Reunion

by Jennifer Fallon

  Darragh dismissed the thought as absurd, almost as soon as it occurred to him. Whatever had gone on this past decade, the dreams had stopped, which meant Rónán had stalled the events leading to that awful, watershed moment for the better part of a decade.

  Given they both had the ability to see the future, given the nature and the intensity of their nightmare, given their knowledge of what was to come, Darragh was fairly certain that if their roles were reversed he'd do exactly the same thing.

  They were twins, after all, and despite their diverse upbringings more alike than not in so many, many things.

  "How is she?"

  "Trása?"

  "Of course."

  Rónán's face softened for a moment, which told Darragh more than any words might about his brother's feelings for her. "She's become the de-facto Queen of the Faerie. The lesser Youkai are nuts about her."

  Darragh smiled. "She'd like that."

  "She never let up demanding I come rescue you," Rónán added. "I ended up having to tell her about the dreams to shut her up."

  "I wondered if she was still angry with me for not insisting she be allowed to stay in Sí an Bhrú when her father sent her away."

  "I think that's long forgiven and forgotten," Rónán assured him.

  "Where is she now?"

  "I'm not sure, to be honest," he said. "She was in the ninja realm when I left. But Marcroy has got the jewel back that Abbán used to open the rift. I don't know if that means he's been to the ninja realm already, or he's planning to go. Either way, I'd like to get back there before Marcroy finds Trása again and decides to punish her more severely than the last time."

  Don't leave, papa, not now ...

  "Did you break Marcroy's curse?"

  Rónán shook his head.

  "Why not?"

  "I didn't want her going back to our realm. It was the only way I could ensure she didn't."

  Ever the pragmatist, my brother. Darragh had a feeling that of the two of them, Rónán was the one better equipped to do what needed to be done. He seemed easier with making the hard decisions than Darragh would have been. He was certain he would not have been able to resist Trása's demands for as long as Rónán had managed. Perhaps that's why the dream, when they were younger, affected them both equally, but as they'd grown, as circumstances had shaped them, Destiny had made a choice and it became clear who would wield the blade and who would stand by and watch. Darragh couldn't help but be relieved that fate had apparently chosen his brother. "Does she love you?"

  Rónán smiled. "Sometimes."

  The lights flickered again. Papa, please come. We love you.

  Darragh put his hands over his ears. "Are you sure you don't hear anyone calling?"

  "Positive. Are you okay?"

  Before Darragh could answer, before he could say he was hearing his daughters calling, his daughters who weren't even born yet, a Leipreachán dressed like a portly ninja popped into existence on the table in front of him and threw himself at Darragh, wailing, "Renkavana! I be so glad ye are still alive. Lady Trása be comin' with Lord Pete and Lord Logan, and Lady Nika and -" The Leipreachán stopped abruptly as he looked up discovered Rónán standing behind him. He stared for a second or two at Darragh, realized he had the wrong man, squawked with fright and then threw himself at Rónán and began his litany of woes all over again, "Renkavana! I be so glad ye are still alive. Lady Trása be comin' with Lord Pete and Lord Logan -"

  "Enough! I heard you the first time."

  "Who is this? And what is he babbling about?"

  "This is Toyoda Mulrayn," Rónán said, and then he smiled with relief, "and I do believe the cavalry is about to arrive."

  "Trása? She's coming here?" Darragh asked, frowning.

  Papa, can you hear us ...

  But Rónán wasn't worried about that. His smile faded as he looked at the Leipreachán and asked, "Toyoda, I gave you something precious to mind. What did you do with it?"

  The Leipreachán puffed his chest out, as if he was inordinately proud of himself. "I be hiding it good, Renkavana. I really do be hiding it good."

  "Where did you hide it?"

  "At the stone circle."

  "The one near Tír Na nÓg?"

  "No, no, no," the Leipreachán assured Rónán with a snort that suggested he'd never do anything so foolish. "I never be leaving it in our realm unguarded. I not be that stupid. I be bringin' it here to this realm where no thievin' pixie can make off with it. I be hidin' it so well, even I can't be findin' it meself, but Lady Trása is on the way now, so we be rescuin' ye and ye brother from the evil Matrarchaí and then we be findin' ye jewel and be on our way home."

