Ghalien

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Ghalien Page 7

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson


  I gasped in horror. The Morrigan was on the attack again.

  "Cade?" Devlin asked, his brow creased in worry.

  "Quick!" I rasped, pressing a hand against one of the stones to keep my furious glamour from bursting free, "give me a task. Anything to pull my mind away from her hold!"

  Devlin darted his eyes to his brother, but Rhyne looked just as helpless his older sibling.

  "A fire!" Devlin shouted. "Cade, we need to start a fire for dinner."

  Nodding and then regretting the movement for the sudden dizziness it caused, I followed after them, half-stumbling along as the image of Meghan continued to deteriorate into something horrific. Fortunately, the task seemed to be helping. The O'Brolaigh brothers and I kept busy gathering fallen branches and when they assigned me the job of creating a spark with my flint while they sang old bawdy tavern songs, the horrible vision vanished.

  "Really, if you are trying to impress us with your prowess and intelligence, you are going about it all the wrong way."

  Rhyne blanched as Fenrah's voice carried around the closest boulder.

  "Perhaps there is no hope for either of them," Enorah added as they stepped into the small clearing. Both women had mischievous smiles on their faces.

  "Don't be too hard on them," I said, "Rhyne and Devlin were trying to help me chase away one of the Morrigan's visions."

  Suddenly, Enorah's mirth evaporated and she was standing by my side, her hand resting on my shoulder. "What happened, Cade?"

  I brushed her hand aside and stood up from the fresh campfire.

  "It wasn't too bad, and Devlin and Rhyne helped drive it away."

  Enorah nodded toward the two young men and said, "My thanks."

  A short, awkward silence followed only to be broken by Fenrah clearing her throat.

  "Anyone hungry?" she asked, holding up three pheasants.

  "Starved," I proclaimed, grateful to turn the conversation away from me. I appreciated everyone's concern, but their pity wouldn't bring an end to the Morrigan's wrath.

  By the time we finished plucking, roasting and eating the birds, darkness had fallen and Devlin stood up to take the first watch.

  "Rhyne can follow after me, then Enorah or Fenrah."

  "I'll take the third watch," Enorah offered. "Cade and Fenrah can rest this first night."

  My pride urged me to protest, but they were right. I was already exhausted from the night before and today's long walk. Getting several hours of sleep would benefit us all. Devlin climbed atop the tallest rock and the rest of us found our bedrolls. Enorah dragged hers closer to mine and I gave her an agitated look.

  "I'm not a helpless child, you know."

  "Oh I know," she said merrily, "but you're still my little brother."

  I didn't bother to mention that I outweighed her by a hundred pounds and that I transformed into a fearsome beast when provoked. There was worry in my sister's eyes, though she tried to hide it with manufactured optimism, so I let her coddle me a little more than usual. Besides, I was too weary to argue. Within ten minutes of lying down, I was fast asleep.

  Seven

  Nightmare

  I was dreaming. I had to be because when I woke up I was no longer lying on the hard ground with a meager blanket wrapped around me to stave off the chill. No, I was reclining on something soft and warm and the early morning light filtered in through tall, diamond paned windows. Blinking in surprise, it took me a few moments to cast aside my confusion. When I realized where I was, I sucked in a breath of shock. I was in my castle at Luathara, in the master suite, the room I had made my own when the ruined fortress became mine. The only difference was that this room happened to be fully restored. The walls were covered in beautiful tapestries and the windows had been repaired. The bed I had been sleeping in was larger than the one I was used to and the sheets were as smooth as satin. And how could I tell how smooth they were . . ? I glanced down at my bare chest and realized the only thing keeping me decent were the sheets.

  A brush of movement pulled my attention away from my perusal and I glanced up toward the bench window. What I saw nearly stopped my heart. Meghan sat there wearing a pale green gown almost sheer enough to be classified as transparent. She smiled warmly and stood gracefully, slowly making her way toward the bed. My throat suddenly went dry and I didn't dare blink in case that action made her disappear. She came to stand beside the bed and placed one hand on my chest, just over my heart, while the other she ran gently through my hair.

