Airiu let out a harsh laugh, and the Queen turned to stare at her. “Is this the truth, Airiu?”
“Of course it isn’t, my Queen. Fingin and I chatted peacefully. I had been telling a story when Tomnat arrived and absconded with Fingin to complete the second half of his vow. During that time, Bodach arrived and pestered me.”
The Queen didn’t change her expression with either explanation. She clasped her hands and waited. “What else?”
Airiu glanced at Bodach, but he maintained his innocent façade. She glanced back to the Queen. “I may say nothing, Your Grace, in the current company.”
The Queen narrowed her eyes and set her jaw. “Do you defy my command?”
Airiu stood straighter, the first glimmer of fear showing in her eyes. “Not at all, my Queen. However, the information I have is for your ears only.”
The air grew colder, and the light dimmed. Fingin remained frozen, but it seemed as if everyone else did, too. Bran whined beside him, and he wanted to comfort the dog, but couldn’t even move his hand to place on Bran’s head.
The Queen’s voice grew colder than an ice storm. “Bodach, you will leave.”
“My Queen! But there is something you should hear—“
“Leave. Now. Do not test my wrath, Consort.”
The bark-skinned Fae gave Fingin and Airiu each a murderous glare but slunk away with several glances over his shoulder. As soon as he disappeared, the air warmed again. Queen Cliodhna sat on one log, a normal movement that removed some of the regal mystical quality from her stature. The freezing eased, and he placed his hand on Bran’s flank, patting the dog a few times in reassurance.
Again, the Queen spoke, but her manner had also thawed. She smiled, her berry-red lips in a beautiful curve which took Fingin’s breath away. “Airiu, what have you to tell me? I suspect I already know your news, but I would hear it from you.”
With a glance at Fingin, Airiu cleared her throat. “It’s about your Consort. May I speak of him?”
“You may.”
“Bodach is searching for information, trying to find something against you, Your Grace. I fear he is trying to undermine your power. He’s interrogated me, Uasal, and even Tomnat.”
“And have you told him anything to his advantage?”
Airiu’s eyes grew wide. “Of course not! Even if I knew anything, I’d never tell his ilk.”
The Queen nodded. “Good, good. You’ve done well, Airiu. I must find a way to reward you for your loyalty. Now I must speak with the human and his hound. Leave us.”
The ice had returned, but it had nothing to do with the Queen’s magic and everything to do with Fingin’s own fear.
As his love left, he sent her a beseeching glance, a wish, and a prayer. She blew him a kiss as she disappeared down the path. He steeled his spine and turned back to the Faerie Queen, his grandmother, Cliodhna.
She gave him a human-like half-smile. “You didn’t think I recognized you at first, did you?”
He swallowed. “I didn’t.”
“Of course, I recognized my own grandson! How could I not? But, for various reasons, most of them involving a certain consort, acknowledging you in front of my entire court would be unwise.”
“I… I understand. I think.”
“You don’t understand, but your comprehension isn’t necessary. Your cooperation is all I require.” Some of the ice had seeped back into her voice.
He swallowed again. “What do you require of me?”
“I need you to leave.”
He cocked his head and furrowed his brow. “Leave? You’ve done everything you can to bind me here.”
She let out a sigh and closed her eyes. “Yes, I am aware. That mess resulted from my conceit, my folly. I should have made you leave Faerie at once. However, external pressures kept me from doing so then. I needed to satisfy a favor, and that favor is now satisfied.”
“A favor to Tomnat?”
“Indirectly, yes. She wanted a child, and none of her efforts with other Fae resulted in issue. Therefore, she made me promise the first human to arrive would be hers to do with as she liked. She insisted on two issue, in case of a sickly babe, as sometimes happens when our kinds mix.”
“Our kind? So you are Fae, then?”
“Hush with that question, child!” She glanced around, nervous in case someone overheard. She dropped her voice into a fierce whisper. It still held all the command of her speaking voice, but without the carrying power. “No, I am not pure Fae. But I have Fae blood, and therefore, so do you. However, this information must remain secret. Do you understand? It’s information Bodach would use to oust me from my throne. He must not, under any circumstances, discover the truth. This is one reason I didn’t acknowledge you when I first saw you at court.”
