Moira's Song (The Moira McCauley Series Book 1)

by Lee, Tawnya

  The hall erupted in yells and chaos.

  “Silence!” shouted Breasal.

  The hall went still. Every blood-drinker stopped and looked up at him.

  “Show us what you know, Agnes,” he said.

  Agnes pulled out a pouch from her robes. She reached into the pouch and took out a small crystal globe. She tapped it three times and tossed it into the air. A great white light shot out from every angle of the globe, and it hung suspended in the middle of the room. Images of Keita casting spells and William describing plans to kill key blood-drinkers and Moira played like a hologram in the middle of the room. The image switched to William prying secrets from the unwitting Nanny Piper. The last scene showed William leading a group of rebels in flight, with William shouting, “To North Kessock!”

  The light faded and the globe dropped back into her hand.

  “I’ve been watching them ever since I counseled Paul to be careful in his dealings with Moira. I believed they would use this to destabilize our world. I was right,” Agnes said.

  “Yes. Unfortunately, you were right,” Breasal said.

  “What do we do now?” asked Sedric.

  Agnes raised her staff and pounded the ground three times. The whole house trembled. Chandeliers swung and lights flickered. “You fight. Myself, the witches, and Breasal must work to restore Moira. Seara and Liam! You two must protect the children. Should Moira wake to find her children dead, there is no telling what vengeance she will seek.”

  Seara and Liam flew to the nursery, grabbed the children, and carried them through a secret passageway to a tunnel leading to Moray Firth. From there, they entered a small, unoccupied flat on the edge of the water, away from Breasal’s home.

  Breasal, Agnes, and the other witches ran to Moira’s room. Kali, displeased with so many guests, sprang from the bed and hid in the bathroom closet. Faolon stood guard at the door and readied himself for battle. Inside the room, the witches gathered around the bed. Agnes poured salt along the edge of the door and window. She lit a bundle of white sage and smoked the room. The witches gathered around Moira, and pulled small drums covered in horse hide out of satchels that hung on their shoulders. They pounded the drums in a rhythmic beat, a monotonous and trance-inducing tone. Agnes pulled a white blade from her satchel and called on the four quarters.

  “Oh great spirits of the North. We thank you for your help and ask for your presence here today. Hail and welcome.”

  “Hail and welcome,” the women chanted back.

  “Oh great spirits of the East. We thank you for your help and ask for your presence here today. Hail and welcome.”

  “Hail and welcome,” came the chorus reply.

  “Oh great spirits of the South. We thank you for your help and ask for your presence here today. Hail and welcome.”

  “Hail and welcome.”

  “Oh great spirits of the West. We thank you for your help and ask for your presence here today. Hail and welcome.”

  “Hail and welcome.”

  Agnes lifted the blade and rotated in a circle as she spoke. “I cast this circle in the name of Anu. I cast this circle in the name of Macha. I cast this circle in the name of Badb. Let nothing but love emerge. Let nothing but love enter in. Protect us, Dark Queen.”

  A bright white light encircled the women.

  Agnes motioned to Breasal.

  “Come here. Now it’s your turn.”

  Breasal moved to Moira’s bedside. “What do I do?” he asked.

  “We will hold space for you. But you are her maker. It is up to you to restore her essence. Starting with her feet, move your hands slowly over her body while you hold this doll. You will feel the energy rise to meet you. When you feel a release and the energy flowing, move up her body until finally you are at the crown of her head.”

  She handed Breasal a small white doll. It had no face or hair. When Breasal touched it, he felt an electricity run up his arm.

  “What is this thing?” he asked.

  “I made a doll, and every day Moira has lain here, I imbued the doll with love and purity and energy. I then hid it in the Raven’s Stone at the kirk in Tyrie by the light of the moon. It is now ready to be released into her body.”

  Breasal nodded and took the doll. Starting at her feet, he held the doll roughly six inches above her body. A red, glowing light began to form at her feet. Breasal’s eyes widened, but he continued holding the doll in place. Without thinking he moved the doll up the length of her legs to her groin. He watched the red color intensify and grow, following the direction of the doll. He then moved the doll to her stomach just above her her womb. The light turned orange. Sparks flew and popped. Moira stirred and moaned.

