Before she settled in with Faolan, she was pulled aside by Drostan. He did not attempt to speak, he simply stood in front of her and offered his hands. Skye frowned slightly at the worry she could read in his expression. Without questioning him, she took his hands and opened herself to link with him.
You are worried, Skye, Drostan noted. Things trouble you… They trouble me as well. Is it safe to speak of such matters?
Skye understood his concerns about ‘speaking’ through their link. Would Sorcha be able to hear them? Skye summoned her magic to shield them both. She had used this trick before to prevent audible words from carrying. This time she was very clear in her need that NO ONE – celestial ancestor or otherwise – be able to hear their thoughts. She elected to keep the barrier hidden from view. Her clansmen would be aware of its presence, of course (the lack of sound would clue them in), but this way they could still keep an eye on her. She gave reassuring smiles to several of their clansmen in response to their curious glances.
It is safe to speak, she assured her Maker cautiously.
Brandubh… Drostan began, and even his thoughts were delicate and careful as a whisper. Something there is not quite right, is it? Brandubh is not what we were told to expect. And seeing him with Faolan – their dynamic – it feels strange. Do you sense it as well?
Yes, she reluctantly agreed.
Drostan sighed and nodded. I am reluctant to feel this way, of course. Skeptical and suspicious… but I do not feel any deception on his part. Do you?
Skye slowly, purposefully shook her head. I feel the same as you. I look at him and expect trickery. I expect the guise of sincerity… but I do not think it is a guise. At least, not here. She frowned and looked off into the distance thoughtfully. She hated to admit to herself that he had seemed genuine – if dark and twisted – in her own time, as well.
You are SURE that this link is shielded? Drostan pressed, drawing her attention back to him.
Skye checked over her work again, even going over it with an additional layer of protection to be safe.
I am certain, she reassured.
Good. Ciaran is Brandubh’s son – correct? Drostan asked bluntly.
Skye went rigid. Her eyes widened, and she nearly released his hands in surprise, but Drostan held tight.
Your reaction is answer enough, Drostan sighed. But please, do not worry. The secret goes no further than me, he insisted. I only ask because – when Brandubh arrived – my usual desire to protect Ciaran became nearly unbearable. I have long suspected Ciaran’s lineage, given his unique gifts and their remarkable resemblance. Most would not be aware of their physical similarities, but I am one of the very few in our clan to have seen Brandubh in battle and survived. I have never dared to put words to my suspicions. I am even careful how often I allow those thoughts to form, lest they somehow betray him. However, seeing Ciaran with you all but confirmed it. The way he responds to your magic. The way he absorbs it, is nourished by it, can act as its vessel and return it to you freely… It is in his very blood. I see now that he is destined to be yours.
All Skye could do was nod as her eyes glittered with unshed tears.
What are we going to do about our other concerns? he asked.
I do not know… Skye replied as she looked over at Faolan. My gut instincts are telling me to pursue it. To seek answers.
Drostan nodded. Then I would advise you to trust your instincts. If you need any help at all, you can come to me.
Skye took her place beside the fire with Faolan. She caught Ciaran’s eyes off in the distance in the crowd. She smiled and inclined her head to him upon seeing that he was hanging back, giving them time to speak. Taking his offer of privacy, she closed her link to him then. Ciaran sensed the change and nodded. She supposed she could also put up a barrier around her and Faolan to prevent their words from carrying, but she had no intentions of saying anything of real consequence aloud.
“What has happened between you and Taran?” Faolan asked around a mouthful of food. “He is looking a bit broken down. His words made it sound as though you harmed him – and were right to do so.” He quirked a brow at her and sucked his thumb clean, suppressing a smile as he asked playfully, “Should I be terribly angry with him?”
Skye laughed at the amusement dancing in his golden eyes. She shrugged as she let her eyes wander over the expansive, rowdy crowd of faoil gathered before them.
