"This brings up my concern that you are hoping for more grandchildren. I fear Sophia will not have any siblings."
There it was: the one thing that everyone expected from me, the Kings Jewel, was to have a child. Many of my brethren thought having a baby was my only purpose in this world and that I had let them down severely.
"There is still hope for you. Or do you not believe Alexander is your Anam Cara?" I reached out and grabbed her hands, distraught that she should think this a possibility.
"Nay, never think that! I'm simply… old." To my surprise, she laughed.
"How old could you possibly be? I remember seeing you as a child the first time I left the Otherworld."
The Sidhe are long-lived, but they are not especially fertile people. Perhaps this was nature's way of balancing things.
"Seventy-one. I am seventy-one."
"It's true, that is on the older side. However, conceiving a child is still possible. Don't give up hope," she said, giving my leg a pat. "I will be like every other mother-in-law in the world, simply hoping for the best."
She rose, signaling her readiness to continue on our way. We lapsed into quiet companionship as we walked along the perimeter of the lake.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Neve stopped walking when we reached the well-worn path that ran through the camp. She spun around, taking in the Puball cloth tents, the makeshift furniture and bedding, and the community of Sidhe just beginning to wake and go about their business.
"It's just as I dreamed it," she said.
"You're having premonitions again?" Neve had an extraordinary talent of Second Sight. Alexander had it as well, but his 'gut feelings' hardly scratched the surface of his mother's ability. In the past she had foreseen dark events. "Is everything okay?" Her smile waylaid my concerns.
"This was a pleasant dream; the first in quite a while. It started here, though I didn't see you with me. I thought it was in Faery and wondered why the trees were so short. Anyway, soon after arriving, a group of beautiful Sidhe children surrounded me."
She had scarcely finished speaking when six or seven children swarmed down the path toward us. Brody was in the middle of them, holding hands with a girl two or three years older than him, running and laughing with the others. I barely recognized him as the sick boy in my parlor. His cheeks were flushed with good health.
He released his friend's hand and catapulted himself towards me. I leaned over and scooped him into my arms. The other children stopped and gathered around us.
"And who is this?" Neve asked.
"This is Brody. Two days ago he was a very sick little boy." He hugged me around my neck and then wiggled to get down. Neve reached into her pocket and pulled out a roll of fruit flavored hard candy. Each child took one from the roll before continuing their way down the path. We watched them until they turned around a bend and disappeared.
"That's why I thought I was in Faery," Neve said. "The children are wearing clothes from the Otherworld." She looked around at the adults, many still dressed in traditional garb. "It's like a small piece of Faery, right here on the estate. This reminds me of camping in the south country as a child." I nodded, although I didn't share her enthusiasm.
"Sure, and most of them will leave after the wedding. Enjoy it while you can."
The camp had come alive with activity as we strolled down the path. While Neve took in the sights and sounds around us, she told me she would soon bump into a childhood friend.
People stopped to stare as we moved along. They bowed or curtsied if they caught my eye, but they didn't return to what they were doing until after we passed by them.
"My goodness. Is it always like this for you?" Neve asked.
"I'm used to being a spectacle whenever I'm around the Sidhe. At least they're happy with me right now," I said ruefully.
We had come about halfway through the camp. Neve stopped and waited as the elderly woman Alexander and I had spoken to the other night came out of her tent, assisted by her granddaughter. The younger woman walked backwards, holding onto her grandmother's hands as she hobbled to the chair in front of the tent.
I stood quietly, not quite sure what Neve was waiting for, and sensed someone was watching us. It didn't feel like the nervous glances accompanied by giggles or furious whispering that usually followed me when in public; more like an intense, stalking presence. I glanced around discretely, trying to find the source of my discomfort; however I saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Once she had settled her grandmother in the chair, the younger woman turned and caught sight of Neve. She yelped in surprise.
"Sure, and that couldn't be Neve Falia?" she said. Neve held out her arms and the other woman ran to embrace her. "God's blessing, it's good to see you!"
