A tremor of disgust threatened to take over as I thought about how true those words were, but I managed to squelch it. After all, it wasn't the girl's fault my mother had taken advantage of her.
"It's almost midnight and we don't want to miss the spectacle the Dagda has planned. Besides, don't you want to practice some more dances for your prom tomorrow night?"
The reminder of her prom seemed to cheer Meghan up. She took my offered hand and we rejoined the rest of the revelers as the late hour approached. For a time, I simply enjoyed Meghan's company as we watched several men and women stand up before the crowd, performing one feat after another. Partway through the show, I left to get more mead, but on my way back I was sidelined by one of the Dagda's guards. He offered me a slight bow and handed me a piece of rolled parchment sealed with wax. Puzzled, I nodded my head at the man as I took the message from him. I broke the seal and peeled back the crisp paper. Even before I finished reading it, my blood had gone cold.
Ehriad and Strayling,
For too long my prize has been denied to me, and now that my son has broken all ties, I must act on my own. I begin my journey to the west where I will pass through the dolmarehn leading into the mortal world. Once there, I have plans to eliminate those very souls the little Meghan considers her family. Their deaths won't add much to my power, but perhaps the Faelorah has a better solution. You have three days to make your decision.
-Morrigan
She hadn't lied after all. The Morrigan was far away and she planned to travel even further. All this time I'd been worried about protecting Meghan and keeping her safe while my mother had managed to uncover the most effective way to hurt her: by harming her family. I could ask the Dagda for his help, but it would take too long to gather all of his reserves and besides, what chance did a small guard and a legion of farmers and traders have against the power of the goddess of war? Even with mine and my foster father's help, the Morrigan still possessed far more glamour. No. We would lose that battle and Meghan's family would suffer for it. That left only one option: to get back to the mortal world as soon as we could and move the Elam's to a different location, someplace where the Morrigan couldn't find them . . .
I hadn't realized my ears had been ringing until Meghan's concerned voice broke through the din. "Cade!"
Blinking rapidly, I looked up at Meghan. She had a question written on her face. My voice was hoarse when the words finally tumbled out, "It's a message from the Morrigan. She is on her way to the dolmarehn that leads to the swamp behind your house. She plans to cross into the mortal world with the purpose of killing your family."
* * *
Never had I been more determined or driven to reach a destination in my life. The details of leaving the Dagda's were vague, but I do remember gathering Meghan up into my arms at one point and promising her everything would be alright. And I would do anything in my power to keep that promise. Luathara greeted us after many hours of frantic riding, the castle's stone walls awash in dawn's golden light. But we did not stop. I pushed Speirling on, testing his limits as he carried Meghan and me ever closer to the hills west of my home. Finally, we reached a cleft in the hills and I knew the trail leading to the dolmarehn wasn't much further. Hope swelled in my chest, but in the next breath I realized we would never make it that far.
I felt them before I saw them, their evil magic slamming into me like an invisible wall. Speirling let out a scream of protest, either in response to the small army of faelah that had suddenly appeared around the bend, or because of my unexpected pull on his reins, I cannot say for sure. The arm I had draped around Meghan tightened and when I met the Morrigan's eyes, there was triumph burning in their crimson depths.
So. A lie after all. She wasn't on her way to demolish Meghan's family, and that was never her intention. Playing on my paranoia and Meghan's concern for her parents and brothers, the Morrigan had created the perfect trap. And there was no way out of it this time.
"I'm getting down, Meghan," I whispered.
Once both my feet were planted on the ground, I turned and helped Meghan down, placing her behind me.
Well hello there, my dear son, the Morrigan sent, her shil-sciar words sickeningly cheerful.
Gritting my teeth, I responded, You never planned on entering the mortal world, did you?
Why should I? Everything I want is right here. She inclined her head in Meghan's direction.
Throwing all caution to the wind, I stepped forward, pulling Meghan behind me by the hand. "We wish to go to the dolmarehn," I announced.
