The Park Family: Mairi: Retribution

by Lisanne Valente

  When her body began to dissolve into mistdream, her stars flew everywhere, and tiny fragments of light surrounded Valerie, who delighted in the peace emanating from Mairi, as she became wrapped in her mist. Not taking her eyes from her, she looked on carefully, ensuring nothing would steal her cousin again.

  When all that remained was the faint outline of her face, highlighted in thousands of tiny brilliant stars, she whispered over to Valerie.

  “I got married as well, Valerie. Appoloin and I, we are together, forever.” And then she was gone, her stars following her as she shot into another realm, sealing the tear in The Veil, allowing her to make her way to a new life.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Elemiah was a very worried Archangel. He knew he’d stepped out of heavenly boundaries and regulations in the Dragon War. He had saved Xaphan’s life by allowing him to become mortal, and because the Mistdreamer Valerie had been so upset at the death of her husband, the Demon Prince Seere, he had been obliged to give life back to him as well.

  He feared for The Infidelibus, a set of Angels established to ensure the safety of the Mistdreamers, who were very gradually dwindling away.

  He had taken a role within this elite group, when Forcas had married Lauren, but his duties as an Archangel were plentiful, and equally as important as those essential in regard to the Mistdreamers. He had to attend to his obligations on Betwixt, and he had reached the limits of his ability to spread his time in every direction.

  Xaphan and Seere could no longer remain now they were human, and so it was imperative they find replacements for them. That was, he thought, until it happened… and it was going to be soon.

  They had to find more Angels to join the Infidelibus, or they would all die.

  Elemiah stood very proudly in his celestial home, which lay deep in the bowels of Betwixt, that land which lay in a suspended sector between all the universes. It was a place for nomads and journeymen. A port to rest, before travelling on to another realm. It harboured the good, the indifferent, the lost, and the evil, and none could cross paths with the other, unless invited.

  Elemiah ruled Betwixt, or as he preferred to say, he was the overseer. He could not, however, control those who visited and then shifted to another universe. He did not have an omnivisual mirror, allowing him to see everything and everyone in the land. He could, on the other hand, feel disturbances in the atmosphere, when a journeying soul arrived.

  He had felt such disturbances recently and knew the wavelengths that hit him were those caused by Lucias, and there was no doubt in his mind, the young devil was up to no good. But he was unable to discern anything other than that he had arrived, and just as quickly, he had left.

  There had been other waves of disruption, and he was certain they were caused by the Mistdreamer Callum. Having the gift of mistdream allowed him to walk between the universes, in his body. However, the disruption he had felt recently, was similar to that of travelling souls who ventured into the land, wishing for peace.

  Those newly passed over from the mortal plane, who were not ready to accept their death, or perhaps they needed to heal from the illnesses they had suffered elsewhere, before they moved on to the Heavenly realms. They were generally gentle souls, and so their atmospheric disturbance caused no great harm to Betwixt.

  Lucias, on the other hand, had caused a tidal wave of disruption, and Elemiah was unable to discover what he had been up to when visiting, but the pain he had caused while here had left a lingering effect of sadness, and it was one he had to dispel. It was disrupting the equanimity of the Realm.

  His sons, Iuchar and Fiacha, were beside him, champagne glasses in hand, waiting to celebrate.

  After witnessing the end of the Battle of the Dragon, and undertaking the giving of life, he had reunited with his son, Cassiel, the child who had been borne of Jocelyn. He had been tortured and almost broken by Lucias, and was gravely ill. It had not taken him long to realise his will to live had left him. He was dying, and in death, he offered all that he could, to save another. He gave what was left of his life’s blood to the child Drewlitius. The child had been attacked by Paschar, and lay in a state of unconsciousness in the infirmary. His mother, the witch Lesley, attended him.

  When his father, Sebastian, second-in-command to Prince Seere, insisted they allow the child to die, his twin brother, Mikelitius, had demanded they listen to him. He promised that his brother was only sleeping, even though there were no outward signs of life. When Cassiel heard the boy’s entreaties, he asked that the parents take his life’s energy to heal their son.

