Though it had seemed otherwise, it wasn’t really their incarnates who had helped them but hers.
“I do love a good riddle,” Adlin chimed in, looking at her fondly. “Mayhap, now I know who I inherited that from.”
“Riddles indeed.” Grant eyed Destiny. “So the gem made sure Chara and Marek not only found each other again but that the riddles made it from one life to the next, too?”
“Not entirely,” Leviathan said. “For there was a powerful blade at work in all that too.”
A blade, as it happened, that was a surprise unto itself.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“THE DAGGER DESTINY used to kill Chara was made by an Ancient?” Marek frowned, remembering clearly the unique blade that scarred him in a dream in this life and killed him and Chara in their previous life. “That was made by an Ancient dragon? Leviathan’s kind?”
“It was,” Destiny confirmed. She pulled it out of a sheath they didn’t know was there. “It was given to me by my mother.”
“Loki’s cock.” Leviathan narrowed his eyes and closed the distance. “I could not see it so clearly before. Might I hold it, woman?”
“The name’s Destiny, but yes.” She held out the hilt of the burnt, lethal-looking thing. Lacking elegance or fine lines, it almost appeared bloodstained. “But I warn you, it's...different.”
Clearly surprised by its weight, Leviathan muttered a few select words in Norse when she handed it to him. His dragon eyes flared as he held the dagger up and looked along its blackened metal. In what seemed a direct response to his actions, Marek’s Viking sword crackled with lightning.
“This is no average blade.” Leviathan glanced from Marek’s sword to the dagger. He inhaled the metal’s scent before pulling back sharply. “You should not have been able to wield this demi-god.” When Destiny offered no response, his gaze cut to her, his tone sharper still. “Do you hear me, woman?”
“I did, man,” she snapped, taking the blade back. She sheathed it in a knee-high boot. “And wielded it well enough to get Marek and Chara out of their last life in enough time so they could harness the power of the gem undetected.”
“How did it infiltrate our dream in this life?” Marek frowned and touched his scar. “Did you somehow throw it? And for what purpose?”
“No, I didn't throw it.” Destiny shook her head. “As I hinted at when we talked about this before, the blade that hit you in your dream was but an echo of the real one. An echo left in the land of the dead, therefore yet another tool at my father’s disposal. One, unfortunately, that finally found you in a dream, giving him a better sense of your location. That, though it happened years later, in reality, sparked the beginning of all this, and the rings were created.”
“Damn,” Chara whispered.
“What does that blade mean to you, anyway, Leviathan?” Grant asked, still focused on the Viking's strong reaction to the dagger. “Why should Destiny not have been able to wield it?”
“Because it’s forged in fire,” Leviathan said darkly. By the way his gaze lingered on where Destiny had sheathed it, one had to wonder if he were more interested in the blade or the leg attached to it. “Not any fire either, but the fire above all fires for dragons. Deep core flames at the heart of dragonkind’s homeworld, Múspellsheimr. Along the lines of the molten core that makes Midgard spin, yet even more powerful.” Though obviously awed by the blade, he frowned. “No Celtic demi-goddess should be able to carry this dagger safely. Especially not if she’s infected with love.”
“Infected?” Destiny said dryly, despite her own claim that it had felt like a sickness. But then she clearly didn’t see it that way now. “Is that what you call all this? Marek and Chara coming back together? The result of an infection?”
“When I first arrived, I was under the impression that you somehow chose the Brouns this time,” Leviathan murmured, on his own page. “But it was the dagger. Its magic.”
“That I don't know,” Destiny replied. “If it did, such was well beyond my control. That sounds more like Fate's long arm, considering the blood relation between the Sigdirs and MacLomains.”
“Heck of a long arm,” Chara remarked.
“All that matters right now is that ‘twas a Sigdir blade before it found its way to Destiny.” Adlin looked at the goddess. “Go on, lass. Tell us what happened next. After you knew ‘twas too late.” He cocked his head. “For you realized the moment Chara took matters into her own hands that you only had one course of action, aye?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes damp again. “I had to kill them before my father could. I had to give them half a chance.”
