The Silent Goddess: The Otherworld Series Book 1

by N. K. Vir

  Knackers nodded in understanding as Duncan shut the door behind him. A grim feeling settled in his bones. He needed to find Caelia and find out where her loyalties truly lied.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Granting Revelations

  The world slowly returned to normal. Her nightmares slowly faded away forced back by the midday sun as it filtered through her window. The ocean scented air wafted around her, the sound of a bird chirping dragged the last of her sleepy senses awake. Her eyelids opened, and she screamed.

  Her door flew open and three very small people raced into her bedroom. Her eyes flew around the room. They took in the normalcy, her hamper overflowing with clothes, her shabby third hand dresser cluttered with Knick knacks, all seemed normal there. The three faces that filled her room were a different story; two of the three looked normal, well for little people, the third looked way to feline to be real. And was that a tail? A chirping sound drew her attention towards her shattered window. A sparrow sat perched on top of what she could only call a horse head. She lifted one shaky hand to her chest closed her eyes and sighed in relief.

  “No more whiskey it gives me strange dreams,” she muttered rolling over. “Ouch!” she shouted rubbing her stinging backside. She jack knifed upright and glared at the figment of her whiskey induced dream. “Why did you pinch me?”

  Angry brown eyes glared up at her looking ridiculous in the dirty smudged cherub face. Annie glared back as she waited for a reply.

  “Why did ye just pinch ‘er bum?” the cat-like man asked.

  A memory or was it a dream, returned to her then. “Knackers?” She whispered. He nodded his shaggy gray head and flashed a brilliant white smile before sweeping into a low bow. “Oh my God!” she gasped. “It’s all real? It really happened?” She quickly glanced around the room and three, make that four heads nodded. There was still a horse standing outside her window; for some strange reason that bothered her the most. “Why is there a horse in my garden?”

  “Tis not a horse,” the pinching cherub informed her. “Tis a Grant,” she said as if that explained everything.

  Annie slowly stood. Keeping her eyes on the intruders she cautiously approached the Grant/horse. She bent over slightly to get a better view. Big Gray-green eyes watched from the horse face. His fur was a beautiful shade of silvery white. He tilted his head to the side to dislodging the sparrow and allowing Annie a better look. He looked like a magnificent unicorn, minus the horn, and with a couple of extra legs thrown in.

  “Do you have a name too?” she murmured into his twitching ear.

  “Devin,” he said loudly; his booming voice startling her. She scurried backwards her legs tangling in her robe she fell, hard on her already sore backside.

  “Devin,” Knackers admonished. “The lass is spooked enough.” Annie gave Knackers a grateful look and noticed the third member of the party in her room was cowering behind Knackers.

  “Tis Rian an’ I am Fiona,” the pincher explained. “Rian’s a Brownie, Knackers a Wag-by-the-way, Devin’s a Grant, an’ I, I am a Bean Tighe,” she said pulling herself up to her full four foot height. “Now,” she said putting her small fists on her round hips. “Get up, let’s get ye cleaned, dressed an’ fed. There be lots to discuss a fore Duncan returns.”

  The stern look on her face had Annie jumping to her feet and rushing to obey. Fiona clapped her hands and shooed everyone out. She strode to the window and shut the curtains blocking out the Grant. Annie scratched at her left wrist, Fiona caught her, tsking as she pulled Annie’s hand away.

  “All the stories?”

  “Hush lassie,” Fiona said softly. “Don’t frown ye’ll mar that bonnie face.” She rubbed away the frown that was beginning to form between her eyes.

  “You remind me of Kat,” Annie said absently as she grappled with a new reality.

  Myths were real.

  Every faerie tale her father had ever told her was real. Little folk, the Fae, all of it was real. When she was little she had believed every bedtime story about the little folk who dwelled in the hills. She would giggle in delight at the stories her small eyes round with awe. The Fae were honest, and helpful to those in need. They loved music and dancing.

  They came in all shapes and sizes, some were fair and beautiful, and some were not. Most were shy and proud but had good hearts. But some were cruel and evil; like that hideous Redcap.

