“…I can imagine,” he admitted in a strained voice. After a moment, he frowned. “With your tremendous power finally unleashed, I must be beyond frantic to have you returned to me. Being prevented from reaching you will make me merciless and unpredictable.” His frown grew more severe as he considered this.
Skye watched as he nibbled his full lips in a distracted, effortlessly sinful manner. She masked her distress over the strikingly familiar gesture. Ciaran had inherited so very much of his father – right down to the plump lips and natural sensuality. They were so terribly similar at this stage of Brandubh’s life, it was unnerving.
“My temperament will change with time,” Brandubh said. “My self-control and ability to feel will dissolve, but my motivation will remain the same.” He took her hands in his and waited for her to look up at him. “It is you,” he assured, staring into her eyes intensely as he swore, “You are my promise, Skye. And I will always do anything I deem necessary to keep you.”
Skye’s brow arched as she thought, that’s not creepy at all… Struggling to maintain a calm, ethereal appearance, she bit back a snarky reply about the recurring theme of ancient dudes taking a more-than-healthy interest in her.
With a sigh, she whispered, “Then you must trust me. Trust my word that I will speak with you when the time is right. That I will hear what you wish to tell me.”
Brandubh cut in and pleaded in a broken whisper, “Please do not ask this of me. I cannot bear it.”
Skye shook her head she stressed, “If there was any other way, do you not think I would jump at the opportunity to rewrite history? To save the hundreds of thousands who will die before my time comes? To spare the lives of my own family? To spare you the changes that await you? To spare myself a decade of brutality?”
Brandubh’s expression shifted between warring emotions in response to her words. Curiosity and rage and fear made the lines of his features even sharper than normal. He opened his mouth to put words to the countless questions now swirling in his mind, but Skye held a finger to his lips, pleading him to stay silent.
“But it is simply not possible,” she insisted, searching his gaze for any hint of understanding as she went on. “If anything substantial changes here – if you take your life, if I listen to what you have to say about how this all began and act upon it prematurely – it will rewrite my timeline. Possibly even erase my existence. And the effort will prove completely futile. My history – precisely as it has happened, in all its gruesome detail – led me here to this moment. If my life trajectory deviates from the original path, I will never come here to set into motion the events which change it. We would be meddling in things far beyond our understanding or ability to correct. I am sorry. I wish I could do more, but I have so very much to accomplish before I can even reach that point. I need you to help me here – now – so that I can make it there. I need you to agree to continue waiting for my return.”
Brandubh lowered his tearful gaze. With a sorrowful nod, he resigned himself to his fate. Skye swallowed down a lump that was rising in her throat. She was sentencing him to become the beast she had encountered in her time. She was leaving him behind to be twisted into the pitiless creature that murdered Taran. If only there was another choice, but there was nothing to be done for it. She was powerless to help in this place and time.
“I give you my word, I will call to you when the time comes,” she whispered tearfully. “For now, when I am ready to leave, you must come to me and allow me to block your memories.”
Brandubh nodded again. “I will do as you ask, young Goddess. I will trust you.” He met her gaze and forced a weak smile. “I must. You are my only chance.”
Skye squeezed his hand sympathetically before severing their link.
Skye opened her eyes and could not contain the sob that burst from her lips. She covered her face with both hands and wept, struggling to release Brandubh’s pain and regain control.
“Sgitheanach? Are you hurt? Answer me,” Taran urged.
She slowly became aware of her surroundings. Taran was kneeling where she had been seated previously. She was leaning back in his arms, struggling to focus on his face.
“Can you speak?” he asked.
“I am all right. I am unharmed,” she whispered.
“You did not seem unharmed,” he declared, sounding more than a little rattled himself. “It caught me by surprise. You seemed fine until you started crying out.”
“Sorry. I… I was in between… When I let go and tried to come back here… I lost control for a minute. Let it slip. Was not able to hold it in,” she explained groggily.
Taran frowned down at her, reluctant to let her go just yet. “And what, exactly, were you unable to hold in?”
“Sorrow. Suffering. But it was not mine. All I suffer is sympathy for what cannot be undone,” she answered weakly. Increasingly aware of the fact that she was still in Taran’s arms, she sat up.
Taran helped her up onto her feet and studied her eyes. “If it was not yours, then who did it belong to?”
She averted her eyes. “I cannot say.”
With an expression that made it clear he was fighting to keep his anger in check, he opened his mouth to press for a straight answer.
She held up her hand pleadingly. “I cannot say, as doing so might put me in grave danger,” she stated solemnly. “I accomplished what I set out to do. I am safe. And we must leave it at that.”
Taran’s lips pressed together firmly. He narrowed his eyes on her and exhaled slowly through his nose. International sign of Taran displeasure – regardless of what millennium he was in. After a moment, he grudgingly nodded that he would take her word and let it be.
“Thank you for helping me, Taran,” she said softly and sincerely.
He sighed and bent to gather the blanket from the ground. “Do not make this a habit, Sgitheanach. I will always do my best to aid you, but I greatly dislike being kept in the dark.”
