by Amy Sumida
“Who's that?” I asked Re.
“Oh,” Re made a sympathetic sound. “That's Morvran, the Celtic God of War.”
“Morvran?” I gaped at Re. “As in the guy who killed Morpheus' brother?”
“Oh right,” Re grimaced. “I forgot about that. Yeah, that's him.”
“Does Morpheus know him?” I looked around the ballroom anxiously, trying to spot Morph.
“I don't know,” Re looked around too. “He doesn't seem to have noticed him,” he nodded to where Morpheus sat, surrounded by Intare and the goddesses they'd collected. “And with that group of goddesses around him, I doubt he will.”
“Let's hope not,” I glanced back at Morvran and found him glaring at me. I blinked in shock and looked away, completely unprepared for the visual assault. “What the hell?” I whispered under my breath.
“What?” Re looked down at me in concern.
“He just gave me a nasty look.”
“Who; Morpheus?” Re asked in shock.
“No, Morvran,” I corrected. “I've never even seen that guy before. What's his problem with me?”
“I don't know,” Re looked over to the massive Morvran. “But he's not a god you want upset with you. Perhaps after this dance we should approach him.”
“Are you kidding me?” I gaped at Re and then remembered how I'd just been thinking about befriending gods before we fought. “Well I guess it couldn't hurt.”
But after the dance finished, Morvran took Eztli back to her seat and then he swiftly exited the ballroom... giving me a few more nasty looks as he went. I decided to just let him go instead of trying to chase after him. So Re escorted me back to our table.
“What has you looking so upset?” Odin followed my gaze to Morvran and his eyes widened. “Oh, that can't be good.”
“I didn't think it was,” I sighed. “Maybe I should start keeping a list of gods who show signs of hating me. Then we can refer back to it whenever we have nameless foes pursuing us.”
“Nameless foes?” Azrael chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we do get a lot of those.”
“Zey don't stay nameless long,” Kirill looked around the room thoughtfully.
“You need some names?” The woman who had carried Eztli into the ballroom was suddenly standing beside our table.
She was darkly beautiful, as Eztli was, but in a different way. Eztli had the striking features of an Aztec but this woman looked more Arabic. She reminded me of one of the rainbow gods I'd had trouble with in the future.
“Yours would be good for starters,” I said as I held out my hand. “I'm Vervain.”
“Oh I know,” she smiled wide and shook my hand. “I'm Elena,” then her face fell into the blank expression I knew so well.
“Your the psychic,” I hissed and pulled my hand away.
“Sorry,” she blinked back to awareness. “I didn't do that on purpose.”
“Just don't tell me,” I huffed. “I don't want to know.”
“Don't worry, there's nothing to tell,” she grimaced. “Actually, maybe you should worry because there's nothing to tell.”
“Why do psychics never speak plainly?” Odin lamented to the flower bedecked ceiling.
“I...didn't...see...anything,” she said slowly. “You have no future, Godhunter. At least none that's fated. Everything is up in the air,” she chuckled and looked over the midnight wings Azrael had out on display. “Some of it quite literally.”
“No fate,” I frowned. “The Fates would disagree with you.”
“You've met the Fates?” She whispered in awe. “Wow. What were they like?”
“They're...” I shrugged. “Nice. Well, one of them is at any rate.”
“They're nice?” Elena huffed. “Really? That's all you got for me?”
“Okay, so there are three of them,” I offered. “And they're each different. Lachesis is intense, Clotho is sweet, and Atropos,” I glanced at Re. “Well, I think she'd be kind of in the middle if she didn't hate me so much for dating Re.”
“And you say they saw a future for you?” Elena mused. “Like an actual path?”
“Yes but they say it's a touch wrong,” I admitted. “It has to do with something I did in the future. I messed up somewhere and a god who should have been killed, wasn't.”
“Yes,” Elena looked thoughtful. “Luke told you of the vision I had?”
“Yep.”
“That war could have been prevented by a single death,” she went on. “Which means that you have a single enemy... at least for the moment.”
