The Stolen: An American Faerie Tale

by O'Connell, Bishop

  Edward nodded.

  “Brendan will give you Justin’s name and you’ll compel him three times to appear. The third time, he should manifest in the center of the circle, which will also serve to hold him.”

  “What then?”

  “You’ll compel him to answer our questions. When you ask, use his name. I’ll tell you what to ask so he can’t give us misleading answers. When he’s first summoned and with each question, there’ll be a battle of wills. That’s where the compulsion comes in.”

  “Battle of wills?” Caitlin asked. “What happens if Eddy loses?”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I can be stubborn when I want to be.”

  Caitlin looked apologetically at Edward.

  “Justin would escape,” Dante said. “He could also get a shot off on his way out.”

  “So, don’t lose,” Edward said.

  Dante smiled. “You’ll have the advantage. You’ve got his true name, you’ll have the circle protecting you, and this is your demesne.”

  “You’ll be fine, boss,” Brendan said as he came back down the stairs. “Just be sure of yourself.”

  “He’s right,” Dante said. “That’s the most important part of this, or any other kind of magic. You have to believe you can do it. If you don’t, there’s no point in trying.”

  “I can do it.” Edward laughed a little. “No pressure, right?”

  Caitlin gave him a hug and kissed his cheek, her lips lingering a bit longer than ever before. “I believe in you.”

  Edward hugged her back. “We’ll find out where she is and we’ll get her back.”

  “I know.” Caitlin broke the embrace and stepped back.

  “Back here, love.” Brendan pulled Caitlin several paces away. “If you’re going to stay, you need to keep out of harm’s way and let the man work.”

  All her concerns and questions about Edward’s ability and behavior threatened to bubble up, but she pushed them back down.

  “Tell him Justin’s name.” Dante put his fingers in his ears.

  Brendan stepped up to Edward. “Justarisheeth. Just-­are-­ee-­sheeth.” He said each syllable slowly, pronouncing each part. “Repeat it back to me.”

  “Just-­arr-­ee-­sh-­ee-­th,” Edward said. “Justarisheeth. Is that right?”

  “Aye, that’s it.” Brendan patted his shoulder. “Make sure you pronounce it just like that.”

  “I’ll get it right. Don’t worry, I got it.” He repeated it a ­couple more times under his breath.

  “Okay then.” Brendan nodded at Dante, who took his fingers from his ears. “Don’t worry, you’ll do fine. Just keep focused.”

  “Why’d Dante cover his ears?” Caitlin asked Brendan.

  “He’s forbidden from getting another fae’s true name from anyone but the owner.”

  “Take a minute and clear your mind,” Dante said. His voice was calm and even. “Let your worries and doubts drift aside.”

  Edward closed his eyes and took in long, slow breaths.

  “Let the magic flow through you and over you,” Dante said. “Don’t push it, don’t force it. Instead, guide it, direct it.”

  Caitlin watched as the seconds ticked by. After what felt like a week, Edward opened his eyes and whispered as he touched the circle. Tension filled the room, as if it had become pressurized. Instinctively, she found herself yawning to try to pop her ears.

  “Won’t do no good,” Brendan said. “You’ll get used to the feeling soon enough.”

  The circle began to fill with a soft blue radiance, as if someone poured the fluid from a glow stick into the etching. The intensity increased, and the lighting of the room seemed to diminish.

  For a brief instant, Caitlin wondered what they’d do if this didn’t work. No, it would work. It had to work. Eddy wouldn’t let himself fail.

  Dante spoke into Edward’s ear. The air in the room grew heavier, and Caitlin felt like she was trying to breathe through a wet wool blanket.

  Edward spoke softly and his fingers moved in the air.

  The minutes dragged.

  There was a cold stab of panic in Caitlin’s heart when she saw Edward wobble. She took a step forward to help him, but Brendan caught her arm.

  “Stay back. Dante will take care of him. It’ll be all right. He’s just not used to exerting himself. It can take a toll on you if you’re not used to it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Brendan nodded and didn’t let go of her arm. “He’ll be fine. I wouldn’t have suggested this if I didn’t think he could pull it off.”

