Ren nodded, a movement he regretted the moment he did it. "I think our nightmare is a part of it. At least that's what the Hag claims."
That gave Darragh pause. "So the children I sire someday are going to be the Matrarchaí's instruments to force Partition?"
"So the rumour goes."
"Good thing I've been in prison then," he said with a sour smile. "Check this out."
Darragh had been inspecting the room as they talked. Ren tried to make out what he could of their location from the view outside, but like the view from upstairs, other than the gardens there was nothing to give any indication of where they might be, particularly now it was almost completely dark.
He turned and walked to the fireplace where Darragh was standing. On the mantel sat a glass case with a spectacular dagger resting on a red velvet bed.
"Bet you anything you name that blade is airgead sídhe."
Ren had to agree. The silver blade was engraved with the language of the Tuatha Dé Danann and the hilt was inset with amethyst, garnets and a large sapphire on the pommel. Its value must have been incalculable.
"We use it to test for the psychic link between twins."
They hadn't realized they were no longer alone. Ren and Darragh both turned to find a tall woman dressed in a long, dark-red, off-the-shoulder evening gown standing in the doorway, hand on the latch, smiling at them. It was impossible to guess her age. She could have been anything from twenty-five to fifty - or, given the likelihood of her sídhe origins, far older, even than that. Around her neck she wore a necklace almost identical to the one Ren had taken from Kiva. The one he had pulled apart and then swallowed after the Hag had had the rubies infused with magic.
But it wasn't the necklace that made Ren stare at her in shock. Take away the evening gown, the French-tipped nails and the sleek chignon, and he was looking at the Hag in her aspect of a younger woman.
And she, he realized now, shared a disturbing resemblance to the long dead Delphine.
The woman smiled at their shock, although Ren guessed she believed it was from her sudden and unexpected appearance. Unless she'd been listening to their conversation just now, she couldn't know he'd had any dealings with the Hag in his own realm.
What had the old woman said? "I am helping you, because I have seen that I must. I have a role to play in this. And some responsibility, too, perhaps."
Some responsibility, indeed, Ren thought, when it's your eileféin who is out to destroy your world.
"Let me look at you," the woman said. And then she smiled warmly and added something even more shocking than the realization that this woman was just another, perhaps more corrupt - and certainly better dressed - version of the Hag.
"I want to see what sort of men my sons have grown into," she said.
"Sons?" Ren managed after a moment.
Mother looked at him oddly for a moment and then laughed. "Dear God, did you think I meant that literally?"
For a moment there, he had thought she meant it literally, but before he could admit to anything so ridiculous, Darragh answered for him. "Of course he didn't," Darragh said. "Our mother was a beautiful woman."
She seemed amused. "I see a decade in Portlaoise has sharpened your tongue and stolen your manners, young man."
"Who are you?"
"I am Mother."
"Whose mother?" Ren asked.
"I am the Mother of the Matrarchaí."
"You look like the Hag."
Her smile faded as she turned her attention to Ren. "You have met my eileféin?"
"Briefly."
"You can't be the Hag's eileféin," Darragh said, grimacing as if the idea was made even worse because of his Brionglóid Gorm headache. "She is one of the Brethren. She is sídhe. This realm has no magic. It would kill her to step into this realm. If you were sídhe, it would kill you, too."
"Doesn't that strike you as bizarre?" Mother asked. "Doesn't it seem foolish that a race as powerful as the sídhe - a race with the ability to heal with a thought, travel instantaneously through space and time and cross realities at will - would allow themselves to be so vulnerable to something as unstable as atmospheric magic?" When neither of them answered her, she smiled. "I see. Is it that you are ignorant of the true purpose of the Matrarchaí, or that you just don't care?"
"Why should we care?" Ren asked. "According to the Hag, your true purpose is to force Partition."
"Because apparently it doesn't bother you that by doing that," Darragh added, "all other realities and every living creature in them will cease to exist."
