“Wolf King, my Master sends word from Queen Sgitheanach,” the ancient said. “They plan to strike the barrier together with the rest of us in an attempt to bring it down for good. The Queen requests that your kind be ready to move swiftly. She is not sure how much damage she and Brandubh will incur in this effort. They may be left vulnerable out there. Depending upon our condition when it falls, my brethren and I may be unable to aid you at first.”
Taran’s jaw flexed as he fought back his overwhelming emotions. He nodded. His throat ached with all that he could not say. Hoarsely he managed, “Tell my Queen… to continue doing as she must… and we will be ready.”
When Brandubh relayed Taran’s words, Skye closed her eyes and smiled at his subtle reassurance.
‘…as she must…’
Taran was making it clear that he understood the reasons for her leaning on Brandubh. There was no anger or jealousy. Taran was a warrior – he fully appreciated the lack of options she had been presented with. He recognized that this was the only way she could survive and defeat her enemy so that they could be reunited. Even with all that was happening, Taran knew her heart, knew her worries, and was taking his one opportunity to pass a message to let her know he supported her.
God, she had missed her King’s levelheadedness.
“So, d’ya need a lift up there, or…?” Brandubh began. He trailed off as the forms of the Wolf and Goddess wavered in the distance like mirages, fading to white light before rushing back into the Woman. Skye’s appearance shifted again, back to the painted, armored warrior she had been when he arrived.
“Yes. I um…I don’t actually know how to fly in this form yet,” she admitted reluctantly as she peered up at him. She had a long way to go before she learned all the things the Goddess did so effortlessly.
Brandubh snorted at that, moving around behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Thoroughly appreciating the excuse to be in this position, he brought his mouth close to her ear. The smile was plain in his voice as he teased, “All this kissin’ and cuddlin’, pet… I dunno… People will talk.”
Skye rolled her eyes and scoffed.
Brandubh grinned as he leaned his head against hers, directing her gaze out toward the faoil fighting beyond the barrier. “Your King’s no doubt out there wantin’ to skin me alive right now. Do keep him on a leash once the barrier comes down, yeah? I’d nah want to scratch the paint on tha glorious, newly-revived physique of his.”
Skye huffed and grumbled, “Just shut up and go!”
Brandubh cackled and tightened his hold on her. “As ya wish, Queen. Hope you’re nah afraid of heights!”
He spread his massive wings and launched them skyward. Skye gasped and gripped his arms tightly, unexpectedly unnerved by the sensation of flying in this form. When the Goddess had moved independently, flight had felt completely different – exciting, freeing, and natural. Now, it was terrifying. The Woman and Wolf were of the very same mind that neither of them had any business being this high up in the air.
In response to her panic, Brandubh sent an intense wave of calming through their link. This time, Skye fought back her apprehension and opened herself to the soothing influence of his glamour. Although her instincts were to recoil from this magic (as it was generally used to drown a victim’s terror and make them compliant for feeding), Skye knew that Brandubh was not seeking to control her now. He was trying to help her – albeit in his own disturbing way. She needed to stay focused on what she was doing. She needed to ignore her fear. Their lives depended on it.
Skye looked up, struggling to keep her eyes open against the whipping wind long enough to see that the boundary was fast approaching. She closed her eyes and used her power instead to see and feel the barrier. She knew what she needed to do, but first, she needed to ensure Brandubh would not be killed in the attempt. She held on to Brandubh’s arms; felt his cold, flawless skin beneath her fingertips; and kept his form in mind as an extension of herself as she opened the floodgates of her power.
Brandubh let out a pained sound and held onto her as tightly as he could without causing her harm. He ducked his head and closed his eyes, turning his face away as she was lit from within.
Skye’s form was a blinding beacon, a shooting star racing up into the heavens. The barrier glowed in response to her approach. Teàrlach was doing his best to reinforce it against the impending attack. A second later, it flickered as the ancient fògaraich worked together to drain as much power from it as possible. Teàrlach’s furious shouts echoed across the hills and cliffs, but it was too late.
