A Witch's Destiny

by Leigh Ann Edwards

Loud thunder rumbled and jagged bolts of lightning streaked across the dark sky in response to her pain, her fear, and her rage. The woman had her knife drawn and she quickly followed Killian up the steps, surely intent on killing him so her dark scheme could be carried through. Alainn held her bloodied hand toward the sky and called to the lightening. It responded. As the woman rounded the last steps where she was visible to Alainn’s eyes, the lightning struck her and forcefully threw her to the ground below.

  Alainn struggled to get to her even as she attempted to send magical healing to her own belly. The woman’s entire face was burned and blackened and her hair smoldered even now. Her eyes were wide open, but even they were seared and scorched. Her body was twisted and broken. Still, Alainn would take no chances, she sank to her knees and she drove her charmed anelace into the blackened heart of Ciara’s sister.

  Because of her dark affiliations and the strange circumstances of her birth Alainn wasn’t certain what it would take to actually kill the woman. She produced a fireball in her hands and set the entire body afire. Shylie stood beside her and watched.

  She breathed a momentary sigh of relief and then turned to see a circular dark cloud appear in the clearing near the ruins of the abbey. Alainn was soon filled with fear as she remained holding tight to the wound on her belly and she saw a coven of twelve witches appear before her eyes.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  In her damaged state and with much blood loss, Alainn’s powers were weakening. She wasn’t certain she could battle an entire coven of witches even in sturdy form, but she wouldn’t be capable of dealing with them now. They walked toward her with darkness in their eyes and sinister smiles upon their faces.

  “You have taken two of our own, and now you will join our coven or die this night!”

  Alainn began to back up all the while trying to determine what might be transpiring in the tower above. She began chanting a protection spell in hopes of warding the witches from the tower, but in her failing condition, it would be a pitiful attempt.

  “Shylie, you must help me. Summon Danhoul!”

  Alainn weakly leaned against the stone wall of the tower and with her hand she traced an arched portal, then with her amulet she traced the lines again and both she and Shylie whispered two names.

  “Danhoul… Lugh… come to us now!” It was Shylie who finished speaking the names for even speaking seemed to make the wound exude more blood. “If ever Alainn has needed her guardians, she needs them now!” Shylie finished.

  It took only a short while for the portal to begin to glow in an eerie bright light. Alainn’s relief was evident as the two guardians stepped through the portal almost immediately. Both held their weapons ready and they glanced at Alainn and then at the coven heading toward them.

  “Alainn,” Danhoul said, and she realized as the condition placed upon him as her supernatural guardian, he had been in certain pain alerting him to Alainn’s dire predicament. It was obvious it was lessening since he was near her once more. She saw concern in his eyes as he noticed the blood on her gown and on her hands. He sheathed his sword and stepped toward her, placing his hands on her belly. The light radiated from his hands and the wound began to heal.

  “It’s only a temporary healing for more time will be necessary to see it healed entirely.” He warned as he pulled his sword from his scabbard once more, knowing he must first deal with the coven.

  She nodded and, holding her hands up, she glanced toward his sword and then at Lugh’s sword and spear. Light poured from her hands and soon all weapons glowed brightly, charmed yet again with her powerful magic.

  “Damn, it would have to be evil bloody witches!” Lugh said as he charged toward the coven.

  “Go see to Killian,” Danhoul ordered as he stared up at the tower window and then set off with Lugh toward the evil females. Shylie followed Danhoul and Alainn was further relieved to know the spirit would assist him in any way she could.

  Alainn nodded and noticed the pain in her belly had lessened and the wound was no longer bleeding as severely. It still pained her to walk, but she held tight to the wound and began to make her way up the many winding steps. She attempted to use her magic to carry her up the stairs but in her failing condition it could not be accomplished. She stopped partway up the stairs to catch her breath, for she was overcome with weakness and blood loss. She listened for sounds coming from above. She could hear nothing and in her sorrowful heart she already knew the reason for the disturbing silence.