“And the dagger did that,” Grant said, “when combined with the power of the gem?”
“Yes,” Destiny confirmed. “But then the gem was always a piece of her horn...the piece of magic that first connected her with Marek. That soaked up a love strong enough to sustain time.”
“It was a piece of my horn?” Chara exclaimed, putting the pieces together. “You mean that first burst of gold dust when I met Marek in our last life?”
Destiny nodded. “That dust connected it all. The gem, plus the golden clovers and what you two shared.” She shook her head. “A love so great my father wouldn’t have been able to see what came of it even if he tried. It was too pure. It’s magic far too different than his own.”
“So ‘twas, as most would imagine, in part, the gem that started it all,” Adlin mused, reflecting on the gems in so many Claddagh rings over the years. “Yet one that didnae end up matching the wizard's eyes.”
“No,” Destiny concurred. “Rather, it reflected the color of the magic, that one way or another, would lead to all MacLomain wizards. Magic created by true love.”
“I like that.” Adlin grinned at Grant. “And it makes sense, aye?”
“Aye,” Grant agreed.
“What happened next?” Chara looked from her ring to Destiny. “What happened after Marek and I died?”
“Simply put,” Destiny replied, “damage control and one hell of a game plan.”
Adlin’s chuckle died under everyone’s frown. “Och, ‘tis not a bad thing to keep a wee bit o’ humor in all the bleakness.”
“You always did think so,” Grant commented.
Adlin nodded. “And with good reason.”
Grant nodded as well, eyeing a sunray with distrust only to relax when it didn’t whisk him away.
“Tell us more about this damage control of yours,” Adlin prompted Destiny. “And your game plan.”
“I was trying to keep Marek and Chara’s souls free of the Brotherhood’s ritual,” Destiny explained. “A ritual that used the unicorn’s sacrifice to harness the power they needed to connect to Adlin's conception at the Stonehenge. That connection, of course, allowed them access to Adlin’s lineage when the time was right, so they could take over the MacLomains, and eventually wipe them out.”
“Why not just stop Adlin’s conception when it happened?” Marek asked. “Why wait generations? Was it all a matter of the dagger hitting my temple in a dream to get things started?”
“Yes and no,” Destiny said softly. “At the beginning, it was me, my blade, and the gem.” She gazed at the horizon as though peering back in time. “I was able to harness enough power to protect Adlin’s conception and set a timer, so to speak. One that would give Adlin time to flourish and grow his clan.” She sighed. “But it was always only ever a timer. Eventually, what I created the day you and Chara died, along with what I helped the Guardian Witches and Goddess Étaín do, would come full circle, and the Brotherhood would have their window of opportunity.”
“And that clock ran out when the dagger found Marek in a dream, and these last five rings were created,” Adlin surmised. “It was time for the couples who had influenced the rocks at the Irish Stonehenge to come together. Most especially the couple at the verra heart of it all.” He eyed Marek and Chara, marveling at it all. “Though there have been other contributing factors over the centuries, th
eir gem definitely influenced future Claddagh rings, aye?” The octave of his voice dropped as he saw it clearly enough. “The gem that started it all shall finish it all.”
Destiny nodded. “In essence, yes.”
“’Twas a mighty feat you accomplished, Destiny,” Grant praised. “But then your position as death’s daughter made you uniquely qualified, did it not?”
“It did,” she confirmed. “The spell I cast at the Stonehenge used as much dark magic as light. My own powers as a goddess as well as dragon magic. It was the only way I could hide what had happened there from so many.” She shook her head. “Though they’ll likely know once all is said and done, Fionn Mac Cumhail and the other gods affiliated with the Stonehenge over the years don’t even know what happened there.”
“What did happen there?” Chara prompted. “After you freed mine and Marek’s souls from darkness, what happened next?”
“I went into hiding before my father destroyed me for betraying him,” Destiny replied. “He might’ve gotten what he needed from the unicorn, but he was denied the consumption of a Fianna soul, not to mention that of a unicorn.” Disgust flashed in her eyes. “The last unicorn to boot. Chara’s essence would have given him tremendous power.”
