Reliquary's Choice: Book Two of The Celtic Prophecy

by Melissa Macfie

  “Please, you’re hurting me.”

  “Stop it, bitch!”

  “Please, you’ll hurt the baby!”

  “And if I do, it will be your fault. Now get in there!”

  He stepped on the toe of my worn out sock when he pivoted me around him. I stumbled and suddenly, I was free of Liam’s punishing grip. I reached out to the railing—

  Brenawyn opened her eyes despite the searing headache, heaved, and vomited on her grandmother’s kitchen floor. She shook from the exertion and the fragmented memory. The pounding started to lessen and she slumped boneless to the table, silently wracked by sobs.

  Gentle hands were rubbing her back; strong arms lifted her from the chair, over her mess and carried her into the dim living room to be wrapped in the crocheted afghan cuddled into the corner of the couch.

  Alex moved the coffee table and knelt in front of her. Her grandmother hovered nearby.

  “A chuisle, tell me, what are ye remembering?”

  Brenawyn clamped her lips shut and shook her head.

  “T’would be better if ye told us.”

  She shook her head again, tears spilling over, and wrapped her arms about herself, rocking back and forth.

  Alex sat next to her and tried to gather her in his arms. She stiffened. She didn’t want to be touched. How could it be possible? She had never been pregnant. How could she have been? She would remember. How could she forget? How could she know what it felt like? Doubt. Was this what insanity feels like? Her heart pounded in her chest. Her mind raced, screamed at her to run, to get away from him, from here. Her mind rebelled at what her gut was telling her was true. The memory of the living heaviness, both foreign and home simultaneously, the secret butterflies, and early movement almost undetectable, the pressure that almost tickled, only for the briefest of times. Secret shared moments between mother and child. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit something. She wanted to hurt. How could she forget! How could she forget?

  She felt Alex reposition himself and try to pull her close, offering comfort. He must have felt the change in her. She resisted. There was no comfort he could give her. She didn’t deserve any. She had forgotten about her child—her son. Her son! What—where was he? What had happened? But her gut told her she knew already.

  Leo finally, put her hand on his arm, “Let me.”

  Alex looked up at Leo, and back at Brenawyn, before making a move off the couch. At his movement she pulled further away from him, pressing herself awkwardly into the cushions shaking, her head coming to rest as she stared at the ceiling.

  “Go. Let us just sit awhile.”

  “We canna leave her like this, Leoncha. Two o’ the bindings are destroyed, but likely, the third is no’ haur. I ha’ ta bring her to Tir-Na-Nog for the goddess ta release her mind.”

  “You cannot do it here?”

  “Aye,” Alex paced away, but returning quickly, shaking his head. “Nay, I canna. I doona ken enough about the original spell ta safely remove the rest. I’d just as likely make her permanently daft.”

  “Then go and prepare.”

  Alex glanced back to see Brenawyn crumble into the arms of her grandmother.

  Chapter 5

  Before dawn Leo awoke in the living room next to the sleeping form of her granddaughter whose tear-streaked face was nuzzled into a crocheted baby blanket. Leo moved and her joints protested. A white hot pain shot up her neck behind her ear, quick movement remonstrated by her stiff neck. She ushered on, using it to fuel her anger. The second memory binding was found and destroyed and with it all peace of mind for her, and most of all for poor Brenawyn. A spell to wipe all memory of Brenawyn’s son. What was the fucking purpose? The only ones who could work such an intricate spell, one that would be so all encompassing, branching out to include multiple people, would be the gods whom she worshipped. Why? She was caught between Scylla and Charybdis, having no preferable options. She couldn’t leave Brenawyn as she was with one remaining binding out there. She’d go crazy, castigating herself for perceived shortcomings. She would never feel as if she was worthy of anything good, haunted by the half memories of forgetting about her child.

