Speirling ran the entire way, never seeming to tire. Thank goodness he was an Otherworldly horse or else he might have died from the effort.
Dawn’s first light touched the horizon as we came up over a final rise in the rolling countryside, and the dolmarehn leading to Cade’s castle towered into view. Cade gave his horse another nudge and we went flying down the hill, Fergus and Meridian, miraculously, still on our heels.
I must have dozed off during the night, despite the jarring ride and bite of the wind and rain that had finally caught up to us and despite the gnawing worry over my family. I felt stiff and groggy, and grit gathered at the corners of my eyes. Cade didn’t slow Speirling as we entered the large dolmarehn. The familiar strangeness that always overcame me when crossing through these portals tugged at me, but the transition was quick and in the next breath we were thundering down the trail running alongside the stream behind Cade’s home.
“Not long now Meghan. Only ten more miles or so and we’ll be at the dolmarehn that will take us to your family.”
I nodded, tightening my grip on the arm wrapped around my middle and trying to ignore the horrible dread coiling up in my stomach. What if we were too late? How could I live with myself if the Morrigan killed my family? I dashed those thoughts from my mind. They only fed my anxiety and I needed to be clear-headed right now.
The early morning sun bathed the countryside in golden light, doing its best to warm the land before the storm arrived. We had jumped ahead of the clouds by passing through the dolmarehn, but they would reach us soon. I hoped we’d be in the mortal world by then.
“Just beyond those hills Meghan, only a little further,” Cade murmured, his voice no more than an inch above my ear.
We broke free of the woods and I spotted the castle below and to the left of us. I gazed out across the wide valley, remembering the first time I’d found myself in the Otherworld. It seemed like ages ago, when I’d been foolish enough to fall into the Morrigan’s trap and come so close to dying. I shook my head, forcing those awful thoughts away. I was with Cade now, and with any luck we wouldn’t even see the Morrigan today.
My skin began to crawl. It had been a long time since she’d bothered to harass me, and even on the few occasions she sent her reminders (the demon bats and the strange pig), the resulting injuries barely left a mark. Okay, maybe the cut I got from the evil bat was bad, but in general, I managed to escape relatively unscathed. I should have realized she was preparing something far worse.
“Come on,” Cade growled, kicking Speirling into a faster pace.
We descended the hill beside the castle and Cade’s horse picked up his gait once we reached the fields, breathing heavily because of his efforts.
Speirling turned a final bend and when the trail leading up to the dolmarehn came into view, Cade released something between a horrified gasp and a curse, jerking on the stallion’s reins in his state of shock. Speirling let loose a distressed whinny, rising up onto his hind legs and falling back to keep his balance. Fergus started barking and Meridian’s fearful screeches rained down from above.
I clung to Cade and the saddle, trying to stay seated. I made an attempt to figure out what was going on, but the hood of the cloak obscured my view. Once the horse lowered his forelegs to the ground, I glanced up, drew the hood back, and trained my eyes ahead of us.
I nearly fell from Speirling’s back as my face drained of all color. There, curling around the base of the hill like some menacing fog, stood an army of dark, terrifying faelah. But what drew my attention the most was the woman who blocked our path several hundred feet away. I was confused for a split-second. The message claimed she was on her way to kill my family, so why would she be standing here below the path to the dolmarehn, waiting with her minions? Why wasn’t she climbing up the trail to pass into the mortal world?
Cade’s arm tightened on me for a mere second, and in that moment I knew. Of course . . . My brain was worse for the wear right now, after spending the entire night playing freeze tag with my emotions while flying across the countryside on horseback, worried sick about my parents and my brothers. At least, that’s the excuse I made for myself.
The Morrigan never planned to kill my family. She’d set this up, just like last time. She’d drawn me, and Cade as well, into her nice, neat little trap. She guessed I would come to save my family. She pieced together exactly what to say in order to draw me out into the open, far away from the Dagda, the one Faelorehn (besides my uncaring mother) who possessed the most magic to protect me. Now we were alone, terribly outnumbered and miles upon miles away from anyone who might help.
