Phoenix (Tuatha De Danann Book 1)
Page 28
I rush through the cavern toward Rowan’s fire. “Nara! Are you all right?”
“She is fearful,” Tyree says as Nara pants and moans in his arms.
“Fearful of the birth?” I ask, looking around for help. “I have no experience birthing babies.”
Rowan approaches with fresh blankets and a bowl of hot water. “She is doing well. It will not be long now.”
“She is fearful the babe will be taken from us if it is with magic,” Tyree says.
“Taken from you?”
Rowan flicks a pointed look filled with both anger and disgust my way. “We can have babes with magic. When this happens—when a child shows a talent—it is taken by the fae to be raised among those with magic.”
I take Nara’s trembling, sweaty hand and look into her eyes as her grotesquely swollen belly hardens with a contraction. “No one will take your child. I swear to you. They will have to go through me.”
Nara nods once and responds with a deep groan of pain.
Rowan shuffles me out of the way. “It’s time to push.”
Nara is so exhausted she can only nod, her face flushed and eyes closed.
Rowan prepares the blankets and water as Nara makes noises that sound like some dreadful combination of a lion and a whale, the cords in her neck visible with every exertion.
In this moment, I strike having babies off my bucket list.
“It’s coming!” Rowan says, grabbing a blanket, and moments later, she is holding a tiny, bright pink, squalling infant. “It’s a girl,” Rowan smiles and wraps the baby tightly before holding her out to Nara, who shakes her sweat-soaked head and gazes at me.
“It-it would be a great honor if-if the…queen was the first to hold her.”
“Um…sure…” I’ve never held a baby before, but Rowan settles the wriggling bundle in my arms.
The baby blinks and opens one eye, then the other, studying my face with a look of serious concern.
“She’s beautiful,” I murmur with a smile and tears rolling down my cheeks as I stare into the lovely light violet eyes of this sweet girl with a head full of damp dark brown curls.
I no longer see Nara and Tyree’s baby. Instead, I am holding a beautiful bundle with bright red curls and eyes the same dark indigo of Nuadha’s. My baby. Nuadha’s baby. Future queen of Tír na nÓg. I can see her so clearly, and she is perfect. Tears well and spill over my cheeks.
However, she’s a baby who will never be, no matter how much I love this phantom child. She is a representation of feelings that don’t exist.
“If you don’t mind…we’d like to call her Alys?” Nara asks timidly, shaking me out of my vision.
“I’d be honored.”
A nimbus of magic surrounds little Alys brightly, and I hesitate, unsure whether I should tell the couple. But before I can decide, the filaments of light seep away, like water circling a drain, and disappear through the dirt and stone floor of the cave.
I frown.
“What is it?” Rowan whispers, so as not to alarm the new mother.
“I-I’m not sure…” I reach out and probe gently with my senses. Her magic is gone, leaving nothing but a slight spark to show it ever existed. “She is no longer with magic,” I mutter.
The baby starts to cry, and I hand her over to Nara.
“Come with me,” I say to Rowan while Nara settles baby Alys to her breast.
My mind races with possibilities, and I shut the door behind us and prepare to test my theory. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” Rowan says without hesitation.
“Ok, stay still.” I once again stretch my senses and search for any magic hidden within Rowan. Initially, there is nothing. But then…
Yes! There it is.
I manipulate the remnant of magic to see if I can draw it out somehow. It flares before diminishing once more.
Rowan’s eyes widen, and she gasps. “What was that?”
“What did it feel like?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not sure. It was…almost like…like a fire was within me for a moment.”
“It was your magic.”
She frowns. “My magic? But I have no magic.”
“You did once.” I explain what I just saw and what happened to little Alys.
“So…the child was born with magic and it dissipated? Where did it go? Can you get it back?”
“I don’t know…” I mutter, thinking. “Can you bring the other pregnant fae to me?”
“Yes, of course.” Rowan nods. “At once.”
I wrack my brain for ideas while I pace the length of the room. The problem is that I don’t know enough about Tír na nÓg’s history to know if the phenomenon is normal or not. Perhaps this is what happens with Talentless babies. Perhaps all fae are born with magic. Magic exists around all living things, yet little Alys’ magic drained into stone…an object that does not inherently contain magic.
I stop pacing and concentrate on tracing where the magic went, but it is too late, not a hint of it remains.
Rowan returns with six women, all in various stages of pregnancy and all watching me warily.
“Thank you for coming,” I say.
They nod.
“I need to check how your faelings fare.”
A few shuffle toward the door with fear and anxiety wrinkling their fair brows.
“Don’t worry.” I hold my hands up, palms out. “I won’t hurt you or your faelings, I promise.”
Rowan grasps their hands, one by one, murmuring words of reassurance.
Their faces relax and they consent.
I close my eyes and concentrate, not on the woman but on their babies. The magic is obvious in the two women farthest along, but I am surprised to discover magic also in the faelings at early stages of development inside their mothers’ wombs. I also see each of the women houses the spark of magic inside them, too.
I open my eyes and smile. “Thank you. You can go back to your day.”
They file out.
