The Park Family: Mairi: Retribution

by Lisanne Valente

  “Of course she will,” Michael assured him, “but she will need someone she loves to be there for them, to guide them, to love them, and hold them when they are sick or sad. She will stroke their foreheads and whisper love into their minds, but there is so much more for Mairi to do on our side, with Appoloin. She cannot be here to take care of these little boys but can watch them through her mist’s eyes..”

  Adramelechk sighed deeply. “I am up to the challenge. I can take care of them. How hard can it be bringing up two little boys? I cannot replace a father, but I will do my best.”

  Michael kept his laughter in check, managing to prevent the twitches of amusement escape, but was unable to retain a cough of release. “You will not be alone in this task. You will have Kakabel to assist you. He has decided to come to this century and keep an eye on you, and believes Graeme may require a little guidance.”

  “A little guidance?” Omniel interrupted.

  Michael chose to ignore the interruption and continued. “I hope, between the three of you, you will find some way of coping.”

  “Omniel!” Adramelechk yelled. “You have the power to heal. Come! Heal my Mistdreamer,” he insisted.

  “Have you not heard Michael?” Omniel asked as he neared. “How bad is she in death—”

  He was Adramelechk’s last hope. Omniel had helped Seere and others. Why was he unable to help his Mistdreamer? Omniel took a step closer to judge for himself and gasped, as did the other Archangels.

  Mairi and Appoloin’s forms suddenly disappeared, and Adramelechk was left holding onto fresh air.

  “What! What!” he spluttered. “Where are they? What have you done with them?” he asked furiously.

  Michael was as shocked as the others. “I tell you, brother Angel, we have done nothing with your Mistdreamer.”

  “She has been taken to the next levels of the heavens,” said Raphael.

  “It is true?” asked Michael.

  “She no longer has her form on this plane. They have chosen to remove her above the virtuous on level four, above the saints on level three, and she will remain, with Appoloin and with us,”—he looked to Omniel and Michael—“on the second level of the Heavens, restricted only to Archangels.”

  “Say this is true?” he asked Omniel.

  “I cannot say anything other than agree with Raphael. I have only ever seen this happen once before.”

  “When was that?” Adramelechk wanted to believe Raphael”s assurances, and he was not just trying to pacify him. It was a place, befitting of his Mistdreamer and her love. They should be recognised for all they had done to help the Angels, but he wanted the Archangels to confirm it.

  “I say it is so,” said Raphael, “and the only time I have witnessed it before, was with Omniel.”

  Omniel nodded his head in agreement. “In the beginning, I fell from the Heavens. At that time, there were only the seven Archangels, and you were in the process of the Creator’s making. But I was lost and alone. We Angels cannot live without love or passion, and so I died. Raphael found me and brought me back to the Heavens, so many millennia ago, and my form came with me. I was taken to the second level and there, was once again accepted as Archangel and blessed with the many gifts that go along with that title. I was as these two loving spirits, with body.”

  He smiled at Adramelechk. “Dry your eyes. We three will speak with them later, when they are healed, and we will consider ourselves blessed to share the Heavens with those who are so righteous.”

  When Adramelechk walked from the glen, carrying his new charges, the bodies of the dead Angel and Fae had been transported. The last was being carried by Azrael, who acknowledged him, his own sadness tinged with the loss of his sister, Jenny. It wasn’t her time to leave this plane, and although bereft, he and Baglis took solace in the knowledge that their sister would be reborn in another century.

  “Do you think he believed us?” asked Raphael.

  “I hope so,” Michael answered.

  “Where did they go?” Omniel asked. “And what was that rubbish about bringing me to the Heavens? The Creator made me the same day as you!”

  “Thinking on my feet, Brother… thinking on my feet. In truth, I have no idea where they have gone or what has happened to Mairi and Appoloin.”

  “Has the Prophecy been fulfilled, with their disappearance?”

  “It is complete,” Raphael said. “The Mistdreamers have been written out of the Book of Angels, a feat only possible with the ending of one.”

