Our full redemption won.
His tone didn’t change much, the force of the song in the long syllables and harsh consonants. The storm above them began to scatter and reform on the other side. For a moment, Conall thought he’d dispel the druid’s weather-working and stolen it for himself. However, Gemmán renewed his song and his clouds re-coalesced. Sparks of lightning danced across the sky, and the metallic scent of a summer storm inundated the glade.
Soon, two thunderheads opposed each other above them, arches of heat lightning darting between each. As Gemmán increased his volume, one of the clouds grew. As Crimthann shouted his chants, the other cloud grew, until the entire sky had darkened to an ominous gray, flashing with almost constant flares of light. The metallic odor of ozone and burning leaves tickled his nose.
Lainn jumped between them. “Stop it! This is ridiculous! Both of you are grown men, and this petty jealousy becomes neither of you!”
Crimthann’s eyes remained locked on Gemmán’s as he shoved her out of the way, never pausing in his monotone chant. The priest reached into his robe and pulled out a golden cross, a symbol of his God’s sacrifice to his followers. The cross glowed brightly in the dim light.
Gemmán paused as his eyes flickered to his young acolyte, but he returned to his task with an apologetic shrug. The ground shook again as Conall leapt to grab Lainn from danger.
Before he reached his sister, Adhna cried out and fell into a crumpled heap as a shining star appeared next to him. The light grew so bright, Conall had to close his eyes from the pain.
He knew that pain. He recognized that light. The scent of wood ash and lavender permeated the clearing.
As he expected, the brightness resolved into a voluptuous female form, taller than anyone in the yard. She appeared dressed for battle in shining bronze armor, a wicked-looking spear in her hand. She glared at each of the humans before her, with a dismissive glance at Adhna at her feet. The older Fae moaned and crawled a few feet away. Conall wanted to make certain he wasn’t injured, but he was unable to move.
Both the priest and the druid had halted their magic. Conall didn’t know if their actions were voluntary or if the Queen had forced them to stop. He suspected the latter.
“What transpires here? I sensed the workings of great magic in this place, and I do not tolerate such workings in my domain without my permission.”
Conall noticed two shadows behind the Queen. He squinted, trying to make out who accompanied her to the human realm. He recognized the gnarled skin of Bodach and frowned. He’d long since gleaned from his mother’s ravings that Bodach had haunted her, bedeviling her with visions and fears.
Next to him, the white skin and ink-black hair of Ammatán made him catch his breath. He searched his ex-lover’s eyes for any trace of affection or love. He found nothing but the raving rage he’d last seen as they escaped Faerie. He closed his eyes, wishing himself and Lainn anywhere but here, in this impossible place.
A crash behind him made him spin to see his mother, her mouth wide in a silent scream. She’d fallen on the threshold of the roundhouse, her arm stretched up to the Queen in supplication. She appeared frozen in place, unable to move or speak. Conall tried to rush to her side but remained stuck in place.
Lainn hummed.
It sounded low at first, but her hum grew louder and changed in tone as she slowly moved first her hand and then her arm. Her foot moved next, and she took an agonizingly sluggish step toward their mother. Conall watched in horrified fascination as her song cut through the Queen’s magic.
Step by step, Lainn approached their mother. Conall noticed his mother’s eyes flick to both him and Lainn and back to the Queen. She seemed aware of her surroundings but unable to do anything about it. Conall metnally urged Lainn faster, cheering silently for her success.
The Queen screeched in a pitch so high, Conall barely heard it. The sound sliced into his mind, splitting into several tones. She pointed at Lainn, and her screech grew louder. Conall ached to hold his hands over his ears, and felt a trickle of something down the side of his neck. Blood? Sweat? Red lights engulfed both Lainn and his mother, and all progress stopped as Lainn fell to the ground, her still form not moving. Their mother collapsed completely, her eyes wide open and staring at the still-swirling stormy sky.
Conall knew, deep within his heart, his mother now lay dead. Part of him, an ungrateful, horrid part, felt relief at her passing. She would be at peace now, no longer haunted by her waking nightmares. More selfishly, he realized he no longer needed to tend to her, no longer had the duty of a child to an uncaring parent.
