Darkness Descends: A Skye Faden Novel
Page 66
Their bare feet endured the pain of rocks and branches as they pressed on. The cold night air chilled their naked flesh. Fog danced across the ground, catching the beams of moonlight that pierced the canopy overhead. The trees of the ancient forest soared above, their trunks impossibly wide. Gnarled, wild roots snaked through the ground, some thicker than she was tall.
Ciaran helped her over them as they walked, holding her hand in his tightly. They were not looking for the ainmhidh; they were merely making it easier to be found. And it was not long before she sensed a stirring in the mists. Her heart leapt into her throat as a low growl erupted behind her. Ciaran pulled her to his side protectively. Every muscle in her body froze in terror when she felt its breath on her neck.
A single swat from one of its massive paws to the back of their legs sent them both to their knees. She stared down at the leaves on the ground before her, her eyes wide as she listened to them growling and sniffing at her.
“Ya got a plan here?” Ciaran whispered nervously beside her.
“I...” Skye began, but trailed off when she heard it.
In the distance, the humming from her dreams began. The woman’s voice echoed through the forest on all sides, as if coming from the trees themselves.
“We gonna stay here and wait to be eaten or –?” Ciaran whispered frantically as one of the ainmhidh nudged him with its muzzle and growled.
“Shh!” Skye urged. “Don’t you hear her?”
“Hear who?” He asked before cursing under his breath. He closed his eyes as the beast towering over him brought its mouth within inches of his face and bared its teeth.
The humming grew louder, the lullaby growing in intensity until suddenly, all of the ainmhidh froze in place.
“She’s telling them to stop,” Skye declared. “I know she is. She’s calling them off. Can you hear her?”
“I do nah hear a thing, love – but I’m nah dead yet, so I’m assuming tha’s a good sign,” he offered.
Skye inhaled slowly through her nose, slowing her heart as she closed her eyes. Softly at first, she began humming along with the lullaby. After a moment, she was stunned to realize that she was now singing the melody... in Gaelic. Her brows drew together at that, she had never heard the words of this song in her dreams, yet she knew them.
Ciaran glanced over in her in astonishment as the beasts began to retreat into the mists.
One by one, they disappeared, until all that remained was Skye and Ciaran.
“Care to explain any of tha?” Ciaran asked in a high-pitched and cracking voice.
Skye breathed a sigh of relief. “I wish I could, but at least we’re –”
She was cut short by a man’s angry, shouted commands in Gaelic.
“What did he say?” She asked worriedly.
“And now she doesn’t speak Gaelic again!” Ciaran muttered to himself. “He said do nah move an inch. Keep your eyes down,” he translated. “And we’d do well to listen. Trust me, a stóirín – things may have just gone from bad to a fuck-load worse.”
The ground trembled beneath them as, from all sides, faoil bounded out of the surrounding forest and encircled them. They shifted to human form as they approached. Skye pushed her senses outward, realizing in wonder that there were thousands of them living here in the forest, each as ancient as Taran had been.
One of them began screaming furiously at her and she bit her lip, not wanting to offend him, but she needed to speak.
“I’m sorry... I... I don’t understand,” she whispered and cried out when he grabbed her by the hair, pushing her face down and screaming another command.
Ciaran snarled and moved to help her – an effort which only earned him a violent blow to the back of his head.
Skye fought back anger that he was being harmed by their own kind for trying to protect her.
“Okay! Okay! Face down and stay quiet! Fuck – I got it!” She shrieked in pain until whoever was behind her finally released his grip of her hair.
Someone was approaching now, and her eyes widened when he stopped mere inches away from her.
“So, ya do nah speak Gaelic,” he began. “I know tha’s nah a problem for Ciaran,” he chided angrily.
“Faolan, please. Ya must forgive us for our trespass. If you’ll only let me explain –” Ciaran tried.
“Still your tongue!” Faolan snarled. “I ‘must’ do nothing! I can nah even begin to understand your actions, but I will get to ya in a moment.”
