Giant's Daughter

by Jennifer Allis Provost

  “Angus, if he did steal the crown, would have brought it to Bod. About Bod.” I took in the mangled metal in his hand, which was left of the vase, and decided to take a step back. “We think he is currently in Ireland.”

  “Ireland. It’s a lovely land, one I am quite fond of. Is Bod in hiding?”

  Maelgwyn’s calm demeanor was far more unsettling than his anger. “We saw a news report about some sacred stones being destroyed in Ireland. The stones were huge, and it stands to reason than only a giant could have done so.”

  “And Bod is a lunatic and a giant, so you naturally thought of him,” Maelgwyn deduced. He wasn’t wrong. “Whom were these stones sacred to?”

  “Crom Cruach.”

  “Oh. No matter. Crom’s followers died out centuries ago.”

  “Does Crom need followers?”

  “For strength, and power, yes,” he replied. “All of the old gods do.”

  “Forgive my asking, but do you have followers?”

  “A sound inquiry,” Maelgwyn said, a rare note of approval in his voice. “My strength is familial. Being that I, and my fathers before me, ruled the warm half of the year we derived our strength from the seasons.”

  “Much like how Beira, and now Anya, draw strength from the cold,” I surmised, and Maelgwyn nodded. “But Fionnlagh didn’t draw his power from the seasons, did he?”

  “No. It remains a mystery as to how he was able to create a court at all.”

  “Actually, we know how he did it. He was collecting souls and giving them to Crom in exchange for power.”

  If Maelgwyn was calm before, now he went still as a statue. “My little brother did what?”

  “The Wild Hunt,” I began. “We—Anya and I—have been doing a bit of investigating. We couldn’t figure out why Fionnlagh bothered with the hunt, since it was arduous and—”

  “What did he do with the souls?” Maelgwyn demanded.

  “He used them as payment to Crom,” I replied. “That’s where he got his power, all those eons ago, and that’s why he kept up the Wild Hunt. Every seven years he owes Crom a new batch of souls.”

  “How did you learn of this?”

  “One of the fuath told Anya. Angus was there when she learned of it.”

  “And you believe the fuath,” Maelgwyn began, then he paused. “Where would Fionn have obtained his first payment?”

  “The first batch of souls?” I spread my hands. “I don’t know. Maybe Anya can talk to the fuath again, and find out.”

  My words trailed off as Maelgwyn stalked out of the room and down the corridor like a man possessed. I raced to catch up to him; I had no idea where he was headed or what he was planning, but his anger had suddenly given way to something resembling desperation. A desperate man was capable of many things. A desperate Unseelie King even more so.

  Maelgwyn crossed the entire palace complex and the courtyard without raising his eyes or saying a word. He finally halted at the far end of the gardens in front of a stone mausoleum. He paused at the entrance, his head bowed, then he entered the mausoleum, Not knowing what else to do, I followed.

  The interior was meticulously clean, and the stone surfaces shone. There were many inscriptions carved into the marble walls, and while I couldn’t read them I didn’t have to. It was set up like a family crypt, and based on Maelgwyn’s actions that’s exactly what it was. Maelgwyn touched the inscriptions one by one, and dropped to his knees to touch the last, smallest memorial.

  “She was only a baby,” he said.

  “What was her name?”

  “Daisy.” He laughed softly. “She probably wouldn’t have kept that name, but it was her mother’s favorite flower. She loved daisies, and we loved our Daisy.”

  “She sounds beautiful.” I looked around the mausoleum. All of the memorials seemed to have the same amount of weathering, which means they were installed at about the same time. Either a lot of people had died at once, or the memorial had been built after the fact. “Are all of these memorials for your family?”

  “My children,” Maelgwyn replied. “After Bod beat me near to death, Fionnlagh hunted down and murdered every one of my children. I’d always assumed he was removing potential heirs to his new throne. Even so, I could never feel their essence. It was as if he had obliterated them from existence.”

