Caelihn

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  “Damn, Robyn!” Meghan said, her exclamation coming out mostly as a laugh. “How the hell did you learn to shoot so well in such a short amount of time?”

  Wow. That was two curse words from a friend who couldn’t even sneeze for fear of offending someone. But then again, living in Eile can change a person.

  Cade stepped forward and put one arm around his wife. “Meghan has been practicing for years, and she still misses the target every now and again.”

  Meghan tried to pull away from Cade, but he only pressed her closer. Instead, she drew back and jabbed him in the ribs. He made a strangled cry and tried to move out of range without letting Meghan go.

  “You are supposed to flatter and sing the praises of your wife,” Meghan managed, “not insult her.”

  Cade’s eyes smoldered, and his smile turned slightly wicked. He lowered his head and in a voice barely loud enough for the rest of us to hear, he said, “But you have so many more attributes, mohr faelorah, ones I’m certain you wouldn’t want me to describe in front of our friends.”

  Meghan gasped and tried to smack him again. She wasn’t fast enough. Cade dipped his head and kissed her, drawing her even closer. My friend abandoned her struggle against him, giving into the kiss.

  Devlin and I were both shaking our heads and laughing. It was so nice to see this side of my friend, this confident and carefree Meghan. She definitely wasn’t the same girl she had been in high school, and I was so very proud of her for it. And, I was so happy she had found someone like Cade, outcast son of the Morrigan or not. Clearly, he loved my friend and would do anything to protect her, and she would do the same. Yet, he hadn’t come along and fought her battles for her, rather, he had been her teammate, her confidant, her source of encouragement. In the past few years, Cade had been Meghan’s savior just as much as she had been his. I had heard enough of their story, and seen the way they moved around each other, always aware that the other was nearby, to know that I was right.

  Cade released Meghan and turned her toward the archery range. “Time to show them what you can do,” he said with a soft smile.

  Meghan grinned at him, then took up her bow.

  As I watched my friend choose an arrow, Devlin came up behind me quietly, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me up against him. I leaned my head back against his chest and breathed in his scent. Immediately, I felt calm and safe and I wondered if Meghan and Cade viewed us the same way I viewed them. In the past year, I had gone through some major life-changing events, maybe not as drastic as Meghan’s, but overwhelming nonetheless. And I, too, had had someone to help me through it all. Devlin, my steadfast rock, who could have chosen to leave me to my own fate as he dealt with his duty to the high queen of Eile. But he hadn’t. He’d stayed by my side, even when I stubbornly refused to keep away from danger.

  I reached up and pressed my hands against his forearms. His skin was warm and smooth beneath my touch, and at that moment, I wanted to leave the cold, grey outdoors behind and retreat to our room for the remainder of the day.

  “Are all the men of Eile as honorable as you and Cade?” I whispered as his body heat warmed my chilled skin.

  I felt Devlin’s lips press against my temple. “No. On the contrary. The Otherworld is full of men, and women, who are just as greedy and heartless as many of those in the mortal world.”

  My brow furrowed, and I tilted my head back so I could see him. “Then how on earth did Meghan and I luck out with the two of you?”

  Devlin smiled and leaned close to murmur in my ear, “How can you be sure it was you and Meghan who lucked out? What makes you think Cade and I weren’t the lucky ones? How do you know it wasn’t our spirits that reached out and ensnared yours?”

  Laughing, I stepped away from him and placed my hands on my hips. “Oh, really?” I stated. “Who’s to say Meghan and I weren’t on the prowl for a pair of hot, Otherworldly men?”

  I wriggled my eyebrows at him, and the dark shade of blue that crept into his eyes told me I had better back off. Unless, of course, I didn’t mind this evolving into a situation best kept behind closed doors. Before I could give it much more thought, Devlin blurred into action, lunging forward to grab me. Fortunately, I anticipated his move before he could follow through, and I stepped back just in time.