Skye’s body trembled at the unnatural sound of his voice. There was something... off about it.
Yet, somehow, eerily familiar.
“What have we here? A female pup?” He breathed in surprise as he inhaled the scent of her fear. “And one who has survived to reach the Nasgadh!” He marveled at that before finally letting out a disappointed sigh. “It is a true pity to have to end your life, wean. So rare to find one such as ya,” he said with sincere remorse. Skye remained still as stone as he stood in silence above her, considering her for a long moment before continuing. “Ya are covered in the scent of Taran. Did he nah warn ya of the consequences of wandering into this forest?”
Skye fought back a sob.
“I am covered in Taran’s scent... because he was my mate... and I had no choice but to come here,” she whispered past the lump in her throat.
Faolan bristled at her words.
“Impudent pup,” he snarled disapprovingly and paced furiously in front of her, glaring down at the top of her head. “Ya say ‘was my mate’ – did ya nah realize tha bonds amongst wolves were for life?”
She watched her fingers flex in the dirt at the pain of what she needed to say in response.
“I know,” she managed in a trembling voice as her tears fell silently to the ground.
The ancient being stopped mid-step at that, staring down at her in shock.
“Then... Taran... my faithful child... he is... ?” Faolan breathed.
She nodded, her shoulders trembling as she wept. For some reason, she wanted to crawl to this man’s feet, to cling to him, to tell him what had been done and let him make it all better. Her voice strained and broke as she forced herself to go on.
“The ones that chased us here killed him before I got to him. Our brethren are still fighting – the fògaraich are on these lands attacking even as we speak.”
Faolan spun in outrage and growled two clear orders at that.
GO.
KILL.
Skye watched in awe as a rush of feet went by, and realized in astonishment that Faolan had just unleashed not only the army of faoil who stayed within the forest, but also all of the ainmhidh. Thousands of the beasts were now bounding out toward the castle. Their footfalls caused the ground to quake beneath her. She prayed for them to tear apart every last fògarach they could find.
Swallowing hard, she continued, “I fled here hoping that by doing so, I could somehow save my mate. Ciaran only followed in order to protect me, as he’d sworn to do. You can’t punish him for honoring his oath to Taran and the clan,” she said in a voice that sounded a great deal braver than she was feeling.
She held her breath, listening to Faolan asking something quickly in Gaelic and Ciaran giving a short response. She figured that Faolan had asked for confirmation that she spoke the truth.
“Go on,” Faolan instructed in English.
“The Tàcharain Fhaol Clan has taken me into their protection. I was given the bite in order to prevent the fògaraich from claiming me. They’ve been after me since before I even knew they existed. The reason Latharn called for the Gathering was so that I could seek answers as to why. No one will explain it me. I know we weren’t granted passage until tomorrow, I know Taran said not to come here, that I would not survive to leave... but I could feel this place calling to me since I arrived. It didn’t feel dangerous. It felt like it was welcoming me and I trusted it. So, if you’re going to kill me, then just do it now. Taran’s body is back that direction in a cave. If you follow our trail,
it will lead you to him. I swore that he would be with the other fallen ancients, as he gave his life protecting this land. Please, at least give him that honor. My life is yours to take – which is fine by me, I don’t think I can live without him anyway,” she whispered as she closed her eyes.
Ciaran reached over and grasped her hand as she fought back a sob. The desire to curl up in his arms and weep was almost unbearable, but the sound of someone racing down the hillside toward them interrupted her thoughts. She did her best not to look up when she heard Latharn, Drostan, and Cathal speaking hurriedly in Gaelic. Their voices and breathing were frantic. She did not understand a word of it, but she did catch her name.
Unexpectedly, Faolan rushed toward her. He reached down and grabbed her by the elbow, hauling her up onto her feet and eyeing her in amazement.
Her expression was a mirror of the shock in his. Her breath caught in her throat when she focused on him.
This is the man from my visions, she realized. White fur, golden eyes...
