His cool expression did not falter. “And why would I trust a single thing the Travelers say?”
“The Travelers cannot lie,” she reminded him. Though I can, she added in her mind.
He sighed. “Speak your information woman, so that I might be on my way.”
“Oighear must win this war,” she stated.
“Do you think me such a fool?” he scoffed.
The great cat turned its head toward them at Óengus’ tone, blinking glittering blue-gray eyes curiously.
“I do not,” she replied, “and that is why I’m telling you this now. Oighear must attack Ealasaid now, before she and Finnur can band together. If Finnur reaches Garenoch before Oighear, your beloved Snow Queen will not stand a chance.”
He watched her cautiously. “Why tell me this? Why support Ealasaid all this time, only to betray her?”
Keiren rolled her eyes. “I was wrong. I thought Ealasaid would bring about the end I desired, but that will not be the case. It is Oighear who must triumph.”
“And what will you gain?” he questioned.
“If Oighear succeeds, the barrier to the in-between will be destroyed,” she lied. “I will have what I want, and your shadow will be returned.”
He stroked his silver beard in thought. “And all I need to do is get Oighear to Garenoch?”
She nodded, keeping her expression even to hide her inner triumph. If Oighear attacked Ealasaid right after An Fiach, Ealasaid would be killed. Then Finnur, grief-stricken, would surely kill Oighear. Finn had the Cavari and the Faie Queen’s shroud. If her companion motivated her to use Niklas’ ring, she could not lose.
“I’ll think on it,” Óengus decided, then added, “That is, of course, after I have ensured that Oighear will not be defeated.”
“And how will you do that?” she asked, unable to hide her irritation.
He walked back to Oighear’s giant cat and climbed atop its back. “You’ll see,” he said, just seconds before the cat bounded away.
Keiren scowled after him. She would see indeed. If Óengus thought he could somehow ensure Oighear’s victory by meeting with Finn, she’d be there to stop him.
She sighed at her own thoughts. Protecting Finn. She’d spent all her time hoping to use Finn’s immortality to destroy the barrier, when all along the answer had been far more simple. She did not need to threaten Finn, or manipulate her. She simply needed to help her win. To gain her trust enough to make her believe her daughter was only a realm away, waiting for her. Just like Keiren’s mother.
She stalked through the trees in the direction Óengus had gone. She’d let him get a head start for now, though his intent was likely to harm Finn in some way, he would not succeed.
When the time came, and Finn needed a savior, she would be the one to protect her.
The words of both Sugn and Keiren lay heavy on Iseult’s mind as he and Finn shared a fire to ward away the darkness. They sat in silence, deep in their individual thoughts.
Iseult resisted the urge to sigh. If not for Sugn’s threat, he might not have listened to Keiren, but now . . . If it was true the ring would grant Finn greater power, he should persuade her to use it. Yet, greater power was a double-edged sword. He knew she struggled enough with what she had. With every passing day, her physical body seemed to be wilting away.
He tensed at a fluttering sound, then relaxed as a Pixie landed on a rotted stump beside Finn. The Pixie’s name was Miaella, and she’d become their primary messenger.
“What is it?” Finn asked with a yawn.
“Word from Garenoch, my queen,” Miaella buzzed. “Anna and Kai found us in the woods to the west of the burgh, along with another woman.”
“Kai?” Finn gasped. “Anna found him?”
The little Pixie nodded, bobbing her frizzy purple hair, its normal vibrancy dulled by the darkness. Iseult watched on silently, wondering what Anna might have to say about how they’d ended up in Garenoch.
“Anna carried a message from Lady Ealasaid,” Miaella explained. “She wishes you to join her in Garenoch. She and Kai attempted to find you in the in-between to tell you as much.”
Finn whipped her gaze to Iseult, who shrugged. Perhaps it was a good sign, perhaps not.
“She also wishes you to know that Bedelia and Àed are well,” Miaella continued. “They made it to Garenoch with Anna.”