  Elemiah shimmered into light. “One that had been led by the Three…”

  He would wait sometime before sharing with the Archangels that his three sons had also disappeared.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Lauren held her newly born son, smelling that wonderful perfume only babies have. She reckoned it was a perfume they had been blessed with, to stop mothers going insane in the early hours of the morning when they had no idea what the baby wanted.

  It was clean, it was fed, it was… And so she held him, enjoying the closeness and the bonding between mother and child.

  Five years, she thought. It had been five years since Mairi died, and she missed her cousin, so very much. The magical five had not brought with it any magic, well, apart from the little man she held. He was a different type of magic. She knew he was full Angel.

  Their other four boys were wonderfully human, so far, and as yet, she looked around for a piece of wood to touch—just a wee bit of superstition did nobody any harm—and, finding the windowsill, she tapped it twice.

  Her thoughts went into another tangent when she touched the wood. The castle was now completely renovated. It was no longer a shambling ruin but a beautiful, modern castle. She touched the windows, triple glazed, and smiled, inwardly cheering. Oh yes, triple glazed to keep out the Scottish Highlands wind and rain.

  “You look so sad, my love,” Forcas said as he stepped into her solar, a room Lauren had read about in books and had always wanted. Her very own sitting room, basically. The walls were a soft yellow, and the furniture, of light oak, was crammed with books, photos of her children, her friends and family, and trinkets lay on every surface.

  She had been given the gift of an Alexander Millar painting when her second set of twins were born, and it hung over the open fireplace. It reminded her of her own boys. Although they were young yet, she could see the four of them acting just like the men in the painting, The Sunshine Boys, four Gadgies, mimicking the famous dance of the comedians Morecambe and Wise in their song, “Bring me Sunshine”. A little dog danced alongside the men, bouncing happily, enjoying the fun.

  One ten-foot window, engraved by Kakabel as a gift to them, before he left to live in the sixteenth century, had the etching of an Angel. Overlooking Loch Moidart, it flooded the room with sunshine. Drapes with leaves of green, gold, and yellow, fell to the floor and tumbled into frothy waves.

  She sat on the two-seater sofa facing the fireplace, it was no longer filled with wood, in the summer months, it held a lovely display of the local flowers and shrubbery, which lent to the perfume of the room. The baby stirred in her arms, and she patted his back, rocking him back and forth.

  “Here,” Forcas said, leaning down and taking the babe out of her arms. “Let me have my son for a while and give you a rest. He’s so demanding, is he not?” He laughed as the wee chap couried into his neck, smacking his lips in contentment.

  “That little peanut is no bother at all. It’s the other four who drive me to distraction.”

  “I thought you said they kept you fit.”

  “They do. It’s just…”

  “It’s just that today is five years since your cousin left.”

  Lauren was always amazed by Forcas’s refusal to say Mairi had died. It was as though the word wasn’t in his vocabulary.

  “Yes, today she died,” she corrected him and turned to look out the window. The loch always gave her peace when her heart ached.

  “Have you room for any others in here?”
asked Valerie as she and Seere walked into the room.

  Lauren ran to her and threw her arms around her. “I can’t believe you’re here! What happened? Is anything wrong?” she asked and frowned at Seere, who raised his hands to his chest.

  “Nothing to do with me. She insisted we had to come.”

  “Where are the girls?” asked Forcas.

  “They’re playing outside with Xaphan and, of course, their grandparents, all three of them!”

  “Have you the room for all of us, Lauren?” Valerie asked worriedly. “I didn’t stop to think.”

  “Valerie… it’s a castle. I could give you the Tanner’s house, if you’d rather not sleep in the Keep?”

  “It always makes me laugh, Tanner, sixpence. You get it, don’t you, Lauren?”

  “Aye, I do, cause you tell me every time you visit.”

  Just at that, the baby made a squeak. Valerie moved to Forcas’s side and stroked him with her little finger.

  “Oh my, he’s so beautiful.” She sighed. “Could I get a shot, Forcas?”