“Well?” Rowan asks.
“Their babies all have varying degrees of magic, and they all hold a spark within them, too. But I have no way of knowing how normal that is.”
“Shall I let you know when the babies are about to be born? So you can see?”
“Yes, good idea.” Looks like Aiden’s crack about me becoming a midwife won’t be far off the mark.
“Maeve should be more naught than a week away from welcoming her faeling. I will watch her.”
“Thank you. I need to return to training.” I give her a swift hug and make my way back to the hot gorge floor where Aiden is still drilling my sweaty troops.
He yells a command and the fighters pair off to practice hand-to-hand combat.
“Successful birth, sister?” Aiden asks, striding to meet me.
I nod and grin. “Yes. I have a namesake.”
Aiden laughs. “Not the last one, I think. Your people love you. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were twenty little Alys by the end of the year.”
“Let’s not get carried away.” I grimace. “You can see the magic, too, can’t you?”
Aiden nods. “Of course, why?”
I explain what I saw after little Alys’ birth.
Aiden frowns, resting his chin in his hand. “I must admit, I have never been present at the birth of a faeling, so I have no idea. You say the Talentless all have remnants of magic within them?”
“From what I have seen so far, yes.”
“I suppose that makes sense. The Talentless are immortal. If they had no magic at all, they would age and die, even on Tír na nÓg. Strange it is not something I ever detected, but perhaps you are more sensitive than I.”
“Maybe,” I reply with a shrug. “Rowan’s keeping an eye out. I want to witness more births, see if it happens again.”
“Good idea. I will also ask our father about it. I travel to see him tonight. He is a two-day ride away.”
I look up, excited and desperate to meet my only paren
t. “You’re going to see him? Can I come?”
“Not this time, Alys. You are needed here. We cannot both be gone at the same time.”
I fold my arms and scowl. “Well, when is he coming here?”
“Soon. He is desperate to meet you and so proud of the woman you have become. I have been keeping him updated on your exploits in my letters.”
My heart warms.
“I will return in a week or so,” Aiden says as he turns to leave.
“Okay. Oh, wait!”
“Yes?”
“I have been testing the limits of my shield. When you return, I would like to see how it holds up against you while I protect our army.”
Aiden beams. “It will be my pleasure to hurl a few fireballs at you, sister.”
I laugh. “Thanks.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
It’s a full two weeks before Aiden returns, but he wastes no time bombarding my shield with magic.
“More,” I say, gritting my teeth as he forms fireball after fireball, searching for a weakness in my defense.
I can shelter hundreds of fae without any loss of protection, but like Rowan noted, it tires me, and I can only hold it for a few minutes. Still, I am hopeful we will be able to protect ourselves against Nuadha and his magical army—even for a short time. If I can prevent them from doing magic, we stand a greater chance in a more traditional fight.
“You are getting stronger,” Aiden says when I stop to rest.
“Slowly, I guess.” I shrug and fight to steady my breathing. I hate that my progress is taking so long.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Alys. You attain magical feats the likes of which I have never seen before. I wonder…do you think could we combine our shields? Perhaps we might be stronger as one. Speaking of, you have achieved much with your troops, but have you been practicing your magic beyond your shield?”
“In what way? It’s just there, isn’t it?”
“Your magic is like a muscle. As you’ve discovered with your shield, you can flex it, and help it grow. Watch.” He closes his eyes and holds out his hand.
With no warning, my sword, stashed safely in its scabbard at my side, suddenly flies into his outstretched hand.
He catches it deftly, smiles, and hands it back.
“How did you do that?” I ask, eyes wide.
“Practice.”
“You think I can do that, too?”
He nods. “We don’t have exactly the same powers, true. Your shield is far more powerful than mine, but I see no reason why you cannot will things to you. I’ve seen you blow twenty fae off their feet without even trying.”
I study him, paying close attention his magic. “Your shield is powerful.” I cross my arms and throw an evil-eye side-glance his way before smirking. I can’t believe you hid your magic from me for six months!”
He shrugs. “I am sorry for the deception. I had to be sure of the queen you would become. I admit it was difficult for me to maintain the façade for such a long time, however. I am pleased there are no more secrets between us.”
The niggling voice in the back of my head reminds me of my ability to manipulate magic. “Aiden, I—”
Now is not the time, daughter.
“Did you hear that?” I spin around, searching the area.
“Hear what?” Aiden grasps his sword as he assumes his battle stance.
Say nothing of this to your brother.
“It’s…um,” I shake my head. “It’s nothing. I’m…I guess I’m hearing things.” I know it is not Mandrake. This mind is unfamiliar. Who is this?
I am your mother.
My mother is dead.
Do not believe all you are told.
Where are you?
When such questions arise, the answer is in following the magic, Alys.
“What is it?” Aiden asks, frowning. “Are you well? You look…strange.”
“Of course. I’m totally fine. Let’s get back to training.”
I hear another noise and turn to see Rowan yelling and waving as she hurries across the dusty gorge floor.
“Maeve…is nearing…final…stage of…labor,” she says between gasps. “I thought you might want—” She flicks a worried glance toward Aiden.
