Spear Song

by Tricia O'Malley

  “Your words are only that – words,” Danu said, a smile briefly flitting across her face before she raised her exquisite chin high, her arms lifting above her head as she began to deliver her orders. “However, in this case, your power is yet needed in this world. You’ve a service to perform, and you shall do so, before I render my final decision on your continued existence in this realm. In lieu of instant mortality for having broken the most sacred of magicks to enter my sacred realm, for daring to touch and use my most enchanted of blood, I am commanding you, Lochlain, to join Na Cosantoir and to protect the Seeker, the third in this quest, and to ensure no harm comes to her until she finds the treasure. You will be allowed to live for the time being, until the bounds of the quest are met and the treasure is secured. At that point, I will decide upon your fate.”

  Surprise seized Loch as he realized the goddess was sparing his life – followed immediately by wrath.

  “You want me to follow some girl around to make sure she can find a treasure? But that is a mere soldier’s job,” Loch scoffed – then caught himself. Best not to be too arrogant. More time in this world would allow him to ensure that his mother was healthy and thriving.

  “Na Cosantoir is a great honor among our people, Lochlain. For generations Danula have sought this role to ensure the protection of our people,” Danu said, sounding as miffed as a goddess could.

  “For those with little power, yes, I can see the appeal of such a role,” Loch quickly amended. “However, my talents are better served in other areas.”

  Danu drew herself up and the temperature of the room dropped as her temper ratcheted up.

  “This is not a negotiation. You will do as I say or your life is null and void,” Danu said, crystals freezing on her breath and cracking in mid-air as her anger washed over Loch, causing ice to slick across his skin.

  “Yes, my goddess. My deepest apologies. I will ensure that this… Seeker… finds her way to the treasure,” Loch bit out, hating that he was being cursed with such a mundane task, far beneath his prowess as a high priest.

  “You do so. Or your life is mine.”

  In a cloud of ice crystals and magicks, the goddess disappeared, leaving Loch blinded as he stood gasping in surprise at the turn of events. When he finally dared to open his eyes, he grimaced.

  Before him stood a small village in the country, and more importantly, the arts and crafts store which he sensed held the Seeker he was to protect. Seeing several Star Wars posters, stacks of comics on tables in the window, and piles of notebooks, stationery, markers, knick-knacks, toys, and bits and bobs of lace, Loch shook his head in disbelief. This was his Seeker’s shop?

  Groaning, he settled in to wait.

  Chapter Three

  Gwenith Donovan turned the pages of the latest Marvel comic, her eyes tracing every illustration with awe as she cheerfully followed the storyline – even though she was getting a little tired of the sexualizing of the female lead.

  “I mean…come on. Does every woman in comics need to have a twenty-inch waist and boobs out to here?” Gwen scoffed to the cat sunning itself lazily in the window. “Don’t they know women can be badass warriors that come in all shapes and sizes?”

  Macgregor, her oversized tabby cat, slitted an eye open at her words. Seeing no promise of food, he stretched and went back to sleep.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. Sex sells.” Gwen waved a hand at the cat and went back to finishing the comic book, comfortable in her own skin and what she deemed a complete lack of sex appeal. She always envisioned herself kind of like a potato, lumpy and curvy and round. So very, very round. With a mass of curling red hair, which she pulled into a loose knot on her head most days, guileless blue eyes, and porcelain skin that betrayed her every emotion with the slightest flush, Gwen had stopped worrying whether she was sexy ages ago. It was much easier to maintain a cheerful life and live in her dreams than it was to repeatedly put herself out there and be found lacking by the men of her tiny village.

  “Still a good story. I’d give it seven out of ten,” Gwen decided. She slipped the comic back into a clear plastic envelope to protect its pages, and added it to her file folder holding this year’s editions of the series. She was always optimistic about the value of comics, proclaiming far and wide to all who would listen that someday she could sell them for thousands. Well, maybe hundreds, she thought with a snort, but at least it kept people from judging her collection too harshly.