“No, no. No need to be angry, father. It was simply a lovers’ spat,” she offered nonchalantly.
Faolan’s eyes widened. He paused in his chewing and sat up straighter as he studied her in surprise. A grin slowly came to his lips. “Really? Is Taran to be your mate?”
Skye nodded. “Yes. He will be my mate and – by our union – King of the clan.”
“A fine choice,” Faolan commended. “I see great potential in him. I gather you have straightened him out in your time? Quashed his youthful arrogance and impetuosity?”
“It was quashed long before the day I arrived at his doorstep,” she laughed. She bit her lip and waited a long moment before saying, “I am in a Trinity with Taran… and Ciaran.” She watched as a storm of unspoken emotion raged in Faolan’s eyes and played out on his features. She waited for it to settle before adding carefully, “And, yes, in my time, you and Sorcha have revealed to me the full significance of my selections.” She gave him a meaningful look.
Faolan took a deep breath and set down the piece of meat he had been working on. He wiped his hands on a damp piece of cloth as he thought this over. After a moment, he asked quietly (and with wording that was every bit as careful as hers had been, given the potential to be overheard), “And has anything… come to pass on that matter by that point? Has the knowledge spread any further?”
Skye shook her head. “Nowhere that presents any risk… The only soul I have told is Taran in my time. Once I figure out how to get back home, and after I put down the wicked druids once and for all, I will decide how to… divulge that information to the affected individual.”
Faolan rubbed his beard and sighed. “Might be a mercy to never share it. But that is your decision to make now. Sorcha and I have done as we thought best to protect… the affected individual… from further pain. If it is your view that it should be revealed in your time, I wish only the best outcome for you.”
“Thank you,” Skye said and took his hand in hers. She leaned her head on his shoulder and continued studying the crowd, but her mind wandered elsewhere. She recalled again the jarring differences between Brandubh in her time and here, in the past. She thought back on everything she had observed in his eyes, expressions, body language, and the tones of his voice when he met with Faolan. She recalled everything he had said to her in the dream realm, whether intentionally or not. She replayed his plea in her mind:
‘…believe your instincts. Believe your power.
Open your eyes, girl. Open their eyes.
Let nah your foolish loyalty blind ya to the truth…’
It pissed her off to no end that his evil ass had been right. Her instincts were telling her something was very wrong. Now, what about her power? What did it have to say on the matter?
Tentatively, she tried to reach out to Faolan’s mind. She froze guiltily when he looked down at her curiously in reply.
“I feel you in here, child,” Faolan chuckled as he tapped a finger to his temple. “Just as I would feel Sorcha. Such immense power…” he marveled. “Tell me, what are you searching for?”
Skye had to think fast and come up with a reasonable, honest answer. She could not bring herself to lie to him flat-out. His love and adoration of her was far too pure and beautiful to tarnish with dishonesty. Omission of certain facts, however, she could deal with.
“Answers,” she said with a sad smile. She recalled giving that same response to Latharn when they had called for the Gathering. It seemed like a lifetime ago. “I am always seeking answers from you.” She idly twisted up a strand of her stiffened hair as she spoke. “That
– back there just now – was my first ever face-to-face encounter with Brandubh. He has caused the deaths of so many of my loved ones. The fògaraich murdered my entire mortal family.”
She chose to ignore that she had just verbally acknowledged the separation of blame. Brandubh had caused their deaths, but the fògaraich had committed the act.
“I am so sorry, dear Skye,” Faolan breathed remorsefully. He squeezed her hand where it remained joined with his own.
“Brandubh still pursues me in my time,” she continued. “Only he is different somehow. Darker. More unpredictable and twisted. And there is no truce to keep things civil. The war has resumed, and it rages. The first time Brandubh came for me, he…” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she forced herself to say, “…he killed Taran. Then he carried his body to our home, to our bed, and laid him out for me like a gift.” Her eyes welled up with tears at the memory. “That was the night of my Nasgadh. Finding Taran like that just... I changed right then. Transformed as I held his lifeless body and howled with grief.”
