Dolmarehn - Book Two of the Otherworld Trilogy

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  I found Cade and Speirling on the other side of the dolmarehn, both of them standing still and grave, as if expecting the dead to rise up all around them and drag them into the afterlife.

  A deep sigh left me as I wiped at my cheeks and turned to study our surroundings. Yes, I’d let my emotions get the better of me, and I needed a moment to recover. Too bad the beautiful scenery didn’t help. A massive lake spanned the distance in front of us, and behind us were more small mountains. A broad road stretched along the shore in either direction and to the east I spied the edge of a sprawling city with a glorious castle standing atop a centrally-located hill. My mouth dropped open and I forgot my worry, my lingering shock and brewing fear.

  “Erintara,” Cade murmured beside me.

  I flinched, not realizing he’d guided Speirling closer to my mare.

  “And this is the other side of Lake Ohll.”

  A long silence ensued where neither one of us spoke a single word.

  Finally, Cade drew in a deep breath and said, his voice tinged with sorrow, “I’m so sorry Meghan, I should have told you sooner. I had my suspicions, that Danua might be your mother. Only recently, though, did I become convinced of the truth.”

  I nodded, the tears still spilling out, but there was something I needed to ask him.

  “Why does it seem like I’ve heard that name before?” I asked quietly, my throat tight. An old memory perhaps?

  Cade remained quiet for several moments before answering. “Because you have heard it before, a variation of it at least. The Danube River and the Tuatha De Danaan, the tribe of Danu . . . They were named for Danua, only, the Celts of the mortal world called her Danu.”

  A hard punch to my stomach would have been more welcoming at the moment. So not an old memory after all, but the name Danu had come up a few times during my research. Of course, I had been pretty preoccupied studying the Morrigan at the time and for good reason.

  “And I’m her daughter,” I said out loud, my voice sounding disembodied.

  “Meghan, I should have investigated sooner. I might’ve been able to tell you this months ago, if only I’d put more effort into it. But I didn’t. I knew if I’d been right, that if Danua truly was your mother, it would mean I-”

  He cut himself short and raked his hands through his hair, fighting some internal battle I wasn’t permitted to be a part of.

  What Cade? It would mean what? I wanted to scream.

  “Come on,” he finally murmured, “she is expecting us.”

  We reached the city a half an hour later, and if I hadn’t been so distracted by what I had just learned, then I might’ve appreciated the spotless, paved streets, the towering trees lining the paths or the quaint little restaurants and shops with their brightly painted signs. Thoughts of a well-manicured theme park, without the swarming tourists of course, came to mind, especially when the sound of light, cheery music met my ears and the faint scent of sweet spices filled the air around us.

  The castle rose up above the city on a little hill surrounded by trees and open space. The paved road leading up to the castle’s entrance proved to be an easy walk for the horses, and when we reached the outer gate the guards let us pass without too many questions. Cade spoke to them in the language of Eilé, his voice never betraying his emotions, whatever those emotions might be.

  Several stable hands in crisp uniforms took our horses and we were escorted into the castle by more guards. The palace, like the rest of the charming metropolis, was beautiful, the tall spires and stained glass windows making me think of fairytales and princesses. I grimaced at the thought as we crossed the enormous marble entrance hall. According to Cade I was one of those princesses, though I didn’t feel like I belonged in a fairytale. Well, not a happy one.

  “Her majesty is just finishing up with her diplomats. You may see her shortly.”

  I swallowed hard and Cade took my hand.

  Fifteen agonizing minutes later, the tall doors opened up and a flurry of finely dressed men and women poured out, all chatting animatedly to one another. To my immense relief, they didn’t notice Cade and me standing to the side.

  “Her majesty will see you now,” the guard from before acknowledged only me. I would be meeting with the queen alone.