“Can you tell us who they are?” Odin asked.
“No,” she frowned. “If I do, it will have disastrous repercussions.”
“So you know,” Azrael narrowed his eyes on her.
“I don't see anything in my visions but I have a strong suspicion,” she admitted. “However, I'm not one of those psychics who goes around tossing prophecies about willy-nilly. I always look ahead and this time, it's best for me to keep silent.”
“Is there nothing you can tell us?” Re angled his way forward and gave Elena a breathtaking smile.
“Uh,” she stared up at him like a new convert. “I... uh,” she cleared her throat. “Give me your hand.”
Re held his hand out to Elena and she took it, holding it between both of hers as she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, let him go, and stepped back.
“Yes,” she said to him with a sweet smile.
“What?” Re looked baffled.
“I answered the question you were actually asking,” she shook her head. “What a shame, she gets all the best ones,” then Elena walked away.
We all stared at Re but he wasn't looking at us. His attention was focused inward.
“Re?” I laid a hand on his arm. “What were you asking?”
“I don't-” he blinked and gave a little huff. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Odin mimicked. “Care to share?”
“Nope,” Re started to smile and then the smile spread until he was beaming.
“Vell at least he's happy,” Kirill huffed. “I don't know vhy she vouldn't tell us who ve are up against.”
“That would make things too easy,” I watched as Elena took a seat beside Eztli. She looked up at me suddenly and gave me a wink. “And my life is anything but easy.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
The next morning, I went back to Faerie to see my sons and my fey husband. I could stay away much longer than I had but I hated being separated from my babies and I never managed to make it further than a few days. So I crept out of bed and gave Odin a kiss on the cheek, pulling the comforter up around him. I could control the weather in my territory but it was still subject to the conditions of the part of the God Realm it was in. The God Realm was just like the Human Realm in as much as the seasons and time affected it unless some serious magic was employed. We were laid over the Earth and revolved around the Sun along with it.
Luckily, my territory corresponded to somewhere in the middle of Africa, so our climate was always comfortable and since I did control the weather, I prevented any dry spells that Africa experienced. That being said, the mornings could get a little chilly in comparison to the rest of the day. So I tucked Odin in, knowing I'd be back before he even moved much but still wanting to be sure he was warm. I hurried to use the bathroom and get dressed. If I left before anyone woke up, they wouldn't even know I'd gone.
I used the Ring of Remembrance my fey father had left for me, to travel back to the time and place I'd last left Faerie. I took shape in the bedroom I shared with Arach, and now Dexter again, in Castle Aithinne.
“I missed you,” Arach said as he came up behind me and kissed my shoulder.
“I missed you more,” I turned to give him a better kiss. “Anything happen while I was gone?”
“Yes,” he said with absolute seriousness. “I blinked.”
“It's been a long day for you,” I recalled that we'd just returned from the Water Kingdom when I had left. “Are you too tired to welcome me
back in your usual way?”
“I'm a dragon,” he scoffed and pulled me into his chest. “Enough said.”
He leaned down and I felt the heat rising inside him. My own dragon rumbled in response, anticipating the fire he was calling forth. I opened my lips to him, sealing our mouths together as flames rushed from his throat into mine. I drank down his fire and felt it empower me, reviving me in ways that mere air could not. I paid him back in full, calling up my own flames to send into him. I felt his body shiver with the rush of it and he moaned.
“Rian!” Granuaile; a fire-sidhe and one of the many nannies helping to look after the royal babies, shouted and startled us out of our kiss.
We turned toward our open bedroom door just as Rian went flying by in his dragon form, a giggling Brevyn in his grip. Dexter jumped out of his bed and went running after the twins.
“Rian no!” Granuaile ran by.
“Not again,” I sighed as Arach and I joined the hunt.
We caught up with them at the railing which overlooked the circular central stairway. The stairway was a cylinder that ran the full vertical length of the castle. Rian angled into the passage and headed up it. Dexter took the the stairs and raced after the boys while Granuaile and I followed.