  “Well, Mac, what’s on the agenda for today? Should we lock up soon? It’s a wee bit slow, though we’re finally getting some of that sunshine they’ve been promising us,” Gwen said, puttering around her shop and straightening this and that, humming the opening bars to Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On.”

  Perpetually cheerful, Gwen always had an optimistic viewpoint. Frankly, she couldn’t ask for much more – she loved her shop, loved her family, and even loved the tiny village she called home. There was nothing she wanted for; her needs were met and she was able to run a store surrounded by the things she loved every day.

  Some would point out that romance was missing, but Gwen had given up on that aspect of her life ages ago. Less to fuss about, she thought. And once she took sex out of the equation – not that she knew anything about it – she’d been able to have many great male friends in her life. Aye, her needs were met and she’d be hard pressed to complain about anything at all. For the most part, it seemed that sex and romance caused nothing but heartache and stress, and she had patted more than one friend’s back as they’d struggled their way through break-ups. Life would be so much easier if people stopped worrying so much about sex, Gwen thought, eyeing a stand of thank-you cards that needed to be rearranged. Within fifteen minutes or so, Gwen had sorted out her display of cards, rotating in new inventory, and stepped back to admire her work. With a glance at the clock, she decided it was time to call it quits for the day.

  Mondays were generally slow in the village, and even more so with a novelty shop. She should probably just close the store on the slow days, but Gwen so enjoyed being surrounded by the things she loved that she couldn’t quite bring herself to stay away. What else was she to do anyway? She already spent her spare time having a pint with friends or helping out a neighbor in a bind, watching their kids – no reason not to show up for an honest day’s work.

  But slipping out early also had its benefits – namely, her gran wouldn’t question where she was and she could work on experimenting with a little secret she’d discovered. Gwen clutched her hands to her chest and almost squealed in delight, except it would have startled Macgregor. She couldn’t even bring herself to say the words out loud, lest someone overhear it – lest it be taken away from her.

  But… she just might – Gwen bit back a giggle at the thought – she just might actually have a magickal power. Like a real-life comic book heroine! She paused and put her hand in the air – holding it up like Katniss in The Hunger Games and standing proudly. Oh yes, yes indeed, Gwen thought; she could get on board with this magickal power thing.

  “Time to practice,” Gwen said, going to the back of the shop and unlatching the small kitty door – but a mere hole with a door and a latch – that would allow Macgregor to wander up to her flat above the shop. Though she’d lived there for a few years now, happily puttering about in her little space, Gwen still checked on or had dinner with her Gran nearly every night after work. Family was family, and she sure did love her small family of Gran and her dog, Chauncy.

  She’d be sure to stop and bring Gran some of the cordial she fancied, Gwen decided, feeling a smidgen of guilt as she turned off the lights and locked up the extra cash from the till. It was truly the first secret she’d kept from Gran, and she wasn’t happy about doing it. However, until she wrapped her head around what she’d discovered, it was best that she remain silent.

  Plus, she wasn’t willing to share quite yet. For the first time in her very sheltered life, Gwen was anything but ordinary.

  And that was certain
ly worth holding onto for a little bit longer.

  Chapter Four

  Loch straightened from where he’d leaned against the wall of a chemist across the street from his Seeker’s shop. ‘This & That’ was the name lettered in bright gold on the window, and Loch scoffed. How was a body supposed to know what was sold there if the name of the shop wasn’t clear? This & That could be anything – at least with a supermarket or a chemist, a person would know what was inside.

  People veered around Loch, unable to see him due to a cloaking spell he’d used but sensing something was in their path anyway. Irritation built in him as he waited for the Seeker to emerge. Not used to waiting, Loch almost bounded across the street and pulled her out, but forced himself to hang back and watch. Best not to blow his cover, he thought, until he knew the lay of the land better, and knew what exactly he was dealing with.

  Which wasn’t a very bright-minded individual, Loch all but snorted. This & That. What a name.

  Loch watched as the door finally opened, something he’d expected moments ago when he’d seen the lights switch off. Restraint was not one of his stronger traits, but he forced himself not to react when he saw the woman step out of her shop and look around once before turning to lock the door.

