Ghalien: A Novel of the Otherworld

by Johnson, Jenna Elizabeth

  "May I have this dance?"

  It wasn't so much the intrusion of the young woman's voice or the rude, audacious way she had butted into our private moment. No, it was the other voice that suddenly bloomed in my mind, one that had been the bane of my existence since the end of last spring, that yanked my attention away from Meghan.

  Accept her offer, Caedehn, the Morrigan's shil-sciar voice demanded, dance with the girl or you will live to regret this night.

  Fear raced through my blood and I was tempted to dart my eyes around the room. How could the Morrigan know such a precise detail? She had read my thoughts before, but the girl had just stepped up to us. She hadn't been nearby long enough for my mother to detect her through my own perception.

  Oh, I have my ways of discovering things, dear boy. Now, if you want me to remain where I am and not make an appearance at that buffoon's hovel and ruin his grand party, you had better comply with my wishes.

  Gritting my teeth, I decided to play nice. For now.

  Why must I dance?

  Because I want to get you away from that strayling. Her words were harsh and held the stain of irritation. Unless, of course, you wish for the girl to meet me once again tonight.

  No, I responded, I'll accept her offer.

  With deep regret, I pulled away from Meghan, hoping the fear I felt in my heart did not register on my face. The girl who had asked me to dance was small and blond, probably the daughter of a local farmer. I didn't even bother asking her name as she grabbed my hand and led me toward the dance floor. Her grip was tight and although she was strong for her size, the only reason she was able to move me at all was because of the Morrigan's threat.

  Have you managed the art of transforming your appearance? I sent to my mother, wondering if this young woman wasn't who she seemed.

  Oh no, dear boy. She is a mere simpleton with a weak mind and an even weaker heart, easily tempted into following her feeble whims. Of all the young women in here, she is the most ensorcelled by you. Well, except maybe your Faelorah, though I hate to admit her mind is like a fortress. It would have been such fun to manipulate her, but that is not my purpose here. I want you far away from the girl while I speak to you. The fewer the distractions, the better. So, your little friend here will have to suffice.

  Where are you? I growled, my glamour getting over its initial shock and rising to the surface once again. If I had to burst into my riastrad form to keep the Morrigan away from Meghan, then so be it.

  My mother was silent for awhile as the musicians struck up their instruments for a new song. The blond and I started going through the steps with all the others.

  Oh, not to worry, dear Caedehn! I am far, far away, nowhere near your precious Meghan. Though it really has been silly of you to keep bringing her to Eile and parading her around for all to see.

  I had not been parading her around, but there was no use in arguing with the Morrigan. I sidestepped and led my partner around to meet me on the opposite side before giving my mother a response.

  I don't believe you, but you pulled me away from her to speak so say your piece, so I can return to a more enjoyable evening with Meghan.

  The Morrigan's shil-sciar laughter was as welcome as a migraine.

  I only wish to extend my invitation once again, one you have heard, and turned down, many times before.

  What is the point? Why ask over and over again if I am never going to accept?

  Because I'm hoping one day you will, and because I'd hate to lose you.

  I chose not to reply to that. My mother was always full of fake regrets and empty threats.

  Since you do not ask, I will tell you. I offer you a truce.

  "Ha!"

  I hadn't realized I had barked the word out loud until my dance partner looked at me warily. I smiled my best smile and she blushed before turning into the next step.

  You will never offer me a truce, I sent, my internal voice harsh.

  Hear me out. I offer never to harm you, or Meghan, or her mortal family again if you agree to join my cause and help me rise to my rightful place as high queen.

  I nearly stopped moving and would have if my partner hadn't been holding on to me so tightly. The girl I danced with and the entire, cheery hall faded from my awareness as the internal struggle with my mother took up residence in my mind.

  So, you are after Danua's throne.

  Do not act as if you did not already know this.