  The room lurched. Caitlin’s stomach knotted and her knees went weak. Brendan’s arm wrapped around her and pulled her close, holding her up.

  “I got you, love.”

  A whirling mass of white clouds emerged in the center of the circle and electricity arced off them. It was like watching a miniature lightning storm.

  Dante covered his ears. “Now.”

  “Justarisheeth! I summon you!” Edward shouted, his voice reverberating oddly, as if echoing from several directions at once.

  An explosion of white light erupted in the center of the clouds and drew them in. It was like a star in the center of a nebula.

  “Justarisheeth! I summon you!” he shouted again. He wavered as the clouds began to turn gray, growing darker as they churned.

  The room began to shake.

  Edward opened his mouth to speak the third time, and red lightning shot out from the center of the clouds. It hit the air at the circle’s edge and lashed out at different points.

  Caitlin looked from Edward to Dante and then to Brendan. The latter was staring with hard eyes at the circle, his jaw muscles flexed.

  She gasped as Edward stumbled forward, but he caught himself inches from the edge of the circle. Her body tensed and her hands started to shake. “Please . . .”

  Edward closed his eyes and lifted his right hand, palm facing the circle. “Justarisheeth! Oíche-­sidhe! I summon you, now!”

  Caitlin could hear the strain in the command, even though it was shouted. Her stomach did an intricate gymnastics routine and she held her breath.

  The red lightning stopped, the clouds were pulled into a violent implosion, and the room shook again. Bright light drew itself in, then exploded against the unseen wall. When the light faded, a beautiful young man stood where the swirling clouds had been.

  Familiar fear poured over Caitlin. The terror fought against the relief of knowing that the spell had worked and her desire to make him pay for kidnapping Fiona.

  Black eyes burned as they scanned the room. His pointed teeth flashed as his mouth twisted into a snarl and his gaze settled first on Edward, now on his knees and breathing hard. Contempt poured from the faerie’s eyes, and they moved from Edward to Dante. The pure and raw hatred in them made Caitlin look away. She’d never seen anyone look at someone like that, and she hoped she never would again.

  “Magister,” Justin spat, more than said. “You’ll pay for this.” Sharp claws grew from his fingertips and he dragged them down the invisible barrier created by the circle. Long, bright blue scratches hung in his wake before fading.

  “Get on with it, already,” Brendan said, then whispered to Caitlin. “It’ll be fine, love. It’s nearly done. Be strong.”

  Strength, warmth, and confidence radiated from Brendan. She looked into his face and saw resolve. Something burned under the surface though, and it melted the cold fear, filling and feeding a slow burning anger in her. She’d scarcely had a violent thought in her adult life, but right now, she wanted nothing more than to beat the information out of Justin with her bare hands, to feel the satisfaction of his flesh and bone breaking under her fists.

  Justin laughed at Caitlin. She flinched, and as images of her first encounter with the oíche returned, fear ate at the edges of her ange
r and she found herself drawing closer to Brendan.

  “Fian, díbeartach,” Justin said, each word soaked in venom. “I’ll have repayment from you for giving my name to another.” He glanced at Edward and a smile emerged on his face—­the kind that’s usually accompanied with an axe. “Do you think this sad little mageling can hold me? He’s growing weak already.”

  Brendan unfolded Caitlin from his arms, and she felt vulnerable as he moved to stand inches away from the edge of the circle.

  “Oh, he’s a fine wizard,” Brendan said. “Strength to spare. Don’t you worry, cuddles, when we’re done here, you’re all mi—­”

  “Justin, you and your kin are in violation of the Oaths,” Dante said, putting a hand on Edward’s shoulder.

  Edward took several short gasps and nodded.

  “You’ve no jurisdiction on me now, Magister.” Justin smiled at Caitlin.

  She wavered a little but didn’t look away; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Even so, he was clearly enjoying this, and it was getting to her.