“How can he take your throne? He can’t be a Faerie Queen, can he?”
“He cannot, but he can raise one of the female Fae to that spot if I were disposed of.”
She spoke the words “disposed of” with no inflection or emotion. They sank into Fingin’s bones with a chilling premonition.
“Now, I have a plan for you to leave. You must take Tomnat and your babe with you to keep them safe, but you must leave with stealth, lest Bodach stops you. Will you go?”
Fingin opened his mouth to say yes, and to ask her about the brooch, when Bodach returned to the glade. He swallowed his words and resolved to ask her about it when they left.
* * *
The following day, when Fingin woke, he once again lay still, listening for voices. Grimnaugh grunted, and Adhna laughed, but they said few words. When he got tired of waiting for something to happen, Fingin rose with a mighty stretch. Maybe they hadn’t prepared a celebration after all and had been distracted by something else. No matter. He’d rarely celebrated the day of his birth. His mother had usually given him some small token before he’d left home, but the gifts were practical in nature. A new léine or perhaps a tool to help in the fields.
When he emerged from the roundhouse, though, a great shout rose up, and a dozen Fae yelled and screamed. Frantically searching for the threat, Fingin grabbed the doorframe, but then he noticed the faces all wore smiles.
Bits of leaves had been torn up and thrown in the air. Vines draped every tree, radiating from the roundhouse roof like a giant wheel. A pile of wrapped things lay jumbled near the path.
Eager grins from Adhna, Grimnaugh, Airiu, Gnathnad, Uasal, Cúán, Némán, and several other Fae whose names he either didn’t know or remember.
Flushed, he sat back on the ground, trying to make sense of everything. How could he have a day of birth when there were no days in Fae? He realized his grandmother might remember such a day, but why remember for so long, and to tell Adhna? His own parents had never made such a fuss over days of birth.
Airiu sat next to him and hooked her hand around his elbow. “Come, Fingin! I’m told we must celebrate! Will you dance?”
Grimnaugh placed his hand on hers, stopping them from rising. “No, no, he must eat the food first. And open his gifts!”
Fingin glanced at a table, covered in odd foods. His stomach growled at the sight of them, and they laughed. He grinned in genuine delight.
Adhna wouldn’t let him go to the table, though. “We’ll serve you, today only, young human! You sit, and we’ll bring you samples. Then we’ll bring you the gifts.”
He caught his breath at the mention of gifts. Gifts from the Fae were dangerous, and usually fraught with return obligations. His apprehension must have shown on his face, for Airiu giggled. “No, these gifts are free of encumbrance or geis, I vow to you.”
With a lighter heart, he waited for the first plate of Faerie food.
When Gnathnad brought him a plate with sticky insects, rolled leaves, and red berries, his heart grew a little heavier. He tried the berries first, their bitter taste making him pucker his lips. The leaves, at least, tasted salty and savory, with some sort of nutty stuffing. The insect, however, remained on his plate until he
could no longer politely ignore it.
With cautious fingers, he examined it from all sides before biting one edge. It crunched, but sweetness flooded his mouth. Bolder now, he took a bigger bite, finally finishing the delicacy with a smile.
Now the first gift came, Némán holding it out with due ceremony. “I hope you like this. It was my brother’s long ago. Since he passed to Tír na nÓg, I can freely gift this elsewhere without requiring a gift in return.”
The pale Fae smiled as Fingin accepted his gift, turning it around in his hand before unwrapping the broadleaf cover. Inside, a sparkling dewdrop shining in the light. Almost afraid to touch it, Fingin glanced up before doing so.
Némán nodded. “I found it on the pond near the Queen’s palace.”
“Thank you. I shall treasure it.” He carefully re-wrapped the drop, having no idea what else he should do with it.