Lainn moaned, and the other part of Conall’s heart, already beginning to mourn both his mother and his sister, soared with hope and triumph. The Queen hadn’t killed her! Conall begged her silently to stay still, to keep the Queen from finishing the task. He tried to speak, to attract the Queen’s attention away from his sister. It came out a creaking gasp.
The Queen’s head swiveled in his direction, her terrifying regard now complete upon him. If he’d had any control over his muscles, he’d be shivering in horror.
Bodach stepped forward, bowing low to the Queen. “My Queen, may I beg your indulgence for a moment?”
Conall wanted to scream against the possibility. He knew Bodach meant no good for any humans, and to allow the Queen to listen to his idea would surely be to the detriment of all he held dear.
Ammatán also stepped forward, his mad eyes darting to each figure in the yard. Conall felt his heart break at the Fae’s first words. “May I play with them, my Queen? I have many plans for each of them. None will be gentle, I assure you.”
A moan from Adhna drew her attention instead. In a rasping, labored voice, the old Fae said, “My Queen, I have an idea that may also please you.”
The Queen stared at each Fae in turn, obviously considering each. She nodded first to Adhna, evidently lifting the blanket of force from him. He stood, but then immediately prostrated himself to her. She smiled. “Rise, Adhna. Have you a worthy suggestion for my treatment of these insects?”
He nodded. “The children were not the cause of this battle. The druid and the priest were the cause of the magic, as they were arguing about their relative power of healing. With the death of the patient, the point has been rendered moot, and any punishment you wish to grant should be directed toward them. However, they do have the protection and regard of powerful gods. If you prefer, I may offer myself in exchange for their punishment.”
Conall ached to stop Adhna, to tell him all about his own time in Faerie, his work for the Queen, and his time with Ammatán. Time gave him no chance. Time was a horrible master.
The Queen answered him with a counter-offer, but Conall paid no attention. Lainn moaned slightly and moved a hand toward Conall. He inched toward her, and while Adhna and the Queen conversed, they held hands. He squeezed her hand so hard she squeaked. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat but failed.
She whispered, “Mother’s dead, Conall, and I’m dying. I can feel it.”
“No, no, no! You’ll be healed! I’ll d-d-do everything I can to make things better, I promise.”
She shook her head. “No, even Gemmán’s magic won’t heal this. I know just enough healing to realize the truth, Conall.”
“I’ll…I’ll give you the brooch! That might work! It’s magic may help.”
“Brooch? You mean the one Da gave you?”
“Wait, how do you know?”
Her wan smile made his heart break. “I’ve always known about it, Conall. How did you think I didn’t? We lived together all our lives, silly. You could never keep a true secret from me.”
He struggled against the Queen’s magic to pull the brooch from his pocket. When he unwrapped the white cloth, it gleamed in the still-dim light. The blood-red stones gleamed in the low light, pulsing like a heartbeat within the palm of his hand. The brooch felt warm, despite the chilled wind that still flowed through the trees. Lainn’s eyes grew wide, and she r
eached out to touch it.
When her fingers touched the entwined metallic animals, the brooch sparked and sizzled, like flint striking granite. She cried out and pulled her hand back in pain and surprise. This brought the attention of the still-arguing Fae. The glade grew heavy with silence as the two Fae men approached.
The Queen’s voice cut through the awkward hush. “What have we here? More human magic? I thought you said the adult humans were the source of the magic, Adhna. Have you lied to me?”
Her hair rose as if teased by the wind, forming a green halo of terrible beauty, the light behind her growing with drama and intensity. She looked even taller as her expression grew angry. She bared her pointed teeth and opened her mouth as if to scream again.
“No, not in the slightest, my Queen! This magic, it’s old Fae magic, I promise you. Nothing active, just a latent enchantment. The boy has had it all this time, hidden and harmless.”
She mulled over his explanation, glancing again at Crimthann and Gemmán, still held immobile by her force.
