by Ann Hunter
The rat squeaked and scuttled under the door to the cell. Aowyn moved closer to the window. Feet shuffled by, setting up tables and banners. Past the bastion, Aowyn saw colorful tents surrounding the stands and the list. A knight in onyx armor and a red plume zipped past on a hulking, high-bred black steed. He unseated his rival with ease. Aowyn thought it must be Rab Blacksteed, no doubt named for the reasons obvious.
Aowyn sighed. The sun reached its zenith. A few more hours and she would be marched to her end. She struggled to come to terms with it. She would finally have rest from her earthly cares. She would be with her mother. Aowyn hoped Sylas would keep to his promise when the one-thousandth moon ro… Aowyn paused. One-thousand moons. It was tonight. She only had to keep to the bargain a few more hours. Her family would be saved.
Salvation came with a price.
Could Aowyn keep her end of the deal? Could she take the secret to her grave?
She wished there was another way.
Aowyn scanned the crush of people hurrying about. She gripped the bars of the window to brace herself as she stood on tiptoe. Rays of sunshine beat down on a face Aowyn could not have been happier to see. Maeb!
The nursemaid shaded her eyes and scanned tensely. She wrung her hands. Aowyn bit her lip. Oh, gods. Maeb, please see me!
Maeb swayed as she searched. She turned her back toward the cell window.
Aowyn choked back a cry. No! Turn back!
Maeb glanced over her shoulder. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Aowyn!”
Aowyn reached through the cell window. Here. I’m here, Maeb!
Maeb took a few steps toward her.
Aowyn’s heart leapt.
Maeb squinted and leaned from foot to foot and wrung her hands again. Her skin pinked in the sun. Her voice shook. “Aowyn.”
Aowyn smacked the stones outside in an effort to get Maeb’s attention. Maeb. Over here! Gods, why can she not see me?
“Aowyn!” Maeb called again. She was starting to get strange looks.
Aowyn turned sideways so that her arm stretched further outside. I’m right here, Maeb.
Aowyn’s fingers wriggled frantically. She waved her arm and tried to make what noise she could. She dare not cry out for her brothers’ sakes, and she did not want to attract the attention of the guards. She slid her arm away for a moment to see Maeb walking through the bastion with her shoulders slumped.
No! Aowyn kicked the stones of her cell. She grabbed the empty chamber pail and hurled it at the door. No!
Aowyn slid down against the wall and buried her face in her hands to weep.
***
Xander stood outside facing the priest and the doors of the church with Lady Glenna to his left. He wore all black with a velvet cape trimmed in bear fur. The last of the sunlight shone on Glenna’s hair, crowned with orange blossoms. Jewels of beryl and amethyst adorned her blue gown trimmed with gold. Xander couldn’t help but think how much lovelier Aowyn would appear in the same attire. He linked hands with Glenna who offered him a fond smile. They readied themselves to enter the chapel for the nuptial mass, as vows were taken outside of the churches in the Twelve Kingdoms.
Guests surrounded them, waiting to go into the chapel. A small commotion arose as a short, round woman squabbled anxiously among them. Xander glanced over his shoulder. What was Maeb doing here?
The priest raised his hand over the couple’s heads. “If there are any among you who know why this man and this woman should not be joined together, speak now or forever hold your – ”
“Adulterer!” Maeb yelled in the tongue of her king.
Xander turned.
Maeb pushed her way through. “Adulterer. Adulterer!”
The priest leveled a puzzled glare at Xander. “I do not understand her. Is there something you would like to confess that would prohibit you from marrying Lady Glenna?”
Xander cringed, glad that Rab was tied up at the lists and not here to see this.
Maeb crashed into him, then backed away and pointed an accusing finger, panting all the while. “Adulterer.”
Xander took Maeb by the wrist and pulled her close, speaking in her own tongue. “What are you doing?” he hissed.
Maeb, breathless, answered back without hesitation. “Aowyn is here, and she loves you!”
Xander’s eyes instantly began scanning the guests, desperately searching for his lady love.
