by Sumida,Amy
“You told Atlantis that my father was a violent rapist?” Trevor growled.
“Not I personally,” Re took another deep breath. “It was a long time ago, Trevor. I wish I could redo a lot of things. But in the end, your father was better off leaving Atlantis. He may not have lived if he hadn't.”
“He was hunted like an animal,” Trevor snarled. “We all were. If Odin hadn't given us a home, a pantheon to be a part of, if he had not taught us to use the magic instead of reject it...”
Trevor looked over to Odin as if he'd just then realized how much Odin had done for the Froekn, despite the lies he had surely been told. Odin had helped the Froekn become a family, and now their crown prince was his family. Just another chord in that symphony we were playing.
“It was my honor,” Odin nodded regally to Trevor. “Your father is a fine man. I never believed the lies about him.”
“Was Fenrir hunted because of these accusations?” I asked Re as Nuada continued to regard us all pensively.
“Yes,” Re whispered. “None but the High Council knew the truth.”
“None but the High Council and those who truly knew Fenrir,” Odin corrected. “I never understood why any of Fenrir's friends would believe the Council. When Fenrir was driven away, I began preparing for the worst.”
“You mean your boat?” I asked Odin, my mind boggling over all the twists. “Are you saying that you were able to save so many people because you had that boat ready and waiting, just in case something terrible to happen to Atlantis?”
“Yes. I even had a plan for us, what we would do and where we would go.”
“That's why you were able to get us moving so quickly,” Thor gaped at his father.
“And after I had us established with the Norse,” Odin nodded, “I sent for Fenrir. I figured the least I could do, was offer him a new home. His investigations and consequent persecution had made me more vigilant. He helped to save my family.”
“I never knew Fenrir was a hero,” I whispered in awe.
“So Tyr...” Trevor looked back to Re.
“Was acting under the assumption that your father was a vicious criminal,” Re confirmed. “A sexual sadist.”
“Has Tyr ever been told the truth?” I was horrified.
“No, I don't think he has,” Re grimaced. “If you wish it, I shall tell him personally.”
“Fenrir bit off Tyr's hand,” I whispered in horror. “Re...” I shook my head at the damage he'd done.
“What I wish is for you to tell all of the gods the truth,” Trevor stood and glowered down at Re. “Tell them how you lied to be rid of a man who could have saved Atlantis!”
“Okay, okay,” I got up and slid my arms around Trevor. “I know, Honey-Eyes. I'm furious too, but Re didn't act alone, and he deeply regrets everything he did. He lost his wife that day.”
“I do regret it. More than you will ever know,” Re stood and stared solemnly at Trevor. “I am humbly sorry for the hurt I've caused your family. Please forgive me, VéulfR Fenrirson. I will call upon Hermes, and have him announce my deception and your father's innocence to all of the gods. You have my word.”
Trevor trembled with rage, but under that earnest golden stare it was difficult for any man to stand firm in his anger. My wolf prince finally breathed deep, his shoulders relaxing, and nodded crisply to Re before resuming his seat. I was left standing there, staring at my boyfriend with sad eyes.
“Must I ask for your forgiveness too, Lala?” Re whispered.
“No,” I said sadly. “You didn't wrong me, and you don't owe me an apology. Plus, I think you've paid a horrible price already. It's just stings a bit, knowing what you did.”
“You knew I had done horrible things in Atlantis,” he carefully placed a hand to my shoulder.
“Yeah, but I didn't know one of those horrible things had been done to a man I think of as my father,” I placed my hand over his. “I love you, so I'll get over it, but that doesn't take away the disappointment.”
“I know,” he leaned his forehead to mine. “All I can do is try to be a better man. Will you help me?”
Odin cleared his throat, and we pulled away from each other.
“Vervain is very good at inspiring men to greatness,” Odin gave me a gentle smile. “But we have other issues we need to return to.”
“Right, sorry,” I took my seat again. “The Tuatha. If you need me to go with you, I will.”
“Thank you,” Nuada nodded regally, and then set his gaze on Trevor. “And I find that I must ask for your forgiveness as well, Prince VéulfR.”