  Forcas was reluctant to give the baby up, but caught the scowl Lauren sent in his direction and answered, “Of course”, then added, “He’s just been fed, so be careful.”

  An almighty crash from outside had Seere disappear from the room, reappearing with one girl and one boy.

  “I don’t care which one did it, both of you come in, now,” he growled.

  Forcas lowered his head to hide his smile. A Dragon king flummoxed by two five-year-olds was something to behold.

  “Ivy!”

  “Eilidh,” the girl corrected.

  “Ivy,” Valerie continued, lowering her brows, “don’t try to play the identical twin game. It won’t work.” Facing the little boy, she asked, “Which one are you?”

  “I tot we wurr not to play the iden-mi-cal twin game.”

  “I wasn’t saying that to you, I was talking to your cousin,” came the exasperated reply.

  “I’m Ross.” The wee man stood, proudly pushing his little chest out.

  “Aye,” said Forcas, “that’s Ross. What did you do this time, and is Xaphan still alive?”

  Eilidh and Ross covered their mouths and giggled. Peeking at one another, they went into fits of laughter.

  “I guess that means he’s tied up, again. I honestly don’t know why he stays here,” Lauren bemoaned. “Poor guy gets no peace at all, and now the girls are here, he’ll have no life at all.”

  The baby in Valerie’s arms jumped when all the adults burst out laughing.

  “Serves him right,” said Seere.

  “For what? What punishment deserves our eight kids? I think Hell sometimes comes into his mind as a vacation spot!” Forcas chuckled.

  “Oh, I forgot,” Valerie said suddenly. “We brought Baglis. She’s cooking dinner for us.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll give Cook the night off.”

  “Really?” drawled Valerie. “You don’t think Baglis will have already done that? She’s, like, twenty steps ahead of us. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’s got a ‘spot of lunch’ ready for us as we speak.”

  King Finvarra walked into the room and hugged Valerie. He shook Forcas’s hand, kissed Lauren, and took the baby from Valerie’s arms.

  “Baglis says to tell you, if you want a spot of lunch, it’s waiting in the Great Hall just now.”

  “What did I tell you?” Valerie said smugly.

  “Welcome, King Finvarra, how do you fare?” asked Lauren.

  “Och, we’ll have none of that king and queen rubbish. We’re with family.”

  “Where’s Mom?” asked Valerie.

  “Oh, she’ll be along in a bit. She’s been tied up with Xaphan, and they can’t work out how to undo the knots,” he responded matter-of-factly. Blowing softly into the baby’s face, he asked Lauren, “Did you know your children have magic in their blood?”

  King Finvarra opened the heavy wooden door with his mind and strolled out, carrying the baby. Glancing over his shoulder, he asked, “Well, is nobody coming? We’re all famished. We’ve travelled some distance, and I wouldn’t want to cause Baglis irritation.” He smiled naughtily at the group, who were all standing watching him, with their mouths open.

  “Ta rah,” he said, and closed the door with a blink of his eyes.

  “When did our sons get magic powers?” asked Lauren, still looking at the door that had closed behind Finvarra.

  “I didn’t realise they had any.” Forcas hesitated. “Did he take our baby with him?”

  “That he did.” Valerie laughed. “He loves babies, as it happens, and nobody knew. That’s why he’s not going to know about this one until it’s ready to pop out. I’m not having Finvarra following me around Tír na nÔg for four months, wondering if I’ll give birth any minute.”

  “You thought now would be a good time to announce that little secret?” asked Seere.

  Valerie blushed beautifully. “I wanted to be sure, and I needed my cousin when I said anything.”

  Lauren moved quickly to Valerie’s side and pulled her into her arms. “What wonderful news. The magical number again, five. What will you call her?”

  “There is only one name for our little girl,” Seere interrupted.

  Valerie was indignant. Everyone else had ‘put their oar in’ with the naming of her daughters, Eilidh, Ivy, Morag, and Victoria, but this baby was going to be her choice.

  Seere raised his hand. “No, Valerie, this is my choice. You got your way with Eilidh. This time I get to choose.”

