Reliquary's Choice: Book Two of The Celtic Prophecy

by Melissa Macfie

  She stiffened, “Explain better.”

  “The one destined ta be priestess was gone and each member of the Coven had ta search to the ends o’ the land for signs. Aerten and Caer Ibormeith, the goddesses of fate and prophecy were consulted by the Vates’ augury. Potentials were identified.”

  “How many?”

  “In this time?”

  “In all times.”

  Cormac answered, “Thirty-two all together.”

  “Thirty-two. And in this time?”

  Alex found his voice, “Three.”

  “And their fates? Are they still alive?”

  “Aye.” Cormac answered.

  “But neither left unscathed.” Alex followed up.

  Brenawyn scoffed, “Do you condone such treatment?”

  “O’ course, I doona. How could ye ask such a question? That’s the reason I got involved with you. I couldnae abide their abuse o’ one more person.”

  “Enough. Ye may be interested in the little trick I learnt from the Oracle. She, an unwitting instructor, I ha’ nonetheless become her most apt pupil.”

  Scarlet sigils, lit up on Cormac’s arms, surprising Brenawyn. The markings covered his exposed forearms but were not connected like hers, her grandmother’s, or Alex’s. She didn’t know he had the ability. Who was this man?

  “Her craft o’ augury has intrigued me from the moment I first witnessed it.” He lifted his arms and spoke:

  Alexander Morgan Sinclair

  I claim what is yers, for my own

  I quiet yer speech so ye canna call out

  I silence yer tongue so ye canna plead for aid

  I dull yer mind so ye canna ken what is ta come.

  I say this three times, and done.

  Brenawyn could see the strained cords of Alex’s neck, and his jaw tense as he tried to swallow. Alex gasped for breath, his hands clutching at his throat, trying to pull an invisible bind away. Panic set in. She could see it in his eyes. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach. He was going to die again. She went to him, clueless as to what she could do to help.

  “Ah, doona try ta speak …  it will close yer windpipe all the further. I ha’ taken yer voice. Nothing else, I assure ye. Doona believe me? Try calling out ta her.”

  Alex screamed a noiseless warning. He could feel his vocal cords strain, his tendons stretch. He tried again. Nothing.

  “I want ye around, dae ye see, ta ken finally that thaur is nothing ye could dae ta save her. I want ye thaur when I strip her powers. I want ye ta see her torn open by the Oracle’s knife. I want ye ta see her writhe in pain, ta call out ta ye in her last. And then I want ye ta be thaur when I take her abilities, and finally ascend to godhood.”

  Brenawyn felt Maggie at her back trying to force something in her hand. From the length and weight, she had just given her the metal meat tenderizer as Alex held Cormac’s attention.

  Bones lengthened and reformed. Fur sprouted and ran along his spine. He looked out of feline eyes again when the shift was complete. Cormac stood transfixed.

  Timing it right, Alex’s leopard pounced as Brenawyn and Maggie lifted their weapons. Cormac somehow knew they were behind him, and he swung his body to meet Brenawyn, striking her across the cheek. He took the brunt of the mallet on his shoulder, sidestepping in time to avoid a fatal blow. Alex made contact, toppling Cormac to the ground. Jaws latched onto his vulnerable neck, teeth pressing in, the carotid artery so close, heart beat increasing, the odor of stale sweat and dry urine assaulted Alex’s nostrils.

  Alex felt Cormac’s enchantment fall when the heaviness in his chest lifted. Still as the leopard, his full senses rushed back. He could hear Brenawyn unfold herself from the heap rising up with an angelic smile across her bloodied face. She turned her attention to him, running her hand up the length of his black-furred back as he pinned Cormac to the ground. “Ah, I can see it, a beautiful thing, surrounding you. It looks so delicate …  so easily torn.” Brenawyn purred.

  Her sigils lit up, and an athame appeared in her hand, the same that had gutted Alex in Salem, her knife. The one she had said she didn’t want. Its blade glowed the same as her eyes. Leo must have must have enchanted it beforehand and secreted it to her.

