by KB Anne
I creep over, planning to use the element of surprise on my stalker. The plan would have worked too, if the alleged stalker hadn’t opened the door and stuck his head in.
“Scott, what are you doing?” I hiss at him. These are the times I wished I carried around a foam noodle, so I could whack him in the head for scaring me.
“I can’t sleep,” he says. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” I reply more cheerfully than warranted because, hello, spending the entire night listening to Scott unload his issues outweighs the alternative of actually sleeping by at least fifty million.
“You couldn’t sleep either?” he whispers as he makes himself comfortable on the corner of my bed.
I prop my pillow up and slip back under the covers. “No.”
“Why not?” He genuinely wants to know. He’d also like a distraction from his own haunted mind, but no such luck from me. Unpacking my shit, even in whispers, will make it real, and my nightmares are freaky enough.
“Let’s not go there. Let’s wade through your crap tonight.”
My ability to read his mind allows him to go right for the jugular.
“She comes to me when I sleep.”
I know exactly who he’s talking about. “That’s good, right?”
“At first it was, but you’ve seen how the truth is gnawing away at me. This waiting for her . . . I hate it. If I don’t meet her soon, I might do something I’ll regret.” He envisions Hurricane Maria hitting Puerto Rico then multiplies it by ten. We were only kids, but those images will stay with us for the rest of our lives. If Scott’s capable of exacting more damage than that, we are fecked.
“But you haven’t come close to that since our second day here.”
“I keep it locked inside. I need Gallean to train me, but it’s hard. I can’t tell you how many times I almost blew it.”
I had no idea he was struggling so much. But then, I was too busy getting my ass kicked by Gallean’s dance moves to worry about Scott. I was just trying to survive. “You’re good at hiding it.”
He rakes his hands through his hair. “I’m tired of hiding it. I just want to find her. I wish I knew her name.”
“I call her Shadow Girl.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Shadow Girl?”
“Yeah, she hid in the shadows the whole time she was here. The name fits.”
“Shadow Girl sounds exotic.”
“Do you know what she looks like?”
An image of a gorgeous female pops into my head. Leather armor. A sword attached to her back. Leather pants. A lean body with mile-long legs. Black hair with white tufts. Of course, we need to discuss the hair situation, but first, my initial reaction: “She would totally kick your ass.”
He gives me a knowing smile. “Yeah, she would.”
“When did she come to you as a fully formed person?” Up until the other day he had only seen her spirit. It’s her true being he’s in love with. The exterior is just a bonus.
“Last night. And now I feel like there’s a hole in my heart. I won’t be content until I find her.”
“Gallean doesn’t want us to meet until it’s time.”
“When did you become a rule follower?”
“How dare you,” I growl, karate kicking his leg.
“Ouch, that hurt.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t have my boots on.”
He rubs his leg. “What was that for?”
“For even suggesting I’ve changed into a rule follower. I was merely telling you what Gallean said, and that, clearly, we need to break out.”
“I’m supposed to get that from a kick?”
I climb off the bed and grab my backpack from the table. “It would be much easier if you could read my mind, but alas, you have limitations. Now, grab your things and let’s skip this joint.”
He stands up beside me. “Do you think we should? What if we mess things up?”
I shake my head, laughing at him as I tug on my pants then my boots. “Of course we’ll mess things up. Let’s embrace that fact.”
He considers my proposal for like a fraction of a second, then races out of the room.
Be right back.
He returns at his superhuman speed, completely dressed, with a backpack slung over his shoulder. “Ready?”
“Easy, speedy. Not everyone moves like Edward.”
“Get over your vampire crush, and let’s go.”
I march over and punch him in the arm.
“What was that for?”
I show him my nightlock crystal. “Clearly, I’m Team Jacob.”
“Right. Forgive me. Now let’s go.”
* * *
We creep down the hall. Scott slips into Mission Impossible spy mode. He glances back and forth, gives me the two-finger-to-eye-I-see-you move, then slips down the stairs. He’s intentionally going slow so I can keep up. It’s unfair that, even as a reincarnated goddess, I still lack any athletic prowess whatsoever, but Scott, who was already a freakishly athletic jock in his non-reincarnated god life is now full-on Captain America. I mean, couldn’t I at least have gotten some of Wanda the Scarlet Witch’s power so I can hurt the bad guys? But, nooooo, I’m a peace-loving goddess. Joy.
We hurry across the courtyard, being careful not to make a noise on the stones. Docs kick ass and no one hears them coming. After we pass through the tunnel, we break out in a run. We didn’t plan it or make a big production, and say, “One, two, three, and run!” We just knew to get moving.
Scott keeps pace with me. I can tell he wants to carry me so we can go faster, but he knows I won’t let him. I might not be speedy, but I am mighty. And proud. And really stubborn.
We approach the first barrier. Neither one of us thinks much of it, though we do notice that it’s more visible in the darkness. We’re five feet, four feet, three feet, then zap! We hit the barrier and get knocked backward, just like at Newgrange.
Scott stands back up. “Why can’t we walk through it?”
