by Julia Mills
Civilized? Young man? I seriously hate when he gets all fatherly…
Taking a moment to control his rage, Kayne grunted, “Release me.”
“Will you give me the opportunity to explain myself?”
Looking Lugh in the eye, wondering if he would finally get the answers he’d been seeking since he was old enough to speak, Kayne grumbled, “Yes.”
Instantly released, he once again took a warrior’s stance as memories of the past, of his childhood rose like old friends, reminding him of a specific incident.
Running across the fields of heather and buttercups, the tall, lanky teen with hair the color of the sun raced towards the castle of his guardians Manannán mac Lir and Tailtiu, Queen of the Fir Bolgs. Today was the day his father came to visit. The only time he would get to see Lugh this year.
Bursting through the kitchen door and sprinting into the throne room, Kayne’s leather-soled boots slid across the slick stone floors, throwing the young Dragon off balance. Rolling his body into a tight ball as he hit the floor, he somersaulted to the base of the dais where the King and Queen who’d also raised his father so regally sat.
Merriment danced in their dark eyes and he could see them biting the insides of their cheeks to keep from laughing, but it was the towering, impressive man that stood between them that caught his eye. Springing to his feet, he threw back his shoulders, clasped his hands behind his back as his military tutor had taught him and held his head high.
Stepping down from the platform, Lugh stood directly in front of him, gave a single stern nod and commanded, “At ease, Kayne.”
Letting out the breath he’d been holding and looking his dad in the eye, a huge smile broke across his face as he jumped into Lugh’s outstretched arms. Hugging his father with all his might, Kayne missed the contact when their embrace came to an end, but rejected any idea of wasting the little time he had with his father on petty, childish pouting. He was the son of a God and a Dragon destined to be one of the great Guardsmen, weakness was not allowed.
Holding his arm to the left of his shoulder, Lugh nodded, “Come. Let us walk.”
Waiting until they were outside in one of Queen Tailtiu’s many gardens, Kayne’s father asked, “How have you been, my son?”
“Fine, Father.” Knowing what questions were coming next, he continued, “My studies are going well. Sir Calvin says I am the best swordsman he has ever trained and Lord Malcolm is sure he’s never seen a better craftsman.” He smiled and winked. “Except for you, of course.”
Throwing back his head and laughing aloud, Lugh clapped Kayne on the back, beaming as he boasted, “You are truly a blessing, my son. I could not be prouder of you.”
Feeling as if he was ten feet tall, floating on air, and able to slay any enemy with a swing of his sword, he basked in the abundant pride and unconditional love flowing from his father. It was the validation he yearned for, the acceptance he only felt when he was with Lugh, and it meant more than all the gifts in the world.
The afternoon and evening flew by as Kayne showed his father everything he’d learned, even besting the God of the Sun two out of three times when sparring with broadswords he himself had forged. Knowing their time together was coming to an end, the young Dragon asked, “Have you found out any more about mother’s killer?”
Shaking his head, dark clouds of sadness filling his eyes, Lugh sighed as he scratched the stubble covering his jaw, “No, Son, I am sorry, but I will not stop until the evil that took your mother and her family from this world are found.”
Pulling himself from his revelry, Kayne demanded, “I will listen, but only if you are truly honest about everything.”
Chapter Thirteen
Standing in silence, watching a myriad of emotions flow across his father’s normally smiling face, Kayne waited for the explanation he’d been in search of for most of his life. It was hard to stay angry with Lugh’s sorrow and pain beating at him and his Dragon. Visions from the Sun God’s memory that he’d never before shared were slipping through his normally ironclad mental shields giving Kayne a whole new perspective on his father.
His resolve weakening with every single second that passed, the Dragon sighed, reached forward, and with his hand on his father’s shoulder motioned with his free hand towards a huge flat-topped rock. “How ‘bout we sit down and talk.”
Nodding and taking the lead, Lugh began, “At first, it was shock that kept me from doing anything. I took you from the rubble of the Dragons’ Lair to the Otherworld with the intention of raising you myself. Before I met your mother, I’d lived many centuries among the Tuatha Dé Danann. Your grandfather, Cian, the son of Danu, the Great Mother, accepted us with open arms.”
