by Bonnie Lamer
Getting back to more important matters, Dagda turns to Tana and says with a sigh, “Xandra believes she has a plan.”
I scowl at him across the counter. “Way to sell it,” I grouse.
He ignores me. Patting the stool next to him, Dagda says to his wife, “Have a seat and we will fill you in.”
After we’ve given her the specifics, Tana takes a moment to absorb the information. Her voice is neutral when she finally says, “That is a bold plan.” Glancing at several faces around the room, she adds, “And a potentially lethal one. Are you all certain that you are willing to take the risk?”
I don’t like where she’s going with this. I’m relieved when several voices speak at once, giving her a resounding, “Yes.”
She’s not done questioning my plan. Tana’s eyes narrow in on Dagda, and she says, “You once sacrificed everything you held dear in your quest to have the daughter of prophecy. You went against family and friends. You betrayed me. Now, this daughter who has sown a path of chaos and destruction through your life in recent years is asking for the ultimate sacrifice. You are being asked to risk not only your life, but your immortal soul. Do you choose to stand behind those devastating choices you made to bring this child into the universe? Will you risk being torn from me, risk leaving your realm without its King, to follow your daughter into this battle?”
Dead. Silence. Except the sound of my chin hitting the counter. Out of the corner of my eye, I note I’m not the only one sitting here with my mouth open. I thought Tana had moved past her anger and resentment. I thought she had forgiven Dagda. I thought we were a family. Now, she’s asking him to choose between me and her? I guess I thought wrong all those times before.
A large hand takes mine under the counter and squeezes. I glance up at my husband, and I’m taken aback at the anger blazing in his eyes. He believed those same things I did. Now, his aunt has betrayed him all over again.
“Yes.”
My head whips back in the direction of my biological father. There was no hesitation in his voice. No apology. No justifications. Just a full-on YES.
I brace myself for the explosion of angry emotion from my stepmother. But it doesn’t come. Instead, I watch a satisfied smile curl onto Tana’s lips. She gives Dagda a curt nod and kisses his cheek. “Good. I would hate to think it was all for nothing. I love and respect the Fairy you have grown into, the father you have become. I believe our lives are richer for our expanded family.” Tana glances around the counter with a warm smile on her face. When her eyes find Dagda’s again, her smile disappears and she warns, “Do not disappoint me again. You fight with every last breath in your body for all we have now. And for all the future will bring us.” She smiles at Kallen and me, then in Kegan and Alita’s direction, then toward the kitchen door the children disappeared through.
The breath I didn’t realize I was holding finally leaves my lungs. I pick my jaw up from the counter and hinge it back into place. Kallen releases the death grip he had on my hand, and we both return her smile with warm ones of our own. We are truly a family. The past will never be forgotten, but it has been forgiven. We will move forward taking only the best parts of it with us.
A slow grin spreads across my father’s face as Tana’s words fully sink into his brain. He was so prepared for her anger and resentment that it took him a few extra seconds to really absorb them. He pulls Tana into his arms and kisses her long and hard.
So long and hard that the rest of us grow uncomfortable. Then more uncomfortable as the scene before us shows no sign of stopping any time soon. Eventually, rounds of throat clearings and coughs begin to echo off the kitchen walls.
Finally, Dagda pulls back from his wife. Tana’s cheeks are flushed, and her eyes shine with unshed tears of love. Smoothing a lock of hair back from her face, Dagda says solemnly, “You have my word as your husband and as King of this realm. If it takes every last breath in me to win this fight, then so be it. Knowing that you will be there, fighting at my side, means everything to me.”
Isla is not about to let Dagda slip back into another physical demonstration of how much that means to him. “The goal, though,” she drawls, “is to avoid such a thing.” Leave it to her to break up the overly emotional moment. Thank goodness. It was getting way too intense in here.
“Amen,” I mutter. I give Kallen’s hand another squeeze, hoping like hell that we all make it through this.
Deciding to shift the conversation away from the current awkwardness, Dad asks, “So, any idea when this big showdown is going to occur?”
A grimace forms on Kallen’s face. “Since it is likely that the Council is aware of the children’s presence in our time, I doubt they will want to give us much time to prepare,” he tells my dad.
Many times, I’ve wished that the Universe would pay attention to what was going on in my life. And many times, I’ve wished that it wouldn’t. This is most definitely one of the latter. I wish the Universe had just gone on its merry, indifferent way. But, it didn’t. It stopped, eavesdropped on our conversation, and decided that our luck was all used up.
A sudden influx of power inundates us from all sides. Everyone scrambles to their feet as the pressure closes in on us. Even Dad, who doesn’t have a magical bone in his body, feels it. Eyes meeting mine, he says, “I’ll consider that a definitive answer to my question.” Smart man.
Chapter 33
“Mom! Dad!” Zyla calls, as she runs toward the kitchen with Mom and Zac in tow. Xavion and Keelan are close behind.