"So you're not completely ignorant of what Partition means then."
"What do you want of -" Darragh stopped as the lights suddenly dimmed and then, after a second or two came back on again.
Mother glanced up and then smiled. "Don't worry, we have backup generators here."
"Of course you do," Ren said.
She stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her. "You know, to be honest, I'm not entirely sure what to do with you two. You were have supposed to have died a decade ago. It always bothered me that you didn't, but as nothing seemed to happen with you afterwards, I guess I fell into the trap of thinking your continued existence wasn't important. You'd think, after all this time, I'd know better than to assume any such thing."
"Are you going to kill us?" Darragh asked wearily. "Because if you are, could you do it soon, please? I have a splitting headache and, really, I'm not in the least bit interested in listening to you justify the obliteration of trillions for whatever obscure reason you've thought up to rationalise it away in your own head."
Mother's smile had faded. She clearly wasn't used to being dismissed in such a cavalier fashion. Or having her plans trivialized by someone who should probably be begging for his life. "Be careful what you wish for, Darragh of the Undivided. I haven't decided if you will die or not."
"Well, make up your mind soon," Ren said, taking his cue from Darragh. He wasn't sure if Darragh was being clever or he genuinely did want to die, but his attitude was riling Mother and that was probably useful if they wanted to learn things other than what she wanted them to know. "I have a headache, too."
Mother looked at Ren and then at Darragh, and then laughed as if she realized what they were doing. "Ah, the boldness of young men who imagine they're immortal. Do you think I am fooled by your bravado?"
"Don't care to be honest," Ren said with a shrug. "But if you are going to kill us, then please do it soon. I -"
There was a knock on the door before Ren could add anything further. Clearly annoyed by the interruption, she walked to the door, jerked it open and leaned out to speak to whoever was on the other side of the door. After a brief exchange she closed the door again and turned to them with all trace of humor, or interest in them, gone.
"I'm sorry, something has come up that needs my attention. I may be a while. I'll have your dinner sent in. We can talk later."
Without waiting for them to answer, she turned on her heel and left them alone in the dining room.
Ren stared after her for a moment and then looked at Darragh. "How can that woman be the Hag's eileféin?"
"Same way you and I are almost pure sídhe, I suppose," Darragh said. "You claim Matrarchaí have been manipulating bloodlines for thousands of years. I guess there's your proof. She must have enough human blood in her so she can walk magic-less worlds with impunity. Do you suppose the Hag knows her eileféin is the ringleader of the Matrarchaí?"
"She did worry about having some responsibility for this fiasco. What do you suppose happened to make Mother run out of here like that?"
"Who knows?" Darragh said, pulling out one of the carved, tall-backed chairs at the dining table. He sat himself down and put his head in his hands. "I just hope she stays away long enough for us to figure out how to get out of here and home."
Ren walked back to the window. It had started to rain; a gentle fall that was as much mist, as it was actual rain. In the distance, he noticed headligh
ts coming toward the main building up the long driveway, but it was impossible to tell what sort of vehicle it was. At least it didn't seem to have flashing blue lights on the roof. He turned to Darragh and smiled sourly. "In that case, let's hope she doesn't come back for a very long time."
Chapter 52
Annad's wife didn't take the news that Pete and his brother and their friends, had come here from another reality filled with Faerie terribly well, even with a pixie and a Leipreachán right in front of them to prove their story.
Stella decided they were mad and told them so. Annad was a criminal psychologist. He was much more considered in his response, but he was still speaking to Pete and Logan like they were sharing a joint delusion, rather than just lying to him, and even though he'd had more time to adjust to the idea, he still didn't seem convinced. If anything, his wife's scepticism had hardened his resolve. Last night, when he'd first met Echo, Pete thought Annad was a believer.
"I'm sure you think you've been to these wonderful places," Annad said carefully. "But -"
"Annad, there is a Leipreachán sitting on your kitchen counter. There is a pixie perched on top of your fridge. You've had conversations with both of them. What part of this isn't real enough for you?"
