by N. K. Vir
“Um, Annie if yer feeling up to it Fiona’s laid out some breakfast,” he informed her. “I’d just like a word or two wit Duncan.”
Annie nodded her head and quickly took the escape route Knackers had given her. Duncan’s own stomach growled loudly reminding him that it had been quite a while since he had eaten anything.
“Hungry?” Knackers asked with a knowing grin. Duncan shot him a fierce angry glare that silenced any further comment Knackers would have made.
“Was there a reason you barged in?”
Knackers twirled his pointy goatee between two fingers as he studied Duncan before answering him. When Duncan threw the Wag-by-the-Way an impatient look he finally began to speak.
“Aye,” he began. “I was to come an’ tell ye Finn and Manny,” he said using air quotes as he threw Duncan a wink. “Would like to see ye whenever yer decent.”
Duncan growled menacingly, “And?” He gritted out between clenched teeth.
“Well,” Knackers coughed out. “I’m glad yer well and seem to have retained all yer necessary faculties as I were-“ He never got to finish his sentence as Duncan hurled the first thing at Knackers his hands found which happened to be a vase.
Knackers yelped and quickly dodged the incoming object causing it to hit the wall and shatter. The noise quickly drew Fiona into the bedroom. She tore into the room. Her plump hands rested on her hips a toe tapping agitation as she scowled at Knackers. When he refused to cower under her gaze she wagged a finger under his nose in preparation for a fierce scolding.
“Where are yer manners ye mangy lump of gray fur!” She reached out her hand and seized a hold of one of his pointy ears and gave it a good yank. “Do ye see that mess?” She asked pointing a finger at the shattered glass that lay on the floor. “Ye will clean it all up!”
“But I didn’t do it!” he protested.
“Aye ye did! Ye were the cause. If only it had ‘it yer soft noggin there’d be naught ta clean up!”
Duncan watched the two argue, the ridiculous scene easing some of his anger as Knackers tried and failed to escape his punishment.
“Now,” Fiona said turning her attention to Duncan. “The King and yer father await ye in the backrooms where ye won’t be disturbed.”
Duncan nodded his head and taking a deep breath followed Fiona out of the room leaving a grumbling Knacker to his chores.
Finn and the High King awaited him in the back bedroom. He had passed no one else on his short journey to join them. He knocked politely and waited until he was granted entry; a lesson Knackers needed to re-learn. He wasn’t truly angry at the wag; he was more upset with himself.
“Enter,” bade the High King.
Duncan entered the large brightly lit room. It was devoid of the clutter the other few rooms possessed and contained only a bed, a desk and a few miss matched chairs. The king indicated for him to take a seat, for the moment he refused. His limbs felt restless and stiff. When the king accepted the refusal he motioned for Finn to begin.
“First let me begin by expressing how glad we are to see you healthy and hale,” Finn said with genuine relief. “We almost lost you last night. You seemed to have given up the will to live.”
Those last words were whispered by Finn and colored with agony. Duncan easily forgot how much others cared about him as he often failed to see his own worth. Outside of his battle skills he saw no use to his existence aside from the love he shared with one other person. It had consumed him for such a long time that now he wasn’t sure how to be whole without it, without her. He had tricked himself into believing that as long as she was safe and happy all would be well. It had been a vicious lie.
“The Battle Crow convinced the Queen to release her curse on you,” the king informed him interrupting his self-effacing thoughts.
That answered one of the many questions but presented more. If nothing else he would not leave this room until he had answers. Depending on what he heard, he would then decide his future and chose his own fate.
“Why?” he asked simply. It was the most pressing question and he feared the answer. He feared hearing the words that could condemn him.
“Because she saw better reason and recognized the harm it cause,” the king explained. “Had she not done so you might not be standing before us now.”
“She spared me for future torture then?” he accused.
“No,” Finn replied confused and looked to the king for an explanation.
“He is speaking of something Bres said last night,” the king said directing a hard look at Duncan. “Something that only three sets of ears heard, and for the time being shall remain that way,” the king replied his tone suggesting no argument on the point.
Duncan could not let it go away so easily. Her it was the one thing that could… “Is it true? At least answer me that!” He shouted as his anger bubbled up to the surface.
“Yes,” the king replied quietly. The soft spoke reply knocked Duncan hard, his legs threatening to collapse under him. His arm fumbled for the back of the empty seat as his strength and energy were suddenly drained out of him.
Finn jumped to his feet in alarm and fearing his son had taken a bad turn assisted Duncan into the empty seat. The king remained motionless as the truth finally sunk deep into Duncan. He had been a pawn, a toy, a thing to have fun with and then discard; so much wasted on a lie.
One more question, one more answer to completely seal his fate. “Did she, does she know?”
“No,” the answer came quick and strong. “Only the Queen and I were aware. Somehow Bres discovered it. It was why, and is still why only we know. Somehow he came upon a whispered conversation or rumor and used it to his own ends.”
Hope began to bloom; that most loved and hated emotion. It gave light and life to the most dark and dangerous things and when it failed to grow, when it failed to make good on its promise it hurt more than if had never existed. He refused to let it take root, because the end result would still be the same and in the end cause him more agony than he could bear.
