Legend 4 - Free Falling

by Claudy Conn

  My queen believed she was a part of the prophecy, if not the most important component. I thought she was but a child lost. My queen thought she might be killed in the end, but not before she finished Gaiscioch. I thought if I didn’t keep her safe, she would die at his hands …

  I didn’t think I could be so affected by such a notion, but I was. It took hold of me and drove me mad. I would not allow her to be harmed. She was so young …

  I watched her click along in her fashionable heels, but they could not improve on the perfection of her lovely legs.

  She was, I knew, dressed to impress, and I could not deny that her beauty was a strain on all my deep-seated resolves to keep her at a distance.

  As eldest son of the House of Lugh, I had watched over my young brothers since we lost our parents in the last, most horrendous battle that took place on Irish soil. I was not given to fancy. I was practical and serious and very able to resist feminine wiles, and her wiles in particular were annoying in the extreme!

  She was infuriating, irritating, and obnoxiously independent, and yet, she lit up a room with her gusto, her obvious bravery, her loyalty, and her audacious, if volatile, determination.

  She was no more than the enfant I called her, and yet, her green eyes engaged one if one were to look too deep, and on occasion I’d found myself looking too deep. She was overflowing with the promise of passion beyond her present knowledge. Her body disintegrated my will to keep her at bay, her style bewitched until all I could do was grumble and run away from her …

  I would not allow that to happen to me—I liked my independence, and females had a way of mucking that up. Look at me—running like an untried boy. I had lived over seventy thousand years, and I had thought myself ‘taken’ very nearly in love many times …

  She had known boys, dealt with boys, and had no clue how to stand up to me effectually. How, then, could she stand against Gais, whose evil was ruthless?

  She was an inexperienced child muddling through her cold need for justice … and I had to train her from the aloof position I was determined to maintain. Emotion makes fools of us, and I had never allowed myself to play the part.

  And yet, when I was with her, I said and did all the wrong things. I was inadequate to the task of controlling my temper when I was with her. And now she was flaunting her will in my face. She thought I was unaware she was rushing off (in a flurry of temper) to meet a total stranger. She thought she was—what did humans say, ah yes, ‘sticking it to me!’

  I should return to Tir and let her play at being human … she has played the role too long. She must discover the Daoine within and become …

  I should allow her an evening with the Dunbar fellow. She was young and needed to laugh, but would she be safe off her warded ground?

  Was I wrong to allow her to leave MacDaun tonight and go to a stranger whom I knew nothing about?

  My mission was to keep her safe and sound. I didn’t know if she was in mortal danger with the human, Dunbar, but something else could happen while she was out and about.

  I could watch her from another dimension, and she would not know …

  Or would she? Her powers were remarkable considering she had not bothered all these years to spread the wings of her might. She had great strengths, and she was a quick study, but she was not disciplined.

  Yes, it would be best if I kept surveillance on her tonight. And she would have no way to know if I maintained my watch from another dimension. I would conceal myself in a way that even a Daoine would not be able to detect. I, after all, was not born, like she, a mere twenty-one years ago!

  * * *

  Our small village proudly boasted four pubs. My favorite (live music five nights a week) was the Red Lion. In addition to the great music, it was warm and cozy. Most of our locals frequented it, and everyone was your friend whether you knew them or not. It was an easy, light atmosphere that I suddenly realized I had been missing … I hadn’t been there (or anywhere really) in months.

  Aaron and I settled into a small booth at the back of the busy room. The ride over had taken less than ten minutes from Dunbar Grange, and our conversation had been casual and I thought slightly stilted. I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t know where his mind had been, as a few well put remarks about various sports will usually get a guy loosened up and talking. However, I had drawn a blank.

  So, to ease my self-consciousness I started firing questions in order to get him to talk about himself and lessen the ‘silence’ I felt was uncomfortable.