  No, I wasn't too surprised. My mother had always coveted Danua's place among the Tuatha De, but she had never been able to gather enough glamour and supporters to defeat the current high queen. Should she manage to steal Meghan's magic and combine it with her own, she just might be able to pull it off.

  Think about it, Cade. You would be high prince and you could marry your precious little Faelorah, if you so wished. Though, I would hope by then you'd be over your little infatuation. The girl's resistance irritates me.

  I wanted to make some snide comment about Meghan having more sense than most, but my dance partner pulled me into a close embrace as the music changed, snapping me back to the present. I did my best not to snarl and push her away.

  So? What say you? Will you stop this childish disobedience once and for all?

  The music changed again and the blond girl blinked up at me, her tight grip loosening and her eyes losing a bit of their earlier sharpness. Good. The Morrigan was releasing her grip on the poor girl.

  Caedehn, I await a response. I cannot act until you answer me.

  Death, with the promise of a dismal afterlife, still would not convince me to bow to you, Morrigan.

  A long space of time filled with more music and dancing passed before my mother finally gave me a reply.

  You will regret your words, my boy.

  Doubtful, I sent, my irritation simmering just beneath my skin. I've never regretted my words to you, only their inability to physically harm you.

  I waited for her usual retort, but none ever came. Finally, after what must have been seven or eight dances, I came to a stop. As genteelly as possible, I thanked the girl for her time and escaped the dance floor, heading directly to where I had left Meghan. Something about the tone of my mother's final statement had my stomach feeling queasy and despite her promise of being far away, I did not want to be absent from Meghan's side for the rest of the night.

  When I reached the alcove I had shared with Meghan, I found her gone. My first response was panic, but shortly after, my common sense took over. Of course she was no longer there. She had probably found someone else to dance with. A surge of jealousy rushed through me, burning like acid. The idea of her pressed up against someone else left a bad taste in my mouth, but how could I complain when I had just spent the last half hour or more dancing with another girl? Forget the fact that the Morrigan had taken over her mind for most of that time, and that I hadn't enjoyed one second of it. If I were in Meghan's place I'd be halfway home by now. And that thought only encouraged the panic to return.

  Frantically, I cast my gaze around the great hall, but Meghan's black and white dress was nowhere to be found. I turned, determined to search the entire compound if need be, even if it meant tearing down the walls, but caught sight of my foster father walking down one of the side halls.

  "Dagda," I called out to him as I jogged to catch up, "have you seen Meghan?"

  The Tuatha De's blue eyes flashed silver, a sign that he was close to being in one of his rare, dangerous moods.

  My surprise took me back a step and I wondered what could have fouled his usual, genial humor this night.

  "Aye," he answered me, his voice harsher than usual, "I've just seen her."

  And what must be going through that head of yours to abandon her and choose another to dance with all the night through? his shil-sciar voice rasped against my mind.

  I flinched and gritted my teeth, the lethal magic in my blood rising, making my skin hot and my temper even hotter at this challenge. What a night this was turning out to be. Fi
rst, the Morrigan stepping in and disrupting what should have been an enjoyable evening, and now the Dagda accusing me of neglect. Growling, I fought against my unruly glamour until it settled down and promised to behave itself.

  Do you wish to explain yourself to me? The girl is young and knows nothing of our ways. Do you take pleasure in watching her break her heart over you as you enjoy the attentions of another?

  Gods of Eile Dagda, you know that's not true!

  Is it? Then why would you continue to dance with another for so many songs in a row?

  I clenched my jaw, irritated at my foster father's observations. What Meghan must be thinking right now . . .

  I was asked to dance and I accepted only because she was bewitched by the Morrigan.

  My foster father stared at me, but kept his arms crossed and lifted a brow. He nodded for me to go on.

  Sighing deeply, I pushed my hands through my hair, just barely resisting the temptation to tear it out in frustration. The hallway we stood in was darker than the dance hall and it was now empty of people. When I finally felt it was safe to speak aloud, my voice sounded raw. "When the girl asked me to dance, I had every intention of telling her to try her luck elsewhere. Only when the Morrigan spoke into my mind, did I comply."