  Chapter 55

  It was dark by the time Pete, Logan, Toyoda, the Merlin, and Stella Delaney arrived at Cambria Castle.

  Through pelting rain and the rhythmic, periodic moments of clarity provided by the windscreen wipers, Pete could see the hotel was lit up like it was expecting guests, although the car park was almost empty and there was nothing to indicate that the place housed the expensive and well-equipped antenatal and neonatal facility of which Stella was so envious.

  If this had been the 1950s, Pete could well imagine a maternity clinic tucked away in the guise of an exclusive hotel. Somewhere well-heeled, indiscreet young ladies wait out their pregnancies and deliver their bastard children out of the sight of prying, gossipy and judgmental eyes.

  But in this day and age, there was no need for such a place, which - if there was a clinic here - made the likelihood it was a Matrarchaí stronghold all the more probable.

  Stella drove without saying a word the whole trip, her expression thunderous. Pete didn't doubt she was waiting for her moment. She was hanging out for a chance to turn them in, although they had committed no crime. At the very least, they were planning to help an escaped convict. And it could be argued that Nika threatening to kill Annad and Stella's children if she didn't help them was illegal.

  If they actually managed to get out of this realm and back home, Pete was going to have to have a long talk to Nika about that.

  Even through the rain, he could tell Cambria Castle was an impressive building. The brochure said it could trace its origins back to Gaelic Irish royalty. He wondered if that meant it had been in the hands of the Matrarchaí for the past few hundred years or if they'd acquired it more recently.

  As castles went, it wasn't that old. According to the crumpled brochure Toyoda had brought them it was "a spectacular Renaissance masterpiece built in the 16th century". The brochure went on to gush about the romantic gardens and fine antique furnishings, the marvellous woodcarvings, stone statuary, hand-carved panelling and priceless oil paintings, and the opportunity to hunt, fish, play golf, tennis and croquet. It mentioned nothing about a clinic, babies, or that it might be the headquarters of an insidious organization bent on eradicating the Faerie.

  Stella parked the car outside the front door under the large stone portico. Pete glanced around as he climbed out, and realized that over to their left was a helipad with a Eurocopter BK-117 sitting on it. The pilot - or perhaps he was the aircraft mechanic - was struggling to fasten the tiedown ropes to the fuselage mooring points on the skids and then extend them to the ground mooring anchors on the edge of the pad.

  He glanced at Logan across the top of the car and pointed to the helo. "If we need a quick way out of here, do you remember how to fly?"

  "Six months doing the traffic report twelve years ago isn't learning to fly, Pete."

  "Pity." He opened the driver's door for Stella before she could do it herself. "Allow me, Doctor Delany."

  Stella climbed out of the car, scowling at him as he thwarted what was almost certainly her plan to bolt across the lawn, or into the building, calling for help. "They're not going to let you in," she warned.

  "You are going to make them," he assured her. "Then we'll leave you and your husband alone and you'll never see any of us again."

  "I'll see you again," she said confidently, sho
uldering her medical bag. "If not at your trial, then your sentencing hearing. I'm going to enjoy testifying at that."

  "I'm sure you will," he said, refusing to rise to her taunting. "Shall we?"

  They followed Stella through heavy, studded oak doors and stepped into a large foyer filled with medieval paraphernalia. There were suits of armor in almost every corner, swords and banners on the walls, a dozen or more coats of arms on display.

  The foyer was deserted, except for a grey-haired woman standing near the reception desk who was obviously waiting for them. The lights flickered on and off as they approached her. No doubt the storm outside was messing with the power supply. The woman, who was dressed in a white nurse's uniform, stepped forward and held up her hand to stop them going any further. "Doctor Delany? My name is Ana Vaughn. I'm so sorry to bring you out here on a night like this for no reason."

