Book Read Free

Luathara - Book Three of the Otherworld Trilogy

Page 27

by Johnson, Jenna Elizabeth


  "Whoa! Meghan dear! What's amiss?"

  I felt the heavy weight of his arms wrap around me, one of his hands patting me on the back.

  "Your young man here woke me from a dead sleep. Has the Morrigan attacked?"

  Without thinking, I peeled my head back and blurted, "She has Aiden! The Morrigan has Aiden!"

  Confused cornflower blue eyes regarded me for a few moments.

  "Aiden?" the Dagda said.

  I bit my lip. Stupid emotions. I guess I should have thought this through before assuming that Danua wouldn't care if everyone knew about her other child.

  "Aiden is my son, Dagda, born of the same father as Meghan. Like my daughter, we hid him in the mortal world, conveniently within Meghan's own family. The Morrigan somehow discovered this and passed through the dolmarehn, taking him from his foster parents. She holds him hostage here in Eile."

  I felt all the muscles in the Dagda's arms grow stiff, then he cursed.

  Danua sighed deeply, her age showing on her face for a split second, then lifted her clear, ocean-colored eyes to Cade's foster father. "We no longer simply have a war to fight, but we have a rescue mission to attempt as well. I suspect the Morrigan wishes to keep Aiden as a way to bait Meghan and myself."

  The Dagda carefully set me down, then crossed his arms. He furrowed his brow in that all familiar thinking stance I had often seen him in, then took a deep breath and released it.

  "The others will have to be told. And we cannot make any plans until we know exactly what we're dealing with."

  Danua nodded grimly.

  "We'll have to create a distraction," Cade added, resting his hands on his hips and letting his head hang low.

  After a while he glanced up at me, his emerald eyes gleaming. "If anyone knows how to antagonize the Morrigan, it's me. Besides, she isn't exactly pleased to know that my death didn't stick. She'll find it hard to concentrate on the big picture with me standing in her trail and reminding her of her weakness and failure."

  "No," I blurted, stepping forward and grabbing onto Cade's arm. "No, you will not offer yourself up as bait."

  "Meghan, we need a diversion," Cade said in a lower voice. "I'm the best candidate besides you, and there is no way-"

  "Enough!" Danua said, throwing her arms in the air. "We will not discuss this any longer, not until the rest of the Tuatha De get here."

  She picked up a large bell and rang it twice. "Now, let's have something to eat. Meghan and I had some tea, but we'll need several more pots soon."

  In the next breath, a door at the side of the room swung open and two male servants came in carrying a tray. The tantalizing aroma of savory stew and fresh bread filled the room and soon our worries were set aside as the four of us paused to eat. I couldn't put Aiden from my mind, not entirely, but it was nice to have a distraction if only to let my emotions take a breather.

  "Caedehn," Danua said looking up from her meal, "did you relay my message to all my guests?"

  Cade nodded. "They told me they'll be down as soon as they can."

  "What about Enorah?" I asked, suddenly remembering Cade had wanted to check for her.

  "Not here yet. I'm guessing she had a slower time getting away from the Weald than us. I expect she'll arrive by tomorrow at the latest."

  I nodded, but before I could get back to my meal, the door burst open again and in strode Epona and Nuadu, followed by Lugh, Goibniu, Oghma, Cernunnos and a few others. I gritted my teeth at seeing the god of the Wild, his magic flaring in my chest as it recognized his presence.

  "What is the meaning of calling us all together on such short notice?" Lugh wanted to know. "Has the Morrigan struck?"

  With all the grace she possessed as high queen, my mother calmly explained the situation, and as the details of her story unfurled, the tension in the room wound tighter and tighter.

  When she finally finished with her tale, Nuadu spoke up, his voice silent but resonant, "Well then, there is no question as to what we must do. We must try and rescue the child."

  I nearly melted in relief. I'd been so afraid they would meet our dilemma with anger and dissidence.

  "It is clear she has tossed the first stone. Now we must prepare for war, as soon as possible," Epona said, pounding her fist against the table.