With a quick gesture of his hand he assured Finn that he was fine. “Yer sure yer well enough Duncan?” He asked. Duncan nodded pleading silently for him to retake his seat.
His mind needed clarity, but all he could only think of asking more questions. The king, whose own powers rivaled the Queen’s at searching the mind, delved into his mind. Duncan, in the confused state of his own thoughts could do nothing to stop him.
“There is much that is still unknown so I have few answers. What I can say, what I do know is that Bres is very dangerous and very clever. His attempt to weaken the veil has succeeded. In just a week’s time it will fall completely unless Annie the mortal can be separated from the bhanphriosa.”
Duncan raised his eyes to meet the king’s intensely earnest gaze. “What is it that you are asking?” he said his voice hoarse with emotion.
“Last night you called her name. It should have, and did for a short while, release the life spark. Annie withstood that power and the life spark remained attached to her. I can think of only one other way to call the bhanphriosa outside.”
“That could kill the girl,” Finn stated in horror.
“It could destroy them both!” Duncan spat. “Are you willing to sacrifice them both?”
The king closed his eyes and nodded.
“I will not let that happen,” Duncan vowed.
“She has already agreed to go,” the king informed him.
“When?” Duncan demanded.
“She speaks with the Crow now and has agreed to try provided, of course, that you go with her.”
“And if I refuse?”
The king shrugged one shoulder, “She will go anyways, unprotected and unprepared.”
Duncan spat out a string of curses at his king and friend. He raked an angry, shaking hand through his hair as he debated his answer and next words. The argument was short lived as the king had him pressed tightly up against a wall and he knew it. He knew Duncan’s answer be
fore it left his mouth. What he had not expected, where the last words he uttered before leaving the King’s presence.
“I will accompany her,” he replied quietly. “But,” he added suddenly. “I will attempt to talk her out of it every moment of the journey.”
The king laughed at his declaration. “I have known that human woman for twenty five years and she is nothing if not obstinate. She will follow through.”
“I wasn’t finished my king,” Duncan ground out. “If I fail to change her mind and if so much as a hair on her head is harmed I will personally see that those responsible pay.”
Without waiting for permission to leave he stalked out of the room and went in search of Annie. If he had lingered but a moment longer he would have heard the king crumble. He would have heard the emotion in his words.
“If that were to happen you are welcome to my life.”
Chapter Nineteen
Annie Gets Carried Away
Duncan was irate. The stupid woman did not know what she was agreeing to. His loud footsteps echoed on the bare floor as he stomped his way into the kitchen to find her. He would shake her, terrify her into staying as far away from the fool’s errand she had agreed to. If that failed… Well he hadn’t thought that far ahead.
He found her quietly sipping tea with Fiona and the wise woman. Without uttering a word he ripped the tea from her hand and slammed it on the table. Ignoring the screaming outrage that poured like water from Fiona’s mouth he scooped Annie up and threw her over his shoulder. He carried her to her room and shouted at the still cleaning Knackers to leave. Annie pounded furiously on is back demanding to be put down. Once Knackers vacated the room he kicked the door closed and acquiesced to her demand by throwing her down on the bed.
“You,” he shouted pointing a finger at her. “Will not follow through with this fool hardy errand they have set you on!”
She scurried quickly onto her knees hastily brushing her tangled hair away from her face. She walked on her knees to the edge of the bed and tilted her head up at him to stare back at him defiantly. She crossed her arms and raised her brow at him waiting.
“I mean it Annie. This path leads only to death. I have been a puppet in this game for too long and I will not let them use you as well.” Still she said nothing. Her silence stirred up his anger more than any word she could have uttered.
“Do you know that that stone has been known to kill any usurper who dares to tread on it? I will not take you to your death woman.” He felt and heard his voice crack. “You cannot ask that of me. Ask me anything but that,” he whispered hoarsely. He covered his face with his hands in an attempt to block out the vision of her lifeless eyes staring up at him like a broken doll. The vision was so intense that he shook in fear of it
He flinched when he felt her hands gently try his hand s away from his eyes. “Look at me,’ she commanded softly. He shook his head in refusal and squeezed his eyes shut terrified to open them and see her dead in reality as well as in his mind’s eye.
“Look at me,” she said again. Her breath tickled his mouth. “Feel that? That is the breath of life and it runs strong in this body a chuisle mo chroi.”
He sucked in a ragged breath as the Gaelic words left her mouth. He inhaled them, breathed them in and shook with the emotion they created deep in his soul.
“Where did you learn that?” he asked as his eyes slowly drifted open.
He felt her hands release his and slowly rise up his arms stopping to rest on his shoulders. His hands moved on the own each cupping a cheek. “Like-,”
“Pink roses?” She finished for him.
He held her close and rested his forehead against hers. “I understand none of this,” he admitted.
“Neither do I. And as for her, well I won’t even tell you what she’s thinking about. I swear she has a one track mind where you are concerned.”