  I sat heavily on a nearby stone bench. “That’s...that’s awful. I am so sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, Christopher. Be glad. You have finally solved a mystery. For Fionn to have entered into such an agreement with Crom the first payment of souls would have to have been richer than a standard installment, to sweeten the pot as it were. Crom wouldn’t have wanted mortal souls, not entirely. He would have wanted those who had some sort of power.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Fionn must have stolen my children’s souls and delivered them to Crom. It’s the only explanation as to why I’ve never found them. And now that I know where they are, I mean to get them back.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Anya

  MAELGYWN AND CHRISTOPHER found Mum and me sitting on the edge of the fountain, and proceeded to explain their wild new theory: Fionnlagh had offered the souls of Maelgwyn’s children to Crom, which was how he had initially obtained enough power to establish the Seelie Court.

  Maelgwyn’s children. My siblings. How my heart ached for those poor bairns I’d never known!

  Most of their theory was based in fact. Apparently Fionnlagh had done away with all of Maelgwyn’s children long ago... Though as Maelgwyn spoke I realized that he only assumed he knew what happened. He claimed to have searched for his missing children high and low, but to no avail. Gods below, with such a lack of information the children could be anywhere. They could even still be alive.

  But if they were alive, where have they been all this time? I glanced at Mum. Her uneasy face and tense posture told me that she too had concerns.

  I took a step toward Maelgwyn. “You’re certain the bairns are with Crom?”

  “They must be,” he said. “Once I regained my strength I searched everywhere for them. Everywhere! I found nothing, not even their bones. Not even the barest shred of their essences.” He grabbed my hands. “Now I know why. Now, I can save them!”

  He was gripping my hands so tightly I could feel my bones grind. “Maelgwyn. Father. What if they’re not with Crom?” I extricated one of my hands and placed it atop his. “What if they’re someplace else?”

  “They must be with Crom. I’ve looked everywhere...” He cupped my cheek with his hand. “Of course, you’re right. They may not be with him at all, and honestly that would be a blessing, too, in its own way. But I have to look. I need to keep looking for them.”

  I nodded. If I understood anything, it was the drive to protect my family. “Then look for them we shall.”

  “We’ll need help,” Mum said. “And a lot of it, if Crom is half the devil the stories have made him out to be.”

  “You think I can’t handle a weak entity with no followers?” Maelgwyn asked.

  “Consider what we know,” Mum began. “Fionnlagh grew to be more powerful than you, and Crom would have only given Fionn a portion of his power. Now that Crom’s been fed who knows how many souls all these eons, he could be capable of anything.”

  “Are we so sure he doesn’t have any followers?” Christopher asked. “Anya and I encountered a Greek deity who was rather powerful, and it turned out that she had followers even in present day America. If she can have followers two thousand years after she was popular, so can Crom.”

  “Power is like an addiction,” I said, remembering the trouble Demeter had caused in New York. “Once you have a taste, you want more. The fact that Crom kept demanding souls speaks to his lust for power, as well as Fionnlagh’s.”

  Christopher clapped his hands together. “Great, then we can start by finding Crom’s people. They probably congregate near the stones that Bod destroyed.”

  “If he destroyed them,” I adde
d. Perhaps it was the wee lass in me, but someone needed to think the best of Da.

  “Are you going to go door to door and ask people if they have heard of Crom?” Mum asked.

  “If people are holding gathering in Crom’s name, someone will have heard about them,” Christopher replied. “These days, when anything out of the ordinary happens it ends up on social media within a few days, or hours. It should be easy enough to run an internet search. I can handle that.”

  I nodded. “While you do that, I will locate Da and Angus.”

  AS IT TURNED OUT, LOCATING Da was rather easy. Mum merely closed her eyes, waited a few moments, and then rattled off Da’s exact location in Ireland. I wondered if she could instantly locate her children as well, or Maelgwyn. Based on Maelgwyn’s shocked face he’d had no idea Mum possessed such a skill.

  After Christopher left to make his way back to Glasgow, Maelgwyn and I blinked to Ireland. We found Da just where Mum said he would be, sitting on the bank of a river skipping stones across the water’s surface. I wondered if those stones were all that was left of the boulders he’d decimated earlier.