  Annie gasped. “The Redcap, he was here wasn’t he?”

  Fiona sealed her lips together and nodded. “Took almost all the wise woman had to suck the iron out of ye it did.” Fiona said as her eyes drifted to Annie’s itchy left wrist.

  “Iron?”

  “Aye, tis poisonous to the Sidhe. But,” she said giving Annie’s arm a gentle pat. “I’ll not’ be getting’ ahead of me self. Let’s get ye fixed up then we can have a chat.”

  No matter what question Annie threw at her Fiona refused to answer. When Annie was dressed and fed Fiona and Knackers settled into chairs next to her. Rian, the Brownie, was nowhere to be seen and Devin had long since let his post to scout for danger. Her first questions were about Devin. She couldn’t recall a story about a Grant.

  “Grants are rare,” explained Knackers. “Can only recall having ever met one, an’ that was nigh seventy years ago.”

  Knackers went on to explain about Grants. They were guardians once of small villages. If their village was every threatened they would race through the street alerting dogs, who in turn would alert their human masters. Salem had apparently adopted a Grant sometime around its conception. Devin claimed to have saved so many citizens in his almost four hundred year reign as guardian that they had named a beach after him. Annie didn’t think Dead Horse Beach had anything to do with Devin, but at this point she wasn’t sure about much.

  “Alright that explains Devin, but where is Rian?”

  “Rian’s shy let’s leave it at that,” Fiona said looking mildly uncomfortable. Brownies, by nature, were notoriously shy and only had one fear, cats. Rian’s whereabouts were not very important at the moment so Annie decided to focus on the other Fae she had encountered that morning.

  “So a Redcap attacked me this morning why?” she asked.

  Fiona deferred to Knackers as she busied herself with making a pot of tea. Annie thought it was too warm for tea but Fiona waved her off.

  “The Redcaps are evil little beasties,” Knackers began.

  Annie held up a hand to silence him. “I know what Redcaps are.”

  It was one of the stories from her youth that Annie had tried to forget. For months she had been convinced that a Redcap lived in her closet. She swore she could see its glowing eyes staring at her in the darkness. A shiver of dread swept through her at the memory.

  Her father would race to her room called from his own sleep by her terrified dreams. He would stand before her room arms outstretched and chant nonsensical words at her closet door than turn and wink at her. He always kept the monsters away. The little girl in her wished he was here now and that his magic was real.

  “Well this one’s particularly nasty. Pete may be daft but he was right about Giles,” Knackers said snapping her back to the present. She had been so lost in her childhood nightmares that she almost missed two very important names.

  “Giles, as in Giles Corey?” she asked stunned.

  “Aye, yer ghostie is really a murdering Redcap,” Knackers explained.

  “But I thought they only lived in old castles. How did a red cap survive for so long in Salem?” Fiona asked. “Are ye sure it tweren’t the Unseelie who sent him?” The kettle whistled for attention and Fiona turned to answer it. She quickly filled three mugs and settled herself back at the table.

  “Aye it’s possible but the legend around these parts has sighted Giles for quite a while now. Redcaps usually haunt old castles aye, but they also love-“

  “Dungeons, gaols and jails,” Annie said as realization hit her hard. A curt nod from Knackers had Annie reeling as he confirmed her statemen
t. “A Redcap in the old Salem jail,” she said voicing her inner thoughts. “Are the legends about them true?” she asked swallowing hard.

  Fiona and Knackers exchanged a worried glance. The air grew thicker with the building tension. Annie didn’t need the answer, she knew. Legends always managed to bolster and fluff the merits and the goodness of the hero, they never lied about the inherit evil that existed. The legend of the Redcap was truth and probably much worse than anyone dared give truth to. Redcaps were akin to vampires but much worse. Redcaps were called Redcaps for a reason. Their tams or hats were colored red from the human blood they dipped them in. They were like quicksand, terribly fast, deadly and clever. They had the ability to lead grotesque armies of nightmare like creatures who only sought the kind of victory death could bring. If a Redcap had its sights set on Annie there was very little she could do to prevent becoming its next victim.

