by Jane Godman
Her eyes raked his face. He could see the battle taking place inside her. Then she gave a shuddering sigh and nodded. The soft cushion of her lower lip trembled pitifully and tears shone in her eyes. “If you say it, then I believe it. If I don’t have you, I don’t have anything.”
Cal drew her into his arms, holding her shivering form close and running his hands up and down her back. Gradually, the quivering of her limbs subsided and she sat up straighter. “At first, I thought he was lying.”
“He could be,” Cal said.
She shook her head. “Look at me, Cal. I mean look at me properly. I look like one of them.”
“You don’t have the ring of fire.” It was clutching at straws. Not all sidhes had that telltale fiery brand. He should know. Even as he tried to reason Moncoya’s words away, part of him was accepting them. Stella was the necromancer star, but she was also so much more. If she was indeed a faerie, that would explain some of her additional powers.
“Moncoya said my father was mortal. Which means I’m only half sidhe. Oh, I have so many questions and no one I can ask!”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Cal stood up. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To see an angel.”
Cal had only ever traveled across dimensions alone. Attempting to do so with a companion would be a first, but Stella had powers to match his own. All she had to do was stay with him. He doubted the Dominion would be happy if he turned up with a friend in tow. Good. Because he was in just the right mood for a fight with an angel.
“Think with me, Stella.” He drew her close, holding her so that they stood face-to-face, their hands clasped. Stella’s eyelids fluttered closed. He felt the intensity of her thoughts lock onto his. Her power grew stronger every time. His might be the experience of centuries, but the prophecy was right. She was the star.
Cal cleared his mind of everything but their destination. Familiar sensations took over, sweeping him up and out of the cave, transporting Stella with him so that they were floating and flying into the cloudy sky. On and on they soared, higher and higher, through inky, impenetrable darkness and cold so thick and raw it hurt until at last the movement slowed and they began to glide down.
When their feet touched solid ground once more, Stella opened her eyes. She blinked once in surprise. The Dominion favored a businesslike approach. His appointed meeting place resembled an old-fashioned office with an elaborate walnut desk in the center and high bookshelves stacked with leather-bound volumes. The room didn’t have any walls and beyond the few square meters where they stood lay a vast expanse of nothing.
“Is this heaven?” Stella whispered.
“More like a waiting room before you go in.”
The Dominion rose from behind his desk, his billowing robes, snowy wings and benign expression perfectly in keeping with his role. “I do not remember granting permission for this audience.” There was gentle reproach in his tone.
“I don’t remember agreeing to put Stella’s life in danger while you kept us both in the dark. Now, do you mind telling us what the hell is going on?” The Dominion winced at his use of the word hell. Cal held up a hand in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry. Do you mind telling us whether this story of Moncoya’s about Stella’s parents has any grain of truth in it?”
The Dominion tented his fingers beneath his chin and appeared to consider the matter. Then, with a brisk nod, he held out his hand to Stella, who, with an expression of vague disbelief, took it. “It is my great pleasure to meet you. Your involvement and your help in the events in Otherworld have been much anticipated.” He indicated two chairs and then returned to his own seat. “So the king of the faeries has been telling you about your parents? No doubt he did so in order to convince you that, as one of his subjects, you are obliged to obey him?”
“Yes.” Stella seemed to have found her voice at last. “He said he could command me to give my heart to him, but he would rather I gave it willingly.”
“He was being somewhat economical with the truth. Not a first for him. Even under Moncoya’s rule the faeries retain free choice about whom they choose to love. He cannot command your heart, Stella, any more than he could command your mother’s. He is simply trying another tactic to get you to give it to him.”
“He tried to command my mother to love him?”
“I see he has not told you the full story about your parents.” Although Cal wanted to tell the Dominion to get on with it, he couldn’t help noticing that the angel’s voice was having a soothing effect on Stella. With an effort, he controlled his impatience.
“He told me that my mother was a sidhe princess who disgraced her royal name by eloping and choosing to live a mortal life with my father.”
“A short, rather biased account of some of the facts. Thalia, your mother, was not a sidhe princess. She was a princess, that much is true. She was of the true faerie bloodline, a direct descendant of King Ivo, the ruler Moncoya overthrew. Moncoya has always been wary of those remaining relatives, mainly because King Ivo was greatly loved by the faeries. Moncoya is a sidhe and not of the true bloodline. It is a fact that has always rankled with him. Since the massacre and Moncoya’s ascent, many of Ivo’s descendants have died in mysterious circumstances. Moncoya would not be foolish enough to bring the wrath of the faeries down upon his own head by openly harming them. Your mother was an exception. From the moment Moncoya set eyes on Thalia, he was devoted to her.”
Stella shivered slightly. “Moncoya was in love with my mother?”
“Wildly. Beyond all reason. And he saw marriage with her as a way of finally securing his throne. Because there have always been rumors that a true heir exists, a direct male descendant of Ivo. It is said that he was a baby who was smuggled out of the palace on the night of the massacre. Marriage to your mother would have laid the rumors to rest. With Thalia, another of Ivo’s descendants, at his side, Moncoya’s new dynasty would have been secure.”