Bodach and Ammatán both reached Conall, hands out to touch the brooch. Bodach’s smile so wide, Conall’s blood grew cold. “Oh, this is a delightful artifact. Let me touch it, human child. Let me caress its delicious magic. It seems familiar. Doesn’t it seem familiar, Ammatán?”
The dark-haired Fae drew in a long breath, closing his eyes. He licked his lips in a sensual gesture, smiling as if he had just tasted the most luxurious of treats. “It smells delightful. I’m certain I’ve seen such a thing before, in another lifetime. I…I can’t remember…”
His eyes darted to Conall and back to the brooch, a flicker of sanity flashing in his eyes. For a moment, he frowned and blinked, looking into Conall’s eyes. A trace of affection shimmered within. “I…I know you…I think…”
Lainn gasped as Bodach touched her cheek with a gnarled finger. “This one is leaking life, my Queen. Do you wish her to live? Or may I feast upon her life-force? She has a juicy aroma. I would be delighted to enjoy her.”
Ammatán’s attention shifted to his sister. The madness returned in the Fae’s eyes, and his smile grew, more horrifying than Bodach’s had been. All trace of lucidity disappeared from Ammatán’s eyes, and his feral laugh tore through Conall’s heart.
Lainn moaned and took a few quick breaths. Adhna leapt to her side. “My Queen! Take me to Faerie for punishment, but allow this girl to enter Fae as well. She is dying as a human, but we can transform her into Faerie form, and save her life. She has Fae blood, and I can train her as a loyal servant to you as Faerie, I promise!”
The Queen put a finger to her lips in a surprisingly human gesture. Conall whispered angrily to Adhna, “You would t-t-take Lainn away from me?”
The Fae whispered in urgent tones. “She’s dying, you fool. Can’t you see that? This is the only chance she has.”
Conall shook his head, unable to accept his solution. “As Fae? She won’t be Lainn any longer.”
“That’s true, but she will live. She will remember you. She can protect herself and you from Ammatán and Bodach. It’s the only way, Conall.”
“Why? Why would you d-do this? Aren’t you offering yourself up for punishment for all this?”
“I promised your father long ago to watch after you, Conall. You and Lainn, both. I can’t remain here, but I can watch after Lainn in Faerie.”
Conall glanced at the Faerie Queen, but she spoke with Ammatán about something and paid them no mind. “On one condition.”
Adhna raised his eyebrows.
“Tell me if my father is alive.”
Adhna let out a deep sigh. “For the sake of your sister, and keeping my vow for her, I must break another. Know that I cannot do this lightly, Conall. You’ve put me in a difficult situation.”
Conall looked again at the Queen. “More difficult than she will put you in?”
Letting out a short bark of laughter, Adhna shrugged. “Fair enough. As far as I know, your father is alive and well. I don’t know where. Somewhere in Faerie or one of the Otherlands. He didn’t wish to be found, as there are others who search for him. He will be in great danger if they find him. If you do seek him, it may expose him to great peril. Keep that in mind, Conall.”
Conall swallowed, hope surging once again. Father lived! He noticed Lainn, her breathing growing more labored. The Queen evidently completed her consultation with the Fae and took two steps toward them.
“I have made my decision, Adhna. I shall accept your proposal, and this human shall become my Faerie attendant. You may train her as the rest of your punishment.”
Ammatán spoke up. “But she will be mine! You promised!”
“Yours to claim kinship with, but not to train.”
Conall frowned. “Kinship?”
The Queen lowered her gaze to him, censure at his interruption apparent. “Because she has Fae blood, he has claimed her as a sister.”
“I don’t understand!”
Adhna placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll explain in a moment.”
Conall swallowed and glanced at Ammatán. That tiny spark of sympathy glimmered once more before becoming subsumed in the madness. Was that the Fae’s way of reassuring Conall that he’d watch over Lainn? If he kept Bodach from hurting her, Conall hoped so. But it may have simply been Conall’s over-active imagination and hopeless optimism.
The Queen and Bodach vanished in a clap of thunder and a bright flash of green light. Everyone in the yard moved once again. Both the priest and the druid gasped and bent over, evidently in some pain. Ammatán remained, but he sat against a tree, holding his knees together with both hands.