“That’s awful.” Chara shivered. “He sounds super-nasty.”
“He has his moments.” Destiny grimaced. “Anyway, once his plan was launched, mine was too. So I had to get out of there and set the next stage of my plan in motion. That meant traveling back in time and seeking out the Guardian Witches and Goddess Étaín.”
“I’m surprised they were willing to help you,” Adlin said. “Considering who you are.”
“It took some serious convincing,” Destiny replied. “But when I told them the whole story and what I hoped to accomplish, most especially all the love and good that would come out of it, they agreed.”
“That’s when you orchestrated the whole Tiernan’s-tattoo-and-five-stones-from-the-Stonehenge thing, then?” Chara guessed. “Which is essentially the final countdown in what was originally a much larger countdown.”
“When you put it that way, yeah,” Destiny said. “Though the Brotherhood eventually discovered that some of the stones had been moved to Scotland, it didn’t matter. The couples coming together over the centuries in Ireland had already been fueling those rocks.”
“Shadow rocks,” Grant murmured, getting it. “The originals were moved to Scotland and New Hampshire, but it didn’t matter. The ones in Ireland were, through magic, their twins, thanks to a ceremony performed by you, Étaín, and the Guardian Witches.”
“Yes,” Destiny confirmed. “Using an unknown piece of the sacrificial table, and my dagger that had touched the original couple, plus Étaín and the Guardian Witches’ power at the solstice, we performed a ritual that essentially brought all of us to this point.”
“Bloody impressive,” Adlin praised. He cocked his head in question. “What unknown piece of the sacrificial table? I take it ‘tis not the piece in New Hampshire?”
“No, that might’ve been too easy for the Brotherhood to detect,” Destiny replied. “So, I broke off a second piece.”
Grant hesitated, thinking, before he figured it out and grinned. “Why ‘tis the infamous Stone of Destiny, aye?”
She met his grin. “You got it.”
“Ha!” Adlin beamed. “Brilliant!”
Chara couldn’t help but grin as well, a little perplexed. “So, you named it after yourself?”
“No, I’m not that arrogant.” Destiny chuckled. “At least not anymore.” She shook her head. “No, somebody else named it down the line, though I suspect the magic attached to it might have influenced things.”
“The magic attached to it.” Leviathan looked at her as if he’d just figured out a multitude of things. “Magic that was in part yours, dragon goddess.”
“Yes.” Destiny perked a brow at him and frowned, clearly not sure what to make of his new title for her. “Pretty sure we already established that.”
“Ja.” His gaze narrowed. “Yet now I sense your dragon magic remains intact, where your goddess powers continue to wane.”
She said nothing for a moment, as though it were difficult to confess, before she nodded once. “I’m afraid they are.”
“From the moment you made contact with us in our first life, aye?” Marek saw it clearly enough now that Leviathan had pointed it out. More so now than ever, something appeared to be changing about Destiny. She seemed less vibrant somehow.
“Yes, the more magic I use,” Destiny went on, “the more I let go of my inner goddess.” She shook her head. “I’m not entirely sure why either, only that it has to do with the love I let in. Of all the gods, its very element is the antithesis of the God of Death, and I come from him.”
“So, what, you’re becoming less of a god?” Chara frowned. “Because of what you did for us? For the MacLomains?”
“It’s the very least I deserve considering I led my father to you,” Destiny replied. “I have no one to blame but myself, Chara. Surely you see that.”
“I see a goddess who completely reformed herself and did so much good in the process,” Chara replied, upset. “You shouldn’t be punished for that, Destiny. Technically speaking, all the good wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t do the bad stuff first. Hence your whole yin and yang revelation.”
“That’s why I was given the message that there was still hope for you,” Leviathan said softly, yet again on his own page as he continued eyeing Destiny.
But then, as they soon learned, his own page was very relevant.
