I arched an eyebrow and folded my arms over my chest, mimicking her as I leaned back into my own chair. “And you, the high queen of Eile, do have that spare time?”
She smiled again. “Of course not. But being the high queen has its perks. I don’t have time, but I have spies. Those I send out to take a closer look at the details my brethren have missed.”
She held up a hand when I opened my mouth to speak. “I am not saying they are neglecting their duties. Not at all. What I am saying is that there is more than the occasional faelah attack going on in Eile.”
Again, my nerves began to prickle, and I sat up straighter. “What do you mean? What have your spies discovered?”
She sighed, looking suddenly weary. The joy from earlier, the happiness she had been so willing to show her daughter, faded, and the burdened queen beneath the relaxed façade shone through once again. “I can’t say for sure. My spies report back with news of hooded men and women meeting in secret, of a force or presence they can feel more than see. Like a giant bell struck with a hammer. The peel gradually tapers off, but you can sense the reverberation lingering far longer than the actual sound itself.”
“Surely, you have some ideas,” I murmured, the tension in my nerves moving again to my stomach and causing my dinner to churn there.
Danua lifted her stormy eyes to mine, their tone changing so quickly, I couldn’t name the colors.
“Yes, I do. And the only reason I am sharing this with you at all, and not the other Tuatha De, is because you are the only other Faelorehn I know of who might have the answers I need.”
My jaw clenched at her words. I had feared this moment. Ever since I watched Meghan destroy the Morrigan on that hilltop, witnessing my hag of a mother disintegrate and become lost to the wind, a tiny part of me still clung to the possibility that none of it had been real.
“I suspect that even though the Morrigan is defeated, her magic and her followers have managed to live on. From what my spies tell me, her dark influence continues to linger in our world, keeping to the shadows and waiting out our paranoia until a time arises when they can join together once again and attempt to succeed where their mistress failed.”
I let out a mild curse and drove my fingers through my hair. This was exactly what I had feared these past several months. And I understood why Danua wouldn’t want Meghan to know. She would only blame herself; convince herself that if she had tried harder, been more careful, maybe she could have erased the Morrigan’s magic instead of just focusing on destroying her physical form. The high queen was right. Meghan couldn’t know any of this. At least not now, not until she had to.
“You need me to keep a lookout for signs of her particular brand of evil, don’t you?”
Danua nodded grimly, her fingers wrapped around the edges of the armrests of her chair.
“Do you think you can do this, Cade? Without tipping Meghan off?”
“I can try, but she will have to be told eventually, if what you say is true and if the many factions loyal to my mother grow in power. She will notice if that happens, and I want to keep as little from her as possible.”
The high queen nodded. “That is fair. I am in this with you, Cade. I want to protect my daughter as much as you do.”
“I know,” I answered tiredly.
For several minutes, we simply sat there, absorbed in our own thoughts. Danua seemed less tense now, as if by telling me and knowing at least one other person besides herself and her spies had this information, eased her in some way. That made sense. And she was right. I was the best candidate, besides maybe Enorah, for recognizing my mother’s dark magic.
“Well,” Danua finally said, rising from her chair. “I should probably bid you goodnight. I will walk you to your room.”
I rose as well, feeling more anxious than I’d like to. I wanted to go to my chamber, take Meghan in my arms and simply hold her until the feeling went away. This was supposed to have ended with the Morrigan, this nagging shadow of doubt and fear that had crawled into my mind and latched on like a leech since meeting Meghan three years ago. We had fought for our lives, both of us losing them in one way or another. We had made sacrifices and had survived the worst the world had thrown at us, and in the end, we had persevered. Now, Danua was telling me perhaps we had lit the celebratory bonfire a little too early. We had reveled in our joy and relief while the things of evil stuck to the shadows cast by the flames, gathering around in the dark as we celebrated on, oblivious to the danger.