"They're probably some sort of remote-controlled toys," Stella scoffed, staring at Toyoda in utter disbelief. "I mean ... a Leipreachán? Please! He's dressed like a ninja."
"Don't even try to explain that part," Trása sighed, shaking her head. She had Toyoda firmly by the hand to stop him waning out of the kitchen, but even his presence wasn't convincing Stella of anything. "What is it about humans in this realm? Why can't you just accept what Pete's telling you? What you can see with your own eyes, for that matter?"
"Because it's insane," Stella told her bluntly, not nearly as considerate of their mental health as her husband.
Pete turned to Annad. He'd had longer to get used to the idea that Faeries were real. If he could be convinced, maybe that would convince his wife. "Where do you think I've been these past ten years, Annad? Didn't anybody do anything when I just vanished?"
"I thought you were in America."
That was unexpected. "Why America?"
"That's what Brendá Duggan told everyone. She said you'd gone to America. She said you resigned."
Pete glanced at Logan in surprise. For some reason, he imagined that he'd be listed as a missing person somewhere. That someone still occasionally glanced through the files and tried to solve the mystery of what had happened to Pete and Logan Doherty, last seen walking into the Sears Tower in Chicago and never heard from again. "What about Logan? How did they explain away his disappearance?"
"I've no idea where he is supposed to have been," Annad said. "Why would I even bother to ask? Or for that matter, even be aware that he was missing?"
"He's got a point," Logan agreed with a shrug, "although I would have thought someone might have questioned my sudden resignation."
"Why would they?" Stella muttered.
Why would they, indeed?
Annad seemed surprised he'd even asked the question. "Brendá said you'd been offered a chance to do your PhD in the Forensic Psychology program at Yale. I was a bit miffed, actually, that you didn't call me and tell me yourself."
That was clever. And something he hadn't expected, although now he thought about it, Pete supposed he and Logan weren't the first twins brought here to this realm by the Matrarchaí to be raised away from the magic they could so effortlessly wield. And they wouldn't be the first human-looking sídhe twins to have lived here, leading ordinary lives among ordinary people, and not know a damned thing about what they were while the Matrarchaí dabbled with their breeding lines. The Matrarchaí must be well practised in "disappearing" people whose agelessness would start to raise questions if they remained in this realm for too long.
That wasn't something he could explain easily to Annad and his wife, though. "Look, whether you think we're nuts or not, Annad, I just need you to believe us long enough for your wife to get us into Cambria Castle."
"Why?" Annad asked, putting his arm around his wife's shoulder in a very protective gesture.
"That doesn't matter. We just need to be there."
Annad was no fool. He figured it out in a few seconds. "You think Darragh is there, don't you? And maybe even Ren." Pete might have been impressed by his quick wit, if he hadn't caught Annad's gaze flickering over to the phone on the wall by the kitchen door. He had to remind himself that Annad, even though he seemed to be a friend, still worked for the Gardaí and they had probably just given away the location of the dangerous fugitive every cop in Europe was looking for.
The psychologist's face softened and he shook his head sadly. "My God, Pete, what happened? You used to be a cop. You were a rising star in the Gardaí. Now you're hiding out here, trying to find a way to aid a couple of deluded criminals who are responsible for at least one death we know of, and probably many more."
"Definitely more than one. Don't forget the girl they kidnapped and killed," Stella reminded him.
"Actually, it turns out she wasn't killed. She came back."
"Really?" Trása asked in surprise. Pete realized that with everything else going on, he hadn't had time to tell Trása and Nika about that.
"When did that happen?" Stella asked.
"A few days ago," Annad told her.
Trása threw her hands up impatiently. "Then why don't you believe us? Surely Hayley told you where she's been."
"She says she doesn't remember."
"Can't blame her for that," Nika said, "given the reaction of people in this realm to the truth."