No, I did not expect the Morrigan to step aside and grant us a safe crossing, but if I could somehow get Meghan home maybe she would have a better chance. My mother hated going into the mortal world. Besides, I didn't entirely believe that she had left the Elams in peace.
The faelah, which had slowly encircled us, hissed and chattered as we moved closer to their master.
"I don't see why you would," my mother responded in a bored tone. "There is nothing left in the mortal world worth returning to."
Meghan faltered behind me and I had to turn to keep her from collapsing.
"No," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
The deep, old magic flowing through my veins bucked and fought for release. Not yet, I thought, trying to soothe it, not yet.
I whipped my head around, my anger brewing and my skin prickling with anxiety. "You lie!" I hissed.
But it is so fun to see the pathetic little Faelorah's reaction, she sent, then aloud she added, "Unfortunately, you are correct, dear Caedehn, much to my chagrin. I'll have to wait and exterminate the mortal vermin when we're done here."
The relief I felt was short-lived. Meghan and I were still here, far away from any aid, and the Morrigan had us surrounded by at least a hundred faelah.
I gave you one last chance, Caedehn, and you defied me. I'll take your insubordination no more.
The silent words burned across my mind, but that was a conversation she kept only between the two of us. Aloud she said, "You've been hiding this poor misguided creature for weeks, bringing her here to Eile and secretly flaunting her before all sorts of Faelorehn. I felt it was time I remove her from your negative influence."
"Explain yourself," I demanded. Whatever my mother had schemed up could not be good.
"I’ve drawn you out in order to claim fosterage, of course."
My anger flared again, hot and violent. Fostering? The only thing you wish to foster with regards to Meghan is her glamour, and once it reaches its full potential you mean to rip it from her body.
Oh Caedehn, my poor melodramatic boy. No wonder you are so smitten with this pitiable creature.
Keeping up this double conversation was growing tiresome, so I abandoned the internal argument with my mother for Meghan's sake.
"She doesn't need fostering."
The Morrigan then brought her appeal to Meghan, using her skill of persuasive speech to try and convince both of us that a fosterage under the goddess of war would be beneficial. I don't know why she even bothered. Neither one of us was foolish enough to fall for her tricks.
The headache that had begun as a result of suppressing my magic threatened to overwhelm me, but somehow I managed to grit out a response, "She won't require fostering under Danua's roof. The high queen has plenty of subjects who might act as a foster parent, all of them worthy of moving in the highest circles. Your concern is unwarranted and unwanted."
"Her own mother has shunned her, or so that’s the popular gossip in the Faelorehn courts. I’ve heard of no others who wish to accept her, so she’s still a strayling. Therefore, I make first claim to her."
"No."
The response was automatic, dredged up from the very depths of my soul. I took a small step back, doing everything in my power to draw Meghan closer to me. "I'll take responsibility for her."
Oh? Is that so dear, Caedehn? Do you have some happy news to report to your dear mother? Because short of a binding ceremony, I can't see ho
w you can back up such a ludicrous assertion.
My desire to claim just that was strong, but it would not have been the truth. If Meghan and I had participated in a binding ceremony, then we would be promised to one another: married. And if that were the case, the Morrigan would have no grounds on which to foster Meghan. Not that any of that mattered. My mother wasn't here to finagle her way around the legal system of Eile. No set of rules reigned over her. She was here to take what she wanted, regardless of the law. For some reason, she was stalling by talking nonsense about fostering and binding ceremonies. Perhaps she did so only for the sake of sport, the way a cat plays with a mouse before striking the death blow.
Finally, the Morrigan seemed to have grown tired of our banter.
"You have no right, my dear boy. Not being one of the Tuatha De yourself, you would need consent from a guardian or blood relation to take on such a responsibility and your guardian is not here, and I do not grant my permission," she snarled.
Her words hit me with the force of a raging bull. No. No, Meghan could not find out this way.
