All three brothers shrugged, including Shar. The movement rocked her, and the only thing that kept her on the stool was his embrace. “He was a leprechaun. It’s what they do.” Dub reached for her berries and she slapped his hand away. He gifted her with a twitch of his lips.
“Leprechaun. Huh. But not a god. And what are you?” She plucked up the second to last strawberry and held it up to Shar, her head tilted back to see his face.
The giant took it with a smile for her and a smirk for his brothers. “We are Fomoiri.”
The name sounded familiar. “And Ailis? You mentioned trooping fae? Fairies, right? Is that why she has green hair?” She eyed the last strawberry then sighed. She was a generous goddess. She picked up the knife she’d used to spread butter on her bread and cut the berry in half. She held the first portion out to Mell.
He took it from her with a small burst of appreciation. “Ailis has green hair because she dyes it that color. And the trooping fae are... what we call the more gregarious of the sidhe.”
“Shee?” She plucked up the last half and, hesitating only for a moment, offered it to Dub. See, she was a very generous goddess. She’d shared her strawberries, even with the crazy grumpy one.
“Sidhe.” Dub took up the explanations as he took the fruit from her. “Another name for the de Danann. But, Fae can also be a general term for all the immortals.” He bit into his piece of fruit and licked his lower lip.
She stared at that lip and her heart sped. Her belly clenched, and she crossed her arms over her middle, not because she was cold—how could she be with Shar’s arm still around her?—but because she didn’t know what to do with them. It had been how long since her last fertility rite? Other than the time with Seth and Horus, it had to have been at least before the uniting of the kingdoms.
Brows pinching together, Dub leaned toward her. “Are you having another vision?”
Heat bloomed on her cheeks. “No.” She sat up straight, putting a few centimeters between her back and Shar. For a second she thought he would pull her back, but his arm dropped, and he took a half step back. She very deliberately avoided looking at Mell, for surely, he had sensed her moment of desire.
“Right... so, we need to find this soul blade, and then we will find the murderer, yes?” Had she read about a soul blade? And... Fomoiri? “Actually, I’d like to consult my Idiot’s Guide. Bastet got it for me, and it has been a wonderful resource. It even talked about Sidhe and Fae, I just did not know that was how the words were pronounced.” Eager to get her book guide, she slid off her stool.
“Idiot’s Guide.” Dub’s eyes widened, and his shoulders jerked. He was laughing at her again.
Well, this time he could choke.
She nodded, firm. “Yes. It has many good things in it and has been extremely useful for figuring out your confusing culture. It even had a section on your holy man, the Saint Patrick. I quite like him. Now, if you... cretins will excuse me, I will fetch it from my room.”
Chapter 8
Bast,
They are curious creatures here. Did you know there are things called Immortals that are not truly immortal, nor are they gods? Like the griffon, but they are not animals. And there are so many kinds!
- Bat, the goddess who is a little less confused.
p.s. They keep giving me strawberries, and they are better than anything Hathor could hope to get her hands on.
BAT
By the time she returned to the kitchen, Bat had decided some things.
Yes, she was a visitor, but she was also a goddess. She didn’t want to trespass, but she deserved answers. After she went through her guide, any questions it did not answer she would insist these brothers answer. They could argue it was none of her business. But it was. It was her business. Early in her existence, one of her many duties had been to help Ma’at maintain the balance against chaos.
And Dano had given her boots. He was now one of hers.
So, what was a forgotten goddess to do when she was presented with an opportunity to embrace a role once again?
She decided who she would be and then reinvented herself.
So many aspects from which to choose; so many different roles she had played through history. They were all part of her.
What did she want to be now?
She would be the balance. For her small slice of the world, she would push back the threat of chaos, and she would bring order and justice. Even if it was just for a small man, a leprechaun, who should not have died.
Because even if only for a few hours, he had been one of hers.
Bat paused at the doorway and drew in a breath, ready to demand the brothers stop being secretive and fill her in fully. Except there was no one in the kitchen.
They abandoned me? The old hurt tried to creep in and she shoved it aside. Not the time. Never the time, now. She was leaving all those doubts behind. Bastet said she had a complex about abandonment. Well, maybe she did have whatever that was—Bastet couldn’t really define it well—but now Bat was starting anew. I just have to keep reminding myself of that.
She stepped fully into the kitchen. Movement beyond the window over the sink caught her attention.
All three of them were out in the garden. Shar bent over the strawberry bush and plucked more berries. And... did she just see the bush wave at him? It was hard to sense, the earth aspects more often reserved for the gods, but the plant seemed happy to give him its fruits.
Heh. I’d give him my fruits. She snorted. Now she was channeling Bastet. The fact was, she’d give any of them her... fruits.
She shook off the errant thoughts. Maybe when she was done delivering justice to a murderer...
Dub stood at the end of the garden closest to the alley, arms crossed, once again frowning. He looked a bit like Seth. Not his features, he was much more handsome, but he had that same general dissatisfaction. Unlike Seth, he had shown her another side, one with humor, even if it had been at her expense.