“Rian!” I screamed and heard an answering yip. “You bring your brother back here this instant!”
“Rian!” Arach's shout thundered upwards.
Arach was not running with us any longer but simply standing at the railing and glaring up the stairwell with his angry-daddy expression. I came to a screeching stop, grabbing Granuaile as I did so. Right; royal parents didn't chase their children all over the castle. That would be unseemly. Throwing them out a window was fine though. Yes, I'm still bitter over that.
A little whine echoed down to us as I headed back to Arach with a confused Granuaile in tow.
“Don't make me chase you, Patanli!” Arach leaned over the railing and pointed aggressively up at our circling sons.
“Patanli?” I whispered to Granuaile, who was wringing her hands beside me.
“Oh,” she blinked her violet eyes rapidly at me. Her skin, the color of ripe wheat, was damp with sweat and her daffodil hair was clinging to her face in spots. “Um, it means; young or offspring. Little one.”
“Ah,” I nodded as the cries of our little one echoed closer and closer.
I looked up to see Rian hovering before us. Arach held out his arms and Rian dropped Brevyn into them. I rushed forward and took my son, who had lost his blanket during the flight and was only clad in his little faerie diaper. The moss we lined it with was starting to fall out the sides. I tsked and carried Brevyn back to the nursery as Arach disciplined our other patanli.
“Don't think you're blameless in this,” I said to Brevyn as Dexter caught up to us. “I know you encourage your brother.”
“Is he alright, My Queen?” Granuaile asked as she followed after me nervously.
“He's fine, Granuaile,” I reassured her. “No one blames you.”
“Oh, thank you,” she let out a relieved sigh. “Prince Rian just shifted and grabbed Prince Brevyn before I could do anything.”
“I suppose we should be grateful he didn't leap out the window,” I grimaced.
“Oh, I had the shutters closed and barred,” she waved her hand towards the window as we walked into the nursery. “I was afraid of that very thing.”
“Then you're smarter than I am,” I smiled gratefully to her. “Well done.”
“Thank you, Queen Vervain,” she gave me a pretty curtsy.
“We'll have to keep the door shut too it appears,” Arach growled as he came in with a naked Rian hanging over his arm.
He took the baby to the changing table and put a new diaper on him with surprising efficiency. I took Brevyn over to the rocking chair by the window and stared thoughtfully at the barred wood. Dexter came to sit next to us and scraped a horn dolefully against the dismal shutters.
“Perhaps we should have some glass installed,” I mused and then saw Arach's horrified look.
“Like humans?” He asked as Granuaile bowed and made a hasty exit.
“Only for the time being,” I reassured him. “We can't have the children living in this dark room and we won't be able to open the window until Rian becomes more dependable.”
“We have lights,” he waved towards the fey globes hovering around the ceiling.
“You know what I mean,” I gave him my new mommy look.
Arach took a deep breath and picked up Rian. He carried him over to his diamond, bowl-shaped crib and placed him on the thick mattress inside. The silence stretched on as he flipped a lever that had held the inner bowl still and then gave it a push, setting it to swirling inside the outer bowl.
“Alright,” he finally said as Rian murbled and then settled down. “I'll have the pixies do it.”
“Thank you,” I looked down at Brevyn and found him watching me. “And you, little godling,” I kissed his nose. “You need to pick your magic. You can be whatever you wish, Brev. You can hold the magic of fire or healing or growth.”
“Growth,” Arach grumbled.
“As in plants,” I made a face at him.
“What would a fire prince want with plants?”
“Plants are good for everyone,” I chided. “And we're faeries, remember? We like nature.”
“We are fire faeries,” he corrected and came to stand beside me. He looked down and spoke to Brevyn. “We like fire. Fire is good for nature too, it fertilizes the soil.”
“Don't pressure him,” I growled and then returned my attention to Brevyn. “You can hold whatever magic you wish. Just follow your heart... but please don't be psychic,” I whispered the last part to him and kissed his forehead.