  "What did she say to you?"

  I swallowed and rested my hands on my hips. "She wanted to talk with me, away from Meghan."

  The Dagda opened his mouth to speak, then stopped himself before finally saying, "She knows Meghan is here?"

  I nodded. "And that the girl was interested in asking me to dance. She used her to somehow see where I was and who I was with."

  My foster father let out a curse. "That takes powerful dark magic, Caedehn."

  "I know. That is why I'm looking for Meghan right now. We need to stay here, where it is safe."

  "Very well. I'll have my guard keep a look out for any of the Morrigan's minions. I left Meghan in my study."

  "What is she doing in your study?"

  "While you were busy dealing with your mother's unconventional method of communication, you left your poor girl vulnerable to an attack of another kind of vulture."

  I shot my eyes up to his and I could feel my irises flickering from one shade of green to another. If my glamour hadn't been ready for a fight earlier, it was now.

  "What do you mean?" I hissed.

  "That insolent whelp Drustan o’Ceallaigh cornered her and upset her rather thoroughly. He spoke ill of you and nearly gave away the truth regarding your heritage, then when Meghan tried to defend you by telling him about hers, he insulted her."

  Before I could stop it, a snarl escaped my throat. My magic surged and I could feel my muscles stretching, my bones on the verge of snapping. Of its own accord, my arm lashed out and my fist connected with the wall. The stone cracked and a flurry of dust fell to the floor. The Dagda grabbed my forearm, his face paling to white.

  "No, Caedehn, don't let it get a hold of you. I helped her to my study where she rested and we had a good talk. She is well now, I promise you."

  "Where is Drustan?" I bit out, struggling to get my riastrad back under control. Forget about the Morrigan. She was a distant threat, Drustan was here and another male, something my glamour was not at all comfortable with. I was ready to tear his limbs from his body. All I needed was for someone to point me in the right direction.

  The Dagda merely shook his head. "Leave him be, lad. Especially with the state you're in. He isn't pestering Meghan any longer and to cause a scene would only make the situation worse. And," he added, "there is a more dangerous threat, remember?"

  The sensible part of me reminded the part that wanted to rip Drustan to shreds that murder would do nothing to help improve my image in Meghan's eyes. Besides, I was determined never to let her see that side of me, the side I'd inherited from my father. And the Dagda was right. I had bigger things to worry about.

  "Go take a nice walk and let yourself cool off, then you can seek out Meghan," my foster father said, breaking into my thoughts.

  He placed a strong hand on my shoulder and the last remnants of the tension drained from my body. I nodded and without another word, turned on my heel and headed down the hallway, bypassing the raucous great room where the dancing and laughter continued on. Two of the Dagda's soldiers stood guard near the door, but they hardly noticed me as I stepped clear of the house and into the open air. A few men holding tankards and standing around a small bonfire acknowledged me as I eased past them, my long strides eating up the distance as I tried to clear my mind. Spotting a lone oak near the base of the neighboring hill, I took a deep breath of icy air and headed toward it. Once I reached the tree, I stretched out a hand and made contact. The rough bark against my fingertips felt comforting for some reason; something real and tangible and familiar on this tumultuous night. I released a heavy breath and flung my head back, regarding the bright stars that twinkled through the still-bare branches of the tree.

  Although the cool air helped to calm my magic, it did nothing to ease my mind. To distract myself from the anger and dread caused by my mother's most recent intrusion and Drustan's slight toward Meghan, I considered what the Dagda had told me. Had Meghan truly tried to defend me? Warmth spread through me, taking the edge off of the chill that seemed to surround my heart of late, but the feeling was soon replaced by guilt. If she did care enough to stand up for me, then it was undeserved. After all, I hadn't been honest with her about my bloodlines and as much as it galled me, Drustan had been right in warning her away. Too bad I'd been losing that argument with myself for well over five months now.