Skye and Brandubh connected with the top center of the barrier, shattering it once and for all. The world rocked with the force of its destruction. In large, flickering shards of failing power, the barrier fell from the point of impact downward, dissolving into the earth. With neither of them conscious to hold onto the other or attempt to slow their descent, Skye and Brandubh parted and plummeted in a wild freefall.
As the ancient fògaraich dropped to their knees, the faoil leapt over them in a fluid motion and flooded the combat zone. The ground trembled beneath their massive paws as they raced into battle. Taran’s roared command reverberated through the minds of every faoil:
FIND YOUR QUEEN.
DEFEND HER.
Somewhere far off in the distance, Skye and Brandubh each landed violently. Their bodies sustained countless injuries they could not afford as they arrived, separate and helpless, in the midst of their enemies.
41: Last Stand
Skye came to consciousness first, terrified when she opened her eyes and found Teàrlach already towering over her. She tried to scramble away, but her legs were broken and all-but useless. In her weakened state, her body was struggling to mend from the fall. She cried out as he reached down and gripped her by the throat with one massive hand and lifted her up into the air.
“You wretched, loathsome, little half breed!” Teàrlach snarled before backhanding her.
Skye wheezed and clawed at his hand, but he was applying far more pressure than past-Taran had in this scenario. Teàrlach had already decided to kill her.
“If I cannot have your power, I shall at least have the pleasure of tearing you apart,” Teàrlach spat. He raised an arm and extended his claws, preparing to slash her open in one powerful swipe.
A ferocious roar caused him to look to the side just in time to see Aodh in immense, faoil form sailing through the air, mid-leap, heading right for him. Through their link, Aodh had been able to find Skye with ease. As he plowed into Teàrlach like a freight train, she was released and fell to the ground clutching her throat.
Teàrlach wailed as Aodh mauled his arm and shoulder, seeking an opening so that he could attack the horns or at least rip out the sorcerer’s jugular. That would not prove fatal, but it was sure to slow the bastard down.
Skye fought to get to her feet, to help in some way. She whimpered in defeat when she found that there was no use. Her body was simply too broken.
Aodh let out a pained yelp as Teàrlach blasted him with power.
“Aodh!” Skye cried as he crumpled to the ground beside her and transformed back to his now bloodied, burnt, human form.
Despite the pain it caused, she dragged herself over his massive body, putting herself between him and Teàrlach. She bared teeth and growled fiercely in warning, desperately seeking enough power within her to split into three.
But it was hopeless. She just did not have it and there was no time to draw light from the full moon. Teàrlach was already too close. He took a step toward them, eyes glowing with rage and power.
Skye roared, preparing for the assault.
Black wings abruptly blocked her view.
She flinched in surprise as Brandubh and Teàrlach became a blur of violence. Eyes wide and tearful, she watched the two tearing into one another. She covered Aodh as best she could and drew power from the moon. She prayed for Brandubh to emerge victorious, or at least to hang in there as long as possible. She knew
her King and clansmen were close. They were racing from all sides to reach them.
It happened in the blink of an eye.
So fast, Taran had no time at all to react.
As he and the other faoil raced across the field of battle, ducking and leaping over enemies with the singular intent of finding Skye, one of the flying creatures recognized him – even in faol form – as Teàrlach’s most loathed enemy. Following its master’s command, the creature shrieked to alert its brethren. A swarm of flying beasts dove for him, eager to carry him off and tear him to pieces. Taran turned just in time to see their approach, to realize that to be caught by them would mean certain death…
Ruarachan leapt in front of him then, absorbing the impact and immediately suffering the consequences of interfering.
Taran roared helplessly as his second was carried off up into the sky, far beyond reach. The faoil surrounded Taran protectively but whimpered that they could do nothing to save their seized brother. The creatures were biting and ripping, feeding even as Ruarachan transformed back to human form. Taran was able to see his face for the briefest of seconds before it was blocked from view by the abominations.