Conall turned to Adhna. “Explain, Adhna!”
The old Fae brought Lainn closer, her breathing more difficult now. “Her mother was Fae. And yours, in truth.”
“What? What are you t-talking about? Our mother was human! You knew her. She just died! How could she be Fae?”
Adhna shook his head. “Fae can die, but it’s more difficult. But that woman in there, Ligach, the woman who raised you as her own? That’s not your mother, Conall.”
Lainn gasped. “What?”
“Your true mother, Ellbrig, had been a Fae woman of uncommon beauty and grace, and a dear friend of mine. She did die, many years ago, when your father knew her. She died giving birth to her second human child, a lovely girl with the sunrise in her eyes.” He smiled down at Lainn, who tried to smile back.
“What else aren’t you t-t-telling me?”
“Patience, Conall. When she left him with two children and no wife, Fíngin found a human wife willing to take his children as her own.”
“Why does Ammatán claim Lainn as his sister?”
Adhna sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, gripping his staff. “Because Ammatán is distantly related to Ellbrig, your real mother.”
Cold gripped Conall’s stomach. “Ammatán is related to us?”
“He’s really more like a distant cousin, but such relations among Faerie are…fluid.”
“And our mother? I mean, Ligach? Why did she n-never say anything?”
“She vowed never to tell you, though I knew. When Fíngin had to leave, he charged me with your care.”
“But…but you said he is still alive somewhere?”
Lainn gasped again, which turned into a cough.
Conall frowned. He had to make a decision now; a decision that would change his life and Lainn’s forever. He’d made many poor decisions in his past, both for himself and for others. He wouldn’t risk letting it happen again. He must do what he must to help Lainn live. She deserved that much, at the very least. “We haven’t t-t-time to discuss this now, Adhna. Lainn needs your help. Keep her safe, Adhna. I trust you, over all others.”
“I vow to do so, Conall. For now and unto seven generations, I shall watch over your family.”
The air shimmered and crackled, the earth accepting the powerful vow.
Adhna took Lainn’s hands into his own and stared into her eyes. Hers
grew wide as the power crackled along his arms to hers, blue and green sparks glowing in the dusk. “Do you accept this transformation of your own free will, human child? Will you become a true Fae? You must take on a new name, a new appearance. Your skin may change. You may grow taller or shorter. Your personality may change.”
Lainn nodded with another cough before she whispered, “I do accept this transformation.”
Gemmán drew closer and gripped Conall’s shoulder as they watched.
The blue-green light resolved into dancing sparks. Lainn and Adhna both closed their eyes and threw their heads back as the very woods around them thrummed with power. The lights swirled into complex, entwined patterns, similar to the markings on Gemmán’s staff. This glowed as well, and Gemmán held it out to offer any help he might to the magic. Behind them, Crimthann spit and cursed, but didn’t interfere.
The two floated a handspan above the ground, turning in a slow circle as the lights grew brighter, enveloping them in a mass of glowing embers. The thrum turned into a hum that sounded both joyful and dangerous.
When the lights finally dimmed, Adhna stood before him as a much younger man, hair dark brown rather than shot with gray. His beard had shortened by at least an arm’s length.
Instead of his sister standing next to the old Fae, a tall, slim young woman with skin the shade of a robin’s egg and dark hair stood, examining her arms with wide eyes. She held out her long fingers, wiggling them in experimentation, and looked at the ends of her hair. “I won’t miss the red hair, that’s for certain!”
Her labored breathing eased, and she seemed perfectly healthy, if alien. Conall took a tentative step forward. “Lainn?”
She shook her head. “Adhna said I should have a new name. I think…” She looked around for inspiration and smiled. “Flidasinn. It sounds musical.”
A single bee buzzed around her head as she faded from sight.
Chapter 22
Conall shouldered his pack and looked up at Gemmán. The old druid had reluctantly agreed to introduce him to this set of druids, but he didn’t approve of Conall’s purpose.
Age of Saints: Druid's Brooch Series: #7 Page 24
