Ripples. He splashed at the surface to obliterate his reflection. Here was where her fate was sealed. Nimue herself had seen to it, manipulated the events to make it seem as if it was Brenawyn’s choice; but it never was. Nimue pressed her into servitude, made it necessary for her to leave her family behind; but he was the one who started her on the path. He brought her here. He shouldered the blame and the responsibility.
Alex was a sheep following his gods, being led by those same shepherds in the direction they chose: left at the crofter’s cottage, across the glen, right to travel along the fence, and then off the cliff to his eternal damnation.
He had damned her to the same fate; but he would do it all over again. He was weak. He wanted her. He needed her. He loved her…and that he couldn’t forgive himself for.
Alex surged to his feet and stalked to Cernunnos demanding, “Gi’ me yer leave ta retur…” he paused. Deciding, he drew himself up to his full height and stepped closer to the god, fists clenched at his side. “Fuck! I am going whether ye wish it or no’.”
Before Cernunnos could answer, he pivoted and strode away ripping open a passage to the mortal realm. He stepped through, not bothering to close it behind him.
~ ~ ~
His bones were lengthening and changing shape as he stepped through the veil. He paused just outside for the the familiar and painful breaking of his legs to form the structure of the wolf’s hock completing the hind legs. He stifled his scream. It was agonizing pain for a brief moment, and then it lessened, became bearable with the accelerated knitting of new bone. He dropped to all fours, and shook, aiding the emergence of his pelt.
He squirmed out of his clothes, and turned to dig a hole in the soft loam. He dragged his clothes in, covering them with dirt, tramping on it the best he could in this form, and urinated on the spot. He couldn’t take his clothes with him, and to have them found would draw unneeded suspicion. Wolf urine would keep the most inquisitive animals away as they smelled a predator, and in his experience what animals shied away from, humans generally did the same.
Alex and the Wolf both recognized the rolling hills by his brother’s Keep. It wasn’t in sight and that was just as well. He dismissed a pang of homesickness, he’d have liked to see Willie again, but he wasn’t coming home. He wished he had questioned Amergin more to ascertain where along the route the company was. The Wolf’s senses would have to do to pick up their scent. Two dozen horses and riders wouldn’t be hard to find in an area that seldom saw a traveling pair.
He turned, hearing a wheezing breath behind him to find Amergin picking his way through the opening.
“Ye ha’ a set o’ stones on ye, boy!” He let out a guffaw that bent him over, hands on his knees, wheezing to catch his breath. “Ye should ha’ seen his face. He didnae conceive ye would e’er be so brazen. Ye took him by surprise. Ye’ll ha’ ta deal with that sooner or later.” He looked at the Wolf over his shoulder, and sighed. “Later…ye can deal with that later.”
He straightened, putting most of his weight on the walking stick, stretching his back. “Ooof, I am getting too old for this.” He closed the passageway. “Neednae ha’ anything else ta worry about slipping through.” He rubbed his hands together then unbuttoned his cloak and folded it over his arm. He snickered, looking toward the disturbed ground. “Ne’er did figure out what ta dae with yer trews? Good, ye deserve it. Dae ye ken that Mistress Fordoun still yammers on about yer penchant for losing yer clothes?”
Alex heard, but Amergin didn’t need him to reply, so he sat and sighed, which came out as a very dog-like whine. When Amergin got underway it was across the glen, not the road as Alex had thought. They reached the tree line and Amergin balled up his cloak and pressed it into the base of the nearest oak. He divested himself of the rest of his garments until he stood naked as a babe. Gooseflesh covered his crepe skin. His back was to Alex, who could see the toll the centuries had exacted from this man. The crooked posture, the hunched back, made his knobbed spine more pronounced. He could count the vertebrae and ribs. His spindly legs shook from the mild exertion. Alex’s canine senses identified him as sickly, weak…vulnerable to attack.
“Come, travel will be verra much quicker if we take the way of the hawk.”
