Blue Keltic Moon (Children of the Keltic Triad)

by *lizzie starr

  “Gowtham, may I heal your hurts?”

  After a quick glance at her grandfather’s tolerant grin, he nodded. “As you wish, little missy.”

  Bright joy suffused her face and she shook her finger at him. “My name’s Breanna, silly.”

  Now he whispered her name, “Breanna,” and received such a powerful wash of love and heat he gasped. His inner vision burned with entwined gold and red then faded again into his memories.

  Pressing her small hands to his chest, the child closed her eyes. Calm, cool waves engulfed him, easing the burning pain of his physical injuries. One by one, he watched as he bruises healed and the skin knit over cuts and scrapes. She carried more than a fledgling talent.

  A pale pink glow surrounded her hands. Tinged with hints of deep red and gold, the glow pulsed softly with the beating of his heart.

  No. How could that be? This was not a part of his memory. He had not seen soulfire then. Soulfire never appeared in one so young. The magical expression of... love... would not... could not... despite her foolish affirmations she would marry him. No, the haze had to have been a remnant of confusion within his tortured mind.

  When he lifted his gaze to her face Breanna the child opened her eyes. The brilliance of her smile held him still while she lifted her hands and touched his temples softly. Her adult fingers trembled then remained firmly in place. As he had then, he did now, opening his mouth to beg her to stop, for he could not pull away from her touch.

  ::I’m not gonna hurt you, Gowtham. I’d never hurt you.::

  Whose voice? The child or the woman?

  Then the soft pink entered his mind, hovered in the darkness of his abused memories before taking the form of small hands that lifted bits of his protective mental wall and pieced them together, slowly rebuilding his shields. Finally with a touch light as the kiss of innocence, the child retreated.

  “Oh, no,” Breanna said quietly. “I’m sorry, Gowtham, I did that without knowing how difficult it would be for you. I shouldn’t have. I... I didn’t understand the extent—”

  He lifted his hands to cover hers. “I know. Now, I understand many things. I must breach those reinforced defenses, for they do not shield me from pain, but hold me captive. The walls you constructed are strong. Breanna, will you help me? I do not know if I can do this alone.”

  “You’re not alone. You’re never alone, Gowtham.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Let’s fix what I did out of love so long ago.”

  Gowthaman took a deep breath and returned to the memories haunting him for so long. Deep, passionate red surrounded him as he tore stone from stone, tossing the pieces as far as he could in every direction, so they would never be found and brought together again. Angry, violent winds howled around him trying to contain that which he released.

  Whenever a memory pressed too close, Breanna was there, binding the pain into submission. Until only one final, solid lump remained: the cold, hate-filled touch of the mind-seeker. With a mental battle cry, Gowthaman smashed the memory. The weak, ineffectual wail as the pain dissipated made him smile.

  The beautiful red caressed him then flowed away. He opened his eyes.

  “You will still have the memories of that time,” Breanna said.

  “I know. I shall have the memories, but they shall not have me. You have returned the control to me.”

  “Good.” She lurched forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Good.”

  “Breanna, I...”

  Shaking her head, she hugged him tightly. “No, you don’t need to say anything.” Then she leaned back. Tears shimmered in her eyes, but her smile was a bright as the faerie sun. “When we get home, I’m going to go right up to Granda and say ‘See, I told you I could fix him’.”

  Nineteen

  Brandr Ur squirmed, attempting to find a comfortable position on the hard dais that had been his chosen place of watching for so very long. He grumbled under his breath. After the ages he’d spent here, he’d expected the rocks to conform to his needs, to ease his body as he waited. And planned.

  A slow smile followed by the cracking roll of his neck and a deep shrug helped. The planning was complete. All that remained was the waiting of two meager nights and he would be free once more. Free to determine the fates of worlds. Free to deliver his ultimate revenge upon those who’d sent him here.

