Astray

by J F Rogers

  “No matter.” He jumped up. “It seems the guards wasted their efforts. How you got here is irrelevant, and the timing couldn’t be better. Tonight is the Gealach Lionadh.” He moved in front of me and stooped to gaze into my eyes, making him difficult to avoid. He lifted his hand to my face.

  I forced myself not to react to the frigid finger he trailed down my cheek.

  “Morrigan will not be angry long. How happy my mistress will be when I kill you in her presence, in the presence of all the fasgadair in attendance.” His fingers moved down to my neck and lingered. “So warm, so tender. How I will savor the sweet moment when I sink my teeth into that supple skin and drain your blood before the entire assembly.” He licked his lips, his words a whisper. “How luscious your blood will taste.”

  He straightened and paced about the room. “Tonight, the hopes of the fasgadair will be reborn, all threats against me abolished. What a celebration this will be.” He grinned back toward me.

  A twinge of fear penetrated my resolve. I pushed it away. Whatever happened tonight, though I had no idea how, the prophecy would come true, even though it meant my death.

  “Unless…” Aodan’s tone became thoughtful. “You reconsidered my offer?”

  I remained immobile, barely breathing.

  “Immortality. Power. Control. You have gifts, Fallon.” He cycled me and placed his hands on my shoulders. I lowered myself away from his touch. He grasped my shoulders harder, crouched down, and whispered in my ear, “A pity to waste them.”

  He released me, stood, and resumed pacing. He brought a finger to his lips and scrunched his eyes as if deep in thought. “I could release your mother.”

  My eyes flew to his. It had to be a trick. He wouldn’t release her, would he? The one serious mistake I’d made, the one thing I regretted missing—leverage.

  “Ah. That caught your attention, did it?” His eyes flashed. “You would like me to release her?”

  For this, I dared break silence. “Yes.”

  “What price would you pay for such a gift?”

  “I have nothing.”

  “But you do. You have something quite valuable.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I would release your mother and all the gachen locked up with her.”

  “In exchange for…?” I asked, growing tired of him.

  “For your life.”

  My hopes deflated, and my gaze returned to the spider-web cracks in the wall. What game was he playing? I already planned on giving it as he intended to take it.

  “I could make you powerful, Fallon. You could live forever. All you would need to do is become a fasgadair, like me…to bow before me as your king.”

  I hadn’t considered the possibility of joining them. Nor would I. “Clearly you don’t know me very well. That’s not even slightly tempting,” I spat, though it wasn’t entirely true. The old me might’ve cared for those things. But I wasn’t the same person who’d arrived in Ariboslia just months before. I didn’t need the control I’d once needed. I had the love I craved. I cared nothing for power. I would do anything to avoid an eternity of damnation. Nor would I ever submit to him as my king. But the release of my mother and the others…

  By accepting his offer, I would ensure their release, assuming he kept his word. At least I’d be alive, or…in some sort of conscious state…to see their freedom and know it was done. How could I come all this way, hand myself over to Aodan, and leave my mother and the others as captives? How could I leave Aodan in power when my purpose was to bring about the end of his rule? Now that I was here, in his presence, the concept seemed more ridiculous than ever.

  But what about God? Could I take this into my hands and turn my back on Him?

  But what if this was His plan? What if I was supposed to sacrifice my soul? As a fasgadair with a mind-link to Aodan, I’d have a better chance of destroying him. Wouldn’t I?

  “Oh, come now.” Aodan’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Would it be all that bad? Living forever with others under your control?”

  I returned to my stoic state.

  “Or I could torture her. Like this…”

  An uncomfortable prickling sensation made the skin on my arm itch. Then it burned. Horror filled my veins as the hairs flamed into tiny little fires. I smacked them out with my hand, but they flared up again.

  Aodan cackled manically, and they stopped. The stench of burned hair filled my nose. What hairs remained had frizzled and blackened.

  I wanted to smack the arrogant smirk off his face. I stared at his head, anger burning inside me.