  *

  Even though the dagger wound was partially healed, Alainn was undeniably weakened and she was finding it too strenuous to walk up the steps in her light-headed, ailing condition. Once more, she called upon her powers and she slowly floated upward. When she nearly made it to the top of the stairs, she was heartsick to find Conner dead upon the steps, pierced through the heart, surely by Riley’s sword.

  It was likely Riley had startled him and though there had been swordplay, Conner would have been much distracted with Mary’s plight. It could have been Conner had attempted to talk reason to Riley and didn’t actually desire to battle with him or he wanted to make certain Mary did not witness the swordplay and took the battle beyond the chamber and to the stairs.

  Alainn needed to know what had happened within the tower, but when she walked up the remainder of the stairs and stepped inside, she wished she could go back to not knowing what harrowing tragedy had taken place in that tower chamber.

  Firstly, she was surely relieved that Killian was alive, but when her eyes met his, she saw they held a stricken quality.

  Mary lay lifeless upon the bed, her eyes wide open, but she bore dark angry bruises in the shape of handprints on her throat.

  Killian’s blade had run Riley through and the blood was pouring from his wound where he now lay on the stone floor. He roughly pulled the sword from him and Killian looked at his cousin with disgust and contempt as he moaned in agony and dying on the floor. Alainn stared accusingly at her deranged cousin.

  “They deserved this. She deserved this.” He proclaimed with no amount of remorse. “She betrayed me! You all betrayed me!”

  Alainn became filled with further enragement and she glared at her irredeemable cousin. She did not speak one word to him, but lifted her hands, and saw him thrown furiously beyond the tower window as she had predicted to fall to his death on the cobblestones below.

  “Dear God, Alainn, we couldn’t prevent any of this for all our efforts,” Killian said in anguish as he remained standing half way across the room.

  The tears poured down her face and she went to her dear friend who lay in unnatural stillness upon the provisional bed on the floor. She gently touched her cheeks and wept as she purposely closed Mary’s beautiful, dark brown eyes that had once been filled with such sparkle and life. She recalled the first time she’d seen Mary on the seaside in Galway. Mary had been a fine lady of position and Alainn was believed to be a servant. She’d been standing wet and bedraggled, cold and shivering on the beach, and Mary had offered her the kindness of her fine shawl to warm her. Later, even though Mary had been promised to Killian, when she learned Alainn and Killian were in love, she hadn’t been ungracious, but maintained their friendship… she had remained a kind and generous friend. She remembered the terrified look on Mary’s face when last she’d glanced at her, but how Conner had tenderly reassured her, and she’d smiled. She would choose to recall that moment, that endearing memory.

  “She wanted so very badly to see her son, to hold her son, Killian. You and I were at least allowed the blessing of gazing upon Cian and holding him,” she whispered as she held her eyes tightly closed in attempt to come to grips with this heart-wrenching tragedy.

  “Alainn,” Killian called out in urgency, “the babe still lives!”

  Alainn glanced down at the body of her friend and saw he was correct, there was indeed movement within her belly. She hastily pulled her anelace from her pocket and, in remembering how she had seen Margaret’s child born
by slicing open her belly, she did the same for Mary’s wee son. She worked swiftly and soon lifted him from his mother’s lifeless body. Killian came to her side to offer what assistance might be needed. They were both relieved when he immediately emitted a loud, strong cry and she placed him beside his mother as she cut and tied the life cord.

  Killian tore a large strip from Mary’s gown and passed it to Alainn. His eyes held much sorrow as he spoke.

  “I don’t know if it holds truth, but I have heard it said a new babe not only recognizes his mother’s voice, but his own mother’s scent, as well.”

  She nodded at his loving, thoughtful gesture and wrapped the newborn boy in the cloth. Holding tight to the child, she slowly sank to the floor where Killian joined her and they both held the small bundle and wept as they looked upon the innocent face of the parentless baby boy.

  “Perhaps I might go back in time to prevent this tragedy,” she whispered and she called upon her powers, but soon her wound profusely spewed and spurted blood.

