by Sumida,Amy
“I know,” he said again. “And now you know it too.”
I held his hand through the rest of the meeting, feeling my assurance that I would prevent his death, grow stronger and stronger. I wouldn't fight fate, wouldn't try to hide Kirill anymore. I knew enough to listen to good counsel when I heard it. But when the time came, I would be there. I would stand beside him and face death with him... and I would somehow save him. I was certain of it. Because the alternative was just unacceptable.
The meeting concluded, and I headed for the door with my group of gods and demi-gods. Nuada, Manannan, and Fand stepped over to us ,and tried to speak to Lugh again. He stared at them stoically, and the rest of us tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, awkward witnesses wanting nothing more than to walk away. But we were also incapable of leaving Lugh. I had claimed him, which meant my people had claimed him. He was ours now. That's how it worked with us. So we stood at his back, a show of silent support, and waited for him to decide how to handle his ex-family.
Then Dagda came up to us and everyone went quiet.
“Queen Vervain,” Dagda's voice was even deeper than Manannan's. “Would you join me in my study while I prepare the letter to the High King?”
“Of course,” I said immediately, but then looked back to the tense group of gods. “Please try and... oh, I don't know. Just don't kill each other.”
“It's hardly that sort of situation,” Nuada said gruffly.
“Isn't it?” I looked at Lugh's furious face, and then laid a hand on his arm. “I'll be back in a few minutes, and then we can take you to Pride Palace. From there, we'll trace to Faerie, and you'll meet your family. There is a place for you, and it's even more beautiful than this one. I promise you, you will be happy again.”
He nodded, his shoulders easing, and gave me a grateful look.
“What's this now?” Dagda stared around the circle. “His family is right here. Fey blood or not, Lugh is our kin.”
“You knew about my father too? My true father?” Lugh's eyes narrowed on Dagda, who flinched.
“He cannot claim you, Lugh,” Dagda tried to put a hand to Lugh's shoulder, but Lugh pulled away.
“I don't know why all of you believe that about King Cian,” I shook my head in wonder. “Unless he was a different man than the one I know. I suppose that's possible, it has been thousands of years for him.”
“Thousands?” Lugh gaped at me.
“When Faerie was closed off from Earth, it became its own dimension, with its own version of time,” I explained. “They moved faster than we did. Well, differently, I should say. Time was the same for them, it just was different comparatively.”
“Then maybe he won't remember my mother,” Lugh whispered. “Which means he won't believe that I'm his son.”
“He'll remember,” I assured him. “And, Lugh, one look at you will tell him all he needs to know. You're nearly a mirror image of him.”
Mirror- the word resonated in me, and I suddenly remembered that Cheshire cat in the Moirai territory. Damn, even their magical creatures were psychic. What had he said? Something about the reflection being more true. Mirrors and truth, what did it all mean? Was Lugh the reflection of Cian? Was he the embodiment of truth for the High King? Or was that little nugget of wisdom meant for me personally? I fingered the stripe of starlight in my hair.
“Really?” Lugh blinked his golden eyes at me, and drug me out of my mirror musings.
“Really,” Manannan answered before I could recover enough to do so. “Your very face has been my accuser for all of these years. I'm so sorry, Lugh. So very sorry to keep you from him. Especially if it is as Queen Vervain says, and the High King would welcome you.”
“It is,” I said with absolute certainty. “All fey children are welcome in Faerie, even those who have two souls.”
“Two souls,” Lugh shook his head. “I'd like to know more about what that means for me.”
“You're still you,” I shrugged. “You're just a faerie now too, a very special one. When the Fey die, they return to their Source, a sort of elemental stew. Their essences are recycled, and put into a new faerie when they're born. In that way, they live forever, but they don't come back as the same being. You, however, with your god soul, will go to the Void if you die. There, your soul will keep your faerie essence safe, and the both of you can be reborn whole. You won't have your memories, but you'll still have the same souls.”
The Celtic gods gaped at me.
“Right,” I said into the silence. “I forgot you all didn't know about that.”
