by Che Golden
The Summer Queen simply raised an eyebrow. ‘I am hardly going to risk a Tuatha being bitten by that cur, am I?’ she said.
Light footsteps sounded on the stairs outside and Meabh walked into the room, her eyes sparkling with excitement and her cheeks flushed.
‘I got away as soon as I could,’ she said to Niamh, ‘but we need to be quick. The final ingredient is on its way. Out of the room, all of you,’ she commanded the guards. ‘One of you must stand guard outside, but the rest are to report back to your captains.’
‘What are you doing?’ asked Maddy.
Meabh walked up to her, smiling lazily. She cupped Maddy’s chin gently in her hand and raised her face up so they were looking into each other’s eyes.
‘I’m going to unlock your true potential tonight, Maddy,’ she said. ‘You are going to get so many answers and then, just like I said you would, you’re going to run for me.’
‘No, I won’t,’ said Maddy. ‘I know what you are trying to do, Meabh. I’m not going to let you into my world and I am certainly not going to fight my own kind for you.’
‘That’s the problem with Hounds,’ said Niamh, showing her little white teeth in a very unladylike yawn. ‘They always think they know their own minds.’ She considered this for a second. ‘I mean, they always think they should have their own minds.’
‘You’re going to do exactly what I want, little Hound,’ said Meabh. ‘Do you know why? Because by the time I am finished with you, what I want will be what you want.’
‘In what parallel universe is that going to happen?’ asked Maddy, jerking her face out of Meabh’s hand.
‘Do you remember, once we talked about all that hatred and rage coiled up in that scrawny little form of yours?’ purred Meabh. ‘You thought you had got rid of it. You thought you were a different person. But all you did was lie to yourself and call your hatred and rage something else – moral, righteous, words that felt good on your tongue and in your mind and let you rest easy. But I am going to let you look right into the dark heart of yourself tonight, Maddy, and when I do, you’re going to see that these are not bad emotions. They don’t make you a bad person. They are the best part of what you are, they are your strength, your salvation. And it’s all there inside you, waiting to be unlocked.’
‘That’s not who I am,’ said Maddy. ‘I made some mistakes last year. I didn’t think clearly, but I paid for them—’
‘No, you didn’t,’ interrupted Niamh. ‘As I recall, someone else died because of your stupidity.’
Stricken with guilt, Maddy felt the blood drain out of her face.
‘Maddy, all your problems stem from the fact that you will not embrace what you are,’ said Meabh. ‘You struggle against your true nature and you struggle against the ones who would love you for it.’
‘No,’ said Maddy, shaking her head and blinking away tears. ‘You want me to become some hateful, twisted creature and I don’t want to be that kind of person. I won’t let you make me into someone like that.’
‘Liadan had the right idea when she lured you in here,’ said Meabh as she began to pace around Maddy. ‘She knew you were the key to unlock the mound on this side. She knew all that hatred and rage were powerful weapons that could punch through the barrier and let us loose. But she didn’t know all the ingredients that were needed to make such a weapon. She didn’t realize that what she also needed was the mist of dreams.’
Maddy shuddered.
‘All those twisted souls looking for comfort inside that mist, wandering around aimlessly, making part of Tír na nÓg uninhabitable for the rest of us,’ Meabh continued. ‘All that pent-up rage, that longing to return home. But they are sheep who need to follow someone. And they won’t follow a Tuatha, they hate us so. Guess who they will run bleating after?’
‘A Hound?’ said Maddy in a tiny voice.
‘A Hound!’ said Meabh. ‘One of their own people, whose blood is like a siren’s song. A Hound can lead them out of the Shadowlands, a whole army of split souls, and all that rage and hate and combined longing for the mortal realm on the other side of the mound will create a weapon strong enough to overcome the barrier that separates the worlds. And where your army goes, a Tuatha army will follow.’
‘I am never going to do that for you!’ yelled Maddy. ‘Why would you think I would willingly sign up for an end-of-the-world plan like that?’