I glared up at my mother, but all I got from her was a narrowed red stare and a smug smile.
You heartless bitch! I flung with as much vitriol as I could muster.
Such language to use describing your mother, Caedehn! And if you wish to pretend the two of you are bonded, should the girl not know about her mate's mother? To keep secrets from your chosen life partner is not a good idea, my son.
We are not bound, and you know this. Cease this torment you put us both through and get on with your devious plans.
Did you hope to keep this secret from the girl forever? she continued, ignoring my plea. Are you ashamed of your heritage, Caedehn? Just how many secrets have you kept from her?
My growing rage adopted a hint of terror. The Morrigan had trapped me, just as much as she had ensnared Meghan. She would crack me like an egg before Danua's daughter, spilling all of my insecurities and laying them out for her to see. I had always meant to tell her, but I had wanted to do so on my own terms. Instead, she was going to find out about all the skeletons in my closet right here on this small plain before my mother and all her decaying pets. It would be the final blow to take away whatever dignity I had left before the great battle commenced. Because there would be a battle, I was certain of it.
"What does she mean, she won't grant her permission?"
Meghan's voice grabbed a hold of me and pulled me from the edge of the black abyss I found myself teetering on. She had somehow moved so that she stood slightly in front of me, her head turned so that she glanced up at me. I had to look away, for I could not meet her eyes. My own revealed far too much at the moment.
Apparently, the Morrigan was just beginning her torture session. Cruel, mocking laughter floated across the grassy field and I jerked my head up to meet her eyes. If she was going to do this, then I would not cower away from her. I may not have the strength to face Meghan, but I definitely had the courage to face the Morrigan. Years and years of bitter, selfish neglect on her part had toughened me to her abuse. I would face my enemy without a trace of weakness.
"Oh my dear girl, are you saying that my sweet little Caedehn hasn’t disclosed the degree of our relationship yet? Why, he is my one and only son. And I am his mother."
I knew the words were coming, had even braced myself for them. Still, they hit me like a flare of dark magic. And the gasp that wrenched itself free from Meghan's throat felt like a dagger to my heart.
Yes, Meghan, I thought, you know the truth now. And now, I'll have to let you go.
But I wouldn't do so without a fight. She may no longer wish to associate with me, but I would not let her fall prey to the Morrigan. After all, my love was rooted deep and it would not falter, no matter what happened.
When I bothered to return my attention to my surroundings, I caught the tail end of something my mother was saying.
". . . a severe disappointment since birth," she finished off with cold dissatisfaction.
That's it, twist the knife as well as drive it in deeper.
Meghan tried to pull away from me, but I wouldn't let her go. Not because I suspected she feared me, but because I didn't want the Morrigan to capture her. And with the way my mother's magic was brewing and crackling around us, it wouldn't take much for her to suck Meghan into her web.
The Morrigan continued on with her drivel, bemoaning the fact that I hadn't simply dropped Meghan at her feet from the very beginning, even when I had obeyed all of her other commands.
"As if I had a choice!" I shouted, thinking about all the times I was unable to resist her hold on me. "You placed a geis on me, remember?"
I'd learned a thing or two about resistance since my early days as the Morrigan's slave, but that was all in the past and would do nothing to help our situation now. I was more than ready for this pointless argument to be over. My mother wanted Meghan and I wasn't going to give her over. No manner of cajoling or combination of threats would bend me.
"A geis you broke," she reminded me.
"Please Mother, our people have been breaking geasa since the beginning of time. What choice do we have?" I pointed out. Then I added privately, Do you see any point in drawing this out, Mother?
Oh yes, dear Caedehn, she replied. I'll have your precious Meghan hating you before she becomes my slave.
Before I could respond, she said out loud, "It doesn't matter, you still would have failed, broken geis or not."
Very well. If she wanted to play this way, then so be it. I decided to throw a few daggers myself. "Of course I would have failed because you will never stop taking your anger for my father out on me."