“It’s okay. I told him.” I smile. “Let’s go. Do you want to see?” I ask Aiden.
He nods. “Indeed. I would see this phenomenon for myself.”
Maeve, with her red face and exhausted body, is already pushing by the time we arrive.
“It was a fast labor, the baby was overdue,” Rowan says.
Moments later, a squirming pink little boy arrives, this time, with a shock of red hair and pointed purple ears.
“Do you see it?” I murmur to Aiden as the midwife wraps the baby and hands him to his beaming mother. The magic surrounds him, the delicate filaments joyfully dancing around as if they, too, are celebrating his birth.
“He is strong with it,” Aiden says, nodding.
Moments later, however, just as it did with little Alys, the magic starts to drain away.
“See it?”
Aiden frowns. “Strange.”
I consider manipulating it to see if I can make it stay with the boy, but then I remember the strange voice and following the magic.
The filaments move away from the suckling baby and sink toward the ground purposefully as if very clear on where they are going.
“Is there anything below this cavern?” I ask Aiden.
He nods. “More caves. The natural formations range far and deep, for hundreds of miles in every direction. You could explore for a year and not see them all.”
“Can you show me?”
Aiden takes off, and I follow as he leads down a few gently sloping tunnels. Sure enough, we reach even more caves, some large and some small, many dripping with natural metals and crystals.
Aiden forms a fireball so we can see where we are going. “By my estimation, we are directly below the cavern,” he says as we reach a small subterranean cave.
I close my eyes and concentrate on the last remnants of the boy’s magic. “This way,” I say, pointing to a narrow niche off to the side.
This time, I lead as we follow the faint trail of magic along a dank tunnel We’re forced to crouch through a small entrance that opens onto a stunning underground lake emitting its own dull glow.
“Dammit!” I yell.
“What is it?” Aiden asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“The magic of the water totally obscured the signal I was getting from the baby’s magic. I’ve lost it.”
Aiden sighs. “It was likely a dead end anyway, sister. The magic returned to the earth from whence it came. Perhaps this is what happens with all the Talentless, and we two are the only to witness it.”
“I guess…” The stubborn part of me doesn’t want to let it go, however.
“Let us return. We have much to do to prepare for war.”
I reluctantly follow Aiden back, but not before taking one last look at the beautiful lake so full of natural minerals it radiates blue in the darkness of the cavern, despite the lack of sunlight.
“You mustn’t come down here without me,” Aiden says as he uses a fireball to guide us back through the maze of tunnels. “I know you wish to follow the magic, but as I said before, the network of caves and tunnels down here is extensive. You could easily become lost and never seen again.”
“Okay.”
“You are too valuable to lose.” Aiden grabs my shoulder and lightly shakes. “Promise me.”
“I promise.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I know they are a lie. There is no way I am not going to find out where the magic is going.
***
Several weeks later, I find my moment. Aiden disappears regularly, leaving me in charge of the more than one thousand Talentless allies. I assume he has a lover, so after he leaves one afternoon, I try to remember the route he followed as I sneak back to the underground network.
When the pathway
narrows, and it’s clear he must stay behind, Mandrake snorts and paws the ground to show his absolute displeasure.
“You won’t fit. I’m sorry, I know you’re bored.”
Watching you train for battle is tiresome. We fight, or we don’t. This waiting is vexing.
“I understand. I’m simply trying to prepare my people.”
You lead them to the slaughter.
“I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”
Your hope is misplaced.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I mutter as I walk away.
Despite my best efforts, it only takes a few minutes to get lost in the continuous, indistinguishable system of tunnels and caves. One wrong turn, and I’m traversing unfamiliar passages that occasionally widen into larger grottoes and caverns before shrinking again to rocky shafts barely big enough for me to shimmy through on my hands and knees. There is also the constant drip, drip, drip of freezing moisture falling from the stalactites above me, and before long, I am soaked from crawling through puddles.
Sending a fireball ahead of me, I inch through a particularly tight passageway and pray it opens wide enough for me to turn around and go back the way I came.
A slight ripple of light in the gloom catches my attention, and I squeeze through the ever-shrinking shaft toward it.
The fireball reflects the lapping edge of water.
I wedge through the hole in the rock, sit on the banks of the water, and smile, quite smug and satisfied with my accomplishment. Judging by the deep, glowing blue, it’s the opposite side of the same lake Aiden and I found last time.
I send a larger fireball to the top of the cavern, illuminating everything for fifty feet. I’m not entirely certain, but I think the sandy shore we stood on a few weeks ago is to my left.
“Well, I guess being a water fae has its perks.” I slide into the lake—sword and all—and bite back a gasp. The water feels like liquid glacier.
I dunk my head, curious to see if there is any life in this calm quiet. Even with the film over my eyes, though, I still can’t see very far ahead. The water is a stunning azure blue color, but the consistency is thick and murky with minerals, almost milk-like. My gills feel clogged with it. Surely, no water fae live here.
I surface, disappointed, but grin when I spot another shore on the far side of the lake. Perhaps this will lead me to where the magic disappeared.