  Lesley and Sebastian were adamant that Cassiel retain his life, even though the thought of losing their son broke their hearts. They believed nature and the Angels would take care of him, if that was the will of the universe.

  Cassiel stepped up to the mark and refused to listen to them, and with his last breath, saved the boy. The boy, when receiving the new energy, woke declaring he was now a Mistdreamer and that he had found Mairi in Betwixt!

  Elemiah was waiting for his son’s arrival to Betwixt, en route to the Heavens. Here, his body and mind would heal, and at last, he and his brothers would get to discuss the life he’d endured, since last they’d seen him.

  They had known him all his life, and had grown to manhood together in the Fae Palace of King Finvarra. He was left on the steps of the Fae palace as a newborn baby. His mother, Jocelyn, had believed it was the only option to save his life. His sister, Angela, would have stopped at nothing to kill him had she known of his whereabouts. If she had found out about him, she would have convinced her husband, Balam, to raise an army and invade Tír na nÔg, just to get to Cassiel. Should that have happened, hundreds, maybe thousands, of Fae would have died, and the Dragon would have been captured.

  Elemiah took a deep breath and steadied himself. The very thought of the chaos Angela could have inflicted made him distressed.

  The air in the room changed, and shards of light sparked all around, when Cassiel made his entrance.

  “Welcome, Brother,” Iuchar said and handed a glass of liquid to him.

  “Welcome, Son. You found your way home, then?” Elemiah asked with un-contained pride.

  “Welcome, little brother.” Fiacha laughed and slapped him on the back, an act he had done thousands of times when in Tír na nÔg. They had trained together, became brothers, friends, and soldiers together, neither knowing they were, in truth, brothers in blood.

  “How fare thee, Son?” asked Elemiah.

  Cassiel shook his head, overcome with emotion. He warmly accepted the glass from Iuchar and the handshake from his father and the bear hug from Fiacha.

  My father, could this be real? he thought.

  “Yes, Son, I am your father, as I said in Fae’s land. I regret you were kept ignorant of my identity, but we had to keep you safe. My own dear Jocelyn came up with the plan.”

  Elemiah frowned. “You were treated well by the Fae, were you not?”

  “It’s a bit late to ask that… Father.” He stammered the address, unsure of the reaction he would get. His whole life, he had wanted to belong to a family, and looking back, he saw that he had always been part of one, he just didn’t know it.

  “But, yes, I was treated as a son to King Finvarra and Queen Oonagh. They loved me as though their own, and when the time was right, they sent me on a path of manhood, whereby I fought alongside my brothers. If I speak in all honesty, the realisation they are true brothers does not surprise me, because they were always my family. I just didn’t know that we shared the same blood.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” Fiacha laughed and refilled the glasses with amber nectar.

  “I will drink to anything,” Iuchar said as he clinked glasses with his brothers.

  Elemiah smiled, from outside the circle, metaphorically bathed in the warmth that was coming from the brothers’ reunion. How many more of his children should he introduce to them? Because he had many more, but these three were the future.

  The Proph
ecy, he contemplated, how, and whom, were his three sons to lead, and what had the Angels and Fae written in the Book of Angels?

  “You are deep in thought, Father,” Cassiel stated. “Is there a problem you would care to share with us, one that we could solve together?”

  Elemiah sighed. “I have a great concern, and one I am not sure you can be party to, at the moment.”

  “Then perhaps you should share the problem, partially, and we could work it out from there, Father,” Iuchar said logically.

  “Or just the last part,” Fiacha said. “The answer is always in the last part of a problem, I’ve always thought. Don’t you agree, Father?”

  Elemiah studied Fiacha carefully. It was as though he knew what was on his mind, but how was that possible?

  “You are all aware of the Infidelibus?” It was a rhetorical question, and he didn’t expect a response. “These are the Angels who have guarded the Mistdreamers for centuries. They now find themselves without the necessary numbers to protect those who have served us all, for so long.”