“The Void?” Dagda recovered first. “There's a heaven for gods?”
“It's not like that,” I struggled to explain. “There's no judgments there. There's no one to rule. It's just the place your soul was born, and it's where your soul returns upon death, to be reincarnated.”
“Reincarnation is real?” Manannan breathed with wonder. “We can die and be reborn?”
“Yes,” I calmly blew their minds.
“And Lugh can too, even though he's part Fey,” Fand added with just the barest hint of jealousy.
“Yes,” I gave Lugh an encouraging smile. “It's confusing, I know, and I'm still learning all the details. But that's basically how it works.”
“Well, Queen Vervain,” Dagda announced, “your visit today has been one to remember.”
“She's definitely brought a lot of truth to light,” Lugh ground out.
“I'm sorry for my part in the deception,” Dagda said to Lugh. “But you are still family, Lugh. No matter what your blood is, we all consider you to be Tuatha. You are of the People.”
“That's very kind of you to say,” Lugh bowed stiffly. “But I'm not sure I can consider myself such anymore.”
“Perhaps one day you'll change your mind,” Dagda's voice went soft and gentle. “Please don't hesitate to return to us. You will always have a place at Tara.”
“Thank you,” Lugh sighed. “But for now, I'm anxious to see my new home. Please conclude your business with Queen Vervain swiftly.”
“That was a little impudent,” Dagda frowned at Lugh. “I'll allow it this once under the circumstances. But watch your tone with me in the future.”
“No offense, King Dagda,” Lugh's voice went hard. “But you are no longer my king.”
Several people gasped, and Dagda's face went tight with anger.
“Be gone from my sight, boy,” Dagda hissed.
“I will do so most happily, as soon as you conclude your business with the Queen of Fire,” Lugh shot back.
“The letter, King Dagda,” I interrupted. “If you want me to deliver it, I'd suggest you write it now. Because if you cast Lugh out, I go with him.”
Dagda nodded stiffly, and gestured for me to follow him down the hall. His angry stride took us to a tall, carved door. He snatched it open, and gestured me into a sprawling room. The chamber curved around a semi-circular fireplace big enough to roast a giraffe in. I could walk through the fireplace if I wanted to. Hell, Fenrir could.
Around this giant fireplace, which was unfortunately cold, a collection of very manly furniture was placed sporadically. A heavy desk, made from a combination of stone and wood, sat directly between the fireplace and an outward curving window of mullioned glass. An angry sea tossed outside that window. It was off in the distance, but the waves seemed to be trying their hardest to close the gap and destroy the delicate glass. Water, especially the tide, had become ominous for me, and I quickly looked away.
To either side of this daunting display, soaring bookshelves spanned the rest of the curving walls. Though the shelves surged upward perhaps forty feet, there wasn't a ladder in sight. I had no idea how Dagda reached the books near the top. Maybe he just levitated.
I tried to push away an image of Dagda floating about his office as he perused his books, but it was hard to let go of, and even harder to not laugh at. Really, there were very few people who could pull of floating with aplomb. Mainly ghosts and air-sidhe came to mind. I
know I wouldn't be able to. Without something dramatic happening around me, say lightning shooting from my fingertips or something else equally impressive, I would simply look silly bobbing in mid-air. What would I do with my hands?
As I pondered the placement of hands whilst floating, Dagda strode to the massive desk, and fell back into its throne-like chair. He pulled out a sheaf of paper from a drawer, and dipped an honest-to-god quill pen into an inkwell.-Insert chuckle over god pun here.- He began to scribble furiously, the sound of the quill emphasizing the harshness of his expression. I had to look away. I wasn't sure if he was still angry over Lugh or upset about the Formorians. If it was Lugh, I didn't support his anger since I saw Lugh as the injured party. If it was the Formorians, there was nothing I could say to help Dagda. So it was best for me to just keep my mouth shut. Difficult to do if I kept watching him.