Alex was glad Amergin didn’t turn around to face him because he imagined he’d see more of the ravages of time. He was also glad that he had shifted prior to Amergin’s arrival. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep his pity in check. He shifted and felt his bones hollow and feathers sprout. He took to wing beside his mentor, screeching into the morning’s sky, in part to mourn the years this man had lost.
They found the party not long after. Circling in the air, Alex was confused. Now back in the mortal realm he felt the imminent approach of the fire feast as if the very earth paused before exhaling. As one of her creatures he was more attuned; she was waiting, anticipating…he could almost hear her heartbeat. The party should have been rounding out their journey, but they were days out still.
Something was wrong.
He descended to perch on a tree branch on the outskirts of their camp still under the guise of the hawk. Amergin landed further back. The camp was eerily quiet. The requisite men guarded it and those around the campfire were armed, swords drawn and lying within reach. There was no sign of Brenawyn.
Amergin, fully clothed in the same garments he had left folded under the oak, walked underneath the tree in which Alex was perched. He looked up and signaled for him to stay put.
From his vantage point he had a wide view of the entire site. Amergin walked up, making more noise than necessary. It was purposeful on his part, not wanting to cause alarm. The men would know long before he crossed the outskirts that someone was approaching in the open. The men in question began to move subtly. By the fire one got to his feet to put another log on to burn, and returned to his previous seat closer to his weapons, the guards posted on the outskirts moved in concert to intercept the newcomer.
Amergin whistled, stopping them in their tracks, and their movement changed. It was a collective sigh and camp life resumed its normal course. The guards met Amergin and after a brief exchange, Alex was motioned to approach. Having no clothes in which to change, he had no choice but to remain as the Hawk.
Amergin met him.
“We are to rendezvous with Tavish. He’s tracking Liam. His wife and the priestess…”
There was no time to change, rage surfaced, and Alex took to flight, circling low around Amergin. He dove at his head catching the man’s forearm as he brought it up. His talons dug in, but Amergin was quick. Motioning for the guards to stand down, he turned, unclipping his cloak and spiraled it out to cover Alex’s hawk form. His interlace flared to life, and dismissing his arm that had been ripped to the bone from the deadly talons, he held tight, ending up on his knees bent over the bird pinning him to the ground. He stayed this way for a long time, even after Alex stopped fighting.
“Ye waste yer energy and precious time by fighting me.” Amergin said, as he felt the tension leave Alex. “I’m going ta let go my hold. Are ye composed enough?”
He waited another moment and then released the hawk, sitting back on his heels. He let Alex squirm his way out of the cloak’s folds. Alex shifted back into human form, pulling the discarded cloak onto his lap to cover his nakedness. Amergin gave a nod, and returned to tend his arm, already glowing with the working of a healing spell.
“I am sairy.”
“Doonae apologize. I understand.”
“I could ha’ hurt ye. I wanted ta kill ye.
“Ye didnae want ta.”
Alex scoffed, motioning to the damaged arm, “Och, ye nay think so?”
“Nay, I doonae.”
“Just one more thing I’m sairy for,” he muttered more to himself than for Amergin’s ears.
“Let it bide, Alexander. I wouldnae ha’ let ye if ye did mean it.”
“Oh?”
“Aye, ye arrogant bastart! I may be old and feeble, gods ken
my body is failing me, but as long as magic runs in my blood, ye’d ha’ a time trying ta best me.”
From the flush in his cheeks, and the look of shame on his face it was apparent to Alex that the encounter affected him more than he let on.
Amergin got to his feet and stumbled, reaching out to catch himself on the trunk of the nearest tree. He walked off without giving Alex a second look. “Let us go find Tavish and the priestess.”
~ ~ ~
Maggie was conducted through the opening, her heart hammering in her chest. She knew that she was leaving the world she knew behind. A world that didn’t make a bit of sense, and one she regularly thought she didn’t have a place in, but things were logical. It followed the laws of physics—gravity, that was a good solid example. Gravity made sense. Ripping a whole in thin air like it was fabric did not. Furthermore, stepping through that tear to another dimension definitely did not! But, magic was real. This statement echoed in her mind, and she forced it out.