  "Meghan?" I said, my voice hitched.

  "Shhh," she whispered as she sat down on the bed next to me.

  Every last nerve in my body was on edge as Meghan's essence and scent flooded my awareness. How often had I dreamt of this?

  As my heart thumped uncontrollably inside my ribcage, Meghan moved in closer and stretched herself out beside me, bringing her head to rest just below mine, her cheek pressed against my heart. She released a deep, heavy sigh and closed her eyes. I closed mine as well, but it was more in an attempt to fight my wild glamour, my battle fury, as it begged to break free. I hated that my emotions had such an effect on it. I was certain that in this case it had no desire to kill. No, it was an entirely different activity it keened for, but there was no way I was going to give over control in that quarter.

  "I just want to be close to you, Cade. Please, just let me rest with you."

  Oh, I wasn't about to argue. I only hoped I'd be able to keep control of my instincts.

  Shaking my head to clear it of those thoughts, I began to stroke Meghan's hair. She needed me to comfort her right now. I didn't know why, but at the moment I also didn't care. Instead, I allowed myself to bask in this utter bliss.

  Moments or even hours passed, I couldn't tell which, before Meghan spoke again.

  "You know," she murmured, shifting so that she pressed even closer to me, "I was thinking . . ."

  She shifted her head and I sucked in a breath when I felt her lips press to my bare skin.

  "I'm always so worried about you when you leave to go to Eile. I worry that the Morrigan is going to hurt you."

  Meghan was saying something about being concerned, but it was getting really hard to concentrate, what with her kissing her way up my torso.

  "Well, I had a sort of idea." She paused at my neck, her breath tickling the hair at my temple.

  "What if," she murmured into my ear, "we talk to the Morrigan together, see what she wants. Maybe we can compromise with her, and then we can be together."

  My perfect paradise shattered with the mention of my mother's name. My over-heated skin instantly turned cold and I felt myself pulling away, despite my craving for Meghan's touch.

  Meghan reached out for me, cupping the back of my head with one hand and pulling me in for a kiss. I opened my mouth to protest, but I forgot why I was trying to put distance between us when her mouth pressed against mine. I lost all control then, giving in to the one thing I had been yearning to do for so long. That light peck I had given her the night the Cumorrig nearly killed her paled in comparison. No, this is what I desired: Meghan, sitting on her knees and straddling my lap, taking full control of our kiss. I forgot my earlier concern and readily participated, wrapping my arms around her slim waist and pulling her in closer as my glamour danced just below the surface of my skin.

  At some point, I broke away from the kiss and my muddled thoughts began to grow clearer. What had Meghan said before she kissed me? Something about dealing with the Morrigan? The memory hit me like an avalanche. Meghan leaned in to continue what she had started, but I held her back.

  "Meghan," I managed, my voice raw with emotion, "as much as I'm enjoying this, we need to talk, to think this through. We cannot reason with the Morrigan. It simply cannot be done."

  I glanced up at her and nearly choked. Feral, blood-thirsty eyes stared back at me and when Meghan pulled back her lips into a malicious smile, I saw jagged, shark-like teeth. I gasped in horror, trying to get away from her. She became suddenly, impossibly s
trong, one hand clamping down on my wrist like a vice. She grinned that nightmarish grin and blood trickled from her lips.

  "Oh Caedehn," a ruined voice taunted, "do you not want me to be happy?"

  I shook my head, trying to understand what was going on. What was happening to her?

  Then her teeth began to grown longer, sharper. Her eyes turned black and her skin stretched over her delicate bones. She screeched and lunged at me, clamping down on my shoulder with her teeth, sinking them in deep.

  I snarled from the shock and the pain, but I didn't try and throw her off. Instead, I shouted her name, desperately trying to reach the Meghan I knew. She had been cursed and just like me when I was in the midst of my riastrad, it would take more than words to reach her.

