he lost them he ran into the depths of the forest until the line of fairies sang over his head.

No stone or gem had ever shone as brightly as the Queen’s castle built into the trunk of a grand tree that grew out of a split in a rock. The walls only reached his knees. Enda’s hand would never fit through the front door, let alone the rest of him.

The queen landed gently on his shoulder while her court flew about around him. She whispered in his ear, “We’ll have to make you the right size first.” Her whisper tickled, but he didn’t wiggle for fear of squishing her. That tickle spread down his neck and his arms and all the way to his toes. Enda couldn’t stop giggling. When he finally caught his breath, he looked up and the castle had grown so he had to tilt his head all the way back to see the tallest spires. The doors alone now looked taller than his house.
“Call the bard! Call the jesters!” The queen twirled like a leaf on the breeze. “tonight Sir Enda dines with the fairies!”
Magnificent cheers erupted all around Enda. Bubbling harp music pulled them into the castle, where fairies in red dresses laid out fresh petals for the queen. Fairies flooded into the ballroom, where their flower dresses furled and unfurled to the rhythm of the music. Long golden tables set with jeweled dishes help glorious piles of food. In the middle of the display, where Enda expected to see the grandest dish of all, the court presented the cracked, clay hand pressed cup his Grandma made instead. It was plain in comparison to the fairie’s dishes, but Enda couldn’t take his eyes off it. With sap-slow steps Enda let the music of the festivities fade into the background and moved to the cup. He tipped the cup towards him and a golden liquid came right to the brim. When fairies passed by, they bowed their heads and whispered reverently before dancing on.  
The fairy queen, who stood at eye level with Enda now, pulled his hand, suggesting he step away from the table. It pulled at his heart; he wanted to know how the cup moved from the safe spot in the wall of his house to the Queen's table? Most of all he wanted to touch it to see if it was real.

The Queen’s thin fingers cupped his chin and turned his head towards her. When his eyes could no longer see the cup, she spread the edges of her beautiful dress and curtsied.
“May we dance?” She smiled and Enda nodded. He would ask her about the cup, about when he could have it back. As she led him in a lilting dance, spinning them around the room, the colored windows, bright court clothes, the gleaming table all blurred at the edges of his vision.
“You must be brave to help someone you don't know, Enda.” The fairy queen smiled at him. Enda’s cheeks felt warm; he had never been complimented by a queen before.
“Can I have my cup now- so the swan can be safe?” Enda’s voice came out a whisper. If the queen heard it over the music she didn’t say, so Enda cleared his throat and tried again. “I wondered- if you don’t mind me asking- if you had the bowl and knew the swan needed it, why didn’t you give it to her?”
“Silly boy, just because something seems it could be easily solved, doesn’t mean that it is so,” The queen’s tinkling laugh made Enda smile, but something nibbled at his heart that made the smile feel like it didn’t belong on his face.
“Could you not give it to her because of the dragon? Does she trap you here, too?” Whatever trapped the Queen so that she couldn’t even free herself despite all her magic, would certainly keep him here forever as well. Was anything he had done to this point enough?    
“Maybe” She shrugged. “Maybe I’m trapped just as you trapped the cup in the hidey-hole. Just as you were trapped on the dock. Just as your momma is trapped with her family. Just as the swan is trapped. If things are where they must be, does that mean they are trapped? Or are they free?” As they spun around and around her dress flowed in ripples around them both. The music played faster and faster as they moved. All the colors of the fairie’s clothing flashed too quickly. He riddled through her question, trying to focus, but he couldn’t understand one bit of what she asked.

“I heard my grandma calling me. Is she stuck here too?” His heart squeezed, remembering the sound of her in the forest. If she stayed here, she would never make it to the Otherworld.

“Oh little one, you worry too much for someone so young. But, you fight like a true warrior. I could use someone like you on my guard. You go on adventures every day. Doesn’t that sound like fun? Not a single of my guards has ever defeated a dragon.”

Not a single one? Enda’s eyes grew wide as pride swelled in his chest.

“I could order armor to be made just for you, a sword just for you. Can you imagine it? Your grandma would be so proud.”

“She always told me stories of adventures,” Enda said, wondering what it might be like if one of those stories had been about him. How wonderful would that be?

“So you’ll stay here with me then?” The Queen smiled. She tightened her hand on his shoulder. Perhaps she didn’t mean to, but it hurt him. Enda looked down at her hand, just as they spun past the table. They moved to fast for him to see his Grandma’s cup. He wanted to slow down. He wanted to think. He wanted to be a warrior… but the cup.