  My stomach fell to the floor, my frightened gaze searching Cade’s. His smile was grim, but he nodded, giving my hand one last squeeze before unlacing his fingers from mine. The tears had long since dried up, but my broiling emotions made me unsteady on my feet. The guard led me into the vast room, yet I barely had time to take in the high vaulted ceiling and the magnificent dais at the end of the hall before my eyes locked on the woman sitting languidly in the throne far ahead of me. I caught my breath. My mother. Danua, Queen of Eilé.

  “So,” she said, her voice strong and commanding, “you are my long lost daughter.”

  It was a statement, not a question. All of a sudden the hall seemed to grow larger.

  “I-I don’t know,” I answered carefully, my throat growing dry.

  “What name did the humans who raised you give to you?” she continued. “I should know what to call you.”

  I blanked out for a moment. Hadn’t Cade told her my name when he arranged all of this?

  I swallowed back my pain. “Meghan,” I responded quietly, “Meghan Elam.”

  She arched a perfect eyebrow and rose from her throne, descending the steps of her dais with the grace of a dancer. Her movements were as fluid as water, the skirts of her scarlet dress spreading out behind her. She had the unmistakable presence that all the Faelorehn seemed to possess, but hers was all-encompassing. And she was stunningly beautiful.

  I studied her as she paused in front of me, just as she scrutinized me. She stood tall and had dark, curly hair like mine. Her eyes, however, mimicked the color of the sea and sky, flickering between a variety of blues, greens and grays as she started circling me. I felt like a marble statue in a museum. Finally she stopped and looked me in the eye. I drew in a startled breath. Her Faelorehn power filled the room, a thick and almost tangible presence.

  “May I?” She held out one of her delicate hands.

  Nervously, I placed my palm over hers.

  Her eyelids drifted shut and a cool sensation began crawling up my arm. When the odd prickling reached my chest and poked at the spot where my power resided, I flinched, pulling my hand back with a slight hiss.

  Danua frowned and gazed at me. Her expression revealed a hint of sadness, yet I sensed disapproval more than anything else.

  “You were not supposed to come here.”

  Her words brushed my ears, quiet and harsh.

  I blanched, remembering those many months ago when the Morrigan lured me into the Otherworld in order to break the geis of protection my mother had placed on me.

  “I know,” I murmured, casting my eyes downward, “but I didn’t realize it until after I had come to Eilé.”

  She sighed. “Well, you are here now so I suppose you want to hear all the details about how you came to exist and why you grew up in the mortal world.”

  Yes, I did want to learn as much as I could, but her words struck me like a well-placed slap. Boredom infused her tone, as if telling me about my father and why she had given me up proved to be as dull as repeating old gossip to her ladies in waiting.

  I straightened my spine and followed after her as she gestured me back towards her throne. She invited me to pull up a chair as she took her seat on the dais. Without preamble, she jumped right into the story, so I sat and listened carefully, not wanting to miss a single detail.

  “I have lived a long time Meghan, longer than most of the Faelorehn. For many of those years, I had a proper consort, but a century or so ago I lost him in one of the wars that tend to happen amongst our people. I ruled alone for decades, but one day a retinue from another land arrived with the hopes to establish trade and commerce between our two great realms.

  “Among this group was a trained guard, some thirty soldiers strong, and
one of these soldiers . . .”

  She paused, her gaze growing distant, her harsh and serious mouth softening a little with the hint of a smile. Despite my unease at the whole situation, I bit back a grin. I understood what she meant. That must be how I appeared when I glanced at Cade.

  She blinked and regained her composure, continuing her story as if an interruption hadn’t occurred.

  “He was young, handsome and his presence just filled the room whenever he entered my court. Not even half the year passed before we became lovers, but we were careful to keep our relationship secret.”

  She sighed and a sad look dominated her face once again. “Several months into our tryst he told me he was of Fomorian descent. I’m not aware of how much you understand concerning our history Meghan, but the Fomore have been our enemies for as long as I can remember.”

  I nodded. “I read about the battle. It’s been written down as a legend in the mortal world.”

