by Jessi Gage
Danu found herself liking this human who blurted whatever she thought and used her mind to solve problems.
“Attracted to magic,” she mused while helping herself to a cup of tea. Steam swirled into the crisp air as she poured. “Yes. That describes Duff—and the Fae—perfectly. How did you come to meet him?”
Anya sipped. When she put her cup down, a faraway look came into her eyes. “I had chosen a path of wickedness, and it led me to take a terrible fall.” A wry smile twisted her full lips. “A legacy of daughters who fall from high places. ’Tis what Fergus left behind.” She raised her cup and sipped again, leaving Danu confused about this Fergus. “’Tis where Gravois found me,” Anya went on. “At the bottom of a crevasse. He took me to his camp, and his fellows helped mend my legs. As soon as I was hale enough, he sent me on my way. Gave me some speech about destiny that I dinnae understand until only recently. And without my kenning it, he slipped a bloody magical stone into my dress. ’Twas as though he knew I would need its power of translation. And need it I did. Would have been lost without it.”
Something in her relaxed at hearing Anya mention the moonstone. She untied her cloak so Anya could see she wore it around her neck. “This stone is one of the things I wish to discuss with you.”
Anya’s gaze fell to the moonstone. She did not look surprised to find it in Danu’s possession. “So, he gave it to you, then. I wondered when he would. ’Tis in the painting, after all.”
“Painting?”
“He hasna shown it to you? Och, but he wouldna, would he? At least, he wouldna have shown it to Seona, lest he frighten her senseless.”
Danu blinked. She had no idea what Anya was talking about. “Shown me what?”
“Come.” Anya stood briskly. A wince pulled her face taut, but she did not slow her movements. “Take a walk wi’ me.”
Excited to explore more of Glendall, she left the solar with Anya. Her excitement fizzled when they reached their destination. Surrounded by her guards and Anya’s, they entered a place she’d already seen: the great hall.
Gone were the tables and benches where the guests had been seated. Servants swept and mopped. Anya led the way to the dais.
Curious, Danu followed.
Magnus’s throne sat in a position of prominence. Behind it, a large portrait of her king hung on the wall. The artist had captured him in the moment of victory following a hunt. A great mottled boar lay at his feet, and a fearsome spear glinted from his gloved hand.
Anya circled around the throne, and for the first time, Danu noticed a smaller throne set back from the other. She had not seen it at the feast, perhaps because Magnus’s advisors had been lined up in front of it.
Without ado, Anya pulled on a golden cord of braided rope. A curtain parted, and a second portrait was revealed. This one was smaller than Magnus’s, and the subject was a female. A human female, judging by her delicate build. In fact, the female looked somewhat like Anya, though there were subtle differences. The figure in the portrait was more slender. Her hair and eyes were both a lighter shade of brown than Anya’s. And on her cheek was a purple paw print.
Danu gasped. Her hand went to her cheek, fingers playing over the scar there. “It’s her—me.”
“Seona,” Anya said. “Aye. The artist painted it as Magnus described his dream vision. When I first met him, he thought I was the woman in the portrait. Because of this.” She turned her head, giving Danu an opportunity to see her scars up close. They looked like claw marks dug in her flesh from cheekbone to jaw. Had she gotten them falling from the high place she had mentioned in the solar? Anya faced the portrait again. Her fingers trailed over the carved frame. “He supposed mayhap the dream erred by showing him a paw print instead of claw marks.” She huffed with wry humor. “The moment I saw this, I knew it was Seona. ’Tis her perfect image.”
The likeness was remarkable. It looked exactly like the face staring back at Danu from the polished bronze mirror in the Orange Blossom chamber. Sure enough, the woman in the portrait wore the moonstone. But what captured her attention and refused to let it go was the bundle in the woman’s arms. A baby, fair of skin and blond of hair. Chubby fingers and pink cheeks looked so real they sparked to life a fierce longing in her womb.
The baby had fair hair. Unlike Anya and Riggs. The child in the portrait could only be Magnus’s blood heir.