  “Alainn, you must terminate the use of your powers now before you are dead as well!” He ordered in anguish.

  She thought back to the voyage to Scotland when she had brought the seagull back to life, and she briefly considered it. Could she bring Mary back, for her body was still warm? Could she attempt to bring them both back? But then she remembered Oonagh, how Glynnis in her grieving state had brought her daughter back to life, but she was an incomprehensibly depraved woman, now not dead, but not alive.

  She glanced at the lovely face of her friend Mary, remembered her vibrant beautiful soul, Conner’s integrity and bravery. She would never think to revive them if they might be anything less than the people they’d been before.

  As she held the baby in her arms, with Killian’s arm protectively around them, Alainn was equally saddened and comforted to see the spirits of Mary and Conner together and smiling down at them.

  “He will be named, Conner MacDonald O’Brien,” she whispered to the air and Killian knew to whom she spoke though he couldn’t yet see their new forms as spirits.

  As Alainn dared to glance at the tower’s window, envisioned Riley’s body below and thought of Mary and Conner now gone as well, her thoughts went to Danhoul and how strangely silent it was beyond that window, and she prayed they’d not lost another friend that night.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Mary and Conner were laid to rest side by side in Killian’s family’s graveyard not far from Alainn and Killian’s own wee son, Cian’s grave. Even though they were not blood kin, they had been well important to both of them. Some in Killian’s clan weren’t in favor of those with no blood connection or marital bond being laid in the clan’s long-honored cemetery, but, in the end, as chieftain, Killian had the final say.

  They had seen to it Ciara and Brannagh were buried in the village churchyard and they hoped the women would know some peace in death, and that one day when their mother Ooghna was found, she would rest beside them.

  As much as Killian and Alainn would have longed to raise Mary’s baby boy as their own, they knew Alainn would be called away soon enough, and neither desired to have a child made to live without a mother’s love.

  The baby boy had, indeed, been baptized Conner MacDonald O’Brien for his mother Mary MacDonald O’Brien and the man who had loved and protected her. No one seemed inclined to dispute the name Alainn and Killian had given the new baby boy even though only Riley’s surname had been included.

  The newborn was taken to be raised by Riley’s twin brother, Rory and his wife Brigid. Alainn and Killian were relieved the child would be reared by a kind and loving father and mother who boasted a happy marriage, and surely a loving family.

  It was learned Rory and Brigid had been blessed with a baby girl, Eileen Brigid, oddly enough born at precisely the same time as her new cousin, Conner. They were cousins who would be raised almost as twins. Alainn and Killian had asked only the child be told of his loving mother so her memory would be kept alive. They left it up to Rory’s wise discretion on what the child was told about Riley and Conner.

  Although only portions of that fateful night were revealed, even Hugh O’Brien had to admit his son had become an irrevocably unsalvageable man when he learned he’d become filled with such hostile rage he had killed the mother of his own child and that it hadn’t mattered he would be taking the child’s life as well.

  Alainn and Killian both knew Riley had been affected by the dark spell Brannagh had placed on him, and his mind was surely afflicted from the amount of drink he constantly consumed, but they also believed in his last moments he was coherent and acting of his own accord, spurred by long-standing resentment and jealous embitterment.

  Alainn and Killian despaired in Rory and their Aunt Siobhan’s deep grief in losing their brother and son, but Rory admitted he had long feared his twin brother had become entirely unreachable and irrefutably lost, and Siobhan was greatly comforted that Riley’s son would be raised in their castle, and she would have daily contact with him. She would be a doting grandmother to his boy child and to Rory’s daughter as well. She was also elated to be a mother to a daughter herself now. Ailish Shylie was two weeks old when Siobhan became a grandmother to two precious babes. Castle O’Brien would know many happy years with growing youngsters being raised within its walls once more. The recent memories of Riley were still too fresh and too painful for her to allow herself to think of the many happy times Alainn and Killian, Rory, and Riley had spent within those walls. She hoped one day she would be able to recall those memories with only fondness.