  She snorted, a very lady-like snort, and said with some sarcasm, “Yes, the Celts would have turned our dislike for one another into something of epic proportions. Only because our war spilled over into their world, something we never planned on happening. The Fomorians were retreating, trying to find a place to hide and recover; somewhere to escape the wrath of the Tuatha De. You see, the Faelorehn wanted to make sure our enemy never bothered us again.”

  I thought about her explanation for a few moments and it occurred to me that the Faelorehn meant to eliminate the Fomorian race for good. The knowledge didn’t sit well in my stomach. I didn’t care how terrible a group of people may seem, genocide was not the answer.

  “We made a mistake, on both our sides, to let our hatred build up so strongly to make us want to obliterate the other. I know better now not to allow others to sway me so easily.”

  She sneered and I wondered who those ‘others’ had been. Despite my horror at what she admitted, I a sense of relief washed over me. My mother might be cold and distant, but cruelty seemed outside the limits of her tolerance.

  I cleared my throat. “So, did you end your relationship with the Fomorian guard?”

  Danua glanced down at me. “No, I didn’t. But we practiced even more discretion as our affair continued. If the Faelorehn found out I had taken a Fomorian to my bed, the entire balance of our world would have been upset.”

  So theirs had been a forbidden love. Personally, I’d never been much of a fan of the classic stories concerning star-crossed lovers. Yet after hearing Danua’s tale first hand, I felt nothing but sympathy for her.

  “You couldn’t end it?” I asked timidly.

  She merely shook her head, revealing a heartrending, half-smile as she did so. “I was already in love with him.”

  A twinge of sympathy tugged at my heart. Falling for a guy, only to find out he was the enemy of your people, must have been tough. I realized this story wouldn’t end well and I squirmed a little in my seat.

  I swallowed and took a deep breath. “Where is he, my father, now?”

  Danua laughed, soft and bitter. “So you’ve already concluded that my Fomorian soldier is your sire? You are rather perceptive, dear girl.”

  “Actually, Cade told me I was half Fomorian, so I just assumed.”

  Danua wrinkled her nose. “Yes, eventually my people found out and soon everyone, from the lowest born commoners, to the highest born lords, grew aware of my indiscretion. I became their hated queen, and they only remained loyal to me because they feared the considerable power I wield. As you can imagine, ruling the kingdom proved more difficult than before, but eventually they forgave me. At least enough for me to gain some control again.”

  “And this is why you sent me away, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t need to include: because I reminded you of my father. The statement resonated amid the words I’d said aloud.

  My mother detected the hidden statement and shook her head. “Yes. This is why I sent you away, so I could focus on ruling Eilé again, and so you would be safe.”

  My anger slammed itself against the lid I’d placed over it. I’d been so good about keeping it in check; about keeping all my emotions in check.

  “You’re a powerful queen of Eilé! How were you unable to protect your own daughter in the world where she belonged?”

  My fingernails dug into the wooden armrests of my chair. I shot my hot gaze up at the Faelorehn queen. “How could you protect me when I was alone in another realm?”

  I had hoped for a small flinch, or even for her face to take on a remorseful expression, but she betrayed no emotion.

  Instead, a coldness glazed her features as she answered me, “That was the whole point, Meghan. By sending you away to a different world and by setting a geis of protection upon you, you were safer with your foster family than you would have been growing up here. You still would be, if you hadn’t broken your geis and crossed over into Eilé.”

  I shot up out of the chair, my increasing anger overshadowing the caution I’d been so careful to show in front of royalty. “I had no idea a geis had been placed on me! I only found out after I entered the Otherworld; after learning I wasn’t human! And when did you plan on telling me about my Faelorehn roots?”

  Danua stood as well, her form seeming to take up the entire hall. My anger disappeared with a snap and a tingle of fear took its place. I sat down, suddenly remembering who I spoke to.

  “You were never supposed to know you were Faelorehn!” she snarled. “You would’ve lived a happy life in the mortal world, never discovering what horrors existed here. You would have been safe there from the Morrigan and her faelah.”