  Dispassionate, he gazed across the wide landscape, empty but for rocks. Rock. Nothing but gray rock. Not even a tree to flame remained in his valley. He reached to pick up a fist-sized stone and concentrated but the stone would not burn. After tossing the rock as far as he could, the elemental eased back to prop himself on his bent elbows. Lighting flame to something... anything would be a relief.

  He paused to consider why he had never completely destroyed the small section of this cursed place his twice-cursed descendant occupied. There had been great joy in burning away any hint of moisture and blocking the prince of waters from communicating with his world.

  But once that joy dissipated, Brandr Ur had found no need, no desire for additional destruction. What were a few scraggly trees or bushes?

  A scent drifted past him on the dry, hot breeze. He jerked upright, inhaling deeply. Then he shook his head, rubbed his nose with his palm and inhaled again.

  Fire.

  Small, insignificant. But fire.

  He chuckled then laughed loudly. None who resided here felt the need for the comfort of fire. So the builders must be those who had entered this night, intent on rescue. How—he rested one hand centered on his chest—touching. Let them have their image of comfort and security.

  He had told the prince he would not near the weakening veil until the time of his escape. As he was a being of his word, he would not physically interfere with the scheming of the near-mortals.

  Focusing on the small group gathered a few leagues away, he skimmed over the uninteresting minds until... Ah, yes. This one. One mind among them held his interest. One mind he’d touched before. One mind held possibilities.

  Finding a comfortable nook within the young mind, he watched, listened, and studied the complexities of this new species. He discovered a taint, an ancestor perhaps, that with a gentle nudge, opened the mind wider to him. The taint reminded Brandr Ur of others he had used in the past, but there was no lust for power elsewhere in this mind.

  Accepting the challenge of bringing this being, this possible follower to him before the veil opened, Brandr Ur slowly receded from the mind’s depths and lingered on the surface, listening.

  “...I’m not trusting that the elemental won’t try something.”

  Communication opened with a simple twist of his thought. ::I said I shall not approach the prince until the time of our final battle. In two night’s time, when the veil weakens, then shall you see me. Then shall you know my glory.::

  Chuckling at the useless attempts at shutting him out, of building puny mental walls, Brandr Ur remained seated firmly in the other’s mind.

  The young one spoke out loud. “No, I’m going to keep watch anyway.”

  ::Watch if you wish. You will not see me until the time of my glory is at hand.::

  ::Get out of my head.::

  ::In time, my young friend. I find you... interesting. There is much potential in you, potential to increase my glory. And your own.::

  ::Get. Out. I won’t listen to you. I’m here to defeat you, not to become your pawn.::

  The rippling defiance delighted the elemental. Until a solid bubble of indigo shoved at him, blocking him from the young one’s mind. He thought to return an undeniable pressure, then let himself slide away with only a hint of resistance.

  ::I shall return, my young friend. Then we shall see who is to be defeated. And who will hold supreme rule. Two nights, young one, we meet face to face.::

  ::Fuck off.::

  Brandr Ur’s thought essence returned to his body. Dark, heavy laughter rang from the temple, echoed from stone to stone, filling the gray valley.


  Halfway between midnight and dawn, Nightshade set Gowthaman’s journal aside and turned off the bedside lamp. He’d opened the heavy drapes to let the night in through the wide window and now he lay back, hands clasped behind his head, to watch the sky. An untrained eye would miss the faint haze lingering at the edge of the stone outcropping. A human’s eye.

  Letting his eyelids drift closed, he waited for a sleep he knew would not find him. Too many thoughts, possibilities, recriminations... too much rumbled through his head until he had lost primary focus. After a few minutes he threw back the blankets and stalked to the window.

  Cool air surrounded him, raising chill bumps on his naked body. Had he become so used to comfort that a little cold made him shiver? He snapped his fingers in a precise ‘Z’. “Honey, get over yourself.”

  After slipping on silk pajama bottoms and a crumpled tee shirt, he snagged the journal, left the bedroom and sought the comfort of the huge kitchen.

  Only the soft light over the stove illuminated the room, that and the last of the moonlight reflected on the loch. In a few hours the sun would rise over the distant hills and another day would begin.