Mell was in the far corner, the one she couldn’t quite see but had wanted to inspect. If she craned her head, she could just make out the edge of his bent over form as he worked. “Dub, you could always come help,” he said.
“No.” Dub held his arms closer to his middle, causing the muscles to bunch under his sweater.
“You’re not going to break them.” Mell bent over farther, and she lost sight of him.
Dub shrugged.
“It was only the once.” Mell’s voice grew muffled, though she could still hear it just fine.
“Leave him alone. If he doesn’t want to work in the garden that’s fine. In fact, he’s actually respecting my territory.” Shar plucked another berry, examined it and nodded, placing it in the small basket he held.
“Unlike me, you mean.”
“I did not ask either of you to come out here with me.” The words were calmly stated, but a new tension entered his tone.
The garden was Shar’s? It should have been surprising, but it... wasn’t. The big not-man had a nurturing soul. Fomoiri. She gripped her idiot’s guide, and though she wanted to open it and look for references, something kept her attention on the scene outside.
“We wanted to help.” Mell’s cheerful tones seemed amiss.
“And neither of you are.”
Mell straightened, and she could just see the edge of his shoulder and the tangle of his messy hair. “I’m helping. See?” He held out a small bundle of roses, the new blooms a mix of pink and red.
Shar twisted toward him and frowned. “I wouldn’t pick those. They shouldn’t be blooming right now.”
“Got pixies in the garden?”
“Don’t call them that, you know they don’t like it. And, I don’t know what I have. Which is why you need to leave the bush alone until I can figure it out.” The larger brother turned back to the strawberries and ran his hand over the leaves. They definitely waved back that time.
“They’re another offering.” Dub’s voice cut through the air, and the plants trembled. H
is frown turned into a scowl, and he took a half step back. “Like the boots. Damn locals are giving offerings to the new goddess.”
They were? They liked her? Dano’s gift was understandable. They had played music together. But the others... She needed to find out who this other being was, this pixie. If they were to be one of hers, then she needed to know them. A smile spread across her face.
She hadn’t come here looking for believers, but she wouldn’t turn them away either.
Mell spun to face Dub. “You don’t know that.” A thread of fear, quickly squashed, leaked from him.
“It seems obvious to me.” Dub’s voice deepened to a growl.
Shar wove his way through the planting beds, touching a plant here, another there, until they seemed to glow with green and health. He paused by Dub. “We’ll get it sorted.” Then he called out, “Mell, get you and those bedamned flowers out of my garden.”
Bat pulled away from the window, her cheeks heating, and hurried to her seat at the island. She busied herself opening the guide and turning to the index. It was silly to be embarrassed about listening in on them, but for some reason, she didn’t want them to know she watched. The kitchen door opened and the brothers trooped in, filling the space and overwhelming her for a moment with their presence.
“I got it.” She held up the guide with a bright smile. They all paused in unison, held like statues for a bare second, then silently continued to whatever tasks they had assigned themselves. Dub went into the pub area and returned with two more stools. Shar went to the sink and ran the new berries under water. Mell grabbed a glass vase from the top shelf of the open cupboard and placed the flowers inside. Dub went to fetch one more stool, returning just as Shar set a newly filled bowl of fruit in front of her while Mell set the flowers in the middle of the island.
“For you.” Dub’s deep tones sounded in her ear as he sat beside her.
Bat reached for a strawberry, and if her hand trembled just the slightest, she ignored it. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome.” His hand snaked over her arm, and he snatched her idiot’s guide from in front of her. “Now, let’s see what we’ve got here.”
She bit her bottom lip as he flipped through the book with its bright orange cover, his mouth twitching occasionally. Shar nudged the bowl of berries, reminding her to eat, and she nibbled on the one she held.
Mell started humming under his breath, a fast tune, but somehow sad, like so much of the music here was.
“I didn’t see anything on Fomoiri in there.” She wanted to break this silence and get on with finding Dano’s killer. How were they so calm about this? “Or soul blades. But, I just checked the index, there may be more buried inside, especially in the little bubbles.”
Dub closed the book and set it before her. “I don’t think you’re going to find what you need in there. It’s mostly speculation, and they have a lot of the history mixed up.”
“He’s still bitter about the whole Cu Chulainn thing,” Mell said.
“Cu... Chulainn? Is this another of the words where the pronunciation does not match the spelling? What happened with him?” she asked, once again sidetracked.
“Other than the fact that he’s a lying braggart and made off with Dub’s intended then didn’t even marry her? Not much.” Mell spread his arms wide and gestured grandly. “Per the history books we were raiders come to steal her as tribute, and he slew us in a mighty battle.”
Bat stared at him for a full five seconds. “Does any of this have to do with Dano?”
Mell dropped his hands and shrugged. “Maybe. But I doubt it. Cuchi doesn’t come around here often.”
“We need to find the killer.” She shot a glare at Mell. “Then we can discuss your weird names and confusing history.” She tapped the island top with her fingers. “So, what is a soul blade, and why are the pieces of Dano’s soul gone?”
Mell took a seat on one of the stools across from her. “Please, allow me to be your idiot’s guide to the fae side of Ireland.”
Dub snorted. “Well, the idiot part is right.”