  His sandy brown hair burst into red and orange flames. The smile disappeared. He howled in agony as he smacked himself to put out the fire. Small clumps of scorched hair remained. The rest of his head was bald and charred.

  He rushed me, cinched my neck in his vice-grip, and squeezed. Gurgling sounds escaped as I struggled to breathe. I grabbed his hand to pry him off. He was too strong. I stared at the tendons protruding from his neck. My vision grew blurry.

  Not like this, God. Please don’t let me die like this.

  Aodan released me, and I took in lungs full of air. My hands rose to my burning throat as I glared at him.

  “Never try that again, or the hairs on your arm will not be the only thing to catch fire. Besides…” He brushed the dead hair off his head. His skin whitened as new growth sprouted to the exact length it had been. He swept the fallen strands from his shoulders. His rage subsided, he smiled. “It’s useless.” He dropped before me again and touched my singed arm. “Somehow, I don’t think you would fare so well. Not in your present state.”

  I pulled away.

  “But I’m impressed. I thought Cataleen and I were the only ones with the ability to start fires with our minds. But there’s the mink-link. Why shouldn’t you have our other gift as well? You are her daughter after all. Imagine what a team we would make! With our abilities, nothing could stop us.” He let out a high-pitched, girly giggle unbecoming of a villain.

  “Why didn’t you pair up with your sister?”

  He pinched his eyebrows together. “Cataleen? She’s too…too…good.”

  “What makes you think I’m not?”

  A slow smile spread over his face. “Cataleen would never have set my head on fire.”

  I swallowed.

  He stood, ran his fingers through his new locks, and dreamed aloud about a world with us ruling. As he blathered, he diminished his power. In all the books I’d read and movies I’d seen, villains shared a fatal flaw—their need to disclose every intricate detail of their evil plan as though to impress us with their genius. Or perhaps he hoped his irrational dreams would somehow infect me. If villains followed through without talking so much, they might be more successful. As it was, they gave their victim ample time to devise an escape. But Aodan needn’t concern himself. No such schemes brewed in my mind.

  God, I sure wish You’d let me in on Your plan.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  ◊◊◊

  “THIS IS YOUR LAST chance to change your mind. I can give you immortality.” Aodan secured my hands behind my back. “Or you will die today.”

  For the first time in my life, puking seemed like a good idea, if only to release the pressure in my gut. What was I doing? Part of me wished my friends would come storming in to rescue me. Another portion wanted to accept Aodan’s offer and free my mother. I tried to force those thoughts away, focusing instead on my God.

  But doubt seeped in. What if I’d been tricked? What if I had failed a test? Hadn’t I already taken things into my own hands by abandoning my friends and coming here alone? They told me not to listen to Le’Corenci. I’d believed the words of one of those demonic beings and a silly dream over my friends—believers. Then Ryann died. Because of me. My choices. I had no way to rescue my mother. Were those parts of God’s plan or proof of my error? And I had trusted Wolf. What if he’d been using me all along just to get me
to this point? To die?

  I had to stop torturing myself. Right or wrong, nothing could change the choices I’d made. It was too late.

  As of this moment, I already had immortality, maybe not in this life, but who’d want to stay here, with Aodan and his irrational mood swings, for eternity? And who knew how long he actually had to rule here, to treat this world as his personal playground. There were only two places people went for all of eternity. I’d choose paradise. To forever be with my Creator…Love. He could have the absence of all that is good, permanent torture. Not me. No thanks.

  And who was I to take these matters into my own hands anyway? God had a plan. I didn’t understand it, but He had one. I would trust Him. I would entrust my mother and the other captives with Him too. They were better off in His hands than mine any day.

  “If it is God’s plan, I will be with Him today.” The binding kept my hands from shaking. But my voice wavered.

  God, I hope I did the right thing. Give me strength…Give me strength.

  Aodan growled. “Stubborn child.” He shoved me toward the double doors, which opened as if on cue.

  My knee banged against the hard stone, sending shooting pain up my leg that had never been right since I’d hurt it upon arriving in Ariboslia.