  Alex knew what she was attempting to do, but did not know if she knew the ramifications. He tried to scream a warning to her but all that escaped his mouth was the chuff of the leopard. He couldn’t take the chance of losing his hold on Cormac in the seconds it took to shift. But, if Brenawyn was successful at tearing a hole in the veil she would be exposed, vulnerable to the rest of the Coven. He would be called back to the Hunting Grounds. The act no god could ignore. It would incense the Hunters, give the sluaghs his scent; it would begin, and he could not let the Wild Hunt through the rift. The level of destruction they would wreak would be like nothing this world had ever seen.

  “Enough,” she ripped at the air, a hiss, like the leaking air from a tire, so faint, could just be heard.

  In the distance the baying of dogs started. Leo bent down to grab a fistful of Cormac’s hair. Alex repositioned himself bracing four paws and putting his entire weight on Cormac to allow her to pick up his head so she could see recognition in his eyes. “Do you have anything left to say to us? The dogs have his scent now. It won’t be long until they come for him. Do you dare to be present when they do?”

  Cormac looked through the tear in the veil, and Alex imagined Cormac could see what he could. The shadows of the pack, incensed with the smell of prey, and the more ominous antlered one hanging back—the one of whom they all should be fearful.

  “This is not over between us, Shaman. Once I rip her powers from her, you will be next to follow her into the unknown. Fate be damned.” He sifted time and was gone.

  In the same moment, Alex found his voice and the magic dispersed allowing him freedom. He shifted and Maggie threw him the sweats she retrieved from his room.

  “What happened, Leoncha?”

  “Go, go, get clothes on. The bags are packed, grab them. Hurry. You need to go. Take her, and run. Before the Cernunnos comes for you.”

  Entering again a few minutes later, Alex was fully dressed with two packs slung over his shoulder. “The house, isna safe. They came. They willna stop now. Ye need ta leave too. The two o’ ye ‘afore the gods come. They willna be kind.”

  “We will take care.”

  “First, the rift needs ta be closed. It willna stop them from coming for me, but it will stop them from entering this realm. Brenawyn, give me the knife.”

  She gave it over, stepping closer interested in the proceedings. “Leo, teach her ta enchant the blade, please.

  Come here, Brenawyn. You need to isolate the healing sigils. The blue of your interlace only.”

  “Okay. How do I do that?”

  Alex interjected, “Dae ye remember what it felt like when ye healed me?”

  Brenawyn felt the blush creep up her neck, “Yes.”

  “Focus, lass. Dae ye need a demonstration?”

  “How?”

  He put her hand on his chest and localized his own sigils. The red defensive ones disappeared leaving only the blue. “Dae ye feel it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Isolate it in ye, then focus on that only.

  It took a few long seconds for Brenawyn to do this, and the effort was accompanied by frustrated mutterings, but only the blue shone after a time.

  “Good lass. Now, ye need to create the same motion ye used to open the veil ta close it, but in reverse. Imagine ye are trying to cut fabric with a knife.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Tell me, Brenawyn, what dae ye see?” Alex motioned to the rift. From his vantage point, he could see a section of the forest thickly covered in swirling fog. He knew what that fog felt like on his skin. Cold, damp, clinging. It distorted vision. In it, shadows moved, large impossible shadows that belonged to things not of this realm. What would she see? Could Brenawyn, if she were the priestess in truth, and no
t just by her word, see what no one else could? See what he could?

  “I see nothing.”

  “Ah,” he couldn’t keep the disappointment from his voice, “that’s good.”

  “But, if I take my eyes out of focus, there seems to be something … like a spark of light, shadows where they shouldn’t be, dim though, and it’s like … ”

  Alex grabbed her hand as she stretched her arm out to touch, “Ne’er go ta touch something ye see in the other realm, dae ye hear me?”

  Brenawyn shook her head, not understanding.

  “When ye are in this realm, and the veil is opened, if ye breach the divide inta the other, ye’ll be sucked in.”

  “Oh.” Brenawyn took two steps back clutching her arms to her chest. “I didn’t realize.”

  “T’is meant ta be alluring. This is whaur the auld stories come from o’ the fairie stealing children and maidens. Thaur are many things that lay beyond that are waiting.”

  “But you had said that nothing can hurt me in Tir-Na-Nog?”