“I want to go home.” He said. It sounded like a whimper. He didn’t mean for it to, but he had never wished his grandma stood next to him more than he did right now. She could tell him what he needed to do. The grown-ups always did.

The Queen’s head pulled back, her brows pinched in the middle. “You don’t want to go back home Enda. To feel ignored? To live without your grandma? That sounds so lonely. You aren’t needed there. But look what you’ve already accomplished here? Look who you could become!” Don’t go home stay with me.”

Enda tried to pull away, but the Queen’s grip tightened on his shoulders. He stomped his heels hard on his toes.

She cried out., a tearing sound that broke through the merriments.  

The music, the dancers, the jester- they all came to a screeching halt. All eyes narrowed at Enda. The guards who posted at the doors of the ballroom drew their spears, ready to defend their queen.

Tears welled in Enda’s eyes. He had not come this far for this. He took a step back, but even a step away from the Queen meant a step closer to her subjects or the guards. Enda felt the loss of his spear and helmet now. If only he had kept them.

“I’m sorry.” He said, hands balling up in front of his eyes. “I’m sorry, but that’s my grandma’s cup. There’s a swan waiting for me. I want to stay, I do. But I wouldn’t be a hero if I did. I only came here to be a hero.”

Moments longer than any Enda had experienced ticked on while he waited for the Queen to send her guards to take her away.

Instead, she smiled as if she had won a game. “If we could get the cup to the swan? If I promised her safety would you stay?”

The swan would become a princess. He would be her hero, a true warrior just like in Grandma’s stories.

“I’m sorry,” Enda bowed his head and shook it. This could not replace his home. And maybe he could live as a warrior here, but he wanted to be Enda Boy there. With or without his grandma.
“Enda, I want to tell you something very important before you leave here.” The Queen bent over so that they met eye to eye. “Are you listening? Some souls in your life you can help. I believe you will do incredible things for them. There will also be souls in your life you won’t be able to help. Sometimes pure hearts have the hardest time understanding this. Know the difference between the two, and make peace with it” The fairy queen sighed and stroked his head in a way that reminded him of his mamma.

“One last dance then.” She said. And waved her hand above her head. In such a beautiful, magical place Enda should feel happy. But the music struck up in slowed drawn-out notes, and he couldn’t spin away from the sadness it all brought to him. He thought that getting away from his home, that becoming a strong warrior would make him feel better. But now he felt as if the world seemed so much bigger than he had thought. The queen pulled him along in a slow waltz. She smelled like roses and wet dirt, and the smell made him think of their lake. The bursting colors of the hall became fuzzy. The sounds came to him through a tunnel. Enda stretched his face, trying to stay alert, but as the fairie Queen spun him around one last time, his eyes finally closed.

When Enda woke up, he wore his clothes again. They were drenched through with lake water. The sun had almost disappeared and evening air smelled like something familiar, but Enda felt too tired to remember what. He lifted his head just slightly from the floor of the curragh. Every muscle in his body ached and even that much movement seemed beyond him. From what he could see, no spear or helmet or knight’s dress were with him in the curragh.
The boat tipped suddenly to one side, and his mamma’s face, the skin around her eyes red and puffy, appeared.
“Enda Mac Gearailt thank your lucky stars I found ya,” She pulled herself into the boat, her own dress soaked from the waist down, and she scooped Enda onto her lap and squeezed him so hard he would have complained, but this time he didn’t. A shiver ran through them, and only upon her lap could he see over the edge of the boat. The rope that tied the curragh off trailed loosely in the water, and they drifted just a couple lengths from their home. Not as far as the reeds that caught the swan, and not as far as the Lake Dragon. How had he ended up here? Where had the swan gone?
Enda’s mamma kissed him on his wet hair, the tip of his nose, and every bit of skin on his cheek.
“The curragh isn’t yours to take out! What in your right mind were ya thinking?” His momma bent her face so that their noses touched and he could see the fury in her eyes up close, but a tear, or maybe a drop of lake water dripped from her cheek to his. She pulled him close again. “Oh my Enda boy,” she muttered.
“I had to save a swan, Momma. She was a princess. No one could help her but me.” Enda tried to explain in between his mamma’s kisses and her squeezing.
“A princess swan?” His momma pulled away, just long enough to look at him and shake her head.
Enda thought he should explain more, but the cold of the water set in and his body began to shake. Curling up into her embraces warmed him to his core. His body ached more than ever now. Maybe now they could go home. Maybe Mamma would ask everyone to leave so he could sleep. Then his grandma could have plenty of space to find her way to the Otherworld.  
He wiggled on his momma’s lap until his legs wrapped around her waist, his arms wrapped around her neck and his chin rested on her shoulder. Her arms secured his place there, her cheek pressed against the top of his head. Enda wondered about the fairy queen and the warm ball of light in the forest near her home. He wondered about dragon lurking in the water on the other side. Had it all been a dream? If only he had held on to the spear and the helmet. Then he might be sure.
Like a low moan, keening started from the house. The mourning cries of women turned into wailings. Now Grandma’s spirit would find its place in the Otherworld.
Enda’s momma let go of him for the first time so she could row them back home, “It’s time to go.” Enda’s eyes went wide and he pointed behind her where a bend in the shore hid a part of the lake from them. She turned to see a great white swan, whiter than any others on their lake, drifting towards their curragh until it was close enough to put its head over the side and press it against Enda’s arm.
Enda’s momma leaned sharply away to keep them from the swan, but Enda reached out to stroke the swan’s beak anyways.