With a bow, Némán backed up, making way for Grimnaugh and his offering. With a grin, Fingin opened his friend’s gift. When he unwrapped the gossamer wrapping, he furrowed his brow, puzzled. “A leaf?”
“It floated on the wind near me when I thought of what I should get you. So I decided it must want to be yours.”
Fingin kept his grin strong. While the Fae wasn’t to know what proper gifts should be, he would never let them know they hadn’t gotten it quite right. They’d tried, and that was the most important part.
One by one, the Fae gave their gifts. Some, like Uasal, simply gave a tasty fruit or mug of drink. Others gave an odd bug, a twig, or a strange stone. However, when Airiu appeared before him, empty-handed, he waited.
“My gift to you is my voice, Fingin. My song, something to hold in your heart when we aren’t together.”
Fingin’s throat closed, not trusting himself to speak. When she opened her mouth, the sweetest sound came forth, caressing him with power and love. He wanted to close his eyes to experience the song, but he also wanted to keep the memory of Airiu strong in his sight.
When she finished, he felt lighter, younger, and more vibrant than ever before. She squeezed his hand and said, “I wish you a delightful birth celebration.”
“You’ve made it more delightful than I could ever imagine.”
Chapter Fourteen
Fingin wished night existed in Faerie. It would make the entire escape easier, under cover of darkness. However, with Adhna’s help, he gathered a pack of food, supplies, and clothing. Tomnat arrived with a grim smile on her face. He tried to speak to her, but she stopped him. “I don’t wish to leave to your world, but circumstances have forced my decision. Don’t make it pitiful with your groveling apologies.”
He ached to say goodbye to Airiu, but his grandmother had forbidden it. “Adhna can pass on any message you like, but Bodach is watching her. He’s convinced she knows something he can use, even though she only suspects. She will act as a decoy to your escape.”
He hated the thought of putting Airiu in danger for his benefit, but then he remembered her razor-sharp teeth and nails. She’d be able to protect herself much better than he would ever be able to.
Fingin berated himself for forgetting to ask his grandmother for the brooch when they spoke the day before. Now, just before they left, he reminded himself to do so.
His pack on his shoulder, he thanked Adhna for his hospitality. The Fae glanced over at the Queen, arguing with Tomnat. “Think nothing of it, young man. I have obligations to your family for times past, and I’m certain we’ll meet again. Perhaps even soon.” A pensive expression passed over his face before he smiled. “Take care of Tomnat. She may seem prickly, but she is, at heart, a kind creature.”
Fingin doubted this, but wouldn’t argue with a man in his own home. “Come, Bran. Time to say farewell to my grandmother.”
Tomnat looked as if someone had just stolen her puppy. She glared at him as he approached, but Queen Cliodhna waved her away. “You have your mission, Tomnat. Don’t let me down.”
With another scowl, she stalked off to stand at the path, waiting for Fingin with transparent impatience.
“Fingin, you must do me proud. You are my last hope for the family, you know.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
“Did you not know? Your brothers have all passed away. You’re the only one left.”
Fingin gasped and shook his head to clear the shock. “All of them? All four? What happened?”
She frowned, the action forming lines around her mouth. “I suspect Bodach, as two of them went mad before they killed themselves. The others died alone by strange mischance. I cannot prove anything, but I have my suspicions.”
“Killed themselves?”
“One jumped from a cliff onto the rocks. Another ate poisoned mushrooms, apparently on purpose. Cattle trampled the other two.”
Fingin gritted his teeth. This Bodach had a lot to answer for. He would have to make him pay some day.
“You will not be the one to exact this revenge, grandson. Do you understand?”
Had she heard his thoughts? “What?”
“Yes, your thoughts screamed so loud I’m surprised they can’t hear it in the palace. I said it is not your mission to bring revenge upon Bodach. He is much too powerful an adversary for you. I’ve tried in the past, and even my power isn’t up to the task. You’d die if you tried. Just like your brothers.”
His blood still boiled with rage. He’d never liked his brothers. In fact, they’d been the main reason he’d left home so young, to avoid their bullying, and his father’s. However, they remained kin. Gaelic tradition demanded he seek revenge for their murder.
