TRUE (A Fire Born Novel Book 3)

by Laney McMann

  "I think this is as far as we'll get to the pathway into the clouds without possibly meeting up with Elethan. Assuming Benny is right." I glanced at Cara again, and then toward the highest peak of the mountain ahead, the crisp, clean air filling my lungs.

  "I'm right." Benny stepped forward in Max's form, her small voice escaping his lips, still unnerving me.

  Tristan remained silent beside her, not having said much more than the occasional, 'Oh, god,' a few times during our hike up the mountain.

  "So ... I'm not really sure what I'm doing," I said, eyeing Benny. "You're just going to pretend to pass out, and I'm supposed to carry you?"

  "I think 'we' are supposed to carry her, him, her, whatever." Tristan threw his hands up and moved to stand on the other side of Benny, jaw clenched. "We just think about where we need to go, like always, and traverse into the Afterworld. It shouldn't be that hard to do if Sam just did it with Ryan. After the Battle, the land of the dead will surely be expecting new arrivals."

  "Nice, Tris. Really. Great visual I didn't need." I put a hand on Benny's shoulder. "Close your eyes and fall down or whatever."

  "Fall down?" She eyed me.

  Tristan laughed and put his hand on her other shoulder. "Just remember you're taller than both of us, so you know, don't ... throw all your weight into it." His expression assured me he would rather have walked through Hades itself than be attempting to smuggle his new girlfriend, disguised as a dead Ancient God into Mag Mell to meet up with the Morrigan.

  "On three," I said, gripping Benny's waist. Tristan glared.

  "Really, dude? I'm gripping Max's waist, not your girl's waist."

  "Fine, whatever, just go." He grabbed her waist from the other side and all at once Benny's entire body went slack. An 'oof' escaped my throat as the unexpected weight fell backward. "She didn't say she was going to be unconscious." I struggled to keep her upright.

  "She's supposed to be dead." Tristan supported her head. "Dead doesn't work if you're awake."

  "Right." I broke out in a sweat. "Damn, she's heavy."

  "He's heavy, Max is heavy." Tristan snapped, struggling as much as I was. "Maybe we should have told her to go stiff like a board instead of noodle-droopy. I can't get a hold of her the right way."

  "Just ... let's clasp hands under her legs, at her knees, and support her back. That way she'll be in a sitting position." I reached for Tristan's hand, grasping his with mine, and we managed to get Max's body in a semi-sitting position.

  "We're supposed to spin out like this?" Tristan's face screwed up. "We're going to lose her in the gap between worlds."

  "No, we won't," I argued.

  "Layla got trapped there once."

  "When she didn't know what the hell she was doing or who she was." I eased our connected arms closer under Benny's thighs.

  "We don't know what we're doing either!"

  "Benny is a Fae, Tris, or did you forget? You're the one dating her. She isn't getting trapped anywhere unless she's getting shanked with a steel bar." My hands turned sweaty.

  "Whatever, dude. Let's just do this and get it over with."

  "God, I did not miss working with you while you were sick. Glad you're better, but you are such a pain in the ass sometimes."

  "I'm a pain in the ass?" Tristan squeezed my hand. Hard.

  "Ow, asshole. And, yes, you are."

  "Wait ... where's Cara?" Tristan turned his head from side to side.

  "What?" I tried to turn around, but Tristan and I were at odds with Benny's weight.

  "She was just standing there a second ago." His hand slipped in mine.

  "I know that!" I yanked on Tristan's arm, making him do a semi-circle. "Cara!" No one called back. The woods were deserted. "Cara! Dammit.” I glared at my brother. “If you weren't always arguing with me."

  "Me? If I wasn't always arguing with you?"

  "That's what I said." I eyed him. "Now what do we do?" I re-gripped my sweaty hand with his.

  "Do you think she went back to the Otherworld? It's not like someone took her. There's no one here. And she couldn't come with us anyway."

  "Do I think she went back to the Otherworld?" I stared at him. "Hell, no. Dammit. What the hell am I going to tell the Queen? She'll kill me if anything happens to Cara." I shook my head, and a light bulb went off. "That little ... she said she was the fastest at traversing."

  "And?"