Andy stepped through after her, his hands firmed planted on her shouldered directing her further in. All around them were trees, more vibrant, as if the color spectrum exploded and expanded indefinitely. And the trees were individual yet part of the surrounding forest, so lush and packed with growth, much like the pictures of the rainforest she’d seen in National Geographic; but this was a forest, she could identify some of the specimens. She didn’t know where or when she learned to distinguish one from the other, having no personal experience in either, but she knew she was elsewhere.
Magic is real. The thought surfaced again.
The passage was closed behind her; she heard the vacuum close with a pop. Until then, she hadn’t registered the cacophony until it stopped. Silence settled over them like a heavy blanket, she could feel the pressure on her eardrums. The colors intensified and the undulation started again in earnest. She’d seen it before when she was standing at the threshold to this world thinking then that it was fibers in the air, motes of dust, pollen, petals from flowering trees… but here she saw that it was more. Everything was moving.
Andy’s hands left her shoulders and she glanced back; he had the same wonderment on his face. She moved closer to a fern at the edge of the path. She reached out to touch a frond and it recoiled, pulling each of the blades toward the rachis. She snatched her hand back. The reaction sparked a wave of motion, each frond withdrawing like the first. Even the fiddleheads at the soil’s surface curled inward toward the ground. She looked to Andy for an explanation, but his eyes were as big as saucers.
She moved to the middle of the path bumping into Andy as she retreated. The ferns though, began to move in reverse motion, opening back up one after another, the wave motion like a domino effect. They undulated again and burst outward, each dancing color a separate entity around Maggie and Andy. Flitting here and there, landing on her skin, her eyelashes, up her nose. She batted at it, sneezing. The motes drew back all at once from the disturbance, but flew in again more insistent, tunneling through her short hair. Feather-soft wings brushed her neck. A small dragonfly she thought at first, but then she thought she saw…one landed on the back of her hand as she was bringing it up to her face and there it was… a small faery? It was smaller than her pinky nail, so small she couldn’t even discern whether it was male or female, if they even had the distinction. It was humanoid: two arms and legs, facial features two large eyes, a nose, a mouth. And wings made of what looked like an iridescent membrane, twice as large as its own body.
A large hand swatted at them from behind and she swung around to Cormac. He scowled, “Forest dryads. They are curious. T’is no’ often mortals enter without an inkling o’ magic.”
She nodded as if that made any sense to her.
“Come, we must no’ delay.”
Andy took her hand.
“You’re not going to carry me?” she asked sardonically.
“No need to any longer. There’s nowhere for you to go. You can’t get back the way you came, and to chance it on your own here? There are things that lurk here that are worse than your nightmares. Best to stay with the evil you know.”
Ruadan opened another passage, holding back this time until everyone was through. He took a particular interest in Maggie. She could feel his eyes bore into her back as she passed. The hairs at her nape stood on end, and she gulped, trying hard not to turn back and look. She had a feeling she’d find him too close. When he stepped through, his shadow devoured hers.
“Mortal girl,” his voice boomed out, “yer fear makes ye all the more enticing. Ye’ll scream for me before I’m through.”
Maggie cringed. Andy put his arm around her pulling her close.
Ruadan’s laugh made the ground shake. “Brave for one who’s so weak. I will kill ye quickly when the time comes.”
Maggie quickened her step, “The evil I know, huh? Holy fuck!” and all Andy could do was nod.
Cormac pointed, “Come, we’ve lodgings for the night.”
They came through to a different place. There were no warehouses, or busy streets. No cars, buses, or people for that matter. There was a narrow road leading to a group of buildings she could see in the distance. The buildings were small little specs almost indistinguishable except for their linear construction and formation. The road was not paved but well-worn, with two deep furrows approximately five feet apart. Wagons? Can’t be. Where were the cars? Weird.
