by Vanessa Skye
“Bres and the Talentless are no match for my army, even at half strength.”
“If you would listen to m—”
“No!” he bellows. He glances at the other fae in the room. “Leave us!”
The men look at me uncertainly. “But, Sire—”
He glowers at them. “Do you doubt my ability to protect myself from this female?”
They flee without another word.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “I’m trying to hel—”
“You left us!” he yells, but his anger is overridden by sorrow. “You left me. For what? Because I wouldn’t claim you? Because I refused to make you mine while you were still a child? We could have had an eternity together had you but waited, faeling! I would have willingly made you my queen, prophecy be damned.”
“If you call me a faeling one more time, you dickhead, I’ll take your other arm!” I yell. “And what? I was supposed to listen to you with other women in the meantime while you take your good old time? I’m not a child. I love, I fight…I lead an army, damn it!”
“You are fae, which makes you a chi—”
“I am not only fae and you know it!”
“And even if you weren’t still a child, you behaved like one when you left. You didn’t get your way, so you ran away with my general to join the enemy. You threw a tantrum like a child, a tantrum that will have far-reaching effects! Your actions started a war, a war that will only be finished by me and my fae. As it was before, so it will be again! I ride to meet our foe for the final time. And I will prevail. We will proceed as planned for I care nothing for what you say anymore.”
“Please, you mu—”
“I will not fall for your so-called warnings. You are the one leading us into a trap. You come here dressed like no female I have ever seen and seek to seduce me into laying my army at your feet. You would use your beauty and my weakness for it to bring us to destruction, and I will not allow it.” He practically growls the words at me through gritted teeth.
“Listen to me. I love y—”
He draws his flaming sword and points it at me. “Your love is not welcome here! You will submit or be destroyed. It is your choice, Alys.”
I know he cannot bring himself to kill me as surely as I know his power is nothing but a fraction of mine. But, if we battle now, I will be forced to kill him and plunge Tír na nÓg into further uncertainty.
I bow my head. “I will not fight you.”
“Guards!” Nuadha shouts.
His men burst back into the room followed by Baird, whose beloved face pales when he sees me.
“You will escort this fae to a cell.” Nuadha glares at me. “You will find the bars quite unaffected by your fire. Fire users have been successfully imprisoned there for centuries.”
Nuadha’s men surround me, relieving me of my sword and my dagger.
I am pushed through the halls, down several flights of stairs, and inside three locked gates before being shoved into a tiny cell with three walls hewn into stone and thick iron bars across the entrance. I can feel Nuadha’s gaze on my back the entire way, but I put up no fight.
The door clangs shut and I wince.
“Leave us,” Nuadha says.
Baird hesitates.
“Now!” Nuadha yells. He waits until the men have filed out before speaking again. “I can feel how your power has grown since you left us. You may even have the ability to escape here if you wished.”
I say nothing.
“So, know this…if you leave this cell, your life is forfeit.”
“You can’t bring yourself to kill me, Nuadha.”
“What makes you so certain?”
“You have been protecting me my whole life. You knew who and where I was the whole time. The pendant my mother used to ward off the fae on Earth? You gave it to her. It was your crest. You broke your own law and traveled to Earth to protect me when I was just a baby.”
He steps closer, grasping the thick bars so tightly with his hands I can see the white of his knuckles. “You think I won’t kill you because I love you?” he whispers and stares straight into my eyes. “The idea does not bring me undue relish, I admit. But do not doubt, Alys. I will remove my own heart if it means protecting Tír na nÓg and it’s people from tyranny.”
He leaves me speechless as he stalks out, slamming an iron gate behind him as he bellows, “We march as planned!”
I’m not sure what hurts my heart more—the fact that he just admitted he loves me, or the fact that I know he will try to kill me if he thinks it is the right thing to do, and in defending myself, I may have to kill him.
***
My throat burns with thirst and my stomach rumbles with hunger while I pace the three steps it takes to reach one side of my small cell before turning and taking three back.
Footsteps approach, and for a heartbeat, I have an irrational hope that Nuadha is coming to free me.
Instead, an equally beloved face appears on the other side of my cell bars, holding a clay pot of water and a loaf of bread. Baird stares with genuine sadness and sorrow.
“You have not ridden to war?” I ask, surprised.
He sighs and shakes his head. “Nuadha left me in charge of Chathair Mhór in his absence. It is true?”
“Nuadha is riding into an ambush,” I say before taking a long drink. “Thank you.” I tear into the bread.
“You told him Aiden is your brother, Bres is back, and he is…your father? How can this be?”
I share an abridged version of my parentage and Bres’ survival thanks to the Bailitheoir then turn my pleading eyes to his. “Please. You have to talk sense into him. Talentless are not the only beings prepared to fight. Bres brought humans to Tír na nÓg. Thousands of them! This world, and every being in it, will soon be at his mercy!”
Baird sighs. “Humans cann—”
“Listen to me! I found Danu.”
His eyes widen.
“She is not lost. She was stolen, her power drained, used to bear children, and then forced to open a veil so humans might travel back and forth between worlds. She is my mother. Nuadha must be stopped!”
