The Park Family: Mairi: Retribution

by Lisanne Valente

  “And do you think all that we have discussed may come to pass?” asked Amdusias.

  “That a Dragon war begins because two dragons killed a Fae, then left him in full sight, for all in Tír na nÔg to see? I doubt the Fae will have much choice in the matter but to go to war against the Dragon to defend their people. We can only hope the stupid demons’ glamour lasts long enough for them to do as they have been requested.”

  “Hush, one of them returns.”

  Amdusias and Baal were surprised when a demon opened Mairi’s cage and removed her, disappearing with her in his arms.

  “Now that’s a turn up for the books. I can’t wait to hear the outcome of this little charade.” Amdusias laughed.

  “The Conjurer willing, we will not only hear it but will see it also, in our true forms, and then we will have our own retribution on the little king.” Baal’s laughter could be heard throughout the levels of Hell, reaching The Conjurer himself.

  “You have to admit, Amdusias, although Lucias is without doubt completely off his rocker, he is a genius at starting wars.”

  “How so?” asked Amdusias.

  “Well… who among us thought to cross through The Veil and dispose of a Fae, then blame the Dragon? Who among us thought to encourage the Fae to fight with Demon and kill Dragon?”

  “I get your point, but it doesn’t make him a genius—it makes him an idiot.”

  “Why do you say thus?”

  “Because the Fae Queen will congregate all the sectors in Tír na nÔg, and they will join forces against the Demon. Did he think of this, your genius? No, he lets his hate rule his head and his mother rule his hate. He’s an idiot. We will be released from this prison before we know it, and then we shall get our own retribution on all we despise.”

  “The Witches…” Amdusias said gleefully.

  Mairi was thrown into Xaphan’s arms on Lucias’s command when they headed towards The Veil. He desperately thought of the various ways he had of contacting the Infidelibus, but it was proving impossible.

  Lucias was commanding an army, leading them through a tear in The Veil that would take them into Tír na nÔg to destroy both Fae and Dragon. The tear would lead them to Prince Seere’s castle, Kisimul, where he was keeping Valerie safe from this madman who believed her to be his future wife. Xaphan held back from the Demon kings, hoping he would be able to disguise himself and disappear from the marauding hordes. It was not to pass. Lucias saw him stumbling and delaying, and he flashed to his side and held him.

  “Now!” he screamed.

  Xaphan gaped in horror as the hordes began to dissolve, and the kings raised their wings. The earth opened before them, and Xaphan felt his own body melt away into the black haze surrounding him, dragging him into another world.

  When the light stopped shining and the world stopped spinning, Xaphan opened his eyes to find himself in Seere’s Great Hall.

  Seere searched Xaphan’s face for answers, but he could not let it be known. Seere saw Mairi lying in his arms and took a step nearer. To his side sat the kings and queens of Tír na nÔg together with Valerie, the Mistdreamer.

  Xaphan sent out a silent cry of warning, but Seere appeared to be unbothered when Lucias’s army began to crowd the room.

  “Seize the Mistdreamer!” Lucias shouted to two demons.

  “I think not,” the deep, dangerous voice of Serapiel, the First Lieutenant of the Second Fae Guard, demanded.

  Lucias shrieked with rage and, raising a finger in a slicing motion, cut the heads from the two demons. The heads rolled in different directions before stopping at the feet of two more Fae Guard.

  Xaphan, unable to do anything other than protect Mairi, who lay in his arms, watched in astonishment when Fae appeared all around them. The large room should be stuffed full of bodies, waiting to battle, but it was as though only the four were in the hall. They stood around Flauros and Marchiosas, closing them in, preventing them from taking part in the fight that had begun between Seere and Lucias.

  Lucias’s magic was strong, and at every opportunity, he held someone hostage to gain advantage over Seere. Talons of black magic were thrown about the room, but countered by the magic of the Fae queens.

  Lucias was losing. He was bested by Seere, and his frustration was changing his appearance. When Seere gained the advantage and scored his elongated dragon talons across Lucias’s face, they ripped apart his skin, and filth bubbled and oozed out. He was no longer the handsome man; his face had warped into a crone’s aged face, returning and changing every few seconds. Lucias held his face, hoping to salvage the mess, when Seere struck with another talon, slicing through his stomach.