‘I don’t think any of us truly knows the extent of what you would do, Maddy,’ said Meabh, cocking her head toward the door at the sound of more booted footsteps ringing out on the stone and, beneath that, the sound of something heavy being dragged. ‘You’re a Hound that has never been blooded. Once you kill, you’ll be overcome with bloodlust and you will follow anyone that promises you battle and glory, like all the Hounds before you. You wanted to follow in Cú Chulainn’s footsteps?’ The door to the room flew open and two more Autumn soldiers entered, dragging someone between them. ‘Now you will get your chance.’
‘Ah, ’tis the faerie who would be queen,’ said Niamh in a mocking tone. ‘Looking a little bedraggled for royalty.’
It was Fachtna.
The soldiers threw her face down on to the floor. As she lifted herself on to her arms, Maddy could see her face was swollen and bruised and her white hair hung limp and sweaty across her face. One leg was soaked in blood, and when Fachtna tried to get up, she could only brace herself against one knee. They had hamstrung her.
Meabh bent over Fachtna and drew her sword, throwing it at Maddy’s feet, while Niamh hissed at the soldiers to get out. Maddy looked at Meabh in confusion as the sword rang on the flagstones.
‘A gift for you, little Hound,’ said Niamh.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Maddy, looking at Fachtna. The faerie looked up through her tangled mane of hair with angry red eyes.
‘Now is your chance to kill Fachtna,’ said Meabh. ‘We knew it wouldn’t be a fair contest so we gave you a helping hand.’
‘A helping hand?’ said Maddy. ‘She’ll never walk again!’
Niamh giggled. ‘She won’t need to.’
‘The Morrighan will be angry that you’ve done this,’ said Maddy. ‘Fachtna’s her favourite.’
‘The Morrighan isn’t going to care,’ said Meabh. ‘Fachtna has proved herself twice a traitor – the Morrighan knows better than to trust such a creature as that. She has also coveted a Tuatha’s rightful place and that is unforgivable.’ She curled her lip in contempt as she looked at the stricken faerie. ‘She is worthless to the Tuatha now.’
‘Killing her would be a mercy,’ agreed Niamh.
‘I’m not doing it,’ said Maddy.
‘She has tried to kill you,’ Niamh pointed out.
‘Yeah, but to be fair, she hasn’t tried that for ages,’ said Maddy.
Meabh stepped over to Maddy. ‘I told you once that yourself and Fachtna had much in common. Do you remember?’ Maddy nodded. Meabh placed her cool fingers over Maddy’s eyes, plunging her into darkness. ‘Then See.’
Absolute black descended on her vision and Maddy felt her eyes straining in their sockets as they sought out a scrap of light. Her vision began to clear a little and dim shapes started to come into view. But she wasn’t in that little room at the top of the tall tower any more. She was in a small dark space … a car! She could see the dashboard glowing green, feel the engine rumbling through the seat. But everything was tilted to the side and, now that she could see a little more clearly, the glass on the windscreen was cracked and blind.
No, she thought. They wouldn’t send me here!
Cautiously she eased forward between the front seats and a sob caught in her throat. There was her father, slumped sideways, his head resting against the window, cracks radiating in the glass around his skull. She knew this wasn’t real, she knew she wasn’t really here, on that freezing cold night in Donegal when her parents’ car had skidded on ice and left the road, flipping over as it went. It was a like a movie that the faeries could play back to her, a m
ovie that she felt she was in. But this was the past – her parents were gone and nothing that she did here was going to change that. She couldn’t turn back time and have her life back to the way it was before, safe in London with her parents, surrounded by iron, blissfully unaware that such a thing as faeries existed outside storybooks.
Still, she reached out with a shaking hand and caught a little piece of her father’s jacket between the tips of her fingers, a wail of anguish breaking through her clamped lips. Three years ago the younger Maddy would have shaken him, crying, ‘Wake up Daddy, please wake up!’ but now she knew there were no happy endings. Hot tears scorched her face and she felt as if she couldn’t breathe through the hard lump lodged in her throat.
A groan from the passenger seat made her whip her head round. Her mother had lived for a few moments; Una had told her that. The little banshee had crept to her mother’s side and held her hand as she looked into another world, before closing her eyes and slipping away as easily as falling asleep. Her mother’s green eyes were looking straight at Maddy, but she didn’t see her.