“It’s okay, momma.” Enda looked her right in the eyes, so his momma knew she could trust him. To his surprise she allowed him to guide her hand straight to the swans long neck, and when she felt the softness for herself he heard her catch her breath. Enda wondered if she ever touched a swan before, or if his momma ever danced with the fairy queen as a little girl? If not, he, his momma’s little boy, got to show his momma something new. His mom would see him as a big boy now, just like grandma always had.

His Grandma. Her cup. The swan only swam to their curragh here because she expected him to have the cup.  
The keening behind them grew louder. It echoed off the mountain walls. Enda thought at any moment it might shake the lake.
“Enda, if we want to say goodbye we need to go now. Ready?” his momma asked. He couldn’t say yes. He had sworn to help this swan. He had conquered the lake to do so, but he had come back with nothing more than memories for himself. Could he leave her here to say his goodbyes? But he couldn’t quite say yes, either. He never took his grandmother’s cup back from the Queen. He had been too distracted, he thought, guilt churning in his stomach. Could he go back and say goodbye, knowing that he lost his grandma’s cup? Knowing she’d certainly go looking for it?
As his momma turned to situate the oars, Enda curled up tighter in her lap. Tears stung his eyes. His adventure had been for nothing.  The curragh shifted far to one side, and then the other in the water as it turned. Before it came back to an even place, a solid thunk against the canvas side made Enda’s head popped up, and his mom turned to look. Turned upright, having slid under the wooden seat of the curragh, his grandmother’s cup hid perfectly intact and full of a shimmering golden liquid.  Enda’s heart pounded. He scrambled off his mother’s lap. He carefully so the curragh wouldn’t rock and spill all the precious liquid, but he could only go so slow in his excitement and some slipped over the rim of the cup anyways. When it splashed into the curragh it turned to water. With two gentle hands, Enda picked up the cup and dripped its contents on the head of the swan. The swan ruffled her feathers, specks of water beading and shooting off in all directions. She stretched out her wings, neck pulling towards the sky. Enda turned to his mother. He could feel his smile, so big it made his cheeks hurt.

“I did it, momma,” the whisper buzzed out of him.

“A princess?” He mother gaped. Enda turned back to the swan. She pressed the side of her head against Enda’s cheek. Enda wondered if she would miss her feathers at all. Without any more of a goodbye, the swan turned and swam towards the far shores where, Enda hoped, she would make her way safely back home. He leaned on the side of the curragh, waving frantically. The boat tipped sharply.

“Oh!” His mother gasped, and then laughed as she steadied herself. Enda liked the way it sounded. Happy. Lighter than she had for the last few days. She kneeled and reached for Enda again, setting him in her lap and nuzzling the hair on her head.

“I’m ready to go home now.” Enda laughed. He had his grandmother’s cup tightly in the crook of his arm. He would always miss it, but he knew now that he could give it back to his grandmother and still have her close by.  
Together, Enda and his momma brought the boat to shore. When Enda’s momma lifted him out, she didn’t let go of him again. Not when they went into the home to join the keening, not as she said goodbye to all their family, Before they nestled into bed, Enda caught a glow from the shore out of their window. A woman dressed in all white illuminated in the moonlight stood waving just to him.