“Not necessary,” Trevor held up a hand. “You were deceived, as many were evidently.”
“It's very necessary,” Nuada insisted. “I welcomed you into my home and then insulted you. Wrongly, no less. This is unforgivable behavior, a blatant disregard for the laws of hospitality. I've compounded the offense offered you by my grandchild, and for that, I'm deeply sorry.”
“Forgiven,” Trevor said stiffly. I knew he was still trying to get over Re, and I didn't blame him. Frankly, so was I. It's always hard to see those you love as human, with human faults, especially when they're gods.
“Thank you,” Nuada said sincerely. “Now, if you would all be so kind as to accompany me, I have a ship below.”
“A ship?” I lifted my brows.
“The Tuatha Dé Dannan live in a collective territory similar to the Nine Worlds of the Norse gods,” Nuada explained. “We're all connected, though we have our ways of creating boundaries. One of the easiest ways is to form islands,” he waved a hand towards the sea. “Tara is the heart of our territory, the home of our royalty, like the Castle of Eight in Faerie. It's on an island much bigger than my little rock, in the middle of Mag Mell, the Plain of Joy.”
“Plain of Joy?” I cocked my head at Nuada and teased him. “Sounds naughty.”
“It's our version of the Elysian Fields,” Nuada chuckled. “A place of eternal youth and beauty, where special human souls pursue all sorts of pleasures, including those you refer to.”
“Well that put me in my place,” I joined in the laughter.
“The boat is this way” Nuada got up and led us down a hallway to a winding staircase.
It was then that I noticed the lack of a pack around him.
“Where are your dogs?” I looked around for the sleek faerie canines.
“Oh, they don't like Morrigan,” Nuada sighed. “They always make themselves scarce when she comes to visit.”
“Smart animals,” Az whispered.
“It's actually good that they're not around,” Nuada ignored the insult that he doubtless heard. “I don't want them in Tara with all that's happening.”
“You really think the Formorians will attack Tara?” I asked.
“The Formorians have always coveted Tara,” Nuada nodded. “They're a sea faring people, and the island appeals to them.”
“Not to mention that Tara is exceedingly beautiful,” Thor added.
“Yes, that too,” Nuada smiled.
The stairway he led us down was narrow, and curved deeper and deeper into the stone foundation of Nuada's island. It was obviously built for defense. A narrow staircase is easier to hold, especially when you have the higher ground. At the bottom, it opened onto a landing, a dock actually, carved right from the stone. So I suppose it was a rock dock. A long, silver boat bobbed gently on the sea, tethered to a thick wood pole set into the stone.
The boat rode the water high, its elegant curves adorned with flowing designs. In its center was a slim post with a rolled up sail set horizontally across it, and at its back was an oversized rudder. Such a simple design for a god's boat, though the engravings on it were intricate. Nuada got in and went straight to the rudder. We climbed in after him, and settled onto the low benches in the center of the boat. I gave a glance over the side, eyeing the depth of this little inlet. It was quite deep, and the water was so clear, I could follow the slope of stone beneath us all the way out to the mouth of the
inlet, where it dropped off sharply.
With a crack, the sail unfurled, and we began to move forward, despite the lack of wind or oars. Once we cleared the cave, the boat began to move more rapidly, and soon we were skimming the water's surface faster than any jet ski. I scanned the misty horizon, eyes narrowed against the spray of saltwater flying back from the bow of the vessel. The sun was high in the sky above us, making the thick layer of fog, which hung low over the surface of the water, glimmer and shift into beautiful pearly shades of blue and pink. It felt ethereal instead of creepy.
Kirill's hand slipped into mine, and I leaned my head onto his shoulder, my stomach shivering with thoughts of trying to live without him. I was a mother now. I didn't have the luxury of losing myself to grief anymore. Or just plain losing my damn mind. I'd come close to going crazy in the past, and Kirill had been instrumental in helping me return to sanity. I'd saved him from insanity once, and he'd saved me back. Just a couple of ex-psychos who kept each other from falling into the abyss. What was I supposed to do without him?