The intense, yet well-controlled flood of magic that had welled up around us suddenly strengthened, deep scarlet flames that licked at my nerves and set my own glamour on the defensive. Beside me Meghan shifted. I still held onto her, unwilling to lose contact even if my fingers were digging into her skin. I hoped she was coping better than me.
"Your father took advantage of me!" the Morrigan shrieked.
Oh yes. I had hit a nerve. My mother hated to be outwitted, and the reminder that Cuchulainn had done just that was a wound that still nagged at her, even now. Good, maybe it would prove to be a useful distraction.
A bark of laughter escaped my throat. "He tricked you, after you tried to beguile him. So really, you have only yourself to blame."
My mother bared her teeth. "Cuchulainn was a fool, and he died a fool as well."
"Cuchulainn is your father?!"
Meghan had remained quiet for so long that anyone watching from afar might have thought she'd forgotten how to speak. And then I realized my mistake, and so did my mother. Despite her angry outward appearance, the goddess of war hadn't gained the power and reputation she currently possessed by letting her emotions get the better of her.
You see, Caedehn, you need my help after all, her shil-sciar words bloomed in my mind. I am the master of keeping secrets from people, and you could have learned much from me. All these months, you've managed to keep your little strayling in the dark, only to have everything laid out before her now. And simply because of an exchange of words with me. Yes, your father was a fool, and so are you.
I didn't have much time to let her words get to me, because Meghan was speaking once again.
"So, you tried to seduce Cuchulainn, but he saw right through you."
Despite my mother's talent for not letting emotion cloud her judgment, the poisonous glare she threw in Meghan's direction suggested otherwise.
"He used me and cast me aside when he was through."
"The same way you are trying to use and cast aside Cade?"
If I wasn't absolutely certain that the Morrigan had come here to fulfill her promise to enslave Meghan and finally do away with me, I would have scooped her up into my arms and held her tight. My dear, brave Meghan. If only there was time to tell her the truth. Not the truth about who I was, that had already been done. No, in that moment I long
ed to admit the way I felt, to tell her how much I loved her. But I feared it was too late.
"Don’t you dare judge me, you worthless fae strayling! I can’t believe how you cling so pathetically to my son, knowing what he is and what he’s capable of."
I stole a glance down at Meghan, only to find her ducking her eyes as a blush spread across her cheeks.
"What do you mean? I’m only now finding out about his parentage, and honestly, none of it matters to me."
In spite of all the horror that surrounded us: the Morrigan's magic, the restless faelah, the black, boiling clouds above . . . a spark of pure elation erupted in my heart. Perhaps it wasn't too late after all.
Unfortunately, my small moment of happiness skidded to a halt when my mother spoke into my mind again.
Does she know everything now, Caedehn? Or is there one more thing you haven't told her?
I looked up at the Morrigan, my gaze cold and empty, but it didn't hide the truth. She assumed a look of bewilderment, a look that soon melted into one of pure delight.
No, I sent. For the first time in my life, I begged my mother for something. Please, grant me this last mercy.
Her shil-sciar words crackled across my mind like electricity. Me? Merciful? Never, Caedehn, never will I show mercy, least of all to you. The son who has fought me his entire life and who continues to fight me now when the battle is over. So, save your worthless, pathetic begging for someone who cares.
The pure, bitter hatred that tinted her words left me feeling raw and broken.
Drawing in a breath, the Morrigan smiled wickedly and, feigning disbelief, said to the young woman I sought to protect, "Caedehn! Have you kept everything from the poor girl? No wonder she doesn’t run from you in disgust, like all the rest."
Meghan craned her neck to look up at me, but I turned away. Yes, it was cowardly, but I could not look into her eyes without giving in to the desire that had been building in me from the very moment I first saw her. I needed to be strong right now. Even with my wild glamour ready to burst through my skin, I needed this last bit of control.
Ghalien: A Novel of the Otherworld Page 18