I transferred my attention to the room, and ended up wandering to the bookshelves. I perused the old manuscripts, some were even ancient, and then a glimmer caught my eye. On one of the shelves sat a silver club. As in a very old sort of weapon. It reminded me a little of Thor's hammer, except its head wasn't so wide. There were intricate designs carved into the silver, and the handle ended in a rounded gem. The gem winked at me, and I realized it was what had caught my attention. I reached for it without thinking.
“Queen Vervain!” Dagda's voice froze me in place, my hand halfway to the club. “I would advise against that.”
“I'm so sorry,” I pulled back my hand like a naughty child caught in the act of stealing a treat. “I don't know what I was thinking. I know better than to touch another god's things.”
“That's my club,” Dagda smiled grimly. “It probably called to you. It has a tendency to attract people with great magic.”
“What would have happened if I'd touched it?”
“I don't know for certain,” he cocked his head and considered the weapon. “Perhaps nothing. But the club is a magic collector, and it's behavior can be mercurial. Absolutely unpredictable.”
“A magic collector?” My hand wandered to the heavy emerald pendant at my throat. It had been a gift from Odin, and it collected magic as well.
“One end of the club kills,” Dagda nodded to the dangerous head. “And the other reanimates.”
“Reanimates? Like Anubis can do through his jackals?”
“Precisely,” Dagda agreed “One swing of that club can take down nine men, but one touch from that gem can bring them back... to fight for me.”
“Yeah, I think I'll just go over here now,” I turned in the opposite direction as Dagda laughed and went back to his letter.
I didn't need that kind of unreliable magic near me. I'd just got my star fixed.
Then I spotted an iron cauldron big enough to be a Jacuzzi. Hell, maybe it was. These Celts seemed crazy enough to throw that thing over a fire, fill it with water, and jump in for a nice relaxing soak. But really, who was I to talk? I liked bathing in lava on occasion.
The iron Jacuzzi sat directly on the gray carpet, no fire beneath it. Yet it was full of a bubbling liquid whose delicious aroma wafted over to me, and made my stomach growl. Dagda looked up again in surprise.
“Sorry,” I gave him a self-deprecating smile, “I've been up for over twenty-four hours, and I haven't had a decent meal yet.”
I shivered, knowing I was running on adrenaline and fear alone. I think I'd had a little caffeine in there somewhere, but with my metabolism it didn't count. Concern for my sons and Kirill were the only things keeping me standing.
“Help yourself,” Dagda waved a hand towards the cauldron as he chuckled.
“Excuse me?” I looked dubiously at the bubbling surface.
“Queen Vervain,” he stopped writing to look up at me again. I really needed to stop interrupting him or I'd never get out of Tara. “Have you never heard of my bountiful cauldron? It's an endless source of food. Simply approach it, and ask for whatever you desire to eat.”
“No way,” I strode up to the intimidating iron pot, and eyed the roiling surface of shimmering liquid. It looked like something that belonged in a witch's cave. So I suppose I should feel totally comfortable with it. “Um hello, Cauldron. Can I please have a Reuben sandwich? With steak fries?”
The surface bubbled with even more agitation, and a damn sandwich bobbed to the top, surrounded by spray of steak fries. They all just floated there, waiting for me to take them. I huffed in disbelief and snatched a fry. It was crisp and hot, like it had just been pulled from the fryer.
“I'm impressed,” I turned back to Dagda. “I've never seen anything like this before.”
“I wish I could take credit for it,” Dagda smiled. “But it was my followers who thought it up. It simply appeared in my home one day.”
“I bet it makes unannounced guests easier to deal with,” I noted as I pulled out the sandwich. “Oh yeah,” I savored the first bite. “And boy can that cauldron cook. This is wonderful. I need one of these to feed my Intare. We could get rid of that smelly farm.”
“I'm glad to offer you sustenance, and I apologize for my lack of hospitality earlier,” Dagda frowned down at his letter as he sealed it with wax. He mushed his ring into the blood-red puddle, and then looked up at me. “That was ill done. You should have been offered refreshment right away.”
“We were all a little distracted,” I shook my head. “Don't worry about it.”