Maddy couldn’t help it. ‘Mummy?’ she asked in tiny voice.
The tinny screech of metal made her look up and she froze as she watched a long, white tattooed hand drag a talon down the side of the car, one more scratch that wouldn’t be noticed by the Guards in the ruined bodywork. Rage built up in her as she watched the tall white fairy, with her grey tattoos, her stiffened hair and that distinctive damaged wing walk away from the car, a departing actor illuminated by the headlights until the deep night of the deserted country road swallowed her whole.
Maddy squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them again she was back in the tower, Fachtna’s sword in her hand. She could feel the weight of it making the muscles of her arm tremble and she braced the point beneath Fachtna’s breast.
‘Why did you do it?’ she asked, her breath hot in her mouth, heated by the lava of rage that bubbled in her belly. She was dimly aware of Danny and Roisin shouting but she couldn’t hear their words over the pounding of blood in her ears. ‘Tell me why.’
Fachtna looked up at her and brushed her hair from her eyes with a lazy gesture. ‘I was following orders.’
‘That’s no excuse,’ said Maddy.
‘Fine,’ said Fachtna. ‘It’s my nature. As it is yours.’
‘I’m nothing like you!’ said Maddy.
‘Steel in our souls, little Hound,’ said Fachtna. ‘I told you once – you do what you think is necessary, and soon you stop being surprised at what you will do. But let me give you one piece of advice.’ She reached up the length of the sword with her long, mottled arm and wrapped her fingers around Maddy’s fist, leaning into the point of the blade until blood bloomed. ‘Never, ever, live on your knees.’ She smiled at Maddy, her full lips covering the shark’s teeth, and then she drove the sword through her own chest.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Maddy screamed as Fachtna’s weight fell against her and her legs buckled as they both fell to the ground. She rolled Fachtna on to her back and crouched over her. She could hear Roisin screaming and cries of rage from Meabh and Niamh, but she ignored them all and leaned down, her tears splashing on to the war faerie’s face.
‘What have you done, Fachtna?’ she sobbed.
‘What was necessary,’ whispered the faerie, the breath fading from her lungs. ‘So you wouldn’t have to.’ She smiled up at Maddy and gently laid a sword-callused hand against her cheek. ‘Tears for me? Who would have thought it, from the Feral Child! It wasn’t that long ago we tried to kill each other.’
‘The good old days,’ said Maddy, smiling through her tears.
‘You’re a good girl,’ said Fachtna. The light faded in her red eyes, her mouth went slack as the last of her breath escaped and her hand fell away, the fingers limp. Maddy stared down at Fachtna, her anger draining away with her tears. The door burst open behind her and more people crowded into the room, but she ignored them all as she rocked over Fachtna’s body.
Would she have killed her? Had she been angry enough to drive that blade through? She didn’t want to be the person Meabh said she was, but for a moment she almost was. She couldn’t trust herself. She looked down at her own body and felt sick. There was blood on her clothes – Fachtna’s blood, on her hands, seeping into the lines of her skin, swirling through the whorls on her fingertips. She was dizzy and the room felt too hot and crowded. She staggered to her feet, the shouting voices all around clanging wordlessly in her ears. She shoved past them, her filthy hands batting aside silks and velvets to get to the door.
She gulped in the cold air of the stairwell and staggered down the steps, clinging to the rough stone walls for support. She pushed at the dusty cloth of the tapestry curtain and out into the hall, stumbling toward the dragon door and the steps that led down to the jetty. She was dimly aware of the handful of Tuatha soldiers lingering in the hall and their heads turning toward her as she crashed through the bones, but no one made a move to stop her.
Water, she kept thinking. I have to wash my hands. I have to get the blood out.
She shoved open the dragon door so hard she lost her footing on the stone steps. Her rubbery legs gave way beneath her and for one moment she thought she was going to tumble clumsily into the sea below her as she slid down the rail-less steps on her side, her feet flailing for purchase and her hands scrabbling at the stone. After what seemed like an eternity, she stopped sliding and sank on to a step, taking great gulps of air into her lungs, shaking with relief, her clothes clinging to her with cold sweat.
