The Arrow (Children of Brigid Trilogy Book 1)

by Maureen O'Leary

  “I’m here to protect the protector,” Eli said. “You can fight me on it if you want to. It won’t do you any good.”

  He still had the demon bulk to his muscles, a certain hardness to his craggy face. But his voice no longer sounded awful.

  He sat across the table and buttered yet another piece of bread. He poured honey on it before handing it over for her to devour. She tasted clover flowers, sunshine, long summer days. Honey dripped down her chin. Eli’s face broke into a smile as he leaned forward. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her mouth. He licked the honey from her lips.

  “We have to get to work,” she said weakly.

  “Yeah we do,” Eli said. He sat back, his smile gone. “But I swear Fynn, when all this is over I’m taking you out to the meadow and I’m going to lay you down and...”

  Fynn held up her hands. “Please,” she begged. “Stop.” Desire ran through her entire body.

  “You’re right,” he said. “We’ll stop. For now.”

  She steadied herself. “Now, tell me everything you know about the witches’ plot against my family.”

  ***

  After a long talk, Fynn and Eli made their plans. Fynn pocketed her phone while he packed a rucksack with a bow and pointed arrows. She took a shower in William’s solar powered bathroom. The sage-scented soap soothed her skin. The water felt like heaven and she tried not to think of Eli standing just on the other side of the wall. She put on fresh jeans, leather boots, a long sleeved t-shirt.

  “He’s going to suspect something if you show up like that,” Eli said. He rifled through the bag of clothes Lia had left in the cabin. He tossed her a long green blouse made of brushed silk. “He’ll love you in this.”

  Fynn turned her back before making the switch. Her face burned.

  “We can’t tell anybody about us,” she said as she braided her hair. She couldn’t help but look at him though she wanted to hide her blushing.

  “Us?” He lifted one eyebrow.

  “We can’t tell people what happened last night,” she said. “I’ve got this whole other boyfriend. That is, I did.”

  “Komo,” Eli said. He rubbed the top of his head and looked away.

  “Look, it’s over between Komo and me. Obviously.”

  She felt like an idiot. She’d wasted time trifling on tour with Komo, taking drugs, and partying all while the world was ending.

  “Obviously?” Eli repeated. “When you see him again it might not feel so obvious.”

  “We’ve got to stop Cate before we think about anything else.” She didn’t mention that she wasn’t in a hurry to announce to her sister and father that she was falling in love with the demon that had been bred to kill her.

  “Does trying to save Komo ever work out for you?” Eli asked. The muscle in his jaw popped. “Komo knows where the Keep is. He can come on his own if he wants to.”

  “The witch has him,” Fynn said. “Your mother.”

  Eli shook his head. “You know as well as I do that Komo is a prisoner of no one. Witches can’t imprison the Divine if they don’t want to be caught. The balance of power doesn’t work that way.”

  Fynn tilted her head. “That’s the most I’ve heard you say at once,” she said. “You sound just like my dad.”

  Eli’s face brightened. “Really?” he asked. “Thanks. I love your dad.”

  As though he’d been conjured, William’s boots sounded on the porch steps. He ducked inside the front door.

  “Time to get this show on the road, young ones,” he said. He looked between them, his brow furrowing for a moment. Then he sighed and went back out.

  “So are we clear?” Fynn said in a whisper. “Let’s just forget about last night.”

  “Whatever you say, my Lady,” Eli said. He put his hand on the small of her back under the edge of her silk tunic. His hand was unbelievably warm.

  “Let’s go,” William called.

  Fynn walked ahead of Eli so he couldn’t touch her. She had work to do and couldn’t think about him now. But she already knew that telling herself she could forget about what they did last night was a story that she was never going to be able to mistake for truth.