  “You believe the Mistdreamers are in danger?” Cassiel asked, alarmed. “Even the little dragon boy? His life is also in peril now?”

  Elemiah understood Cassiel’s distress. He had given up his core in order the child could live, but it was essential they all realised what was at stake.

  “I am sorry to have to tell you, Cassiel. Unfortunately, it is the case—yes, the boy Drewlitius is in grave danger, especially now he has your mistdreaming abilities. You must understand, the Demons have to rid the worlds of them, and they are planning something quite spectacular, of that I am in no doubt.”

  “It can only be war,” Cassiel said flatly, “and if Lucias is involved, it will be a bloody one, with the innocents dying.”

  “That is war,” Elemiah said pragmatically. “Long gone are the days when it was man against man. We live in a time when it is easier to kill the innocent. Sad times, indeed.”

  “We are talking about mortals here, are we not?” asked Iuchar. “Unless you believe we also will take the lives of innocents. Do you, Father?”

  “I do not believe we intend to, but they are caught in our cross-fire. We do all we can to prevent the loss of those who should live, but we cannot be everywhere.”

  Elemiah took a breath before continuing. “This is what I must speak with you about.”

  “You want us to join the Infidelibus?” Fiacha said directly.

  Closing his eyes he held firm to his conflicting emotions, Elemiah waited for a few seconds before answering, “I do not want you to join them, no. I do not want to put my sons in the mouth of danger. I will ask you, if you would be prepared to take a stand with the Infidelibus and join them in their plight to save the Mistdreamer. I do not insist you do this, nor would I judge you if you turned the request down—”

  “I’m up for it,” Cassiel said immediately.

  “And me,” Fiacha and Iuchar said together.

  Elemiah shook his head. “Please, boys, I have only just got you together under the one roof as my family. I do insist you take time to think about this before agreeing to that which might kill you and send you far from here into the Unknown Territory. I cannot reach you if you end up there.”

  “You are telling us, the great Manannán mac Lir, the leader who took the Fae into their new home in Tír na nÔg, cannot find his sons?” asked Fiacha. “It’s ironic, that you can find safe haven for them, but you would be unable to trace your long-lost sons. I believe there is more to this than you are sharing.”

  “You know there is, Son,” Elemiah admitted, “and I have shared all that I can with you at present, but you could be right.” He smiled. “I may have a way of tracing those who enter that zone.”

  “I’m certain of that,” agreed Iuchar. “You’ll have some kind of Angelic tracer put into our blood.”

  “You’re not far away with that thought,” Elemiah concurred. “I have yet to develop it fully and would like the time to finish my calculations before you join the Infidelibus.”

  “Do you have time?” asked Cassiel.

  “I fear not. The universes have shifted, and the mood is tense. All are aware of the disturbances that are coming and are preparing for the worst. That is why I ask you to speak with the Infidelibus today.”

  “How far along are you with your invention?” asked Cassiel.

  “I have developed it to the point where I can find something within a fairly good radius. The problem is, I have to search to find the radius to begin with. If I can develop it so that the area is clearly detected, then I am winning.”

  “You’re talking about the mortal GPS, are you not?” asked Iuchar.

  “Very similar,” Elemiah said excitedly. “The problem is, I have to inject it into blood, and Angel blood, at that, which we know is made of different components than those of human blood.”

  “Can’t you vary whatever it is, to suit our blood?” asked Iuchar.

  “I’m working on the formula for that, but as yet, I have become stuck in every path I research.

  “There is so much at stake here. I can’t get it wrong, and whilst we know wrong blood transfusion results in death, and you would thus end up in the very place I would be trying to find, closely similar blood type infusion can cause a variety of problems. We don’t yet know what Angel blood type actually is, as, in comparison to human blood, it has unknown characteristics and adapts to the animal to which it is transfused. If I inject you with the wrong formula, your blood may adapt and become that which I am injecting you with. It may have a reaction that, depending upon your character traits, or your personality, may have wildly differing outcomes.”