Chapter Thirty
“WHAT?” CHARA EXCLAIMED, frowning at Destiny. “Tell me Leviathan’s wrong. That before all’s said and done, you don’t intend to forfeit the last of your magic along with your life.”
“I can’t say how things are going to go,” Destiny said softly. “Nobody can.”
Chara narrowed her eyes. “You’re lying, aren’t you?”
Destiny was about to respond but paused and cocked her head as if listening to something. Moments later, they all felt it.
King David’s retinue was in trouble.
Chara’s heart leapt into her throat. “Is it the Brotherhood?”
Destiny didn’t answer, but then she didn’t need to. Chara suddenly felt the darkness closing in en masse. The terror it brought with it. She and Marek swung onto his mount and pursued the other two, only for Destiny to stop short mere minutes later and call everyone to a halt.
“What is it?” Leviathan frowned at her. “Why did you stop?”
Chara went perfectly still when Destiny turned her mount slowly and narrowed in on her and Marek. Leviathan followed her line of sight and did the same. Half a breath later, she didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know why they looked so alarmed. She felt it.
Marek.
He was possessed.
His mind didn’t feel like he’d gone into a trance but vanished altogether. His warmth at her back took on a frigid chill before the air around them turned arctic.
“Did ye think we would not find ye, daughter?” Marek’s voice was gravely and different as a blade came to Chara’s throat. “That the activation of that blasphemous gem would not give yer stink away?”
“I counted on it, Father.” Destiny shifted closer to Leviathan and murmured something under her breath before she slowly started their way. “I see ye’re every bit the coward I remember, hiding inside others.”
“Because of ye,” he growled, pressing the blade to Chara’s neck so tightly it stung. “Because ye’re every bit the lecherous bitch yer mother was.”
“But smart,” she chided, moving closer still. “Smarter than you ever were. For, just look at what’s become of ye. Hiding and seeking, skin-walking as though ye were a lesser god. As though ye were nothing but a mere mortal.”
Done with banter in record time, he roared in animalistic fury, clearly about to slice Chara’s neck, but Destiny was faster. Viking dagger in hand, s
he began chanting in some sort of ancient dialect. An ugly sounding language as dark and dismal as what slithered out of Marek and passed Chara.
The blade at her neck fell away.
She barely breathed as the dark mass moved like oily fog toward Destiny.
It had to have been a summoning spell of some sort because seconds after Destiny tossed the dagger to Leviathan, the darkness whipped into her.
She’d pulled the darkness out of Marek and into herself.
“Go,” Leviathan roared at Marek and Chara as he headed towards Destiny. “Get to King David!”
“We can’t...he can’t...” Chara shook her head. “No, you can’t kill her, Leviathan.”
But he could with that dagger and suspected Destiny had asked it of him.
“No, I do not think he can.” Destiny’s voice was as dark as Marek’s had just been, her eyes black as night when she focused on Leviathan. Donn Fírinne, God of Death, clearly spoke through her. “She chose unwisely asking this dragon to take my life.” A slimy grin slithered onto her face. “For he cannot see past the visage he wishes to conquer. The lust he feels for my worthless offspring.”
“I can see just fine.” Leviathan’s gaze narrowed, his dagger at the ready. “I can see you’re every bit the coward your daughter thinks you are. Hiding rather than showing yourself.”
When Marek growled and swung down from his mount, eager to attack and have his retribution here and now, Leviathan shook his head sharply in warning.
“Don't do it,” Chara said into Marek's mind. “This has to be the moment Destiny and Leviathan warned you about. The retribution you shouldn't seek on your own.”
“But he's right there!” Marek held his Viking sword at the ready. “The creature who took you from me in another life is ripe for the taking.” Fueled by hatred, dragon fire mixed with black in his eyes, and he spoke aloud. “I could end him at long last.”
The God of Death grinned at him, not threatened in the least. Rather he fanned the flames of Marek's sudden vulnerability. “Yes, embrace that hatred, warrior. Remember how good it feels and let it in.”
A Scot's Retribution (The MacLomain Series: End of an Era Book 5) Page 19
