TRUE (A Fire Born Novel Book 3)

by Laney McMann

  I shrugged, interrupting Tristan. "'Undo what has been done.' That's the curse, the part of the passage we believed was about breaking the curse."

  "Yeah, but nothing ever came of it." Tristan didn't sound convinced. "And like you said, this passage doesn't match the one I remember."

  "Well, a Black Moon is the second full moon of the month," Benny said.

  "So, when was the last full moon?" Tristan asked.

  "Over a week ago, when Justice and Max were playing at The Pub." Benny skimmed her hand through the pages of the book, standing next to him.

  "If that's true." Tristan glanced down. "Then the Black Moon can't be for another two weeks."

  "It was yesterday according to this book. The twenty-ninth day of the seventh month," Benny said. "The moon cycles aren't the same in this world."

  "I don't really care what the moon's cycles are," I said, turning to face them. "I'm a lot more concerned that this book from forever ago has Layla's name in it. It isn't an Irish name, or did neither of you catch that?" I snatched the book from Tristan's hands. "Why's it in an old Irish book?"

  "I caught it," Tristan said. "It means Lilith. The name Layla does. Lilith is just one of the many, many names that the fallen angel Lilith took." He grabbed the book away from my hand. "The Black Moon is also Lilith's Moon." He glared. "They're interchangeable. And that's probably why it's in this passage. As a clue."

  My head was already shaking. "Hang on ... what? Lilith was the angel who fell from grace. From Heaven. Not Mag Mell. Heaven. She's wasn't even our caliber of angel. Not one who served the Ancient Fire Born Gods and Goddesses, but an angel from Christianity."

  "Yup." Tristan flipped to the next page.

  "That makes no sense." I scanned the pages over his shoulder.

  Drawings, inscriptions, and sayings were everywhere. Fire cannot consume wind. Air only feeds the flame. The barrier shall burn the unworthy. Symmetry. Harbinger of winter. When the first snow falls. Tir na N'og.

  Tristan flipped to the next page. "It's referring to Lilith's moon, not Lilith herself. I think."

  "'Harbinger of winter.'" Benny pointed toward the words. "That's what Fae legend says the White Raven is. The bird signals the coming of winter. The Fae call the Harbinger, a savior. In all the stories, the White Raven carries a message. It's a mediator animal. They aren't body or spirit, but exist between life and death, this world and the world beyond. Like coyotes and cats in some cultures."

  "Coyotes and cats?" I rubbed my forehead, focusing on my brother. "No one's ever even seen a White Raven before, and I don't remember anything about one in the legends we read. They have to be a myth."

  "Facts lie at the grain of all myths." Benny gave a smug grin. "This snow we're having isn't normal. Something's causing it. The Harbinger of winter ..."

  "Maybe." Tristan stood up. "'When the first snow falls ...' the first snow has fallen, is falling. And Tir na N'og. That's the Land of Eternal Youth." He glanced up. "Why's that in here?"

  "I don't know. Maybe that's where they went, the Fomorians," I said, not really meaning it—the idea was as ridiculous as the White Raven.

  "No way." Benny shook her head. "They aren't headed to Tir na N'og."

  "I don't disagree with you, but truth is, we don't know where they are headed." I tried to avoid staring in the direction of Max's blood-soaked clothes, still unable to shake the picture of him lying unconscious in the Otherworld's Infirmary. "This book could mean anything or nothing. We're wasting time reading indecipherable crap written thousands of years ago when there's only one small sentence in here I even recognize. We need to find Layla." My head started to ache.

  "Justice—" Benny began.

  "Why would Max have this in his room, under his bed, opened to this page, if it wasn't important?" Tristan said, cutting her off. "No way this is Elethan's plan. He couldn't have known we would come here and find it." He flipped through the book again. "It means something. Why not follow it? We have no other leads. It has stories of the Uprising in here, written like fairytales ... I'm pretty sure this is the book Max had when he was little. Remember that book? He loved the stupid thing." Tristan closed it, holding up the worn leather binding so I could see.

  "Still doesn't mean this is a real clue to anything or anywhere, Tris." I rubbed my forehead again.

  "Got any better ideas where to start?" His brows notched up.

  "Tris, listen—" Benny started.