  34. The Plain Order

  The roof of Cain Pharmaceuticals was a beautiful place. The gray concrete building shared an architect with some of the more notorious prisons in the state, but it wasn’t the blocky shape that gave it its beauty. It was the fact that it was nestled in a redwood forest within view of the Pacific Ocean that made it so much like a setting out of a fairy tale or myth. From his vantage point with his toes over the edge of the wall, Cain could easily see that his office building was in fact the tower of an evil witch and he her hapless prisoner.

  A large bird cried overhead. There were golden eagles in these woods. Behind him the helicopter pilot spoke in low tones to security into his phone.

  “You okay up there, sir?” the pilot asked. He cleared his throat. Cain put his arms out, Jesus-style. Or like a plane. He always wished he could fly.

  They had killed Fynn. His disgusting brothers did it on their own. Cate reported the facts, slimy with fake regret and sorrow. They killed Fynn and Liadan in an ambush in the woods beyond St. Cocha. They were supposed to kill the older one and return Fynn to Komo’s house alive but they became drunk on blood and went into a frenzy. Cate promised they would be punished. Cain did not believe his mother’s promises anymore. He never really had. He’d thought if he could play along with her games he would find his chance to take control.

  He thought by keeping the enemy that was his mother close he could at least predict what she would do. But there was no predicting the Witch Mother’s insanity. His mistake had killed Fynn. The eagle circled lower. His shriek made Cain afraid. He lifted a foot with the plan to pitch his weight forward on air. There would be no flying leap, no attempt at flight. He just wanted death for himself that morning. It was a plain order with no fantasies attached.

  His phone rang in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He tottered on one leg, confused. The ring tone was the opening chords of a Dionysus rock anthem. Fynn.

  The pilot had run to him when it looked like Cain was about to step off the wall, and nearly caught him when he jumped down from it to answer his phone. Cain scowled at the man, motioned him back.

  His hand shaking, he brought the phone to his ear.

  “Hello?” He hated the sound of his own voice. It was the voice of a man who was desperate, powerless and still so pathetically hopeful.

  “Cain Sandlin? It’s Fynn. Fynn Kildare. Please, if you can hear me, I need your help.”

  Cain looked up at the sky shrouded in morning fog and thought for just a brief moment that he knew what. it felt like to fly.

  35. The Arrow

  In the kitchen of Brigid’s Keep, a war tribunal gathered around the big plank farm table. Lia, William, and Jana sat beside men and women Fynn had never met but who wore the tattoos of Brigid’s disciples. They all stood when Fynn entered the room.

  “We need you to get a bodyguard that can enter the Keep without bursting into flames,” Lia said. “The Mayhem demon is useless.”

  “I don’t need a bodyguard,” Fynn said. “And Eli is not useless.” The mugs on the table rattled as the rosebushes scraped against the window in a sudden gust.

  “Why are you defending a demon?” Lia said with a laugh. “Are you sleeping with him too?”

  Fynn didn’t answer.

  “Oh, hell no,” Lia said. The wind rose to a shrieking gale. The kitchen door banged open, tossing rose petals and garden dirt across the kitchen floor.

  “Don’t you dare judge me.” Fynn pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “Not everybody wants to be a twenty-six year-old virgin.”

  The kitchen door beat against the wall as the whole building moaned. William held his head in his hands, stringing curses. The disciples looked down at the table like children stuck in the room while the parents were fighting.

  It was Jana who stood up.


  “That’s enough,” she said.

  “It’s not all about you and what you want, Fynn.” Lia would not back down. “You’re a goddess, do your job.”

  “I didn’t ask for this,” Fynn said as plates crashed to the floor.

  “It’s not about you.” The beams of the house whined as the winds rose to hurricane strength.

  “I said that’s enough.” Jana’s voice rose to the rafters. She moved between them in an act of courage that made the other disciples flinch. “Enough,” she said, spreading her arms between the sisters like wings.

  The storm ceased, leaving heavy silence.

  “New rule,” Jana said. She was a tall woman. “No goddess fights in the house.”

  “Here, here,” William said, banging the table with his cup. “Tell ‘em, Jana.”