  “How long have you lived in Ireland?” I smiled encouragingly. He had already told me earlier that he was nearly twenty-seven. It was basically all he had offered about himself.

  He grinned. “All me simple life. My father met my mother when he was doing some traveling through the northern tip of Ireland. They settled there for a time and then drifted down to Killarney.”

  “Hmm—love matches are rare,” I said, assuming that was what he had implied.

  “I wouldn’t be calling what they had a ‘love match’!” he snapped derisively. “But … they stayed together all the same.”

  I laughed—I didn’t think he was trying to be funny, but I suddenly was ill at ease, and I giggle when I get ill at ease. “I guess you have family in Killarney?” I managed to ask.

  “Aye, a long list of relatives—God help me,” he said on an amused sigh.

  Good, I hadn’t annoyed him yet with my mild inquisition, so I proceeded to do more of the same—inquire. “And when you inherited your uncle’s place, you were able to up and leave your job?”

  He eyed me for a long moment before he answered. “As it turns out my great-uncle was a wealthy man—so for now you can call me a man of leisure.”

  I nodded. “But when you weren’t a man of leisure?”

  “Will I get the same free and easy answers when I start putting m’questions to you?” he said on a chuckle.

  I smiled appreciatively. I had been firing them with hardly taking a breath. “I am sorry …”

  “Don’t be silly, pretty Z. That is how we can get to know one another. I was an archeologist for a major firm in Dublin before I came here. I do love my work, and in fact have a bit of a collection of artifacts myself. I thought I might start up my own business in Inverness—when I am ready.” He eyed me comically. “Have I passed your test then, Radzia MacDaun?”

  I giggled. “Oh … I am so sorry, but yes, with flying colors—I love ancient artifacts. Your turn.”

  He smiled softly at me. “Perhaps you will come by and allow me to show them to you?”

  “Now that is a deal. My dad was a private collector …” My voice trailed away, and I felt my teeth grind. I couldn’t think of my dad without thinking of Gaiscioch, and thinking of Gais put me into ‘kill zone’.

  “I know quite a lot about you already, and we’ll learn more about each other, hopefully not all in one night!” He reached across the table and took up my fingers, which were tapping the saltshaker. He steadied them, put the tips to his lips, and kissed each finger individually. I didn’t want to stop him.

  Then I pulled myself together. No … oh no … not ready for this. As soon as I was able to without offering downright offense, I pulled my hand gently out of his warm hold.

  One dark brow went up over his eye as he scanned my face, but he said nothing and turned instead to look around the room. “I like your choice … this is a wonderful little pub.”

  I laughed. “Not that we have much choice. The other three pubs aren’t half as nice, but when my dad was around, we frequented all four pubs, switching to give each one business … Dad was like that.”

  “He sounds like he was a good man,” Aaron said softly. “And I am sorry for your loss, Radzia …”

  He had said he already knew a lot about me, and I had guessed he had heard all there was to hear from the grapevine that traveled between the employees of the estates in and about MacDaun Village—yes, the village was named after our ancestor, a feudal warlord and Druid pries
t.

  I acknowledged this with a wave of my hand, and then I couldn’t help spitting out to this total stranger, “He was murdered … in cold blood.”

  “So I was told.” He sighed heavily. “The murderer … never found?”

  “Never found,” I said, realizing that I had to get off this subject. I smiled and waved at some acquaintances who were nodding my way, and then the blood in my body stopped flowing as I went rigid!

  Drones, very much like the one I had recently killed, were coming into the pub. There were four of them, each hideous, each in human Glamour; yet even in their human Glamour they were revolting, lecherously surveying the room for victims …

  I tried not to look at them. I didn’t have my weapon. What an idiot I was. I’d left it at home. Yes, but to be fair to myself, I’d never expected Unseelies to frequent our village.

  The pickings for them here were so much less than in Inverness. What then? Spies for Gaiscioch? Spying on me, or was it something else—something that had to do with a portal?

