A Sacred Magic: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 9

by Yasmine Galenorn

  “Actually, I’ve met Unkai several times. Once in a while he comes out of the forest, near my father’s palace. We’ve had several long talks about Y’Bain, and the energies that run deep within the wood. He’s unlike a number of the other Autumn Stalkers. His people don’t take prisoners very often. The Orhanakai are, in a sense, both more feral and yet more humane than the rest of the Autumn’s Bane. He’s a good sort, and you can trust him for the most part.”

  “I had that feeling. It was odd, but I felt like he’s truly a man of his word. They showed us no reason to doubt them, although I had to promise to guide him around Seattle if he ever comes over to our realm.” I laughed. “Somehow, it strikes me as odd to think of him as wandering around the city streets, but if anybody can adapt, I imagine it would be him.”

  We reached the castle before midnight, and when the guards saw us, they hustled us in, helping us down from our horses and scurrying us into the main chamber, where we found a huge fire crackling in the hearth. Even though the cloaks had done a fairly good job of keeping us warm, it felt so good to sit down by the fire and hold up my hands to the flickering warmth.

  “I will summon the Lady Brighid,” one of the guards said, motioning to the others. “Have servants bring them food and wine.”

  There was a flurry of activity as we were stripped of our cloaks and given food and drink. I was carrying the sword, wrapped in a length of cloth, and I set it across my lap as I bit into a hunk of cheese that had been melted across a great slab of soft bread. I was tired of bread and cheese, but this was at least warm and hot, and the mulled apple cider that they pressed into my hand was also hot, leaving a trail of warmth to glide down my throat. I realized, too late, that there was a good spike of brandy in it, and the drink went straight to my head, leaving me a little giddy.

  Shortly after we had eaten, Brighid, Cernunnos, and Morgana entered the room. As they took their seats, Brighid leaned forward to me. Her eyes were light, and her gaze was fastened on the cloth-wrapped sword on my lap.

  “You managed to find the sword.” It was a statement rather than a question.

  I nodded. “We encountered a number of difficulties along the way, including some will-o’-the-wisps, but we made it to the lake and I found the sword. The Lamentation accepted the marker and opened the well to me.” I paused, wanting to ask Brighid if there was any way she could relieve the guardian of her status, to give her rest. “The guardian seems extremely tired, and very lonely.”

  “It’s her job,” Brighid said. “She understands her duties, and accepted them after her death. Don’t worry about her, child. She isn’t unhappy, and while, yes, she’s melancholy, that’s simply the way of Lamentations.”

  “May we see the sword?” Cernunnos asked.

  I slowly stood, still a little giddy from the brandy and apple cider, and tired from the trip. As I unwrapped the sword, winding the material away from it, I was surprised to see how brightly the blade gleamed in the dim light, even given the years it had been in the well and the moss that was still hanging off of it. I gazed at the runes that covered the blade, feeling as though I should understand them.

  Brighid let out a soft cry, a smile lighting up her face. “It has been so long since I have seen my Flame. I regretted having to let it go, having to curse it so that no god could ever touch it. But it is still as beautiful as the day I forged it.” The fondness in her voice seemed to resonate within the blade, and it tingled in my hands.

  I held it up, and the moss fell away, shedding like water. Brighid held her hands over it, not touching the blade, and whispered an incantation below her breath. I couldn’t make out the words but as she spoke, the tarnish seem to vanish, boiling off of the sword in a mist.

  As the fog around the sword dissipated, the metal shone with a brilliance I hadn’t expected. A moment later, it looked newly made, as though it had never spent thousands of years deep in a well.

  With one hand, Brighid touched my forehead, her other hand still hovering over the blade.

  Soul to blade, blade to soul,

  let these events now unfold.

  Hilt to hand, hand to hilt,

  now a bond shall be built.

  Metal to flesh, flesh to metal,

  so the magic, it shall settle.

  Voice to thought, thought to voice,

  so the blade shall make her choice.

  Those who witness shall remember,

  that I bind this blade to Ember.

