"I will show you all that you wish to know. I will let you see what it means to be me, Jacob; to live every day in myshoes. I will take you into the darkness and show you the proof that what you believe may or may not be true. And then you can decide whether you wish to deny what is so impossibly clear each time you look at me. You can choose denial, if you'd prefer. Go right ahead, it would be your choice. I will not say aught, it's up to you."
Turning swiftly on her heel, Ailill grabbed up her pack and her rifle, setting off into the woods with a quick stride before either man had so much as blinked. Jacob stared after her with a bone-deep pain in his eyes, feeling as if she had continually scratched at an already raw wound, though the wound was deep inside, buried for years until she had brought it back up to the surface with softly-spoken words; with the plain truth, though the truth was not so simple as that. Micah was the first to move, hauling himself up like a decrepit old man, moving as if his life were slowly being sucked from his body and his soul by some supernatural entity, as Kiah had predicted. His heart clenched like a fist at the look in his twin's eyes. A look of unutterable fear, and dark regret, and the sorrow that had been held in for so long that it had become a part of both men.
Throwing caution to the wind, Micah stepped forward and reached out, an almost smothering embrace, his own hurt feelings in turmoil; a feeling matched tenfold in the tremor running through Jacob's long, lean frame. He held him for a long while, heedless of the fact that Ailill was probably watching from the wood, her own suspicions seemingly borne out before her very eyes at the way they must look. He did not care. She had only proven that she did not truly understand the closeness they shared; the connection between them that made their every breath, their every heart beat, their every desire, flow in unison. And he had thought she, of all people, would.
Jacob heaved one great breathless sob and collapsed against his twin, silent tears spilling down his angular cheeks; too exhausted to hide anything at all, too weary to act the big, strong male anymore, as Kiah had raised them to do. A choice had to be made, and he did not know if he could make it. He felt like he would be giving up everything, his very self, to be with Ailill, though he did not know exactly why he felt that way. For as many times as she had said they knew nothing about her, she had certainly not tried very hard to tell either of them what they had already figured out. Her own unwillingness to show her true colors had sent him hurtling head first over the edge after the drama of last night and the confusing revelations of this morning. He was truly ashamed of himself. The realization of his own unwarranted cruelty towards the woman who had brought the ability to love again back into his empty heart made the tears fall faster, harder, his body wracked with it until he was spent. Sniffling unselfconsciously, feeling much less strained, Jacob moved back and met his twin's eye.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it." The mumbled words were a soft whisper and Micah shook his dark head, understanding the feeling very well. "You're right, both of you... I amlike Kiah. How can that be? I hate the man with every fiber of my being, but it all comes down to one thing! I can't do it. I can't love her. It'll all go wrong in the end. It always does." Jacob's tone held pain, wariness. He was truly afraid to let his heart lead him. It showed in his eyes.
Micah stared at him hard and took a deep breath, hoping that what he was going to say would not end up being a lie. "It won't go wrong this time, Jacob. I won't let it. I promise." His eyes held his twin's steadily, completely serious, compelling Jacob to follow through with the promise of Ailill, because he did not wish to give her up and neither did his twin. "I promise."
Staring for a beat longer, Jacob turned and picked up his and Micah's packs, shouldering his rifle with uneasiness as he watched Micah do the same, the cotton bandage stark white against the dark mass of his hair. As one, they turned and followed the path Ailill had made through the brush.