“And Kai?” Finn asked, relief clear in her tone. “Did he have anything to say?”
Miaella glanced at Iseult, her tiny features tense. She hesitantly turned her attention back to Finn. “He wished for me to relay his message to you, and you alone.”
Iseult stood and walked away without Finn needing to ask. Now there would be no chance of stopping her course. Everyone she cared about was in Garenoch, and an army was heading their way. He needed to find Keiren. If she could help keep Finn safe, he had to take that chance.
He stalked into the darkness, thinking over her proposal. If she’d told him the truth, the ring would bring Finn great power, yet something still nagged at him. He could persuade her to wear the ring to protect herself, and they could take Keiren’s help, but at what cost? He was beginning to learn that magic always had a price. Those who wielded it often seemed to lose themselves in the process. Had Keiren once been someone entirely different from what she was now? Had Sugn?
He couldn’t bear to see Finn warp herself into someone different. He could already see the world chipping away at her kind, giving heart.
Still, he knew it was the only choice to be made. He just hoped she’d actually make it.
It was dark by the time Óengus reached the forest, which was fortunate. He didn’t want to risk being spotted by Finnur or Iseult. They were not his quarry. The ones he sought would be a little harder to find.
He dismounted the leon gheimhridh, leaving the massive cat to walk behind him. He knew there were many Faie in the forest surrounding Finnur. They would likely report his presence before long, so he would have to be quick.
He started to sweat despite the icy air. This mission was his last chance. He didn’t believe for a second Keiren actually wanted Oighear to survive. He needed to counteract whatever plan the sorceress had set in motion.
He was just about to remount the leon gheimhridh to ride further from where Finn and Iseult rested, then he saw them in the pale dark. Three cloaked forms standing not twenty paces away, watching him.
“There you are,” he commented, feigning bravery. Oighear had told him tales of the Cavari, he knew of what they were capable.
The cloaked forms did not reply. Instead, one lifted its arm.
Óengus felt a ripple of magic. “Wait!” he hissed, sensing he was about to meet his end. “You do not want to kill me. Not until you’ve heard what I have to say.”
The center form stepped forward, then removed its cloak, revealing masculine cheekbones and golden hair, the rest of his features obscured by darkness. “Bold for a mortal,” the man said. “Speak, and I will make your death quick. You must be punished for seeking out the Cavari.”
So they knew he was searching for them, Óengus thought with a shiver. Perhaps they already knew what he had to say, but it seemed there was little choice now but to say it. “I’ve come for the Faie Queen’s shroud.”
The golden haired man walked forward, closing the distance between them.
Óengus resisted the urge to step back out of reach, near the protective leon gheimhridh waiting calmly behind him.
The man’s eyes sharpened. “You’re aware you’re asking the wrong person?” He gestured down to his loosely flowing cloak. “Cleary, I do not have it.”
“Clearly,” Óengus replied, “else you would have used it to steal magic away from all others.”
The man smirked. “Clever, for a mortal, but that still doesn’t explain why you sought out our clan, and why you’re accompanied by a beast belonging to Oighear the White.” He glanced past Óengus to the leon gheimhridh.
“How did you know I was looking for yo
u?” Óengus questioned, since clearly this man did not know everything.
The man tilted his head. “We know when we are sought. Now spit out what you have to say before our queen comes to kill you herself.”
Óengus snorted. “That girl wouldn’t harm a gnat.”
Genuine surprise crossed the man’s face, exactly what Óengus was going for. “And how do you know anything about our queen?”
“People tend to talk. I tend to listen,” he said casually. It was not a lie. He’d spent much time listening to Keiren talk about Finnur. He knew her entire history, and he knew that she’d been running from the Cavari. Yet, here they were, calling her queen.
“Is that your offer then?” the man asked. “We give you the shroud, and what? You tell us of Finnur’s deepest desires? That’s hardly an offer. I’ve known her since she was a girl. I know her in ways no one else ever has.”