  From overhead there was the booming motor of a helicopter approaching the roof of the Keep.

  “The medivacs are all in,” Lia said, looking at the ceiling. “That one isn’t ours.”

  “Down to the basement with you,” Jana said to Fynn. “Stay there until we say you can come out.”

  Chairs scraped against the floor and weapons clattered. William wrapped his arm around Fynn’s shoulders. He ushered her through the Keep down into the maze of the basement halls. The engine roared overhead as the helicopter landed. The basement smelled of mildew and gun oil. They went to the room for the bows and arrows.

  Lia and Jana meant to keep her safe there. The three Mayhem demons couldn’t enter the Keep, a reality that kept out Eli. Yet the roof could be under siege by lesser demon armies, mercenaries with automatic weapons, witches with daemonium blades. But it wasn’t any of those coming for her family. It was one lonely man. Fynn knew this. She was the one who had called him.

  The longbows rested against the walls. Fynn filled a quiver with arrows while William stood by with his eyes set like stones.

  “You’re not going to try to stop me?” she asked, shouldering the quiver.

  “You are the Arrow,” he said. “Your job is to protect us.” Her father would not fight destiny. He was the only one left among them with that kind of sense.

  “I am the Arrow. I am.” The weapons were light on her back. She ran up the back stairs, hoping the way to the roof would be clear, praying that her aim would be true.

  36. The Rescue

  Cain swallowed his vertigo as the helicopter swung around over the tops of the trees. The pilot circled the Keep a few times as Cain instructed. He wanted to be sure he was ready. This had to be executed just right.

  The sight of the Keep awakened in him a longing that he did not have time for. Nostalgia would make him weak. His memories of the Keep were lovely ribbons of long afternoons in the meadows, watching Fynn run through the high grass. Her long bronze colored hair flew behind her like a flag on fire in the sun. She was so beautiful and free. Mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes and he was glad of it. His pilot didn’t need to see him get misty.

  Cate was a cruel mother. His life was heavy even then between trying to shield his brothers so that they could stay together in the Keep as long as possible. He had known that their time in that paradise would be short. When Eligos the youngest turned four, Cate left to begin her evil work and her sons trailed behind her like poisoned ducklings.

  Hope was just a myth back then. Hope had been no more real than Santa Claus. Only when he was with little Fynn could he feel somewhere deep inside that his happiness could someday become real.

  Today was his day.

  The helicopter rested on the landing pad on the broad white roof of the Keep’s main hospital building. The high walls wove around the compound in a haphazard way. With a cold and clinical eye he saw that the old fort was a waste of human effort and will. The residents of the Keep thought the walls and stockpiles and healing centers would keep them safe from what was coming, but they wouldn’t. Cain Pharmaceuticals was five times the size of Brigid’s Keep and possessed the advanced technology of destruction. The medical doctors, midwives and mystics of Brigid’s Keep were barely adversaries. Even William the Story Keeper with his long stories by the fire could not in his wildest imagination devise a plan like Cate’s to bring down a whole world one destroyed soul at a time. She didn’t have to storm any walls. People would beg Cain Pharmaceuticals for their own destruction as long as they packaged it in a euphoric little party drug called Nine.

  He thought of the rows of brand new demons, their sheets stained in fresh blood. With Fynn by his side he would be able to convince himself that everything that had happened in his life had been nothing but a string of bad dreams. Cain and Fynn would live together and become old together, with no children to interrupt their happiness. He would be so good to her that she would forgive him for what he would have to do at first. With her entire family and community destroyed and the whole world burning, she would understand why he had to do it. He would attend to her every whim and desire and she would be happy and he would be good.

  In time, Fynn would make him good. She had called him to rescue her. He had not had to take her against her will, inject her with Nine, or come to her veiled in witch magic. She had called him. It was all he could do to keep from jumping out of the helicopter before it landed.

