The Forgotten Trilogy

by Cecilia Randell

  Balor had been one of the strongest of Seth’s children. His strength surpassed anything seen on Earth, his gaze could turn enemies to stone, and he could call the winds. He’d only been defeated at Mag Tuired because the Irish gods finally stepping in, gifting Nuada with a blade designed to kill anything.

  Bat, of course, now knew those blades didn’t kill, but trap.

  She shifted her attention to the raven, who had gone back to simply being a raven. Did the Morrigan expect her to keep this other secret? Did it actually matter?

  It did. Because escaping a prison was much different from returning from the otherworld.

  She’d tell everyone when, well, when everyone was back.

  In the meantime, they had a cauldron to find.

  “Anything?” Oisin asked from the head of the table.

  Bat ignored him. She reached out a finger and touched the shard, running the pad of her index finger over one of the flatter areas, where it had sheared from the main piece. There was a connection there, much fainter than when it had first cut her, but there. The small piece of creation welcomed her, though it was… distracted. It looked for the rest of itself, but more than that, it looked for its children.

  She shook her head. “Anything?” she asked Ari, well aware she echoed Oisin’s words.

  The man of ba ducked his head, bringing it even with the edge of the tabletop. “No, goddess.” His voice was muffled. “Only a general direction, to the northwest. Our connection is clouded.”

  “I think she is confused,” Bat said. “She is looking for too much, and cannot focus on the larger part of herself.”

  “You speak as if it is alive,” Shar said. His hand slid to her lower back and rubbed in slow circles.

  “She is.” Bat leaned back into his touch. Dub had kissed her. Shar still touched her. Mell had continued to smile at her, but his expression promised more. And Finn… he looked at her just the same as he had before Ailis’s little revelation—he’d known those truths all along.

  “What else is she looking for?” Ailis asked, leaning forward.

  Bat ran her finger down the side. “Her children,” she murmured.

  “Well, then we have to help her find them.” Ailis held out her hand. “I assume that’s what the whole blood and cutting thing was about earlier?”

  Understanding the gesture for the invitation it was, Bat picked up the shard and carefully, oh so carefully, pressed the tip to Ailis’s palm. A drop of blood welled and was absorbed by the glimmering stone. Ailis’s eyes widened, the green flashing nearly neon before fading back to her normal emerald.

  “What—” She licked her lips. “What was that? It was as if…”

  “I think it’s everyone she had held within her.”

  “What is this thing? Really?”

  Bat’s cheeks heated. Had she been doing what the others did to her? Assuming they knew what her own Egyptian myths were? There was so much she hadn’t known when she first came to Ireland, guided only by her Idiot’s Guide.

  Is there one for Egyptian history or mythology? Should I pick one up so they can use it? Would it even be accurate?

  “I—”

  Ari lifted his head. “I can tell it, goddess.”

  Bat sent him a grateful smile. “Please. I would just, ummm, balls this up, I am sure.”

  Shar snorted and Oisin made a choking sound.

  Ari squinted, then nodded. He told the tale as she had heard it. How first all there existed were the chaos waters of Nun. And from those waters rose an island, and on the island was an egg. From the egg was born Atum, the first god, and from him the others gods were born—deities that were both the world and of the world, the originals. Shu, who was the air, and Tefnut who was moisture. Geb the Father Earth and Nut the Mother Sky. Osiris and Seth and Isis and Nephthys. And from them came all the rest. But, first, there was the egg. When he was done Ailis made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. Oisin stared at the ba man.

  “That is fascinating,” he said. “I wonder how much of that is universal, or if this was simply the origin of the Egyptian gods? The Greeks definitely have a different story, as do the Christians, though they really only believe in the one god. Hmmm…” He hurried off and returned with a pad of paper, scribbling hurriedly.

  Bat stared. That was the most animated she’d seen this particular sidhe yet, even when they were hunting Grainne, or when Balor’s name came up.

  “Considering the cauldron—vessel—only seems to be seeking those with either Egyptian blood or those who were once—”

  “Born from her.” Bat nodded and bounced in her seat. That made sense. “When the bodies were placed within, and were given new life, that life came from the vessel. They, in essence, became her children. But it wouldn’t work like that, because they already had life. They were not new creations.”

  “It did not always do that.” Ari, too, was shifting excitedly. “Only new beings were born, at her own whim, or when she felt it was necessary. And after the first god, only we—the men of ba—and the fennecs were born.”

  “Foxes?” Ailis snorted out.

  Ari’s head bobbed. “I think she thought they would be cute.”

  A small pulse came from the shard, a warm contentment radiating out. Yes, the vessel had thought they would be cute.

  “So, it’s conscious?” Shar asked, leaning in a bit to eye the stone.