  As her words faded away, I felt something happening between me and the sword. The hilt resounded in my hand, pulsing as a faint bluish glow began to surround the blade. I watched, unable to avert my eyes, as the glow brightened to an almost blinding flash.

  The energy spiraled up the blade, into the hilt, through my arm, and I dropped my head back, feeling the power of Brighid’s Flame as it washed through me, a wave of energy that crested as it reached my crown chakra.

  There was something so right about holding the sword, something so true to my nature, that I never wanted to let go. I gasped as Brighid stepped away, and I moved back, out of reach of the others, and flourished the sword, slashing her through the air.

  She felt light as a feather in my hand, the weight of the metal no longer an issue. And she hummed brightly, as though she were singing to me as I maneuvered her in first one position, then another. I laughed, my weariness falling away as I fell in love with the blade, and the blade seemed to fall in love with me.

  “What did you do?” I asked, finally finding my tongue.

  “The sword is yours. I bound it to you. If anyone ever attempts to take it away, the sword will find its way back to you. And it will not function for others, unless they are your friends trying to help. You can never be hurt by this blade. Even if you accidentally hit yourself with it, Brighid’s Flame will not cut your skin. Her tip will not pierce your heart. No one can use your weapon against you. And trust me, Brighid’s Flame will slice through the shield of Longlear.”

  The mood grew somber again as she mentioned Longlear. I lowered the sword and returned to my seat, placing the blade across my lap as I leaned back against the sofa.

  “I need a sheath. There didn’t seem to be one in the well.” I glanced over Brighid, not wanting to sound greedy.

  “There is a sheath for the sword. I will have it brought to you in your room. Take care of my blade for me—she’s one of my favorites. She’ll stand you in good stead when you need her.” Brighid looked over at Cernunnos. “How long do we have before Typhon rises? We must take care of Nuanda before then.”

  Cernunnos shrugged. “I have no clue. It won’t be long, but we have at least a few weeks. Perhaps a couple months if we’re lucky. Ember, you must summon Nuanda. I suggest that you summon him on the full moon. That’s two weeks away. That will give Herne time to train you with the sword, because you’re the only one who will be able to wield it against him.”

  Part of me wanted to take care of it in the morning, to just get it over with. But Cernunnos was correct. I had no clue of how to handle a sword. It wasn’t the same as a dagger, and definitely not the same as a bow.

  “How will I summon him? How do I contact him? And where will we fight?”

  “You will fight here, in Annwn. As to summoning him? We’ll teach you how,” Morgana said, turning to Lugh the Long Handed. “You know, right?”

  Lugh nodded. “Yes, I’ll teach her how to summon him. And yes, you must fight him over here so that as little damage is done in your realm as possible. I will do what research I can on him during the next two weeks. Meanwhile, learn to use the sword and try not to worry. It won’t be easy to cleave through Longlear, especially since your opponent is half giant. But there are tricks and ways to throw your opponent off. The more you can unbalance him, the better chance you have of taking him down. And make no mistake, Ember. You must kill him. There’s no room for mercy. When he dies, the Brotherhood will fall apart. But as long as he lives, they will gather around him.”

  I st
ared at the sword on my lap. The thought that in two weeks I would be fighting against Nuanda, in hand-to-hand combat, terrified me. But even as the fear raced through my body, a reassuring pulse echoed from the hilt into my hand. Brighid’s Flame was trying to reassure me, to let me know that she would do her best. And right now, I needed all the reassurance I could get.

  After things were sorted out, we were escorted to our rooms. After taking a long bath, I fell into bed next to Herne. I lay there, my arm across his bare chest as he crooked his arm around my shoulders. I nuzzled him, too tired to do anything except lay there, but I luxuriated in the feel of him next to me.

  “Can you really teach me to fight with the sword in two weeks?”

  He stretched his other arm under his head, and leaned over to kiss my forehead. “I think so. You already know how to fight with the dagger, and you’re pretty good at martial arts. It shouldn’t be too difficult, especially if the sword is as light as you say in your hands.”