That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. She’d been separated from the Cavari for over a century, until now. Perhaps he’d misjudged the situation.
“Now,” the man began, stroking his chin in thought, “if you could tell us more of her human influencers, information that might actually be of value to us, then perhaps we might not kill you. Not right away, at least.”
Óengus stiffened at the leon gheimhridh’s low growl. “And what of the shroud?” he questioned.
The man snorted. “The shroud is of little consequence. Shroud or no, Oighear will be put to rest once again, and there she will remain. Now come,” he gestured for Óengus to walk toward the other two cloaked forms, still shielded by their hoods. “We have much to discuss.”
His jaw clenched, Óengus followed. He had stepped right into the spider’s web. Fortunately, that was exactly where he wanted to be.
Ealasaid shuffled through her wardrobe, searching for the appropriate apparel for battle. She wanted to finish her search before Maarav came to find her. She didn’t need him knowing just how nervous and flustered she was, nervous enough to plan her clothing at least a full day in advance. Witnessing her fear, he’d tell her to hide within the estate. Yet, it wasn’t fear for her own life that had taken hold.
Tossing a pair of thick wool breeches onto her bed beside a dark blue tunic, she slammed her wardrobe doors shut with a huff, then marched over to her bed. She peered down at an odd lump beneath the mattress, then knelt and lifted up the edge of her blanket, revealing the edge of a black velvet box. She’d nearly forgotten about it in all the excitement.
Holding her breath, she tugged on the box, withdrawing it fully. She glanced at the closed door behind her, then set the box on her knees. She slowly lifted the lid, revealing the wand gifted to her by Clan Solas Na Réaltaí. The imperfect clear gem at the wand’s tip stared back at her like a captive eyeball, or at least, that’s what it felt like. She hadn’t noticed it before, but the wand thrummed with electric currents of magic.
With one trembling hand, she withdrew the wand, setting the box on the floor before standing.
She hefted the wand in her hand, wondering at its purpose. Some queens carried scepters, but the wand was too short for that. Not really thinking about what she was doing, she wrapped her fingers firmly around the jewel-encrusted rod, then sliced it in a well-practiced arc, just like Slàine had taught her with a sword.
Magic tingled down her spine, accompanied by a cadence of thunder outside her window. Lowering the wand to her side, she rushed across the room to peer out into the night. At first she saw only darkness, then lightning cut across the sky, one thundering bolt after another. The wand felt alive in her hand.
Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the lightning. Had she . . . She shook her head. It wasn’t possible. She could call lightning, yes, but not like this. Not to light up the entire night sky.
She heaved a sigh of relief as the smell of ozone hit her, seconds later accompanied by the gentle patter of raindrops. She most certainly couldn’t call rain. It was just a normal storm, nothing more.
A knock sounded at her door, prompting her to quickly hide the wand within her wardrobe. On her way to the door, she kicked the velvet box beneath her bed. When she finally answered, Maarav waited on the other side.
“Quite a storm,” he observed, peering past her toward her window. He turned his gray-green eyes down to her, lifting one black brow mischievously. “If you’re scared, we could hide beneath your blankets.”
She scowled at him, but stood aside to let him enter. There was no way she could have caused the storm. It absolutely wasn’t possible . . . but she’d be cursed before she was left alone with that wand that night, while the thunder and lightning still raged outside.
Chapter Eleven
Finn watched as Iseult kicked dirt over the remaining embers of their fire. The morning sun shone strongly above them, its warmth pleasant on her already hot cheeks. Not hot from exertion, but anxiety.
She was finally going to meet with Keiren on even ground. She might even find out just why the sorceress has plagued her since her branches rescinded, leaving her naked and alone in a meadow.
Iseult approached her. His short sword hung at his hip, and the hilt of another blade peeked out of his boot. She hoped to the gods he would not have to use them.
He reached out, taking both her arms in his hands. “I will not be far,” he assured. “Just far . . . enough.”