  "Yes, it's inevitable, but let's go about this with as much reason as possible," Lugh added. “If we pool all of our resources and gather all the men and women willing to fight, we still stand a poor chance against the Morrigan and Donn and their army of faelah.”

  Cade's grandfather looked at me. "While you and Caedehn were away, we sent word to our people. We won't receive as much help as we'd previously hoped."

  The room burst into worried argument, and I felt my magic stir in response to the frustration permeating the air. My own panic was threatening to overtake me. When Cade and I had left Erintara, I'd been convinced we stood a decent chance. Perhaps that was just another silly daydream on my part.

  "Each of my men is worth fifteen faelah!" Bowen yelled angrily, his voice carrying over the commotion.

  In the aftermath of everything that had happened since the night of the dance, I'd almost forgotten about the young man. He now sat next to his father, his dark eyes looking like they were on fire, his handsome face twisted with annoyance.

  "And how can our combined power not be enough to defeat two Tuatha De?" Epona asked, her pale, flyaway hair taking on a life of its own.

  "And what about my brother?" I added, but no one, except for Cade, heard me.

  Lugh lifted an arm and tried to shout above everyone. “Wait, quiet, please! I’m not finished.”

  Reluctantly, everyone quieted down. I shot my mother a glance. She sat regally, looking cool and calm, but her fingers were hooked around the ends of the armrests on her chair, her nails practically digging into the wood. I knew exactly how she felt.

  “The Morrigan alone we could handle. As everyone knows, she recently spent most of her power trying to destroy Caedehn and Meghan. She is weak, but she has two advantages over us. First, she has Donn's aid. The Lord of the Afterlife has been soaking in his glamour for centuries, allowing it to build up and become a nearly unstoppable force. He hardly ever uses it, and frankly, he really doesn't need to use it. If we assume he has given most, if not all, of his power to the Morrigan, then we have good reason to worry. Secondly," he took a deep breath, one I doubted gave him much relief, "she has the high queen's son. If we value his life at all, then we must act more carefully than before. Despite these obstacles, however, we do have a few things at our disposal.”

  And then the golden-haired god turned his gaze onto the Dagda.

  “My Spear contains a bit of power, but not nearly enough to help us much. And I will need it during the battle. But Dagda, your Cauldron, it has been absorbing Eile’s magic for centuries, probably longer than Donn has been storing up his own power.”

  Cade tensed up next to me and a knowing stillness permeated the room. Wait, what was going on?

  “Until recently. I used it a few months ago to restore Caedehn."

  "But it still contains an incredible amount of fae magic, am I correct?"

  The Dagda sat up a little straighter in his chair and said carefully, his tone harder than usual, "Yes. What exactly are you suggesting?”

  Lugh sighed and took the time to look at everyone sitting at the table. When his pale eyes met the Dagda’s blue ones once again, he drew a deep breath and said, “I am suggesting that we borrow the magic from the Cauldron to strengthen the natural magic of our soldiers.”

  An audible, unanimous gasp played across the room, but no one dared speak their opinions.

  The Dagda’s jaw worked and I could tell he was fighting against some emotion.

  “If you take the magic out of the Cauldron,” Nuadu, said carefully, his deep voice rumbling through the silence, “then it cannot be used to regenerate the dead.”

  Now I understood the reason for everyone's reaction. And now I knew why I could
feel my own blood growing cold.

  Nuadu continued to run his fingers up the stem of his goblet. He looked up from what he was doing, his dark brown eyes troubled. “You would be able to make our men and women harder to kill, but once they died, they would stay that way. You know the Cauldron would never regain enough power in time to save them.”

  “Exactly how long would it take, to absorb enough power from Eile to work again?” my mother asked, her voice containing the slightest shake.

  I trained my eyes on her. I was wondering the exact same thing.

  The Dagda folded his hands and then pressed his mouth against them. I had never seen him look so troubled. Finally, he took another deep breath, cast a regretful glance in my direction, and said, “A few hundred years.”

  The room burst into conversation, partially angry, partially frantic. All I could do was sit there, numb. When my brain started working again, all I could think about was the epiphany I'd had the other night; the realization that we always had the Cauldron to fall back on. But if the Tuatha De agreed to drain the vessel's power, then the one thing I was counting on would no longer be available.