She had to pause for a moment to collect herself. The memory was still so fresh, she could feel the heat from the fire and smell the smoke. After a lot of calming breaths and throat clearing, she went on.
“Ciaran stood by my side that night, as always. He saved my life. He protected me from the fògarach army – and even from the ainmhidh – as I carried Taran’s body into the forest on instinct. I had no idea about our origins. I just felt the pull to Return. It was then that you and I first met, and you told me who I am. Sorcha used her power to bring Taran back to life… but the wound of his death? It’s still right here,” she assured with a hand over her heart. “In my timeline, it has only been a month since that loss and reunion. And here I am, separated from my King again.”
Skye did not notice the pained eyes watching her from the crowd, or the way Taran bowed his head in shame at what he was hearing.
“I know that I will be in Brandubh’s presence again before long,” Skye said, nodding to herself in acceptance of the inevitable. “I want to see what I am up against and try to fully understand his motives so that I can prepare. I do not want to fly blindly into battle. Out of our entire clan, you, Faolan, are the only one who might provide me with crucial insight into my enemy’s heart and mind.”
Faolan turned to face her fully without hesitation. “Then, please, do as you need, my child. I am at your disposal. Anything I can offer to help, it is yours.” He waited patiently with his golden eyes lovingly scanning her face.
Skye marveled over the platonic love she shared with this powerful, supernatural being. It always provided a safe harbor for her heart in the tempests of her life. Their bond was uncomplicated. Easy. Secure. Wordless at times. There was an instinctual devotion between them – likely stemming from the fact that he had been born a Wolf, and the Wolf in her blood was his very own offspring. She would kill and die for this man as easy as she breathed.
Skye smiled up at him adoringly as she turned toward him and took his other hand, preparing to delve into his memories. She struggled to keep that smile in place when she recalled Brandubh’s warning: “Mother shall be very angry if she hears of this.” She swallowed anxiously. She could sense the danger in what she was about to do, even if she was not certain of the cause. She knew that she needed to be exceedingly careful here. This ethereal being was her Wolf Father, but he did not belong to her. She was prying. Trespassing. Digging where she was never meant to dig.
Knowing this was the right path, regardless of the danger, she closed her eyes and pressed into her link to Faolan. She operated on instinct, using her power to encapsulate both of them, shielding them from outside view. She prayed that Sorcha would not become suspicious of her private connection to Faolan. She whispered into his mind, ‘Sitheag…’ and waited as his memories began to surface in response.
Sorcha was heavy with child…
Faolan was guarding over her…
The two were inseparable, in love…
Sitheag was born in the lake beneath the full moon…
Faolan was overjoyed and content…
The new parents fawned over their daughter…
Brandubh watched jealously…
Something felt strange about these memories. They were cold and empty – emotionless – as if even Faolan himself was watching these things happen to someone else in his own mind.
Skye continued sifting through the scenes, finding them precisely as they had once been described to her: Brandubh’s jealousy drove him to betray Sorcha and Faolan. He manipulated mortals until an army came to the forest trying to kill Sorcha. They stole Sitheag away. Faolan was wounded and lost consciousness. He awoke after Sorcha had healed him. Sorcha then cursed Brandubh and created the ainmhidh (the giant, nightmarish creatures that guarded over Sorcha’s forest in Skye’s time.)
Everything seemed to be in order. Nice and neatly packaged as expected… but it felt wrong.
Skye honestly did not know what she was even looking for. She had no idea what her gut instincts were picking up on – what the Wolf in her blood had caught scent of and wanted so desperately for her to see. She had almost given up the search when she found it. Just a little fragment of a memory. Barely more than a flash. Four seconds long at most. That was plenty long enough.
