Heart of a Kingdom

by Lisa Bain

  Fintan had selected a silver-gray mare, and it suited him. His silver hair and blue cloak made for a striking figure. If he’s not careful, Libby thought to herself, that blue-eyed silver fox will end up the subject of someone else’s song or poem. The rest of the group was cloaked in a deep navy with Libby’s ash tree crest embroidered on the borders and their individual crests embroidered on their backs. Libby, Kurtis and Dyanna alone were in the emerald green of the royal family, the ash tree crest sparkling on the back, with a border that included the crests of all the knights and LIWs. Sean hated this since it made it easy to identify who they were, but there was no worry about being singled out as targets in the Kingdom, and Libby believed her people needed to see it. Pomp and circumstance were important to morale. She’d compromised and all three were wearing Kevlar underneath to make him feel better.

  Once they got out of sight of the seaside forest city, they relaxed the processional formation. Geoffrey and Scarlett didn’t like Libby out front, so after their first break, when everyone packed away their cloaks and Libby stowed her crown, they slowly maneuvered her out of the lead. They weren’t alone. The other knights and LIWs had the same idea, and when they saw what their chiefs were doing, it was just a matter of minutes before Libby was safely ensconced in the middle of the group. If Libby noticed, she didn’t have the energy to argue. The two heirs were also quickly enveloped by their seniors. Awen rode close to Geoffrey, Scarlett, and the Queen. Fintan picked up the rear.

  Days on horseback are tough on even confident riders if they aren’t used to it. Except for Kendra and Kurtis, none of them went out on multi-day rides if they could help it. John hated horses, and Fintan was out of practice. Dyanna was the newest to horseback. She liked how tall they were, giving her a better vantage point to see. However, she didn’t like how that made the ground a lot further away if she fell. The first day was uncomfortable, but the third day was brutal. She hurt in places she didn’t know she had and was complaining almost as much as Fintan.

  They’d just arrived on the outskirts of Wexford and knew they were going to get a break from camping. Hot showers and a pub were a lovely break after three nights of sleeping outdoors. They’d avoided Dublin and the larger towns but were all looking forward to a few weeks in the town famous for its opera. Wexford was one of those border towns that made a perfect portal point between the Kingdom and the Normal world. With all of the music magic there, it was also a great opportunity to give Fintan and Awen a break without sacrificing Libby’s health.

  “My arse is killing me!” Fintan groaned as he slid out of the saddle.

  “Mine too,” Dyanna chimed in. “Pretty sure the men of Wexford are safe.” She patted her horse’s mane and gave her a hug before turning towards the stables.

  There were a few chuckles, especially after Cristina loudly proclaimed, “Speak for yourself, Dy!”

  Fintan rolled his eyes. He couldn’t stand the impropriety, but knew he was a dinosaur when it came to etiquette. The laughter ended quickly when Dyanna noticed the look on her aunt’s face. Libby didn’t often get angry, but the raised eyebrows and frown were an early warning sign of disapproval.

  “Dyanna, that’s inappropriate commentary for an heir to the throne.”

  “Whatever, Aunty Libby.” Dyanna laughed sheepishly over her shoulder, but she toned it down. She knew that look since her mom wore it often, and she knew her aunt must be on a short temper to correct her publicly. When she noticed Kurtis snickering, she shot him a glare that would have made her mom and aunt proud. Boys have it so much easier, she thought angrily. I wonder if Leia has these problems.

  “Lighten up, Libby,” Cristina snorted. “She gets that sass from you.” She gave her horse a good brushing. The look shifted from Dy to Cristina, and the LIW let out a quiet, “Well, okie dokie then.”

  Libby was exhausted and uncharacteristically grumpy.

  The entire group got busy unloading and stabling the horses as quickly as possible. Fynnigan had secured a country estate on the outskirts of town that had its own stables and was large enough for their party, although most of them would be doubling up in rooms, including Libby. Not that Larra would have given her the option even if they’d had the space for private rooms.

  Libby had fallen into bed fully dressed, without dinner, and immediately fell asleep. She awoke in Maggie’s cottage, sitting on the floor cushions. A pot of tea was steeping on the low table next to them. Libby smiled as she realized she could now see Maggie’s blue aura easily, and without effort. “Hello Maggie, blue is a lovely color on you.”

  Maggie smiled. “So, you can see it now? Without effort? Excellent. How is it going with your wizards?”

  Libby shook her head and chuckled. “Well, Krystal is trying to teach me how to see the energy from crystals. I’m not quite there yet, but with some concentration I can see all three of their energy auras. It’s pretty incredible. And beautiful. It’s like a whole other layer of luminescent colors no one has named yet.”

  Maggie looked at Libby and asked, “What about yours? What color is yours?”

  “Mine?” Libby asked. “Why would I need to see mine?”

  “It’s all about seeing different kinds of energy. You’ve denied this part of you for your entire life. If you’re going to be a complete person, you need to figure out who you are, and this is part of it. You know how most people see themselves differently than others do?”

  Libby thought about this. She and Dale had talked about this often. He saw things in her she never recognized and didn’t really believe were true. “Yes, is it like that?”