  Behind us, Cade cleared his throat, reminding both Devlin and me that we weren’t alone. Blinking, I turned to face my friend and her husband. Cade was grinning, and Meghan was giving me a very knowing look. Oh, lovely. I bet they were thinking all kinds of inappropriate thoughts right now. I gave a mental shrug. Oh well. It’s not like Cade hadn’t started it with his suggestive comment to his wife.

  “Perhaps we should return to the castle and see about lunch?” the Lord of Luathara suggested, gesturing toward the black clouds in the distance. “The brunt of the storm is still far off, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the skies decided to open up for the remainder of the day.”

  “Yes! Lunch sounds great. I’m starving!” I piped, scooping up Venom and all my spare bolts.

  Devlin and Cade, the Otherworldly gentlemen that they were, offered to collect the arrows still protruding from the hay bales as Meghan and I walked back up the road. Inside Luathara Castle, the air was warm and filled with a delicious scent of savory spices. Birgit’s mother, Melvina, emerged from the hallway just as Cade and Devlin caught up to us. The master cook’s apron was dusted with flour and stained with what looked like small specks of gravy. A halo of blond, wispy hair had escaped the long braid trailing down her back to frame her kind face.

  “Right on time!” she proclaimed, ushering us in with a wave of her arm toward the smaller, more informal dining room on the right. “I’ve made a broth from the drippings of tonight’s roast and tossed in some onions, potatoes and other tidbits here and there.”

  She batted her hand around nonchalantly, as if throwing together a soup was no more difficult than splattering paint on a canvas and calling it art. I would have been nervous about tasting the concoction, but having tried Melvina’s cooking before, I knew it would be delicious. Ten minutes after we were settled around the table, the door leading directly into the kitchen from the dining room swung open and one of the kitchen staff carried in a tray holding a large tureen. A young woman followed with a stack of bowls and spoons and a covered basket hanging from the crook of her elbow. Briant poked his dark head in from the hallway door, and Cade enticed him and his wife to sit down and eat with us.

  “The kitchen needs tidying, so we can start preparing for the evening meal,” Melvina protested.

  “You can’t spare half an hour to rest and enjoy our company?” Meghan chided with a smile.

  For a moment, the steward’s wife looked as if she would argue, but her tall husband took hold of her arm and steered her to a chair.

  “Very well,” she grumbled, then glanced up at the two women who had brought the food in. “Ailis, Maire, could you start preparing the ingredients for the pies before you take your break? And be sure to eat something as well. There should be extra soup in the smaller cauldron.”

  The two women curtseyed and disappeared through the kitchen door. As soon as everyone was settled around the great, rough wooden table, we dove in, ladling out hot, fragrant soup and tearing off pieces of warm, fresh bread. I hadn’t even tasted my first spoonful of soup when the sky grew suddenly darker, and the familiar sound of fat raindrops spattering against glass met my ears. Birgit and her younger sisters burst through the kitchen door thirty seconds later, all three of them out of breath from running.

  “That rain came on without a single warning drop!” Birgit exclaimed, sweeping a towel from a hook by the wall. She quickly got to work patting her hair dry as she headed to the fireplace in the opposite corner.

  “We had just finished picking the kale!” Oriana exclaimed, her face smeared with dirt and raindrops.

  Melvina clucked and pulled her onto her lap, taking a cloth napkin to the girl’s face. “Did you leave it with
the kitchen staff?”

  “Yes, mother,” Birgit answered, as she attempted to clean up Wynne.

  “Where’s your brother?” Briant wondered aloud, dipping his knife into the butter dish.

  “He was helping Connor, so I’m guessing he’s stuck in the stables for now.” Birgit grinned up at her father. “He’ll have to make do with whatever the stable master has available for lunch.”

  Sitting at the table with Meghan and Cade and their employees felt like being part of a large, comfortable family. I had been so engrossed with watching their conversation, I had forgotten about my soup. Only when I felt a light touch on my hand, did I snap back to reality.

  “Is everything okay?” Devlin asked softly, his fingers brushing against my skin.

  I grinned. “Fine. Why?”

  His eyes softened. “You had that look on your face.”

  My eyebrows furrowed. “What look?”

