A Fine Cauldron Of Fish

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A Fine Cauldron Of Fish Page 6

by Cornelia Amiri


  “What can I do?” The man’s eyes gleamed.

  “I am told you are a druid and you can invoke the god Mannan beg mac y Leir. Only he can release Margaid from her vow of slavery to me.”

  “But you are a non-believer.” The druid gazed at him with those piercing blue eyes, challenging him.

  “I believe in Margaid. I can see and hear her. And I believe that Mannan can make her human so we can be together, if that’s what she wishes. It’s our only chance at happiness. I want no other woman, only Margaid. She is my future.”

  “Mannan can be like a storm rising off the ocean, such is his temper, and he may not take well to your request,” the druid warned.

  Andrew nodded. “I have been told of the risk.”

  “I can perform a ritual. But once I start, there is no turning back. Are you sure you want to do this?” the druid asked.

  “Yes.” Andrew gazed into Margaid’s large eyes as he took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I have to do this. You are not meant to be a slave.”

  “I want to be with you in whatever way I can.”

  “Margaid, if you love me, let me do this. I need to.”

  “I do love you and I can’t talk you out of this. So I’ll stand by your side as you speak with Mannan beg mac y Leir.”

  “Very well,” the shop owner let out a long sigh, “come into the back of the store, I have a small temple there.”

  Andrew clutched Margaid’s warm, soft hand, squeezing it as they walked together, following the druid into a back room.

  The druid gestured. “Margaid, you sit here, and Andrew, you sit there, facing each other.” The druid sat a fat candle on the center of the table and lit it. “Reach across the table and grasp each other’s hands.” The druid raised his arms in the air.

  Andrew reached out to stop him. “First, shouldn’t we introduce ourselves? My name is Andrew, and you know of Margaid.” Again Andrew noticed the druid smiling at Margaid and he swore he could see her. “And what’s your name?”

  “My name is...well they call me Orbsen mac Alloid.”

  “Orbsen, I’m glad to meet you.” He reached out and shook the druid’s hand. Andrew almost yelled ouch. The old man had a surprisingly strong grip for his age.

  Margaid grabbed Andrew’s shoulder and he tilted his head toward her, but she didn’t say anything. Her face was red, tense, and lined. The nails of her hand pressed against his skin. She stood up and pointed at the druid, then swung her head back to Andrew. Trying to tell him something important, her lips moved, but she didn't utter a sound.

  “What’s wrong?” Something’s not right. “We have to go.” He shot up out of his seat, but Margaid shook her head no. “I mean we’ll stay.” Andrew looked at Margaid, who now bobbed her head up and down. She wanted to stay but still, something was wrong. “Okay, we’ll stay.”

  He shifted his gaze back to Orbsen and shrugged to hide his confusion. “Shouldn’t I pay you first?”

  “No, not me.” The druid remained calm in his expression and tone as he still sat in the wooden chair. “The god will ask for a sacrifice. Sometimes he wants it in a golden bauble or a sword, but other times he will ask for much more.”

  Andrew gulped, knowing he could easily be dead, drained of all of his blood at the hands of the god himself or another lhiannan shee. Margaid squeezed his hand tight, but she no longer dug her nails into him and her face was less lined. She was more relaxed, yet still unable to speak. He had to fight through the gamut of confusion, fear, anxiety, excitement, curiosity, and love for Margaid. As she sat back down, so did he.

  Andrew nodded to the druid to begin.

  Orbsen mac Alloid scooted his chair back, and with one fluid movement he stood. He lifted his hands into the air, waving them in a circular motion. Suddenly, the air sparked and an amber light circled Orbsen. He transformed before Margaid and Andrew into a luminescent figure wearing a pale blue tunic, with a silver belt covered in knot work, and a darker blue cloak adorned with silver swirls. It was pinned with a large, penannular brooch.

  Margaid gulped. “Why did you take my voice away?” She gazed accusingly at the druid.

  “Because sometimes you speak too much. Still I will hear what you ask of me and I will consider your request based on the service you have given me.”

  “What are you talking about?” Andrew whipped his neck toward the druid. “Who are you?”

  “It’s him.” Margaid let go of Andrew’s hand, clasped her palms together and stepped forward to Orbsen. “I failed as a lhiannan shee.”