“Sit down,” he got up and hurried over to where I stood beside the cauldron. “Here,” he pulled a chair over for me. “At least I've been given the opportunity to make up for my rudeness. Please, enjoy your food. Would you like some wine?”
“I would love some,” I sighed and took a seat. “Thank you, King Dagda.”
“My pleasure,” he came back with a glass of white wine and the sealed letter. “And thank you for serving as messenger for me. It's a job far beneath your status.”
“Nonsense,” I waved away his concern, and took the letter from him. “It's not a big deal.”
“And one more favor, if you don't mind, Queen Vervain,” he stood before me solemnly.
“Yes?”
“Look after Lugh for us,” he swallowed hard. “We all love him. I know we seem like monsters to you at the moment, but we truly acted out of concern for him and King Cian. We believed we were doing the right thing.”
“It's hard to tell sometimes, isn't it?”
“Especially when you're a king,” he agreed somberly. “Right and wrong tend to blur together when you wear a crown.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
By the time we reached Pride Palace, I was ready to pass out. After eating, my body had decided to throw all its energy into digesting, and as a result, my mind was ready to rest. God healing can only get you so far. Even the divine has to sleep sometime.
But Lugh was anxious to get to Faerie, and I understood completely. So it was convenient that my ring gave me the perfect solution. I'd jump back in time to when I'd left Faerie, and be able to get a full night's sleep with a few hours to spare, before time caught up and I could return to collect Lugh. But when I told my men the plan, Kirill offered to trace Lugh into Faerie, and then I could simply meet them at the End of the Road.
I agreed readily since it also solved my issue of not wanting to leave Kirill alone. I didn't actually give it a lot of thought, since I was so damn tired. I just used my ring to head back to Faerie, and reformed at the foot of the massive metal bed I shared with Arach. Our sons were asleep on the mattress, surrounded by a border of pillows, and Arach's footsteps were just approaching the bedroom door.
I yanked off my clothes, waving away the concern of a sleepy Dexter, who had lifted his head to see what I was about, and kicked my clothing under the bed. I crawled under the covers, setting the pillows back to rights just as Arach entered. He stopped just inside the door, gave me a tired smile, and then closed the door behind him.
“You will be so proud of me, Wife,” he pitched his voice low so he wouldn't wake the boy
s.
“Oh yeah?” I smiled and tried to focus on his words, but ended up yawning.
“Did I wake you?” he asked and came to sit beside me.
“No,” I sighed. “I haven't slept yet.”
“Good, we can rest together,” he yanked off his tunic, and headed towards the bathroom. “But first I need to wash off this mud.”
“You didn't tell me why I should be proud,” I called after him.
I heard the shower start.
“In a moment,” he called back.
I promptly passed out, but the movement of the mattress woke me when he crawled into bed later. I snuggled against him, pulling back a little when my nose hit his damp hair. He sighed and settled around me, our bodies fitting together with a type of muscle memory. Then I remembered that the boys were still in bed with us.
My eyes shot open, “The boys.”
“I took them to the nursery,” Arach chuckled and pulled me back against his chest.
“Oh, okay,” I settled back, and took a deep breath of Arach-scented air.
“Do you want to hear what I found in that muddy pit?” Arach nudged me.
Oh, right. He'd been investigating our deadly pool... dead pool... I smiled against his chest. We had a Deadpool, just not the snarky, awesome, anti-superhero kind. Though our Deadpool was probably full of earth again. Not so deadly or pool-ly. Wait. Arach found something? I opened my eyes with supreme effort and focused on him.
“What did you find?”
“A scale,” he said grimly. “I did as you taught me, and looked for physical clues. We searched every bucket of muck we pulled out of that hole, and our efforts paid off.”
“A scale?” I sat up and gaped at him.
“A shimmering, opalescent, fish scale,” he nodded. “The type water-sidhe shed when they switch from legs to tails or vice-versa.”
“It was a mermaid?!” I nearly shouted. “A mermaid tried to kill us?”
Dexter whined, and came to the foot of the bed to stare balefully at us.
“Yes,” Arach nodded to me, and then waved Dexter onto the bed.