  “You’re not in the Tír anymore, now are you, you mac mallachta?” Brendan asked. “That puts you back into his care.” He smiled and crossed his arms. “Ask your questions, then,” he said to Dante. “The sooner we get what we need, the sooner we get the girl back, and then Justin and I have a dance waiting.”

  Caitlin could see Edward struggling as Dante helped him to his feet. Edward glanced at her, and something changed in him. A look of focused determination solidified in his face. The self-­doubt, fear, and worry that had plagued him before were gone.

  Dante said something in Edward’s ear, but Caitlin couldn’t hear it. Edward’s jaw clenched and he stared unblinking at Justin, who returned his stare. The room filled with a new tension as Edward and Justin began their battle of wills.

  Caitlin’s heart began to pound.

  Edward’s bandaged hand started to shake, but he tightened it into a fist until it stopped.

  Hope welled up inside Caitlin. Edward was standing taller and straighter than she’d ever seen, and Justin was faltering. It was as if she was seeing Edward for the first time. Now the word wizard seemed fitting.

  Justin’s body began to shake with effort. Then he groaned and took a step back.

  Edward gritted his teeth and smiled. “Take that, jerk.”

  “Good,” Dante said. “First question: where is the stolen child, known as Fiona, who was taken from her mother’s home this night?” Dante covered his ears. “Use his name.”

  “Justarisheeth,” Edward said, and Justin winced. “Where is the stolen child, known as Fiona, who was taken from her mother’s home this night?”

  Justin gnashed his teeth. “No . . . I’ll . . . not . . . say,” he said between labored breaths.

  “Again!” Brendan said. “Use his name at the start and compel him at the end. Don’t ask, force him, the bastard!”

  “Justarisheeth, where is the stolen child, known as Fiona, who was taken from her mother’s home this night? Trwy dy enw, yr wyf yn eich gorfodi, Justarisheeth!”

  This time, Justin staggered as if he’d been punched, dropped to his knees, banged his fists on the invisible wall, and screamed. “She’s—­no!” Again, his claws dug into the barrier, dragged down, and once more blue scratches hung in the air before fading.

  “Again!” Brendan shouted.

  “Justarisheeth,” Edward repeated. “Where’s Fiona? Trwy dy enw, yr wyf yn eich gorfodi! Yr wyf yn eich gorfodi, Justarisheeth!”

  Justin’s body shook as his muscles tensed, and he screamed, longer than any mortal would ever have been able to. Caitlin covered her ears.

  “No!” Justin collapsed and writhed on the floor. “She’s—­” He convulsed and dug his claws into the stone. “She’s between shadow and light.” He screamed again and left deep gouges in the floor as his claws dragged across it.

  “What?” Brendan clenched his fists. “No. You’re lying. You wouldn’t.”

  Justin’s laugh was maniacal. He looked up at Brendan, still cackling. Small lines of black ooze ran out of his left ear and down his neck.

  Caitlin saw what looked like fear in Brendan’s eyes, and her heart turned to ice.

  “I’m compelled, díbeartach!” Justin said with the same madness that tinged his laughter. “She’s out of your reach!” He looked right at Caitlin and grinned. “And yours as well.”

  Caitlin took several steps back until she felt the wall behind her. She leaned against it as tears began to run down her face. “No, no, no.”

  Brendan grabbed Dante and turned him so they were face-­to-­face. “Your plan didn’t work,” he said once Dante had uncovered his ears.

  “What? What did he say?”

  “She’s in the Tír!” Brendan shouted.

  Dante’s eyes went wide. “What?”

  There was only a moment of confusion before Caitlin’s mind went back to the stories from her childhood. “Tír na nÓg? No!” she screamed, or thought she did. However, no sound came from her open mouth.

  Brendan bellowed and turned, arms reaching out for Justin.

  “Brendan, no!” Dante grabbed the big man, pulling him back. “Not yet!”

  “Get off me!” Brendan roared.

  Meanwhile, Edward was perfectly still. He appeared unmoved by what was unfolding around him, except for the slightest tremor and small trickle of blood that ran from his nose.

  Cold fear and hollow doubt were consuming Caitlin.

  It’s all gone wrong, so terribly wrong.