"Fiona. I'm delighted you're here," Neve said, hugging her friend. She kept one arm around her waist and turned toward me. "Tressa, this is a friend from my school days. Fiona, meet my soon to be daughter-in-law, Tressa." Fiona stared at me before turning to Neve with a look of amazement.
"Your son is Nuada's Heir, the sword bearer who is about to marry the Kings jewel?" She shook her head in disbelief.
"I'm so glad to know a friend of Neve's," I said, ignoring her stupefied expression. I reached out to shake her hand. She started to curtsy, clumsily switching gears halfway down and grabbing my outstretched hand.
"Fiona, let's sit awhile and you can tell me about your life," Neve said, breaking the awkwardness of the introduction. Fiona invited us into their tent. Neve followed her, but I chose to let them have some time alone. I stooped down next to Fiona's grandmother instead.
"Mistress, I want to thank you for the wisdom you shared the other night."
I listened as she chided me for not telling her who I was when we first met, all the while scanning the area around us. My senses prickled; someone was watching us. I apologized and she took my hand and squeezed it, showing me she wasn't all that angry.
Fiona came out with a cup of tea and a slice of cake and placed it on a small table beside her grandmother's chair. The old woman tried to wave it away, scrunching her face at her granddaughter's offerings.
"Mamó, you must at least drink the tea," Fiona cajoled. "It will loosen your chest. You'll feel much better."
The old woman's chest had a slight rattling in it that hadn't been there the last time I spoke with her. I smelled the honeysuckle and pinkberry tea with approval.
"My lady—"
"Please, call me Tressa here in the Human World."
"Tressa, won't you come in and have cake with us?" she asked shyly.
I stood, intending to follow her into the tent, when a movement caught the corner of my eye. Someone in a woolen cloak and hood had come out of the shadows and into sight for a few brief seconds before disappearing into the forest. His height and stature suggested the stalker was a Sidhe, however the cloak had managed to hide his aura. Had an Unseelie gotten past Shamus's wards? I mulled over this possibility as I accepted a slice of Fiona's cake.
Fiona turned out to be quick-witted and a talented storyteller. She told several tales from Neve's and her childhood that had all of us laughing. I came away from her tent feeling content, my belly full of sweet pastries, warm tea and pleasant conversation. My earlier unease had long since been forgotten.
Neve and I strolled down the path toward the more public side of the camp. A group of musicians sat in the area where the story circle had formed several nights prior, playing a reel. A fiddle, a bodhron drum, pipes, and a harp. A harp! Had my harp player come in from the forest?
Children danced in front of the quartet, moving instinctively in the unselfconscious way of the young. Neve and I stood with the adults, looking on and clapping to the rhythm of the music. Several couples joined the children, performing a traditional folk dance in synchronization.
"This truly is like taking a trip home," Neve said, speaking into my ear. I smiled, stifling a chuckle at the simple joy the camp brought to her.
On the
opposite side of the dance floor, Kyla caught my eye, her head bobbing as she clapped and her aura glowing with good health. She waved, and I returned the gesture.
A middle-aged man close to us, clapping and stomping his foot, couldn't stay on the sidelines any longer. He approached Neve, bending at his waist with a polite bow.
"Would you care to join me in a round?" he asked. Neve curtsied and accepted his outstretched hand.
The other couples absorbed them into their circle, continuing the dance without missing a step. The bright happiness in the faces of everyone around me, dancers, musicians and even spectators, was contagious. I longed to join in the revelry.
I contained myself to clapping along; if I didn't approach the musicians at once when the song ended, I would have to wait for the end of another one. When the fiddle player drew his bow over the strings to emphasize the last note, I jumped into action.
"Excuse me sir," I called out as I approached the harpist. His eyes widened when he recognized who was addressing him.
"Aye, My Lady? Is there something special you'll be wanting us to play?"