  "I'm taking it with us." Tristan cut her off again and shoved the book into one of the empty leather weapon straps on his side, tightening it. "We can talk about it on the way."

  "Fine." I pushed away from the window. "We'll just walk in circles trying to find Tir na N'og. Nothing better to do."

  "Do you guys always argue so much?" Cara smiled up at me.

  23

  JUSTICE

  "If either of you would listen, I really think we're going to the wrong place." Benny jogged to keep up with Tristan and me in the Otherworld forest, Cara at her side. "We need to go to Mag Mell."

  "Never said we were going in the right direction," I said. "But how do you propose we go to Mag Mell?" I ducked underneath a low lying oak limb covered in snow. "The only way for the angels, any of us, to gain access into the Afterworld is if someone dies. We've been locked out for centuries."

  "Right, I know. But what happened to Ryan's body? After you killed him?"

  My shoulders tensed. "Max told me to leave him in the snow. I did." I kept walking, glancing at Cara.

  "And then what?" Benny kept my pace.

  "And then I went to bed! Do we have to talk about this in front of the ten year old? It was freaking late as hell, and Layla had just witnessed a murder, basically, sort of. I grabbed her and got the hell away from there."

  "I'm old enough to hear what you're saying." Cara ran up alongside me.

  "That's not what I mean anyway, Justice," Benny went on. "What happens when an angel dies?" She glanced toward Tristan, a pained expression creasing her eyes. "Sam told me a long time ago that you live by your oaths. He said if he died, he wanted to be buried like one of the Tuatha Dé, in the ground, he didn't want to go back home. I don't know why." Silent tears fell down her face. "Do you have an oath when it comes to your dead?"

  Tristan slowed down, putting an arm around her. "We take them back," he said in a whisper.

  My steps fell in time with my brother's. "It's been forever since one of us died. I've never done it, taken an angel back, neither has Tristan ... Sam ... always ..." I glanced over at Benny.

  She nodded. "Sam took Ryan back to the Afterworld. To Mag Mell." She wiped her face, and Tristan pulled her close. "There has to be a way for you and Tristan to go there, to the Afterworld. The Land of Eternal Youth isn't where Layla is, or where she's going. I don't know what that poem, or prediction, or whatever the saying in the old book meant, but she's not in Tir na N'og."

  "I thought you said you couldn't access people's minds when you take their form." I started walking again, and Cara stuck next to me. She was beginning to remind me of a stray puppy.

  "I can't," Benny said, hurrying to keep up.

  "So, why are you so convinced Layla is in Mag Mell? Benny, the Black Moon is ... tomorrow? If that book means anything at all. Which means we have no time to find Layla, if what the book says is right—who the hell knows, I don't even care at this point. Max could die or stay in a coma, and I don't really want to think about it!" I picked up more speed, wanting to spread my wings and take off but had no real idea where I might go.

  "Justice," Tristan shouted from behind me.

  I stopped and turned back. "What?"

  "Listen," he glanced at Benny. "Tir na N'og is the only place the book even mentions. Mag Mell isn't even in there, and we have to find Layla, like you said. Max needs her. The Land of Eternal Youth is the only clue we've really got as crazy as that sounds, and I know it's crazy. I agree with both of you, but why else would Max have been reading that passage? He knew something we don't." />
  "If you want to find Layla," Benny said, breaths heaving. "Then you both need to listen to me and stop ranting!"

  "Listening," Tristan and I said at the same time.

  "Justice, if what you're telling us is true and you think Layla chose to stay behind in the Shadows in order to get you out, Max out, all of us, then do you honestly believe she would walk willingly into Tir na N'og? Without Max?" She threw her hands up into the air. "It's the eternal land." Her light blonde eyebrows cinched. "Once you enter you can't leave." She released an unsteady breath. "Maybe Layla isn't herself like you say, and her former self, or other half of her soul, has deluded her mind. I don't know, but I know she loves Max, would move hell for him. She won't leave him. Not for good. She has a plan, and I'm sure she's playing to King Elethan, crazy or not. I know her. Better than anyone here. That's a promise." She exhaled again.

  "That's true," Cara said. "She does know Layla the best."

