by Melle Amade
“No.” His laugh was like a cackle filling up the tiny room. “So, you would know you are a child of the royal house of Ravensgaard.”
It was like being slammed in the chest by a Ravensgaard warrior.
“There is no royal house of Ravensgaard,” Siobhan said.
“You are wrong, lass,” he said. “There was a royal family and there is a queen. The family was always on display so we could cheer and renew our devotion. I am sworn to the Ravensgaard clan under the leadership of the Queen Oonagh. I am loyal to the queen. I am loyal to her descendants.” He bowed his head to me.
I squished back into the tiny loveseat, but there was nowhere to go.
“I am loyal,” he continued, “to the orphan child abandoned in Dublin, who recently lost her entire family.” He stood and bowed to me, taking my hand and pressing his paper-thin lips against my fingers.
“I swear on my oath and on my life, that I shall follow you in whatever direction you bid me go. All of my life, all of my family, all of my wealth I commit to you, Davin Cavanagh, descendent of our one true Ravensgaard Queen.”
I stared at him in shock.
“There must be some mistake,” I said.
“How many people know about this?” Siobhan asked.
“I don’t know. What everyone believes is that the queen and her son and his wife and,” he looked at me, “their daughter, died in a car accident.”
“My parents died in an auto accident?” I asked.
“Yes. But she did not,” he said. “Not the queen, nor the child.”
“But-” I stammered.
“They burnt another child in the ruins of the car. My guess is you were switched out, because I knew when you were brought to me who you were. The only way they could protect you, was to lose you forever. Or so they thought. It was dangerous to mark you, but I trusted Casey.”
“They saw the mark,” I said to Siobhan. “Riordan and Fintan saw the mark and went to speak to their father.”
“Do you think that’s why Master Murtagh married you to his son?” she asked.
“It was a masterful move. Because he knows if it’s ever proven you are the grandchild of the queen, well, if you’re married into his family then his family is safe and more powerful than ever. And if you are not the grandchild of the queen, then still his son is safe from being married out to California. The fact you’re a fighter from the fringes who battles against the front line, who just lost your entire cabal. Well, it couldn’t be any better for Master Murtagh. He completely wins. He is saving a tragic lost orphan, one of the sole survivors of a massacre.”
“We didn’t consummate the marriage. I don’t have to stay married to him.” Not if he was just using me.
Walsh cackled. “You can’t do that, lovey. You took an oath in front of a room of Ravensgaard.”
“How the hell am I supposed to stay married to a man whose family is responsible for killing my parents? And doing God only knows what with my grandmother?”
“Ravensgaard do not break our word,” Walsh said, his gray eyes staring sadly at me. “Do not doubt ye have sworn loyalty to him.”
“I agreed to become his wife. I didn’t swear fealty to him,” I argued.
“Yes, ye agreed to be his wife, it is the oath of the highest power. If ye break it, all Ravensgaards will see ye as an oath breaker,” Walsh shrugged. “None will follow ye then.”
My heart raced as I slumped back in the small couch. “I’m trapped.”
“Ye are trapped with the Murtagh,” Walsh agreed. He nimbly stood up walking towards the door. “But it doesn’t change who ye are. Ye have returned home, Mrs. And it’s time ye met yer grandmother.”
“My grandmother?” I asked.
“The Queen has been waiting a long time to see ye again,” Walsh nodded as he motioned us towards the door. “Meet me in the garden at midnight and I’ll take ye to her.”
His mouth closed in a tight lipped line and it was clear our conversation was over.
10
“Meet me in the garden at midnight? What sort of bull crap was that?” I asked Siobhan as we lay in our room watching the clock. It was 11:45pm and we’d been watching the antique brass timepiece, minute by minute, since we’d escaped to our rooms shortly after supper.