34: Unshakable Bond
Skye continued ticking off items from her pre-flight to-do list.
After dinner that evening, she took Ciaran’s hand and informed him that it was time to test his ability to return her power. They walked through the forest together for quite a while, intentionally avoiding the main path back to the village. Once they were a suitable distance away and at a place where the trees were not so crowded, Skye stopped and turned to face him. She shielded the entire area from outside view, not wanting Sorcha to see what they were going to attempt here.
She smiled as she brought a hand up to the formerly shaved side of Ciaran’s head, running her fingertips over the soft stubble coming in there. He was letting it grow in. No longer marking himself grieving (as he had informed her the painted marks on his face and scalp used to symbolize.) He was ready to focus on living his life. She adored the outward indicator of his long overdue joy.
He took her hands in his and bowed his head as he brought them to his lips. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he pressed kisses to her knuckles, taking in her scent and reveling in her warmth. After a moment, he stood up straight. He tilted his head, unsure of how to do this.
“A kiss, perhaps, same as it is given?” he suggested, cupping her cheek as his crystalline gaze wandered to her mouth. “Unless… Is it too much power to return in such a tender manner?”
“While I would gladly accept any excuse to kiss you, my dark one…” she began, pausing to appreciate the dazzling smile and laughter he gave in response before going on. “We should try from a distance instead. We will be very far away from one another when I attempt this in my time. I am unsure if it is even possible.”
Ciaran nodded. “Tell me what you need of me.”
Skye instructed him to walk in the opposite direction from her. She climbed a hilltop to remain in his eyeline and tried to estimate the distance he would be from her in the future. When they were roughly 400 feet apart, she stopped, figuring it had to be somewhere in this range.
At first, she thoug
ht to instruct him on how to release the energy he was carrying. She realized, however, that his future self would receive no such instruction. She needed to see whether he could accomplish this instinctually. After considering how she would phrase this request and how distraught she was likely to be when faced with the moment of truth, she beckoned him in that manner through their link.
Ciaran! You carry my light within you.
I need it now! Release it!
Please! Help me!
Ciaran’s breath caught in his throat as her plea roared through his mind. His blood boiled with the need to answer her call. Even with the rational side of his mind knowing this was merely a drill, his breathing quickened. His thoughts scattered. His heart thundered wildly in his chest. Skye was in trouble. Skye needed him to do this. His mind turned to chaos as he tried to figure out how to do as she requested. He closed his eyes tightly and sought it out – the power inside of him. Her power. He could instantly feel it. Divine warmth pooled and swirling within him, interwoven with his own life energy. A part of Skye – as reassuring and comforting to him as her embrace. He winced at the idea of surrendering it but took a breath and summoned the courage to do as she asked. As he exhaled, he released it all. He willed it to cross the distance between them. Willed it to find her and aid her.
Skye watched in wonder as her power rushed from him, pouring out across the forest in a single, determined beam of blinding light. It slammed into her with enough force to send her staggering backward a few steps. She gasped and smiled as she felt his intense love within the light – his need for her to be safe and well. A part of him was there in the swirling light somehow, guiding her power back to her. Tears of joy rolled down her face as it filled her.
When it was finished, the woods seemed jarringly empty and still. She was left panting and overwhelmed. She opened her eyes slowly and sought him out.
Ciaran was kneeling on the ground in the distance.
She made her way to him on slightly wobbly legs. When she reached him, she found tears on his face as well – but his expression was one of distress, not joy.
Skye dropped down to her knees in front of him. “Ciaran?” she whispered.
His hands clutched his chest as he avoided her gaze.
“Did it hurt you?” she asked fretfully.
Ciaran hesitated to answer. After a long pause, he slowly and rigidly shook his head. “It is… unpleasant,” he purposely understated through clenched teeth, afraid of the consequences of telling her the truth.
Skye frowned deeply. “Ciaran, the last thing I want is to cause you any pain. If it hurts, you have to tell–”
He met her gaze intensely then, halting her words as he declared in a broken voice, “It feels like losing you. Like… like having you ripped away from me.”
Skye studied his red-rimmed, haunted eyes as tears slipped down his cheeks. She tried to reach out to him through their link to gauge his condition. Given his current powerless state, however, the link was closed.
Unbeknownst to her, Ciaran was immensely grateful for that fact. He did not want her to know the extent of his physical suffering. If she felt the anguish it had caused him to release so much of her energy, she might decide against using him as a vessel to carry it across time. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly. His teeth chattered, and body trembled uncontrollably. He was cold – so unbelievably cold without the warmth of her power to sustain and protect him. He felt hollowed out. His muscles spasmed painfully. Every cell in his body was crying out for her.
And there was something… else… inside of him. Something unknown beneath all the pain and emptiness. Something new and foreign stirring in his blood. Like wings slowly unfurling. It was a confusing and frightening sensation.
“Ciaran?” Skye whispered as she gazed into his eyes anxiously.