Taking a seat on the rock, looking into the distance as if his words conjured pictures of what he was saying, Lugh continued, “But then Balor of the Evil Eye, my grandfather, heard a prophecy from one of his many priests stating that he would one day be murdered by a grandson. The old bastard locked up his daughter Ethniu, but dad released her, they got married and together had three sons.”
“But, believing wholeheartedly in the prediction, Balor arranged for my brothers and I to be killed, but mom had a plan. I was saved. However, she knew her father would never stop, so I was shipped off to the Fir Bolg and raised by Tailtiu as her foster son.”
“While I appreciate the history lesson, that by the way, I’ve heard a thousand times, could you fast forward to the part where you lied to me and let down the memory of my mother by letting her killer run free?” Not even trying to hide his anger and disappointment, Kayne added, “You’re stalling. I’ve seen it a million times. Just out with it, or I’m going after Odin on my own.”
Shaking his head but still staring straight ahead, Lugh sighed, “Someday, my son, you are going to have to learn patience. The art of war, or should I say, winning at war, is knowing all the facts. When you strike out in anger, make rash decisions, and kill indiscriminately you ultimately start other battles, more wars, create more bloodshed, and cost those you care about their lives.”
“All of history, the parts of the story you’ve heard so many times but not truly understood, is why I waited. Yes, Odin is responsible for waking the Obscured, letting it absorb the manic mysticism of the Wild Hunt and ultimately destroying your mother’s Clan, along with many others, but it was the Faery – the descendants of Tuatha Dé Danann – my people…” Lugh’s voice grew deeper and more vehement as he got to his feet. Kayne heard the tell-tale rumble of thunder, a sign of his father’s spiraling anger as the Sun God’s eyes turned a cloudy, swirling gray contained in a ring of fire.
Watching Lugh’s fists clench at the precise moment that three bolts of lightning streaked from the perfectly clear night sky, striking in quick succession across the rocky ledge behind his father, the hair at the back of Kayne’s neck stood on end as the Celtic God of the Sun roared, “My fucking people who killed my wife!”
Thunder rolled. Lightning crashed. It was one of the most dangerously amazing things Kayne had ever seen, but it was the funnel clouds of fury, hate, and agony that he feared would destroy not only the countryside but Lugh himself.
Getting to his feet, fighting the torrent winds and dodging lightning bolts, the Demi-God reached for his father as the Sun God spun to face him and snarled, “They, those fucking duplicitous pieces of shit, the ones who mourned with me, took you in and treated us like family, are responsible for the Abomination that still hunts, kills, and feeds arbitrarily and haphazardly absent of remorse or consequence.”
Stepping forward and raising his hands, throwing back his head as golf ball-sized hail pummeled the ground below, Lugh boomed, “And for it, they shall die.”
Laying his hand on his father’s shoulder, Kayne was flung backward through the air, the skin on the palm of his hand smoldered and blistered from the zap of pure lightning he received for his trouble. Landing with a resounding thud on the far side of the plateau, the Demi-God could only watch in a freaking mixture
of awe and fear as his father whipped around, held out his hand, and with a commanding snap of his fingers, produced the Invincible Spear.
Staring at the Invincible Spear, Lugh’s Spear one of the treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann, Kayne could barely breathe. Its head was made from dark bronze and tapered gracefully into a fine, treacherously sharp point. Fastened to a rowan shaft by thirty rivets of pure, gleaming gold, the potent enchantment of the mysterious Fairies from Findias who made the weapon for Lugh sparked and crackled in the air around it. The Spear never missed its target and was so bloodthirsty it would often try to fight without anyone wielding it.
Son of a bitch, the Old Man’s gonna turn the hills red with blood, just like he did when he killed Balor. What the fuck am I gonna do?
“You’re gonna chill your boots and wait for me to get there.”
“Pearl?”
“You know anyone else stupid enough, or who likes you enough to tangle with your pissed off poppa?”