“But my mother didn’t return his love?”
The Dominion shook his head. “Thalia was true to her line. She hated Moncoya, as all of Ivo’s descendants do...and she had already met and fallen in love with your father.”
“Who was my father? I remember very little of him. Just that he was big and gentle and he made me laugh.”
“Your father was a great man, Stella. And a noble necromancer. One of the greatest and a descendant of a long and ancient line. It is from him that you have inherited your power over the dead and the undead.”
“Did you know him?” Stella turned to address her question to Cal.
“No, I know most necromancers so he must have kept his identity well hidden.”
The Dominion nodded. “He preferred a quiet life. On occasion, when we called on him, he would assist us. Most of the time, he lived a quiet, human existence. It was on one of his missions for us that he met Thalia. When Moncoya learned of their love, his rage knew no bounds. Thalia fled Otherworld and lived happily with your father until they were killed.”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this when you gave me the task of protecting Stella?” Cal asked incredulously.
“It was felt that, given the strength of your existing feelings toward Moncoya, it might be best if you knew nothing of Stella’s background. We felt it might have clouded your judgment.”
“Either that or I would not have taken an assignment in the first place that brought me further evidence of what that black-hearted bastard is capable of.”
The Dominion inclined his head in acknowledgment.
“I have a birth certificate, a passport. I exist legally in the mortal world. How did that happen if my mother wasn’t mortal?” Stella had been lost in thought but she roused herself again now.
“You parents could not go through a marriage ceremony because your mother did not have any proof of her mort
al existence, but your father insisted that he wanted you to live a normal life. He was able to register your birth and provide proof of his identity. That was all that was needed.”
Stella’s brow wrinkled as if the weight of her thoughts was too great. “How long will I live? I mean, will I have a mortal life span or am I immortal?”
“You are a necromancer. That will be your choice.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “That’s quite a choice.”
The Dominion glanced from her to Cal, his expression bland. “And one you should exercise wisely. There is one more thing you should know.”
“I’m not sure I can take one more thing.”
“You must, for it is very important. When Thalia left Otherworld, Moncoya swore he would be revenged.”
There was silence as Cal and Stella digested the meaning behind this information. Cal spoke first. “You said Stella’s parents were killed.”
“I did. They were murdered by Moncoya.”
Stella raised a shaky hand to her lips. “Has it always been his intention to have me in place of my mother?”
“I believe so. For him, Stella, you are the embodiment of two dreams. You are the necromancer star of Merlin’s great prophecy. And you are Thalia’s daughter. Through you, Moncoya gets to rule Otherworld and finally take his revenge against the woman who broke his heart. He may also want you because of you.” The Dominion smiled his beatific smile. “You are very like your mother, you know.” He became suddenly businesslike. “Now, if you will excuse me. We did not schedule this meeting and I do have others waiting...”
Cal rose and took Stella’s hands again. She looked up at him with a slight smile in her eyes. “So I’m not half sidhe. What was that word you used for an illegitimate hybrid? Dóc. That’s what I am.”
He returned the smile. “That makes two of us. But, unlike you, I am half sidhe.”
Chapter 17
Even though the news reports about the suspected terrorist attack seemed to have gone quiet, Cal had decided that Stella should avoid Manchester airport. As a result, she had made the journey alone by train to Liverpool and boarded a budget airlines flight to Barcelona from there.
“It’s killing me that I can’t come with you.” Cal had held her tightly in his arms as she made ready to leave him behind.
“You don’t need me to tell you that Moncoya will have me watched every step of the way. Besides, you will be with me. Just not openly.”
“That’s not good enough anymore. Not for me.” His lips had been hungry on her throat and she had been forced to pull reluctantly away before the caress became something hotter and more demanding. She was on a schedule that didn’t allow for what Cal’s mouth was asking of her. No matter how much she ached for him. “And, even invisible, I will never get inside his palace where you’ll need me most.”
“Why didn’t he stop you from protecting me for all those years?”
“Simple. He didn’t know about me. Oh, he may have been aware that you had a protector. But he didn’t know who it was. If he’d found out it was me, he’d have moved heaven and earth—literally—to get rid of me.” His grin had been heartbreakingly mischievous. “You’d have had an even more eventful childhood.”
It was frightening how much she already missed him, how quickly she had come to depend on his nearness. It wasn’t possible, she told herself severely, as she buckled herself into her seat on the plane, to pine for someone after just a few hours apart.
“You been to Barcelona before?” The man next to Stella leaned a little too close to view the city they were leaving behind as he asked the question.
“I worked there for a few weeks not long ago.” She noticed the game on his iPad. It was one of Moncoya Enterprises’ bestselling titles. Her eyes flickered warily up to his face. He was nondescript looking. Not pretty enough to be a sidhe nor ugly enough to be a gargoyle. She relaxed a little.
“Cool.”