  Why did she dress like she hated her body? Loch wondered. The women in his fae village prided themselves on wearing beautifully rendered clothing, cloaking themselves in silks and linens and acres of sparkling jewelry – the fae did love sparkly things. It would be considered an affront to the beauty of what they were to dress as if they disliked their shape.

  And, oh, was this woman shapely, Loch thought – at least from what he could ascertain from the baggy clothes she wore. Loose cargo pants were tucked into wellington boots and stretched across a curvy bum as she bent to latch the door, and when she turned, an oversized cream woolen cardigan hung open nearly to her knees, with a loose t-shirt proclaiming “The force is strong with this one” belying the ample breasts hidden beneath. Red hair – siren red, Loch thought, tucked so tightly on her head that he itched to pull the pins out and see it tumble down. What looked to be brilliant blue eyes completed the bedraggled look.

  Except for that mouth, Loch thought, unable to draw his gaze away from her cupid’s bow of a mouth, like an unplucked rose, plump and inviting against the porcelain of her skin. It was a mouth that was meant to be tasted, kissed until swollen, and then tasted once more. When a tug of lust tightened his chest, Loch was surprised at himself. Used to being highly sought-after in his world, he’d had more than his fair share of beautiful lovers – from timid and blushing to experienced courtesans. There was nothing commanding about this woman’s presence – if anything, it was as though she wished to blend into the crowd.

  It wasn’t often that someone, especially a human, perplexed him. Loch didn’t like it. He was used to getting a quick read on a person and understanding a situation immediately. His body’s response to this woman was anything but expected. Had Danu charmed him in some way so that he would be drawn to this Seeker?

  Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed seeing when the Seeker slipped abruptly into an alley, disappearing quickly from the hustle and bustle of the little village’s main street. Intrigued, Loch crossed the street and made his way down the alley. Though he couldn’t see her, it was as if he could track her in his mind’s eye. This was a well-known gift the Protectors were given, often spoken about in the fae world, and something he’d yet to experience. But now? He seemed to be almost mated to this woman, for he could follow her as though she’d given him explicit directions well in advance.

  To the water they went, both Seeker and Protector carefully making their way from the village, following a narrow, winding path that eventually fed out to a small sheltered inlet, one not visible from the village’s main wharf. Loch had to wonder why she came to this place – though it certainly was beautiful.

  It only took moments before Loch began to curse.

  Chapter Five

  “Now, let’s see if I’ve figured this out,” Gwen murmured, coming to a stop just short of the water’s edge. This little beach was a favorite of hers, known only to the locals, and not much longer than the width of her shop. Surrounded on all sides by land that rose far above her head, she had total privacy unless a boat motored past. If someone came down the path, she’d hear them pushing through the bushes long before they would see her.

  Gwen emptied her brain and worked on what she’d been reading about the use of magickal powers – essentially a mix of visualizing and feeling the outcome of what her wishes were. And her wish was to turn the water gently lapping over the pebbles at her feet into ice.

  Oh, but she’d been exhilarated the first time it had happened. She’d almost dropped the glass she’d been holding, she’d been so shocked, catching it an instant before it slipped completely from her hand. It had been one of those unseasonably warm spring days – highly unusual for Ireland – and she’d been sweating in her shop. Having taken off her cardigan, she’d looked at her water and said something along the lines of ‘if this was the States I’d have an ice machine for my drinks.’ Knowing the Americans’ love of ice, the thought had just popped up in her head.

  What she hadn’t expected was for ice to pop up in her drink as well.

  It was one of those quintessential life-changing moments she read about in novels, where nothing would ever be the same again, Gwen thought. She’d screeched, sending Macgregor skidding through the shop, then picked the fat tabby up to dance around in delight before setting him down to try to create ice once more.

  She wasn’t exactly proud of how long it had taken her to hone the ability, and after a few mishaps and one regrettable burst pipe, she’d learned to take the magick outside and practice in private.