  “It’s as though the weight just drifted away when she bound it to me,” I said. “I’ve never felt connected to a weapon like I do to Brighid’s Flame, although Serafina runs a close second. Is it odd that I think of them as entities, rather than just objects?”

  “Not at all. They are entities. They each have a consciousness of their own. Most of the weapons and artifacts created by the gods do. We put a little bit of ourselves into each creation, so there’s a little of me in Serafina, and there’s a little bit of Brighid in Brighid’s Flame. These aren’t just run-of-the-mill weapons that you can walk into a store and buy. You’ll need to treat them with the respect they deserve. Polish the sword weekly, make sure it’s sharp. As for Serafina, you’ll want to polish the wood with a fine oil each month. Don’t toss them around, and make sure they have a place of their own in your home.”

  I nodded, my cheek against his chest. “I understand. Treat them like I would a valued member of my family, basically.” I paused, then asked, “Do you think I can take down Nuanda? Do you really believe that I can do this?”

  He adjusted the covers, pulling them up over my shoulders. I felt so safe in his arms that I never wanted to leave, never wanted to move from the spot.

  “I think you can. And you know I’m not one for hyperbole or overexaggeration. I think you can defeat him. But you’re going to have to train hard the next two weeks, harder than you’ve ever trained for anything except, perhaps, the Cruharach. Mostly, you need to stop second-guessing yourself. You need to learn to trust your instincts. Those are the two spots where you could trip and fall. Too often, I think I trust your instincts more than you do.”

  He shifted, pushing himself up so he was sitting against the headboard. I followed suit, pulling the covers up around my shoulders as I stared at the fireplace across the room. The fire was burning brightly, but the room was still chilly. Both Serafina and Brighid’s Flame were on the divan near our bed. Brighid had sent one of her servants to me with the sheath for the sword. It was a dark crimson leather, handworked in stone. The fittings on it were bronze, and it had a matching belt specifically made to carry it.

  “I think I’ve been unsure of myself most of my life,” I said. “I don’t know where it started. Maybe it started in grade school when the kids bullied me for being a tralaeth. Or maybe it was when my parents were killed, and my world felt like it was shattered. I don’t know. Somewhere along the way, I lost my confidence in my decisions. But one thing I’m sure of, and I know this to the core of my being, is that I love you. And honestly, that frightens me.”

  Herne paused for a moment, then asked, “Why are you afraid of loving me?”

  “I don’t think I’m afraid of loving you. I think I’m afraid of somehow losing your love. I’ve never felt this way about anybody before, I’ve never been deeply in love with anyone. And then, when I do fall in love, it’s with a god. How do I process that? How do I handle these bouts that come over me where I feel unworthy? I mean, when a god falls in love with you, how can you measure up? I guess I keep thinking that any day now, you’ll look at me and see the real me, all my faults and foibles, and you’ll think: Why did I ever choose her?”

  Herne let out a long sigh, but he didn’t sound irritated. “I suppose I can understand. I mean, I’ve never felt that way, but I can empathize. But it’s important for you to remember that while yes, I am a god, I feel similar emotions, and I can love the smallest of things. And I’m not saying you’re someone small. I’m just saying that if I can appreciate the beauty of a daisy or a bluebell, if I can listen to a bird singing and feel a sense of peace, why can’t I love someone who isn’t a goddess? Love doesn’t understand rank, love doesn’t understand caste or hierarchy. Love transcends gender, and it transcends money, and it transcends just about everything there is. So for me to fall in love with you—I don’t see that as unusual. All I know is that when I met you, I lost my heart to you.” He took my left hand, and tapped the ring on my finger. “I gave this to you as a promise of my love. I’m not about to take it back. My love for you stands, and I just hope that your love for me will stand. Ember, I’d be so lonely without you, and so miserable.”

  He gathered me in his arms then, holding me tight as he kissed me. My weariness fell away as he slid me back down into the bed, rolling between my legs. As I opened myself to him, I found myself crying.

  “What’s wrong?” He asked softly, kissing away my tears.