  As if reading her thoughts Knackers tried to sooth her terror. “Ye’ll no’ be alone.” He laid a hairy hand on top of hers; she found his sage green eyes and attempted a weak smile.

  “He’s got the right of it,” Fiona added encouragingly.

  Annie sucked in their confidence as a sleeping tired voice muttered in her overwrought brain through the haze and confusion of the last few days one word, one name repeated consistently in her mind; Duncan.

  A loud popping sound drew her overloaded mind outside of itself. Her ears focused first, followed by her eyes. A warrior stood in front of her; his dark eyes shining with confidence. A small smile grew into a full grin as she took in his armor and weapons.

  His broad barrel chest and back were wrapped in polished metal that gleamed and flashed under the sun’s setting rays. He held a dagger in the palm of his hand with determination that matched the glint in his eyes. His dark head was topped with a steel bowl shaped helmet his chin held up high as he dared anyone to try and attack the damsel he was sworn to protect.

  Annie’s heart thudded in her chest as her eyes took in the sight of the warrior who would die to protect her. For a moment she forgot about her new dangerous reality and soaked in the confidence this beautiful warrior before he exuded. If he could be brave then she could too.

  “Rian, is that a mixing bowl upon yer head?” Fiona asked in shock.

  “An’ two more strapped to yer chest?” Knackers questioned barely containing his laughter.

  “I think you look glorious,” Annie gushed. Rian’s chin lifted slightly higher as he winked at her.

  “He’s got a butter knife for a dirk,” Knackers pointed out as a cackle of a laugh escaped him.

  Annie quickly jumped to her feet as Fiona swatted at Knackers. Annie ran to room and searched the disheveled contents quickly and returned clutching the letter opener she had flung at the Redcap earlier that day. She knelt down in front of the shy Brownie who had begun to wilt under Knacker’s laughter. She raised a hand to his face and cupped his tiny cheek.

  “If I may this might prove more deadly than the sword you carry,” she said offering him the small letter opener like it was a rare and powerful sword. “This sword has already pierced his evil hide and has been enchanted with powerful magick.”

  “Ye knew it were enchanted then?” Knackers asked.

  “Oh I knew Griffin said it was. At the time I never put much credit into it though,” Annie replied.

  Rian’s small broad palm gratefully accepted the gift. A grin that reminded her too much of another man kicked up the corners of his mouth. She placed a chaste kiss on his ruddy cheek in thanks and his grin broadened into a wide toothy grin. He laid a hand upon his heart and bowed his head towards Annie in a gracious manner that made her feel like a faerie princess kneeling before a prince. He sheathed his newly acquired sword in his worn leather belt and nodded once to Fiona and once to Knackers before he popped out of sight.

  Her tiny Brownie had given her room to hope. The voice, the part of her that she had kept locked, chained and silent, rose to the surface as she spun around to face Fiona and Knackers. A crazy but well thought out plan formed in her mind as she struggled to weigh out every pro and con. She would need all the help she could get her mind argued with itself. But if everything she was thinking was right it just might work.

  “I doona like that look upon yer face lass,” Knackers muttered.

  A wicked smile played upon her lips as she spoke, “Are there more of the Seelie about?” Her voice, but not her voice asked.

  “Aye,” Knackers replied warily.

  “Good,” she said with a regal nod. “Gather them, because I have the most absurd idea.”

  “Duncan’s gonna have me hide but I’m listening,” Knackers grumbled.

  Annie laid out her plan as Knackers and Fiona listened. A fire she did not know existed lit in her belly as words and ideas she herself was shocked she uttered escaped her mouth. Knackers listened, wide-eyed and respectfully; Fiona however gasped in horror her hand fluttering between her heart and her head as she listened. When Annie was done and her hidden voice was tired and spent and Annie herself sat back in shock. Her skeptical mind set was at war with the reality she had witnessed. For years she had tried to neatly box the unexplainable with increasing difficulty. Born and raised on myth she never thought that it could become truth. For too long she had shunned the history, not myth, but history her father had tried to teach her. If only he was here now, he would have reveled in this.