When I finally made it back to my room, I’d managed to calm my glamour down to a low, smoldering simmer. Meghan had picked up on whatever subtle hint of worry Danua had been giving off earlier that evening, her behavior had suggested as much. If I were to step into our chamber radiating agitation, anger and fear, she would know for certain something was wrong. I opened the heavy oak door slowly, and it moved on well-oiled hinges.
To my surprise, the apartment was steeped in darkness, only the soft red glow of coals radiating from the hearth lending any light to the room. Meghan, I soon discovered, was in bed, fast asleep. Part of me was relieved. Despite my own assurance that my glamour was under control, I wasn’t so sure Meghan would believe me when I told her everything was well as I held her close. Another part of me, perhaps an even bigger part, was painfully disappointed.
Selfish man that I was, I longed for her touch and warmth. Deciding that sleeping next to her was as close to that comfort as I was going to get, I quickly stripped out of my clothes and slipped under the sheets beside her. My weight made the mattress sag, and Meghan stirred, mumbling in her sleep and rolling over so that she curled up next to me. I angled myself just right, so her head came to rest against my chest and her smooth skin came into contact with mine. Smiling, I pressed my face into her hair and breathed deeply, her scent and calm glamour settling my own tumultuous magic, transforming the roaring lion into a contented, sleepy kitten.
As I lay there in the dark, listening to Meghan’s deep breaths and running my fingers delicately through her hair, I thought about my discussion with Danua and all the prospects the future held for us. It was very possible another war loomed on the horizon, one which promised just as much danger and sacrifice as the last one. But maybe, just maybe, we would catch this new, burgeoning threat before it had the chance to bloom into something much worse.
As of right now, Danua only had suspicions, and those suspicions could simply be the side effects of lingering fear. Nevertheless, I would remain vigilant and do as she asked. I would pay attention to every misfortune that befell Luathara from this day forward. Every accident, every report of foul play, no matter how miniscule. There would be much work for me in the future, but if that meant keeping Meghan and the people of Eile safe, then I wouldn’t mind putting in the extra hours. I knew what it was to taste the paralyzing fear of believing the one you loved the most had been taken from you. I would not let myself feel that again.
Taking a deep breath, I trailed my hand down Meghan’s bare back, thrilling in the soft sounds of contentment escaping her parted lips. Time to turn my thoughts toward a more pleasing subject. Meghan and I had a wedding to plan, one that would be taking place at Luathara in a matter of weeks. I sighed once more, a small smile playing on my lips. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever hoped for such happiness. Not only had I been granted the gift of Meghan, with all her beauty, strength and courage, but I had been given the chance at a new, wonderful life with her. I would not take that for granted, and I would do everything in my power to bring her all the happiness and joy she deserved.
As the coals in the fireplace burned down to ash, I simply lay there next to my faeleahn, my eternal lover, and drifted slowly, blissfully, off to sleep.
Epilogue
Wedding
MEGHAN
A quick, efficient knock at my bedroom door snapped me out of my reflection. I was standing in front of the tall mirror in the corner, the late afternoon light of May flooding the chamber with its cheer and warmth.
It took me a while to remember what I had been thinking about. Oh yes, the dress. I simply could not stop staring at myself in it. I was by no means a vain person, but the gown I wore now, my wedding gown, was unlike anything I had ever seen in my entire life. Although clearly a garment of the Otherworld, this dress had been inspired by those found in both Eile and the mortal world. The cobalt bodice was form-fitting and strapless, and sewn into the fabric were thousands of tiny, multi-faceted sapphires, their rich blue color burning like azure fire when I stepped into the light. The skirt flared from my hips in elaborate folds and pleats; a waterfall of rich, vibrant ultramarine. I swayed like a bell, grinning brightly as the priceless fabric rippled in perfect unison with my movements.
