by Amy Sumida
“Oh sure, now you want to move on,” I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, yes!” Guirmean exclaimed. “I nearly forgot; I've requested that Nainsidh come to the castle so you won't have to venture into the cities to speak with her. She should be arriving soon.”
“Nancy?” I looked to Arach.
“Nan-she,” he corrected my pronunciation again. “The bean-nighe we spoke to before.”
“Oh, wonderful,” I said sarcastically.
“You don't want to speak with her?” Guirmean was confused again.
“Oh, I see,” Nora laughed. “King Arach wants to speak with her but Queen Vervain is put off by Nainsidh's appearance.”
“Truly?” Guirmean was shocked. “But you are the Queen of the Hidden-Ones. Nainsidh isn't as horrifying as they are.”
“My fey are not horrifying!” I snapped and then covered my mouth with a hand. “Oh, I'm so sorry, King Guirmean. I didn't mean to yell at you.”
“Not at all,” Guirmean chuckled, “I admire a monarch who stands up for her people. Well done. But please be advised that I feel the same way for mine.”
“I didn't say one word about Nainsidh, that was Nora,” I pointed out.
“Yes, I was just warning you before you did,” Guirmean's eyes twinkled.
“He's right, I don't understand your reluctance,” Arach frowned.
“It's not the way she looks,” I sighed. “I just don't like being told about my future.”
“It's for our son,” Arach reminded me.
“Yes and I was willing to speak to psychics I already knew,” I huffed. “I just didn't want to add another one to the irritating list.”
“Well deal with it,” Arach declared, finally getting a human saying right.
“My King,” a selkie came into the dining room and bowed to Guirmean. “The bean-nighe is here.”
I groaned.
Chapter Eleven
They had put the bean-nighe in a room with a tile floor and it was immediately apparent why. I wasn't joking or even trying to be insulting when I'd said she was slimy. I was merely stating a fact. Nainsidh had left a trail behind her like a slug over cement. It led all the way to a marble bench set out on a wide balcony where she was sitting, looking across the Faerie Sea. A fresh salty breeze blew in through the wide arch framing the balcony but it was tinged with decay. The kind of decay you smell from tidal pools at mid-day. And that odor wasn't coming from the ocean.
“We'll be two doors down, with Lorna and Morgan,” Guirmean waved us into the room, the cowards. “Join us when you're finished with Nainsidh.”
“Thank you,” Arach nodded.
“Why do I suddenly feel like a Ghostbuster?” I sighed as we followed the slime to the psychic faerie. “I need a damn proton pack.”
“Behave,” Arach whispered. “She's here as a favor to Guirmean.”
“I know,” I grumbled. “But she could never be a ninja. I'm just saying.”
We went out onto the wide expanse of white stone. The balcony was bordered by a short wall which was carved through with intricate designs. The dazzling deep lapis of the sea shone through the cut-work like inset jewels and I stood in the archway admiring it for a moment while Arach moved forward to greet the bean-nighe.
“Breathtaking, isn't it?” She asked me after responding politely to Arach. “I rarely get to see it from this perspective.”
I remembered her gurgling voice vividly, even though I'd only met her for a brief moment. It was hard to forget a voice like that. It was pretty hard to forget her face too, though I'd only seen a portion of it. But what I'd said to Guirmean was the truth, her appearance wasn't really what bothered me. It was what she was capable of.
I knew that the future was malleable. If there was anything I'd learned from my recent trip there, it was that. But I also knew, through my interactions with Faerie, Alaric, and now the Fates, that there was a certain amount of destiny at play. I didn't like the idea of fate, it made me feel like I wasn't in control of my own life. And psychics were like Fate's spokespersons. I mean, look at the Moirai, their alternate title was the Fates. But now it looked as if my son was a psychic, so I guess I'd better get over my aversion to them.
“It is...,” I turned to her and had no problem looking her in the eyes or taking in her whole face, which was now fully revealed to me.