  Cain stooped under the swooping blades. His long black coat flapped behind him. He knew he looked like a powerful man. It was a good impression to make on his true love. He wanted her to forget the lovesick boy chasing her in futile games in the meadow, or the businessman she shunned at the party. He was her hero, saving her from pain and death even before she was aware that it was coming.

  Cate and Cara had wanted Fynn’s heart in a box. He would never let Fynn out of his sight again. After all these centuries, the Triple Goddess had remained intact. Since the Goddess first manifested in a girl child in the earliest human times, the line had remained unbroken. That girl had two daughters, and then her daughters had daughters, hundreds and hundreds of daughters through the centuries. Not until now had the line been broken. The death of Mother Brigid would have left them weak without the power of the Three.

  The time of the Goddess Brigid was over. The last remaining heir would find comfort with him. To be the last protector of the Goddess as the time of great death began was a gentleman’s honor.

  A cluster of Brigid disciples waited for him. He signaled for the pilot to turn off the engine. The roar of the blades died down.

  He called Fynn’s name. Just her name. Fynn Kildare.

  His eyes went fuzzy even in the clear morning light. Fynn had called him just an hour before, raspy with panic. She had to get away, she’d said. Her father had seen the impending demon storm in the story fire. Save me, she whispered. Her voice was a caress over the phone that overwhelmed him with desire.

  It was all finally happening. He would save her. The Keep guards could not stop him. He drew the gun from the holster that he wore strapped on his back. The world was about to end, leaving him with everything. He could be whomever he wanted now. Any movie hero in any movie he had ever seen, that could be him. Whatever hero he chose to be, it would always be Fynn at his side, his leading lady, his only love.

  There was a doctor and an operating room prepping for her even as he walked across the tarmac towards the ridiculous group of Keepers. The operation would be done that night. They would leave soon after and she would heal in the privacy and safety of their new home on the remote island that nobody had even bothered to map.

  Cain knew in that instant that he had gotten away with it. With all of it. He would have everything he wanted. He would rescue Fynn from these deluded hippie freaks and he would have his salvation. He would have it and she would give it to him.

  He raised his gun to use it to bludgeon a tattooed woman standing in his way. No need to waste bullets on sheep. Then a great white light exploded from behind her. He raised his hand to shield his eyes, but the light was burned into his retinas and he couldn’t see anything.

  And he was afraid. He was the litt
le boy in the Keep again, terrified of his mother, sulking around, eavesdropping under windows and around corners. If he brought his mother enough information, enough snippets of overheard conversations he didn’t understand but could recite word for word it might be a good day. She might leave them alone, or else hurt them less. He feared the day when Mother Brigid would see his mother and her sons for the traitors they were and kick them out like she would a nest of scorpions from under the bed.

  His vision cleared and the woman walked towards him. His heart leapt and at first he thought it was her, his only love. She had the same dark emerald eyes like none he had ever seen on another girl. But it wasn’t Fynn. It was her sister.

  “You’re dead,” he said. Fynn had called him an hour before, crying. She’d said that Eligos had killed Liadan. With her mother and sister dead she was all alone, except for him.

  But the woman who was Lia looked grim but alive. It was impossible that she was alive. No one could escape Eligos. His brother was nothing if not thorough in his death work.

  “You are not a friend,” Lia said. She had a pack slung across her back and a big old-fashioned bow in her hands.

  “I’m here for your sister,” Cain said. “She knows I’m here.” He had to hide his confusion. All that mattered was getting Fynn and getting out. He was stupid to come with just his pilot. The only real power he had was in his gun.

  “You can’t keep her from me,” he said. “I’m here to save her.”

  There was movement behind Lia. He squinted his eyes and the light abated so that he could see her. Fynn came towards him like an angel.

  “Fynn, stop,” Lia said. “Go back downstairs.”

  But Fynn did not stop. He opened his arms so that she could find refuge in them, so that he could take her away. He would carry her running to the helicopter.