He laughed as babies do and laid his little palm to my face. My belly clenched, thinking my son already had a twisted sense of humor and was going to show me yet another vision, right after I'd specifically asked him not to be psychic. But it wasn't a vision at all.
I felt a familiar pull and my arms automatically tightened around Brevyn. The air rushed out of my lungs and a tingling pressure filled my body until I became pure thought. I went soaring through the Aether, Brevyn and I, and reformed with a gulping inhale of air and a harsh thump as my butt hit the ground. The cold ground.
“Son of a-!” I shouted and then glanced down at Brevyn. “Son of a dragon,” I looked closer at the fading glow in his sapphire eyes. “No; son of a goddess. What have you done, Brev?”
I peered around and found us to be on the top of a mountain. I wandered to the edge and stared down at a dramatic drop that ended in a little town. A human town. We were somewhere in the Human Realm... where Brevyn had never been. So how the hell had he traced us there? How had he traced us period?
And he had traced us. I was certain of it. He had pulled me with him through the Aether and brought us out here. But where was here? I stared thoughtfully at the town and the cliffs that penned it in. It was frigid but lush, a verdant growth covering the mountains nearly up to their icy peaks. On the valley's floor, right in front of the brightly lit town, there was a lake; a wide swath of deep blue water whose purity was evident even from where I stood.
Brevyn gave a little happy cry, waving his arms about, and I looked back to him in wonder. How had he done it? Most gods had to be taught to trace, and even then, it was at a much older age than Brevyn. For a baby to manipulate the Aether was not only unheard of, it was impossible. And yet, there we were.
I turned and took in the wide meadow I stood in, ringed by straight-trunked trees. Then I stopped. There, through those unswerving trunks, I could see a house. I headed towards it, maneuvering through the thick underbrush easily, even while holding Brevyn. Being a faerie had some definite perks when it came to nature.
I came out into yet another clearing, this one boasted a rustic table with benches, set beside a fire pit. I headed around them and up to the back door of the modest home. It was painted a cheery white with
rust colored tiles on the roof and a matching russet trim around the windows. I walked up a little set of steps as Brevyn grew more and more excited, swinging his fists about and gurgling.
I knocked on the back door. No one answered but I hadn't really expected anyone to. I had a feeling that this home was deserted, it's owner absent for quite awhile. The yard was nearly as overgrown as the surrounding forest and the porch was littered with leaves. I peered into the windows but couldn't see much beyond the drawn curtains. Brevyn laughed and slapped me accidentally, startling me enough that I bumped into the door. Something fell off the door ledge and bounced at my feet. I stared down in shock at a key.
“Did you...?” I gaped at my son but he just gurgled up at me. “Holy hand grenades,” I whispered.
I bent and picked up the key, then slipped it in the lock. The door opened silently and the house was just as quiet. I closed the door behind us and wandered into an eccentrically decorated living room. There were large leather couches and thick rugs in several styles; Persian, Navajo, and Chinese. I padded across them to gape up at an elaborate crystal chandelier which looked straight out of Paris. Bookshelves were filled with objects from Russia, Africa, Mexico, Malaysia, and more. Masks hung on the walls; Japanese samurai glowered beside Venetian carnival smiles. It was such an eclectic collection but every piece looked valuable. Then I saw the photographs.
“Thor,” I whispered as I picked up a picture of Thor and I at our first Yule Ball in Asgard. I put it down and picked up another frame. “The God Squad,” we were all smiling at the camera, arms around each other. Morpheus, Katie, Torrent, Artemis, and Sarasvati were all missing, so I knew it was an older picture. I put it back on its shelf and went over to a snapshot of Sif. “Your mother,” I whispered down to Brevyn and swallowed hard, “in another life. And this is...” I picked up a picture of a blonde man holding a wood bow and staring sternly at the camera. His face looked familiar. “Who is this?” I pondered him until it struck me. “Oh, you're him. The father who left.”