  "Thank you, Cara." Benny gave a quick, flat smile. "The King wants Mag Mell. Sam told me that. He wants to rule from the Afterworld with the Morrigan at his side. He needed Max to help him, an Ancient to open the Afterworld gates, and he wanted to free the Morrigan from Layla so they could rule together. With Max gone, the King needs Layla to open the gate. That's where they're going." Her hands went to her hips.

  My gaze went to Tristan and back again.

  "I don't know exactly how we'll pull off getting in," Benny went on. "But I've seen the Morrigan in Layla's eyes." She focused toward the ground. "I saw her that night in the alley outside the Pub. The angels are right about needing to kill her—but we need to get her out of Layla first. King Elethan had the right idea, I think. I also think the Morrigan's true form is trying to escape the Afterworld. I think she's trapped there and that's why she's using Layla ... to stay alive."

  "Seriously?" Tristan's brows rose.

  "Seriously." She nodded. "In the Realm of the Fae, we have our own stories and legends. Queen Asrai is terrified of the Morrigan, always has been. She wouldn't be afraid of someone who wasn't a threat, someone who doesn't still exist in some real form somewhere." She glanced toward me.

  "When we visited her, Queen Asrai," I said. "She told Layla to be safe on her journey. That she had no ill will with the fallen race, Ancient of this world or the world ... beyond ..." Benny was nodding as I glanced back at her. "Oh."

  "Yeah. Oh. The Morrigan isn't in this world, she's in the world beyond—the Afterworld. That's where we have to go. She's controlling Layla with the Raven, or bleeding into her thoughts at least, from the Afterworld. Queen Asrai must have seen that when you visited. She would never have let you leave otherwise."

  I let out a breath. So did Tristan.

  "All the stories say the Morrigan was crazy," Cara whispered.

  Benny nodded. "Sam told me Max was going to try to separate the Morrigan from Layla, not by killing her like the King wanted him to, but by physically attacking her during the Battle. That was the point, Max's point, to kill the Morrigan. Freeing everyone."

  I let out a low whistle. "Well, that explains a lot. The Morrigan brought Layla back from the dead. Makes sense if Layla's sustaining her. But why did Agrona have Layla slit her own throat? That makes no sense."

  "I don't know," Benny said. "But, if you'd stop acting like this is a one man, or two man, show, and let me help you, we'd get a lot closer to finding Layla."

  "You have my attention." I gave a half smile.

  "Mine, too." Tristan nudged her in the shoulder.

  She exhaled. "The only thing I've heard about the Afterworld, Mag Mell, is that it's the Ancient city in the clouds. Which means people like me, the Fae or non-Ancients, would have to find the trail that leads to the heavens. That's what the stories say."

  "Okay, so we look for a trail ... that leads into the clouds." I rolled my eyes.

  Benny shook her head. "You aren't listening, Justice. The Fomore will have to find the path, but you and Tristan have a free pass. All you need to do is to transport the dead to get into Mag Mell. We could beat them there."

  I glanced at Tristan. "I'm no genius, but I'm also not blind. You're dating this girl?"

  Tristan grinned the stupidest smile I'd ever seen. "Proudly."

  Benny's face turned blood red. "Anyway ..."

  "Who do you propose we kill to get into Mag Mell?" I smiled at her.

  She smiled back.

  "Oh, no. No, no, no, no. I am not taking Sam." I held my hands up. "Drawing the line there. You said he wanted to be buried in the Otherworld. I may hate him for what he's done, but he was my leader and my friend once. I'll honor his wishes even he didn't have honor himself. No." I crossed my arms over my chest.

  Her chin dropped. "I didn't mean Sam."

  "Oh. Sorry. Right ... of course you didn't. Benny, I—"

  "It's okay. Who else would you think of? It's fine." She nodded. "Really. I meant me. I want you to transport me."

  Tristan's eyebrows screwed up. So did mine. "Sorry?"

  "It'll be weird, and you don't have to do it," she said, glancing up at us. "Honestly, I'm not positive it'll work, but we could try."

  My head tipped back. "Spit it out, my god, just say whatever it is you're trying to say, already. You're making me crazy!"

  "Do you have any friends at all?" Benny smirked. "Like besides Max and your brother? Because you're hard to get along with."