“We feel it,” Kallen assures her. His even voice belies the sudden fear in his heart. We are about to battle for our children’s lives. We’re both terrified of what will happen if we lose.
As soon as she’s in the kitchen, Zyla drops Mom’s and Zac’s hands and runs into her father’s open arms. “This is it. They’ve come for us,” Zyla cries into Kallen’s shoulder as he hugs her close.
Reaching out, I place a comforting hand on her back. “It’s okay. We’ve got this,” I try to assure her. I hold my hand out to Xavion. He comes closer and grasps it tightly.
“Besides,” I tell my children softly, “the enemy isn’t here quite yet.” To the room in general, I announce, “These are friends, not foes.”
“Are you certain?” Dagda asks. Doubt drips from his mouth onto the floor. The amount of power coming our way is more than he’s ever felt before. More than we’re prepared to face on our own. He’s not ready to believe all that power is on our side just because I say so.
Nodding confidently, I say with ninety-eight percent certainty, “Yes.” If I’m wrong, that two percent won’t really matter as none of us will survive without the help we’re expecting. I push that not-so-cheery thought from my head. I have faith in my friends. They’ll come through.
With my free hand, I wave everyone closer. “Gather around,” I tell them.
The space in the kitchen gets a little cramped as leave our stools and press closer to each other. Someone’s magic makes the counter, the place of comfort where we all love to gather, disappear. Somehow, that makes the situation more real in my heart and mind. This could be the end of life as we know it. Or, just the end of our lives.
Leaning close so he can speak softly in my ear, Kallen asks, “Is this who you were expecting?”
“Yes and no,” I hedge. I know who it is, and from the clues that Raziel left, I believed they would fight with us. I just didn’t expect them to be the first to arrive. I thought it would take a little convincing on our part to get them to join us. Convincing that would take place after Urim got back to me with what we need. Again, the Universe has other plans than the one I wanted it to follow.
Hearing our whispered conversation, Dagda asks, “What does that mean?” He pulls Tana closer with one arm and grasps Tabitha’s hand with his other. He pulls the older Fairy closer to his side.
“I’m fine,” Tabitha grouses at him. But she doesn’t let go of the Fairy King’s hand, nor does she move away from him.
&nbs
p; “I was hoping Urim would arrive first,” I admit to my father. And a few other Angels. Just in case this doesn’t go as I hope it will. Power in numbers, right? Not to mention the other personal safety concerns that might arise for some of our group. My heart clenches as one of them rears its ugly, or at least shiny, head.
As the magic grows, bright light starts to blur the kitchen walls from our vision. “Are we about to be blinded?” a squinting Garren asks. He is clinging to Isla. Whether for her protection or his, I’m not sure. Both, probably. Either way, Isla doesn’t seem to mind.
“I did not think about that,” Alita says quietly to Kegan. She hugs her husband and son, or sons, closer and covers the baby’s eyes with her hand. Kegan gives her a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
Next to them, Mom and Dad cling to each other and to Zac. My brother doesn’t complain like he normally would if they held him so close. But I note that he still stands tall despite being wrapped in their arms. He is going to face his first real battle with as much courage as he can muster. I am so proud of him.
After a moment, I feel Kallen relax ever so slightly next to me. He glances around our group. “If that was going to happen, a few in this room would already be blind,” he tells Garren. “Me included. Xandra is right, these are friends not foes.” He recognizes the magic pressing in on us now.
“Right,” Garren nods, but he’s not convinced. His grip on Isla tightens. He takes a long hard look at his wife before planting a quick kiss on her lips. Thinking it might be the last one he gets, I’m sure. “I love you,” he tells her.
Glancing around our group, it hits me that the children are not in close proximity to each other. Not good. “Keelan, move closer, please. Zyla and Xavion, stand here and here. But no one is to touch,” I warn the three of them as they move into better positions. We want to be prepared, but not give the impression that we’re going on the offensive quite yet. The kids all nod in understanding and move to the spots I point out.
Around us, the light that for the last few minutes was growing brighter, making me wonder briefly if Kallen was wrong, finally begins to dim. As it fades, we find the walls of the kitchen no longer stand around us. They’ve been replaced by a thick mist. My cheesy brain wants me to utter the words, Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore. But only Mom and Dad would get the reference, so I refrain.
“Where are we?” Zac whispers to Dad.
“I don’t know,” Dad admits. He wraps his arms even tighter around his wife and son, giving me a worried look as I stand with my own husband and children.
“You are where time does not pass,” a voice booms.
Unfortunately, we can’t see through the mist surrounding us. It also seems to simultaneously absorb and echo sound, making it feel like it’s coming from many directions at once. So, we have no idea where the voice is coming from.
Thinking back to my time in the library with Rashnu, I remember something she said. I respond to the voice with her words. “The consequences of time passing will be felt by all, regardless of desire.”