A Bit of Honesty
It was not hard to follow her. In her urgency, Ailill had left a clear trail through the wood, the surroundings familiar to Micah as soon as he stepped up to a stand of pines grown tall and thick around a tiny spring-fed pool. No more than five feet away a massive xenolithic formation, almost perfectly camouflaged beneath the varying greens of epilithic mosses, shown dark, broodingly ominous, under the shadows of the evergreen giants. Micah stopped at the edge of the pines, his twin silently drawing up behind to peer over his shoulder. The place was downright eerie; the entire area felt as if it were alive, humming with a rush much like the beating of a million hearts. The last time that he was there, spurred on by curiosity to follow soundlessly on the trail of Ailill's own kin who had taken to frequently disappearing right after she'd shown up, the memory suddenly sprang up, vivid behind Micah's eyes, the same near-paralyzing fear gluing his long feet to the spot for a few heartbeats, until Jacob gave him a nudge in the small of his back, drawing his dark-eyed gaze to where Ailill was standing, impatience in her stance, in the look on her face as she stared at them through the dim. Micah's feet moved of their own volition, drawing him to her from under the cover of fragrant pine boughs; Jacob followed close on his heels though he, too, felt as if his hair were beginning to stand on end.
"S'about time," Ailill muttered under her breath, a gleam in her eyes as she watched the two emerge from the trees. Her expression was set; a look of inscrutability long practiced until it was perfection. It hid the pounding of her own heart, the feelings coursing through her at the thought of what she was about to do. "Come closer," she commanded when both men stopped just inside the tree line. "You must wash in the burn before anything else. It is a part of the ritual, the test."
Stepping forward, they followed her lead, pouring handfuls of icy water over their own stony faces, over their bare arms. Neither could help but wonder just what the hell she meant by test. When she drank the crystal clear water from cupped hands, Micah and Jacob did as well, both wondering if the lightening within was simply relaxation from the surprisingly normal lavation or if there was something in the water which had a sedating effect. It seemed as if a relaxing wave had washed over them both with the ritualistic cleansing; when they looked at Ailill, she seemed much more at ease, as well, though her steady gaze still held a spark of irascibility within the frame of dark lashes. The smooth tips of her fingers drummed in agitation against the worn stone well-casing of the tiny ancient pool until she noticed that the two men were watching the telltale motion. She stopped instantly and leaned forward.
"Do you know whom you are, deep down inside?" Her gaze flicked from one to the other, searching, watching the expression in each man's eyes rather than his face. Micah stared back, hard.
"We ain't exactly what youthink we are," he drawled quietly, inwardly pleased that his voice seemed to be coming back already. "But, we arecloser than any normal brothers should be."
Blinking solemnly, Ailill nodded slightly in agreement. "I can see that, and it does bring a great many questions to my mind." Glancing between them, her eyes took on the light of intense curiosity for the briefest instant, but, instead of questioning them as she wished to do, Ailill looked away. "However, that was not what I meant," she added softly. "What has Kiah told you of yourselves? Has he said that you are different from all others you've known? Or did you figure that much for yourselves?" She looked back, sighing inwardly at the blank look in the eyes before her. Denial. And she was getting damn sick of seeing it, too.
"He said we are his sons by right, and that our destiny is to die young, as great warriors." Jacob's tone held a touch of irony which Ailill easily grasped.
"Aye, and if you are to be so very great, as he has said, then why would you die young?" She grimaced, not liking the thought of them dying, no matter how mean either one could be. "And did he tell you why?" she added casually, meeting Jacob's eye. She could see Micah's head sway in unison with his twin's from the corner of her eye. "Alright. Is it true that he never said one word about me before, while you were growing up?"
"No, never."
"Micah dreamed of you, even though he didn't know you were real; that's why he waited to have sex, 'cause he knew it would be with y'all."
He had said it quietly, watching her face for some sign of recognition on hearing the words. Ailill blinked back at him with that same inscrutable mask. "And did you ever dream of me, Jacob?" she asked in the same low tones. Her eyes held a touch of something he did not understand, and he shook his head, intending to say no though his voice betrayed him with a whispered 'yes'. Micah started in surprise, eying his twin curiously. Ailill watched them both for a long moment.
"Y'all never said so before," he stated hoarsely, almost in accusation.
"I didn't think much of it, man. I believe I was a little stoned at the time, anyway." Running a hand through his long hair, Jacob glanced at Ailill, embarrassed by the admission. He had been quite stoned, in reality, and lying with another; it had been a waking dream, the short blond hair above him had suddenly become long, fiery curls, the pale blue eyes suddenly changed to glittering sapphire framed with black. The shock of it, of such a realistic dreamscape, had given him a most humiliating case of flaccidity, which he had tried very hard to overcome in the month between then and meeting the woman who had shown herself so vividly to his drug hazed mind.