"This is ridiculous," Stella scoffed. "I don't know what you people are on, or what you slipped into my tea to make me see things, but there is nothing for you at Cambria Castle. It's a private clinic, that's all. There are certainly no escaped prisoners lurking in the halls."
"We're wasting time, Pete," Logan announced impatiently. "Just have Toyoda glamour her and be done with it."
Pete shook his head. "She has to talk us through more than the door," he reminded his brother. "A glamouring won't last more than a few minutes."
"Isn't this place a hotel?" Trása asked, as if she agreed with Logan. "Why don't we just check in?"
"Because we need to get to the clinic part of the castle."
"Why?"
"That be where Renkavana and his brother be," Toyoda announced. "That be where the Matrarchaí be taking them."
Everyone was silent for a moment. It was Nika, impatient and practical as always, who broke the tense silence. "Oh, please! You are all acting as if anybody here is surprised to know that our purpose in this realm is to find Ren and Darragh. You," she said, pointing to Annad. "You will wait here with Trása and me. Pete and Logan will go -"
"Absolutely not," Annad announced.
"I wasn't asking."
"But I am telling you," the psychologist informed Nika with quiet confidence. "Under no circumstances are you bringing more trouble to our home."
Nika glared at him for a moment and then she seemed to concede the point. Pete thought he understood. The loss of Nika's home still galled her, even after all these years. Annad was much more perceptive that Pete gave him credit for.
"Very well ... in that case you will take Trása and me back to the stone circle where we entered this realm. The midwife will go with Pete and Logan to this castle. They will find Rónán and his brother, and meet us back at the circle."
"What's the point?" Trása asked. "We can't open the rift from this side."
"Actually, we might be able to," Pete said, thinking Nika might be on to something. "Ren's managed to wane in and out of Portlaoise to rescue Darragh. He's packing some powerful magic to do that in this realm. He might still be charged up enough to get us home."
"If he has the power to wane, then why doesn't he just wane out of Cambria Castle?" Logan asked.
"The Matrarchaí be using Brionglóid Gorm on Renkavana and his brother," T
oyoda told them. "They not even be awake when they be taken. And they still be asleep when me and the pixie be seeing them last."
"But when he does wake up, waning out of there is likely to be the first thing Ren does, so if we're going to find him and our way out of here, we need to get to the castle and find our boy before he uses up all the juice for our ticket home." Pete turned to Stella. "Can you ring the clinic and let them know you're coming to do a checkup on the woman who delivered last night?"
"I'll do no such thing," Stella announced, folding her arms across her body. She seemed to be avoiding looking at Toyoda or Echo, as if by acknowledging their presence she'd have to accept the rest of their crazy story was true, also. "And there is nothing you can say or do that will make me take part in this."
There was a moment of tense silence before Nika strode to the kitchen counter and grabbed a framed photo of a boy and a girl dressed in private school uniforms. "I will hunt your children down and kill them if you don't."
Pete stared at her in surprise. He was certain she wasn't capable of doing anything of the kind, but she sounded frighteningly convincing.
And apparently it was enough to convince Stella. The doctor snatched up the framed photo, glowered at Nika for a moment, and then glanced at her husband. She was blaming him for bringing these people - and this threat to their children - into her house. "Fine. I'll call them. I'll take you there. I'll even get you inside. But it won't do you any good. Nobody is harboring any escaped fugitives in the Cambria Castle birthing suite. This is a waste of time, and when the Gardaí catch you, as they inevitably will, you're all going to wind up back in Portlaoise alongside your friends."
Chapter 53
At first, Teagan didn't know what had happened to Brydie. One minute she was there, the next she was gone. The incomprehensible truth took a little time to register.
When she did realize what had happened, when she looked down to find herself covered in blood and bits of gore, she bent over and was violently ill, her vomit adding to the stench of fresh blood that made the walls glisten in the moonlight.
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