  “See Annie,” he would say, the light lilt of his Irish accent shining through. “History and legend are not so far apart.” His bright blue eyes, so much like her own would shine with knowledge the ages had forgotten. His dark hair would fall over his forehead as he looked down at her. “You remind me so much of your mother. Grab hold of her strength now, you know she’s never far. But only say her name when you have need of her. For names carry power.”

  “But how will I know when to call her Da?” Her childlike voice asked knowing very well she was never to utter her mother’s name.

  “You will know my princess. It will hit you here,” he said pointing to her heart as her childish belly laugh bubbled out of her. “And then the skies will open,” he said opening his mouth wide. “And your enemies will…drop,” he said as his fingers tickled her belly and her own peals of laughter drowned out the playful memory she had long forgotten.

  “Aye,” Knackers mused scratching his long goatee. “If the fair folk come it might work.” His voice dragged Annie from the past.

  “Are there truly that many here?” Fiona asked.

  “Aye,” Knackers replied nodding absently. “I’ve to find Duncan. Where’d that Grant go?”

  Annie narrowed her eyes and leveled Knackers with a glare. Her mind was racing with recent revelations she had forgotten, however briefly about him. “Why do you need to find him?”

  “Oh dear,” Fiona exclaimed as her hand flew to her mouth. “He never told ye, did he?”

  “Told me what?” Annie managed to grind out through her clenched teeth. Images of stolen embraces and quick passionate kisses played in her mind’s eye. A warming sensation flooded her veins as she felt him buried deep within her soul. In that intense moment she remembered. Her mind reveled against the impossible but her heart knew the truth. Words, feelings and emotions bubbled and frothed deep within her. But only one word managed to break free. Her lips and memory both new and old debated the word, the name and like a ragged cry it tore out of her throat and became spoken truth. “Oisin!”

  “Aye,” Fiona acknowledged softly. “Though now tis more myth than truth.”

  Duncan sat quietly studying the creature of betrayal that sat opposite him in the darkened pub. At one time she had been beautiful and regal; her allegiance unquestionable. Time had eroded everything. The husk of a human she had chosen to encase her tainted soul in sat provocatively across from him a knowing fake smile etched on her perfectly shaped and equally sinful mouth. Duncan smiled back at her barely containing his own hatred. This creature had been his ultimate friend and ultima
te betrayer. Even with the chance to escape her own prisons she toyed with him. Whether unwilling or unable she refused to choose a side.

  In disgust he shoved himself away from the scarred wooden table and away from her. She shot to her feet and captured his head between her two gracefully manicured hands. She lowered his head to her red painted lips and at the last possible moment twisted her head to whisper seductively in is ear. He heard her breathy proclamation as his eyes found the furious gaze of Kat flanked by Griffin and Robert. His eyes took in the sight and knew without a doubt that he was damned.

  His hands clenched into fisted claws as he reached up to pry Mandy’s hands away from his face. He knew what it looked like, and she had meant it to seem that way.

  A seductive wench to the end she had played him well. Knowing nothing from this viper’s mouth could speak truth he tore her hands away from him. With a crushing grip he squeezed the delicate bones of her mortal shell’s wrists hoping she would feel the physical pain.

  “You have damned her,” he spat as his angry grip intensified.

  “No,” she winced as the physical manifestation of her pain intensified in her eyes. “I have given you the key by which to free her.”

  He relished the sound her fragile mortal bones made as they cracked and broke under his forceful grip. He shoved her away from him. She landed almost gracefully on the wooden stool behind her. Her golden brown eyes shining with rage and another emotion Duncan failed to recognize as his own rage over took him. His vision blurred as everything took on a hazy red tinge. His anger rode him hard as he dragged in deep heaving breaths in an attempt to calm the battle lust that threatened his sanity.

  “Don’t fight it Dark Warrior,” Mandy chuckled.

  Duncan’s eyes flew to her as the mortal form Caelia had assumed transformed into the visage of the Battle Queen. Her victorious eyes morphing and changing before him, her face stretching as her painful grimace turned into a knowing smirk. “Hold that rage and use it,” she commanded in a powerful voice that had him struggling to stay on his feet.