  “You didn’t find a man to seduce?”

  “No, I found one, but he seduced me and now I’m his slave.”

  Andrew tried to stay calm but he wanted to grab Margaid’s hand and run as fast as he could.

  “It is good you have come to me.” The glowing god with long shivery hair held out his hands to Margaid. “I will help you. I will slay him so you will be free to seduce a man who cannot resist you.”

  “No, no, don’t do that.” She waved her hands in front of the god’s face. “I don’t mind being his slave. I want to be with him.”

  Andrew looked the god straight in the eye. “We love each other and you can’t change that.”

  The sea god ignored him and peered at Margaid. “What?” His silvery brows arched and his glowing eyes widened. “He must be quite a man.”

  “Oh, he is.” Margaid stood up and moved behind Andrew, who stood as well. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and chest “Here he is, his name is Andrew.”

  Andrew turned his head and gently placed a whispery kiss on Margaid's soft cheek. Then he turned his gaze back to the deity. “You are a trickster god aren’t you? I am not afraid of you and I won’t let you hurt Margaid. I’ll have you know, she is not a failure. She is the most wonderful lhiannan shee and the greatest woman I’ve ever met.”

  Mannon’s lips turned up into a broad smile and he nodded at Margaid. “It doesn’t sound like he resisted your charms. It sounds like he is enchanted by you.”

  “Well, I don’t have his blood in my red cauldron.”

  “I can see that.” For the first time Mannon peered at Andrew. “Your blood is still inside you, right?”

  “Yes, no one drained my blood and I plan to keep it that way.”

  The god chuckled warmly. “Well, I can understand why you would prefer that.”

  “But I also want Margaid free. She deserves more than to live her entire life as my slave, and I won’t let you to turn her into a water horse either.”

  “Oh, I was looking forward to turning you into a cabyll-ushtey, Margaid.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t. But if changing me into a water horse will keep Andrew safe, I would willingly become one.”

  Mannon raised his huge cape up. “If I flap this cloak between you, the two of you will forget each other forever.”

  “God Mannan beg mac y Leir, if it means he will still live, then do it. I don’t want him harmed just because he wants me free.”

  The god chuckled and let go of his cloak so the hem hit the floor.

  Andrew quivered. Mannan beg mac y Leir seemed so cruel, to actually laugh at them. If only he didn’t harm Margaid, then Andrew could live with whatever the god dished out to him.

  "Let’s run through this again. Andrew, you want Margaid to be free, not a slave to you and not a lhiannan shee to me. A free, human woman. And you are willing to die to ask the favor for her.” Then the god turned to Margaid. “You want Andrew to be kept safe and unharmed and you are willing to let me turn you into a cabyll-ushtey, which is in truth your greatest fear.”

  Andrew gazed into Margaid’s eyes and they both answered yes.

  The god’s brow furrowed. “So you would sacrifice yourselves for each other.”

  Andrew placed his hand gently on Margaid’s shoulder and leaned down to her. “You shouldn’t do that. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”

  “Nor I you. The worst he will do to me is turn me into a water ho
rse. I would rather have that than for you to be killed or harmed.”

  Mannon bellowed, “Why would you do this? Why sacrifice yourselves?” He turned to Andrew. “She’s a lhiannan shee, who tried to drain your blood.” He glared at Margaid. “He’s an American tourist, who tried to commit you to a mental hospital.”

  “She couldn’t help it.”

  “He didn’t mean to.”

  “You are both daft.” The god shook his head.

  “I love him.”

  “I love her.”

  “Oh love. You love each other,” the sea god said with disdain.

  “Don’t hurt her.” Andrew pulled Margaid behind him to protect her.

  But she jumped out in front of him. “No, do whatever you want with me. You can change me into a water horse, you can change me into a barnacle, but let Andrew go.”

  Silence descended as Mannan lifted his spear. Just as fast as he raised his weapon, he dropped it to his side in a stance of peace and he burst out in a deep, warm chuckle. “Why would I harm either of you? I have nothing against love. I just wanted to see if it was true. Honestly, I have never seen a worse case of true love.”