Noting his obvious abasement, Ailill respectfully averted her gaze away from Jacob's flushed cheeks. "Who do youbelieve you are?" she asked, attempting to keep the two on more important matters. She met Micah's eye with a look of open curiosity.
Hesitating only for a few beats, Micah smiled, rather unkindly, and said, "We are the sons of a man that y'all obviously can't stand. And we are mirror twins whom y'all obviously believe would rather be screwin' our own image than you." His eyes gleamed ferally, his desire to clear up more basic things right now clearly at the forefront of his mind. "We are Micah and Jacob Blacka strong name, strong stock, though y'all don't give us much credit for our own accomplishments, or for the fact that we ain't one bit like our bastard father, despite our looks. You'd rather believe what you want about us, so why don't you quit askin' us questions, since you so obviously know all the answers anyways, and we'll interrogate you instead because, as you are always pointing out, we know nothing of you orourselves." The expression on his face was unquestionably commanding. He expected her to answer him, even if he had to become nasty to get what he wanted. Ailill rolled her eyes knowingly and resettled herself, stretching her muscular legs out before her, eying the dirty spots on her knees with disdain; they hadn't been like that until Jacob shoved her into the dirt like a naughty dog. Micah studied her closely. "Who are you?" he said softly. "Whatare you?"
Ailill's eyes gleamed with pride, her back stiffening of it's own accord as she prepared to introduce herself fully to the brothers she was destined to be with. She smiled, allowing them a very small glimpse of what she really was in the darkness of her eyes, the pronounced point of her pierced ears. Both watched her closely, not believing that anything had really happened to her, their minds still stuck in the denial stage. It would obviously take something more drastic to bring them to the reality of their own situation. She smiled in anticipation at the thought, her mind working to connive a plan even as she began to speak.
"I am Ailill Fallon Brid Ciannait Sidhe Scota Aislinn Caoimhe Aithne Grear Etain Cliodhna Edana Kaie Skye Keegan Duffy Bascna-Morna. The daughter o' allthe clans. The first few being Shaw, Kyllachy, MacNachton, Chattan, Wallace, MacLeod, Fraser, MacCrimmon, Farquharson, Cameron, MacIntyre, Urquhart, Mackay, MacAdie, Carmichael, Dhai, MacCallum, MacTavish, Mackenzie, MacDuff, and Mackintosh." With the barest gleam of amusement in her eyes, Ailill took a theatrical breath. "There are yet a great many more clans counted in my blood; far too many to say, but no matter. My tribes are what count most. As the last true and living daughter of the unified tribes of DeDannan and Dal Riada , the two branches, Red and Black, respectively, I am one of the highest ranking pure-blood kin to the Ciannait Ard Righ of Dal Riada and Banrigh of the Realm of Sidhe. I am meant to be the lover of yourselves, as well as Tiernan, the three of you comprising the ancient Tierce, reborn, and I am meant to carry on the next generation of my own people, so that we may grow once more to our former glory, as was written in our own lost histories and in the spilled lifeblood of man, our kin." Her expression changed to one of dark brooding momentarily as she met each man's eyes. Blank, blank, blank! Damn them! silently cursed. Taking another deep breath, Ailill went on, her face more impassive with each word, memorized at the wee age of four, added to in the dozen or so years since. "I am the Arch Druid, High Priestess if you will, of the highest order of the ancient Druidic line; I am the Guardian of the Knowledge of the Celtic Trust. I have the Sight, a curse of the women, as well as a few of the men, in my closest bloodlines and the subsequent branches; I am a Master Seer, you see, which accounts for the dreams, and ever after I am forced to worry that my own children will be cursed with the Sight as well." Pausing momentarily, Ailill glanced between the two silent men, wondering why she could not bring herself to tell them the full truth; wondering why she felt she needed to tell them more, although she had known the answer to that question even before she had begun speaking. Micah had already proven as much, for all the good that did. The shared denial would do no good. They would find out the full truth soon enough.