Danua had insisted on helping me choose a dress, since I had insisted on having the ceremony at Luathara Castle. The day before Cade and I left Erintara for home, she had dragged me to one shop after another, never pleased with any of the gowns the seamstresses brought forth. I followed along as patiently as I could, claiming I didn’t care what dress I wore just as long as it fit me. It wasn’t until the very end of the day when Danua spotted the sapphire silk and taffeta gown. We had both gazed at it in stupefied wonder. The seamstress had taken my measurements and promised my mother she would begin alterations right away. Three weeks ago, the finished product had arrived at Luathara, and it fit like a glove.
Now, I stood entranced before my mirror, wondering how the odd girl from Arroyo Grande had become the elegant princess staring back at herself in stunned disbelief. I reached up a hand and touched my jewelry, still expecting to awaken from this wonderful dream. Diamond teardrop earrings hung from my earlobes, and a matching necklace adorned my throat, falling just below the torque Cade had given me back when I still lived in the mortal world. My hair had been pinned up elegantly, and just the right amount of makeup brought some color to my pale face.
I blinked at my reflection, my Faelorehn eyes shifting from one color to the next. I tried to get them to settle on a blue shade to go with my dress, but my nerves were too wired. In less than an hour, I would be Mrs. Caedehn MacRoich, Lady of Castle Luathara. During that hectic stretch of days, when Cade and I had traipsed about the countryside, spreading the word of our upcoming wedding, I didn’t have a nervous bone in my body. Now that the day had finally arrived, I was ready to fall to pieces.
That insistent knock sounded again, pulling me from my reverie a second time.
“Come in,” I breathed, my voice weak and wistful.
The door cracked open, and someone wearing a dress in regal tones of silver and dove grey slipped inside.
“You look absolutely beautiful, Meghan.”
I jumped and whirled around. My mother stood across the room regarding me with appreciative eyes.
“Danua,” I said, “Mother.”
I tried on a smile. We hadn’t seen one another since Cade and I visited Erintara in mid-March, and I thought she looked a little more strained now than she had then. Maybe she, too, was nervous about the upcoming ceremony. I was her only daughter, after all. Or, perhaps, it was something else. Either way, I hoped she would take a break from being the Otherworld’s sovereign for one night and enjoy herself.
She started moving forward, her arms outstretched. Knowing this was her way of showing affection, I took her hands and leaned in for a delicate hug.
When we broke apart, she stood regarding me for a while.
“Are you nervous?”
I nodded, then stopped myself. The last thing I needed was for my hair to fall out.
“I just saw Cade,” Danua said, with a small smile. “He is as jittery as a newly penned stallion. But as handsome as ever.”
I beamed at her then. It was good to know I wasn’t the only one about to lose control of my senses. She indicated the bed, and we both walked over and sat down.
“I just wanted to come up here and see you before the ceremony begins. To make sure there wasn’t anything you needed.”
I swallowed and shook my head. “No, I’m fine. Just a little anxious, but I’m hoping that will pass.”
Danua reached out and squeezed my arm in a motherly way, I suppose. I couldn’t tell with her half the time. She tried very hard to act the part of a loving mother, but she had groomed herself for so long to be the domineering queen that I think sometimes she struggled with the small stuff. Nevertheless, I appreciated her efforts.
“And, I wanted to give you this.”
She reached into a deep pocket in her skirts and pulled out something silver dangling from a long glittery chain.
“Open your hand.”
I obeyed without question. She lowered the item into my palm and withdrew her hands. I gave her a quick look, but her expression was blank. Curious, I considered the object. It was oval in shape, and a beautiful Celtic knot work pattern was worked into its surface.
“What is it?” I asked, feeling a bit foolish and worried I might offend her.
“A locket. I have a similar one,” she responded.
Danua reached up and pulled on a chain resting against her neck. A silver oval, almost identical to mine, emerged from her bodice.
“Open it,” she insisted.
I did as I was told, carefully unsnapping the tiny clasp and letting the two halves of the locket swing open. On one side, there was a tiny portrait of sorts. It looked almost like a photograph, but it could have also been a very well done painting. The image sat beneath a smooth piece of glass. I ran my fingers over the cool surface and smiled.