And what did the Fates mean? What did I need to cut away to save him? Anything. I would cut away anything to save Kirill. I would cut off my right arm or even -gasp- my hair. I would do anything short of hurting others whom I loved. Was that it? I went still in terror. Would I have to choose who to save? I couldn't. It would be an impossible decision. Impossible, and not in the delightful Alice in Wonderland way.
“Tima,” Kirill whispered into my hair. “Stop vorrying about me. I vill be fine. I've been faced vith death too many times to fear it.”
“I fear your death,” I whispered back. “I fear it more than my own.”
“Is it wrong zat your vords make me happy?” he smiled against my forehead.
“No,” I gave him a smile for his efforts. “But you're wrong if you think I'll stop worrying about you.”
“If I die, you just bring me back? Okay?”
“I don't know if I can,” I whispered even lower.
“Vhy not?” he angled his face to mine in surprise.
“You're not a god,” I felt a tremor go through my limbs. “You don't have magic that I can use to make you yourself again. If I brought you back, you'd have a new body, a new life, and you may never remember the old.”
“Like vith Odin,” Kirill's eyes narrowed in thought.
“Yeah, I had to use his spear to return his memory, and then the myths associated with his magic made him change back into himself,” I sighed heavily. “But with you it wouldn't work that way. You might return without your memories, and you'd definitely return without this body.”
“And you like zis body,” he gave me a naughty wink.
“Don't do that.”
“Vhy not? You do it,” his face went hard for a brief moment. “You run into danger laughing, tossing jokes at us who love you so much, ve'd die vithout you. Now I can't make joke vhen I face my death?”
Tears stung my eyes instantly, the breath freezing in my throat.
“Nyet,” he nuzzled his face to mine. “I'm sorry I said zat. I know vhy you jest, Tima. I understand. So try to understand vhy I need some levity too. I refuse to give zis power over me. Life comes vith death, ve all must face zat.”
“Okay,” I swallowed hard as a tear ran down my cheek. That comment had struck me to the quick.
“Enough sorrow,” he swiped away my tear, and nodded to the view before us. “Look.” I lifted my head to see that the fog had thinned, and a shimmering emerald form came into view. “Perhaps zat vill help you forget for little vhile.”
The heart of the Tuatha Dé Dannan territory was indeed lovely. The island stretched languidly over the cradle of the sea, vibrant grassy hills sloping gently into bone-white sand. There were no rocks to mar the line of her shore, nor trees, at least not for some distance. Just that soft slope, and the fluffy forms of sheep enjoying their midday meal. Behind those open arms of land, the island rose up into spiky trees, but nothing beyond the misty form of the forest could be seen. Still, what was visible was achingly beautiful.
We scraped the sand as the boat beached itself, and then the men were jumping out to give me a hand down.
“This way,” Nuada nodded to a rocky path leading up from the beach. “They're expecting us.”
On the road above the path there was a golden, open-air, carriage waiting for us. The driver waved gaily as his snow-white horses stamped the packed earth. As we reached the rise, the rest of the island revealed itself to us, and I just stopped and stared. Kirill had to pull me along and urge me into the carriage. The driver greeted Nuada, and then smiled a general greeting at the rest of us before slapping the reins. The carriage glided forward, following the road away from the shore.
There was nothing plain about the Plain of Joy. It was more of a collection of rolling hills than a flat meadow, and dotting the undulating landscape were beautiful homes in sparkling white stone and crystal. There was only this single road running through them all, but no other vehicles were using it. Mostly people just walked, smiling and waving at us as we passed them. Everyone was so happy here, but I suppose I'd be happy too if I could live forever in bliss on an island paradise.
We passed through the sprawling village, and a wide lake came into view on our left. Little boats floated on its glassy surface. There was quite a bit of human souls about, but not nearly as much as I'd imagined there'd be. So I suppose the Tuatha were picky about who was special enough to live on their sacred island.