“No, and I wish…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you wish I would stay away. But we both know that shit’s not happening.”
“Damn, if I don’t love you already.”
“Well, hold that thought until you see what I have planned.”
The Dragon & His Strix
Chapter Fourteen
Swerving around hail that went from the size of golf balls to baseballs and sometimes softballs in between trying to keep her tail feathers from being zapped by Lugh’s crazy lightning Pearl was fit to be tied.
Wonder if hitting this asshole over the head with a big ass stick would work?
“Ye really shoodn’t call yer father-in-law an arsehole.” Gwendolyn’s voice was more chuckles than criticism. “He tis a God after all.”
“And my mom’s a Goddess, but she still bleeds, draws breath, and pisses me off damn near daily.”
Laughing out loud, her contagious chortle making Pearl chuckle along. “That’s her job as a mum. Wait ‘til ye have bairn of ye own.”
“Oh shit, Gwennie, dontcha dare curse me with little ones before I learn how to deal with Kayne.”
“Hey! I think I’m offended,” Kayne’s laughter joined the Ladies’ mental conversation.
“Be offended. Don’t be offended. I’ll make it up to ya’ later. Right now, I need to concentrate.”
Exhilarated by the power of the Thunderbird Gwendolyn pushed through their bond of sisterhood, Pearl let go and accepted the lengthening and broadening of her wings. Her body grew taller, her chest broader, and sharp, pointed teeth pushed through the thin lining of tissue around the edge of her bill.
“Is this what you always feel like, Gwennie?” Pearl marveled.
“Aye. An dinnae be getting’ any ideas aboot no switcheroo. I knoo yer magic woold knock me on me arse.”
Listening to one of her best friends in all the world chuckle as she focused her preternatural sight on the airspace just above Lugh’s head, Pearl made a sweeping dive, flapping her wings just as she was dead center of the Sun God’s position. Wanting to laugh but having to work especially hard to control the speed and enchantment of both her Strix and Gwendolyn’s Thunderbird, she pivoted on the tip of her left wing, came in behind Lugh, and touched down sans feathers barely three yards from where he stood.
Letting Kayne guide her mind into his father’s, Pearl waited as the Sun God turned around, looked her in the eye and asked telepathically, “You come as friend or foe.”
Speaking aloud, she replied, “As the voice of reason.” Threading her fingers through Kayne’s as he appeared at her side, Pearl added, “And as your son’s mate. At least that’s the plan.”
Unclenching his fists and stepping forward, the rain slowing with his every move then stopping when he stopped, Lugh purposefully laid his head to the side and looked Pearl up one side and down the other. Nodding, he glanced at his son. “She’s your match, of that you can be sure.”
“You doubted the Universe?”
Pearl squeezed her cocky mate’s hand, a warning that he needed to watch not only what he was saying but how he was saying it as she whispered telepathically, “I’m here to stop the bullshit, and I’d thank you to not add to the pile.”
Feeling the snickered ripple through her mind, Pearl was shocked when Lugh conceded, “I didn’t doubt the Universe.” Taking another step closer, he went on, “It is and always has been her mother that I doubt.”
“And I understand that,” Pearl readily agreed. “She and I rarely see eye-to-eye and as soon as all this is over, maybe we can help each other where she’s concerned. But right now, King Lugh,” she purposely used the title bestowed upon him by the Tuatha Dé Danann, hoping it would clear his mind and cut through the useless displays of power the Gods were best known for, “I come to you as not the daughter of Morrigan and as not a Strix, I come to you as one of your people asking if you might grant favor on my mission.”
Watching Lugh’s stern countenance slowly morphing into a smile, she went on, “As the King of the Tuatha Dé Danann you won many a battle, fought for what was right and just for your people, and made sure they were well cared for even after you ascended to the Otherworld.”
Nodding, Lugh’s stance relaxed as he motioned for her to continue. Holding back a smile as Gwennie teased, “Ye, silver-tongued owl, remind me tae take ye tae me mum’s,” Pearl stepped forward, sure to stay side-by-side with Kayne to show that they were presenting a unified front as she continued, “Before I came to you, several of the Dragons most affected by the unleashing of the Obscured returned to the Lair of the Blue Thunder Clan.”