“Danu is your…of course! Your magic, Estrild’s pleas…it all makes sense now.” He stares at me. “You look different, older. Your power has grown.”
“Please!” I jerk the bars in frustration. “We don’t have time to chat.”
“Wait here.”
I roll my eyes.
He is back seconds later, carrying a bunch of iron keys as well as my weapons, which he shoves through the bars.
I strap them on then jump from one foot to the other impatiently as he fumbles for the right key. At this rate, the war will be over by the time we get there. “Get out of the way.”
He must catch the look on my face because he does so without argument.
I gather my power and blast the bars free of the solid rock holding them and do the same to the next three iron gates leading to the surface of the prison.
“Why didn’t you do that in the first place?” Baird asks as we run toward the gates of the city.
“I was hoping Nuadha would come to his senses.” I still am.
Two armed fae come running, but Baird waves them away.
“She’s with me!”
Mandrake is waiting at the gates.
“Will you make it on time?” Baird asks as I jump onto the unicorn’s back.
Will we?
It will be close.
I pat Mandrake’s neck. “Thank you!” I glance over my shoulder and shout as we gallop away.
Baird raises a hand, his expression an equal mix of sad and anxious.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Mandrake’s hooves barely to touch the ground as we fly from Chathair Mhór, finding to Nuadha and his army within a few short hours. We hang back, shadowing them discreetly, as at least one thousand fae run over the beautiful landscape, their polished armor shining the sunlight quickly and Nuadha’s banner flying in the spring air.
&nb
sp; “Idiot!” He is so sure of victory he isn’t even bothering to hide his approach.
His army jogs an entire day and night with us following them.
As evening approaches on the second day, the fae enter a secluded valley covered with wildflowers and surrounded by mountains and a lough stretching into the distance for miles. It is close to the networks of caves I know Bres is hiding his human and fae forces in, and except for the single narrow opening, there is no other way in or out.
The fae gather at the mouth of the soon-to-be battlefield and await instructions.
Nuadha waves some fae forward to investigate the empty field, but they quickly return, shaking their heads and clearly disappointed at not finding the expected Talentless hiding within.
Just as the dejected troops look to their king, a rumbling rolls deep inside the earth.
Drawing their swords, the fae desperately search for the source of the strange sound in the quiet field.
Seconds later, Talentless fae erupt from seemingly everywhere at once, launching a deadly shower of arrows aimed at the fae.
Taken by surprise and completely unprepared, the fae army retreats into the very trap they set themselves. The one and only way out of the clearing is through the Talentless.
I gasp as Aiden and an old man stalk to the front of the Talentless ranks. My brother is alive, and the old man is none other than the same one who tried to force me to choose between the trapped faelings and Nuadha so long ago. His long gray hair merges into his even longer gray robes, giving him the appearance of a tall, thin colorless wraith. I am too far away to see the color of his eyes, but I am guessing they are green, like Aiden’s and mine.
My gaze flicks to my brother. Other than a bandage covering his handless wrist, he looks normal. I don’t know whether to be horrified or relieved I didn’t kill my only sibling.
I look away just in time to catch doubt and open shock flicker across Nuadha’s face before he steadies his unsettled forces with a wave of his hand.
“The fae will never again be subject to your tyranny. Only upon my death will you take Tír na nÓg, Bres!” Nuadha bellows, drawing his flaming sword.
“Your terms are acceptable, Silver Arm,” Bres replies, his voice gnarly and cracking. “Surrender now. Your army is spread across Éire defending the pathetic fae communities you so love. Barely half your men are here! How do you propose to win with so few at your back?”
“I have more than enough men to claim victory from you. And this time, banishment isn’t an option. Your death is all that will satisfy me.” A long golden spear reminiscent of Mandrake’s horn appears in Nuadha’s other hand.
The Spear of Lugh—the magical spear that ensures victory.
Nuadha holds it aloft, and his forces cheer.
“Your pointy stick does not scare me, Silver Arm.” Bres laughs, an evil cackling sound, and reaches out.
Nuadha yells as the spear flies out of his grasp and hovers in the air, just beyond his grasp, before a resounding crack rings out across the battlefield.
The spear falls to the valley floor, broken into two pieces.
“How did…”
Nuadha’s forces stare at each other with blatant fear written across their faces for the first time.
“Your goddess has forsaken you!” Bres yells. “Today will go down in history as the end of all fae.”
“To victory!” Nuadha shouts, raising his flaming sword above his head.
His troops prepare to charge.
“Stop!” I scream, riding Mandrake between the two armies itching to fight. “You have all been deceived.” My voice echoes with the power inside me, forging through the valley, bouncing off the sheer cliffs, and skimming across the lough.
Both armies hesitate—the Talentless fae confused to see me at odds with their cause, and Nuadha’s fae unsure what my appearance means to the fight.
“Hear me out before you go needlessly to your deaths!”
“You just signed your death warrant,” Nuadha bellows. “You and your traitorous family!”
“My father is but one of my parents, and I am my mother’s daughter!” I raise my chin and stare him down from Mandrake’s back. “Hear me now,” I shout. “I came to stop this madness before all of Tír na nÓg is razed to the ground.”