  The two guards reappeared. They stood at the same height. In their cloaks, with all but their faces covered, only their blue eyes differed. The blueness of one was dull, while the other shone bright—sharp.

  Aodan turned his gaze to his minions. “Take her to the bloigh rùm. Make sure she is not seen.” A crooked smile crept over his face. “I want her appearance to be a surprise.”

  “We shall use the secret passages,” the bright-eyed one said.

  “Very well, De’Rahn. But be sure no one witnesses you walking through stone.”

  “We will take care, my lord.” De’Rahn bowed his head.

  Aodan materialized in front of De’Rahn. I turned back to where he’d been standing, then to where his body now appeared. How had he done that? I hadn’t seen him move.

  Again, faster than my eye could perceive, Aodan cinched De’Rahn’s neck in his hands. “You do not like fire, do you?”

  De’Rahn’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. Still, no whites appeared—as if the entire eye was blue. Freaky. He gurgled an unintelligible response.

  “Morrigan almost saw you once before, remember? If she learns of the passages through your carelessness, I will ensure you spend an eternity recovering from burns. Am I understood?”

  De’Rahn managed a weak nod in Aodan’s firm grasp. His mouth was wide like a fish out of water, desperate for air, struggling in silence.

  “Good. Do not fail me. Go.” Aodan released his grip.

  De’Rahn’s hand flew to his throat as he gasped for air.

  I cringed at the red welts my demonic uncle’s fingers left behind.

  The guards bowed, though De’Rahn kept hateful eyes on Aodan as he dipped his head. The red, warped skin on his neck regenerated to its former pale, smooth surface. Both guards grasped me by an upper arm, lifting me off the ground.

  As their painful grips cut off the circulation, my fingers went numb. I flinched as we ploughed through seemingly impenetrable stone.

  After emerging from a moment of darkness, they continued without pause. The dimly lit maze of halls and stairs passed in a blur, only the bloodsuckers latched onto my arms remained in focus.

  “One of these days, Be’Norr.” De’Rahn coughed. “One of these days, I will have his head on a platter.”

  “Hush, brother. Be careful what you say in front of the girl.”

  “Oh, come now. Even Aodan doesn’t understand Cianese.” De’Rahn slowed for a moment.

  I pretended to be clueless as he scrutinized me. They weren’t aware of Drochaid’s abilities? De’Rahn nodded, seemingly satisfied. “She doesn’t know our language.”

  They resumed their fast pace.

  “Don’t be foolish.” Be’Norr continued the conversation. “Someday we’ll escape. Until then, we must do as Aodan wishes.”

  “I want more than my freedom.” Pure hatred laced De’Rahn’s words. “I want vengeance.”

  Another wall appeared before us. They stopped. De’Rahn tipped his head toward Be’Norr. “I’ll hold the girl. Inspect the hall.”

  Be’Norr poked his head through the rock and back. “All is clear.”

  So they pushed me through and carried on as before, slowing upon arriving at a room full of cloaked monsters. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, forming a wall, turning their pale faces in our direction as my guards pushed our way through. Those who noticed me cocked their heads listlessly to one side. Their enlarged pupils roamed to my neck, resting on Drochaid. The phlegmatic expressions on their faces remained unchanged.

  “Let us through or Aodan will have your heads!” De’Rahn waved his arms.

  The fiends turned their attention to De’Rahn. Some flinched, but they all parted like a vile Red Sea. I passed countless veiled bodies with ghastly, waxen faces, leering at me. Some licked their lips, making me shudder more visibly. My stomach lurched. This was what hell must be like. All it was missing was a bit of fire.

  But no. God was still here. Even here. With me. True hell won’t have His presence at all.

  God, help me. Get me out of here…away from these wicked beasts.

  De’Rahn and Be’Norr led me through the sickening bloodsuckers, to one of the balconies like the one where I’d been discovered. They didn’t bring me to the opening, but remained a few feet back. The crowd was thin enough here that, despite the dim lighting and the cloaks blocking my way, I could see past them to the lower room and balconies—in the sea of cloaks the faces appeared as disembodied heads floating on its surface.