  “Keep moving the doll, but slowly,” said Agnes.

  Breasal nodded, never lifting his eyes from Moira’s body. As he continued moving the doll, he noticed the colors move from orange to yellow to green. He also noticed an increase in temperature. The doll became warm to his touch. As the green light was moving and swirling just over her chest, he heard a loud crash and screaming and yelling in other parts of the house.

  “Keep going, Breasal. No matter what you hear, you must keep going,” Agnes said.

  The house began to shake. Breasal steadied himself and continued to hold the doll over Moira’s chest. The women grabbed hands and formed a semi-circle around Moira and Breasal. They began to chant softly under their breath. Breasal couldn’t make out their words. The sounds of fighting could be heard from outside the room. Suddenly, the door began to shake. Someone was banging against the door. They heard one final shove against the door, and a loud crash on the ground. Blood began to seep under the door frame into the room.

  Breasal’s hand began to shake.

  “Focus!” Agnes yelled at him.

  The door bursted open. William stood, holding a pouch, breathless and sweaty. Breasal continued to move the doll up Moira’s body. The color turned blue just over Moira’s throat. William grinned, clutching the pouch. He tried to run through the white dome but bounced against it, landing on the floor. Faolon’s gloved hands gripped his iron sword. He rushed from the window towards William. William rolled and missed the blade by inches. Still holding onto the pouch, he began to laugh.

  “It’s too late now. We are here. We will destroy you,” he said.

  Breasal continued to move the doll, now hovering it over Moira’s eyes. The color turned purple. William opened the pouch Keita gave him and threw the contents into the air. A large cloud formed from the dust of the ashes. It hovered over the top of the white dome and shifted into the shape of a dragon. The dragon spouted fire at the dome, singeing its edges.

  “Ladies, keep going. Don’t give up,” Agnes said.

  The women continued to hold hands and chant. The dragon roared, hurling fire at Moira. The edges of the white dome cracked. Breasal moved the doll to the very top of Moira’s head. The light turned indigo and began to swirl counter-clockwise around Moira’s entire body.

  “NO!” shouted William.

  The dragon raised back and roared again, this time blasting a hole through the dome. The cloud creature began to breathe in once more and started throwing flames towards Moira when Faolon sliced William through the neck, severing his head. He then threw the sword in the direction of the cloud creature. It began to scream and hiss. The dragon tried to burn Faolon, but instead fire blasted toward the ceiling. The light around Moira expanded through the entire room and then collapsed back into her body. A white gleam radiated from her and she began to levitate from the bed. She hovered several feet in the air. Breasal stood mouth agape; the chanting of the women stopped. Moira stretched and raised herself, still floating and bathed in white light.

  Her eyes were white. No pupil or iris, just radiating white light. She roared at the cloud form and it popped and disintegrated. She grabbed William’s head and floated through the room, into the hall, and hovered over the stairway. The witches released their circle, and dropped to their knees, thanking the
gods.

  Faolon followed Moira, as did Breasal. They stopped, watching her, as she held the lifeless, bloodied head.

  “Your leader is dead. I’m alive. Leave!” she shouted.

  The sound of her voice echoed throughout the hall. The rebel fuilteacha fled the house. Moira looked at the head in her hands. It burst into flames and disintegrated. She lowered to the ground, and looked at the other blood-drinkers that remained.

  “I am Moira. I am your protector. I am your queen.”

  The crowd muttered. One by one, the blood-drinkers began to bow. “Hail to the Queen. Hail to the Queen.” The chant grew louder and louder. Moira smiled.

  “Where is Paul?” she asked.

  “Come with me, Moira,” Faolon said.

  She followed the guard down the hallway. They entered Paul’s room. He lay on the bed, hands folded over his chest. His skin gleamed white. He reminded Moira of a masculine Snow White as she touched his hand.

  “Paul. Paul. It’s me. It’s Moira.”

  Paul began to stir. He groaned in soft tones and turned his head toward the sound of her voice. Moira leaned over Paul and kissed him. She then bit into her own wrist and squeezed her blood onto his mouth. His eyes opened. He grabbed her wrist and drank until she made him stop.