  Seere waited for Lucias’s life to end. He had dealt a killer blow, but he held his own stomach as well. He was trying to find Valerie and make sure his men were safe, when a knife flew into his chest. Lucias had kept it hidden, and Seere hadn’t noticed it on his person. Seere pulled at it, hoping to remove it, when Lucias hurled another wave of magical energy, sending Seere flying across the room and into the wall, his head lying at an awkward angle.

  Valerie let out a shriek of anger, and a light force was propelled across the room, killing countless demons, whom she ran over as they exploded into ash, to get to Seere’s side.

  Mairi became restless in Xaphan’s arms when Valerie’s scream broke into her dark world. It began to draw her away from the dimension she had become lost in, thanks to Lucias. Xaphan held her even closer, calming her, and when Lucias flashed beside him, he was so wrapped up in keeping Mairi safe, he was unaware of the knife until it entered his body. Yet he steadfastly refused to let go of her. He wouldn’t take the chance. Without him she might die. He called to Omniel. “I hear you, Xaphan. Sleep,” Omniel answered.

  “I have Mairi…”

  Just as the words were said, Lucias pulled Mairi from his arms, and he fell to the ground, his life force slowly leaving his body.

  The room became swathed in an intense light, causing demons and Fae to cover their eyes for fear of being blinded, when Omniel and the Infidelibus made their grand entrance. The powerful force emanating from their light threw demons high into the air, where they flipped over, before sending them crashing against the walls, where they exploded into ash that floated as dust to the ground.

  Xaphan heard Valerie scream again when a Dragon appeared as if from nowhere, swooping down and grabbing Lucias with its claws. “That’s the dragon who took Cassiel!” she yelled. Xaphan opened his eyes for the last time to see Paschar sweep into the room wearing the glamour of a silver dragon and search around for his traitorous friend. When located, Paschar grabbed Lucias, who was still stunned by the Archangel’s entrance, becoming so distracted Appoloin took control of the moment and removed Mairi from his arms, a millisecond before they vanished.

  Flauros came forward to speak, but when held back by a Fae spear, he could not hide his contempt for the guard. “I believe you are still at a disadvantage,” he said smoothly.

  Serapiel removed the spear his lieutenant held against Flauros, and said, “I think not. I believe we, the Fae and Dragon, outnumber you three to one.”

  Flauros scanned the room, taking note of the numbers of the opposition. “I believe we have underestimated you on this occasion. But this is not over.” He sneered. “We will live to fight another day, but the next time, you had better be prepared. You should be ready for the ending, because it will not be in your favour.”

  Turning his back on the Angels, Fae and Dragon, Flauros shouted for all the demons to depart, and with a flourish of hand, he sliced across the centre of the room, and an aperture opened, revealing the gates of Hell. The once-crowded room turned into a cloud of dust before it was sucked into the opening, and the Demon Army departed, taking the carnage of the Dragon War with them.

  Omniel ran a finger across the opening, and speaking in a language known only to Angels, he sealed the tear.

  Valerie lay over her wounded husband, Seere. Xaphan had died, and there was no sign of Pasc
har or Lucias.

  “Appoloin, we must take our wounded to the witch Lesley, so that she may repair their wounds. I will heal what I can, but I am limited,” Omniel said unhappily, looking upon Xaphan’s body. “As is Ambriel. Take the Mistdreamer farther away from here. Take her back as far as you can, and hide her. Keep her safe until we know what will and must be done.”

  “You will contact me, Omniel?” he asked.

  “Only if necessary, and hopefully not at all. Take the Mistdreamer, and let her health and well-being return. You can contact us the usual way, but if you require our assistance at any time, take this.” Omniel plucked a feather from his wings and placed it on Appoloin’s back. A light emanated from his hands as he gently forced it into Appoloin’s skin. When it was secure, a flash of white light shot out, sealing the celestial connection.