  I knew it was possible to call my weapon to me, but Danté had said I wasn’t ready for that yet, and he didn’t want me sending it off into space somewhere out of reach.

  So I was weaponless, and the beasts were on the prowl. Just great.

  The disgusting drones were leering at a few of the young women on the small dance floor, and I wanted to barf. One of the girls gave the drone closest to her the ‘okay—come and get it’ sign.

  I was astonished. I mean—they might have been in human Glamour, but they were still ugly. The drones had to be using a spell—expelling some sort of aphrodisiac or transmitting on some kind of enchantment wavelength.

  What was I going to do? I had to do something. Could I negate their spell? No, I would need to know what sort of spell they were using …

  Could I send the girls off to another dimension and then retrieve them later? It was not impossible to do, but there would be consequences for the girls. It was one of the Dark Magic spells I had learned, but it did not always end well. The girls could lose memory … be troubled for many months with nightmares—no. That was not the answer. There was only one answer. I had to kill the drones.

  I excused myself from Aaron, went to the girls’ room, and shifted home. I retrieved my dad’s (though always meant for me) death weapon and shifted back to the pub, only this time I was concealed by the Féth Fiada and would be invisible to all human occupants at the pub. I enacted a concealment spell that encompassed each drone as I approached them.

  The drones would see through the invisibility cloak, but not until it was too late …

  I was behind the first drone before any of them knew what was happening. I sliced through him easily, and before he hit the floor, I consigned him to another dimension.

  The other three turned and looked right at me, and they were not happy!

  * * *

  In another dimension, I watched Z and mumbled out loud, “What is she doing with that human fool?” As no one was there to answer, the words seemed to echo back at me. I was in a barren desert looking in at Z and her new friend at the pub.

  “He thinks a great deal of himself for a human. He thinks she will be an easy conquest.” Again, I found that I was mumbling to myself. It was difficult for me to conceive of Z being an easy target, and that put a grin on my face.

  I listened to their mundane conversation and was, in fact, being bored out of my gourd when I saw what my Daoine princess saw. Drones!

  They were going to do damage, and this was a small village—why would they be here, where their kills, their feeding would be noticed? What was their reason for being here?

  I soon realized that my enfant was not going to allow them to kill. She was shifting, and I knew she went to retrieve her father’s death weapon. In spite of my irritation with the entire mess, I had to smile. She was spontaneous combustion …

  I watched as she shifted and destroyed the first drone in one fell swoop, neatly sending him off I assumed somewhere in the galaxy. And then the other three turned on her.

  Her cloak of invisibility served to hide her presence from only the humans. The drones saw her quite clearly, and they were surrounding her.

  She shifted and came up behind one drone before he could process what she had done. A quick, thorough jab, and he was dead and gone. She faced the other two.

  The question remained: should I step in and help her? They did not have weapons. They could not harm her to any degree.

  The remaining two drones realized this at once and, without another thought, shifted off. My enfant smirked to herself, which made me laugh like a fool, here in the open desert, and then she shifted off—no doubt to safely put away her weapon.

  A moment later she was sliding into the booth across from the human fellow and allowing him to take her hand to his lips. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? What century did he come from? “Get your bloody lips away from her fingers. She doesn’t have the time for you.”

  Again, I was talking to myself and getting ready to shift into the pub in full human Glamour to interrupt their evening when I heard her say …

  * * *

  “Aaron, I have had a wonderful evening, but I don’t think I can drink another pint. I have a big day tomorrow—I am so sorry. Do you think we could call it an early night?”

  “Yes, if you let me do the ‘taking’ the next time we go out. I’ll come for you, I’ll choose the place, and it will be an official date. Agreed?”

  I looked at him. He was so damned cute and handsome and big and strong … and I didn’t have the time for this. “We’ll see.”

  “Then, nope … not going … we have to stay and enjoy our one night together if I am not to have another.”