  How does a mother come back from that? She wouldn’t be able to offer any solace. Losing a child like she herself had was nothing like Brenawyn’s situation. Leo wanted to rant and rail at the gods; their manipulations an effrontery that could not, would not, be tolerated any longer! It would do no good though, with the last of the bindings out of reach, the only ones that could offer some release would be the gods. The destruction of the spell in total was the only way that Brenawyn could find some semblance of peace of mind. At least she would know the whole truth, and perhaps that, in some small, infinitesimal way, would offer release of guilt. Was that small hope enough to send Brenawyn away from all the support she had in Leo, Maggie, and even the dog, probably forever?

  She knew what Alexander would say. His purpose had been clear from the start. He needed Brenawyn, willing or not, to return as the living symbol of the Accords to be the arbiter of a more lasting peace between ancient forces. He had pledged himself to Brenawyn risking everything of himself, but he was still extrinsically motivated. Truth be told, Leo was angry at him too. He was the Shaman; he should be enough to hold the balance. After all he was the Reliquary, the physical embodiment of the entire history of the Druids. He had knowledge of what came before and some semblance of what would be. He could conduct himself as he saw fit to ensure that balance was maintained and harmony preserved. Leo ultimately didn’t care about him; she admired him, loved him perhaps, but he was not her own.

  She knew what she had to do, and it made her sick. For the sake of any hope, however slim, of Brenawyn’s state of mind, Leo would say goodbye to her granddaughter, and let Alex take her to the gods to restore her memories. From there, Brenawyn’s fate was completely out of her hands. Leo wouldn’t be there to offer her assistance or guidance, Brenawyn would be operating from within a nest of vipers. Would Alex’s guidance be enough to ward her away from becoming beholden to the gods? Would his lessons be enough to for her to hold her own burgeoning abilities? Would his protection be enough to quell the power play from the Coven?

  These questions remained unanswered.

  Brenawyn stirred on the couch, nuzzling in the blanket. Leo reached down and brushed the hair off her forehead, and she started at the sudden touch. Leo smiled, “When you are ready, I want you to meet me in the back.”

  Brenawyn sniffled and moved to sit up, tucking the afghan under her arms, and nodded.

  A half hour later in the backyard, Leo heard Brenawyn approach, and turned to greet her with a smile. “Take the knife and cut a branch from the holly, apple, and willow, Pussy Cat.”

  Brenawyn stepped into the circle, a small sad smile on her lips “It’s more beautiful than I remembered.” She crossed the grove, placed a kiss on her grandmother’s cheek, and did as she was instructed. Leo sat on her knees in the middle of the circle adding the contents of her pocket to the ceramic basin. She was careful to shred the birch bark into pieces over the elm and oak so the sparks would be sure to catch. A mindless task, perfect to ready herself for meditation.

  She was showering the collection with sparks from the flint when Brenawyn knelt down, her hands full of the branches she had been assigned to get. “Take the leaves off each branch but keep them separate. I’ll tell you when to add them.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier just to use a match?”

  “Easier, yes, but it wouldn’t meet the same results. Be patient.”

  A fire slowly caught with the added measure of lightly blowing on the pile. “There. A fire.” Pleased with herself, Leo sat back and stared at Brenawyn. She had her lips upturned at the corner showing amusement at the situation but she sat patiently, meeting Leo’s eyes and looking away intermittently.

  Leo sighed. “Lesson three, or perhaps its four. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. The trees. The trees around you are each significant to the Druid religion.
I have burning here,” indicating with a swish of her hand, “birch, elm, and oak, all of which represent strength in some way. This is my contribution to the workings of the meditation spell.” She scooched over and touched the apple branch which was devoid of leaves, “The branch from the apple tree.”

  “It means knowledge.”

  “The fruit, yes, but the branch means more: youth, beauty, happiness, immortality. It’s the immortality that we want here, the immortality of faith. Even if there is only one person who believes, doctrine lives on.”

  Leo moved to touch the next pile. “The willow represents healing and magic. I know you don’t believe in magic … ”

  “There is no such thing,” Brenawyn cut in.

  “Well, think of it as miracles instead,” Leo replied patiently. “Miracles or magic happen all around us, sometimes it takes a careful eye to pick them out. Bad things happen also, but that does not mean there is no such thing as a miracle. You can call it magic that you weren’t hurt by your attacker, or you can call it a miracle. Was it magic or a miracle that your pup lived after being stabbed?”