  "And if she's anything at all like Layla, she's going to try to get there first." I shifted my weight, supporting Benny's. Max’s. Whoever’s.

  "She wouldn't."

  "Yeah, she would. Either way, we have to take our chances. How long is Benny going to stay like this?"

  "No idea."

  "On three then, and pray to the true Ancients this works and all of us don't end up dead."

  Tristan nodded, squeezing Benny tighter. "One, two, go!"

  28

  LAYLA

  Someone tugged on my sleeve, and my head whipped to the side and down. "Cara? What the ... what are you doing here?" I hissed.

  Her green eyes rolled upward. "Saving you," she whispered.

  "What? No. How did you find me?" I glanced toward the golden gates looming ahead, a beacon calling me from another world, back to Elethan, who had disappeared within the crowd, his charcoal robes merging with others, and toward the Fomorian guards hovering around, likely waiting for a signal to enter the Afterworld. I hoped the ones hovering near me didn't know Cara had been released from the castle days ago and took nothing of her being in our midst.

  "It's not hard to find the path to the clouds if you know where to look," she said. "It's in all the fairytales. Well, they aren't really tales."

  Tearing my gaze away from the gates, I grabbed her arm, hurrying her to the edge of the procession on the narrow path. "You have to go home, Cara. You can't be here. The King will see you."

  She crossed her arms over her chest, eyeing me. "You can't make me. If you don't want my help, then Justice will when he gets here. He'll get in trouble if he doesn't bring me home safe, anyway."

  "Justice? What do you mean when Justice gets here?"

  "He's coming. Tristan and Benny, too. Well, sort of Benny, not really Benny, Benny, but—"

  "Cara, you have to leave. Please. I'm not kidding. I can't protect you and deal with the Morrigan and Elethan at the same time. I already got you out of this situation once. Okay?" I pleaded with her. "Please go home."

  "Your eyes are still two different colors," she said, her own green eyes narrowing. "Like they were when you got me out of the Shadow Realm a couple days ago."

  "Yeah." I glanced toward the guards again. None of them paid us any attention.

  "The real Teine is in there with you, isn't she? The first one, born a long time ago."

  My focus swung back. "What?"

  "I heard Grandmother talking to Justice about it earlier. I wasn't sure what she meant. I didn't understand before, why they looked like that, your eyes, when I saw you in the Shadow Realm, or what Grandmother meant, but ... she's in there, Teine, the first Teine, in your body with you, isn't she?"

  I swallowed hard. Teine could hurt Cara, just like she'd hurt Max, if I didn't stay focused, in complete control. "Yes, she is, and ... that's ... it's—" I prayed she could put one and two together without me having to explain how important it was she didn't say the wrong thing. "Cara, she can hear you, like I can. The first Teine can hear you." I lifted a brow. "Right now."

  "Oh." Her eyes widened in what I prayed indicated understanding.

  I nodded. "You should go home. Aunt Flidais will be worried. She needs you. Please. For me. Go home."

  "Okay." She took a step back away from me, her brown, snow covered boots sloshing, and hesitated, staring up at my blue eye, only the blue one. "I'll go home, but you remember, I might not be able to see you in there, first Teine, but this Teine is my cousin. I guess that makes you my cousin, too, but Max is hers now. And if you hurt him again, I'll find a way to get to you, and then I'll hu
rt you." She turned on her heel and vanished, leaving me with my jaw dropped open.

  The procession started moving again. King Elethan shouted orders over the ruckus, and my shoulders were grabbed from behind, and I was hoisted through the crowd to stand at the King's side in the front of the column at the base of Mag Mell's gates.

  "If you would do the honors, Princess." He gestured toward a large keyhole on the golden metal. "The Morrigan and all of the Afterworld await us."

  With a tentative nod, I placed my hand on the gates, my palm over the keyhole, and something deep and dormant inside me woke up. An involuntary grin tugged at my lips, and Irish words spilled from my mouth.

  "For only the Fire Born true

  May the cloud gates open

  Only the Ancient ones

  By Ogham Etchings, branded,

  May enter the City of Gods, their Mag Mell."