“It is too late!” Nuadha points his flaming sword at me. “If you do not stand aside, you will be killed with the rest of our foe.”
“You will hear me because Danu—my mother and your goddess—commands it!”
Nuadha shakes his head. “You lie.”
I hold up my hand, my fingers outstretched, and will the Sword of Danu out of his grip and into mine. I catch it effortlessly by the hilt. While the sword is massive, it weighs nothing in my hand, shaping itself to my palm and feeling as though it was made just for me. “What more proof do you need? I am the daughter of the goddess of Tír na nÓg, Nuadha, and you will listen to me!”
The fae on both sides of the field gasp as I raise the sword over my head.
Blue flames burst from the blade, climbing into the sky in a magnificent fiery spiral, before disappearing into the clouds overhead.
“Hear me,” I scream over the roaring blaze. “I am Alys, Queen of the Talentless, daughter of Danu, and wielder of the Sword of Danu!”
Nuadha takes a step forward, his eyes wide. “This cannot be truth.”
“How else can I hold your sword without being incinerated, Nuadha?”
Fae gazes flicker from the sword to Nuadha and back again. They know its history. They know only those given power by Danu herself can wield it.
“You have all been manipulated by Bres. His sole purpose is to start a war so he might rule Tír na nÓg and sell its natural resources to the human world,” I scream. “Try to deny it!” I point the sword at Bres like an extension of my accusing finger.
“What I do with Tír na nÓg when I take my rightful place on the throne is none of your concern,” he replies with a sneer.
I face the troops of Talentless fae I have come to know and love during these past months. “Bres and Aiden are no more champions of Talentless than Nuadha is. You made me your queen because you trusted me to speak for you, to protect you. I’m asking you to trust me now. Bres means to send you to your graves today. He knows you are no match for Nuadha’s forces. You will be slaughtered. You are but a distraction for his real army!” I face Nuadha. “None of these Talentless want to fight the fae. They do not want to fight their families and friends. They do not wish to be at war with you.”
“Then order them to drop their weapons.”
“They have been manipu—”
“I do not—”
“Listen for once, you stubborn ass!” I scream, sending another column of the sword’s fire roaring into the clouds. “Humans disguised as Talentless fae have been attacking fae under Bres’ orders. They are the ones burning communities while Bres distracts you with a few roaming bands of hapless Talentless you easily defeat. He knew the fae would retaliate, banishing Talentless until they had no choice but to join Bres or starve! He knew the rest of the fae would follow your lead. He has driven a wedge between you, and your arrogant fuckery allowed it to happen!”
My army looks as disquieted by this news as Nuadha’s troops.
“He means to send as many of you as possible to your graves, so he and his human army might take over Tír na nÓg unopposed. You are nothing more than pawns to him. This war has been manufactured!”
Nuadha crosses his arms. “There are no humans on Tír na nÓg. They cannot travel through the veil!”
“They can if there’s a permanent rip in the veil.”
Nuadha takes a step back. “No one can create a rift that powerful, only—” His eyes widen.
“My mother can,” I whisper.
“But she—”
“She’s alive, barely. Her magic has held the veil open for so long her life force has become bound to it. To close it means killing her,” I say, and my voice shakes. “At
this moment, there are thousands of humans waiting to overwhelm you with superior numbers and weapons.”
“Kill her, Aiden.” Bres doesn’t scream or shout. He merely issues the order like he’s commenting on the weather.
My brother stares at me, regret flashing across his face before he forms a fireball with his remaining hand and flings it at me.
I lower the sword and surround myself with light.
The fireball extinguishes the second it meets my shield.
“You can’t kill me, brother. Please, don’t make me kill you.”
“You won’t kill me, sister. You cannot. You love me.” Aiden shakes his head before forming fireball after fireball and heaving them at me, sometimes two or three at a time, only to have them die outside my shield. He clenches his teeth as he draws on more of his energy to throw useless projectiles at me. “Your shield will weaken, eventually, Alys. You forget…I am the one who trained you.”
“And your power will also weaken, long before my shield does. But you are right about one thing. I do love you.” A tear rolls down my cheek as I drop my shield and form a fireball of my own, hurling it, just as Aiden tosses one at me.
Our flames collide.
The resulting explosion is an enormous red, yellow, white, and blue inferno creating a whirling firestorm.
Fae fall to the ground to avoid being burned alive, including Aiden.
Bres cackles.
“Aiden, it’s not too late to do the right thing. You don’t have to follow Bres just because he is your father. Please!”
“Your pleas fall on deaf ears, Alys,” Bres says. “My son is loyal where my daughter fails. Do it now!”
As Aiden gets to his feet and forms yet another ball of flame, I reach for him. “Here’s something you never knew I could do, brother,” I whisper. I grasp the threads of intense magic surrounding him. Little by little, I draw it away, just like the tear in the veil has been doing to our mother for centuries.
Aiden brings his palms in front of his face then stills. “What are you doing?” Unable to stop it, he watches his magic rapidly flow from him to me.