  “Nothing’s wrong. Just make love to me. I’m tired, but I need you inside me, I need you to fill me up, swallow me whole with your love.”

  And so, as the fire continued to crackle away, Herne made love to me, and for a little while I was able to forget about Nuanda, and the coming fight.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Angel and I stared at the house. We’d been gone for six days and the drive home from the portal, after being in Annwn for so long, seemed almost surreal. Our cars were safely in front of the house and nothing looked out of the ordinary as Herne eased onto the gravel. Angel and I scrambled out of Herne’s SUV, gathering our gear before we waved at everyone and headed inside.

  “I’m so glad to be home,” I said, unlocking the door.

  “Me too,” Angel said.

  We dropped our packs by the door, and I scooped up Mr. Rumblebutt to give him a kiss on the head when he ran over, glaring at me.

  “I’m sorry we were gone so long, but you love Ronnie,” I said before he jumped out of my arms and, pointedly snubbing me, turned his back.

  “You’ve got a lot of apologizing to do,” Angel said with a laugh. She paused, then added, “Something happened in the forest, didn’t it? Beyond finding the sword?”

  I hadn’t told her about the aughiskies yet. We hadn’t really had time to sit down and talk. “Yeah, but save it till after we’ve had showers and changed, okay?”

  Frowning, she nodded. “All right.”

  An hour later, we were clean, wearing comfy clothes, and in the kitchen. I could hardly wait to get my hands on a latte, and she wanted her tea. We finally sat down at the table, drinks and cookies in hand, and I cleared my throat.

  “All right. Here’s what I haven’t told you yet. You were right, I almost didn’t make it out of Y’Bain. There’s a form of water Fae known as an aughisky. They’re waterhorse shifters, but not like the hippocampi.” I licked my lips, then told her what had happened. I had already realized that I didn’t like talking about it because I had felt so helpless, and the thought of what might have happened sat like a lump in my stomach.

  When I finished, Angel slammed her hand against the table. “It never fails. It doesn’t matter where you go, it’s always a danger, isn’t it?” She looked at me, her eyes registering a fury I seldom saw in her. “Isn’t there anywhere in this world or in any other world, where women are safe from assault?”

  I shrugged. “Unfortunately, I don’t think so. But they’re dead. I shot them both with Serafina. At least those two will never attack another woman. I didn’t even want to talk about this
because it makes me so angry, and because when I managed to get away from them, all I wanted to do was to kill them. And I did. I wanted to make them suffer for what they tried to do to me.”

  “At least you got away. For that, I’m grateful. And I thank whatever water elemental it was that you summoned.” She let out a long breath, reaching for her purse. “I think that’s what I was sensing—the danger from the aughiskies.”

  “Promise me something,” I said.

  “What is it?”

  “The martial arts classes you’re taking? You’ll double down on them. Make certain that you can disarm an attacker. Don’t be squeamish. I mean, there will always be times when we’re outnumbered, or our opponent has a gun or something that we can’t fight. But promise me that you’ll do everything you can to learn how to keep yourself safe. If we can’t change the world, we can at least try to make sure the freaks won’t ever get a chance to attack anybody again. I want to put the fear of the gods in them.”

  “Oh, you have my promise on that. I’m actually doing really well. I’m coming up for the test for my yellow belt. And I think I’m going to pass.” She gave me a bright smile, shaking her head. “Who would have thought? Me, Angel Jackson, who used to be a pacifist, is actually going for her yellow belt in karate!”

  “Way to go! We’ll celebrate when you get it. I’ll come watch your test, if that’s allowed.”

  We grudgingly gathered our packs and began to empty clothes into the laundry. The house needed cleaning, and so—like most magical moments—our trip ended with doing dishes, washing clothes, and dusting. Because reality consisted of cleanup, even after victory.

  That evening, Angel was supposed to go over to Rafé’s, but he called to warn her he had a cold and told her she probably shouldn’t come. So she and I were sitting around the living room, eating pizza, when her phone rang again. She pulled it out, then frowned as she glanced at the caller ID.