"I have a great many responsibilities which neither of you could even begin to understand," she added cautiously. "I don not have the freedoms in thislife that I once had, nor that others, such as yourselves, still do have. I have no true choices, except where my heart sets and whom I may lie with, after I have fulfilled my obligations to you and to Tiernan according to the customs of my own people. I was forced to come back here, to fulfill two of the orders of my geise, in lying with each of you; that was supposed to happen when I first completed the change, but I was simply not ready that soon, in any aspect, as I wasn't quite yet twelve years old. I fought against that for two years and two years more before agreeing to the demands of my clan, and I must go back, to the land of my heart, to carry out the other half of my fate, with Tiernan and my own kindred." She stopped, flashing them a highly significant look, her eyes full of secrets. Micah eyed her in speculation, no longer able to feel surprise at whatever might come out of her mouth next. Jacob watched her with open curiosity, unable to believe a word she said. This was no more than a child's story, a well planned fairy tale.
Her gaze held each for a long while, her feelings unseen behind an odd gleam in her eyes. It was obvious that neither knew what to say, not clear that they had even understood any of her meaning; that both believed she lied. Though Micah's brain was rapidly filling up with questions, almost to the point of making his head throb, Jacob was the first to speak.
“Two and two still only add up to sixteen. You claim to be eighteen.”
“I am,” she agreed quietly. “I took a two year... hiatus, you could say. Too much was going on in the world. I felt it necessary to try and help my people when the sickness passed over to our kind. And then, as well, I felt a need to fight some much needed battles, until my grandmother insisted I come here to fulfill my vows.” She smirked, still irritated with all that had transpired to bring her back.
"Alright. What's Cachaileith na Sith?" he asked curiously, wondering how she would explain the place her father had called sacred. Reaching out to touch her arm, he stopped himself and let his hand fall, not wanting to try her patience after his earlier cruelty. Truth be told, she frightened him. Badly. The change in her was too obvious, the utter blackness of her eyes reminded him of a black hole, her ability to heal, the way she'd healed herself of his selfishly inflicted wounds was just the very tip of what could only be a massive iceberg... and he was the Titanic.
Ailill met his gaze with alacrity, a smile hidden in the depths of he
r oddly darkened eyes. "The doorway, of course, which leads into Tir na N'Og, but it is much more than that, Jacob. It will take me back to myself in the blink of an eye." She blinked, showing the man exactly how fast that would be, and he frowned.
"You know," he said slowly, sitting back with a surreptitious glance at his twin. He studied her with avid interest, noting the way her cheeks pinkened prettily before she looked away. "I can't say whether I believe you or not. Y'all sound a bit... crazy. The whole lot of you."
Unable to hide the frown his words caused, Ailill mentally ticked off one strike against the men. "I am sorry you think so," she said softly, her fingers drawing circles over the stone well of the pool. "That is a disadvantage you've put me under. I had thought you liked me, perhaps loved me a bit, even; though, honestly, I wouldn't want me either if I knew the truth. The full truth. And, besides that, I cannot compete with what you may or may not share. It quite simply isn't in me. However, I, and not one of my people, are crazy, as you say. Perfectly sane, the lot of us, just a wee bit... enchanted, aye?"
"Enchanted?" Jacob's head shook in disagreement. "Nope. Weird, I'll give ya, but not enchanted."
"Och, you've no idea," she hissed softly. "Strike two."
Taken aback, Jacob scowled at her. "Whatever," he muttered.
"Aye? I believed you'd come to know me better than this. Not only did I think you like me," she ground out, angry. "I had also thought you wanted me. But no matter; you will." Her tone was all seriousness; it cut through Jacob like a forboding blade, so dark with certainty that he shuddered.
Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series) Page 28