Her eyes wandered to the portrait of Magnus. His mane of gold surrounded him as regally as any crown. Her human heart pounded fiercely. If Magnus truly had this vision, and if it prophesied the future, he would one day be blessed with a blood heir. And the smaller portrait seemed to imply that Seona would be the mother.
“Will I get her back?” Anya asked.
Danu dragged her gaze from Magnus’s portrait to find Anya touching the image of her sister.
“I believe so,” she said. “Once Magnus defeats Hyrk, the cell holding Seona will be no more. Only then can we return to our true bodies. Duff will ensure she is brought to where I am the very moment the cell fails.”
Anya watched with hopeful eyes. She nodded once with purpose. “Good. Marann needs you where you belong.”
Anya was right. But for some reason, hearing the words left her feeling oddly unsettled.
For a while, they studied the portraits in silence. At last, Anya said, “I canna imagine Seona allowing Magnus close enough to bring this image to life. Nor can I imagine Magnus doing aught to force the matter.”
“Of course, he would not force the matter,” Danu said, perhaps more harshly than necessary.
Anya’s eyebrows shot up. Then her eyes danced, and her lips quirked. “Which leaves me to wonder how this bairn will come to be.” Danu fought the urge to squirm under Anya’s assessing gaze.
“How should I know? I didn’t give this vision. I was in Hyrk’s dungeon.” She shouldn’t speak so frankly where there were ears to hear and mouths to relate her whereabouts to Hyrk, but something about this little human put her on edge. She did not hold as much control over her emotions as she would like. Still, she looked around them. The guards were alert, but far enough away not to hear their every word. The servants cleaning the great hall worked diligently, paying them no heed.
“Someone gave it,” Anya said. “Magnus told the vision to his priest, who confirmed it as more than an ordinary dream.”
Could Anya be right? Could some other immortal have blessed a king in her realm with a vision? She couldn’t imagine any other immortal bothering with a realm they had no stake in. Except, perhaps Hyrk, but it wouldn’t be him. He seemed determined to prevent the vision rendered here in flawless brushstrokes.
Duff was benevolent enough for a Fae to offer some hope to her people in her absence, but she doubted he could have pulled off a vision. The Fae were attracted to magic, true, but their innate magic was limited to sifting place and time and using glamour to appear any which way they desired. To her knowledge, the Fae had no power to meddle with the inner workings of mortal minds.
The vision had to be a mistake. “Mortals often mistake the ordinary for the divine,” she said, though in her heart, she didn’t quite believe that both Magnus and Assaph would make such a mistake.
Anya studied her a moment before gazing up at the painting. “So the portrait is rubbish, then? Pity. It brings Magnus hope. It’ll pain him to know ’tis naught but nonsense.”
“I did not say it was nonsense,” Danu snapped. The idea of Magnus losing hope threatened deep sadness. She knew what it was like to lose hope. “Besides, we have more pressing things to worry about.”
“Och, I suppose you’re right.” Anya sounded weary all of a sudden. “You’re to rule in Magnus’s stead, and I’m to oversee the running of the keep.” She spoke of the duties Magnus had left them in his absence.
Danu waved a hand. “Not those things.” Perhaps the portrait was rubbish, as Anya so bluntly stated. But if any chance existed for Magnus to know the joy of an heir, one thing was certain: He must defeat Hyrk. And she was determined
to help any way she could. She met Anya’s questioning eyes. “We must plan how to help our men.”
Excitement lit Anya’s features. “What do you have in mind?”
Danu tapped her moonstone. “You know this as the Translation Stone, but in reality, it is much more than that.”
Anya smiled broadly. “I’ve been wondering about that.” She grabbed Danu’s hand. “Come to my chamber. There is only one way in and out, so the guards willna need to be inside with us. We’ll be able to speak freely.”
“Lead the way.”
Chapter 23
“Here, try this one.”
Danu plucked a ball of white cheese off a serving platter and popped it in her mouth. Her palate danced with the herbs and fragrant oil drizzled over the mild, creamy bite. “Mmm. That’s wonderful.”