  “Da,” I called out as we approached him, He looked up and smiled at me, though it turned to a grimace when he noticed Maelgwyn behind me. “We heard that you’re breaking boulders across the countryside.”

  “Ah, well.” He tossed in the last of the stones and got to his feet. “Those won’t be the first or last set of bounders I’ve broken, eh?”

  “What do you know of my children?” Maelgwyn demanded.

  “Other than the one who should have been mine?” Da countered. “Nothing.”

  Maelgwyn’s eyes flashed. I stepped in front of him, and said to Da, “We think Crom Cruach may have them. Their souls, at least.”

  “Any why in the world would you think that?” Da asked.

  “Fionnlagh obtained the bulk of his power from Crom,” I explained. “We suspect that his first offering was Maelgwyn’s children.”

  “How would he get his hands on your—” Da began, then understanding lit his face. “Ah.”

  “Ah, indeed,” Maelgwyn said. “You left me too weak to care for myself or anyone else, and as a result my children were taken by my murderous brother.”

  Da shook his head. “I know nothing about any little ones, but while I was in the ground I heard whispers about Crom, and about his domain. I fear any souls given over to him may be lost for good.”

  Maelgwyn made a cutting motion with his hand. “I refuse to believe that. I must look for them,” he said, then he grabbed Da’s collar. Amazingly, Da let him. “Don’t you understand? I must see for myself.”

  “Aye, that I do,” Da said. “When I went after you I only wanted my wife back. I never meant for any harm to come to your family.”

  “I appreciate that, Bod,” Maelgwyn said. “I do know what it’s like to lose Beira. I can imagine how you must have hurt.”

  “Hurt I did, and hurt I do again. Still, my wounded pride isn’t the point, not any longer. I will help you find the little ones.”

  Maelgwyn released Da’s collar, then he grabbed his hands. “Thank you, Bod,” he said. “Thank you so very much.”

  As I watched the man who’d fathered me come to an agreement with the man who’d raised me, I felt contentment the like of which I’d never experienced before. I’d been so concerned with keeping the two of them away from each other, I hadn’t considered how wonderful it would be for them to work together.

  “Thank you, Da,” I said, and he looped his big arm around my neck. “We’ll need you for this.”

  “And I shall need my crown,” Maelgwyn said. “If you wouldn’t mind returning it.”

  “I ken nothing about a crown,” Da said. Maelgwyn and I both drew back.

  “You don’t have it?” Maelgwyn asked, while I said, “We thought Angus gave it to you.”

  “I haven’t seen Angus since before I drank all your whisky,” Da said. “Are you referring to the dahm coroin?” he asked, using the crown’s formal Irish moniker.

  “Yes,” Maelgwyn replied. “It’s gone missing from my home. We have reason to suspect your eldest stole it.”

  “Ah, well. That does sound like something Angus would do.” Da drew himself up and cracked his knuckles. “What say we deal with Crom first, then we’ll track down that boy of mine and see about getting your property returned safe and sound?”

  Maelgwyn nodded. “We have an accord. Where do we find this Crom?”

  “I FEEL A BIT FOOLISH about the first stone I destroyed,” Da said. We were standing at what was left of the roadside replica of Crom’s stone. “I came across this one first, and while it didn’t seem authentic I thought best to smash it anyway.”

  “Better safe than sorry, I suppose.” I nudged a few of the remaining pebbles with the toe of my boot. Shrines to powerful beings had a different feel about them, a sensation that changed even the soil they rested upon. There was certainly nothing special about this site. I had a feeling Da had smashed the stone solely for the sake of smashing it, which was a very giant thing to do.

  “What of the stone in the museum?” I asked. Since it was daylight and the museum was filled with innocent mortals, we were hesitant to enter the structure and possibly put them at risk. “Did it seem authentic?”

  “Most certainly, but the essence of him was old. Worn away, even.” Da’s gaze swept across the landscape. “I have no doubt that the stone in the museum was once the way to Crom, but that door’s long since closed.”