  Dante managed to pull Brendan back a few feet, then he stepped between him and the circle. “The wizard, don’t forget about the wizard!”

  Brendan seethed as he and Dante began shouting at each other in what Caitlin presumed was Irish.

  Justin’s black eyes locked onto Caitlin. She could feel his gaze burning through her and piercing her heart. It felt like he was violating her, delving into her very being.

  He smiled knowingly, and his lips moved as he spoke silently.

  Her heart stopped as she realized the truth. She’d lost Fiona.

  A strange sigil, drawn of green fire, appeared high above Justin’s head. As it did, the symbols of the circle shifted from blue to green.

  Edward’s eyes opened wide and he gasped as his body tensed, his hands began to shake, and sweat poured down his face.

  Caitlin tried to scream, move, or do anything, but her body wasn’t responding. Hopelessness weighed her down.

  The sigil flared and there was a pop in the air. A bolt of green fire leapt from the burning symbol and struck Edward in the chest. He cried out and fell backwards, hitting the floor.

  Caitlin’s heart stopped. “Eddy, no!”

  Dante and Brendan turned just in time to see Justin lunge at Brendan, claws first and mouth wide in a roar.

  Brendan shoved Dante to the ground and, as Justin collided with him, twisted and used the momentum to hurl Justin across the room. The oíche hit the wall and fell to the floor with a thump, but he rolled and was on his feet in less than a second.

  A second, apparently, was too slow.

  Before Caitlin could even gasp, Brendan, a large knife appearing in his hand from nowhere, was on Justin.

  “I’m going to make this hurt!” Brendan drove the knife into Justin’s midsection.

  Justin shrieked as lights and tendrils of darkness welled up from the wound and drifted away.

  Justin swiped at Brendan, but Brendan caught his small hand and twisted his wrist until a snapping sound echoed through the chamber and was drowned under Justin’s cries.

  “You’ve had this coming,” Brendan said as he slashed Justin’s face with the knife. Justin’s skin turned black and cracked at the edge of the cuts. Nearly invisible darkness wafted from the torn flesh. “And this is just the start!”

  “Brendan!�
� Dante shouted from Edward’s side. “Stop it, Brendan! Not yet!”

  “I’ve waited long enough,” Brendan said. There were flashes of silver as he cut Justin over and over.

  Caitlin could see Justin slipping away. Part of her screamed for Justin’s blood, to hear him shriek in pain. However, the larger part wanted her daughter back and knew her best chance was fading away right before her eyes.

  She looked from Brendan back to Edward, who still wasn’t moving. It was like standing on a hill and watching the whole world end. Then something broke inside her and she couldn’t just watch anymore.

  “No!” she screamed, and her muscles sprang to life. She grabbed onto Brendan and tried to pull him off Justin, but she might as well have been trying to move a tank.

  Justin’s howls of pain diminished and turned to choking laughter. His once beautiful face was now a black, dried mask. He looked every bit the monster. Unfortunately, he was a monster Caitlin needed.

  “She’s gone, díbeartach!” Justin laughed. “And you’ll never get her back!”

  Caitlin felt shaky, and her grip on Brendan grew weak as tears began to flow.

  But it wasn’t true. Justin was lying. He had to be. She’d know.

  “You’ve lost another one, díbeartach,” Justin said, between a mix of laughs and hacking coughs. He smiled at Caitlin, sharp teeth covered in black gore. “I hope you said good-­bye, Mommy. No one comes back.” He laughed and coughed again as his head rolled back.

  Caitlin let go of Brendan as Justin, and her last hope, vanished in a cloud of black and tiny white lights. The weight of everything, the enormity of it all and the stark reality of what was happening, chose that moment to crash into her like a tsunami. Tír na nÓg? Fiona might as well be on the moon.

  No, as long as Fiona was alive, there was hope. As long as Caitlin could still draw breath, there was hope.

  Wasn’t there?

  The possibilities ran through her head. She considered all the horrors her baby must be seeing, what these monsters might be doing to her. Caitlin gasped for air and leaned back until she felt the cold stone of the wall.