Siobhan had spent the day with Fintan. I’d spent the day training with the warriors. Riordan had worked with his father on the administration of the estate. He had made a point of checking up on me periodically throughout the day, but I’d felt like that was more of a public relations effort than a genuine concern for my wellness. The Ravensgaard would all stop sparring when he showed up, he would give me a kiss on the cheek before waving a hand for us to continue so he could studiously watch us. He did that about three times throughout the day. Just enough to convince the Ravensgaard he was a happily married man, but not so much that it really annoyed me.
The one thing I really didn’t like, though, was that he clearly wasn’t a fighter. He was an administrator and possibly an understudy for his manipulative father. By the time the sunset and we had finished our training, I was convinced neither Fintan nor Riordan would be joining me to flush out the Hunters in Dublin.
I didn’t really care, though. There were a lot of strong fighters in the clan. Plenty to chose from for a reconnaissance of Dublin while the Murtaghs were in the Netherlands. It didn’t matter that I was a Murtagh now. I would make up some excuse to not have to go to the Matching. They had what they needed out of me, a wife for Riordan.
“C’mon.” I stood up and strode to the window.
“Did you lock the door?” Siobhan asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “And I checked it about once every five minutes over the last three hours to make sure it was locked.” There was no way I was going to risk our meeting with Walsh by Riordan coming to claim his spousal rights. “Let’s go.” I urged her to join me as I shifted on the window ledge. There was no way I was going to hear another retelling of her sexy night with Fintan. I was happy for her and all, but well, it was just going to end badly. Murtagh was going to have to marry one son into the Ravensgaard in California and Fintan was the only one left.
I didn’t wait to check if she followed me. Shifting, I flew in a straight line to the garden, flying low and quiet to avoid detection by the guards who roamed the castle at night.
“The Queen is alive,” Siobhan murmured moments later as we landed in between the rows of corn and shifted back into our human forms. I’d heard that almost as much as I’d heard about how intriguing she found Fintan and how doomed it was.
“He didn’t say that,” I argued.
“He said he would take us to her.” Siobhan’s voice was full of awe.
“Maybe he’s taking us her crypt,” I shrugged exasperated with all the different hypothesis that had been running through my head after our meeting with Walsh. “Maybe he’s going to chop our heads off. Maybe the whole marriage to Riordan was simply to put us in a position to kill me without anyone thinking it was the Murtagh family.”
“Since when did you get so cynical?” Siobhan asked, rolling her head to the side to look at me. She lay on the faded floral quilt of her bed with the stupidest grin on her face.
“When did you get so damn happy?” I countered. “Wait, don’t answer that.” I knew exactly why she was so thrilled. In love and about to meet the woman her family had pledged fealty to. A woman the whole world thought was dead.
“Yer late.” Even though I was expecting him, Walsh’s gravelly voice startled me as he stepped through a row of corn.
“By one minute.” I glance at my watch.
“Yer either on time, or yer late,” he grimaced striding ahead of us towards the rise that ran along the back of the garden. So much for bending the knee and all that. He was so Ravensgaard. Polite and respectful but wasn’t going to cut me any slack, granddaughter to the queen or not.
“Got it,” I said as we caught up with him. He didn’t respond but his pace picked up, long sweeping strid
es until we were out in the farthest corner of the garden where the corn rows ended, and the rise began.
He reached down to his belt and pulled out the crazy mass of keys, sorting through them so gently they didn’t make a sound in the misty night. Siobhan and I exchanged a glance. What was this guy? Some sort of jailor? There was a good chance we still could die tonight, I shrugged silently towards her.
Siobhan nodded and smiled back. There was no way either one of us were going to back out.
Once he’d found the key he was looking for, a thin rusty thing that looked as ancient as the man himself, Walsh moved aside some vines and we saw there was a wooden door in the rise. I inspected the moss that covered the rise, squishing it under my fingertips. I had thought it was a dirt mound like you saw around Ireland. Maybe an ancient burial mound or garbage dump, but it wasn’t that at all. Under the moss and grass that covered it, this was a stone bunker. It looked like the exact same black stone the castle was made of. And on the door was carved the crest of House Cavanagh, the raven’s wing.