  Nightshade took a bottle of milk from the refrigerator, a box of heavily-sweetened cereal and a glass from the pantry and sat so he could see out the window. After pouring the milk, he tipped the box, cascading a small pile colorful circles onto the tabletop. He opened the journal.

  While munching on the crunchy cereal, he stared at the pages covered with fine, precise script and well-marked diagrams. Although his eyes saw the words, his mind wandered elsewhere.

  He’d been too long in this life. Too much of who he was had slipped from beneath his flamboyant facade. Always in the past he’d moved on long before now, leaving a mystery and little else. Twice he’d tried to leave, to disassociate himself from this place, these people. Twice he’d returned.

  He drew in a deep breath then released it slowly. He was tired of moving on, starting over, deciding who he would be. The closest he’d ever been to his true self, he liked who he was now. Liked his place in the world. Maybe he should consider...

  But not now. There was too much on the table already for his adopted family. Once everyone was safely home, once the drama this family constantly found themselves in was over, maybe then. He crunched slowly, swallowed, then took a long drink. He would come clean with them.

  Or disappear.

  The sounds of someone scuffling over the stone littered ground woke Gowthaman from an exhausted, oddly peaceful sleep. Without moving he glanced around, wondering when he’d fallen asleep. The sweet memory of Breanna holding him brought him to sitting as he looked around for her.

  Chance was the only one visible at their tiny campsite. When the young man noticed him, Chance dropped the pack he rummaged through and hunkered down beside him.

  “As far as I can tell, it’s still a couple hours until whatever passes as dawn.”

  Gowthaman nodded and took the water Chance held out to him. Chance studied him while he drank greedily, but the frank perusal did not cause him distress as it had so often in the past. He lowered the bottle to his knee and looked around. The landscape was still the same bleak gray, yet it seemed less oppressive. He would survive.

  “Where... are the others?”

  Chance tossed him a cocky grin. “The... others. Well, Coralie and Morghan are off that way somewhere.” He waved over his shoulder then looked expectantly at Gowthaman.

  Shaking his head at the young man’s impetuous nature, Gowthaman obliged. “And Breanna?”

  Although the smile remained in place, the teasing glint in Chance’s eyes faded. His gaze skittered to one side then back. “Said she needed a little private time.”

  Breanna’s brother had no talent in prevarication. Tight, dense terror sucked at Gowthaman’s breath. “Why?”

  “Sometimes... Oh, hell, Gowthaman. She healed you, even I can see that. Can’t you just leave it?”

  The terror took a jagged bite into his heart. He clasped Chance’s arm. “Tell me what you mean.”

  Chance studied him for a few seconds, gave a sharp nod and sat. “She’ll kill me for this, you know. But, maybe it’s time. It’s like this, Gowthaman. She heals.”

  “Yes, we have established that.”

  Waving a hand to prevent Gowthaman’s further speech, Chance continued. “She heals two ways. Physical and emotional. The physical’s easy. She takes the hurt, the pain and somehow it dissipates. Somewhere. I don’t think she understands the process either. It’s just something she does. We’ve both benefited from the physical healing. To her it’s no big deal. But the other.”

  “The pain of a mind in torment.”

  “Yeah. Look, I have some idea what you went through, how much baggage you’ve carried around with you. I’m glad two finally got all that taken care of.”

  The urge to shake the young man strained Gowthaman forward. Chance must have read his intent, for he leaned back and said, “Okay. But she’s really gonna kill me.”

  “And if she is reluctant...” He gave a small smile to soften his threat. The worry remained, but without the burden of negativity, he had opened his heart to a world, to many worlds, of possibilities. Possibilities he would explore with Breanna once Chance told him where she hid.

  “Only a few people know about this. Mom and Dad, Granda, Jayse. I suppose you’d find out sooner or later anyway, seeing as how... well, never mind that. I only know because I followed her once when she told me not to.” He ducked his head. “I made it worse because she tried to hold back.”

  “Hold what back? Chance, tell me where Breanna is.”