"I was wondering if you've been practicing your harp in the woods outside the camp? I heard the most wonderful music the other day. Hearing you now, I thought surely it must have been you."
Neve bid goodbye to her partner and joined me. She smiled warmly at the musician and held her hands out.
"May I borrow your harp?" He passed it to her, and she ran her fingers gracefully across the strings. She played a couple of lines of an old lullaby. "A beautiful instrument." She looked at me as if trying to puzzle out what I was getting at by my question. "I haven't played in a long time, but I used to be quite good. Are there other gifted players here, besides yourself?"
All four musicians guffawed. "Any more harp players?" the drummer repeated. "I know of at least a dozen, myself."
Their audience shifted with impatience, too polite to shout for another tune with me taking up the band's attention. I thanked them and moved on, leaving them free to begin a new song.
"What was that about?" Neve asked.
I didn't answer; I had caught sight of Kyla again out of the corner of my eye. She had moved away from the crowd and was speaking to a Pixie hovering in front of her. Her demeanor transformed as distress radiated through her voice and body language.
"Tressa?"
"I've heard someone playing outside of the camp. I thought maybe they could tell me who it was," I answered distractedly as I continued to watch Kyla. Her sister had told me they didn't bring their Pixies with them.
I led Neve over to the girl to find out what had distressed her so. The Pixie, a blond, wavy-haired boy wearing overall shorts, gestured wildly with his hands. He bounced with each thrust of his arm; it made me dizzy to watch him. He looked as serious as a Pixie could. As we drew closer I noticed he had singe marks on the ends of his hair and the top edge of his left wing.
"Kyla, is everything okay?" I asked, alarmed at the Pixie's appearance.
"I have to find my sisters," she said, speaking more to herself than to me. "Something awful has happened."
"Disaster!" the Pixie said, throwing up both arms to emphasize his point.
Kyla, in a stupor, took a few steps and stumbled. Neve and I stood on each side of her and helped her to a chair outside a nearby tent. Neve asked the inhabitants for a glass of water while I sent the Pixie to go get her sisters.
"Can you tell us what happened?" I asked Kyla after she had taken a sip of the water. She nodded and handed the glass back to Neve. I knelt on the ground to be on her level, mud soaking through the knees of my pants.
"My Pixie arrived with a message from home. Deaglan Mór has attacked our village." She closed her eyes and swallowed, bracing herself for her next statement. "He and his rebels killed most of the people living there—my grandparents, my uncle." She stopped and took a shaky breath. Tears covered her face. "My parents got away. They're hiding in the mountains with the other survivors… He destroyed the village using dragon breath."
I shuddered, imagining the flames. I glanced up at Neve and we shared a moment of dread. This could have been a retelling of Sloan's story; it was so similar. The fighting seemed somehow more real, more horrifying, knowing that to Kyla it was personal. Suddenly the happy music grated on my nerves.
"Where was your village located?" I asked.
"Beside the Croí River, near the Fossilized Forest."
Her sisters arrived, looking as distraught as Kyla. I backed away, giving them the room and privacy to comfort each other.
"Did you know about this?" Neve asked, shocked.
"Sloan brought us a similar message just yesterday. The fighting was much further away from Tir na nÓg according to Sloan's story; time must be moving fast in Faery." Time moved at different speeds in the Human World versus the Otherworld. It was impossible to predict what the difference would be at any particular moment.
"My Lady," Kyla called, her voice not much more than a sob. "He has the Cauldron, the Undry. What will happen to our people if the Unseelie get the last two treasures?"
A few people from the crowd heard her cry, and a murmur grew as they repeated the news. They closed in around us, urgently waiting to hear my response. My breath quickened as I felt their heat advancing on me; I had no idea what I could say to calm them. Seeing my distress, Neve took the lead.
"I am Neve of the House of Falias. You all know that my family is blessed with the gift of Darna Shealladh. I tell you now, I have foreseen our salvation coming in my lifetime. This King's Jewel will fulfil the prophecy," Neve pronounced, loud enough for everyone to hear.