Faolan was positively magnificent – so primal and stunningly beautiful that it staggered her. He was wrapped in white pelts with long, dark hair cascading over his shoulders. His eyes were large and golden, inhuman – they gazed into hers deeply as he reached out and touched her face. It gave her chills to be in his presence. Something about him told her that he was no ordinary faol.
He walked around her slowly, sniffing at her hair, looking intensely into her eyes and finally smiling.
“I know ya,” he whispered and she arched a brow.
Ciaran’s head came up slightly as he recalled those same words falling from her lips for him.
“I... don’t think so...” she said while looking around and finding the other faoil staring at her in awe.
“Nah personally, child – I know your blood,” he said with a smile before taking her hand and pressing it to his massive chest over his heart. “It is the same that flows here.”
Skye stared at him in impatient confusion. She was grieving, exhausted, bleeding profusely, and standing stark naked in front of a whole pack of men. She wanted nothing more than to go lie beside her dead mate and mourn for him with Ciaran. Now was not the time for the cryptic mind games of ancient beings.
“Again... I don’t think so,” she insisted as she removed her hand from his chest, but he leaned down closer to her.
He ran his fingers through her hair, kissed her cheek, and whispered adoringly to her in Gaelic. And again, she was naked, which was making his suddenly cuddly disposition pretty disturbing.
“Did Taran tell ya what makes these lands sacred?” Faolan asked and she shook her head.
“He told me that it was not his place to give me that knowledge. Said that if all it took was a bite to earn it, the castle and lands would not be safe,” she whispered.
Tears streamed down her cheeks at the mention of his name. She recalled the sight of him in the garden on the day he had spoken those words to her. She could see his beautiful grey eyes gazing down at her adoringly, the wind playing at his long hair as he held his hand out to her...
“Taran’s remains are in a cave, ya said?” Faolan asked softly.
She nodded her agreement and it nearly swallowed her alive to see the resulting heartbreak in the expressions of Latharn, Drostan, and Cathal.
They didn’t know, she realized remorsefully.
Faolan turned and gestured to a few of the others to retrieve Taran before focusing on the man still bowing before him.
“Arise, Ciaran. Stand before me,” he commanded.
Ciaran quickly climbed to his feet, but kept his eyes on the ground.
“Ya have done well to protect her,” Faolan said softly as he rested a reassuring hand on Ciaran’s shoulder. “I apologize tha I did nah give ya the benefit of the doubt. It was foolish of me to distrust ya. Your heart has always been pure. I should have known your reasons would be valid.” He waited for Ciaran meet his gaze and smiled warmly at him for a moment before addressing the others. “All of ya, please – walk with us.”
The men all fell in behind him as he turned and took Skye’s hand in his, holding it gently and guiding her as he set out.
“Let me tell ya, my child, as no other has the right to do so, of the fair Sorcha,” he began with a smile.
48:One Lost is Returned
“Born at the dawn of time as the ban-dia na gealaich – the moon goddess, herself – Sorcha watched over this world lovingly from the heavens. For countless ages, she admired humanity as it grew and flourished. Her life was eternal, but solitary. She was curious at the lives these mortals led, the bonds they made and feelings they experienced. And so, each month she would descend to the world tha she adored for one night, leaving the sky to the light of the stars alone. During these explorations, in the guise of a white owl, she came to love, above all others, a place where heaven and earth were but a hair’s breadth apart. The very place for which you were named – what is now called the Isle of Skye.
“One night, whilst flying along the shoreline, she came upon a young couple in the sand, entwined in love’s embrace. She was in awe of the act, the way these two creatures felt strongly enough for one another – needed one another enough to unite their bodies in such a way. It was then tha she decided to forsake her immortality for a chance at such a thing, such love and connection with another being. Sorcha soared over the couple and abandoned her owl form. Her light flowed through the man’s body and passed to his lover’s womb. Her action gave her birth into a mortal coil, but did not relieve her of the divine duties entrusted to her. All of her magic was present in the human child tha she became. Each night, even as she slept, she ensured tha the moon’s light would shine down upon the world of man.