Faolan and Brandubh stood side by side…
Brandubh was cradling Sitheag gently in his arms…
He smiled and cooed down at the baby in delight…
His crystalline eyes shimmered joyfully…
He looked so full of life and light…
He wrapped an arm around Faolan’s shoulders
and kissed his brow as he congratulated him…
He called him ‘brother’ with genuine love…
“Whoa… wait, what?!” Skye cried in bewilderment as she opened her eyes, subconsciously switching to English to prevent her words from being understood.
What the hell had she just watched? It reminded her of when she was little, and her parents would record over VHS tapes. Sometimes little blips of the underlying footage would sneak in between recordings. She had just uncovered a tiny piece of the underlying footage – in this case, Faolan’s original memory – and its mere existence cast doubt upon the legitimacy of everything recorded over top of it.
The indisputable authenticity of what she had just found was like a punch to the gut. This was not some vision she found in Brandubh’s dream realm where it could have been fabricated and intentionally placed for her to stumble upon. This was not a nightmare implanted into her mind by the wicked druids seeking to manipulate her. This was truth, straight from the tap. This was inside of Faolan’s head where no one – other than Sorcha – could possibly have interfered.
The Brandubh she had just witnessed was not jealous – he was unabashedly joyous. He very clearly harbored no ill-will toward Faolan or baby Sitheag. It flat out did not fit the narrative. It called into question everything she thought she knew about Brandubh. Such a tiny memory, and yet it cut into the very root of the tale of the clan’s origins. All points stemming from that single moment began to wither and die.
Brandubh’s warning about Sorcha echoed in her mind:
‘…beneath all the pretty fairy tales she weaves…
She masks the truth, locks it away.
History is written by the victor…’
Skye felt like she was going to throw up as alarm and betrayal steadily grew within her. She had blindly trusted this woman – this Goddess. So, too, had the entire clan for four millennia by the time of her arrival. She should have known it was not so simple. Nothing is ever so clean-cut, black and white. God, and she was about to meet with Sorcha, too… How was she supposed to hide that she had seen this? And how could she find out what had really happened? She winced at the answer to that question.
“Are you all right, Skye? Did you find what you were searching for?” Faolan asked worriedly, oblivious to her earth-shattering discovery.
Skye no
dded in reply and whispered weakly, “Yes… I found it.”
As the celebration began to wind down, the mood shifted. Several clansmen joined Skye and Faolan by the fire to discuss her arrival and what needed to be done next.
Faolan tucked a strand of hair behind Skye’s ear as he studied her features. Skye smiled warmly and sat patiently through his review. Sadness tinged his golden eyes as he forced a smile for her. He sighed as he finally turned and addressed the men.
“As joyous as it is to have Skye here with us, and as profoundly reluctant as I am to let her go, this is not where – or rather, when – she belongs,” Faolan stated plainly. He rested a hand on her knee and shook her leg affectionately as he declared, “I have been informed that she must return to her own time.”
“Yes. Please. The sooner the better,” Skye agreed in a rush.
Several of her clansmen chuckled at her eagerness.
Ciaran was not among the ones laughing. She turned and gave him a reassuring smile when he sat down beside her and interlaced their fingers.
“Now that you can speak with us, perhaps we can get further clarification on what happened to you. The wicked druids captured you…?” Latharn prompted.
With ease this time, Skye relayed all that had happened – starting with the nightmares and ending with her arrival in the past. And hey, she did not even need to find a rock to play cave-painting Pictionary this time.
“That brings us up to now,” she said when she was finished. “I need to figure out how to get back to my time. To make matters worse, the wicked druids have restricted my approach. The spell they cast the other day trying to pull me back? I was able to break its ability to grab me and affect me while I am here, but the rest of the spell remains intact. When I struck back at them, I felt it. It is like… a funnel in time, a trap set up to capture and draw me in if I attempt to pass through any point later than this. Once I figure out how to jump forward, I will only be able to travel to the destination they selected – which is the time and place I left from. When I go home, I will be jumping straight back into their hands.”
Goddess Rising Page 37