  “Stop!” Lugh shouted, his frustration gradually transforming into anger. “We have no other choice!”

  “Yes, we do!” Epona growled, standing up to face off her fellow Tuatha De. “We fight, as we are, with the power we have, and then use the Cauldron to regenerate those who fall!”

  From the far end of the table Nuadu started chuckling, but it wasn’t the laughter of someone amused. No, it was the laughter of someone who pitied others for their ignorant foolishness.

  “Don’t you get it?” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “This isn’t a band of renegade Fomorians like the last time. This is the Morrigan and Donn. The Celtic goddess of war and strife and the god of the dead. If we don’t borrow the magic from the Cauldron before this war starts,” he continued, his voice growing in power, “then there won’t be enough of us left standing to drag the dead into the Cauldron to bring them back. We ourselves, the Tuatha De, could be weakened so severely we might not be able to rise from the ground for several days. By then it will be too late!”

  A hush fell over the room as everyone absorbed what Nuadu had said.

  The Dagda cleared his throat. “He is right. We have a better chance draining the magic from the Cauldron and dispersing it amongst our people now, than if we wait and try to revive them later. It is the only chance we have of freeing your son.”

  He lifted his eyes and gazed directly at my mother, sitting at the head of the table. He was imploring her, his queen. He and Lugh and Nuadu had laid it all out before her. They had been honest and done their best to come up with the strategy that would be the most likely to succeed. They were telling us, telling Danua, that the only chance we had against the Morrigan and Donn was to pull the power from the Cauldron and to give it to those who would be fighting. It meant they would be more powerful. It also meant that they had no chance of survival if they were struck down. But they were leaving the decision up to her. Perhaps this conversation would have ended differently if the Morrigan hadn't taken Aiden, but I couldn't let that distract me now. We had absolutely no way of knowing Aiden's safety would have been part of this whole mess. Well, at least I had no way of knowing.

  The Dagda released a great sigh. “We have to accept that there will be sacrifices. But I’m afraid it is the only way.”

  Suddenly, the part of me that wanted to believe them because they were far more experienced at warfare than I went into hiding, and my emotional side clawed its way free for a split second. No! I wanted to shout. No, mother, don’t agree to this! Fortunately, my rebellious thoughts stayed in my head.

  It took Danua a long time to respond to the Dagda, and I could only imagine what was going through her mind. We were not only fighting this war because the Morrigan insisted on it, but because she had something that was precious to the high queen and myself: Aiden. If the Morrigan didn't have my little brother, would this choice be easier for her? Whatever my mother decided, would she fear her personal attachment had driven her to that conclusion? I wanted to save Aiden more than anything, but the Cauldron had proven to me once just how important its magic was.

  Finally, she squared her shoulders and glanced around the room. “Very well. We will go forward with the plan. We will utilize the magic stored in the Cauldron, and pray that it is enough to defeat the Morrigan.”

  “No!” I cried out, standing up out of my chair.

  My protest went unnoticed, for I wasn’t the only one to make an outburst. Everyone, save for my mother, the Dagda, Nuadu and Lugh had burst forth from their chairs, shouting or protesting in anger or disbelief.

  Cade, who had remained sitting next to me, tried to draw me back into my seat, but I shrugged off his hands. We could not borrow the magic from the Cauldron. What if those who had less magic in them, everyone except for the Celtic gods, fell in battle? They would die; they would be lost forever. Enorah, Cade . . . No. I gritted my teeth and fought the panic rising in my chest. No, they couldn’t take away the one thing that would keep Cade alive if he was lost in the fight. I couldn’t watch him die. Again.

  My magic flared in response to my emotional state, and that’s when it hit me, above all the clamor and chaos, one resounding thought broke free. Cernunnos's magic Meg, the secret you’ve been keeping all this time . . . perhaps now is the time to speak of it. You can use your extra magic and the Tuatha De won't need to drain the Cauldron of its life-giving force. Cernunnos had said I couldn't tell any Faelorehn men or women, but the Tuatha De weren't technically Faelorehn, were they? And neither was Cade. He was the son of a goddess and the grandson of Lugh. Maybe that's why Cernunnos had been so adamant about reminding me who I couldn't tell. Perhaps he was trying to give me a hint. My eyes grew round and my hands, which had been clenched at my sides, stopped shaking. I licked my lips and opened my mouth to speak, but the words got caught in my throat. Something, instinct perhaps, stopped me short.