I stared at her, my mouth hanging open in astonishment and my heart racing. I simply couldn't believe she had made such a sweeping promise. The Sidhe within earshot cheered, several of them running to spread the word to the rest of the camp. Others shouted out questions to Neve, only to have their words lost in the confusion. I grabbed her arm.
"Why did you do that?"
"Because it's true. I don't know how he got the Dagda's Cauldron, but it won't stop the course of the prophecy."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ALEXANDER
Ronan claimed to be investigating the murder of the Leprechaun and had told me that I needn't bother. If he had learned anything about who had killed him and why, he wasn't sharing.
The incident had been too strange and too close to home for me to stand by and do nothing, but Matt and I had gotten nowhere with the little investigating we were doing behind his back. The only contact I had outside the Sidhe community was Gobban. I decided to see if he knew anything that could help; he had been evasive with Tressa, but he might behave differently with me.
At the end of our long winding driveway I found Sloan walking along the side of the road, a backpack slung over her shoulders and the stray dog she had picked up in Faery following at her heels. I drove up next to her and lowered the passenger side window.
"Running away from home?" I asked.
"Very funny. I'm going into town," she said in a tone that warned me not to tell her otherwise.
"You're going to walk all that way?"
"Max can't flit," she said with a glare, the very picture of teenage attitude. I sighed and pushed the button to unlock the car.
"Get in. I'm going there myself."
She let the dog into the backseat and threw the backpack in behind him before getting into the seat next to me and slamming the door closed. She clicked her seatbelt and sat, arms folded across her chest. I thought a thank you would have been more appropriate than the attitude, but let it go.
"Are you going to tell me what's in Findale?" I asked.
"Nothing, really," she said, staring out the side window. "It's just that when I came here, I was sick and tired of the Sidhe. They have a thing against tattoos, and they're not afraid to preach to you about it. Now the estate is teaming with them. I wanted to get away."
"Hmm, I know the feeling." She narrowed her eyes.
&nbs
p; "Are you making fun of me?" I chuckled and shook my head.
"I'm the human who carries Nuada's Sword. They like to stare at me too, and it's not usually with love in their eyes."
She relaxed a little in her seat, our shared experience making her more comfortable with me. She looked over her shoulder at Max, who was sniffing and scratching at something he'd found.
"What have you got there, boy?" Sloan asked.
She reached behind my seat and took something from the dog's mouth. It was the arrow from the attack on the Leprechaun. I had brought it along, intending to show it to Gobban—it had been in a plastic grocery bag.
"Damn! It's an arrow. Where did you get this?"
"Have you ever seen one like that?"
"Yeah, I think so. Anyway, arrows with this same reddish shaft were all over the battlefield at Castle Conall. I've watched the King's Guard do their exercises; theirs looked like this one, but the feather part had different symbols painted on them. Where did you get it?"
"It's the one that almost hit Tressa at the camp the other day." Sloan's information didn't give me much, but at least it confirmed that the attacker was a Fae.
Parking was scarce downtown; we had to park several blocks from Gobban's store. I fed the meter with a handful of quarters as, without discussing it, Sloan put the arrow in her bag and came along with me.
We took a shortcut, turning up an alley that would end next to the furniture store. Store backs with apartments on the upper floors lined both sides of the alley. There were dumpsters and the occasional car parked along the sides of the buildings.
We had only gone a few steps when a small figure appeared from an alley on the left, about midway down the narrow lane. He walked in our direction.
"Is that Gobban?" I asked, squinting at a Leprechaun with gray tufts of hair and a beard. He was back-lit by the sun and I couldn't see his face. Sloan, being a Sidhe, had superior eyesight.
"No, but he could be his brother."
He stared at Sloan as he rushed toward us. We were about 10 feet away from him when he called out.
Deaglan's Deception Page 10