  The left side of his mouth curved up. “The look you get when you forget to be your feisty, sarcastic self.”

  I ignored his teasing and said, “Just enjoying the company is all.”

  He gave a genuine smile and got back to his own meal, lifting a spoonful in a toast to remind me I should be eating, too. My stomach growled, just in case Devlin’s gesture wasn’t enough. Oh yeah. I was hungry. To my great relief, the soup was still hot when I took my first bite. My eyes widened in bliss as I savored the rich flavor of beef and garden fresh vegetables. The Otherworld might have its pitfalls, but the food here was divine.

  For the rest of the afternoon, Meghan, Cade, Devlin and I holed up in the library, taking turns reading passages from books of Otherworldly poetry and playing cards or board games. Some of the poetry was horrible, in which case we laughed and tried to take on ridiculous personalities to best mimic the writer’s tone. Some of the books recounted historical events or the myths and legends of heroes past. Those particular stories were a lot more interesting than the dry poetry. The board games were simple and fun to play, but my favorite activity, by far, was playing poker. While rifling through the closet holding the board games, I found a deck of cards and immediately pulled them out.

  Meghan had played a little with me before, and Cade had a basic understanding, but Devlin was completely new to the game. We explained the rules to him and got to playing right away, using a box of small polished pebbles Meghan had pulled from the game chest as poker chips. Outside, the rain continued its onslaught as the sun moved behind the veil of clouds, gradually dipping beyond the horizon in the west. I could care less about the damp weather, however. I was tucked away in an ancient castle, enjoying the warmth of a roaring fire and the company of good friends.

  We retired early that evening, all four of us weary from our day of revelry. The moment Devlin and I climbed into our massive bed, I curled up next to him and closed my eyes. Between the gentle drumming of the rain against the windowpanes, the soft murmur of the flames dancing in the hearth and the steady rhythm of Devlin’s heartbeat and deep, steady breaths, I was asleep in no time.

  -Chapter Eight-

  Entreaty

  I awoke early the next morning to find the sky had, if at all possible, grown darker. My hand shot out, instinctively reaching for Devlin, but he wasn’t there. Nor was he in our room when I got up and started seeking out my clothes for the day. I climbed down the staircase, wondering if Meghan and Cade were up yet. A boy in his early teens pointed me in the direction of the smaller dining room. There, I found Meghan and Birgit enjoying tea and oatmeal.

  Meghan looked up and spotted me in the doorway. She beamed. “Oh good, you’re up! I thought, since the storm is going nowhere, and since Cade has kidnapped Devlin to see to some of the outbuildings before it really starts raining, you might want to help me finish up tidying my study.”

  She gave a small, guilty cringe as she said it. Knowing Meghan, she really hated having to ask me to help her with something she viewed as ‘her chore’, but I merely smiled and nodded as I took a seat.

  “Heck, yeah!” I chirped. “Especially if we find any more goofy posters I can embarrass you with.”

  I helped myself to the crock of oatmeal, making a small mountain in my bowl and then pouring in cream, sugar, cinnamon and pecans. I stirred it all together, then took a bite. Mmmmm. Just as good as last night’s roast.

  We didn’t linger over breakfast long, and by the time we reached the study, it was still early in the morning. Niall stumbled into the room behind us, insisting on cleaning the hearth, again, before lighting a new fire. While the boy was busy trying to coax the flames to spread over a cord of wood, his sister brought in a fresh pot of hot tea, placing it on top of a stack of old newspapers on the central table after giving it an accusing glare.

  “Thank you, Birgit! Go ahead and leave the door open on your way out,” Meghan called over her shoulder as she cracked the window facing the garden. The rain was no longer flinging itself against the castle, and she had muttered something about fresh air.

  Having the door open and exposing this little cluttered room to the wide open space beyond felt almost indecent, but after a few minutes, the musty air already smelled cleaner. Shortly after, Meghan and I got to work and had spent no more than half an hour organizing stacks of old books when Cade and Devlin came bursting in through the main doorway, Briant and a few other men on their heels. The noise of their sudden arrival echoed throughout the great hall, and I wondered what was going on.