“Tis the special visitor quarters,” Walsh said, as he slipped the key into the door and it clicked the lock open. “Was built with the castle back when they didn’t have to hide their prisons. Back when it was expected that the ruling family would have prisoners of enemy clans.”
“The Murtagh’s are keeping the Queen prisoner?” Siobhan asked.
“Told you he was taking us to a crypt,” I whispered as we both passed by him to get into the dingy inner chamber.
Walsh’s chuckle filled the stale air. “Ye know it’s not a crypt,” he said. “Ye can feel it in yer bones, can’t ye?” His eyes pierced me in the darkness as he pulled out a lighter and lit a gas lamp. The door was already closed, and we were enveloped in the black innards of Castle Brannach’s prison.
“I can feel something,” I murmured as we followed him into the main hallway. But it was more creepiness than anything else. Iron bars lined both sides of the space, cells for the ‘special visitors’ of the Ravensgaard. “Is she imprisoned?” I asked, not wanting to follow him in without more clear answers.
“One cannot imprison the Queen without her consent,” Walsh said walking down the center aisle.
“Is she alive?” Siobhan called out to him, neither of us moving from the doorway of the entrance chamber.
“Are ye Ravensgaard or not?” Walsh glared back, his eyes taking on a demonic silver glow from the lamp light.
I rolled my eyes and nudged Siobhan. “We’ve come too far now. Let’s get this over with. Whatever it is we’re walking into, at least we’ll get to be imprisoned or murdered together.”
Siobhan let out a cough as we followed Walsh up the aisle. At the end of the row was another door, which he duly unlocked with a different meticulously selected key. We went through several more doors, but I wasn’t counting. I was just wondering what sort of dumb trap we were walking into.
But when he finally opened the last door, I couldn’t have been more surprised.
I stood in the doorway, Siobhan next to me, both of us gasping at the stunning sight before us. We stood on a mountain top, green grass blowing in the wind, gray clouds billowing in the silver sky.
“What just happened?” Siobhan asked.
I shook my head. “No idea.” Stepping through the threshold I landed on top of the mountain. I turned back towards the door, but the prison was gone. From this side of the threshold, it was a small wood entry to a rustic cabin that sat alone on top of the mountain.
“What the fuck?” My whisper was lost in the wind that stroked my face.
“Welcome to the Queen’s land,” Walsh smiled at us, his silver hair lifting across his forehead. He knocked on the door of the small wooden hut.
I glanced at Siobhan. She looked like she was about to faint. But I wasn’t going to save her. Shit. We were Ravensgaard. And if Ravensgaard could do this kind of magic, we sure as hell had to be able to stand by to witness it.
It was as if we were expected. As Walsh’s hand raised for the third knock, the carved oak portal creaked open.
11
She stood in a midnight black dress, high cut with flowing sleeves, held tight around the waist by a broad leather belt. I’m not sure I’d ever seen anything blacker than her hair, which flowed in ebony curls across her shoulders. Her face was thin and even in this magical gray light I could make out the fine lines that traced her angular features. And sitting nestled in her hair was a glinting diamond tiara, the dark crown of the Ravensgaard Queen.
“My queen,” I said, immediately curtsying and bowing my head low.
“Davin,” her voice was a lyrical harmony even in that single word. “Daughter and heir of House Cavanagh. My granddaughter.”
She stepped out of the doorway, arms open wide as she came forward and lifted me up in a full, strong embrace. Words choked in my throat as I stood limply letting her hold me. All the years of wondering who I was and where I came from melted away as my face rested on the silk covering her thin shoulder. A warmth rose within me as slowly I brought my arms up and let my defenses down. Love emanated from her, rolling over me with unconditional kindness that shook loose all the pain inside and dropped it in tears tracing down my cheeks.
“You found me,” she smiled, stepping back and holding me at arms length as she looked me over. “By the Morrigan you look like your father.” Tears dampened her eyes.
My brain was a mess. Thoughts jumbled together, a list of questions I had thought I needed answered suddenly disappeared. All the who am I? What happened? Where do I belong? Questions that had been haunting me my entire life simply vanished.