  "That's okay," Stella said. "Nothing is too much trouble for a patient of mine."

  "I am sure you are a most dedicated practitioner," Ana agreed with a smile, "but I'm afraid your patient is no longer here."

  Stella frowned. It seemed she'd forgotten she was here under protest. Suddenly, she was far more concerned about her patient.

  "What do you mean, she's not here? Where is she?"

  Ana shrugged. "I couldn't really say. She left earlier today."

  "But she's just had a c-section," Stella said. "She's just had an anaesthetic. She's still on a drip. Who discharged her?"

  "I really couldn't say," Ana said apologetically. "Why don't I see what I can find out and have the information about her new physician emailed to your office in the morning?"

  There was something very suspicious going on here, that much was obvious, even to Stella. Annad's wife - who'd been determined not to have anything to do with their plan to infiltrate the Matrarchaí - seemed to change her mind in the face of this unexpected obstacle to her checking on her patient.

  "I wish to speak to Marie-Claire," Stella said.

  "She's currently in a meeting."

  "Then get her out of it," Stella ordered. "If you don't, I'm going straight to the police to report my patient missing."

  And the threat to my children, Pete added silently. And that the prisoner who escaped Portlaoise the other day is probably here. Slick move, Stella.

  Ana, who had given up even pretending civility, eyed the doctor for a moment, as if trying to gauge how serious she was and then she nodded. "Wait here," she said. "I'll see what I can do."

  The nurse turned on her heel and left through the door behind the reception counter. Pete smiled at Stella. "Nice work, doc."

  "Shut up, you fool."

  "I just meant -"

  "I know what you meant, and I don't care. That young woman I delivered yesterday needs medical attention. If they've just let her just walk out of here, they may well have endangered her life. Right now, I'm more concerned about her fate than any harebrained scheme you and your crazy friends have cooked up."

  Before he could respond, Logan hissed at him from across the foyer. "Hey! Check this out!"

  He studied Stella for a moment, decided she wasn't going anywhere until she'd discovered the fate of her patient and hurried across the foyer to the door Logan had just opened.

  The room Logan had discovered was filled with hunting trophies. There were at least three deer heads mounted on the walls, their massive antlers looming over the room, a growling lion over the fireplace, a polar-bearskin rug in front of the deep, leather chesterfields complete with snarling head attached, and a score of other endangered species proudly exhibited in a grotesque display of man's supremacy over the animal kingdom. The lights flickered again, lighting the room with a fierce, almost horror-movie ambience.

  Pete stared around for a moment and then shook his head. "That's disgusting."

  "Not the animals," Logan said. "That."

  Logan was pointing to a cabinet on the other side of the fireplace, where a rack of shotguns was displayed.

  Pete looked at his brother. "Are you serious."

  "This place is a Matrarchaí stronghold, Pete. The Matrarchaí kill Faerie. We're Faerie. Damn right, I'm serious."

  Logan's logic was impeccable, but there was something about being back in this realm that made Pete reluctant. He'd killed Matrarchaí - both men and women - before today. But somehow, in this realm where his job had been to uphold the law, not break it, the idea of shooting his way out of anywhere, even a Matrarchaí stronghold, felt wrong.

  Just because it felt wrong, didn't mean it was, Pete decided. He nodded and turned back to Stella, wondering what her reaction would be to them arming themselves. She was standing by the reception desk, tapping her fingers impatiently on the counter, but she wasn't reaching for the phone. At least, not yet.

  He stepped into the shadows, out of Stella's sight for a moment, as he heard a crash of broken glass coming from the trophy room. Logan breaking into the gun cabinet, he guessed.

  "Toyoda!" he hissed softly.

  The Leipreachán popped up beside him in the shadow of a spectacular, if rather short, suit of silver-chased armor, looking about nervously.

  "I don't be liking this place, Lord Pete."

  He squatted down until he was eye to eye with the Leipreachán. "You and me both, pal. So stay out of sight. But I need you to glamour the doctor so she doesn't try to escape or call for help."

  "But what be happenin' if the nurse be comin' back?"