Maeb pulled a lock of his hair to bring his ear closer to her again. “I’ve lost track of her. I fear something terrible has happened.”
Xander winced. He grasped Maeb’s hand and put it from him. “Glenna.” Xander took both of her hands in his. “I know our marriage is important to the kingdom, and we have a friendship, you and I.”
Glenna blinked at him expectantly. “Yes.”
Xander sighed. “I do not love you. I cannot marry you.”
The crowd gasped.
Glenna was quiet a long moment. A bright smile lit her face. “Well that’s a relief!”
Xander’s eyes widened.
Glenna began laughing as though a burden had been lifted from her.
Xander’s head tipped back as he chuckled. A wildness filled him. “This is madness! Why are we here?”
Glenna rolled her eyes. “Something about a contract and outdated laws.”
“We are grown, Glenna…” Xander implied.
Glenna smiled softly. “Yes. Yes, we are. Let us make our own destinies.”
Xander swept her into his arms and kissed her cheek.
Maeb tugged at Xander’s sleeve, pulling him away through a sea of very confused onlookers.
***
A tear slipped down Aowyn’s cheek as the moon ascended. The door to her cell opened, and she rose calmly. She glanced back at the moon and felt as though her mother abided with her. “My love is like the moon—shining and eternal. And as long as it rises in the sky, you shall never be alone.”
Aowyn faced the guards and raised her chin. She took a deep breath. I am not alone.
She approached the guards and followed them until they arrived outside.
An executioner fell in behind them.
They walked out into the bailey and strode under the bastion. Aowyn marched down a beaten path near the outer wall. When they turned the corner, she stopped cold. A stake had been erected in a clearing, and an alternating stack of straw and timber climbed around it. The moon shone down on it. Aowyn’s heart paused.
I am not alone, she repeated to herself.
The guards coerced her into moving again. They approached an opening in the stack. The executioner climbed onto it and pulled Aowyn up beside him.
Aowyn’s heart galloped. I am not alone.
Although the executioner was a giant to Aowyn, he handled her with more care than the guards had. Aowyn leaned her head back to the stake and gasped for breath as the executioner bound her to the pole. Her eyes fixed on the moon. Mother!
The executioner hopped down from the pile and layered more straw around Aowyn’s ankles and feet.
Aowyn flexed her arms and closed her fists against the ropes binding her wrists behind her to the stake. She closed her eyes, bathed in moonlight, waiting for the fire to be lit. Her toes curled preemptively. Straw rustled beneath her.
Nothing happened.
Aowyn opened her eyes to see the executioner a short distance off. Lord Rab advanced from the lists carrying a torch. A crush of people formed behind him.
Aowyn whimpered.
She looked at the moon again. One-thousand! Sylas, where are you?
Aowyn struggled against the stake. She shut her eyes as angry tears slid out. I summon thee, Sylas Mortas! She yelled in her head, I SUMMON THEE, SYLAS MORTAS!
Aowyn’s eyes opened as the crickets’ chirping slowed to an echo and became blurred and airy. It sounded like faeries’ song.
The guards moved to meet their Lord Master, but it was as if they moved through sludge. Their steps blurred. Voices dropped.
A tall form in a
black cloak approached Aowyn’s future pyre. He slid back his hood to reveal a shock of orange hair and sallow green skin. “You call and I answer.”
Aowyn’s eyes pleaded with him.
Sylas wagged a spindly finger. “Magic comes with a price, dearie. You said you were willing to pay it.”
Aowyn leaned her head back against the stake. A tear slipped down her ruddy cheek.
“I cannot simply magic it all away,” Sylas reminded.
Aowyn nodded slowly in understanding. It was more than she had bargained for.
Sylas pressed his fingers together to form a point. “It is the simple things that are the most difficult.”
He backed away and drew his hood over his head as a crush of bodies swarmed around him and time rushed forward.
More guards arrived on the scene to help contain the frenzy that would surely come.
Lord Rab stood before the unlit pyre, torch in hand. “I give you one last chance. Confess your crime.”
Aowyn raised her chin and locked her eyes on the moon. I am the Queen of the Summer Isle, and I am innocent.