  “Yes?” Bat wasn’t sure how to answer. “She is aware. I do not think she… thinks as we do.”

  Oisin’s hand hovered over the shard. “It wouldn’t. It wouldn’t think like us in any way.”

  “But someone convinced her to grant life in another way,” Bat mused.

  “Probably Balor. She would have known him,” Ari said.

  “So she tried to create, but she could not do a fresh creation, so she tried to restore…”

  Ailis waved a hand. “I’m kind of sorry I asked the question, now. Back to the topic?”

  Bat shifted in her seat. She wanted to jump up, run around the room, maybe do a dance, or maybe hit someone. It really was real. A piece of it sat right in front of her.

  The egg, the vessel. It was real. And broken.

  “Right. Back to the issue. I think we need to reassure her that her ‘children’ are safe. She recognized me. So, I would represent the Egyptian side. Dub is Fomoiri. Mell or Shar could have just as easily done it as well. Maybe because he was the eldest he showed up in my vision?”

  “So, because the de Danann fed their dead to the cauldron when they had possession, she considers them children as well?” Oisin speculated. “Would my blood work?”

  Bat tilted her head. It had been Finn in her vision, but that was next to the whole vessel, not this piece. “We can try…”

  “And why Cu Chulainn?” Shar leaned into her, pressing his shoulder to hers.

  “Hmmmm…” Oisin didn’t take his gaze from the shard. “He is rumored to be Lugh’s descendant, but I don’t know the truth of that. He is also rumored to have Fir Bolg ancestry.”

  Ari nodded. “Yes, the Fir Bolg once held the vessel. It was a brief time.”

  Trust her instincts. That’s what the Morrigan said. And everything in her screamed that she needed to allow the shard to taste both Finn and Cuchi. And only Finn and Cuchi.

  “We will wait for the others to return.” There was something else her instincts were telling her, and her own emotions warred with. “I have a call I need to make.” She stood, Shar’s hand skimming over her hip. Her stomach balled into a tight stone.

  Shar stood as well. “A stor?”

  She tried to smile, but all she achieved was a twitch of her lips. “I will be fine. It is past time I did this.”

  “Who are you calling?” Ailis asked.

  Bat waved her hand, impressed with herself that it was steady. “Someone who may be able to answer our questions.”

  “Right then,” Oisin said. “I may be able to formulate a tracking spell, connecting the two pieces. It usually only w
orks for living things—”

  “Like people,” Ailis interjected.

  “But since the cauldron has a consciousness, it may work. I’ll have to adjust some things…” He scribbled once more in the notebook he’d fetched.

  “We will keep trying as well,” Ari said.

  Bat inclined her head and pulled her phone out. She wandered through the shelves and cases until she found a secluded corner of the library. There was a well stuffed chair and small side-table tucked there, perfect for some quiet reading.

  Or a difficult conversation.

  She’d just settled when Shar appeared. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “I will not leave the library. I’m safe.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. I can guess who you’re calling. I’m not leaving you alone to do that.” He crossed his arms and set his feet.

  She gazed up at him, this giant who was determined to protect her in any way she would let him. A lump formed in her throat and her eyes burned. She wanted to throw herself at him, to snug her head into his chest, and hold on.

  He made her feel safe, she realized. She teased them about wanting to protect a goddess, but the truth was she needed it. She needed to know they were there. That they weren’t leaving her alone…

  “Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you, my giant.”

  His eye gleamed at her. “You are very welcome. Now make your call, and if you need me to maim something, you simply let me know.” He looked down, then met her gaze again. “You really do not mind me listening?”

  “No. I think you, and the others, will need to know these things, eventually.”

  “The ‘others’ being Dub, Mell, and… Finn.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  He nodded, once, a sharp movement. “Okay.”

  That was all. Okay. It seemed Ailis’s words had indeed worked some kind of magic.

  “Okay,” she replied. Her lips twitched again, then curled up in a grin she couldn’t control.

  He thinned his own. “We will probably be wankers.”

  She stared, admiring the way the muscles in his jaw bunched.

  “And I will probably hit them a few times, especially in the beginning. I will try to refrain, but make no promises.”

  He was sounding much too much like Dub, but… She really did like the eye-patch. He looked… dashing. That was the word, right?

  “I won’t like seeing them touch you. I already don’t.”

  Oh, was he flexing? The muscles under his sweater bunched then released, performing a little dance of their own. She wanted to touch…

  “But I will allow it, because I can see you need them as well.” His voice was clipped, a far cry from his normal gentleness.

  Her fingers twitched, remembering the feel of his skin. It was smooth, and softer than she’d thought it would be.