Last time we'd met, she'd been mostly covered by a slick shroud but today, the fabric was folded back so she could gaze fully upon the magnificent ocean stretching out to the horizon behind me. I recalled her stringy hair from before. How it was as dark as a murky pool and filled with little crustaceans, climbing and clicking their way around her skull. Damn that had to be annoying. How could she stand it? I'd have gone crazy, smacking at the little creatures until they either died or retreated. It was like a monstrous case of very loud lice.
I also remembered the single nostril of her bumpy nose and those wrinkled lips which hid a single tooth, top and center in her mouth. I remembered the thick but wrinkled texture of her skin, like an elderly walrus, and I certainly recalled her perfume; eau de decay. But the eyes were new to me and I couldn't stop staring at them.
I don't know why she hid them, they were so beautiful, they almost made you forget the rest of her. Luminous and sparkling, they seemed to shift like magic mist; not your ordinary gray fog but something full of power and life... and color, amazing color. There were twinkles of lavender, cerulean, and deep amethyst along with flashes of silver when the light shifted. They were mesmerizing eyes.
“Beautiful,” I finally finished my sentence but I wasn't sure if I was still talking about the ocean.
“Won't you join me, Queen Vervain?” She smiled and revealed her large tooth but now it seemed charming instead of sinister.
“Thank you,” I sat down beside Arach, who had taken the bench on Nainsidh's left.
“You want to know about your son; what magic he possesses and what you should do to help him,” Nainsidh said gently and suddenly, she seemed like a sweet grandmother to me.
“Yes,” Arach leaned forward. “Do you know? Can you see anything?”
“I see what's obvious to all who are smart enough to look,” she shrugged and little crab-like creatures scuttled around her head. They glistened in the sunlight like living jewels. She set those amazing eyes on me and did, in fact, state the obvious, “The Prince will be very powerful.”
“But how?” I asked. “What will his power be?”
“That is yet to be settled,” Nainsidh folded her dripping hands in her lap. Where was all that slime and water coming from? No, scratch that, I didn't want to know.
“By who?” I blinked in surprise. “Or how is it being settled?”
“By the Prince of course,” she chuckled.
“Excuse me?”
“Explain that, if you please,” Arach growled.
“You have given him a great gift, Queen Vervain,” Nainsidh smiled kindly. “You gave him a new beginning and access to your magic.”
“Yes,” I scowled. She wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know.
“And what is your magic?” She prompted.
“I'm the Goddess of Love, Lions, and the Moon,” I said immediately but before I was even finished, she was shaking her head.
“That's the magic you acquired,” she corrected me. “What is your magic; the magic you were born with? What did your birth bring into being? What can you do that no other goddess can?”
“Well... I can take magic from another god,” I frowned. “But that's something any witch can do.”
“Is it now?” Nainsidh giggled.
“It isn't?” I gaped at her.
“Have you ever met another witch who could?” She lifted a wet brow and a drop of slime slid down her cheek.
“I've never asked them about it,” I mused. “I only know a couple of witches and I'd never want to encourage them into placing themselves in harm's way by telling them they could take a god's power. One of them has children. S
he can't risk herself like that.”
“Queen Vervain,” Nainsidh chuckled and shook her head at me, just like a chiding grandmother. “You've known about this ability for years and you never questioned it? You never thought to research why you have it or consult with other witches on it?”
“No,” I whispered. “I just assumed-”
Nainsidh's cackle cut me off and I made a face at her, like any sullen child would.
“My birth brought this ability into being?” I mused. “So you're saying that the way Odin placed my soul into a human to be reborn, changed me somehow and created a new magic?”
“Odin's touch, the strength of his love, gave you power over gods,” she nodded, “not your witch blood. Consider what a witch is; a combination of fey essence with a human soul. Faeries have no power over gods so why would a witch?”
“Because gods have been taking our magic through sacrifice for centuries,” I huffed. “I'm simply taking it back. I'm the Source of their magic and-”
“You are hardly the Source of their magic,” she chided me.