“So we have learned,” the voice acknowledges.
The mist begins to fade. But we don’t find ourselves back in our kitchen. Instead, the mist shifts into light again. Not the blinding kind from before. It’s replaced first a by soft glow of illumination all around us. Gradually, the light shifts and turns, creating forms. Patches of landscape come into view. Soon, we find ourselves in a field of lavender that stretches out to the horizon in every direction. It’s like standing in the center of a canvas as an artist paints a picture. Still no sign of whoever is talking to us, though.
“Well, at least it smells nice here,” I mutter as I take in the pretty violet-colored flowers. I groan inwardly when I realize I said that aloud. Straightening my shoulders, I address the invisible beings again. “Why have you brought us here?”
“You were in danger.”
Not the answer I expected. “What?” I ask in surprise.
“Send us back,” Dagda demands fiercely. He steps forward, searching every direction for the owner of the voice. “If our home is facing invaders, I will not hide from danger and leave the rest of the Fae unprotected.”
“The Fae are in no immediate danger,” the voice assures him. “Only those we brought here.”
“How can you be sure. If our enemy cannot find us, they may take it out on the rest of the Fae,” Dagda insists. “I will not stand by as my people are slaughtered.”
The voice is unmoved. “The Fae have nothing to offer those who seek the ones among you with true power.”
In other words, the Fairies are beneath their notice because they’re not powerful enough. Nice. I glance at my father to see how he’s taking those words. Anger, resentment, and relief battle for control of his expression and his tongue. Relief wins out. Ultimately, Dagda decides that the important part of the conversation is that his realm is safe. He bites back the anger and resentment and nods in acceptance.
Despite his words from a few minutes ago, Kallen isn’t quite ready to believe we’re in the hands of friends instead of foes. “How do we know this is not a trap?”
Reasonable question since we can’t see who is speaking to us. Maybe they’re not showing their faces because they’re disguising their magic. They may not be who I think they are.
“The mortal soul is filled with distrust. An error in creation or a learned behavior, I wonder,” the voice muses.
We’re definitely not here to debate philosophy, psychology or creation. There are bigger things to worry about. Or at least, more urgent things. “Yes, the nature vs. nurture argument has raged forever. Just like the chicken and the egg and which came first thing. No one will ever know for certain,” I complain with the wave of the hand. “Can we move on?”
“We know which came first,” the voice informs me.
Probably true. Still not relevant. With an aggravated sigh, I say, “Well, please don’t spoil it for me. I like the mystery. Right now, I’d much rather hear more about why you decided to save us.”
“Because you saved us.”
“What?!” escapes from several mouths in our group.
A shimmering in the air in front of us slowly takes the shape of a being. A large being with wings like an Angel’s. I tense briefly, fearing this really may be a trap, until more becomes visible. There are a few gasps behind me from those in our group who haven’t seen these beings before. I don’t blame them. These beings are a bit to take in at first.
“They really do have four faces,” Dad sputters in surprise. What, he thought we were making that part up?
“You are the first full-blooded Human to see them all,” the being says to Dad.
Which brings us back to the question Garren asked earlier, and the general safety of the mortals among us. “Yeah, about that,” I say. “Why is it that none of their eyes are blinded by the sight of you?”
“Do not give them ideas,” Garren whispers out of the corner of his mouth. Isla shushes him.
“We can control the light from within.”
Oh, that’s handy. “The other Angels can’t do that?” I ask.
“Angels?” Kegan asks in surprise. “These are Angels?” Next to him, Alita closes her eyes and hopes for a miracle so that her husband isn’t smited on the spot.
“We are the Cherubim,” the being informs Kegan. There’s no annoyance in her voice about him not knowing. She simply states the fact.
Still, Kegan frowns. He’s not a believer yet. “I thought the Cherubim were little baby Angels.”
“So did I,” Dad admits under his breath. A little color rises to his cheeks when he realizes he said this aloud.
“Only in paintings,” Isla tells them both, trying hard to keep the irritation from her voice. But her tone does imply that they should both refrain from speaking any more.
I can’t blame her. We do sound like an ignorant bunch right now. “Why did the Seraphim try to kill you?” For the being before me is most def
initely the one I saved in the cavern. One of those the Seraphim tried to poison with a spell.
“Your own mortal history has shown that the path to power is often paved with the heads of one’s comrades.” Thinking back over my history lessons, I decide I can’t argue that point. So, I don’t. “It is no different with celestial beings.”
Dumbfounded, Kallen asks, “The Seraphim really are trying to take over? They are even willing to kill their own kind to do so?” Whether the Cherubim look like the Seraphim or not, they are all Angels.
The utter shock in my husband’s voice is annoying. I look up at him with a scowl. “You didn’t believe me?” Or Raziel and his clues? The Archangel is omniscient, after all. Most of the time, anyway.