We rode right into the forest of soaring pine and elm, the fresh fragrance I associated with Christmas washing over me. But within that evergreen embrace were other scents; summer fruit, flowers, and the rich peaty fragrance of the earth. I saw Trevor and Kirill inhale deep. These smells appealed to us shapeshifters immensely. It made our hands clench with thoughts of digging our claws into the soil and losing ourselves in that pure, wild place. The scent of freedom.
Then the trees thinned, and a palace was revealed within a spacious meadow It was something out of a dream, an impossible castle which was too beautiful even for the God Realm. This building belonged in Faerie. Her walls streaked up to the sky in sleek silver glory, topped with delicate crenelations, and adorned with a cluster of towers which seemed too slim to exist. But perhaps that was just my perspective, they were so very far up there.
“Tara,” Nuada breathed appreciatively. “King Cian himself helped me build her.”
“You built Tara?” I looked to Nuada in surprise.
“We did,” he nodded. “I was her first king.”
“Who's king now?” Azrael asked.
“Dagda,” Nuada smiled. “I was getting tired of ruling. I acceded the throne to him after the last battle with the Formorians. Crowns seem to hang heavier on the head during times of war.”
“You never finished telling us about the Formorians and the Fey,” I reminded him.
“Oh, yes,” he sighed, his eyes still fastened on the jewel before us. Intricately wrought silver gates were opening, and we were swiftly approaching them. “I'll be brief. The Formorians had already befriended the Fey, and were often seen in the company of faeries. This helped to establish them as gods, and when they received their sacrifices, and the magic it brought them, they were given nature magic due to their association with the Shining Ones.”
“Yes, I understand,” I urged him on as we crossed over the cobbled threshold to Tara, passing beneath the dramatic arch of the gate.
“But, as I mentioned, the Formorians had been inclined to instill fear in humans, so their magic was fearsome. They became gods of destruction and chaos. So it was impossible for their rule to be anything but destructive,” Nuada grimaced. “When we landed on Ireland's shores, we soon befriended the Fey as well. Once we were seen in their company, we were also assumed to be gods. But we had a different approach to the people. We sought to help them in exchange for their offerings and they loved us for it. Soon they were praying for us to rid them of Formorian rule.”
Our carria
ge stopped before a set of wide, white, stone steps, and upon them waited a tall, elegant man in a sky-blue robe. He bowed his head toward Nuada. Nuada nodded to him respectfully, but then turned back to me to finish his tale.
“The Formorians grew jealous and angry over our relationship with the humans,” he went on. “Our disagreements eventually escalated into war. I lost my hand during the First Battle of Mag Tuired. We have a law among us that a king must be whole to rule, so I stepped down, and gave the crown to Bres.”
“Bres?” I blinked in surprise. “Why?”
“Bres was the son of a Formorian, Elatha, whom you've met, and a Tuatha Dé Dannan named Eriu,” Nuada explained. “He had seemed fair and competent, a great warrior, and it was a way to make peace with the Formorians. We hoped that a ruler of both pantheons would satisfy everyone.”
“But?” Trevor asked.
We were all leaning forward in our seats, more interested in the story than the stunning silver castle before us.
“But Bres revealed himself to be more Formorian in his nature than Tuatha,” Nuada sighed. “He made my people into slaves for the Formorians, and it became so oppressive that the Tuatha Dé Dannan gathered their magic, under Odin's guidance,” he nodded to Odin, “and made me this,” he held up his silver hand. “Once I was whole again, I took back my throne.”
“Good for you,” I nodded.
“Bres went to his father, and asked for help in reclaiming the throne,” Nuada grimaced, and shot a glance at the man waiting patiently for us on the steps.
The man's hair wasn't black, as I'd initially thought. It was actually a midnight blue, and it flowed like silk over broad shoulders which looked like they'd be more comfortable in fighting leathers than druid's garb. His skin shone a swarthy gold, and his smile beamed blindingly white beneath a calm, ocean-blue stare. He nodded to me when he caught me looking, and I gave him an awkward wave. Nuada held up a hand to indicate that we'd be just a moment longer, and the man bowed again to him in acceptance. He looked like he could have stood there all day without fidgeting once.