He laughed. It felt strange and yet right. He was rewarded by the sound of her laughter. The sound and look on her face inspired his next actions, he needed, no craved just one quick taste of that smile. His tongue flicked out and traced the lines of her smile. Her startled gasp gave him full access to her mouth and he greedily accepted the invitation. His fingers gripped her head tightly, hungrily, holding her exactly where he wanted to continue taking what he needed. She grew soft and compliant molding her body to his and wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him even closer. Where one body ended and the other began in that moment was impossible to tell. Together they were two halves of a complete whole one lost without the other.
His soul accepted this truth, his body demanded more and with restraint he did not know he possessed he reluctantly drew his mouth away from hers. Not willing to accept the parting she clung to him, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth. A feral growl escaped him.
“You play with fire woman,” he muttered against her mouth.
His words seemed to shock her back to reality and she retreated slightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t,” he said as he silenced her with a finger.
She drew in a shuddering breath and smiled against his finger as he traced her lips. “Well, I may have scrambled brains but she appears to be thinking more clearly.”
Duncan snickered in response.
“Shhh,” she said silencing him. “I’m trying to hear her.” He froze anxiously awaiting what would happen next.
She nodded her head as she silently listened to the voice buried inside her. “That woman has a thicker accent than you do. It’s like she struggles to speak English.”
“She does,” he admitted. “Ancient Gaelic is her native tongue. She always found English difficult to master.”
Her quick, sudden intake of air startled him sending his senses into a hyperactive state of awareness as he prepared to defend. “What?” He asked gripping her head tighter. When she failed to respond he gave her head a quick shake until she opened her eyes. “Answer me Annie, what’s wrong?”
“You can’t leave,” she said so quietly that he wasn’t sure he had understood her properly.
“Say it again love, please,” he pleaded almost jokingly.
She shook her head. Whether in denial or to clear her mind he was unsure. He remained still and quiet as he waited for her to repeat herself. She continued to stare at some distant spot that appeared to exist somewhere over his left shoulder. He pulled her close, hugging her, rocking her until she finally spoke.
“You can’t leave, ever, no matter what happens, no matter what is said,” she begged. “Never give up and don’t you leave me.”
“I don’t think I can anymore. I can’t, no matter what obstacle is thrown in my path, stay away from you.” As he whispered the words into her hair he realized that they were true and potentially deadly.
He closed his eyes as the revelation crashed over him. The king had been right there would be no denying her anything she set her mind to. He may have damned them both, but for her, for them he would remain by her side come what may. And that was the most terrifying thought ever to pass through his conscious mind.
Chapter Twenty
Emerald Shores and Misty Lore
They were embarking on a journey, venturing into unknown territory. It had been ages, a time frame left unmeasured by man, since the stone of kings the Lia Fails had been used. The Lia Fails was a king maker, heralding to all the destiny and linage of any worthy soul who dare to tread upon it. For those lucky few the stone deemed worthy lived with the crown of royalty rested upon their brow; for the unlucky and unworthy; death. Instant and final the Lia Fail could grant and take away, as it had once done to Bres.
Bres was a Tuatha de Danann, a Sidhe, he was considered by many in the Seelie court to be the most beautiful of all the Fae. His fair looks and bravery let most forgive him for something he had no control over his parents. Bres was only half Seelie; his mother had made the unforgivable mistake of falling in love with the enemy, with the king of the Formorians, the royal court members of the
Unseelie. Many on both sides saw Bres’ ascension to High King as a path to uniting the Seelie and Unseelie court and for a time his rule was fair and just. Overtime power ate away at the thin layer of benevolence Bres possessed. Darkness grew and the balance shifted sending man and Sidhe alike into the dark times. Terror grew, innocence faded and the world grew heavy with shadow, disease and malevolence.
The Seelie forced him upon the Lia Fail through trickery for its word was absolute. It refused to speak in his favor and lay cold and quiet beneath his feet. Outraged Bres claimed the stone upon which he stood was not the true stone of destiny as many had assumed it had been taken to a new land. In response an explosion of light erupted flinging Bres back to the land of the Formorians and into the darkness where he belonged.
Though, this was not to be the end of Bres.
Many Sidhe thought he had died; that the Lia Fail had erased him from existence, but those with knowledge knew better and prepared for Bres’ revenge upon the Seelie.
Although Bres was gravely wounded his hatred kept him alive and his spirit and injuries were nursed in the dark places that exist in the Otherworld. The Unseelie who had grown bold and strong under Bres’ rule as High King refused to relinquish the throne to the old Seelie court and the second great battle ensued between the Tuatha de Danann and the Fomorian losses on both sides were high. The Tuatha de Danann succeeding to victory only under the rule of the bravest warrior king they had ever known, Lugh. He chased Bres back to the shadows and under his rule peace reigned the veil held strong and true and the memory of the Fae in the natural world began to fade from the memory of man.
Seeing the two worlds in balance Lugh sought to relieve himself of the crown and find peace and solitude, and so the crown was handed down to…
“Me,” Manny finished.
It was a tale Annie had never heard before. She sat awestruck in her tiny kitchen staring at the man/God who she had believed was her father for twenty-five years.