“All humans are,” I corrected myself. “Thor even told me it was why gods are attracted to witches; because their magic recognizes us as their Source.”
“Thor was speaking of theories, he has no facts. I may be speaking in theory as well but I do know for a fact that witches are humans with bits of fey essence woven into their blood. Gods took sacrifice from humans, who have energy to give, pure energy. The gods used this energy to fuel their magic. But witches, they have their own magic, magic that can't be given to gods because of where it's from. Gods are attracted to witches because they're on the opposite side of the magic spectrum,” Nainsidh explained. “Our elemental magic calls to their spiritual magic. But I suspect that Thor was attracted to you for other reasons entirely,” she gave me a wink.
“So my ability to take a god's magic?”
“Something new entirely, just like you,” she smiled. “I may be wrong but I believe it was the combination of all factors of your birth which gave you your magic; a repressed fey essence, a witch mother, a human soul and body carried by a god and put into place by god magic. Magic sometimes twists into its own patterns, makes its own choices. Yours chose to give you many choices.”
“Well, son of a centaur,” I whispered in shock. “I didn't see that coming.”
“I did,” Nainsidh laughed.
“Let me clarify,” Arach cut in. “Because Vervain has the ability to take any magic she wishes, a very unique ability evidently, Brevyn now has the opportunity to chose which magic he'll hold?”
“Yes, Fire King,” Nainsidh nodded. “At the moment, your son holds only the gift of knowledge; wisdom of the past, present, and future. The Prince can see in all directions but that will only last until he has chosen. It's the magic's way of giving him all the information he needs to make a decision.”
“Magic is providing my son with the knowledge needed to pick the best magic?” I huffed. “That seems a little circuitous.”
“It's pure energy right now,” Nainsidh shrugged. “The potential of magic, if you will. It's waiting to be formed and helping Brevyn's choice in any way it can. Energy wants to live and it wants to be as powerful as possible.”
“So he won't always be psychic?” I felt an immense relief. I knew how hard the gift could be on a person, Rain complained about it often enough, and I didn't want that for Brevyn.
“He's not exactly psychic right now,” she pursed her lips in thought. “He's wise, far-seeing, but yes, that will all stop when he makes his choice.”
“He's shown me things,” I persisted.
“He's sharing with you, helping you and hoping you'll help him,” she said. “You must guide him as any mother would guide her child.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” I huffed.
“Vervain,” Arach took my hand. “We're his parents; we will guide him.”
“I didn't mean you, King Arach,” Nainsidh said gently. “I'm sorry, but it's the Queen who must guide your son. In this, he'll listen only to her.”
“Ridiculous,” Arach bristled. “I'm his father.”
“She is the source of this potential magic,” Nainsidh explained. “So it will be she whom he'll look to. A mother shares a bond with her children that's very different from that of the father. It is simply nature. We hold them within ourselves. A man can never truly know what that feels like; to have conscious life grow within you.”
“I don't know how to help him,” I whispered as my heart began to race.
“You know him like no other,” she said confidently. “Trust that knowledge; of what he was and what he wanted to be. Trust yourself, Godhunter, and lead your son to his magic. There are no wrong choices, no paths are set for him. You've given him what you've always wanted; the freedom to choose.”
“But he should choose for himself,” I shook my head.
“And he will,” she reassured me. “Haven't you been listening? He will make the choice. You need only to guide him.”
“Okay,” I sighed and looked over to Arach, who was staring at me with absolute faith. “Okay,” I said in a steadier voice. “I'll help him as much as I can.”
“There's no rush,” Nainsidh smiled. “He's just a baby. There's plenty of time to choose... and you might think of using this time to make the best of Brevyn's current gift.”
“You're suggesting I use my son's sight?” I blinked at her.
“Let him guide you as you guide him,” Nainsidh shrugged. “You're here asking me for my sight, why is it any different to ask your son?”