  And then some unseen force made me whip my head around, my eyes hooking onto an earth-brown gaze. Cernunnos. Amid all the gesticulating arms and booming voices, Cernunnos sat in his chair, as still as a hunter in the forest, his arms crossed and his eyes trained on me. He didn’t send any words into my mind, something I was expecting at this point. He only kept me still with that death glare of his, his mouth cut in a grim line, and gave a small shake of his head. I knew what that meant. No, not now. Not yet. Remember, you must visit the Morrigan's lair first. I didn’t hear the words, but I knew he would have said them if he needed to.

  I fell back into my seat, dropping my face into my hands in despair. No. This had to be the time! It had to be! They could use my extra magic instead of the Cauldron’s.

  No Meghan, that rich voice whispered across my mind, my glamour isn’t nearly vast enough to replace what the Cauldron can provide.

  I wanted to scream and leap across the table. I wanted to take those stupid antlers and twist them and break his neck. But I couldn’t. He was immortal, in the most permanent sense. He could not be killed, no matter what. He was one of the elite few who would never die, even if taken down in battle or overcome by disease. My anger flared then, and so did my magic.

  Calm down Meghan, do not let my power unfurl. Do not break your geis.

  He sounded concerned this time, as if he really cared about my well-being. But I couldn’t help that my magic was getting out of control. I was so angry. And it was so unfair.

  Meghan! he shouted into my mind, and I jumped this time, lifting my tear-stained face to look at him. He was glancing off to the side, but his jaw was tight, his face strained.

  Do not lose control. I understand your pain and anguish, but you will have your chance to prove your worth yet, I promise you that. Do not give up the fight now. You are stronger than that!

  His silent words hit me like a slap, not because they were harsh, but because they mirrored the very words my own mother had spoken to me
only a few hours ago. Suddenly, I felt my magic draw back as my nerves calmed. At first I thought it was Cernunnos helping me along, but then I realized it was me. He was right. Danua was right. I was stronger than this. After living for seventeen years in the mortal world, oblivious to the life that waited for me in Eile, I had somehow overcome all my weaknesses and had proven myself capable of defeating every challenge thrown my way. Yes, this current obstacle was bigger and far more terrifying than all the others put together, but really it was my own terror that acted as a barrier. I could not let my emotions, my fear, rule me; I had to be practical; I had to figure out a way around this difficulty.

  Cade distracted me from my internal pep-talk by pulling me close and stroking my hair.

  “Hush, Meghan, hush,” he crooned softly into my ear. "Don't be upset."

  Easier said than done, I thought. Then I gave myself a mental shake as I absorbed Cade's comfort. Time to be strong Meghan, remember? I reminded myself.

  I gave Cernunnos’s words some more thought and as my tears dried up and the shaking stopped, I realized his reminder had reawakened my determination. Fate was trying to steamroll me again, but I wouldn’t let it. I felt helpless and frustrated and angry, but I would take those emotions, give them their chance to run their course, and then I would stiffen my spine and face this thing head on. We were going to war, sooner probably than later, and we were going to drain the Cauldron of its power so that we had a better chance of winning. Several people would die, and we would not be able to bring them back. One of those people could be me, or Enorah, or Cade. I would just have to accept that. But I couldn't forget, I had that extra magic hidden away, and Cernunnos assured me I would get my chance to reveal it to help those I loved. All I had to do was stay strong, trust that he was telling me the truth, and trust myself that I would know when it was time to let my magic free to enact its wrath upon the Morrigan.

  As Cade rocked me gently, and as my mother and her fellow Tuatha De, the gods and goddesses of the Celts, continued their out of control argument, I breathed in deeply and told myself that I would, somehow and someway, defeat the Morrigan and get my brother back.

 

‹ Prev