“This is you,” I said, without looking up.
“I thought it might be nice for you to have my picture. Look.”
I glanced up. Danua had opened her locket as well and was showing me a picture of two people, one a young woman and the other a small boy. Me and Aiden.
I shot my eyes up to hers, and she gave me a warm smile. She had been trying those on of late. I liked them much better than the frosty quirk of her mouth she often displayed for people she found particularly stupid or tiresome.
“I keep the people I hold most dear close to my heart,” she murmured, snapping the locket shut before I could get a closer look at the image on the opposite side. She slipped the necklace back down the front of her bodice where it had been before.
Since I hadn’t finished examining my own locket, I dropped my eyes once more and tilted it to the side so I could get a better look at the picture opposite my mother’s. I felt my forehead crease as I studied the unfamiliar face. It was the image of a young man, a handsome young man with blond hair and fierce blue-green eyes whose corners tilted up ever so slightly. There was something I recognized about him, a subtle familiarity that resided in his bone structure or in the way his hair fell across his forehead. I studied his angular jaw line and felt my eyes widen a little in surprise when I noticed his ears. Pointed at their tips, like one of the mythical elves in all the fantasy books I had read back in the mortal world. I returned my scrutiny to his eyes, and that’s when it dawned upon me.
I shot my gaze up at my mother. In a wistful voice I asked, “This is my father, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “His name is Taerinth. I don’t think I ever told you that.”
Her smile wasn’t entirely sad this time. A hint of remembered happiness gathered around the edges of it and sparkled faintly in her eyes.
“Taerinth,” I said, trying it out. I felt my own mouth curl into a grin. I liked it. “He looks like Aiden,” I added, as I studied his features more closely. “I mean, they don’t have the same hair color, and his features are a little sharper, but I can see a resemblance.”
I took my index finger and traced his ear, laughing a little. “Like an elf. But Aiden and I have ears like the Faelorehn.”
I looked up at my mother, and she shook her head. “That particular trait is recessive. Only those who are of pure Fomorian blood will have pointed ears.”
For a few moments, I held my mother’s gaze. There was something in the strength of her spirit, in the wa
y her eyes didn’t falter, that made me realize something.
“You think he’s still alive, don’t you?” I asked, my voice a mere whisper.
Danua jerked her head once in a nod. “I must not lose hope, Meghan. I will never lose hope.”
There were a thousand more questions I wanted to ask her, all fluttering around in my mind like a cloud of butterflies, but I couldn’t grasp a single one. Turns out they would have to wait because at that moment Enorah stepped into the room, not bothering to knock. I snapped the locket shut and looped the chain over my head, being careful not to mess up my hair.
“Are you ready?” she breathed, eyeing my mother dubiously.
Enorah looked beautiful in her dress, the deep green color a perfect complement to her skin and golden-brown hair. It was still difficult to grasp, though. I was so used to seeing her in her forest huntress garb that I caught myself holding back a small snicker as she stepped farther into the room. Either she was completely oblivious to my reaction, or she was ignoring me. I would put my money on the latter. I shook my head slightly and cast a sideways glance at my mother.
Taking a deep breath through my nose, I reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Danua turned to join the rest of the guests waiting outside on the terrace, but before she left the room, I took her hand once again.
“Thank you,” I said fervently, touching my fingers to the silver oval hanging from the chain around my neck, “for the locket. I will treasure it.”
“I’m sorry your father cannot be here to walk you down the aisle, Meghan,” Danua said. “He would be so proud of you. I thought having his portrait, although it isn’t nearly the same, would help.” She smiled, her eyes shining. “But I guess in a way, he will be walking with you down the aisle.”
She reached out and brushed her fingers over the silver oval.
Faery Tales: Six Novellas of Magic and Adventure (Faery Worlds Book 3) Page 28