  “What was it when I lost my child?” Tears spilled, “that I so easily forgot his existence?”

  “Brenawyn … ” Leo was at a loss of words. Nothing she knew could ease her pain.

  But it was Brenawyn who spoke next, “But I guess you’re right. So, what’s the last represent?”

  “Then finally, we have the holly branch. The leaves are hard and spined. It represents a warrior, but of the spiritual kind. Put them in the fire, starting with the apple, then holly, followed up by the willow. That’s it,” she added as Brenawyn carefully placed the branches on the fire. “All right, once you get the hang of it, you won’t need the words, but for now you can use mine. Repeat after me.

  “I come in search of peace.”

  “I come in search of peace,” Brenawyn repeated each line after her grandmother.

  “In the name of the Crone, who guides my wisdom.

  “In the name of the Mother, who gave me birth.

  “In the name of the Maiden who will cherish me.

  “I seek the passion of the Lady.

  “I seek the wisdom of the Lady.

  “I seek the magic of the Lady.

  “I seek the blessings of the Lady.

  “With the grace of three granted

  “Let me find peace.”

  “Let me find peace,” Brenawyn sobbed. The comforting silence enveloped Brenawyn and Leo, blocking the extraneous noises from the surrounding wood. Leo could see the shock on Brenawyn’s face as the veil closed around her. She swung her head to scan the trees, saw the birds still there, the squirrels skittering up one tree and down the next but no sound came from it. She turned to Leo, who sat patiently waiting for Brenawyn to settle her thoughts.

  It was a shock the first time, Leo knew. Once it grew comfortable, the purpose of the meditation spell became obvious, it blocked all distraction. Except questions looked as if they would spill from Brenawyn’s lips, but with a shake of her head, Leo closed her eyes and hopefully put to rest any question that would bubble over. She sat that way for a time, relishing the silence. She let the general worries of life fade away. Uncertainties about the shop and financial matters, they always seemed to work themselves out. The deeper concerns were harder to let go, such as mourning for Thomas. She always thought she would go first. How would he have handled things? And then Margaret. A mother shouldn’t outlive her children.

  They were both gone, too long now.

  Then there was Brenawyn. Gods, how was she to help her? Losing her parents, her baby, even her husband—that bastard. Having every belief she had turned upside down, having her faith tested, shattered. Uncertainty twisted its way in to her thoughts. Why was she doing this again? She should take Brenawyn and run. Stay hidden, though where would they go? The anonymity of a city? New Orleans. Hiding in plain sight again, but there was so much power in that city. Alex was right, she wasn’t strong enough to fend off attacks and she wouldn’t even know they were coming, in the midst of all that raw power.

  “Brenawyn is vulnerable, with powers just coming to light now, she can be manipulated and honed as a weapon or stripped of them completely and probably killed like Barbara,” Leo thought.

  It was this last thought that solidified her resolve.

  She long since had memorized Brenawyn’s face. She missed those long years watching the subtle changes, as she grew from the chubby roundness of the infant to the emergence of her personality as a toddler to the bones growing in adolescence to reveal the lines of what she would look like as an adult. Damn her stubborn father. Too many years wasted.

  But that was the past. The question was what to do in the present. Perhaps she should drive Brenawyn away, let Alexander protect her. He would, with his very life, she knew. Brenawyn would have to believe her. God, she’d seen enough to believe already, but still she clung to her rational world, trying as hard as she could to ignore the magic all around her. If Alex shifting from wolf to man and back again in front of her in Salem wasn’t enough, if assisting in bringing him back to life him back to life wasn’t enough. What would it take? Brenawyn had enough proof.

  Yes, Leo would start as soon as the meditation was over. Yes, that’s it. I’ll explain the whole truth to her. After I do, there will be no turning back. Of course, that meant that Brenawyn would have to leave. She’d have to talk to Alex first, find out his plans. Did he want to do the rite here? There were the falls not too far off, though water underground was preferable. The nearby caverns were perfect, but an impossibility. They were locked up tight after hours. Perhaps, he’d want to travel to Scotland; she could go with them if that were the case. Spend some more time with Bren before …

  Leo studied Brenawyn. The sweep of her lashes lay against her flushed cheeks covering bright eyes alive with activity, a slight smile played on her lips. Brenawyn smiled more fully at the light breeze and with a sigh crumpled to the ground, runes glowing lightly under her skin. Leo was at her side instantly; turning her over she found pulse and heartbeat strong, counter-indicating a faint. What was wrong?