She nodded. While she was nervous to meet with Keiren, her real fear lay in the fact that Iseult would be endangering himself by serving as distraction to Sugn and the other Cavari. She trusted they’d not kill him, as they would not so brazenly incur her wrath, but there were other ways to harm. Insidious ways to plant the idea in Iseult’s mind that she was a monster, and would turn on him eventually.
In her past lifetime, that was exactly what she had become, but she would not let it happen again. She was different now, wiser.
Their eyes met, a silent exchange of words that needn’t be spoken. Then he pulled away. She watched him retreat, trying not to focus on the desperation constricting her chest. She’d need her energy for her meeting with Keiren.
Once he was out of sight, she sat crosslegged in the dry grass, her breeches already too dirty for her to care about soiling them further. Iseult’s horse snuffled behind her, clearly displeased to be tethered to a tree while Loinnir was allowed to graze freely.
She turned her gaze over her shoulder, searching for the unicorn, then relaxed upon spotting her just a few paces away. Perhaps she relied too heavily on the beast for a sense of security, but there was no arguing with the fact that the unicorn’s presence cut her nerves in half.
She turned forward again, wondering how long she’d need to wait. Keiren had informed Iseult that she would find them two mornings after she’d made her offer. This was that morning, but she felt doubtful Keiren would actually show. Perhaps it was all just a scheme to isolate Iseult amongst the Cavari. Perhaps Keiren was working with them.
Her heart suddenly pounding, she stood, prepared to race off after them.
“Have you changed your mind so quickly?” a woman’s voice called out.
Finn whipped her head around, peering in the direction of the voice.
Keiren stepped out of the trees on the opposite side of their campsite. She wore black today, the silky fabric hugging her tall, willowy frame provocatively. Her crimson hair fell in glossy tendrils across the shoulders of her fine dress.
Finn suddenly wished she had dressed for the meeting, though she had little else to wear. She at least could have combed her hair and donned clean breeches.
“No,” she replied. “I have not changed my mind. I wish to know why you have plagued me so.”
Keiren continued her approach, stopping just on the other side of the deadened fire. “And all shall be revealed,” she said with a smirk. “Even my foolishness at not realizing that my destiny awaited with you all along.”
Finn tilted her head, waiting for Keiren to continue.
Instead, Keiren glanced at Finn’
s finger. “I see you decided to wear the ring after all. Wise choice.”
She frowned, once again wondering if the ring was another trick, and wouldn’t actually make her magic stronger. Iseult had insisted she wear it, to protect herself in case Keiren attacked her.
“I’ll wear what I please,” she said out loud. “Now tell me what you mean about your destiny. What end did you hope to achieve with all your scheming?”
Keiren seated herself upon a fallen log, the movement somehow graceful despite the constricting layers of her gown. She gestured for Finn to sit . . . in the dirt.
Scowling, she crossed her arms and remained standing.
Keiren sighed. “I was born with many gifts, but my strongest is my sight. I can sense hidden intentions, and can sometimes see what will come to pass. I knew you would be returning to this land, but could see little else.”
Her expression softening, Finn nodded for her to continue.
Keiren shifted, searching for a more comfortable position. “An immortal being had not been seen in this land for many, many years, except, perhaps, the Ceàrdaman. For some reason though, I saw you coming. I knew it must be the fate I’d been waiting for.”
Sensing a long story was about to ensue, Finn reluctantly sat on a nearby boulder.
“I sought you out,” Keiren continued, “but something obscured you from my sight. Because of this, I soon enlisted others. First Bedelia, then Óengus.”
The mention of Bedelia made anger flare within her. Keiren had used her more than any other. “My mother protected me,” Finn said honestly, willing to share a small parcel of information now that Keiren seemed to be doing the same. Of course, it might all be lies, but she didn’t think so.
Keiren nodded, accepting the information without comment. “Even though I could not see you, I had to find you. There was a ritual I heard of once, long ago. It takes someone with immortal blood to break the barrier to the in-between.”
The Oaken Throne Page 17