You have no idea. She felt a brief impulse to shock him by telling him the whole story. Yeah, I had to flee because it turns out I’m the powerful necromancer Otherworld has been waiting for and my former boss, the king of the faeries, wants to use me as a weapon to win the war to gain control over all supernatural beings. Oh, and guess what? The man I’ve been seeing is an influential sorcerer and I’m descended from faerie royalty. I’m on my way back to Barcelona right now to trick Moncoya into thinking I’m in love with him. So, yeah. “Cool” about sums it up.
He looked as if he’d be impressed. He looked like a keeper...and a stalker. Bad combination. She drew her book out of her backpack. Her companion returned to his iPad. The book she’d hurriedly shoved into her bag was the old volume about Merlin that she’d found in the market at Carmarthen. This was the first chance she’d had to look at it and she opened it, frowning as she concentrated on the archaic language in the text.
Now that she was away from Cal, an idea about his identity insinuated itself into her mind and refused to be dislodged. Too far-fetched, she told herself. So many crazy things have happened, you are allowing your mind to run away and invent new ones. Nevertheless, she attempted to search the ancient book for clues to prove or disprove her fantastic theory.
They’d been in the air for about twenty minutes when she became aware that her fellow passenger was watching her as she read. He had paused his iPad and she saw he had been watching an episode of the latest Merlin-related TV series. Her heart gave an interested little jump. He nodded from his screen to her book.
“You a fan, too?”
Stella nodded, feigning eagerness. She even managed a flutter of her eyelashes. He went an interesting shade of pink. “I missed that one,” she sighed, nodding at the screen.
Half an hour later, her book was firmly closed and her new friend, whose name was Ged, was in midflow offering his own version of the legend behind the story and why the screenwriters had got it all so hopelessly wrong. Stella’s face was starting to ache from maintaining an enraptured expression. She would have to interrupt him soon or she wouldn’t be able to ask her questions before they landed in Barcelona. They had only two and half hours.
“Are you connected to the in-flight Wi-Fi?” she asked when Ged finally paused to take a sip of his cola.
He nodded. “Wouldn’t be without it, even though it’s a rip-off.”
“Can we search for something about Merlin? I’ve always wanted to know what other names he used.” Why not push her theory a little further? Prove to herself once and for all just how foolish she was being.
“Oh, I can help you with that,” Ged boasted proudly and Stella resisted the temptation to gnash her teeth. “The name Merlin came from the Welsh name Myrddin. The great wizard was known as Merlin Ambrosius in Latin, Merlin Emrys in Welsh—”
“What did you just say?” Stella sat up a bit straighter.
“Merlin Emrys was his Welsh name. Why?”
“Oh, nothing.” She could hardly tell Ged that she had used a credit card of Cal’s in the name of Emrys Jones, could she? Emrys wasn’t exactly common, but it was a Welsh name and they had been heading to Wales. It must be a coincidence.
There was nothing coincidental about Ged’s next words. “And in Scotland he was Caledonius.”
“He was what?” Aware that her voice had become an undignified screech, she battled her emotions back under control.
“Merlin Caledonius. That was his Scots name.”
Or Cal for short? Maybe I should have asked Lorcan the all-important question. “Have you ever seen Cal and Merlin in the same room?”
“Wait till I get my hands on you.” She became aware that she’d spoken aloud and grabbed up her water bottle, taking a long calming gulp to give her something distracting to do.
“Are you okay?” Ged watched her with concern written all over his face.
“I�
�m fine,” Stella told him with a bright smile. And she was. Because it was all starting to make sense now. Either that or her sanity was unraveling.
“Ged, you are clearly a Merlin expert.” He preened himself delightedly. “What do you know about Darnantes?”
He shook his head. “Nope. You’ve lost me there.”
“Niniane?”
“Ah, she was the sorceress who Merlin fell in love with.” Stella felt her hands curl into claws and quickly straightened them. “She made him teach her everything he knew and then used his own magic against him to entomb Merlin in a rock in an enchanted forest. That’s the story anyway. I’m not so sure. I’d have expected Merlin to be smarter than that.” His expression was sad, as though he had been personally let down by Merlin.
“What was the name of the forest where he was imprisoned?”
“No idea.” He looked a bit put out.
Stella was willing to bet the forest was called Darnantes. “Is that how Merlin died?” she asked casually, knowing full well that, if her admittedly wild suspicions were correct, Merlin was very much alive and well. In fact he had kissed her goodbye that morning and would be awaiting her in Barcelona. Where he was going to get the shock of his long, wizardly life.
“No one really knows. He was never seen again after that. I go on lots of Merlin forums and opinions vary about whether he died, if he still lives buried deep in the rock or whether he escaped. If he escaped, it’s safe to assume he emerged with a different identity.”
“Maybe he went into a sort of wizard protection scheme?” Stella suggested. He looked mildly offended and she realized he was far too serious about the subject to appreciate jokes. “Sorry.”
“Why don’t we meet up in Barcelona and talk about it some more over a few drinks?” He pushed his glasses up his nose nervously. He wasn’t a stalker. He was just a harmless geek. Stella had met more than a few of them in her time. If only letting Ged down gently was the sum total of her current problems.