  "Meghan! Meghan!"

  I began thrashing because she wouldn't let go.

  "Meghan!"

  Before I could pull the monster that had been Meghan from my shoulder, something yanked me from the horrible scene and pulled me back to the world of the living.

  Panting and coughing, I flailed my arms as someone murmured my name.

  "Cade! Cade calm down, it's me, Enorah!"

  My left hand swept up to my shoulder where the Meghan-monster had bitten me, but I felt no wound, only warm flesh. The strange echo of a satisfied laugh rung in my ears. The Morrigan. This was her doing. I shuddered in utter disgust.

  "You were having a nightmare," Enorah continued speaking, her voice low but insistent. "You just need to let the shock pass. I've got you."

  Her hand was pressed against my forehead and gradually, I allowed myself to calm down. After a few moments, Enorah moved her hands away and I draped one arm across my eyes as I waited for my heart rate to return to normal and for my glamour to settle.

  Silence descended between us, and only when I thought it was safe to speak, I said in a rough voice, "I'm sorry, Enorah."

  When she didn't answer me, and when I was sure the sickening dizziness that engulfed me had passed, I turned my head and cracked open an eye. The campfire still burned low, the coals glowing like the throat of the draghan we would face in a week's time. Sighing, I sat up and let my head hang low like a prisoner awaiting the gallows. I almost choked. In a way, that's where my life seemed to be headed. It would be hard to think of Meghan now without also picturing that monster.

  As if she could read my thoughts, Enorah chose that moment to finally speak. "Who's Meghan?"

  Ah. So I had screamed her name out loud and not just in my dream. Not too surprising. Apparently, it was time for the two of us to have that conversation I'd been avoiding.

  "Not here," I growled, "in case the others wake up."

  Enorah nodded, a motion I could barely make out in the weak moonlight.

  "Come on," she murmured as she stood up. "Technically, I'm still on watch. You can join me for the last part of it."

  From the position of the moon, I could tell there was still an hour or so left before dawn. Crawling out of my bedroll, I stood and stretched, shivering a little because of the slight chill in the air and happily accepting my sister's support. We moved toward the boulder that was located furthest away, the one right on the edge of the wide, ever-moving pool of water. With a little more effort than usual, I managed to climb atop the stone and sit down, Enorah only inches away from me.

  "So," she said quietly into the still night, her words slightly drowned out by the rush of the tributaries surrounding us, "are you ready to tell me who this Meghan person is? I take it she's the one you've been protecting from the Morrigan."

  She turned and looked at me and even though I couldn't see her eyes very well, I could feel the intensity of her stare. Enorah wanted to know if this girl was worth the punishment I was putting myself through.

  I sighed. Normally, I would have tensed up and done everything I could to avoid this conversation, but I felt it was finally time to tell my sister about Meghan, even as that horrific, shark-toothed perversion threatened to rear its ugly head once again.

  I bent my head and let my chin rest against my chest before taking another deep breath. When I released it, I said, "You are correct. Meghan is the name of the young woman I've been protecting, and she lives in the mortal world."

  Enorah choked back a sound of surprise. She reached out a hand and placed it on my forearm. "A mortal woman? Oh Cade, tell me!"

  I gave a light laugh and turned to face her, my mouth forming a smile. I didn't think she could see it, but I'm sure she heard it in my words. "She is not mortal. She is Faelorehn, sent to the mortal world when she was very young."

  I angled my head back and gazed up into the sky, at least the parts of the sky I could see through the trees.

  "And she isn't just any Faelorehn, Enorah," I murmured. "She is the daughter of someone very powerful, I can tell by her glamour."

  "Wait, how can you know all this, Cade? You had better start from the beginning."

  And so I did. I told her of how I'd stumbled upon the trail of glamour that first led me to Meghan, how I felt compelled to learn more about her, and how the Dagda later told me she must be the offspring of someone very strong to have such potent glamour, especially after begin in the mortal world for so long. I recalled how Meghan and I had first met down in the swamp, and about the fight with the Cumorrig. I even mentioned the day Meghan accepted my help from her tormentors at school and how I explained she was from Eile. And I told her about the Morrigan's attempt on Meghan's life and how I had broken my geis to save her.