  “Go now, Appoloin,” he insisted.

  Appoloin flexed his wings, and felt a tightening around the area where the new feather grew, but it only lasted a few seconds. Spanning his wings wide, in preparation for flight, he made sure Mairi was safe and sleeping soundly. Voices buzzed all around him, and he concentrated on Omniel. He wanted to say farewell to his friends, but time was of the essence. With a small gesture to Omniel, a thousand unspoken words were shared. He raised his head to the roof and waited until the skies appeared. Pulling his wings back, he pushed his chest out and, with a deep breath, soared into the sky.

  Omniel waved his hand in a large semicircle, and the sky tore apart. Thousands of stars appeared in space, moons and suns glittered and winked. The minute Appoloin flew into the open space, Omniel waved his hand in the opposite direction, sealing the aperture.

  “Keep our Mistdreamer out of harm’s way, Angel. Let her life become the magic to heal and end this travesty.” Omniel sighed, his face still upturned to the sky.

  “Come, Omniel,” Ambriel said gently. “We have much to do here. Xaphan needs your help, and Seere is no longer with us.”

  Omniel walked toward the weeping Valerie and began the next stage of the Mistdreaming Prophecy.

  *

  Mairi moved very carefully. Lucias was gone. He had slapped her hard enough to knock her out, and she had willingly gone into a delightful sleep, to a dreamland, where she rested safely, but without dreams. She had attempted to reach her mist and move into mistdream but had been too exhausted, both mentally and physically.

  However, even in sleep, she could hear whispers in the background, but they weren’t threatening, just men talking about war…War?

  She sat up and took a good look around her. She was still in Princes Street Gardens, and the castle stood ominously above her, guarding Edinburgh city, and the music was coming loud and clear from the bandstand.

  Checking herself, she was pleased to find she was once again wearing clothes. She could have sworn Lucias removed them… before his attack. She would not use the vile word. She would not give him that power over her, because until she did admit he had raped her, her body was her own and not a used plaything for a mad demon.

  No, she would keep her sanity in check, and she would live.

  Brushing the grass from her jeans, she took a tentative step towards the bandstand and was pleased she was not suffering any undue pain. Another step and another, and before she knew it, she was looking up into the Angelic face of David Bowie.

  She sat in the lotus position, Bowie’s voice warming her, soothing her with his words as she found her centre and her inner peace.

  “I’m changing trains,” he crooned.

  Mairi smiled to herself. I love this song, she thought.

  “Train overdue

  “Angels have gone…”

  Mairi heard the words he sang for her.

  “I’m changing trains

  “Angels like them…”

  “Mairi, why are you here?”

  Mairi’s eyes popped open in shock. When she realised who was standing beside her, she let out a scream and ran into the waiting arms of her Uncle Callum.

  “Why are you here, Mairi?” asked Callum, as though he had just seen her the day before.

  Avoiding the question, Mairi asked one of her own. “Uncle Callum, why don’t you return to your Form, which lies in your bed, in Edinburgh? Why do you stay here?”

  Callum held Mairi’s hand and led her to one of the seats in front of the bandstand. Bowie had stopped singing and was watching them curiously. He glanced to his side, and Marc Bolan walked onto the stage. Callum waved at him and Marc smiled in acknowledgement.

  “Wow,” Mairi said. “I am impressed. How do you know them?”

  “You’re in Betwixt, Mairi, neither Heaven nor Hell.”

  “I gathered that, but why are Bowie and Bolan here? They’re not Mistdreamers, are they?”

  “They choose to be here, Mairi. They are not ready to move to the next stage of their lives, and they are invaluable help to everyone who comes here.”

  “Invaluable?” Mairi wasn’t sure what he meant by that—yes, Bowie had helped her through the bad times. “How so?”

  “Their songs, have you heard the words, Mairi? Pay attention in mistdream. Have you not been taught this?”

  Mairi was irked by her uncle’s reprimand. “Of course I’ve been taught to do that, but it’s not every day you meet your uncle who’s been missing for a couple of years and get to hear the legendary Bowie, in person, and see Marc Bolan. I can’t wait to hear them sing together.”