  “It’s time to get up.”

  A flood of emotion washed over him. He sat up in the bed, confused and groggy.

  “We have a Tribunal to form,” Moira said. She squeezed his hand, and then walked to the door.

  Agnes stood in the hallway between the rooms. Her grizzled hands grasped the staff.

  “Stop! Moira, I have a word for you from the Great Queen herself.”

  Moira stopped, her eyes blazing. “What is it?” she said.

  “Go to Ireland. War is coming. A great war never seen before. Fuilteach against fuilteach, and cailleach against cailleach. Raise your warriors to fight. Choose well and you will unite us all. Choose poorly and death will reign. There will be no more witch or vampire. Humanity will be but a whiff of smoke from a flame burnt out. But before this war, you will suffer your greatest heartache yet. You will be rent in two. You’ll lose your hopes and dreams, and new ones will take their place. In your greatest heartache, Eire will save you. Do what’s right.”

  Moira stared at the old woman. She stepped towards Agnes, grasped the old woman’s free hand, and kissed it.

  “Thank you,” Moira’s eyes turned blue again.

  “You’re welcome, my child. But don’t thank me. Listen and take heed.”

  “Breasal, where are my children?” she asked. Moira let go of Agnes’ hand and looked at her maker.

  “They’re safe. Hidden. Follow me,” Breasal answered.

  “Lead the way.”

  They clasped hands and disappeared from sight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  And So It begins

  Moira and Breasal landed just outside the cottage where Seara and Liam secreted the boys. Rolling clouds rushed past the moon over the bay. The tide crashed onto the shore nearby. The smell of sea salt infused with sand struck Moira’s nostrils. The wind whipped her hair around her face; her solitary band of white hair popped fluorescent in the moonlit sky.

  The one-room cottage was covered in uneven stones, pasted together with cement. The window trim and door were painted with a dusty blue to match the blue thatched roof. Red flower boxes lined the small porch and entrance way. Cobwebs stretched across the corners of the door, tiny insects crawling away in a race to safety from the spider lurking in the shadows. One unlucky fly lay wrapped in the center of the web. Breasal cleared his throat and knocked on the door three times.

  “Why don’t we just fly inside or whisper the magic words?” Moira asked.

  “They aren’t magic words. And Seara and Liam are both hyper-vigilant at the moment. I don’t want to startle them or your children.”

  “Right, makes sense.”

  Liam opened the door. His mouth gaped open as he stared at Moira.

  “Well, ya idjit, are ya gonna stand gawking or let us in?” Breasal said.

  “Blessed Mary, ye’re alive!” Liam said. He grabbed Moira in a tight embrace. Moira, surprised, slowly wrapped her arms around him and gingerly patted his back. Holding her shoulders, he pushed her away to look at her again.

  “Blessed be the gods. Well, get inside you two. Get inside.”

  When Seara saw Moira stepped through the door, she gasped.

  “It’s you! Is everything okay then? Oh wait, there’s your wee ones. I’m sure you’ll be wanting to know. They’re sleeping. Out like a light.”

  She pointed to a corner of the room. An antique crib, ivory paint peeling, stood in the corner. Moira walked over and stroked each of the boys in turn, tears streaming her cheeks. She leaned over the crib and kissed their heads. Deep in slumber, they never stirred.

  “Thank you. Thank you for keeping them safe for me.”

  “But you?” Seara asked. “What happened? Is Paul all right? Did they attack? Is he alive?”

  Breasal sat on the corner of a bed opposite the crib. The faded quilt barely covered the edges of the mattress. The brass headboard was dull, with rusted joints. Above it, a crucifix was mounted on the wall. A crocheted “Bless this home” hung beneath it, framed. Moira sat beside him and watched Seara and Liam as they took seats on a battered couch against the wall near the door.

  “They attacked. William’s dead. Faolon did it. Cut his head clean off. And Paul’s awake. Doing well,” Breasal said.

  He relayed the evenings’ events to his old friends up to the point of Paul being woke by Moira, then clutched Moira’s hand.