  “Brenawyn, honey. Wake up. Please.” No response.

  Should she leave to go get help? Did Brenawyn have her cell phone? Rummaging in her granddaughter’s pockets revealed the small device. No reception. She threw it on the ground and took Brenawyn by the arms and shook her. “Wake up. I can’t carry you back and I don’t what to leave you alone.”

  A voice boomed out, “Doona try ta wake her.”

  Turning, she saw Alexander at the far perimeter of the circle. “You scared me.” Leo looked at the surrounding landscape; even though it was only the eve of summer, a thick blanket of dried foliage covered the ground, “I didn’t hear you.” Looking down, “Help me carry her to the house.”

  Alexander approached to take a knee by Brenawyn’s head, “Nay. She canna be moved. T’would cause too much disorientation. Best ta wait haur.” Alex sat down in the grass and answered the look on Leo’s face. “Yer granddaughter has crossed over.”

  “What? To Tir-Na-Nog? Impossible. That takes years of training. Even I have never been able to do it.”

  “Leo, dae we ha’ ta ha’ this conversation again?”

  “Yes, damn it. Damn you. Yes, we do.”

  Sighing, he began, “Ye are a devote practitioner and ye ha’ developed yer abilities ta be a formidable threat if necessary, but those abilities …  I’m sairy, but those abilities are limited. They fall short o’ being able ta cross realms.”

  Leo sighed and wiped her eyes. “Then you’ll go? Go to her? You’ll take her now?”

  “Aye. I will. And when we get back … ”

  “Everything will be different.”

  “Leoncha. I want ye ta go ta the house. Find Maggie if ye can ta help ye. When Brenawyn is free o’ the last binding, the memories will come flooding back.”

  “Yes, I’ll be here waiting for her. I’ll be prepared.”
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  “Nay, ye doona kin what that will mean for ye. Her memory and yers are tied. Ye had nay recollection o’ the bairn she carried. That’s why I wouldna try ta undo it. Ken? Normally, the focus o’ the bindings is only one. This one, howe’er, is nothing like I ha’ e’er seen. Only the God of Memory could ha’ weaved it.”

  “I surmised as much, but to what end?”

  “Ha’ ye e’er been able ta ken why the gods act as they do, woman? I ha’ been on this earth far longer than ye, and I ha’ nay clue. They use us; manipulate us like pawns on a chess board for their own amusement.”

  Leo looked at Brenawyn’s prone body for a long moment, “Do you trust Oghma that far?”

  “Trust one o’ the Sidhe at yer own peril, but with this, aye, I’ll ha’ ta.”

  Leo took a long intake of breath, and whispered, “Then go.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The warm breeze welcomed him to Tir-Na-Nog. Alex looked around expectantly for Brenawyn, but was met only by the lonely expanse of the plain before the forest. Before he turned to break the connection, to traverse the rift again in reverse to return to the world where Brenawyn, just a lovely woman, waited, he saw a flutter of purple by the tree line. Brenawyn was looking up into the treetops. She reached out to touch and everything stopped, frozen in place. He gained her position and she looked at him questioningly. “What is this place?”

  “T’is called Tir-Na-Nog.”

  “Tir-Na-Nog.” She tried the pronunciation on her lips. “I have been here before.”

  He nodded, but said nothing. He could feel the weight of her stare but he refused to meet her eyes. “We ha’ a ways ta travel. Ye can ask questions on the way.”

  Alex walked in silence, letting Brenawyn take it all in. He remembered his first time here, though this would be her second? Well, regardless, this was the first time she knew where she was—overwhelming to say the least. The blades of grass caressed her legs as they passed. Curious, she reached down and sure enough, the blades swayed against her hands. She touched a tree and the bark undulated, surprising her. “What?”