  It still thrilled her, every time, when water solidified before her eyes as it did now. Where once the water had gently caressed the pebbles at her feet, now a thin layer of ice ensconced them, clear and smooth, looking for all the world like glass. Gwen clapped her hands in delight, looking down at the beauty of what she’d created.

  She had done this, Gwen thought, as she clasped her hands to her chest and twirled in delight. She, Gwen Donovan, had magickal powers like the warrior women in her comic books! Now, if only she could figure out the best use of her powers.

  When her eyes collided with another’s, Gwen squeaked. It was the only sound she could make as a man, seeming to glow with a silver hue, stepped silently from the bushes from where he’d been watching her. His eyes darted left and right, tracking her every move, and Gwen immediately realized he was danger with a capital D.

  “Um, hello, then. I didn’t see you there,” Gwen said, smiling and deciding to put on a cheerful unconcerned air, though her hand groped for the small knife she’d tucked in her pocket.

  The man said nothing, but he didn’t need to. His smile said it all.

  Gwen shrieked, pulling the knife from her pocket as he lunged for her, but already knew she wasn’t fast enough. She was going to fail, through her own fault, like the person who runs upstairs in a scary movie instead of out the front door. She’d cornered herself and hadn’t even had her protection accessible. It was her own damn fault if she died today, Gwen thought, then gasped when the man seemed to stop in mid-step, his eyes widening and his mouth open on a silent scream.

  Shocked, Gwen looked down to where an iron spike protruded from the man’s chest, silvery liquid seeping from the edges of the wound. In seconds, the man dissolved into a silver puddle of liquid at her feet, the now-thawed water swallowing the blood. Was it blood? Gwen dazedly wondered as she drew her gaze from the dwindling puddle across a pair of black-as-night boots, to well-muscled legs clad in the blackest of leather, up further past a muscled chest, to shoulders that nearly doubled the width of hers, and finally to a sharply angled face glaring at her in disgust.

  Oh, he’s the superhero, Gwen thought, the breath all but leaving her body as she met golden eyes – almost tawny like a ti
ger’s – and dark hair that her fingers itched to touch. A real-life superhero and he was here to save her.

  “Thank you,” Gwen said, swallowing against a dry throat and smiling up at the glowering stranger. “I’m not entirely sure what that was about, but as I’m certain he meant to cause me harm, I’m indebted to you for your help. It is much appreciated.” She wondered briefly if she should curtsy, but it seemed overkill.

  “You’re indebted? You have no idea what you owe me. You stupid twit, you could’ve endangered our very existence! What are you doing running around practicing your magick out in the open? Unprotected? You might as well be a sitting duck for the Domnua! Are you out of your damn mind? Of course they give me the senseless one,” the superhero muttered, beginning to pace as he shot her lightning bolts from under dark brows.

  Did he just call her senseless? Gwen felt her Irish ratchet up a bit at his words.

  “Excuse me – you don’t even know me, so you can’t yet decide if I am senseless or not. But I’ll be telling you that I don’t know what a Domnua is and I’m certain I wasn’t doing anything to draw attention to myself. So you can just calm down with this whole tough guy act, buddy,” Gwen snapped, her hands at her hips as she glared at him.

  “Lochlain – Loch, that is,” the man said. Distracted by his anger, he all but pulled his hair out as he ran his hands through it. What was he going to do with this twit of a girl? “This & That? What kind of name is that for a store? That doesn’t show much sense. Much like your practicing magick in the open. I forbid you from doing so again, unless you’d like to see yourself made non-existent.”

  “It’s a damn good name for a store that carries everything,” Gwen practically shouted at Loch. How dare he insult her store – her favorite thing in the world? “And I’ll be practicing magick as much as I damn well please, you overbearing bully!” With that, Gwen gathered all the still-untested power from deep within her and blasted him with a fury of ice. She gasped as it coated him from head to foot, freezing him in place, ice crystals forming on his eyebrows. Shocked, overwhelmed, and oddly giddy, Gwen half-screeched and half-laughed as she tore around the frozen superhero and ran up the hill, leaving him behind her to sort himself out.