  “Not quite. Your energy aura is the same no matter who’s looking at it. But you need to see it for what it is, see yourself for you who are. Try it.”

  Libby looked around for a mirror, and Maggie started laughing. “No child, you don’t need a mirror. You’re going to use your mind’s eye for this one.”

  Libby bit her lip and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and focused her intention inwards. She didn’t see anything but kept breathing and concentrating. Maggie could see she was struggling, and the soft mandolin began playing in the background. Libby willed herself to surrender, just like she did with the music, and felt herself floating. She realized she was somehow in her heart center. She felt safe, light, and loved. She looked around and saw that she was completely engulfed by a glowing pink light. She smiled when she realized she’d found her core, her magic. This was what she looked like. This was who she was. She started giggling.

  Maggie was grinning at her when she opened her eyes, still giggling. “Well dear? What is it?”

  “Pretty in pink. Only all glowy and sparkly. And warm and happy.”

  “Well done, child. You’ve just taken the first step to recognizing who you are. Whenever you have doubts, especially when you’re doubting yourself, this is the place to come back to.”

  The questers were taking a leisurely pace so Libby could get in lots of training during the day. Although the change of scenery for Libby was the main purpose of their excursion, not far behind was the opportunity to travel the entire length of the force field so Fynnigan could evaluate the strength of the barrier. He’d often saddle his horse and disappear for hours, leaving the rest of the group behind so he could inspect it as methodically as he felt it needed, no matter how long it took. It meant long periods of time camping, so they made the most of any time they could in towns and villages.

  They may not have coined the phrase, “work hard, play hard,” but they sure put it to the test. Their second night in Wexford, Libby and John hit the local pub, just like they always did. Neither of them counted on the effects her still healing heart would have on her alcohol consumption, and she spent two days throwing up from alcohol poisoning. It was ugly, and painful. The LIWs were livid with John, blaming him for Libby being out of commission.

  “That’s enough!” John fought back, after Fynnigan started in on him. “Look, I would never do anything to hurt Libby, you know that. She n
eeded a break. She wanted to go out. Neither of us had any indication that her heart situation might have such an effect. I don’t need every single one you to explain the Queen’s weakened immune system to me. I get it. Until she fully regenerates her heart, we must keep her as far away from whiskey as possible. Just don’t forget she’s Libby, and she does what she wants. She always has. I was just along for the craic, but I won’t let it happen again.”

  The Queen snapped out of her meditation suddenly, still feeling the lingering gaze of the golden-brown eyes fixed upon her. She’d gone under a healing meditation so didn’t know why he was there, but it felt like he was watching her. Whomever he was. In the vision she looked up to see the stranger’s eyes staring at her through a black ski mask. She was startled, but not afraid. At first, she thought it was Dale, but no. He had hazel eyes. These eyes were golden brown, like a lion. Or a wolf. Whomever this man was, she knew they were destined to meet. She didn’t understand why his identity was hidden, that had never happened before, but she knew he was looking for her, even if he didn’t know it yet. She was now wide awake and looked at the clock. Great, she thought. Just midnight. She couldn’t shake the sensation of that intense connection, eyes locked. So strange.

  Maggie had explained in one of her dream sessions how the visions worked, but that they weren’t a training priority right now. Libby couldn’t stop thinking about it. There was something about him, a feeling that was familiar.

  That night she tossed and turned for hours, unable to fall asleep with those eyes staring back at her from her memory.

  “Would you like some tea?” the tiny voice pierced the darkness.

  “No, thank you, Larra. I’m sorry if I’m keeping you awake.”

  “You toss and turn like an elephant,” she complained. “Your highness,” she added as an afterthought.

  Libby laughed as she rolled over and willed herself to sleep, knowing that she needed to train with Michie that night.

  Chapter

  Music, Magic, and Men

  It’s a motherfucker being here without you

  Thinking ‘bout the good times, thinking ‘bout the bad

  And I won’t ever be the same

  It’s a motherfucker getting through a Sunday

  Talking to the walls

  Just me again

  But I won’t ever be the same

  It’s a motherfucker how much I understand

  The feeling that you need someone to take you by the hand

  And you won’t ever be the same

  You won’t ever be the same

  ~The Eels, “It’s a Motherfucker”

  Musicians are all magic workers at some level. Some could actually weave spells, and the colors would form patterns that oozed out from the stage into the audience. Music could calm. Music could get them worked up. Music could make them sad, happy, angry, or even confused. There was a reason people were drawn to musicians, even in the non-magic world. They sensed the healing power the music had, no matter what the genre. Most musicians fell into the healer category, but a few used their gift for other purposes.

  Libby had always loved music, and she still had a desperate need to surround herself with as much music as possible. Fintan did his best but would get worn out, so each evening they were in a town Libby could be found in the back-corner booth at a local pub or concert hall, soaking up as much music as she could. After full days of fighting practice in the ring and training with Awen, she was always ready for a music break before more training while she was asleep.