  "I'm hard to get along with? Me? You speak in some kind of non-descriptive language that goes on and on. And to answer your question, yes, I have other friends. Layla is my friend."

  "You're her angel, her guardian, like me, it's not the same thing."

  "She's my friend before she's anything else. I'd do anything for her."

  Benny beamed. "Good. Just the answer I was looking for. I'm going to shift into Max, and you're going to transport my 'dead' body back to Mag Mell. Max isn't an angel, but he is of that world. It should work."

  I lost track of what Benny said after the words, I'm going to shift into Max, left her mouth.

  "That's sick, you know that, right?" Tristan stared at her like she was a mutant species. "Please, tell me you know that. Shifting into Layla was bad enough, but this—"

  "Is our only shot," I said, just as freaked out as my brother but Benny was right. It was the only chance we had.

  "I know I'm just a 'child' in your eyes, but you guys are forgetting about me." Cara smiled, standing tall but so small next to me. "Where do I fit into this plan?"

  "You don't," everyone said at the same time.

  24

  LAYLA

  I stared at the golden gates of the Ancient city of Mag Mell in the distance, memories hitting me like swift punches to the stomach. One memory spun around in my head the same way it had the first time I'd seen it in my thoughts, after Max had left me a note telling me it was over. When he'd chosen to go over to the Shadows to save me and my family. The memory hadn't seemed real when I'd woken up in my bedroom alone, but a dream.

  *****

  “Teine, come along now. We mustn’t dawdle.”

  “I’m not dawdling, Mother.” I pick at the embroidered flowers dotted randomly on the front of my sunshine yellow dress. The lace collar and trim make my skin itch. My neck must be bright red from scratching. I hate dressing up. Hate it more for the reason I’ve had to do it. Trying not to scuff up my finely made shoes, I hurry along behind my mother down the cobbled walk.

  Businesses line the winding streets. Everything from bright pink and red flowers to slabs of curing meat is displayed in hazy windows and along the sidewalks. Pushing wooden carts filled with woven baskets and baked breads, peddlers shout out their daily goods for sale.

  At the far end of the street, a castle looms over the town. Its stone steps seem to rise into the heavens as we approach. I shade my eyes from the blistering sun overhead, a trickle of sweat runs down my back, and I come to a stop and look up.

  “All right,” my mother says. “Now only speak when spoken to.” She straighte
ns the pleats running down the front of my dress and presses my hair flat on my head where it’s fastened with a silver barrette away from my face. Presenting a pair of pristine white gloves, she motions for me to hold out my hands. “Use your manners and smile.” She tugs the gloves on and hurries me up the steps. “Go on. You mustn’t be late.”

  I grudgingly climb the steps, and lift my dress in the proper way, so as not to trip. Glancing back over my shoulder, I see my mother motion impatiently for me to continue. Steeling myself, I lower my shoulders, raise my chin, fold my hands together, and proceed alone.

  Golden double doors glitter in the midday sun as I reach the top of the stairs, huffing and covered in sweat. Two guards dressed in white bow as I come near. They swing the doors wide. Over the open hall, a rounded, gilded ceiling soars, and row upon row of empty seats flank a long entryway. Sunlight bathes the smooth stone floor in yellow light through windows set high on the exterior walls. At the far end of the hall, two gold thrones rest side by side. A woman stands, the broad smile on her welcoming face easing my nerves slightly. I take a deep breath and entwine my white-gloved fingers. With my shoes clapping a steady rhythm against the hard floor, I continue toward her.

  Through the empty space separating the pews lining the hall, a rustling sound, like someone softly shuffling their feet, catches my attention, and I turn. Light grey eyes catch the sunlight and peek at me before disappearing behind the wooden seats. I stop and stare to my right as a boy with golden brown hair steps from behind one of the pillars supporting the castle’s tremendous weight. A tentative smile lifts the corner of his mouth. My fingers lose their entwined hold, arms hanging at my sides, and I stare at the most beautiful boy I have ever seen. His smile broadens, brightening his entire face.

  “MacCoinnich, meet Teine,” the Queen says from the throne.

  *****

  A churning heat spread through my body, warming me from the inside out, shaking off the biting cold as I stumbled on the mountain's ledge, the picture of Max's face swimming in my head.