  I glanced over at Elethan, at the giddy smile on his face, and the gate creaked as if it hadn't been opened in many millennia. A debilitating fear radiated across my shoulders, sending chills up my spine, and froze my body where I stood.

  29

  JUSTICE

  "Seriously?" Benny, or Max, or who the hell ever, lay at my and Tristan's feet, out cold, at the base of a crumbling piece of shit castle. A castle I remembered as if out of a nightmare. Only it wasn't a nightmare, it was a very real, terrible memory. The last time I'd been in Mag Mell, the beautiful city in the clouds had fallen to the Morrigan's wrath and everyone had died. Everyone I'd been sworn to protect. Layla, or Teine, the first Teine—who seemed like a stranger to me when she'd glared out of Layla's one blue eye in the Shadow Realm—hated me. I knew she did. As much as I'd missed her, mourned for her after she died at such a young age, she still hated me—and she had every right. I hadn't done enough to save her. None of the angels had.

  When the city began to fall, we'd rushed to the royal chambers, and as if losing MacCoinnich's parents, the King and Queen of Mag Mell, hadn't been horrific enough, we'd lost their child and his betrothed, too. The Aethereal ones. The memory was too real, too close, as I stood at the base of the city steps, a place I knew better than any. Tristan stood at my side in silence, a forlorn expression on his face, staring toward our home, destroyed for nothing. Because of greed and jealousy.

  In the distance, the golden doors that were once proud and majestic, leading into the grand hall, were broken and ajar. A taunting reminder of what had occurred inside when I'd screamed, hovering above the scene, unable to do anything as MacCoinnich and Teine were crushed under the toppling, burning rubble. Mag Mell had fallen into chaos afterward—townspeople fleeing for their lives as the streets burned, consumed with smoke, Gods fighting amongst themselves, quickly taking sides, and the angels cursed by the Crone as we tried to do right by everyone, protect those who were true to the Ancient race.

  Some had paid the ultimate price—dying before they'd even escaped the city. While others, like Ryan, lived century upon century enduring a prolonged and painful death. There were many times I'd wondered how Tristan and I had escaped the worst of the curse for as long as we had. I'd stopped wondering when Tristan had gotten sick. None of us were untouchable as I'd hoped, even believed at one point—not even the angels who were closest to the Fire Born God and Goddess children they'd lost. Staring up at the ruins, I realized we'd come full circle.

  I adjusted the sleeves of my cloak, spots of blood oozing through the dark fabric and sticking to my skin, and glanced at Tristan. He crouched down next to Benny, who had thankfully transformed back into her usual self. White blonde hair and bright blue eyes, she grinned up, and threw her arms around Tristan's neck. He returned the motion.

  "You're okay?" he asked, his voice muffled. "That really, really sucked."

  With a laugh, Benny pushed to her feet. "It did, actually. I'm okay, though. We made it. That's all that matters."

  "We made it, now what?" The place was deserted, no sign of Max or Layla, the Morrigan or Cara anywhere. A chilling silence lay on everything and reminded me of The City of The Dead in the Otherworld forest. A place where too many years had passed and all the goodness and history had died along with it. Mag Mell would never be what it once was.

  "So this is it." Benny glanced around, brushing dirt off of her clothes. "I didn't really believe it existed. We all hear the stories, but ..." She shrugged. "It's beautiful."

  Tristan held her hand, standing beside her. "It used to be."

  "It still is. You just have to see it in the right way." She smiled, tears welling in her eyes. "You really are an angel. This is your home."

  Tristan gazed down at her. "Yeah."

  "Okay ... so, yeah." I clapped my hands together. "We just traversed into a dilapidated ruin. There's nothing beautiful about it. It smells a lot like death, actually, and we have no plan."

  "Walk the grounds?" Benny asked. "I'd like to see it, ruined or not. This is the place of legends."

  Tristan pulled her close. "We can walk around, but quietly. We aren't alone, no matter how silent it may be." He glanced toward me. "The Morrigan is here."

  "I feel her, too." He had no idea how deeply I felt her, slicing away at my skin, the oozing sores growing on my arms and legs, the searing ache in my head. She was close, and all bets said she knew where we were.