  The movement of a new shadow passing by the bonfire caught my attention. I knew that stride; the shape of that dark figure. And I was drawn to her like iron to a lodestone. So long I had fought that attraction, denied my heart its true desire. Had tried not to fall for Meghan Elam.

  But it is too late now, isn't it? You had several chances to stay away from her, but you chose to remain by her side, falling in love with the one Faelorehn woman you could never have.

  Not the Morrigan this time, but it might as well have been. Gritting my teeth, I pushed away from the tree and made my way toward the shadow that was Meghan. Curse my conscience. It might be right, I may never have my chance to be with Meghan, but I did have the rest of the night and I wasn't about to waste a minute of it.

  Will only hurt you more in the end . . .

  I quickened my pace. The sooner I got to Meghan and started talking, the sooner my inner voice would shut up.

  “They can be overwhelming if you haven’t learned how to deal with them,” I said once I was only a few feet away from her.

  She started in surprise, then turned to look at me, her expression unhappy.

  Releasing a tiny breath, she lowered her eyes ever so slightly and murmured, "I didn't display the best behavior in there myself."

  Another bolt of anger spiked through me and I had to fight to keep it from flaring too high once again.

  “Drustan o’Ceallaigh had no right to treat you in such a callous manner. If word got back to Danua . . .”

  "How did you know?" Meghan blurted.

  Ah. Maybe I should have kept that information to myself. Oh well, too late now. "The Dagda told me."

  That hint of embarrassment in her eyes changed and as she turned back to look at the stars, she grumbled, "My mother wouldn't care."

  For a fleeting second, I saw myself on equal terms with Meghan, the both of us belonging to a mother who cared little for our wishes. But that thought lasted less than a heartbeat. Meghan might have believed Danua despised her, but that wasn't true. She just hadn't had the chance to get to know her mother and I was certain that given the right amount of time, the two would rebuild their broken relationship. Unfortunately, this wasn't true for me and my mother. Not by a long shot. Tonight's incident proved as much. And it was only a matter of time before she did something drastic. Her final words from earlier that evening floated on the edge of my mind: You will regr
et your words, my boy.

  A cold shiver passed through me, but I was determined to leave all dark thoughts for later. I turned toward Meghan. She was facing away from me, but I could almost feel her sadness and worry. In that moment, I would have traded my immortality to pull her close and hold her, if it meant easing away her troubles.

  Instead, I placed my hands on her shoulders and said, “She cares Meghan, though she may not demonstrate it. Someday, she’ll be able to show you her true self. Until then, you’ll just have to believe you have people here who,” my words suddenly slammed to a halt. I had been about to say 'people here who love you', but with all the emotion running rampant tonight, I decided to play it safe. Ignoring the voice in my head calling me a coward, I finished up with, “people here who care for you.”

  Meghan stood still for a while and I was beginning to think she hadn't heard me when she said, her voice quiet and full of emotion, "How can you stand those people talking behind your back all the time and treating you with scorn?"

  I was surprised at her question, mainly because no one had ever asked me that before. My entire life I'd been the source of Otherworldly gossip and hatred. I couldn't remember a time in my existence when the people of Eile weren't whispering about me behind my back. Only Enorah and the Dagda truly loved me, and maybe a handful of others respected me. To have Meghan extend her compassion this way felt like seeing the sun's first rays after a month of rain.

  Eventually, I shrugged and answered as honestly as I could, "I learned to ignore them long ago."

  "And just how long does it take to get used to being an outcast?"

  "That all depends on the person. When you finally understand who you are, I mean really understand, their indifference won't bother you so much anymore. Trust me."

  We stood in the darkness a few minutes more, listening to the drunken laughter of my foster father's guests floating over from the great house.

  Remembering my mother's threats and my own trepidation of seeing her this night, I extended a hand out to Meghan. "I suggest we head back inside." And as I recalled the Dagda's words of advice earlier, I added, "Especially since I've managed to escape the claws of that little harpy."