  Mannan grasped the hilt of the magic sword hanging from his belt and withdrew the long, gleaming blade. He held it high and chanted. “Without delay, for love’s sake, I, the god of the sea, transform this fey to a mortal woman. In darkness and light, now and forever, so it shall be.”

  A ray of golden light burst into the air surrounding the long sword like a halo. “By the righteousness of my blade, Fragarach, you are free from the fey bonds and life of the lhiannan shee. You’re human, Margaid.”

  *****

  Heat filled her body from her heart to her belly and radiated outward to her skin. A rapt joy bubbled in the core of her being. From the tips of her toes and fingers the sensation of transformation deepened until she could barely stand. Margaid reached out her hand to steady herself as she staggered. She started to fall.

  Andrew caught her with both hands on her waist. A mystifying tremor coursed through her body. Then it all stopped. Her heart fluttered. She slowed her huffing and caught her breath. This was it, the most profound moment of her long life. “I am human.”

  Gazing at her patron god, warm joy bubbled in her. “God of the sea, I give thanks to you for granting my wish. Blessings upon you great god, Mannan beg mac y Leir.” But how can I repay him. Is he not the most wonderful god? “I am sorry I failed you as a lhiannan shee.”

  “You didn’t. I wait for my lhiannan shee to come out of their caves under the sea and find a man to seduce. When they do, they fall in love.” Joy shined in his eyes and the warmth of his smile echoed in his rich, deep, yet melodic voice. “Margaid, I am known as the trickster god and rightly so for I do love a good joke. And my lhiannan shee are a good joke on me. None of them have the spirit for seducing men or shedding blood. Take your rightful form as a mortal, as it fits your spirit best and be off with your true love.”

  “Oh, I’m so happy.“ She wrapped her arms around Andrew. “Now I can truly be your lover. As a free woman, I choose to stay with you forever.” People can see me and talk to me. I don’t have to fill a red cauldron with blood. I can throw the cauldron out.

  “By the way, I’ll need my red cauldron back.” Mannon folded his arms across his chest.

  Andrew’s gleaming eyes widened. “Margaid, you’re human.” His smile broadened. “And you want to stay with me.”

  “Forever,” she whispered. Then she let out a squeal of happiness. “I am human and you are human and we are together, whoop, whoop, dee doo.”

  She breathed in his musky outdoor scent and enjoyed the feel of his muscular shoulders beneath her hands.

  She leaned her face to his and pressed her lips against his firm chin, all over booth sculptured cheeks, and across his smooth forehead in feathery light pecks. Everywhere but his lips. She flicked her tongue out, and with the tip only, she traced the outline of his lips. Her hunger to cover his mouth with hers intensified until she almost wanted to scream. Still she held back. She puckered her lips and pushed them against his in a fast smooch. She then scraped her teeth against his lower lip and drew away, leaning her head back. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head to his. Crushing her lips with his. He twisted his mouth over hers, his hot wet lips massaging hers. He forced her lips open with a thrust of his tongue. Margaid moaned and shivered with desire as he stroked her mouth with his pliable tongue. She met his fervor as her tongue curled, danced and twined together with his.

  Margaid heard someone enter the room but she wasn’t about to let anyone or anything interrupt this kiss.

  “Hello,” somebody called.

  A lady cleared her throat as loudly as possible until Andrew withdrew his mouth from Margaid’s and turned his head to see who’d come in.

  “Hello, you’re the nurse from the hospital.” Andrew’s brow crinkled and his eyebrows arched.

  What is she doing here? Margaid glared at the nurse.

  “She's more than a nurse.” Mannan flashed a wry grin.

  The nurse gave a slight shrug. “I’m a druidess as well.”

  “High priestess to Mannan beg mac y Leir,” the god announced.

  “Mannan didn’t have another lhiannan shee drain my blood. It worked. Margaid’s human now,” Andrew told her, then turned his gaze back to Margaid and made love to her with his eyes.

  “I knew it would.” The nurse walked to them. “Mannan beg mac y Leir is a trickster, his rage can be as wild as a storm, but love doesn’t anger him, except when someone steals his lover away.”

  Mannan held his palms up. “Don't bring up Fand.”

  “Well, though your wife left you once, she came back and that says a lot.” The nurse-druidess smiled sweetly at her patron god.