“Siuthad! An-dràsta!” Ruarachan urged his King, and while the sound of his voice was completely lost in the chaos, Taran caught his last words. He saw the acceptance in Ruarachan’s eyes of his fate and the fiery determination of his final plea.
With grief rending his heart, Taran turned and raced on to honor that plea. Ruarachan had just given his life without a second’s hesitation so that he could go on, so that he could succeed in saving Skye. Taran refused to let his sacrifice be in vain.
He could see Skye up ahead. Could see Brandubh and Teàrlach locked in the heat of battle. He tried to decide the best approach. Then, a glint of familiar metal caught his eye in the path ahead…
An involuntary, mournful howl escaped Skye as she watched Teàrlach rip Brandubh’s splendid wings from his back. Tears rushed down her face and she sobbed in sympathy. She watched as his wings were cast aside as if they were nothing, and her heart fractured inside her chest for him.
Brandubh shrieked in response to the pain but did not stop. He continued fighting with a tenacity Teàrlach had clearly not anticipated. No matter what it cost him, Brandubh was determined to drive the sorcerer away for as long as possible.
Furious at how effective Brandubh was proving at keeping him from reaching Skye, Teàrlach screamed and unleashed another bolt of power, this time blasting Brandubh backward and sending him to the ground beside Skye and Aodh.
Skye wept as Brandubh clutched at her hand. He was in far too much pain to speak. Her eyes passed from him to Aodh. Her giant friend had yet to regain consciousness. With tears in her eyes, she pleaded in her mind that neither died for their efforts to defend her. Who was she to deserve such sacrifice? Her heritage did not merit others dying before her. She felt completely unworthy. Her body was glowing now, her power swelling up inside of her, but it was not enough yet. Not nearly enough. Still, she moved to shield the both of them, unwilling to allow them to suffer any more harm on her behalf.
Teàrlach snarled and skulked closer, a smug, fang-filled grin on his face thinking he would have her at last.
Without warning, Taran leapt over Skye and the others and brought his sword down with all his might. Teàrlach screeched in surprise and anguish as one of his horns was cleaved from the side of his head. A stream of dark power erupted from the wound, billowing skyward. He staggered backward, striking out at the King.
With wide, wild eyes, Taran ducked beneath Teàrlach’s flailing arms and kept himself directly in front of Skye and the others. He spun his long-lost sword in his hand, feeling the familiar weight of it. He had no idea where Skye could have come up with it, but – however she had accomplished it – he was eternally grateful she had. He knew this blade well. It was an old friend. It would bring him victory this day. He swung it expertly as he dodged Teàrlach’s clumsy swings, used it to loosen his muscles while he waited for an opening.
Teàrlach’s power continued to gush from his missing horn. He roared in fury and called for his creatures to aid him. Turning, he noticed for the first time the wall of faoil and fògaraich that had surrounded him, separating him from his creations. He could hear the battle going on just beyond, the shrieks as his creatures were torn apart by faoil.
“No more running, Teàrlach,” Taran said in a deadly, quiet voice. “No more hiding. No more monsters. No more harm. Not today. Today, at long last, you die.”
Eager to see this play out despite his injuries, Brandubh struggled to sit up. Seeing his struggle, Skye helped him. He watched with rapt attention, barely blinking for fear he might miss something.
Teàrlach launched forward at Taran, seeking to catch him off guard, but Taran had predicted his attack. He stepped to the side at the last possible second and brought his sword down again, severing Teàrlach’s remaining horn. More dark power poured from the new wound.
Teàrlach dropped to his knees, gaping up at Taran in disbelief that all of his planning had led to this.
Taran held the sorcerer’s gaze intensely, hatred burning in his eyes as he swung his sword one last time, severing Teàrlach’s head from his shoulders and sending it rolling across the ground.
Skye steadied Brandubh as he shuddered and exhaled heavily, as if a great weight had been lifted from him.