“Hush, you cancrach.” Mell turned back to Bat as Shar grinned. “He’s a grump, ignore him. I am perfectly capable of being your guide.”
Bat tilted her head. “If you will take the place of my book, then can you please explain a soul blade to me? And... everything else that could help with Dano. The rest can wait. Though, maybe also why you are afraid that someone has made offerings to me. But first, the soul blade.”
Mell sobered and nodded. He glanced at his brothers then focused on the island top. “A soul blade is the only way an immortal can be killed.”
Bat frowned. There was that term immortal once again. Maybe she didn’t understand yet. “A god or goddess cannot be killed. Not truly. Therefore, they are immortal. Even Osiris, with all the fuss that was made, was simply moving into the next role of his existence, he was not actually killed. That the process was more brutal than he liked, well…” She shrugged.
In a way, she understood the human’s need to use the terminology of death and afterlife. It was a way to bring comfort to their end, to make the stories familiar and relatable. Of course, then the pharaohs began appropriating the rituals for themselves… But the people had eventually reclaimed them, if in an overly complicated and bizarre manner.
“He was not killed,” she said again. “Dano was, and thus he is not an immortal god.”
“Ahhh. An immortal, not a god,” Mell clarified.
She sighed. He was saying these were not the same thing. “But, if Dano was killed, then he is not immortal. Your terminology needs work.” But this was also not something important to the current hunt for a murderer, only for her understanding of the situation.
“Yes.”
Bat waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she offered him a berry.
He took it from her with a small smile. “A bribe?”
She shrugged. “You stopped talking.”
“So, you gave me a berry.”
“Yes, but it is one of my berries, so it should be an adequate offering for you to tell me more.”
Dub let out a low sound that she couldn’t quite interpret and Shar frowned. “Does everything come down to sacrifices and offerings and bribes for you?”
“Most of the time, yes, of course. I do not understand why this upsets you?” She looked between Shar and Dub, trying to interpret their expressions. She reached out to sense their feelings, but they were murky and confused.
“And... back to soul blades.” Mell pulled her attention back to him. “At least here in Ireland, and through most of the Celtic lands, those who are not gods, who do not derive their power from believers, are termed immortals. We have powers as well and do not die of age, illness, or injury, but our powers are finite, neither growing nor shrinking with belief. And we can be killed, but it takes a soul blade.” He drew in a breath and looked to Dub.
Bat turned her head to the not-man beside her. This... immortal. She had thought the only immortals were gods. Because in Egypt, they were. Even the Sphinx was a goddess, though a minor one.
She searched her memory. “Like... the griffon?” There were some creatures, considered monsters, who had made their way to her land from other countries and continents. The griffon was one such creature, and they had settled nicely in her home. They did not die, either, though they were more animal—or pet—than thinking beings. She’d only heard of one dying, in a battle a millennium ago, at the hands of a god wielding a dark blade… Ohhh.
“That can be one example.” Mell bit into the berry and chewed slowly, licking a drop of juice from his lower lip.
“Hmmm... the griffon does not die from age. Neither does the Aani.” She could count on her fingers the number of Egyptian “immortals” that were not gods, and every single one of them was a creature. It was something to think upon. “So, Dano was like the griffon?”
Mell chuckled. “He would have liked that. Dano, the mighty war beast of the sands, slay
ing the enemies of his goddess.”
“And back to the explanations or we will be here all day,” Dub cut in. “Most soul blades operate by absorbing the essence of the person they are used on. It is a very old form of sacrifice and worship that has fallen into disfavor. The blades are owned and guarded over by the gods. Or, our gods. We try to stay out of the politics of it. I do not know how they are crafted, nor do I care to.”
“So, a god killed Dano?” It would fit with what she had heard of the griffon. “How will we narrow it down?” How many gods did they have here exactly? “Wait. The guide, it talked about the de Danann, it said they were considered gods. And some of the fae as well, and… We should make a list.” She braced her palms against the island, ready to run up to her room for pen and paper, when Dub laid a hand over hers, keeping her where she was.
“Again, the guide was written by idiots. There are only a few true gods in Ireland, and most don’t spend much time here, preferring their fancy homes in England and Germany. The rest of us, including the damned de Danann, are immortals.”
“Well, that narrows the list considerably.”
“No, you’re not following. A lann de anam can be wielded by anyone.”
Horror filled her. “It could be anyone…”
“I did find this in his hand.” Mell reached into his pocket and pulled out a small ring.
It was an intriguing design. Two hands, clasping a heart with a crown. It looked familiar. “It’s a claddagh. I know this one, it is a marriage ring.” She turned to Dub and raised a brow. “I read it in my book.”
Dub matched her raised brow and turned to his brother. “Does Finn know about this?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “So, we have a secret love interest, unless Dano told you something?”
Mell shook his head. “There was also this.” He pulled up an image on his phone and laid it on the table.
It looked like a print of some kind. Similar to an antelope, or even a barbary. “Your livestock roams in the city?” She didn’t recall seeing any yesterday, but maybe that was simply because they were kept away for the celebrations?
The Forgotten Trilogy Page 6