  “Moira, there’s something we have to tell you,” Breasal said.

  “While you were out, William wormed his way into Nanny Piper’s confidences. She didn’t mean to say anything, but he’s good at sorting thoughts out, mind control, ya know. That’s how he learned of your condition. I’m not sure of what all he managed to pry from her mind, but we will have to let the nannies go. We can’t be having any more leaks like that. I don’t know what we’ll do in the meantime. But for now, we can’t take chances on what the rebellion will or won’t do in the future. Nor who’ll they’ll use to do it. It’s just not safe having anyone outside our circle in the home.”

  “You let her in. You brought them in the house. You found the nannies! You didn’t think this could happen? I mean, it didn’t occur to me because I’d only been a vampire, what, a few days? But you knew you could manipulate humans. And it didn’t occur to you?” Moira dropped his hand, and folded her arms around her. There was no one to trust. No one! God fucking almighty.

  “We’ll find another way, Moira. I don’t know how yet. Maybe we’ll all take turns. Maybe we’ll use enchantments. But we’ll find a way,” Seara said.

  “Yeah. It’s not your children that shitheads will be trying to get to, is it?”

  The four blood-drinkers dropped into silence. The sounds of waves crashing and the chatter of seagulls filled the silence. Finally, Moira spoke.

  “Thank you, Seara, for keeping the boys safe. I’m sorry I bit your head off,” Moira said. “You too, Liam.”

  “Tá fáilte romhat,”50 said Liam. “Breasal can be a right wanker sometimes. Can’t blame ya there.”

  “Moira, I’m sorry about the nannies. You’re right. I should’ve thought about the rebellion trying to get to you through them. I’ll let them go first thing in the morning. As soon as they arrive.”

  He patted her shoulder. Moira jerked away from him and stood, pacing the room.

  “Yes, you should’ve thought, but you didn’t.”

  “So, what now?” Breasal asked.

  “Ireland. You heard what the old witch said. And as gorgeous as Scotland is, I know I’m supposed to be there, even if she hadn’t said what she said.”

  “What’s this about a witch?” asked Seara.

  “Agnes, the witch with the sight...” said Breasal.

  Moira interrupted. “
She told me to go to Ireland. I will face my greatest heartache, my dreams will all die, and Ireland will help heal me. And something about a great war.”

  Seara and Liam exchanged glances.

  “Well, uh, did she say how soon this war would happen? It may be a good time for me to see Australia. Always wanted to go,” said Liam.

  Seara elbowed him.

  “No. If there’s a war, we’ll be there. I meant what I said on the plane. I’m in. I’m here, and I believe in ya,” she said.

  Moira half-smiled at Seara then walked back to her kids.

  “I know they’re asleep, but I’d feel safer back at the house. Let’s get the kids to their own beds and deal with everything else tomorrow.”

  “Whatever you want,” said Breasal.

  While Seara and Liam gathered the boys’ things, Moira picked up her children.

  Derek rubbed his eyes and looked at his mom.

  “Am I dreaming, momma?”

  “No, baby. I’m all better. We’re gonna take you back to Breasal’s now. Is that okay?”

  “Yes. I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby. More than you could know.”

  Back at Breasal’s, Moira sat in the kitchen holding both boys on her lap. The excitement of flying to Breasal’s woke the children. And despite the hour, Moira had been away so long she didn’t care if for one night their schedule was upended. She thought the occasion deserved the celebration. They laughed and grabbed at her, kissing her face and hands. She smiled and kissed each one on the top of the head.

  “Oh, Mommy’s missed you so much.”

  She looked across the kitchen table, and smiled at the faces staring back. Breasal, Seara, Dubhan, Liam, and Faolon sat around the table watching Moira.

  “Thank you, all of you, for feeding me. Protecting me. I couldn’t speak, but I was aware. I kept dreaming of a woman. She was fierce, always with a raven. She had dark hair and often shifted into the form of a bird, or would sit, riding a cow. She called herself the Morrigan. She told me I was chosen to protect her children. She looked like the woman in your bedroom, Breasal. That’s a picture of the Morrigan, isn’t it?”