“Do not disobey me in this, Fingin. I need your vow.”
He clenched his fists, unable to make such a vow, and yet unable to deny his grandmother. The conflict made his head ache, and he took several deep breaths, trying to work out what he needed to do.
“I will take care of the matter when I can, Fingin. This is not your retribution to visit. They were my grandsons, remember.”
Fingin let out a sigh. She had made an excellent point, and he had forgotten she had a better kin-claim than he did. All his family had been her descendants, her dearbhfhine, a kin group stretching across three generations. Though such a group usually calculated from a male ancestor, for a Faerie Queen, an exception might be made.
A step behind them made Fingin jump, but Adhna presented no threat. “We must leave, my Queen. Your presence is attracting attention. I’ve seen three Fae pass already, peering around the trees. Bodach will learn of this company before too long.”
“Quite so. Tomnat, it is time.”
The sullen Fae woman, their babe in her arms, nodded. Bran stood next to Fingin, and the Queen led the way with Adhna bringing up the rear. The odd procession did not take the Silver Path, but struck off across the countryside, with no idle chatter or conversation. Away from the Path, the light dimmed somewhat, as fewer trees glowed with the preternatural brightness. They walked in silence in the ambient light.
Bran remained subdued, forgoing his normal penchant for exploring every hillock and creature they passed. He still perked up at each sound but didn’t explore.
The trees fell away into a small glade, with a wide stone pool in the center. The circular wall had steps leading into the water, and Fingin realized this must be a passage to the other realm. Once again, he’d have to walk down into the water. He didn’t relish the prospect but knew he must escape to his own realm. Perhaps he’d be able to convince Tomnat to settle into her new life as his wife, and raise their children in peace. He just wished his speech wouldn’t return to its halting habit when he left Faerie. He quite enjoyed being able to say what he wanted without difficulty. Such a freedom most people took for granted.
Queen Cliodhna turned to the Fae woman first. “Tomnat, walk in first, with the babe. The other side should be in a forest along the coast, far from any mortal village. You’ve visited the mortal realm before, so at least it won’t be too much of a shock. Wait for the human.”
&n
bsp; With a resentful glance at Fingin, Tomnat nodded and took the first three steps into the pool. She glanced back just before the last step, which would take the babe below the surface, and her eyes grew wide.
Fingin turned to see what had made her react and barely ducked in time to avoid the blow from Bodach’s cudgel. He leapt to one side with a cry to escape a second blow. The glare of murderous rage upon the bark-skinned Fae’s face spurred him away.
“You won’t evade me forever, human! I know there’s some secret here. It must have to do with you and the Queen. She wouldn’t help just any mortal escape!”
A flicker of concern passed over the Queen’s expression before she regained control. Bodach pounced upon this clue. “I’m right! I knew it.” He glanced between them, searching their faces for more information. His eyes grew wide, staring at the Queen. “You've got the look of that human! You’re some relation to him!”
Fingin clamped his jaw shut, unwilling to say anything that might give away the truth. Tomnat still stood in the well, clutching her baby tight. Adhna’s face fell, an almost comic expression of defeat. The Queen, however, stood straighter, drawing around her an air of imperious strength, almost tangible in the low light.
“How dare you, Bodach? How dare you accuse your Queen of such low blood?”
If she thought to intimidate Bodach by her show of power, she remained disappointed. Glee bloomed across his bark face, almost cracking at the edges of his mouth. “Oh, I dare, all right! Imagine that! The Queen herself has mortal blood! This is interesting, very interesting indeed. Fascinating.”
The Queen pursed her lips and lifted her arms. The intangible power shimmered before her as she gathered her strength. While Faerie had no storms to manipulate, his grandmother shaped the air itself. A ball of glistening film rose, like a bubble, swirling with white wind inside. Fingin stared into the whirling mass, his vision distorted and dizzying. She flung her arms toward Bodach, sending her creation into his chest.
Age of Secrets: Druid's Brooch Series: #8 Page 21