I looked over to Arach and he shrugged. Why indeed?
“One other thing,” I said. “Speaking of guidance. My star has been broken and it's been difficult to control my beasts at times. Brevyn calmed them by showing me an image of my nahual. Do you know why?”
“Why it worked?” She clarified.
“Yes,” Arach answered for me. “She was being torn apart internally and then Brevyn touched her and showed her the jaguar and an image of the altar where she left her nahual. That calmed Vervain's animals.”
“I thought it was because my nahual previously united them,” I offered.
Nainsidh closed her eyes and inhaled deep before opening them to answer, “No.”
“No?” I blinked in surprise. “That's all you got for me?”
“You'll find the truth, the way has already been cleared for you by another sister psychic, but it's not the time for that yet,” Nainsidh sighed. “Your beasts will rage and you will have moments when you despair, but you will survive, Queen Vervain. You've controlled your animal aspects in the past, you can do so again. It's just in moments of distraction that your control is weakened and tested. They are as any caged beast, ever looking for a way out. They will test you, test the bars, but you're strong. I don't have to tell you that. You wouldn't be sitting beside this man now, if you weren't strong.”
“Indeed,” Arach smiled at me proudly. Damn dragon.
“Great,” I sighed, ignoring the compliment. “So now I'm a cage.”
“You're their home,” she corrected. “But when that home is in disorder, it can feel like a prison. Strength is needed to control them, yes, but also kindness. You're taming yourself, after all. Remember that they are pieces of you.”
Chapter Twelve
We visited with Guirmean, Lorna, Nora, and Morgan for an hour or so after Nainsidh left. Morgan was starting to walk and his mother thought this was a sign of true greatness. I had smiled to myself, wondering if I was going to be as ridiculously proud of my children. Then I'd sobered, thinking that teaching Brevyn to walk was going to be so much easier than teaching him which magic to choose. And hopefully both of those lessons would be far less dangerous than teaching Rian to fly.
On the ride home, I was silent and Arach left me to my thoughts. He was good like that, sensing what I needed and when I needed it. I think it came with sharing blood. It gave us glimpses into each other's minds. So Arach
stayed silent too and I was able to ponder Brevyn in peace. I thought about Ull, who he had been. Ull had been the God of Justice and Oaths but also of Archery. I remembered him telling me once that his birth father (not Thor) had been a great hunter. But Ull hadn't liked hunting. Come to think of it, he hadn't much liked judging people either.
He had owned a law firm but never visited it. I think he assumed he needed a business aligned with his magic. It did make him loads of money but it was never important to him. With a blink of epiphany, I realized that Ull had been unhappy. That was why he wanted to be reborn. He wanted a clean slate, a fresh shot at the magic roulette wheel.
So what magic would Ull truly want?
I decided it would be better to think about the true Ull; his soul. Who was he really? I thought back to our time together and came up with a clearer image of my friend. At his very foundation, Ull had been a kind man. He had loved to laugh more than anything, a trait that made me feel a kinship to him. We had speculated together once that both of us had the capacity to bring humor to any circumstance. I'd been known to make jokes while being tortured. It sounds horrid but he understood. He'd said to me “I get it, your wit is a weapon. They can take your knives from you, they can even subdue your claws, but they can't take your comedy. You'll live your life in laughter, right up to its end, and damn anyone who tries to stop you.” And he was so right. You could cut out my tongue and I'd find a way to mime my jokes, just to spite you.
But Ull wasn't just a jokester. He was a fierce fighter and there were complicated reasons for that. He had learned to fight because he believed in peace, not because he craved war. He'd loved his mother and mourned her death but I think he'd done so more out of a sense of duty than emotion. It was Thor who was his true parent. So ironic, since Thor didn't share any blood with Ull, but very telling in what kind of man Ull was. He'd chosen to be nurtured and guided by a moral man instead of being influenced by his mother's maliciousness and the pain of an absent father.