He had to tell her something, he realized. He chose to verbalize his emotional pain – the only item he was willing to share. “It is… heartbreaking,” he managed weakly. “It is soul crushing and terrible and lonesome. But it is temporary, my Goddess,” he insisted. “And I will gladly endure any amount of pain if it offers even the smallest hope of saving your life.”
Skye took a moment to assess her current state. She felt strong and steady. She had not needed time to recover after receiving the power. This boded well.
She leaned forward then, capturing his mouth with her own. Ciaran sighed in immense relief as she began to breathe her power into him. He tamped down all thoughts of his suffering. He locked it all up out of her reach, afraid his feelings might betray him once their link was reestablished.
Skye pulled him closer, kissing him more hungrily, pouring more of her power into him. She had needed to test whether he could surrender all he carried. He had done so instinctually and without hesitation – but there was no reason for him to remain in such a state. Ciaran groaned loudly and gripped the back of her head, shuddering in pleasure as her magic worked to extinguish all traces of pain. He pressed against her eagerly, allowing her body to warm him from the outside as her power warmed him from within.
When the pain was gone, he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth and sucked it slowly. It was the way he typically ended their kisses, savoring her taste just a bit longer before pulling away. He sighed and pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes still closed as he caught his breath. He was bone-weary. He wanted nothing so much as to lay down right there and sleep in her arms. Judging by the way Skye was now leaning into him and the fact that she had dropped her barrier around them, the feeling was mutual. The task of walking all the way back to the village seemed impossible.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Drostan called from a hilltop in the distance.
Skye looked up and gave her Maker an exhausted scowl, disliking the idea of him following along after her when she had been seeking privacy.
Drostan held up a hand as he made his way over to them. “Before you scold me, know first that the whispers brought me here. From what my vision showed, I gathered you both could use a hand back home.”
“He is not wrong,” Ciaran whispered with a tired smile. Turning toward Drostan as he approached, he declared, “I, for one, am immensely glad to see you.”
“Oh, you are always glad to see me, runt,” Drostan chuckled and tousled Ciaran’s hair affectionately with his hand.
Drostan bent down, sliding an arm around each of them and helping them up onto their feet. Ciaran leaned into his brother’s offer of assistance gratefully. Skye, on the other hand, tried to shrug it off. She made a failed attempt to relax her hold of him and stand on her own, but her legs were far too weak to hold her. She growled in irritation as he caught and steadied her.
“Easy now. No rush,” Drostan insisted.
Skye grudgingly leaned back into him for support.
“Really, you do not weigh nearly enough to be a burden, pup,” Drostan teased with a warm smile.
Skye rolled her eyes as they set out. “That does not mean I have to like needing help.”
“We all need help from time to time, Skye. Even you. It is not a weakness,” Drostan assured.
Skye frowned. “True as that may be… it means I will need to rethink my plans. I had considered using the power Ciaran will return to me in my time to strike out at the barrier in hopes of bringing it down. But if I do, it will likely leave me like this. Weak. Defenseless. I was fine when I received it – now I am exhausted. I will have to reconsider things… Perhaps I must instead hold onto the power, use it to sustain me while I face the battle on my own…”
Drostan thought on that quietly for a moment. “Well, that is certainly something to consider. At the moment, however, we have other issues to address. Now, I could manage the two of you like this just fine if it was necessary, but thankfully, it is not. I will hand one of you off once we catch up to Taran. Which would you prefer he aid?” In reply to Skye’s curious look, Drostan explained, “I have Taran waiting for us up the path. Told him you had been practicing spells with the help o
f poor Ciaran here and that it had left you both exhausted.”
“I will go to Taran if you wish it, Skye,” Ciaran volunteered. He was fully aware of the lingering tension between her and Taran and wanted to spare them the awkwardness of any forced physical closeness.
Skye nodded. “Thank you, Ciaran. I appreciate it.” After a moment she added quietly, “And… I do appreciate your help as well, Drostan.”
“Obviously!” Drostan declared with a roll of his eyes. He grinned and gave her a wink a second later.
Before long, they came upon Taran on the path. Taran looked spooked when he caught sight of them. Taking an eager step forward, his eyes went to Drostan, wordlessly seeking direction of how to be of assistance without overstepping any boundaries. Drostan handed Ciaran off to him.
Taran wondered at Ciaran’s drastically weakened state. What magic could Skye have been using to leave his brother so depleted? Taran purposefully took measured steps as he followed Drostan, allowing more and more distance to grow between them.
Once Drostan and Skye were far ahead and had entered the hustle and commotion of the village, Taran stopped. He urged Ciaran to sit on the path, then crouched down to check him over for any sign of injury.
Ciaran smiled tiredly at the welcomed return of familiar concern in Taran’s eyes. “I am well, brother,” Ciaran whispered. “Tired, is all.”
Taran scoffed at that as his eyes narrowed on him. Those steely grays studied Ciaran’s expression disbelievingly. “You look half-dead,” Taran declared gruffly. “What magic did she need to practice that left you so haggard, hmm? What trial did she put you through that I could not have endured in your stead?”
Goddess Rising Page 49