  While Killian and Alainn were at Castle O’Brien to take wee Conner to Rory and Brigid and for the grim task of seeing Riley’s body brought to the O’Brien graveyard, Alainn took comfort in an afternoon spent with her mother, Mara. She recalled the memory of that day.

  “My daughter, sorry I am for the loss of your dear friend, Mary. I know you loved her much, and my heart goes to you and your husband at the loss of your cousin also. I recognize he was once well important to you both.”

  “It is all so tragic, Mother… such a despairingly needless loss of young lives that might have held so much promise.”

  Mara held her tightly and then Alainn looked at her through her tears, and smiled.

  “I have unexpected joyful tidings as well, Mother. It is as I have always believed, my father still lives. I have met him, and spent time with him. Teige O’Rorke is truly as admirable and extraordinary as you have always claimed.”

  Mara’s unusual pale blue eyes had grown wider and wider with each word Alainn had spoken, and her mouth was now agape a well. She remained in such a state for a lengthy time causing Alainn to nudge her from her stunned astonishment.

  “Mother, you’re sure to swallow an insect if you don’t soon close your mouth.” She’d smiled and embraced her once more.

  Mara remained stock-still and her mind surely was filled with many considerations.

  “Well, say something, Mother. I understand you must be dumbstruck, but you’re causing me to fret.”

  She held up her hand and on it she wore a ring.

  “You’re married?” Alainn groaned. “You finally married Thomas?”

  “No, it is only a promise that I might agree to marry Thomas. He was insistent for the new blacksmith has been making eyes at me and Thomas thought he’d best make a move toward marriage before I made a move toward the blacksmith’s bed.”

  “Mother!” she said with some disapproval.

  “You did not seem to disfavor the fact I have been in Thomas’s bed.”

  “Because you share one man’s bed to escape loneliness does not indicate I would want you to become the village mare.”

  “I spent many, many years alone. As a healthy, young woman with natural desires and frequent urges I spent years cut off from life and from pleasure.”

  “So, in all the many years you lived in the stone close beyond the glade, you lived in celibacy?”

  “Well, I might
have found the odd young shepherd or farmer who didn’t know I was the infamous glade witch, or the occasional wanderer whom I beckoned to the glade.”

  “Mother!” Alainn said in distaste. “I do not care to be made aware of your promiscuity.”

  “Do not judge me, daughter. I spent five long, lonely years pining endlessly for your father before I allowed a single thought of need or passion to enter my mind. When I felt certain he wasn’t ever coming back and assumed he must truly be dead, on the rarest of occasions when I was fraught with desire, I sated the need.”

  Alainn simply nodded in understanding of the lonely, reclusive life her mother had led.

  “Tell me of your father! Where is the man, and if it is true he has been alive all this time, why, by God’s nails, has he not come in search of me through these years?”

  “Well, he was of the belief you were dead and I was never born. Through all these years he simply assumed it to be true.”

  “And now he knows of your existence, did you tell him I still live? Did he ask of me?”

  “Of course he inquired after you? He still loves you, it is plain to see.”

  “If that is truth, why then is he not here now to see of my well-being?”

  “It is impossible for him to come now for he is a searcher. He is away in the far-off future, trying to find a way to fight the evil of a horrendous god who lived thirteen hundred years ago.”

  “Even knowing of his druid connections and of his magical abilities, it sounds somewhat farfetched to me? Do you shelter me now? Has he another woman, another family… a life that prevents him from coming to me now?”

  “Mother, you always proclaimed you shared an undying love, why would you doubt that now?”

  “If it were reversed, I would be with him now,” she said in a wounded tone.

  “You would give up your lifelong purpose of battling evil, even knowing you would surely save hundreds, perhaps thousands of lives?”

  Her eyes narrowed at considering this and she contemplated for some time. “I would come to him even for a moment to see him, to tell him I love him and then, and only then, would I continue with whatever else I must do.”