  "If she tries to send us away, I want you to glamour her, too. Tell her she's to let us through, okay?"

  Toyoda nodded. "Didn't ye want me to be locatin' Renkavana for ye?"

  "After we've taken care of Stella and the nurse."

  The lights flickered again. Pete glanced up and then looked back at Toyoda who seemed very uneasy.

  "There be somethin' very wrong in this place, Lord Pete. I want to be going home."

  "So do I," Pete told him, rising to his feet, a little startled to realize how much he wanted out of this realm. "So do I."

  Chapter 56

  Ren stared at Darragh, wondering if his brother was experiencing the same horrified realization, that the enchanted jewel was no longer in a magic realm, as he was.

  "He brought the jewel here," Darragh said softly.

  "To a world without magic."

  "Rónán," Darragh said. "I think we have a problem."

  "We'll find it," Ren promised, feeling sick to his stomach. There was, Ren decided, a certain inevitability about Toyoda losing the gem he'd protected so vigilantly. It was a stupid thing to do, in hindsight, entrusting something so valuable to a Leipreachán, but maybe he didn't have a choice. Maybe it was like the Hag said - it was Destiny at work. Perhaps that was how Destiny worked, waiting in the wings for that one slim chance; that once in a lifetime opportunity. That one stupid decision around which empires would rise or fall - or realities thrive or perish. "We'll get it back to our realm, Darragh. I promise. Djinn enchantments are powerful things. Coming through the rift may not have weakened it yet. But even if the spell is broken, even if she's out and wandering the streets of Dublin, we have months before ..." His voice trailed off as he looked at his brother.

  Darragh was shaking his head. "It doesn't work like that, Rónán. The curse on Trása broke as soon as she entered this realm. Sorcha withered and died of old age in a week."

  "Then we have a week ..."

  "No. We don't have anytime at all."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I can hear them, Rónán. In my head. They're calling to me."

  Ren felt the blood draining from his face. "Are you sure?"

  "Either that. Or I'm going mad."

  "How is that possible?"

  Darragh shrugged. "Between the Matrarchaí fiddling with our bloodlines and a decade seeped in a djinni enchantment, who knows what it's done to Brydie or her babies. All I can tell you is they are born," Darragh said, putting his head in his hands.

  "That's impossible," Ren said, wishing he ha
d time to murder the Leipreachán. Not that this mess was really Toyoda's fault. Ren should have known better than to entrust something so precious to a creature as unreliable as a Leipreachán. Still, they had a Leipreachán here and help on the way. If the babies had been born ...

  Ren was too afraid to finish the thought. "Toyoda! Search this place. See if you can find any babies."

  "Did ye be wanting me to steal babies, now, Renkavana?" the Leipreachán asked, sounding a little miffed. "I not be the baby stealing kind. That be a pixie thing. Ye should be askin' that pesky Echo, if ye be wanting to steal -"

  "Just do it," Ren ordered. "And come back here if you find any."

  With an indignant sniff, the Leipreachán vanished. Ren turned back to Darragh, hoping to reassure himself as much as his brother. "Toyoda only brought the jewel here a couple of days ago. There's no way -"

  "I can hear them, Rónán. They're in my head. They know who I am."

  "Do you think they're nearby?"

  "I suppose the Leipreachán will find out soon enough, but I have no way of knowing. They might be on the other side of the world. They might be in the next room. I don't know. They just keep begging me to come to them. They keep going on about their mama wanting to hurt them. And how they need me to protect them."

  "Darragh, even if they were born the moment Brydie stepped through the rift, they'd be a few days' old at best."

  "Which makes them calling to me like this pretty frightening, don't you think?"

  Ren was thinking the same thing, but before he could say so, the door burst open, and a young woman stumbled through the door as if she'd been shoved through. On her heels was a man carrying a long-barrelled shotgun.

  "Pete?"

  Darragh jumped to his feet, knocking the chair over. Hot on the heels of Pete and the young woman was Logan, also toting a shotgun, but with nowhere near the confidence of his brother.