  For a group of such a considerable size, everything was eerily quiet. None spoke. Swishing cloaks and the blood rushing past my ears was all I heard. And that smell. The electric smell permeated the place. I gagged on it.

  I focused on the chandelier, trying to ignore the smirks around me.

  Give me strength, God…Give me strength.

  An eerie flute sound filled the hall. Bagpipe-like blows joined in followed by stringed instruments. Drums accompanied the creepy melody, giving it a more tribal quality. Finally the cloaked clones began to chant. The haunting music created a cross between the Celtic CDs Bumpah listened to, Gregorian Chants, and Godsmack.

  The chanting rose—every voice in the hall and the balconies in perfect timing with one another. It surrounded me. Something about it made every muscle in my body twitch. I squirmed, desperately wishing to escape this demonic ritual.

  Bumpah, if the worst happens today, we’ll be together soon.

  Aodan appeared on the balcony with a woman on his arm. They were only two besides myself without a cloak. Neither was chanting, but the chanters surrounding them cleared a path without missing a word.

  The attractive woman’s lustrous black hair sparkled in the candlelight. Her small, feminine features were what most women craved. From afar, with her eyes barely visible and partially closed, she looked like a model. But upon closer inspection, she appeared as old as time, despite no physical signs of aging. She carried herself as if time didn’t matter and she hurried for nothing. And the light vanished in her completely black eyes.

  Morrigan stood before me.

  I shivered as every hair on my body raised, alert. Before me stood evil in its purest form. Even Aodan didn’t fill me with such cold dread—draining my body of any joy from a mere look.

  Her head moved in a strange jerky motion. Her intense, animal-like eyes roamed slower than a slug down my body and narrowed when they returned to my face. Her dainty nostrils flared.

  If pure evil were a perfume she was bathed in it. It secreted from her like pheromones only I seemed to pick up. I almost wished myself dead rather than within such a close proximity.

  Cheers replaced the chanting. The music stoppe
d as cries rose from those who witnessed their approach and grew to a mighty tumult when more turned their way. The rulers brushed past us to the window and stood before the crowd on the balcony, soaking in the applause.

  When the cacophony showed signs of dying down, Aodan raised his hands. The moment his hands reached the sky, the candles in the chandelier burst into flames. One by one along the walls, more candles lit. Light flooded the auditorium as the crowd renewed their applause, reaching a new high.

  Aodan lowered his hands. Once the audience quieted down, he addressed them. “My fellow fasgadair!” The clamor revived. Aodan straightened, a smile of pure ecstasy curving his face. He signaled for silence once more. “I have the most spectacular news! We have more reason to celebrate this Gealach Lionadh. I have in my possession, from the human realm, my own dear sister’s child. The long-awaited Fallon!”

  The crowd hollered, shaking triumphant fists. And I was the object of their mocking derision.

  “Fallon.” Aodan summoned me forth as the cheering subsided, and the guards released me, shoving me to the railing between Aodan and Morrigan, refueling the audience’s frenzy. “Fasgadair will speak of this night for centuries to come.” He projected his voice over the din. “Tonight we crush the hopes of the gachen forever—all of Ariboslia will be ours!”

  Aodan waited, sliding his words into breaks during the tumult. “Tonight, the lies of the false prophecy come to an end. Tonight Fallon dies!” His face contorted, revealing needlelike fangs. He took his time leaning over me as if savoring the moment.

  Silence reigned. Not one dared breathe.

  His frosty fingers swept my hair away from my shoulder. He sank closer. His hair tickled my ear. I fought the temptation to scratch or puke. A soft breath, loud in my ear, warmed my neck, and an overwhelming calm swept over me. The sharp points of his teeth rested above my collar. Before they penetrated my neck, I said, “I forgive you.”

  I meant it. I didn’t understand everything. I didn’t need to. I only knew what I must do, and I did it. I barely noticed the tips of his teeth sinking into my skin or the rush of blood escaping my body as he sucked. I felt love—undeniable love for this creature in the process of killing me.