I gritted my teeth and kicked myself mentally. She’d done it again. She had tricked me again. And this time I couldn’t even blame it on my own ignorance. I now understood what the Morrigan was capable of and I had a terrible feeling the price for my foolishness would be far greater than what I was willing to pay.
* * *
The soot-grey clouds that followed us from the Dagda’s started gathering overhead and the rugged hills framing the valley seemed to cower in anticipation for what was to come. I tried to find solace in those hills; in the scattered trees growing on their peaks, but the small valley we now stood in brought to mind a bear trap, ready to snap shut and cripple me.
The faelah moved quickly and orderly, making a quarter mile wide semi-circle to enclose Cade and me, with the largest of them standing guard at our backs. Yes, the trap was set.
Neither Cade nor I said a word, nor did we look at each other. What could we say or recognize in one another’s eyes that we didn’t already know? The Morrigan had won. Her patience had finally paid off, and she’d won. I’d forgotten about Cade’s hold on me, but then he loosened his grip and leaned forward.
“I’m going to get off the horse now,” he whispered next to my ear, his voice revealing only a trace of the emotion he kept bottled up.
I nodded, not looking back at him. I thought it wise to keep my eye on the enemy, one that stood eerily still. The faelah were waiting for our next move, most likely. Cade slid off of Speirling’s back, reaching up to lift me down. The horse danced nervously away, but not too far. I didn’t like the way some of the Morrigan’s monsters eyed him, as if they thought he’d be a quick and easy snack.
Something cold and wet pressed against my hand and my first instinct was to jerk it away. Fortunately, I didn’t screech as well. I glanced down and sighed with relief when I realized it was only Fergus offering me comfort, and not some slimy creepy crawly thing of the Morrigan’s.
Taking the wolfhound’s cue, Meridian swooped down from the storm clouds and landed on my shoulder. Her feathers were ruffled from the wind and our break-neck journey, but other than that, she looked no worse for wear. I understood the spirit guides couldn’t protect me from whatever the Morrigan had planned, she was just too powerful, but their presence comforted me nonetheless.
Something warm and reassuring laced with my fingers and I glanced down to find Cade’s hand gripping my own. I squeezed back and took a deep, shuddering breath. We were in this together. This was my fault, the Morrigan wanted me, but Cade would not abandon me. And I knew why she was after me. She craved my raw magic, magic that was supposed to be far stronger than any other in Eilé, save for the natural power of the Faelorehn high lords and ladies themselves: the Celtic gods and goddesses. Too bad my glamour didn’t seem to be working. You’ve wasted your time! I wanted to scream. Turns out I can’t even get it to leave my body. Unfortunately, I didn’t think she would believe me.
Taking a deep breath, Cade stepped forward, pulling me along with him. As we moved closer, I tried not to stare at the creatures standing on either side of the goddess. Many I recognized, both from their visits to the mortal world and from my first trip here. They were all dark in color and most of them resembled the rotting corpses of something long dead. They all stared at me, some without eyes, as if they were merely waiting for a single word or signal from their master to devour me. I blanched
and Cade pulled me closer.
Ahead, the Morrigan waited, her dark cloak and skirts and black hair dancing in the wind. I didn’t think I would ever get used to her imposing presence. I wouldn’t be surprised if the storm held back its intense fury simply because she told it to.
Eventually we stopped walking and came to rest several feet in front of the Morrigan and the ten hellhounds standing by her side. I eyed them warily, their rotting flesh and glowing eyes still unsettling despite my many visits to the Otherworld.
“We wish to go to the dolmarehn,” Cade said, his voice strong and clear.
The creatures growled, grunted and rattled in response to his statement, but they held their places.
“I do not see why you would,” the Morrigan responded in a bored fashion. “There is nothing in the mortal world worth going back to.”
My eyes grew wide and for a moment I thought I might pass out. Cade dropped my hand and put his arm around me instead.