  “In a grotto over that way. The place Morghan mentioned earlier.”

  Gowthaman tensed his muscles to rise, but Chance pressed down on his shoulder. “Wait. Before you go running off, I’ve got to tell you more. Unlike when she heals physical injuries, and the pain just kinda flows from her and drains away, when there’s emotional pain involved...”

  Grasping Chance’s wrist, Gowthaman growled a low threat. A knot formed in the pit of his belly. Bitter acid filled his throat. He knew, but needed to hear the words. “What are you avoiding telling me?”

  Now Chance’s eyes dimmed, a flash of tortured denial spoke more to Gowthaman than any words. “The pain, she takes it inside herself. It doesn’t just float away. She carries your agony with her until she has time, a private place, somewhere where she can let them go.”

  “But when she was a child—”

  “She doesn’t understand that either. Maybe it didn’t bother her then because of a child’s innocence. That’s been the best theory we’ve been able to come up with. Once she understood the scope of emotional pain, she was unable to simply funnel it though herself.”

  “Are you saying she is out there somewhere trying to rid herself of my torment? That I did this to her? Gave her my pain?”

  “Hell, Gowthaman, you didn’t do anything to her. She took from you. And willingly. She’d do it again in a minute.”

  “I must go to her.”

  Chance grabbed his shoulder again. Gowthaman resisted the need to shake off the unwanted pressure and rush into the murky gray to find his beloved. Chance held his gaze, a fierce light in his eyes so similar to Breanna’s, Gowthaman’s heart stalled. “No. She wouldn’t want you to see.”

  The heavy beat of his heart resumed with his determination. “I must go. She will see me.”

  Chance held up his hands in mock defeat. “I’ve made my token resistance. You tell her that. She does need you now.” He reached blindly to one side and snagged a blanket. “Take this, she’ll be cold.”

  Gowthaman rose, took the blanket then paused. Perhaps he should not intrude upon her.

  Chance scrambled to his feet and gave him a not too gentle shove between the shoulder blades. “Go. Don’t think. Just do. Geez,” he muttered as Gowthaman stumbled away. “Who’da thunk I’d be giving relationship advice.”

  Hands covering her face, Breanna collap
sed to her knees. She’d barely reached the tiny, hidden grotto before her legs gave out and she could go no further.

  How had Gowthaman carried such a tremendous weight of guilt and pain every day? He was so much stronger than she’d ever imagined. If only she had known the extent of the damage he kept hidden, she would have insisted on this healing long ago, and never given up until he relented and allowed her to help. How different would his life be, or her life... their life together?

  Bending forward until her forehead pressed against the ground, she gasped for breath then coughed when the dry dust coated her throat. She lifted her head slightly, scraped her fingers through her hair.

  The pain of biting her lip failed to contain her sobs. Dry as the land around her, the sounds of an intense healing echoed in her ears, trembled through her chest. Gowthaman’s healing. Chains, cold and burning like ice wrapped around her heart, crept agonizingly along her veins, invaded her mind. Clinking silently against the memories of the pain she’d eased from Gowthaman, the bindings threatened to pull her inexorably into those memories, to hold her there. To replace Gowthaman’s pain with her own.

  She struggled to straighten her back and face the coming release upright. But her muscles refused to respond and tightened, keeping her frozen in tortured agony. Years he’d carried this with him. Years she could have given him if she’d only known. But her naïveté... she shook her head violently. No, at five she had been an innocent child, believing she helped. Repercussions now helped no one.

  She pounded her fists against the ground in rhythm to the sobs wracking her body. It hurt. Oh gods, it hurt.

  Hurts.

  She tasted blood but bit her lip harder to keep from crying out. The force of her fists raised a cloud of dust that settled over her. Violent coughs battled with her dry sobs. As though she had run miles, sharp pains punctured her sides. Yet those pains were minor irritants compared to the anguish she fought to force from her mind and soul.

  Finally, she pressed one hand to the ground and forced herself to straighten. Rocking on her knees, she wrapped her arms about her waist, and tipped her face to the sky.