  I had to laugh. Like I said, he had that ‘cute’ thing going on. “Okay … next time, you do the invite and the planning.”

  A few minutes later I’d dropped him off and was heading for home when I was startled by the sudden appearance of none other than his Royal Self.

  “You did well,” Danté said on a formal note as he eased into the passenger seat and grumbled under his breath about it being too small a space.

  I supposed I should admit that I smiled inside and out as though I had been given the trophy of the year award when I said, “I did, didn’t I?” Then I realized he had seen me. How had he seen what had happened? “Wait—”

  “Considering that they had no weapons and could not harm you … yes, you did well.” He interrupted before I was able to finish my question.

  His grin was wicked. I pulled a face at him and told him, “I surveyed the situation and made a plan”—I really didn’t, as I had winged the entire incident—“and saw it through. Now, tell me how you happen to know? Were you there? I didn’t see you.”

  “Yes, you did do that, and that was well done, although as I said, you were in little danger. What would you have done if one of them had a death weapon at his disposal?”

  “I saw that they didn’t.”

  “You did not. And what if they had called for one …?”

  “Not drones … you taught me that the other day. They are limited Dark Fae—the drones. They can barely shift.”

  “True.”

  “So I was better than good.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Now … where were you? How did you see any of that? I didn’t notice you in the pub.”

  “Did you not?’

  “No.”

  “Well, I was there all the same. You were too busy letting the human kiss your fingers.”

  Could he have been there without my seeing him? He was so capable of so many things beyond my abilities, but … would I not have sensed him? However, here he was criticizing me again. “I can let anyone I choose kiss my fingers.”

  “You shouldn’t.”

  “Why not—jealous?”

  “Absurd, enfant—me jealous … of what—him?”

  I laughed and said in a purposely enticing voice, “Jealous that it wasn’
t you … kissing my fingers …”

  “And why, by Danu, would I want to do that?”

  He seemed genuinely horrified at the thought. I sighed and waved it off. “No—you wouldn’t.” I was suddenly tired and wishing he would leave. “Don’t you have something to do?”

  “Yes, escorting you safely back onto MacDaun land.”

  “I am perfectly capable of escorting myself.”

  “Precisely why I have to do it. You have no sense.”

  “Danté—go home.”

  “Would that I could, but the sorry truth is, until Gaiscioch is dead, we are all trapped in this unending maze …”

  We were both quiet then until I pulled up into the courtyard outside my wide, covered front patio. I turned to him then and said, “There, home safe and sound.”

  “Good night, Daoine,” he said aloofly and shifted off. I stood there for a long time just staring into the space he had previously occupied. It was very annoying—the way he came and went without so much as a ‘by your leave’ as my mom used to say.

  A thought came to mind, and for some reason it made my nose crinkle. Did he have a lover on Tir—a Fae female he went to at night?

  ~ Nine ~

  ATHA BENT TO cut a flower in her beautifully designed garden bed. Her flaming red hair fell across her shoulders and partially concealed her full breasts, nearly overflowing the low-cut bodice of her thin gown.

  She sensed me there and turned. “Danté—how delightful.” Her voice was light and musical as she came forward, her arms outstretched, her hands reaching for mine.

  I smiled at her. What male would not? As I put her hands to my lips, I thought of the human, Dunbar, and how he had kissed my enfant’s fingers; I felt a shift into irritation. I chastised myself. I was with the lovely Atha now, and that was what I had to concentrate on.

  “Playing in your garden?” It was a statement. I didn’t need a response, and she knew it. She laughed and linked her arm through mine.

  “Yes, but only out of boredom, although I do so love the flowers … and making arrangements myself.”

  I had to wonder how such a lovely Fae, with such gentle pursuits, could be so calculating and cunning … and I had reason to believe that she was. Still, I played her game. It was necessary. “And now that I am here, we will shift to the pavilion. Desmond Lang will be playing, and he is quite good.”