  "Benny," I said, taking a cautious step through the rubble with her and Tristan behind me. "Besides the shape-shifter, smoke and mirrors thing you have going, what else can the Fae really do? Because your chance to leave is now." I gave her a grim smile. "No one will hold it against you. You've never come face to face with the Morrigan. I'm not making any promises on who makes it out of here."

  "I'll be fine. Layla is as much my responsibility as she is yours."

  "You're sure." Tristan came to a stop beside her. "Justice is right. You have no idea what we might face."

  "It's a little late for asking me if I'm sure." Benny crossed her arms over her chest. "And neither of you know what I can do, so stop patronizing me. You wouldn't be here at all if it weren't for me." Her eyes grew dark and shifted from blue to deep yellow, and I would've sworn the pupils were slit like a cat’s, something I'd thought I'd seen once before in the alley outside The Pub. "Okay?"

  I lifted my hands up, palms out in surrender. Tristan did the same with a stupid, bright smile.

  "Okay," he said. "I guess you're every much one of the Fae as I am an angel."

  "I thought you already knew that," she snapped, walking forward, leaving the two of us behind.

  Tristan rolled his eyes at me like I was to blame for getting him in an argument with his girlfriend. "I do know that, Ben," he said, catching up to her. "Just never seen your eyes do that before, is all I meant. It's sexy."

  She glanced toward him, her face blood-red, eyes narrowed. "Sexy?" Bright yellow wings flashed at her shoulder blades and vanished, something else I'd witnessed before—and if I remembered correctly, was not a good sign.

  I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Can we ... you know, not do this right now, please?" I gestured toward our beat up surroundings. "Kinda not the best time. We need to find Layla and Cara." A sharp bite radiated through the base of my skull, a million blinding cuts opened across the surface of my flesh, and I dropped to my knees, seeing double.

  "Justice!" Tristan was by my side in less than a second.

  "I can't see." Black spots blotted the recesses of my vision, blood oozed from the gashes on my body, and all at once, that quick, she was killing me. From somewhere inside the piece of shit castle, the Morrigan was destroying me from the inside out, cutting away at me.

  "You dare come into this holy place, Fallen one? With the aim to harm me?" Her voice echoed inside my head.

  I couldn't answer, could barely focus. Tristan's voice battled for my attention, the tips of his shoes blurred in and out as I sprawled out on hands and knees, facing the ground.

  "No one is to come without invitation into my world. I know you did not forget the last time we spoke of t
his, when I severed your wings and left you with those of a bat in their place." Her voice grew louder, sharper, overwhelming Tristan's shouts. "Do the horns that cut through your scalp not remind you of what you truly are now? What I have made of you? The talons ripping through your fingers? Answer me, Gargoyle!"

  "Angels have every right ... to be here," I managed to say. "You have ... no right."

  An invisible blow to the gut erased all my oxygen, sent blood spewing from my mouth, and wiped my thoughts clear.

  "Angels no longer exist, only mutants."

  Another blow, this time to the head, and I was gone. Tristan's screams, the last sounds I heard, faded to silence.

  30

  TRISTAN

  "Justice!" On hands and knees, I crouched over my brother. Blood leached from sores and cuts, seeping through his jeans—spots of red discoloring the denim. The sleeves on the cloak he'd borrowed from Max's closet exposed his bare arms, covered in pus and blood. I recognized the lesions—only a few days ago, I'd been plagued with the same ones, killing me swiftly, easily, painfully.

  Benny's hands moved across Justice's body, roving inch by inch, her palms tainted crimson, her form flickering in and out in bright flashes of yellow light, Fairie wings, blinding me in contrast to the dark hue that hung over the Afterworld like a shroud.

  "It's not working." Benny's hands shifted across Justice's body, and a wracking tremble took hold of me.

  My breath punched free of my lungs.

  "It is a sin to have relations with the Fae, mutant," the Morrigan shouted in my head, a voice I could have lived a million lifetimes and still recognized instantly. "Further a sin to have her heal you. You are my gargoyle! Mine!"

  My heart exploded like a thousand knives had been thrust into my chest all at once. Blood covered my shirt, my hands, as I reached for my chest.

  Benny screamed.

  "No one heals you but me."

  I stumbled backward.