  “Aye, that I did, and inasmuch as it is, t’is true; but this is no’ Tir-Na-Nog. These are the Hunting Grounds. Haur ye will see beasties that would gi’ the gods nightmares. Ye ha’ shades that canna remember their former lives, even enough ta ha’ a glimmer o’ pity or compassion. All that controls them is their hunger. Ye ne’er want ta go haur. E’er. I ken, ye see. Take me a’ my word. I ken o’ what I speak.”

  “Okay, Alex. I believe you.” Brenawyn took a firmer grip on the athame’s handle. “Tell me what to do.”

  “From yer left hip ye need to pierce the veil and follow it up to yer right shoulder.”

  As she was finishing repairing the tear a horn sounded from beyond the opening, otherworldly and dark, the sound made the fine hairs on her arms stand. She faltered in her last few inches, and Alex knew that she could see the steed with glowing red eyes approach at a gallop. The rider on its back ducked and twisted for entry but stopped short of the rift, staring at her, his eyes only for her. Tattoos covered the expanse of his chest and arms, and a great antlered helm of gold encrusted with precious stones covered his head, throwing what little could be seen of his face in deep shadow. He bowed his head to her. “Daughter.”

  The word was uttered as an invocation of recognition. Brenawyn shivered in response and doubled her efforts to close the rift.

  “Who the hell was that?”

  “That was Cernunnos,” Alex sighed. “We’ll meet him again soon, I ken.”

  Chapter 9

  The silence was deafening in the car. Guilt weighed on him. To tell her that that was the last time she’d see her grandmother and Maggie, and the dog too … but he couldn’t risk her resistance in leaving. He would bide with whatever the outcome, even if she hated him, as long as she was safe. After twenty-five miles he made a right onto Route 30 North. It was a straight run from here, though they were still an hour out.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Thaur,” he pointed to the first of the signs advertising the Howe Caverns.

  “Really?” Brenawyn turned to face him, “I haven’t been there in years. Have you ever been?”

  “Nay. No’ ta these caves.”

  “But, you’ve been to others? In Scotland or someplace else?”

  “I ha’ been ta Smoo Caves in Scotland most recently. Thaur were others much more vast and more beautiful, but doona tell a Scot that last bit, lass. Aye?”

  Brenawyn laughed. “I promise. I have been to Howe Caverns a couple of times because Nana lived up here obviously, but I’ve been to Crystal Caves in Pennsy more frequently. Liam … ” she stopped and looked out the window her anger rising. “Well, I think he liked to go there. I’d have to assume that he did. We went often.”

  Alex acknowledged her statement with a nod of his head hesitant to bring up anything related to that bastard, but he was splitting hairs. Their purposes were the same, just different methods to bring about the same end.

  “Why would he do that?” Brenawyn asked.

  He shrugged. “Maybe he just liked going thaur?”

  She gave him a withering look.

  “Aye, did he act peculiar when ye went?”

  “He’d insist that I touch the rocks as we passed them, even though you are expected not to. There are rules that are outlined by the tour guides there. I got all kinds of looks of displeasure, but rarely anything more than that.”

  Alex nodded, but gripped the wheel until his knuckles were white. He sensed that she needed to talk. She would need to before long. She needed to say it aloud, what she knew now to be true. Something about doing so was the moment of acceptance, an instant in time that she would speak the Truth and know it for herself. Brenawyn needed to admit the horrible things that bastard had done to her, but Alex was not pleased about hearing them.

  “He was always peculiar. Watching. Expecting. Anticipating. Ugh. Was I so naïve? I must have been. So easily tricked into believing he was in love with me. That he wanted me as much as I wanted him. God, he was so …  he had this … ” Brenawyn balled her fists and grunted. “Gravitational pull.” She looked sideways at him, “I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear this.”

  “T’is a’richt lass. Get it off yer chest.”