This was my grandmother.
I was home.
“Walsh, build us a fire,” the queen said, as she turned to Siobhan. “I am dearly sorry for your loss, my dear. The Murphys were some of the finest, most loyal Ravensgaard I have ever known. They are dearly missed. Just know you will carry on their heritage. Their strength runs in your veins.”
Siobhan’s eyes misted up. “They always believed in you and swore featly only to the royal house.”
A weak smile played on the queen’s lips. “Come, let us sit,” she said, drawing us to the outdoor hearth that was now a blazing fire. She sat on a large wooden chair, leaning against the back rest while Siobhan and I made ourselves comfortable on benches. “I’m afraid my cabin is small, so this will have to do for this evening. We only have a short time before you must go.”
“Go?” I asked. “I don’t want to go, my lady.”
“Please, call me Mhor,” she smiled at me.
“Mhor?” I asked.
“Mathair Mhor,” she said with a shrug. “Granny.”
“Mathair Mhor.” I let the word flow over my tongue and out my lips. I had a real blood family.
She exhaled deeply as if we were experiencing the same thing. “I’ve waiting a long time to hear those words, my dear.”
“You made all this, your highness?” Siobhan asked in awe, waving her hand to the epic landscape that surrounded us.
“No.” She shook her head lightly. “You are on Mount Carrauntoohil, just near Castle Brannach. The door are portals leading here.”
“I- I married the Murtagh heir.” The shameful words blurted out of my mouth. “The ones who keep you imprisoned.” The confusion that roiled in my body must have shown on my face, because she leaned forward and lay a comforting hand on mine.
“Do I look imprisoned?” she asked kindly.
“But they usurped you. They killed my parents and keep you away from your people. They have taken your crown.”
“Does it look taken to you?” she asked, tipping her head forward slightly so the large central diamond of the tiara glowed in the firelight. “Aw no. The story you tell is as it may seem on the outside, but no, my dear. House Cavanagh is the only bloodline that can hold the crown. It is still ours today.”
“They kept you prisoner and stole me from you.” I said.
The Queen’s eye’s narrowed.<
br />
I swallowed. “Didn’t they?”
She stared quietly like an elegant statue out across the horizon. “It is true they killed your parents,” she said. “Every year our family would drive through the realm in our vehicles on the anniversary of your grandfather’s birthday. There was no way we could not do the annual pilgramage. But by then I knew it was too late. Murtagh had already turned most of the generals against me. He claimed I was a sorceress and knew nothing of protecting the clan.” She snorted as she said this. “I gave everything for the protection of the Ravensgaard. Even my son’s life.”
“My father,” I whispered.
She nodded. “And I gave up my beloved granddaughter.”
“What happened?” Siobhan asked, leaning forward and warming her hands on the heat rising from the fire.
“He trapped us. We knew they were planning a hit on that route, but we didn’t know where. No matter what I did, we couldn’t find out.” Her face was hard and stern in the firelight. She was not a woman I would want to cross. “It was your father’s decision,” she said quietly. “I tried to argue and reason with him, but he’d set his mind and that man was more stubborn than his father. He decided we would surprise them by taking two vehicles, knowing they could only trap one at a time. He and your mother were driven on the regular route, while you and I followed in a second. When Murtagh cut off your father’s vehicle and gunned him and your mother down, I escaped with you in my claws.”
“You held a three-year-old child as a raven?” Siobhan looked amazed.
The queen shook her head. “I used magic to shift her into the baby raven she was and carried that small bird away with me. It took all the energy I had. We barely made it to the cornfield.” Her eyes flickered to Walsh. “But we already had this planned. Whoever survived would return here. I lost my son and daughter-in-law that day, but I have always praised the Morrigan for saving your life.”
I swallowed. “I- I married into that murderous family.” Tears stung at my eyes.
“It is good,” she said holding my hand tight. “I told Walsh not to bring you to me until after the wedding had happened.”