  "My poor brother," Enorah said softly when I finally paused to take a breath.

  She scooted closer to me and wrapped her arms around my waist, leaning her head against my shoulder. It was something I often did those many years ago when I was little and she was my source of comfort. The gesture warmed me more than I could have expected. At the moment, however, I wasn't sure who was comforting whom.

  "She must be rather special for you to have gone to all this trouble."

  I felt my entire body go still, as if it were preparing for an assault. I swallowed.

  "She is," I said, my voice low and wary.

  Enorah kept speaking, as if she hadn't heard me, her voice vibrating against my arm, "To risk the Morrigan's wrath, and then to break your geis . . ."

  I sucked in a breath to speak, to deny what she was implying, but I couldn't utter a word. Instead, I clenched my jaw, wishing that the sky would stay dark as the approach of daybreak leant us some light. In the end, I didn't have to say a thing. Perhaps it was the fact that I had tensed up to argue, only to remain quiet, or maybe it was some unspoken magic that allowed people to understand what lurked just beneath the surface of half truths that seemed far too common in the world. Either way, something in my silence, in my demeanor, in the glamour I was giving off at that moment tipped my sister off to the truth, a truth I sometimes had a hard time admitting to myself.

  Enorah lifted a hand to her mouth and her eyes grew wide, their color shifting until they settled on a concerned, heart-felt brown.

  "Oh, Caedehn," she murmured, shifting out of the way in order to give me some space. "You've fallen in love with her, haven't you?"

  Once again, I had nothing to say. I only nodded ever so slightly. When Enorah's strong arms wrapped around me I leaned into her embrace. And that's what was strange about this whole thing; why Enorah was showing me sympathy. Because she knew the same thing I did. It didn't matter how I felt about Meghan, because if and when she ever found out about what I really was, who I had come from, then any fantasy I had manufactured about us ever being together would dissolve. The Morrigan, the goddess who had tried to kill her, was my mother. And Meghan was pure and innocent, uncorrupted by the evils of our world. She had not grown up exposed to the horrors and unkindness of the Otherworld. And me, well, I was a monster, a killer. Someone who had been used for years upon years by a goddess who enjoyed death and carnage. Meghan and I were from opposite worlds, despite the fact we were both of Eile, and I could not imagine a situation
in which I could be with her, despite the endless times I had fantasized otherwise. And Enorah knew all that. She knew I would only end up with a broken heart. Again. Unfortunately, my heart was far too stubborn to have learned its lesson in the past.

  Eight

  Trouble

  We were moving again within the hour, our bedrolls packed away and a quick breakfast settling in our stomachs. Enorah and I didn't speak of Meghan again, and I couldn't say if it was because of what we had already discussed or because soon after our conversation came to an end, the rest of our traveling companions had started stirring. Either way, I was grateful. One could only handle so much time of pouring one's soul out.

  Fenrah jogged in front of us, offering to keep an eye on what the trail ahead offered by way of danger or delight. Rhyne, not surprisingly, trailed after her like her shadow, eager to take on whatever adversaries lie ahead.

  "Did you rest well last night?"

  Devlin's now familiar voice broke into my self-reflection. I shook my own selfish thoughts from my mind and turned my head in his direction, nodding. It wasn't a complete lie; I had slept well until just before dawn.

  "So, tell me about you and your brother. I don't know much," I said by way of a conversation starter.

  Devlin shrugged as he picked his way around some stones littering the path. He pulled on the straps of his pack, adjusting it on his back and said, "What would you like to know?"

  "What brought you to the Weald to begin with?"

  "Our mother's death."

  I slowed my pace until I had stopped walking. Devlin, who hadn't noticed at first, paused and turned to look at me over his shoulder.

 

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