All of the darkness poured from Teàrlach’s body. The ground trembled. No longer tethered to their master, all at once, all around, all of the monsters collapsed. The mass of dark magic that had been sustaining their twisted lives abandoned them. It floated upward, collecting and forming a vast, glowing cloud before funneling down and rushing into Skye. It separated as it passed through her, filtering so that all of the white light remained within her and all of the darkness dissipated like smoke in the breeze.
Skye’s eyes glowed. Blood seeped back into her opened wounds as her body quickly mended. Light passed down her arms and through her hands where they rested on Aodh and Brandubh. She gazed down on them with great empathy. Such drastically different beings – yet both had been prepared to lay down their lives to protect her. She willed her power into them both, healing their wounds in time with her own.
Brandubh’s wings rapidly sprouted from his back, restored to their former splendor. Aodh’s eyes opened. He smiled as he gazed up at Skye in immense relief.
Brandubh stood first, helping Skye to her feet before turning to Taran and placing his hand on his shoulder. Taran gave him a hard, challenging look… but it softened when he saw the raw emotion in the undead man’s eyes.
“Thank you, Wolf King, for doing tha which I failed to so long ago,” Brandubh whispered with such sincerity, it caught Taran by surprise.
Taran nodded his head slowly, understanding that Teàrlach must have done something truly dreadful to Brandubh to have evoked such a response. He would have to consider that later, however, because Brandubh stepped aside then, and Taran’s eyes fell on the single most beautiful sight in all the world:
Skye, dressed in her fierce armor, painted in the ancient way, and smiling up at him adoringly.
Safe. Alive. Here.
Taran rushed forward and – as she leapt onto him – pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply. Skye melted into his kiss, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and holding on for dear life. They laughed and cried, overjoyed to be together again. Her armor bit into his bare flesh, drawing blood in several places, but he did not even notice.
“Thank the spirits… my wee one,” he sighed, so overjoyed he felt as though his heart might burst. He gazed down at her in awe, taking in the paint on skin, the symbol of the Triple Goddess on her brow. He shook his head in wonder over all that she was. He knew she had been through so much since last he held her, more than he could even begin to imagine, but words could wait. For now, he was content to have her in his arms. To feel that she was safe.
“My King,” she answered, grinning ear to
ear. “My home.” She never wanted to stop gazing up into his timeless, loving eyes. But in the sudden silence around them, she could clearly hear it in the distance…
Screaming.
She spun in the direction of the sound, her voice coming as that of the Goddess as she breathed, “My dark one.”
She squeezed Taran’s hand, urging him to follow, and took off running toward the sound of Ciaran’s cries. She paid no mind to the crowd that was following along behind her.
“Skye! Oh, thank God!” Aiyana called when she spotted her.
Miko looked up with wide eyes. He grinned when he spotted Skye charging toward them. “Mama–! Whoa, what the fuck are you wearing?” he asked in surprise.
“Long story! How is he?” Skye asked worriedly.
Miko shook his head. “Really bad. We don’t know what’s wrong or what to do.”
Aiyana clutched the cross around her neck, bringing it up to her lips and watching fretfully as Skye knelt beside Ciaran.
“He’s been like this ever since the light came out of him. Nothing we’ve done has helped him at all,” Aiyana said.
Skye took Ciaran’s hand in hers and gasped as she felt his entire body – every cell in his being – instantly reach toward her desperately, begging for relief. His screams turned to broken sobs in response to her touch. He pleaded in barely coherent words for her to just make it stop already – be it by giving him the light he needed, or by putting him out of his misery. She wept for him, for what he had endured, for ever having considered that he might be better off without her power. She swore then and there that she would never again allow him to feel this way.
Drostan reached over and caught Miko and Aiyana by their elbows, guiding them to step back. “Come away, whelps. I’ve a feelin’ Skye knows just how to help,” Drostan assured, smiling knowingly. His smile withered a second later when he saw Brandubh rapidly approaching wearing a puzzled expression.
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