  “If memory serves, Crom’s altar was destroyed more than a thousand years ago,” Maelgwyn said. “Sacrifices were made to him on a nearby plain. Perhaps that is where the gateway to his world remains.”

  Maelgwyn set off, Da and I close behind. Since he seemed to know the way, I caught up to him and asked, “Are you from Ireland?”

  “From? No,” Maelgwyn replied. “But I am very familiar with the landscape. In my youth this region was mostly seafaring tribes, and when you have a sound vessel the distance across the water becomes less than the same distance across the land. Our islands have much shared history, and customs.”

  “So they do. What was it like, when you were young?”

  “The air was cleaner, for a start.”

  “Aye, that it was,” Da chimed in. “The mortals’ Industrial Revolution did nothing so much as pump dirt into the air.”

  “There was also less war,” Maelgwyn continued, “though battles then were bloodier, and victories celebrated in song and poem.”

  “And revels,” Da roared, clapping Maelgwyn on the back. “You can’t have forgotten the revels!”

  Maelgwyn narrowed his eyes at Da, but I saw the hint of a smile. “I do recall revels.”

  We reached a meadow Maelgwyn referred to as Magh Slécht, which rather appropriately meant “plain of the monument”. It was where Crom’s stone—the real one from the museum, not the roadside imposter—had once stood for many centuries before it had been dug up and carted off to a museum.

  “As I recall the stone was here,” Maelgwyn said, halting on a patch of grass that looked the same as all of the other grass. “It was destroyed by Ireland’s saint more than a millennia ago. That saint, now he had true power. With one blow he drove Crom out of Ireland and out of this dimension.”

  “Do we know which dimension he ended up in?” I asked.

  Maelgwyn shook his head. “I don’t, but I know who we can ask.” He closed his eyes, then he turned in a slow circle. “The disciples remain in place.”

  “Whose disciples?”

  “Crom’s, of course. While he was in power he employed a group of twelve to do his bidding, much how Fionn uses the fuath when he’d rather not dirty his hands. When the saint struck down Crom, the disciples sank into the earth, and there they have remained.”

  “You’re certain they’re still here?” I asked.

  “We shall know soon enough.” Eyes remaining closed, Maelgwyn extended his arms on either side. “Rise, and tell me where
your master lies.”

  Power coursed through the ground, along with a silent tremor that shook not the material world, but ether around us. Slowly, silently, a circle of twelve stones rose from the earth.

  Beneath, hummed the stones. Follow the water.

  “And now we ken the way,” Da said.

  “All they told us was to follow water,” I pointed out.

  “Aye, but after the saint destroyed the idol he went and founded a well, and I happen to know just where it lies.”

  MAELGWYN AND I FOLLOWED Da as he stomped across meadows and over hills until we reached a crumbling old graveyard. Sights such as this weren’t uncommon in this part of the world, what with many graveyards and their associated churches having long since lost their roofs, and, one would assume, their congregations. It was certainly what had happened here. But these places were frequently built upon places of old power—Karina liked to call them nemetons—and that power kept the stones and mortar of the walls intact despite being pummeled by the elements for scores or even hundreds of years. It was hard evidence that anyone who thumbed their nose at the older deities was woefully ignorant, and outright asking for trouble.

  Da pushed his way past the rusted gate and navigated around the monuments and stones toward the rear of the graveyard. That was where the holy well was located, the sunken entrance lined with smooth granite slabs. Next to the pool was a stairway that descended into what I assumed was a crypt, or perhaps a storage vault. No one had left offerings near the sacred waters in the recent past, though the steps that wound down into the earth next to the well were swept clean of debris.

  “Someone is caring for this site,” I said. I noticed a torch in a metal holder, with a flint set under a nearby overhang for igniting the pitch-soaked rags. “Perhaps a priest is still assigned to this area.”

  Maelgwyn removed the torch from its holder. It ignited in his hand. Nice to know we wouldn’t want for light while we explored the crypt. “Perhaps, indeed.” He pointed the torch so it illuminated the stairs. “They told us to go beneath.”