  The room had grown darker, as if a storm brewed right below the ceiling far above us. In fact, I sensed the prickle of lightning getting ready to strike. I swallowed, more afraid than upset, but my emotions weren’t fully subdued.

  “You never answered my question. Where is my father?” I asked, my eyes burning with tears of fury.

  A heavy sigh and the sound of skirts swishing told me my mother found her seat once again. I braved a glance at her and my anxiety eased a little.

  She sat askew in her throne, not upright and alert like before. One arm she draped lazily over an armrest, the other she had crooked so her mouth pressed against her folded hand. She wasn’t looking at me, but gazing out of one of the tall windows lining the hall. It was obvious by the way she held herself that her thoughts and her heart had drifted far away. The fine lines around her beautiful face seemed a bit more pronounced in that moment, as if her true age yearned to escape through the shell of immortality. I understood then that, wherever my birth father might be, she longed for him; still loved him.

  She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with the hand she’d had pressed to her lips.

  “He is no longer here Meghan. This is all you need to know. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like some peace.”

  I opened my mouth to say something: I’m sorry. Do you want to talk? I’m your daughter, please let me comfort you.

  Before I got a chance to speak, however, a lady in waiting opened a side door and curtsied.

  Danua spoke without glancing up. “Nettalie, please show my daughter to her room.”

  She waved a hand and Nettalie walked over and took my arm, leading me gently through the door. I cast a final glance over my shoulder and before the door snapped shut, Danua, the powerful goddess queen of the Faelorehn, bent over in her throne and covered her face with her hands.

  * * *

  Nettalie led me down several hallways and up a few staircases before stopping in front of a large wooden door. The suite inside resembled the dream of any little girl wishing to be a princess, but such opulence would never shift my loyalties away from the room in Cade’s castle.

  “Dinner will be served in an hour, Miss. Someone will come fetch you.” Nettalie curtsied again before closing the door gently behind her.

  I fell onto the high bed, wondering where Cade had gone and hoping he hadn’t left me here. Someone had placed my
duffle bag on a chest at the foot of the bed and I noticed a small space serving as a bathroom off to the side.

  I took a deep breath, releasing the air through my nose. So, I really was half Fomorian. And my mother was Danua. Danu. The River Danube had been named for her, and the Tuatha De Danaan called her their Mother. A queen who had ruled for centuries and wished for nothing more than to prove she remained strong and unbending, a pillar among the Faelorehn who would always be their most capable sovereign. Oh, but she was more than that; she was my mother, my flesh and blood mother, and she was heartbroken and wanted nothing to do with me. Everything made sense, what she’d said about her decision concerning me and what I’d concluded on my own, but it still hurt terribly.

  I rolled over on the bed, seeking a plush pillow to hug. I wondered where my father might be. No longer here . . . What did that mean? Was he dead? Banished to some other kingdom or realm? And if so, could he be brought back to Eilé? Not just for my sake, but for my mother’s as well. Couldn’t the Faelorehn learn to accept him, in time? Would they ever learn to accept me if they found out who I truly was?

  Too weary to get up, I simply shut my eyes and tried to take a nap. I felt confused, upset and angry. I had too many emotions trying to find space in my heart, so I just huffed a deep breath and let the day’s shocks and revelations all wash over me.

  I eventually fell asleep, my head resting on a pillow soaked with my tears.

  -Fourteen-

  Erintara

  A soft tap on my door jerked me awake. I lay silent for several seconds, trying to remember where I was. The canopy of the bed I rested in wasn’t familiar and my eyes were gritty and ached. The tap came again, this time followed by a voice.

  “Meghan?”

  Cade. I sighed my relief and sat up, scrubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands.

  “Hang on,” I grumbled after sliding off the mattress.

  As I made my way across the room, everything came crashing back to me. The beautiful castle in Erintara, my royal mother and what she’d told me about my father . . .