Lord Rab shook his head and angled the torch toward the first pile of straw. “Such a waste.”
The pyre jumped to life.
“No!” screamed a voice.
Aowyn’s eyes darted away from mother moon to the voice.
Xander fought against his father. He reached toward the pyre. “Wynnie!”
The fire climbed the stack.
Xander turned to his father. “Please, she’s done nothing! I swear it! I know her.” Xander ventured to reach the pyre again, but the guards held him back. “Aowyn!”
The wood burned more slowly than the straw. The flame crept upward, ever upward.
Maeb pressed through the crowd breathlessly and moaned fitfully when she saw Aowyn.
Xander drew his sword on his father. “Let her go!”
Aowyn began coughing as the smoke reached her. She stood on tiptoe as the flames approached.
The sound of swords clashing strained against the crackle and pop of the fire. Aowyn’s eyes watered. She stared into the crowd. Sylas remained at the center, but another hooded figure hunched at the front. A sly, conniving smile curled the corner of her withering mouth. She leaned upon a small walking stick. A black rune symbol was burnt into her hand.
Aowyn’s throat tightened. I know your name, she-witch. You have struck us down with no relief. Aowyn coughed and sputtered. Flames reached over the final layer of timber like goblins clawing for purchase.
Xander continued to fight his way to the pyre.
The heat was intense, and Aowyn bit back a cry. She locked her eyes on the moon once more, trying to hold out a little longer. A little longer and it would all be over!
A black form dove from the sky and barreled into a guard. Aowyn’s gaze drifted. Two large white forms dove after it and swooped over the guards’ heads with angry honks. They soared against the stars before diving and assaulting again.
Aowyn wilted behind the flames.
Xander momentarily became stunned by the sudden arrival of four swans. The first black one pummeled a guard before barreling into the earth. He lay still on the ground. A blue light swirled from the silky vanes of his feathers. Xander’s eyes widened as swan turned into man. Maeb raced over, choking with tears, and covered him. “Choróin!”
The nursemaid motioned to the poor man’s nakedness until someone helped her. Áodhán an Choróin stumbled to his feet in a borrowed long shirt. He pressed his hand to his head and groaned.
Xander disarmed a guard and hurled the sword at Choróin, calling him to arms.
Choróin shook his head with disorientation. He caught the sword and rushed toward the guards.
Xander rammed his shoulder into Rab, knocking him out of the way. He gave all of his effort to leap upon the pyre. The flames curled around him. He cried out as he cut Aowyn free. Her body slid into his arms.
Archers took aim at the diving swans.
Xander leapt from the pyre just as it cracked and crumbled beneath him. He moved Aowyn over his shoulder and swung his sword at Rab’s reinforcements.
An arrow found its mark in the heart of a white swan. It careened backwards on impact and then spun uncontrollably to the ground. Another white swan honked and landed beside him. Maeb rushed to their aid. Blue flames erupted from the first swan as a young man coughed and gripped the arrow in his heart. The other swan collapsed beside him. He turned into a naked brother, clutching his twin close, “Lorgaire!”
Maeb threw a blanket over the former white swan and wept. “Rógaire Aohearn.”
Rógaire cradled his twin. Lorgaire gurgled blood and breathed his painful last.
Choróin and Xander pressed back to back, fighting off a swarm of guards and Lord Rab. The other people began to scatter as the fighting approached them.
A black swan plummeted into Lord Rab. His feathers had barely begun to change to skin when Rab stuck his sword through Caoin Croí’s belly.
Choróin roared and rushed at Rab.
Xander moved as quickly as he could to stop him. He shifted Aowyn over to Choróin and then turned to Rab with a dark expression. “This one is mine.”
Choróin held Aowyn and lifted his sword to protect them.
Xander grabbed his father by the collar of his crimson shirt and forced him to his knees. “Confess your crimes, and I will show mercy.”
“I did what the law of the land demanded.”
“Yes, you carried it out to the letter… and did not stop when one spoke on behalf of her innocence. Now look at her.” Xander pointed his sword toward Aowyn.