“Meghan,” he whispered, taking hold of my chin and lifting my eyes to meet his.
“No,” I murmured as the tears began to form.
Cade whipped his head around and cast a hard glare at the Morrigan.
“You lie!” he hissed, and his constricting grasp on me only reflected my own thoughts. She very well might not be lying.
The goddess rolled her eyes. “I’m afraid you are right, dear Caedehn, much to my chagrin. Time constraints, you know. I’ll simply wait and exterminate the mortal vermin after we are done here.”
I almost passed out again, this time from the rush of relief coursing through me.
“And what, exactly, are we doing here?”
The strength in Cade’s voice helped rally my spirits. Well, at least enough so that he didn’t need to hold me up any longer.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’ve been hiding this poor misguided creature for weeks, bringing her here to Eilé and secretly flaunting her before all sorts of Faelorehn, and I thought the time had come to remove her from your negative influence.”
I stood up straight then, giving the woman a quizzical glare. What?
“Do explain yourself,” Cade demanded through clenched teeth.
“I’ve drawn you out in order to claim fosterage of this lost Faelorehn girl.”
“She doesn’t need fostering,” Cade snapped.
“Oh, but Caedehn! All Faelorehn are fostered! Do you want poor Meghan here to be an outcast when she makes Eilé her permanent home? In order to be accepted among the highest circles she must be fostered by one of the kings or queens of the Otherworld.”
“She does not need to be fostered if she lives under Danua’s roof. The high queen has plenty of subjects who might act as a foster parent, all of them worthy of moving in the highest circles. Your concern is unwarranted and unwanted.”
Under Danua’s roof? He must be buying time because I knew that was never going to happen. I was also pretty certain should Cade grow any tenser, he just might shatter from the effort of keeping still. But that wasn’t my greatest concern. I listened carefully to what the Morrigan said, each passing word making my stomach knot with unease. Oh, she wanted to ‘foster’ me alright, but not because she felt concerned about my social status and reputation.
“Her own mother has shunned her, or so that’s the word being passed around the Faelorehn courts,” the Morrigan continued, her tone adamant, “and I’ve heard of no others who wish to accept her, so she’s still a strayling. Therefore, I make first claim to her.”
“No.”
I gave Cade a surprised look. His negative response had been sharper than my own.
“I’ll take responsibility for her,” he continued.
In any other situation, my heart would’ve sung with happiness, but now was not the time for rejoicing.
The Morrigan smiled, though her expression held no humor. “You have no right, my dear boy. Not being one of the kings or queens yourself, you would need consent from a guardian or blood relation to take on such a responsibility and your guardian is not here, and I do not grant my permission.”
It took a few moments for the Morrigan’s words to register. After all, she was speaking of Otherworldly matters and class systems, things as foreign to me as Eilé itself. But what did she mean by Cade needing authorization from a guardian or blood relation? I assumed the guardian she mentioned could only be the Dagda, but he wasn’t here. Or he could ask a blood relation for permission, and she wouldn’t grant hers. Wait . . . What?
I snapped my gaze up, taking in the goddess standing before me. Her eyes narrowed in something between suspicion and annoyance. I turned my head and blinked up at Cade. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“What does she mean, she won’t grant her permission?”
My question came out as a whisper, but from Cade’s slight flinch I knew he’d heard me over the growing storm and the sickening chatter and growling coming from the army of faelah.
In the next moment, I realized the Morrigan had caught wind of my words as well. She laughed, a long, cruel, self-obsessive laugh, rumbling through the threatening air like thunder. I trembled, for I sensed her power building all around us like lightning charging the thick, heavy atmosphere.
“Oh my dear girl,” she chuckled, wiping a tear from her eye, “are you telling me that my sweet little Caedehn hasn’t disclosed the degree of our relationship yet?”
Cade remained absolutely still next to me, and my skin began to turn hot. I had a horrible suspicion I was about to learn something dreadful. The secret Cade had kept from me all this time, the thing everyone else seemed to be aware of, except me. The sting of tears prickled at my eyes, and I fought them. Cade was supposed to be the one to tell me this, not my worst enemy.