  ‘Mairi,” Callum said patiently, “you cannot stay here. You must leave this place.”

  Mairi started to panic. Lucias would find her if she left. It was much easier to stay in Betwixt with her uncle.

  “He has already been here, the one you are thinking about. The dark one.”

  Mairi was impressed. “Wow, you can read minds now, Uncle Callum? When did that little trick happen?”

  Callum leaned forward and took her hands in his, his beautiful brown eyes smiling sadly at her. “I have learned many ‘little tricks’ on this plane, Mairi. Some I am not very proud of, but they have kept my soul alive and my sanity intact.”

  “You have to go home, Uncle Callum. Lauren needs you. She misses you, and now that she has the twins, your grandsons will want to know their grandfather. Surely you want to be able to play with them? Why do you linger, Uncle Callum?”

  Callum dropped his head onto his chest as though in defeat, and when he eventually straightened, he shifted his gaze from his feet to Mairi’s face and spoke sincerely.

  “I miss my girl. I love her with my whole heart. I cannot believe she has children and the sorrow I have at not being part of their lives, will be my punishment in the hereafter. But, Mairi, I cannot return. I must stay. There is much of which you are unaware. There are so many things still to come. I hear them whispering, and sometimes I can make out what they say, but then they stop as though they know I am eavesdropping. They have never found me. I hide in the shadows, and they cannot see me. When I am certain of what it is they speak, I will come back.”

  Mairi closed her eyes and hugged her uncle, but Callum became rigid under her touch. Mairi wouldn’t give up. It was good to be in his arms, to smell him and know he was real. He relaxed, eventually, and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

  Mairi cried out, not wishing for the embrace to end, but as he held her, the power coming from his strong arms, pressed against her cuts and bruises.

  Callum held her at arm’s length, curious at her reaction. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you, lass? I don’t know my own strength, and I haven’t had a cuddle in a few years.”

  “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just the bruises are still fresh, and—”

  “Mairi, Mairi!” a small voice shouted at her from across the other side of the Gardens.

  Mairi wrinkled her brow. Callum shrugged his shoulders, but she could tell he was preparing to disappear. He left her and moved beside the stage. David Bowie immediately sat beside him, while Marc Bolan plucked away at his guitar.

  S
he turned to see who was calling her name and, if she was ever asked in the future what was her biggest surprise in life, she would have to say that looking at a small dragon, in Betwixt had to be high in the ranking.

  “Mairi,” he said again, “you have to leave here.”

  Mairi’s heart began to hammer, and terror fell over her like ice water. She regained a little composure, asking, “Who might you be, little dragon?”

  “I’m Drewlitius, and you know my mom.” The little chap introduced himself.

  Mairi raised her eyes and shifted her head from side to side, hoping she could recall his mother. “Nope, the only dragon I know is Prince Seere, unless your mom is Valerie?” she asked excitedly. Now that would be interesting, Mairi thought, if Valerie had a dragon son.

  Drewlitius giggled and covered his mouth with his tiny hand.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not just a dragon,” he said, and his body began to change into that of a little boy. “I’m half-human as well, and I think I’m a Mistdreamer, like you, or maybe that’s how come I’m here… or maybe I died. Did you die, is that why you don’t want to go back?”

  Mairi walked over to him and sat on the grass beside him. “Well, you very well could be a Mistdreamer if you’ve come to Betwixt. I’m not sure anyone else can come here.”

  “What about them?” he asked. “And the man who left,” he said, pointing to the singers, on the stage.

  Mairi jerked around. It was true, her uncle had gone. He hadn’t even taken the time to say goodbye.

  “Well, let me try to remember what my Uncle Callum said—and, before you ask,” she said, redirecting the question she could already see forming on the child’s lips, “he’s a Mistdreamer, yes. Where was I?” She touched her chin. “Oh, yes, Bowie and Bolan… They’re here to help, and when they sing songs, we should listen to the words because there’s always a meaning in what they’re singing. I think I’ve got that right.”

  “And did one of their songs tell you, you had to get out of here?”