  “How so?” asked Biorna.

  “It could end in death, and if that is the case, I have lost you to the Unknown Territory, or other equally catastrophic reactions.” Elemiah rubbed his unruly hair, in frustration. “It could be similar to being given the wrong blood type, which might result in the complete destruction of any ability to function.”

  “And the best outcome?”

  Ignoring the sarcasm in Cassiel’s question, Elemiah continued, “There could be less severe levels, a severe febrile illness.

  “That’s where I’m having difficulties. I can’t figure out whether or not the chemical I inject will be absorbed by your blood, or simply be dissolved. It may cause a reaction and you would end up in the Unknown Territory. I need more time to make it right.”

  “But you don’t have time,” Cassiel stressed.

  “How far along the process are you?” asked Fiacha.

  “I have broken down the red cells, you know, those that contain haemoglobin and carry the oxygen. Plasma and broken fragments of old damaged red blood cells, they are the type that help with blood clotting after injury, and are the ones I am concentrating upon. If the damaged cells help to assist the blood in clotting, then they could be the answer to my problem.”

  “How so?” said Iuchar, as he helped himself to another glass of ambrosia.

  “If they help ‘mend’ the blood agents that begin the blood-clotting process, then they could be the cells to work on, rather than healthy oxygenated variety.”

  “If the red blood cell is already damaged, but still has value to the blood, as it obviously does, then should I inject you with my tracing agent, I need to be sure it doesn’t try to mend it, but instead, that it works with the rest of the blood cells. If the broken red cells then become the GPS system and mend the rest of the blood, then all the cells would become the antenna for me.”

  “Basically, you want us to be Angelic satellite dishes.” Cassiel was going through all the possible outcomes Elemiah had given. It would be a risk, but if it worked, then every Angel lost to the Unknown Territory could be found.

  “It’s a risk worth taking,” he eventually said. “Who knows what we might find if we end up over there. A bit like Betwixt, I had no idea, here, was divided into the four sectors of Hell.”

  “We are not in Hell,” Elemiah insisted. �
��Betwixt is a realm of its own, with four territories, visitors and occupants of each zone, cannot cross into the other.”

  “But you rule over all of them?” asked Fiacha.

  “I have ultimate rule, yes, but that doesn’t mean I can wander into the closed areas and see who, or what is going on. It’s a bit like the Cavernis. Betwixt is a place to heal, to prepare, to hide, and to wait without fear of being discovered.”

  “And this is why I came here, you say? This is why Callum is here, and Mairi was here?” asked Cassiel angrily.

  “If you came here, Cassiel, I would no more know of it than I would the conversations taking place in the Cavernis. I would only hear of your visit to Betwixt should one of the Angels inform me. I, for instance, am aware of Callum’s life here because of previous discussions with those ready to move on from Betwixt.

  “Callum is here for a purpose. He is here to work out what it is necessary of him to accomplish before he moves on to the Heavens.”

  “And he’ll move there?” asked Iuchar.

  “Most definitely, but I cannot say when or how. We’re concerned a bit, because before his ‘death’, he was infused with Angel breath. That worries the Archangel, as it has never been done before.”

  “A bit like your new tracing blood.” Fiacha laughed.

  “Exactly that. We don’t know if he will cross over, or if his Form will lie forever on the earth’s plane. We are unsure if he will be an Angel with a body, or like the Cherubim, a spiritual, flighty thing.”

  Cassiel started to laugh. “Knowing the Mistdreamers, I cannot imagine any one of their fathers having any kind of ‘flighty’ persona! They’re strong, tall Scotsman, are they not? They are warriors and guardians. I cannot perceive any one of them floating around singing sweet melodies and playing harps.”

  “That is our concern also, and it’s an unknown factor we must include in any decisions we make in the future, and that is why we leave Callum on Betwixt. He will be the one to decide his fate.”