The Morrigan grinned and locked eyes with Cade. The expression on her cruel, beautiful face conveying her barely retained glee.
“Why, he is my one and only son. And I am his dear mother.”
I didn’t mean to gasp, honestly, I didn’t. It just kind of slipped out. In fact, I hardly registered the act because I was too busy being bludgeoned over the head with shock. The Morrigan. Cade’s mother!? Oh. My. God. He was the son of a goddess? Oh, and now his disgust at my assumption the year before made perfect sense. No, not his girlfriend; his mother. Blood relation. Not an aunt or a cousin, but his mother!
“Not that I ever wanted a son, and Cade is proof as to why,” she sneered, the look of enjoyment now replaced with annoyance and disgust. “He’s been a severe disappointment since birth. A complete nuisance.”
She turned her harsh glare on her son, the air all but crackling with dark red fire around her. I had pulled away from him but he still held on to me, tightly, as if afraid I would bolt like a rabbit.
The Morrigan continued, “All I asked of you, Caedehn, was for you to keep my Earth-happy minions in line and to rein in any lost Faelorehn that might be useful. And here you have the unwanted progeny of Danua and some Fomorian whelp, a combination you know is volatile and oh so full of magical potential, and you’ve kept her away from me all this time. Was that so much for a mother to ask of her son? To bring such treasures back to me? But no, you refused.”
“You act as if I had a choice!” Cade retorted, finally releasing me and letting his anger show. I sensed it curling around him and he seemed to grow larger.
Far too much power brewed around me, what with the Morrigan and Cade’s barely contained rage, the restlessness of all the faelah surrounding us and the angry storm above. I backed away slowly, afraid this gathering of power might somehow inadvertently destroy me.
I could just make out Speirling, skirting along the edge of the circle, only the unpleasant smell and chatter coming from the Morrigan’s monsters keeping him in the valley. I had half a mind to run to him, leap onto his back, and force him to jump over the smaller creatures, but I would never leave Cade. He was the son of the Morrigan, but that hardly seemed to matter. Yes, I found it intimidating, but he was my friend, more than my friend. I loved him, and j
ust like I’d promised the Dagda, I wouldn’t leave him.
“You placed a geis on me, remember?”
Cade’s hard voice snapped me back to the present. I best pay attention if we wanted to get out of this alive. Should survival even be an option at this point . . .
The Morrigan snorted. “A geis you broke.”
“Please Mother,” he countered in disgust, “our people have been breaking geasa since the beginning of time. What choice do we have?”
“It doesn’t matter. Whether you had broken your geis or not, you still would’ve failed.”
“Of course I would have,” Cade said roughly. “No matter what I choose to do, you’ll never be satisfied. You’ll never stop taking your anger with my father out on me.”
The Morrigan turned with frightening speed and her black skirts billowed around her, forming menacing clouds mirroring those hovering above us.
“Your father,” she hissed, “took advantage of my good graces!”
Cade laughed out loud. “Your good graces? He tricked you, plain and simple, after you tried to beguile him. So really, you have only yourself to blame.”
It seemed they had forgotten my presence, not a difficult feat considering I’d been practically struck dumb, and from where I stood, this conversation had been a long time coming. I arched an eyebrow when Cade glanced back at me. The look of guilt on his face suggested there was more unsettling information to come. Oh well. Nothing that was said or happened from this point on would change the way I felt about him and I was pretty sure I’d already learned the worst.
The Morrigan bared her teeth. “Cuchulainn was a fool, and he died a fool as well.”
For the second time that night, my raw senses were doused with another helping of shock. So much for being prepared. Somehow between the roaring in my ears, the pounding of my heart, and the short-circuiting of my nerve endings, I found my voice, “Cuchulainn is your father?! And the Morrigan your mother?”
Dolmarehn - Book Two of the Otherworld Trilogy Page 20