  With Maggie’s continued instruction, and a lot of practice, she could now see energy as easily as she could feel it and was able to experience music in multiple dimensions. She could see the energy originate at the point the music started. Whether fingers on strings, vibrations emanating from a drum, or wind from a flute, it started like the flame from a lit match, flaring out and then softening as it spread out in waves. The effect on her was always the same: her pupils dilated slightly, her mouth opened, and she fell into the music magic like sinking into Dale’s embrace. All music had a healing component, even when it came from a person with no magical talent. But when someone with magic was playing, it permeated the soul. That’s where she could absorb it, shore up her own energy, and allow her broken heart to heal faster and with less pain than through meditation alone. In those moments, her pain and loneliness were forgotten. Because she was sensitive to the energy, the effects were even more impactful. The stronger the musician, the stronger the response.

  She’d tried explaining it to Fintan who, coming from the Normal world, was curious. “It’s as if the wall between this reality and the next thins, and I can almost reach through it to the other side. Have you ever looked through a window covered in running rain water? You can see but the water is flowing, and the view isn’t quite clear? It’s like that. Suddenly there is no sense of up; I’m falling into the other side. It’s beyond bliss. I can’t explain it properly, but my soul yearns to be there as much as that place wants me to be.”

  It also worked in reverse, in a strange symbiotic relationship. The musicians were able to absorb the energy their audience gave back. Her enjoyment of the music was powerful. The musicians could feel what she was doing–consuming the music energy they released when they performed and returning it–even if they didn’t immediately realize who she was.

  Few people knew that the magic each musician created had a different flavor and color, just like the different genres of music. While most music magic had a cinnamon orange sunset glow, others were the vibrant hues of the sky on fire–magenta, purple, gold, and even red. She’d once attended a performance of the Ulster Orchestra and it was like an aurora borealis inside Ulster Hall, all pink and green, bouncing off the green in all the landscape paintings that surrounded the upper seats. She couldn’t figure out who was creating it, but she’d soaked it up. She’d gone back more than once and it never happened that way again, so she’d guessed it was the visiting conductor.

  Libby was always hungry for more than just their magic. In a pub environment, they almost always came up to introduce themselves at a break. It was then she would get to learn their stories and know them as people. When they didn’t, she’d send up a drink for them anyway.

  Tonight, the music of the opening band had been good enough, and Libby was tired. She’d decided she was done for the evening and stood up from the table. At that moment the room started to spin. The Queen reached out for the table to steady herself, but it was too far away. She felt herself falling and was mortified. Before Libby hit the floor, hands reached out to grab her. She looked up into dark eyes that were smiling back at her. She was embarrassed and croaked out a pathetic, “I don’t normally fall for handsome strangers” line.

  By this time her escorts were on full alert, but Libby only had eyes for the handsome musician, who was smiling bemusedly back at her and still cradling her head in his muscular arms. Fynnigan stepped up to them, hand on his holster out of habit more than a perceived threat, and said, “Thank you, we’ll take it from here.” Fynn and Leia got the Queen seated until she could catch her breath. Once she’d recovered, they escorted her out of the pub and back to the estate where they were staying, leaving the musician watching with a confused grin on his face as he finished setting up. He was the final performance of the evening.

  Libby’s training continued daily, both during waking hours and when she was dreaming, but her chakra healing wasn’t progressing fast enough. Awen had been dreading this conversation, but finally had to share the instructions Maggie and Michie had given her.

  Goddess help me, she prayed to herself. “You’re making good progress, Libby. We just need to step it up.”

  “Step it up? What the hell? I’m pushing myself every day! And every night when I’m asleep! What could I possibly do to step it up?” Libby demanded, instantly defensive.

  “Well, in order to be at full power when you face Jasper, you need to clear and balance your chakras. With your daily y
oga and meditation exercises, your energy is clearing, but you still have some chakra blockage. With everything that happened, I’d expect that. Although your heart chakra is doing well, as are your upper chakras. It’s your lower chakras that are still blocked. Your fear is not helping you. We can work on some of that with continued reiki, but other things only you can fix.”

  Libby pouted in silence. Of course she was afraid. Who wouldn’t be? She decided she’d work on her red root chakra and try to meditate through the fear, so was surprised by what came next.

  “I see a lot of orange today, but it’s muddy. What’s going on?” The Queen looked sheepish. “Orange, huh? That’s a surprise. Well, I sort of met someone. Well, not exactly met someone. I felt attracted to someone for the first time since Dale. Is that weird? Is it too soon?”

  Awen fought back the huge grin that threatened to take over her face. She knew she needed to proceed cautiously. “No, that’s great. And human. I hate to break it to you super woman, you are as human as the rest of us, and you need to experience physical pleasure if you’re going to fully open your sacral chakra. Clearly music and good cooking aren’t enough. Tell me about him.”

  “I don’t really know anything about him. Not even his name. I was at the pub last night and on my way out, I got dizzy and fell. This gorgeous man caught me before I hit the floor. I was so embarrassed. And then confused. I’d turned that part of my life off when Dale was injured, like flipping a light switch off. Not a second thought. This was the first time I’ve felt attraction to a man other than Dale. It’s strange.” Libby had been unconsciously cracking her knuckles, a nervous habit she’d had since childhood. Awen hated that sound and let a look of disgust and revulsion cross her face before recovering her calm demeanor.