She could feel the sweat drip between her shoulder blades despite the nip in the air. Her bare feet were the only part of her that was cold, and they were cut up because no one had supplied her with shoes. She stepped on a sharp stone and cried out, hopping on one foot until she plopped on her backside in the midst of the road cradling her injured foot. She extracted the sliver of stone, thinking it was a shard of glass, and Andy went to scoop her up but was stopped by Cormac with a word.
“Doonae. T’is part o’ her penance. She must endure.”
Andy hesitated but thought better of it and walked on.
When they finally entered the village, Maggie was dragging she was in so much discomfort she missed the signs. She picked up her head and took in the thatched rooves and the stables filled with horses. She spun taking in much of the same scenery all around.
“Where…When are we?”
Cormac pivoted and dropped into a formal bow, “My lady, welcome ta 1457.”
Chapter 22
Spencer snored and farted in his sleep somewhere nearby. Brenawyn nestled down further under the down comforter making sure to cover her nose and settling back against the solid form behind her cocooning her in warmth. There was a sleepy inquisitive murmur and a rolling of hips belying any interest in returning to a comatose state. She moved to pillow her head with her arm…and leaves crinkled. She bolted awake, but punishing fingers pressed into her hip pulling her back for more of his grinding. She could feel the state of matters through the layers of skirts.
“If this was what you wanted, I would have been happy to oblige you sooner.” Liam crooned.
She scrambled to get her legs under her, pulling on her bindings until her hands turned a mottled red. She scooted around the trunk of the tree desperate to put something between them.
“Get the fuck away from me! I swear, I will kill you.”
“Now, now.” He chastised, but he didn’t move from his original position. He patted the ground next to him. “Come on back.”
“Fuck you, you sack of shit,” she screamed.
“Your loss, then.” He groaned and stretched, making a lewd show of adjusting his length smirking at her all the while before jumping to his feet.
Brenawyn recognized that smile and she couldn’t believe that she ever found it alluring. It made her feel dirty and ashamed.
He stalked off, kicking Isla in passing. She cried out and grabbed her shin. She scuttled back against the base of her tree, inhibited by her bounds, but he didn’t spare her a look. He walked to the horses, untying the reins and tossing them over the nearest one’s head. He
grasped a handful of the mane and swung up. The horse protested and reared trying to toss him, but he kept his seat and viciously kicked the withers making the animal squeal. The others in the pack strained at their leads. Liam was insistent, and they were off like a shot, trampling through the undergrowth.
“Are you all right?”
Isla rubbed her leg, “Feels like the fecking man snapped my leg, but aye, I suppose I am. And ye? Ye were marrit ta that clod?”
“A long time ago.”
“Good riddance. Mayhap fortune will shine down, he’ll get the pox and his cock will fall off!”
Brenawyn strained her neck in the direction he disappeared. “Where do you think he went?”
“Well, we’re near Llanfair as best as I can tell. I heard them yammering on last night. Seems ta be takin’ us ta Bryn Celli Ddu.” She laughed at that, “if they are, mind ye, they’ll be getting a surprise.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“That’s were we were headed a’ the first. My Tavish has kent long ‘afore now that we’re gone. He’ll be followin’ and god help the man who stands in his way.”
“Why would they go through the effort to kidnap us if they knew we were headed to the same place? Why not ambush us later?”
“Perhaps they didnae intend ta do it,” and shrugged her shoulders, “mayhap we just presented too good a target ta pass up. I’m that sairy for it. I should ha’ thought…if anything happens ta ye…I’ll ne’er forgive myself.”
“What is in Bryn Celli Ddu?” Brenawyn stumbled on the name, feeling like her tongue had inexplicably grown to fill her mouth.
“T’is the Mound in the Dark Grove.”
Brenawyn shook her head indicating that the explanation had no meaning for her.
“Nay? Hmm.” She tilted her head considering Brenawyn. Apparently coming to the conclusion that she was just momentarily flummoxed, and deigning to be the epitome of unending patience she explained, “T’is the site o’ the Covenant drawn, when Amergin duped the Tuatha Dé and the Formorians both.”
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