Anya licked her lips and settled her hands over her belly. She was only just starting to show physical effects of being pregnant. If Danu hadn’t already known she carried a child, she would have guessed not from the size of her stomach but from the amount of food she’d just consumed.
On the way to Anya’s chamber, they’d stopped in the kitchen, where servants kept a healthy supply of Anya’s favorite dishes. They’d each carried a platter up to the north tower and had been stuffing themselves on spiced, cooked meats, roasted vegetation, and succulent cheeses. Watered-down beer was Anya’s preference over wine, which she hadn’t found palatable since learning of her pregnancy. Danu sipped a fruity red wine that made her lips tingle pleasantly.
They were alone in the chamber Anya shared with Riggs. It was a generously-sized room with a single window too narrow for a person to fit through. A large bed surrounded by curtains made a private, warm retreat for the lifemates. At the moment, however, it served as a den for two conspiring women.
Two bed warmers kept the space within the curtains cozy, and small trays provided a home for their soiled tableware. Anya lounged on pillows, and Danu reclined on a decadent bed fur. The pleasant company almost took the edge off how badly she missed Magnus.
“I canna imagine Seona as a goddess,” Anya said. “What do you look like? Help me picture her. I’ve only seen the statues in the temple, but none of them feel like a real woman to me. I’ve always been that way—unable to look at a sculpture and see it as in life.”
Danu could look any way she wanted, but she chose to describe her truest form, the one she had been created with and always reverted to. “It was no mistake that I made wolfkind to have Fae characteristics. I am slender and comely, as the Fae. My hair is gold, my skin sun-kissed.”
“You sound lovely, indeed.” Anya’s voice was wistful, as if she were imagining her sister in the body Danu had just described. “She’ll be back here with me when we defeat Hyrk, you say?”
Danu nodded. “At least, that is the plan. Duff has a role to play, and so will your sister. Although Magnus’s role will be the most difficult.” Her lover must defeat Hyrk. “If everyone plays their part, this should all be over before long.” It might be selfish of her, but she indulged in a fantasy of remaining in this form so she could spend a mortal lifespan loving her king.
“What will become of you, then?” Anya frowned.
Danu’s chest warmed at the worry on Anya’s face. She’d had the worship of mortals for millennia, but she had precious few friends. “With Hyrk destroyed, his prison will be no more. I’ll be restored to my true form and free to rule my people again.” She tried to sound happy about this prospect—and she was. But a thread of sadness pulled taut within her, like that string connecting her and Magnus. She sighed and rubbed the spot over her breastbone, where the string felt tightest.
“And the children will be home,” Anya said.
Danu latched onto Anya’s words as a distraction from the discomfort in her chest. “Those poor dears.”
“’Tis one matter to have Riggs away. I dinnae like it, but I ken he’s strong and he will return to me. Travis is another matter, altogether.” She wrung her hands in her lap. “He’s the youngest and smallest of them. And the most loyal to Magnus. I’m worrit for him.”
“He is your servant, yes?”
Anya nodded. “But more than that. He was the first to make me feel at home here in Glendall. He’s like—” She cupped her womb. “He’s like a son to me now, and I willna rest until I have him home again.”
“We shall have him back,” Danu said. “And the other children, as well as our men.” Realizing what she’d just admitted to, she cleared her throat. “You mentioned you have been wondering about this.” She lifted her moonstone and watched it wink in the lantern light. “Tell me your thoughts.” Anya struck her as a canny woman. Danu hoped they could rub their two minds together and come up with some way to help Magnus and his army, even if they could not be with them.
Anya smiled wryly, seeing through Danu’s abrupt change of topic, but she did not comment on it. Sitting forward, she took on a mien of planning and preparation. A whole new energy seemed to fill her at the prospect of solving a problem.
“I’ve been thinking,” Anya said with a tap to her temple, “and I dinnae think the stone is limited to translation. You see, when I first came to this realm, I was helpless and in the wilderness. Those bloody Larnians found me, and their plans for me were barbaric. Riggs rescued me, and I wonder if some magic didn’t ensure I would come to be in that very place at that very time for a reason. If I had come to any other location, I wouldna have met Riggs or overheard those boil-assed degenerates discussing Bantus’s harem. And that isna the only time I suspect that stone nudged my fate.