  Casting me a disturbed look, Meghan set down the small pile of paperback novels she’d been sorting through and stood, striding to the door as the men continued to argue over something. Curious as usual, I followed after my friend.

  “This is the fourth attack in less than a month,” an unfamiliar man was saying, his voice clipped and agitated. “When are you going to do something about it?”

  “Right now,” Cade answered just as fiercely.

  Briant and Devlin exchanged looks.

  “What’s this now?” Meghan wondered aloud, stepping farther into the entrance hall.

  Cade lost a little of his fierceness as she moved to stand by his side.

  “Nothing. Just another incident in Kellston.”

  Meghan furrowed her brow and cast her eyes on the men who had followed her husband into the castle.

  “And you expect him to do something about it now? Have you not noticed the massive storm building on the horizon?”

  My friend lifted a palm and gestured toward the windows.

  I took the time to look as well and felt a slight jolt of shock course through me. The dark clouds that had been hovering for days, neither growing nor shrinking in size, had suddenly grown thicker. Something about them made my stomach curl in unease. Darker than any storm cloud I’d ever seen before, and stretching high into the sky like a column of ash rising from a volcano, the thunderheads exuded an unnatural menace that set my blood cold and my dormant glamour tingling.

  “Damn,” I breathed, stepping closer to one of the windows flanking the castle’s front door. I shot my head over my shoulder. “When did that happen?”

  Cade’s deep voice cut across the room. “It’s very common with these types of storms.”

  I blinked at him, then turned questioning eyes toward Meghan. Her lips were drawn tight, her face paling ever so slightly. Okay, so she wasn’t going to tell me. “Devlin?” I pressed.

  His eyes were just as hooded. Well, fabulous. What would it take to get a straight answer from them?

  “Ever since the demise of the Morrigan,” Cade said, his voice rough, “our storms have grown more dangerous. Not all of them, but every now and again, something like what’s brewing outside will spread over the land. A horrible mix of foul weather and dark magic. It’s similar to a thunderstorm, but worse.”

  “It’s as if the dark magic gives it a life of its own,” Meghan added, her voice slightly strained. “Where most storms build up to a certain point, and then release their fury, the ones fueled by the residual magic left by the
Morrigan grow to incredible strengths before breaking against Eile.”

  As if sensing they were being discussed in a negative manner, the black clouds demonstrated their irritation. A flash of lightning bathed the world in brilliant white, ripping a small scream from my throat and causing everyone standing in Luathara’s entrance hall to balk in fear. The hair on my arms stood on end, and I could feel my glamour flailing around in its eggshell deep in the center of my chest. A peel of thunder, strong enough to make the stones beneath my feet vibrate and the windows rattle in their frames, followed about a half a minute later.

  I sucked in a breath of air and turned wild eyes onto Meghan. I had learned about calculating the distance of a thunderstorm in one of the stories we’d read in middle school. Every second you counted between seeing the lightning and hearing the thunder equaled one mile. The storm was still thirty miles off. How the hell was that possible? That lightning had been bright enough to be directly overhead, and I was still waiting for the walls of Luathara Castle to cave in on us from the thunder.

  “I’m sorry, Lady MacRoich,” the man with the complaint grumbled in a shaking voice, “but we managed to catch a live one this time, and I’m not sure how long we’ll be able to hold it. The approaching storm only seems to be making it stronger and more volatile. Since Lord MacRoich knows a thing or two about faelah, we were hoping . . .”

  The man’s voice trailed off, no longer flippant and demanding. As he stood waiting for an answer, I studied him out of the corner of my eye. He looked young, maybe ten years older than me, and he had pale brown hair and grey eyes. The other men with him, three in all, varied more in age, and I wondered if some of them were Lorehnin like me and Devlin. Two of them were dressed in the casual clothing I’d seen some of the older Wildren wear in the Weald, while the man who had voiced the complaint was dressed more formally. The fourth man had on brown pants and a stained linen shirt with long sleeves. In his hands, he held a woolen hat, his grip so tight, his knuckles had turned white.