“No shit?” Kayne asked out loud, slapping his free hand over his mouth and mumbling, “Sorry,” while Pearl forged on ignoring her mate and maintaining with the God standing before her without missing a beat.
“I hadn’t even had time to inform Kayne that Tristan of the Isle of Skye Clan whose family was lost to the Obscured has pledged himself and his Dragon to our cause. Along with him is his mate, Felicity, the great-great-granddaughter of Morgan le Fey and a wonderfully magical Fay. It appears the Fairy’s aunt had only just disclosed the origin of the Obscured and the part the Fairy Courts played in it.”
“Would this Felicity’s aunt happen to be Esme Fey?”
“Yes, sir, she would be.”
Scratching at the stubble covering his chin, Lugh sighed, “I have known Esme for many centuries.” His eyes, shining with the light of the sun, seemed to cut right through Pearl as he continued, “It would be hard for me to believe that she knowingly played a part in creating the Abomination that took my sweet Emilia from me and my son.”
“I agree,” Pearl nodded. “I believe the fault of this situation lies not in the creation of the Obscured but that the Fairy Courts hid it away and allowed it to grow and fester.” Letting her head fall forward as she took a deep breath and slowly let it out, she lifted her head, knowing that her eyes showed remorse and shame and added, “I was there the night the Obscured was released from the Fairy Mound. I felt the omnipotence of the magic of the Wild Hunt. I am ashamed to say that my mother had to mystically bind me and strip me of my Stringes form because I was a slave to the enchantment running amuck on that night.”
Closing the distance between them, Lugh laid his hand on her shoulder as he commiserated, “We all have regrets. It is what we do from that point forward that matters, and you, Pearl, have done well.”
The pieces were falling into place. She could feel Lugh’s resolve to help, replacing the want and need to maim, murder, and flay that had been present just moments before. Hope, something she was always careful not to cling to, began to fill not only her soul but Kayne’s and Gwendolyn’s.
Maybe this hair-brained scheme of mine will work…
“You mean…?”
“You know exactly what I mean, now hush,” she interrupted Kayne before he could say more than two words and doubled her focus and ability to be persuasive on Lugh.
“I was also fortunate enough to meet Murdock and At
ticus Deóirich, the two-natured brothers. They have both found their mates and all four are ready to accompany us into battle.” Taking a deep breath, tired of being as proper as she possibly could, watching her language, and using the diplomacy Sadie tried to teach all of the Ladies of the Sky, Pearl now had to ask for a favor, and to say she dreaded it was like saying she loved having her wings clipped. But it was now or never - and never wasn’t an option.
Thankful that Lugh’s spirits had seemed to brighten she smiled. “We are all at your command, King Lugh, but before we take off, I must ask for your help.” Gripping Kayne’s hand so tightly the blood drained from her fingers, she hurried on, “One of my Sisters, the Pegasus of my Clan, the Ladies of the Sky, is lost. If there is any way in your infinite wisdom and unyielding grace, could you see your way clear to help us locate her?”
Once again, Lugh placed his hand on Pearl’s shoulder, but this time, he leaned forward and kissed her right cheek and then her left. Stepping back and removing his hand, he nodded. “Consider it done, my daughter.” Looking at Kayne, the Sun God puzzled, “As your remarkable mate has done most of the preparation, I will now ask you to lead us to Devil’s Kiss and the portal to the Underworld Hel and her minions are planning to open.”
“Yippee - ki – yay, back to Hell we go.”
Tugging on her mate’s hand, Pearl stepped between Kayne and Lugh and while looking back and forth between them corrected, “I’m sorry to say, it’s actually worse than that. We need to go the Fairy Mound hidden at the very tip of the Isle of Skye.” She paused, waiting for recognition to dawn in the depths of her mate’s brilliant blue eyes and was just about to continue when Kayne scoffed, “Son of a bitch, and me without my wand and Pixie dust.”
Chapter Fifteen