  Brenawyn clamped her lips shut, and looked down at her lap but continued, “Women would throw themselves at him. The first time I met him was in a class we took together. I had seen him around campus, I didn’t know his name, but he was a large man, hard to miss.” She nodded her head, smiling slightly. “Handsome. Lord, he was attractive. I was thrilled he happened to walk into my philosophy class, and further when he sat in the back of the room next to me. Every woman in the room took notice, especially these two sitting in front of us. The weeks went by, and the heels got higher, the skirts got skimpier. It was like they were going clubbing after our ten thirty class was dismissed at noon.” Brenawyn snickered, “Or to return to work their corner.”

  She looked out her window, her voice hardening, “One day, the twit who sat in front of me turned to him and asked if he wanted to get out of there. He looked at her, then at me, handing me the bag of chips we had been sharing, and got up to leave with her. Honestly, I thought that I’d missed my opportunity, but when I saw him next class, he behaved the same easy way.”

  “So why are ye telling me this, lass?”

  “The other girl never came back to class. At the time, I just took it as she had dropped, and I thought no more of her. Liam and I started dating soon after.”

  “Aye?”

  Brenawyn nodded, “Then it happened one day, the … the violence.”

  “Ah, dae ye want ta tell me about it then?”

  “I think that I need to. Do you mind terribly?”

  “Nay, Brenawyn, I doona mind.”

  “I was entering the building going to class and ran into a man I knew. He was the brother of someone I went to high school with. We talked for a few minutes in the atrium. You know, catching up. We hadn’t seen one another in years. I lost touch with his sister soon after we graduated. The conversation was innocent, but Liam was there waiting for me. He had to have heard the entire conversation. It wasn’t that big of an entrance, a couple of chairs, a folding table with pamphlets, and a potted plant.

  “I didn’t even see him coming. He grabbed me so hard it rocked my head back. Rich, that was the man’s name, tried to intervene, but Liam turned on him, and broke his nose. I remember thinking that there was so much blood, but Liam forced me out, dragging me. I stumbled a couple of times to the parking lot.”

  Alex looked at Brenawyn, her voice was strained, panicked, higher. He put the blinker on, moved over into the shoulder, and put the hazards on.

  She didn’t give notice but continued, “Falling to my knees, but he hoisted me up, picked me up in a fireman’s hold. No one even bothered to look up. There were people there! A lot of people!”

  Alex put the car in park and undid his seatbelt to turn to face her more full
y.

  “He slapped me. Hard. My eyes teared. I tasted blood. My cheek swelled immediately.”

  Alex reached for her hands, but Brenawyn pulled away.

  Brenawyn was shaking, “How did I allow that to happen?”

  “Brenawyn, lass.”

  “No, how could I have married him?”

  “It was the memory bindings.”

  “You mean to tell me that they are that good? They are that effective to make me forget that much?”

  “Aye. Nay. Only if t’was conjured by Oghma himself. Aye, he could ha’ done it.”

  “The same god that gave me back my memories? You took me to him. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Brenawyn, wait!”

  She batted away his hands, and fumbled with the door handle, sobbing.

  Alex leaned over her to grasp the door handle before she bolted. “Doona go, Brenawyn. Thaur was nay way for me ta ken that the bindings were made by him or the extent that they went. Please, believe me.”

  The fight went out of Brenawyn, and she looked at him. “Tell me how they work.”

  “At its base, each binding has a hallucinogen, likely psilocybin mushrooms. They are common enough. A spell is cast ta set the effects o’ the mushroom permanently or a’ least for a long-term, and ta leave the mind open for suggestions. Bacopa monnieri is used to decrease blood pressure, and spread calm as a simplistic memory is introduced. The mind has ta be a’ rest for the memory ta take, ken? Then rosemary is always used, as well as walnuts, and perhaps a certain kind of club moss.”

  “Walnuts, really?”

  “Aye, they are filled with a memory booster. I kin ye call it Omega-3 fatty acid.”

  Brenawyn looked at him, and shook her head incredulously. “Is there anything you don’t know?”

  “Aye, plenty, but about this, nay. I am the reliquary. All knowledge related to the Druids, their history, customs, spells, incantations, I ken. That is my office. The knowledge has been passed down ta me by those that came before.”

  “That explains me, but the memory bindings also affected Nana, and I guess some others too, because no one ever noticed anything was wrong, but maybe that was part of the bindings too. I’m getting confused.”