She waited for her pounding heart to slow and for her breathing to return to normal, but her legs still felt boneless when she tried to stand. She sat back down with a hard bump, terrified she would fall again and not be so lucky this time. But the water was tantalizingly close so she went down the stairs on her bottom, like a toddler, shuffling from step to step, pushing off on to the one below with her hands.
The long, flat Tuatha boats bobbed on the water, oars up but with no anchorage that she could see. Like Meabh’s walnut shell, they simply bobbed in place, waiting for their crews’ return. Dark shapes flitted around them, humped backs that breached the quicksilver waves with a blast of breath and dived again with a slap of a tail.
Selkies. She had forgotten about them.
She heard a splash and the sound of water dripping at the end of the pier. A selkie female had hauled herself from the water in human form and was crouched, watching Maddy. Seawater streamed from her long brown hair and her eyes, a rich and velvety brown with no whites. Her nose was wide and flat in her face, the nostrils broad slits that could be closed against water. Her webbed hands were splayed in front of her, and when she spoke Maddy could see the flash of ivory fangs.
‘So much blood, little Hound,’ she said in a gentle voice. ‘You are truly a lost soul. But we can give you another purpose.’
‘How?’ said Maddy.
‘Meabh has shown you a truth that she believes in,’ said the selkie, ‘but truth is a jewel of many faces. I can show you another face. You can have a choice, little one, and what we are is the choices that we make.’
‘I won’t become what Meabh says I am?’ asked Maddy, taking a tentative step toward the selkie.
‘Not unless you choose it,’ said the selkie.
‘And you can show me a different way?’
The selkie held out her arms. ‘Come, little one.’
Maddy walked over to the selkie, slipped to her knees and leaned into her embrace. The selkie wrapped muscled arms around her, leaned to the side and pulled Maddy over the edge of the jetty and into the dark waters with hardly a splash.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Roisin screamed as she watched Fachtna drive the sword through her own chest. She watched as Maddy rolled her over and talked to the dying faerie, praying that somehow everything would still be all right. Through the blur of tears she willed Fachtna to breathe, to pull the sword from her chest and sit up, laugh even, as i
f the whole thing had been a bad joke. She pressed against Danny and could feel him shaking. She should say something to him, anything, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Fachtna. Meabh and Niamh, on the other hand, were half out of their minds with rage.
‘What is wrong with her?’ cried Niamh, pulling at her golden hair. ‘Why can she NEVER do what she is told?!’
‘Fachtna!’ spat Meabh. ‘She just had to ruin it all. She couldn’t make her death useful!’
‘You said this would work!’ snarled Niamh, stalking over to Meabh, her fists clenched at her sides and her butterflies bashing into each other in confusion.
‘Well, it would have, if the stupid creature had done what she was supposed to and butchered Fachtna like a pig,’ said Meabh.
The two queens were face to face now, their beautiful faces twisted with anger and fear. ‘You said that giving her a taste of killing would unleash her dark half,’ said Niamh, her voice lowered to a growl. ‘Instead she’s weeping over that treacherous faerie like a baby. Does she even HAVE a dark side?’
‘Of course she does,’ Meabh snapped back. ‘Do you think I would have spent all these years scheming to get her into this position, whispering in Liadan’s ear so she would send Fachtna to kill her parents, working with you –’ her voice dripped with contempt – ‘to get her back in here with that storm? Would I have worked so hard to make sure the wound to Liadan’s pride would stay raw so she would bait the brat, if she didn’t have that twisted side to her that could be fashioned into a weapon?’
‘Well, at the risk of sounding obvious, dear sister,’ said Niamh, ‘you need to unlock that potential in the next five minutes. Just in case you haven’t noticed, we have committed treachery in the castle of the Morrighan, so I need to get into the mortal world very soon. Did the old fossil at least say who she was going to give the Winter crown to?’
‘I have no idea what she is planning to do with it, but she isn’t going to give it to Sorcha or myself, and I doubt you’re next in line. She was aggrieved you were not there to pay her homage,’ said Meabh.