Rab stared at Xander.
Xander grabbed his father’s burnt face and forced him to face Aowyn. “Look at her!”
Rab turned toward Aowyn, unconscious in her brother’s arms. Her feet were badly burned, and her legs were pink.
Xander’s voice quaked. “I loved her.” Xander lowered his head to his father’s ear as he broke down in tears. “Don’t you remember what it’s like to love someone?”
Rab’s eyes began to well over.
Xander clutched his father’s collar tighter momentarily before throwing him to the ground. He strode to Choróin and took Aowyn from him. He buried his face in her singed hair. “Aowyn.”
Aowyn beheld the face of Sulwen. The raven-haired queen brushed a few stray strands from Aowyn’s face and smiled.
Aowyn threw her arms around Sulwen and hugged her as tightly as she could. “I’m never letting go.”
Sulwen stroked Aowyn’s hair. “I don’t think you ever did to begin with.”
Aowyn leaned back in her mother’s arms with a confused expression.
Sulwen caressed Aowyn’s cheek and kissed her. “You need to let me go, Wyn. I cannot rest in Mag Mell if you cling to me in this world.”
Aowyn took in the evergreens, lush grass, and starry sky. “Is this not Mag Mell?”
Sulwen’s expression held softness. “You were born a queen among queens, my Aowyn. A good queen does not falter. She does not wane….”
This was all beginning to sound too familiar to Aowyn. She swung her arms around Sulwen’s neck and clutched her with desperation. “Do not leave me again!”
Sulwen hugged her back. She put Aowyn a little distance from her and lifted her chin. “I never did. My love is like the moon—shining and eternal. And as long as it rises in the sky, you shall never be alone.”
The words echoed as Sulwen blurred and faded.
Aowyn’s eyes slowly opened to starry skies. Xander wept over her. Aowyn mustered the strength to sweep her fingers through his wavy hair.
Xander lifted his head and stared incredulously into her green eyes.
Aowyn smiled weakly and took in a breath of summer air.
Xander stifled a sob as a grin plastered his face. “Maeb! Brothers!”
Choróin rushed closer. His pained expression filled with bittersweetness. He rubbed a smudge from Aowyn’s forehead and kissed her cheek deeply. He
leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, “Your love was enough, Wynnie.”
Aowyn pulled herself upright in Xander’s arms. She looked to Choróin, then searched for Caoin Croí, Lorgaire, and Rógaire. She wrenched out a cry when she saw her fallen brothers.
Choróin squeezed her shoulder. “Your love broke the spell.”
Aowyn shook her head and wept against Xander’s shoulders.
Xander freckled her with slow kisses.
“What more could you ask for, Wyn?” Choróin inquired.
Aowyn forced herself to still her tears. She scanned those still present and saw the woman in the black cloak with the rune hand.
Aowyn’s eyes glinted. To prick my heel. To pierce my heart. To make me bleed.
An accusing finger shot toward the hag.
The old woman backed into the throng slowly until she stumbled into Sylas Mortas.
Aowyn motioned that she would like to be put down, despite her injuries. She slung her arms over Xander and Choróin’s shoulders so that they could bear her weight between them. She hobbled forward. Aowyn’s voice slowly returned to her. Though it was weak from disuse, her words rang through the fold. “A good queen does not falter. She does not wane…”
Sylas Mortas’s fingers curled into the old woman’s arms.
Aowyn pulled back the witch’s hood. “…Does she, Crwys?”
Crwys wailed and withered.
“This is the witch you seek, Lord Rab.” Aowyn nodded at Xander’s father. “She cursed me and my brothers.” Aowyn straightened as tall as she could between Choróin and Xander. She raised her chin defiantly as she spoke to those present. “I am Aowyn, daughter of Aodhagáin the Firebeard, Son of the Sun. I am Queen of the Summer Isle, and I now invoke the wrath of the Sun God upon the ban sídhe Crwys!”
Guards seized Crwys and dragged her toward the the pyre, still ablaze with the last of the timber. Hot coals and embers sizzled. The guards threw Crwys down upon them.