“By the time she was but a few years old, the elders of her village realized tha she was not what she seemed. The wisdom she possessed and the timelessness of her gaze alerted them tha this child was ever so much more than a child. Her power was greater than any born before her. She could heal the wounded and ill, create potions and speak enchantments which caused love and fertility. Word of her gifts spread throughout the lands. Soon people were travelling great distances just to seek her aid... but it is in the very nature of men to fear tha which they can nah understand or control. ‘Concerned citizens’ began to wonder aloud during drunken rants at her connection to the Underworld. Some claimed her to be a witch. Others whispered tha she was a faerie woman. Old wives gossiped tha once wee Sorcha grew into a woman, she would seduce to her bed the strongest men of the tribe, only to steal their strength and leave them unable to bear children. Any time a fire or storm or disease caused her people strife, any time a child was stillborn, they blamed her for it. When she was barely more than a child herself, a sickness came to their village the likes of which none had ever seen. Refusing to listen to reason, to admit the possibility tha this disease had come from new trade with previously unreachable lands, they forced her from her home. They still traveled to seek her services, mind you, and paid her well for them, too. They were just too fearful of her to abide her living so closely to their families.
“It did nah bother Sorcha much, though. She was more at peace with nature and so she came here, to this forest, and made it her home. By her sixteenth winter, she had grown into a beautiful young woman, a woman of magic and wisdom, of beauty and grace. The passing years, however, had brought with them loneliness and a desire for companionship. She had given up her immortality for a chance to love and be loved – only to find tha her power prevented it. She frightened mortal men so greatly with her magics, with simply being who she was, tha it was impossible for her to become close to one.” Faolan paused as he helped Skye up over a fallen tree. His eyes took in her wounds and exhaustion sympathetically. “Are ya all right?” He asked softly.
“I’ll live,” she whispered bitterly and tried to mask her pain. “Go on with what you were saying.”
He gave her an understanding nod. She’d just lost her mate. Of course she was not
all right.
“Very well then,” he agreed remorsefully. “So, fate had sentenced Sorcha to a life of solitude, but she was ne’er one to wait for others to provide what she needed. Under the full moon of the harvest, she created for herself two lovers to guard and care for her. She chose the creatures tha had watched over her and kept her company, making men from beasts. One from wolf. One from raven.”
Skye stopped abruptly at that revelation and stared up at him in open disbelief.
Faolan turned back to face her, smiling knowingly as he continued, “I was just so curious aboot the strange young girl alone in the forest. My pack thought me incredibly unwise, but I was drawn to her. I wanted to protect her from harm.”
“You... you weren’t a man... I mean... you’re... ,” she stammered as she pointed at him in shock. “You’re a wolf?”
“I was once a wolf,” he corrected with a laugh. “Just as ya were once an infant. Sorcha has made me more, as time has you. I remember the days before the change. She would sing and speak to me. In return, I brought her food, kept her safe. The first winter tha came, I slept beside her to keep her warm. She was just a pup and I could nah understand why she was nah with her pack. It was for my loyalty tha she made me her own. From the moment I awoke in this form, I could think of nothing but my love for her, how lucky I was to live for all time as her mate. It is in the nature of wolves to bond in such a way.”
His voice took on a dangerous tone as he set out once more.
“Ravens, on the other hand, are creatures of flight, nah loyalty. Preening, vain things, really. They crave freedom and all tha glitters to their greedy eyes. They wish to keep themselves amused – aren’t at all interested in captivity. Within a week, the mistake of Brandubh’s creation was apparent, but Sorcha loved him just the same. She granted him his freedom hoping to keep him happy.
“The years went by and he came and went as he pleased while I remained at her side. As Sorcha discovered what it is to love, she came to fear and regret her mortality. She did nah want our time together to ever end. And so, when age would have taken her from me, she cast a spell over these lands. As long as she remained within our forest, she could live forever just as young and beautiful as she had been the day she created me.