  “If I don’t like it, what then?”

  “Tough,” he answered.

  “Lauren,” Forcas said and put his arm around his beautiful wife, “I think we should leave these two to sort out their marital dispute. What say you, we head down to the Great Hall and see what delicacies Baglis has cooked for us?”

  “Maybe we should free Xaphan and Oonagh first?”

  “Nah, leave them to work it out themselves. The children will stay with them and keep them safe.” He waited a moment and winked at her. “Who would have guessed it, our children are magic.”

  “Okay,” Valerie complained to Seere, “out with it. What name have you thought up this time? Grizelda, Beatrix, which one this time?”

  “Och, Valerie, that’s an easy question. She’ll be Mairi, of course.”

  Valerie patted her stomach, and Lauren lay her hand on top.

  “I’m sure she just kicked me.” Valerie smiled as a tear ran down her face, and looking up, she saw Lauren’s eyes fill.

  “We three are back,” she said. “Now, let’s go and eat and talk about the future, for it is a bright one.”

  Epilogue

  Alexander sat beside the bed and held his brother’s hand. Callum had been in a mistdreaming coma for too many years. His Form lay on the bed he had shared with his wife, Cathy.

  Doctors and nurses regularly attended him, ensuring his health remained stable. They had been definite about their diagnosis. He would not ever emerge from the coma. Alexander, more than once, had wanted to scream they were wrong and that he wasn’t in a coma, but he was just too exhausted to argue. His energy was drained.

  Lauren, Callum’s daughter, was married to her Angel guard, Forcas, and living in the Highlands. He felt blessed that she remained close enough for him to visit with her and their five children, the last one delivered still in swaddling bands. It made the loss of Valerie to Tír na nÔg slightly easier, but the pain of his daughter not living nearby was deep.

  Valerie would venture to his world occasionally and bring both sets of his twin granddaughters with her. They were the very image of their mother, although their hair didn’t have her beautiful shade of red. Instead, as with all the Fae, they had long blonde hair, and their eyes were reminiscent of a fickle summer sky in Scotland, constantly changing from crystal blue to storm grey. Unlike the Fae, however, their eyes were fringed with the same black lashes of their Dragon father. Their beauty was exquisite, and Alexander worried that when the girls re
ached teenage years, Seere might lock them up to hide them from the boys that would no doubt flock to be their beaux. At present, Seere could put that concern to the back of his mind because he was more concerned with Valerie. She now bulged with their next child, which was due very soon.

  A Dragon Prince, he mused, imagine his daughter being married to one, for the love of the Almighty.

  But Mairi, Graeme’s daughter… He still wept at the memory. How could the Angels have allowed her to die?

  Graeme had been inconsolable. His anger had shocked even Alexander, but would he have been any different had he seen his own beloved child slain in front of his eyes? Graeme had become a simmering pot of fury combined with a deep sorrow, and his decision to remain in the century in which she died had not come as a surprise.

  He could disguise the reason to stay as him wanting to remain close to his grandsons, Mairi and Appoloin’s twin boys, but, in truth, they were thriving and growing into fine boys under the watchful eye of their guardian, Adramelechk, the Angel who had sacrificed himself to become a mortal… with an extra gift or two.

  He had been distraught when, in the aftermath of the Mingary War, he had come across his Mistdreamer. He had failed in his task of guiding her through mistdreaming, and asked that his Angel wings be removed. He found himself running after two wee rascals every day, who, with their own magic, were healing their guardian’s heart.

  Graeme had remained because of the troubling times they lived. Clans warring with opposing Clans. The English always at the ready to overcome the Scots, and a running battle with those who sought to take the castle away from his grandsons. It gave Graeme the ability to vent his anger. He could run wild with his sword and release his rage and claim it was in protection of those within Mingary Castle. One day it would dawn on him, it wasn’t.

  “What a twisted and complicated world,” he said out loud.

  He brushed a hair from Callum’s forehead, and was yet again amazed he had not aged at all in these last few years. Alexander believed he himself must look at least twenty years older, for that is how he felt.