I wave my hands along the edge of it. Now that I know the barrier at Newgrange not only keeps people out but also keeps people, magical creatures, and the like in, I suspect I know what’s going on.
“You would be correct in your assumption,” Gallean says, appearing next to us.
“Correct in what assumption?” Scott asks him.
“Gigi believes I’m trying to keep you here.”
Scott swings his head back and forth between us. He thinks he should probably be mad, but he’s also kind of relieved. “Are you?”
I’m already feeling claustrophobic, and to call me pissed would be a gross understatement. I wave my hand in front of the barrier. “Uh, hello? What does it look like to you? Yes, he’s imprisoned us.”
Scott crosses his arms. He won’t try to get through the barrier, but he’s not going back to the keep until he’s satisfied. “Why, Gallean?”
“You need to be trained. Soon I will be unable to train you. You must learn.”
He really knows how to work Scott, but his little speech won’t persuade me. “You can’t keep us prisoner.”
Scott waves me off as if I’m a minor inconvenience. “Why won’t you be able to train us? What will happen to you, Gallean?”
“It matters not. The universe prepares for the three of you, but the time has not yet come.”
Gallean leads Scott back to the keep. I reluctantly follow. What else can I do?
Well, I could create a portal . . . like the one that got us here in the first place. I picture Granda’s cottage and finding Alaric, and we’re together by Brigit’s sacred well, and—
“A portal won’t work here,” Gallean calls out to me.
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” I mumble under my breath, still envisioning the sparkling water of the well.
“True, but I do know that while you’re in my keep, you cannot create a portal.”
I focus on Alaric—he’s how we got here in the first place. I imagine pulling him into my arms and kissing him. I
try to remember the way it feels when we’re together and long for it.
“My keep suppresses all magic. Even that of reincarnated gods and goddesses.”
“Not much fun in that.”
“Perhaps not, but much safer.”
Gigi, we need him.
I don’t need him.
Maybe not, but I do.
You’re pulling that card, are you?
Learned from the best.
Scott returns to me and reaches for my hand. “Together?”
I rest my hand in his and allow him to guide me. For Scott I will do anything.
19
The World
Caer now understood what her father had chanted when Balor had raised the blade to his throat. His last words weren’t to save himself; they were to protect her. His sacrifice had turned her into this elegant beautiful creature who could swim, who could fly, who could escape from a monster.
The white tufts of hair marked her as Other. It’s why Mathair Mhór had taken such trouble to hide them and forbade her from swimming or even bathing in the sunlight. All these years she had felt like a part of her was missing. Now she knew why.
Her body glided across the lake, feeling more natural than it ever had on land. True, compared to many she was gifted physically in human form. Her muscles were toned and shapely, capable of exacting murder or slipping coin out of a pocket. She was especially skilled with a sword and bow. Of course, her ability to go invisible lent itself to an array of capabilities she couldn’t begin to count and made her weapon skills often unnecessary, though good to have. But being able to shift into a swan? That was a gift of love and a promise that, as a swan, she’d never be in need of company.
One hundred fifty swans served as her loyal subjects. They’d alert her to danger on the water. They’d protect their queen by numbers alone. For the first time since Mathair Mhór’s hut, she felt safe. She felt like she belonged.
She wondered if Balor knew she could shift into a swan. She didn’t think so. If he knew the truth, he would have trapped every last swan in all the realms to ensure she didn’t get away. So what was it that he wanted from her? Was there another part of her yet to discover?
She swam through the water, her legs finally stretching and moving in a manner they’d always longed to. But even in this magnificent form, which made her feel so incredibly alive, she wanted to get back into the castle. The ability to shift into a swan didn’t dissuade her from needing to kill Balor. She would find a way to get to him at his most vulnerable. She’d enter through the tunnels. The exit she had used to escape this time was likely the same one she’d used as a child. Of course, she’d have to steer clear of the branch that led to the royal washroom. The crocodiles were surely enchanted, but the wound on her leg was real enough. She didn’t recall turning into a swan that night so many years ago, but then, for most of her life she had blocked the entire evening from her memory. Gallean had pushed her to remember bits and pieces of it, but she still hadn’t remembered the shift.
She soon grew weary of her flock. Each time she tried to glide in the direction of the castle, they steered her away as if they knew their queen was risking exposure and they’d sworn to protect her. If she was going to get any insight on the castle, she’d have to shift back into her human form, and she wasn’t quite sure how to go about doing it. Could she shift back as easily as she had transformed into the swan? It would prove a useful ability, especially while in Balor’s realm. Whenever his sorcerer closed in on her location, she’d shift into a swan and swim or fly away. She’d try tomorrow in the thickets.
The moon waxed high in the night sky. Soon it would phase into the Shadow Moon. That was when the brother and sister were supposed to have arrived. Gallean had believed there were universal rules that everyone must follow in whatever realm they may be in, but the brother and sister had broken the rules. Perhaps Caer could break the rules too.