  While the god and the druidess talked to each other, Margaid leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips, still swollen from the previous kiss, against Andrew’s. Their lips molded together. His lips were incredible, hot and moist. Her mouth tingled as her lips moved with his.

  As he suckled her lips, his hand slid down her dress to the bulge of her breasts and he squeezed a cloth-covered mound. Her knees trembled. Even with the barrier of the fabric, she felt the sultry heat of his palm. Her breasts throbbed and she felt her nipples tighten until they were erect. She felt on fire. Heightening the kiss, he tugged gently on her lower lip with his teeth, nibbling until she moaned.

  Andrew pulled Margaid to him, crushing her against his rock-hard body. Slipping between her parted lips, he thrust his soft, warm tongue hard into her mouth. His tongue made sweeping motions and whisked her mouth as she dug her nails into his shoulders. Then his tongue found hers and they tangled together. Margaid felt like melted wax pooled into liquid heat at the base of a long, thick, flaming candle that never burned out.

  The nurse-druid begged for their attention by clearing her throat as loudly as possible.

  Margaid wanted to hit her. Why is she here? Doesn’t she have better things to do?

  Andrew eased his mouth away from Margaid’s and they both turned toward the obnoxious noise.

  “Go back to the hospital,” Margaid told her.

  The nurse-druidess’ laugher rippled through the air. “So it all worked out and you are going to get married now.” Her mouth curved into a friendly smile.

  “Why not?” Andrew gulped. He bent down on one knee. “I don’t have a ring for you yet, but I’ll get you one. For now though all I can do is ask. Margaid, will you marry me?”

  Flooded with joy, ready to burst free of earth and float to the sky, her throat tightened and her eyes welled up until she couldn’t speak. This time at least, she knew it wasn’t because of Mannan‘s enchantment.

  After taking a slow, deep breath, she squeaked out, “Yes, I will.” Tears slid down her cheeks.

  “I can perform the ceremony.” Mannan beg mac y Leir beamed even brighter.

  “Now?” Margaid gazed into Andrew’s eyes. “You want to marr
y me now? But I don’t have a cake or flowers or a silk and satin gown.” What am I saying? I should have stopped at yes.

  “Yes, now.” Andrew’s face beamed like the summer sun. “Why not?”

  Margaid shrugged. “There’s no reason not to. We’ll get a cake later.” She wanted to scream and yell with joy.

  “I'll change things around.” Mannan conjured up enough white roses to fill the room.

  The nurse-druidess pulled two gold-speckled, white robes out of the closet and handed one each to Margaid and Andrew.

  “I forgot, the father of the bride’s supposed to pay for the wedding and Mannan beg mac y Leir, you owe me for all you put me through, so where is my cake?”

  “Margaid, you’ll get fat.” Mannan winked.

  “Cake now,” Margaid commanded the god.

  “Chocolate?” he meekly asked.

  “Of course.” She nodded.

  An eight-layer tier cake, taller than Margaid, suddenly appeared.

  Andrew looked scared. “I can’t eat all that.”

  “I can,” Margaid smugly announced as she licked her lips. “It is Belgian?” She glanced sideways at the god.

  “Of course, Margaid.” He sounded hurt. “I would never proffer a faithful servant less than the best. Made just this morn by descendants of the ancient Belgae tribe, worshipers of mine. They created the delectable masterpiece as an offering to me and trust me, you don’t even want to know the blessing they are asking for.”

  “Don’t tell us.” Andrew rolled his eyes. “I really don’t want to know. I just want to marry Margaid.” With a quick smack, he planted a warm, wet kiss on her plump lips.

  “Let’s get on with the wedding.”

  As he stood in his robe, waiting for the nurse-druid to finish braiding white roses in Margaid's hair to go with her milk-toned, gold speckled robe, he asked the god, “Why are the lhiannan shee different than other vampires, they don’t drink blood, just drain it into red cauldrons?”

  Mannan laughed. “My lhiannan shee love chocolate. They can’t stand the taste of blood. So I have them keep it in a red cauldron. Pretty funny, don’t you think? And even so, they never take any blood. It’s just not their way. Their cauldrons are always empty.”

 

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