“See, I had it with me when I escaped the Larnian commander who took me from Riggs, and when Riggs and I came together the first time. Riggs made me his pledgemate that night, but somat more happened.”
“You became lifemates,” Danu said, wondering not for the first time how such a union had occurred while she’d been in prison.
Anya nodded. “You were locked up, so you couldna have done it for us. It must have been the stone.” Anya looked at it pointedly. “And when that bloody bastard Ari sent me through to Larna to face Bantus, I had the stone in my hand the whole time. I dinnae ken how to stab a man, but somehow I was able to grab a blade and stick it in just right. And Riggs was able to tear a great bolt from the beam he was chained to, allowing him to slay Bantus. My mate is strong, but I doona ken if he could perform such a feat a second time. ’Twas somat more than his own strength,” she said with a decisive nod. “Mayhap ’twas Faerie magic, the kind you said Gravois’s attracted to. The stone came from him, after all.”
Danu listened to all the miracles that had occurred near her moonstone. With each one, her gladness built. She had not been present to aid her people, but her moonstone had brought them aid in her stead.
“Not Faerie magic,” she said. “But the power of a goddess.” At Anya’s surprised look, she said, “This stone is my relic. I made it early in my imprisonment and sent it to the mortal realm with Duff to keep it out of Hyrk’s hands.” She rubbed the stone between her fingers, wishing she could make it work. Even if she wasn’t ready to return to her immortal form, she would like to use it to work miracles the likes of which Anya described. “If Hyrk was to keep me imprisoned for all time, I wanted a piece of my power to remain where it might do my people some good. I call it my moonstone.”
“Your moonstone,” Anya repeated. One corner of her mouth lifted. “So I’m no’ mad to suspect magic has been lending us aid all along?”
Danu chuckled. “No. You’re not mad. In fact, it seems to me you’re quite astute.”
Anya’s cheeks took on a rosy hue. “Well, you accomplished what you meant to by sending your moonstone away with Gravois. Somehow, he knew where I would be going. He slipped it in my pocket without my knowledge, and look at all the magic it worked for the good of wolfkind. Half the time, I forgot I carried it, but it was there all the time, helping us.” Anya sat up straighter. “Now that you have it back, you can wield its power!” she said
as if she’d just realized what good luck they’d stumbled across. “You can make it help our men!”
“I wish you were right.” Danu let the stone fall to her chest. “It does not recognize me. I fear the only one who can truly wield its power now is Seona.”
“Because she’s in your body.” Anya’s eyes darted to and fro in thought. “Och, but it worked for me and for Riggs. Even Magnus uses it to speak with the human women. Mayhap ’tis aiding now and we dinnae even ken it.”
“Perhaps,” Danu said slowly, tapping her chin. “Perhaps my moonstone cannot be commanded by mortals. Perhaps its magic simply happens when it is needed, almost as if it is sentient.”
“I have learned that magic is not predictable. I think—I think it is sentient. It has motives that we can only guess at.” Duff’s words from her dream came to mind.
“Sentient? What are you haverin’ about?”
“Sentient,” Danu repeated. At Anya’s questioning look, she said, “Thinks for itself. Duff said he thought my moonstone was sentient.” Anya wasn’t the only one to experience miracles while holding her moonstone. “He had my moonstone for centuries. It provided him the means to circumvent Arwan’s curse. It bonded you and Riggs. It provided rescue for you in Larna. It allowed Magnus to speak with the human women. What if its magic gives the one possessing it whatever they desire most?”
Anya shook her head, chestnut locks dancing on her shoulders. “No. I could speak with Riggs before I even knew the stone was in my pocket. I dinnae desire to speak with him. I simply could—before I even realized we spoke different tongues.”
“Then it provides what is needed. The one thing that is needed most.” Excitement teased up and down her spine. This line of thought would take them in the right direction. She was certain of it.