And what of the brother and sister? Gallean had said they were to join as three powers, the trí cumhacht, and that their powers would surpass his own, but was it because of her swan form or because of other powers she had yet to discover?
Her body tingled beneath the feathers when she thought of the brother. He triggered something in her that went far beyond physical attraction. Sure, he was handsome. Godlike even. But there was something beneath his exterior that spoke to her. Called to her.
She tucked her head beneath her wing and drifted off to sleep.
* * *
She tiptoed over to the sleeping figure. Her toes peeked out of from beneath her leather leggings. They reminded her of half-moons, and she knew she was human again. Her heart raced as she approached the bed. After spending a lifetime hiding in the shadows, Caer was surprised at her own boldness, but confidence surged within her. If pressed, she could shift into a swan and fly out the open window into the night. Swans may not be as swift as sparrows or as predatory as hawks, but they are strong and powerful. They are the birds of legend.
The blankets rose and fell with his breathing. She leaned in to watch his eyes dance beneath the lids. She imagined them sparkling with delight at the discovery of her there. She longed to peer at them, but waking him was a risk. Gallean had warned her not to return. He’d claimed it wasn’t time for the three of them to unite.
Scott’s mouth pulsed as if he was talking in his sleep or maybe kissing someone. She couldn’t read minds, but the thought of him kissing another surged red hot in her veins. She dropped an image of herself into his head. His lips rose in a smile, and he let out a soft sigh.
She imagined waking him and asking him to go for a walk. He nodded and reached for her hand. In a reckless move, she let him take it. Jolts of energy shot through them. She’d gone too far. She could sense him fighting to arise from his slumber. She cloaked herself as she pulled her hand from his and ran toward the open window.
“What’s your name?” he whispered into the darkness, his voice reverberating in her mind, in her soul.
“Caer,” she replied as she leapt onto the windowsill.
“Caer,” he sighed, rolling over in his bed as she stretched her wings and disappeared into the night.
* * *
She woke with a jerk. Her head flew out from under her wing. Foggy brained, she glanced around. She was still tucked into the middle of the flock on the embankment of the lake, exactly where she had fallen asleep.
How could that be? She’d visited the brother in the Land of Shadows. Hadn’t she? Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between what was real and what was imagined.
The rest of the flock began to stir, sensing their queen was awake. Their movement obscured her view of the castle, but it was there, nonetheless.
A burning desire to see Scott again replaced any betrayal she felt toward him and his sister. She tilted her head toward the night sky.
In time everything would work out. It was funny how comfortable she felt in her new form. Her whole life she had been scared. Now, in this more fragile form, she felt strong. Confident. Proud.
Someday she’d return to the Land of Shadows. She’d return and kiss the brother. Many times.
* * *
As the sun rose, Caer stared at the castle. She needed to get back inside and figure out the best way to kill Balor. The washroom was clearly out—between the crocodiles and its location behind the throne room, there was no way she’d be able to kill him and disappear without alerting his guards. The bedroom then. If she mastered her shapeshifting, she could fly to his window at night, stab him in his patched eye, and disappear into the darkness.
With his death, chaos would ensue. His second in command would take over. She’d kill him too. She’d kill everyone who attempted to take control of the castle. They’d soon fear the night phantom killer. They’d never suspect a woman, much less the daughter of the former king. The tunnels would be searched in hopes of finding a shred of evidence of the killer’s identity. They’d find nothing.
Every guard would fall u
nder suspicion. Trust would disappear. Caer would strike again and again until there was no one left to kill or they abandoned the castle. Then, and only then, Caer would take her place as Queen.
Yes, it was a splendid plan—one filled with blood and revenge—but there was a crucial component that would need to be worked out before she could take another life. Her ability to shift.
She swam over to the thicket. Surprisingly, the flock remained a distance away as if they sensed what she was about to attempt and wished to provide her with privacy. Their distance also told her she wasn’t in danger. She waded between the reeds and tall grasses until her feet reached the mucky bottom. She waddled onto a raised dry bed, and glanced down at her silver necklace. It had changed from sword to chain when she swam through the channel in the tunnel. She was counting on it shifting back into the sword when she took on her human form again. If not, her plans to kill Balor while he slept would be difficult—though not impossible.
She quieted her breathing. The song of crickets and other insects filled her with confidence—it meant she was alone. In her dream, she had become human when she’d landed on Scott’s window. The shift had occurred as naturally as flying when in swan form.
The memory of Scott’s sleeping form filled her with longing. Overcome with desire, she reached out to touch him. Her wing of feathers transformed into an arm with skin. Her beak pulled in on itself. Her legs stretched and elongated. The tall grass on either side of her disappeared, leaving nothing but blue skies and the lake in front of her. She cracked her neck from side to side, her shift from prey to predator complete.
But it wouldn’t do. She refused to rely on her attraction to a man to necessitate the shift. It was Caer who had survived on her own all those years between Mathair Mhór’s death and her time with Gallean. It was Caer who had snuck into the castle and fought off the crocodiles. It was Caer who had killed a man. She swung her sword high in the air. No man would define her.