  “And there will be times when I need to be in my garden, or by myself.”

  She bit her lip.

  “But I will make sure one of the others is with you. You will not be left alone.”

  The pressure in her eyes finally won, and a tear spilled over her cheek. Why was she crying? These words were beautiful to hear. And there really was no time for her to break down.

  “We promised you a home, and companionship, did we not?”

  She sucked in a breath and her smile grew. Yes, they had.

  “Make your call. I’ll wait.”

  Chapter 12

  Bastet, you… you CAT. Answer. The. Phone.

  BAT

  Scrolling through the contacts in her phone, the ones Bastet had put there, she found the name she looked for.

  Seth.

  She hadn’t spoken to him in centuries, not even in passing. The image of him walking away came back to her. Just as with Horus, they’d never made any promises. But she’d always thought of Seth as more of a friend, and the sight of his back turned to her hurt in a completely different way than Horus standing there with Hathor.

  She hit the dial button. The little green phone image popped up, and she stared at it.

  “What?”

  The voice was harsh but faint and she hastily put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Bat.”

  There was a heavy pause. “Who?”

  She rolled her eyes. Seth really was an asshole. “Bat.”

  “How did you get this number?”

  “The Cat gave it to me.”

  A snort. “Of course she did.”

  What did that mean? “Seth, we need to talk.”

  “We don’t have anything to talk about. Haven’t for centuries.”

  A dull pain stabbed through her. Then she paused. It didn’t actually hurt as much as she’d thought it would. “No, we haven’t, have we?”

  Silence.

  Fine. “I’m in Ireland.”

  Silence.

  “I just met an intriguing creature named Ari.”

  Silence.

  “And I gathered the pieces of Puchi’s soul, cradling them until I sent them to Anubis.” She was fishing for a reaction and she knew it.

  “They made it to him.”

  “Good.” He still wasn’t really giving her what she wanted. But he also wasn’t hanging up. She’d half expected him to do just that as soon as she told him her name. “I fed my blood to a shard of the vessel of creation, one left over after it had been stolen and the men of ba were slaughtered.”

  A sucked in breath was her only answer.

  “And Balor is trying to use it to resurrect himself, and for who knows what else.”

  “Well, fuck.”

  Hah! That was a reaction.

  “So, why are you calling?”

  Bat frowned. What did he mean by that? “What do you mean, why am I calling? The Fomoiri are your men! The ba men, the vessel, the egg of creation… It’s all real! Why didn’t anyone tell me? Does Hathor know? Of course Hathor knows. She knows everything, because everyone loves her. You had to know I was heading to Ireland. I bet you all had a blast laughing at me behind my back and—”

  “Bat, hush.”

  She sucked in a breath. How dare he? “You don’t get to speak to me like that. Not anymore. You never should have in the first place.”

  Shar’s eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. Bat held up a hand and twisted it, palm out, to stop him. It was a gesture she’d seen from some of the younger humans, though she wasn’t sure she was using it right.

  His lips relaxed then twitched up.

  “The little goddess has grown.”

  The words didn’t have quite the same endearing quality as they did when Shar spoke them. “I need to know what you know of Balor, and how he could use the vessel. And anything you could tell me about why he would be trying to come back. He was your right-hand man, I heard.”

  A snort came through the line. “I haven’t seen the bastard in over six thousand years. If I’d really known him, he’d have come back.”

  Seth’s voice was hard, but she couldn’t help but imagine his expression. There’d be a hint of pinched eyes and turned down lips. Maybe slightly drawn brows, showing a pain he tried to hide.

  “Beware his gaze,” he finally said. “He’s single-minded, ruthless, and willing to make the tough decisions. It’s why I sent him all those years ago.”

  “Did you know…?”

  “That he betrayed us? Yes. I also knew the moment he left this world, and that he wasn’t truly gone. He is my creature, after all.” A pause. “The vessel is no longer ours, not really. We can’t help you.”

  “You mean you won’t. There are still Fomoiri here. Ari and the other men of ba long to return home…”

  “They may return when their duty is done.”

  Bat gritted her teeth. “That was cold, Seth.” Then she sighed. “I know you don’t mean it like that. But, you are also contradicting yourself.”

  Another silence, but it was somehow warmer than the others. Then h
e said, “I’ve missed you. You’re the only one who never looked at me differently, after…” He trailed off.

  “You were the one who walked away.”

  “I know. If—” A muffled noise. “If I asked you to come back, would you?”

  “You were the one who walked away,” she repeated. Every vision that came to her had a reason. Maybe that vision wasn’t to show her Horus and Hathor only. Maybe she needed the reminder of the difference between Seth’s treatment of her, and her not-men. Shar stood before her, looking ready to face down armies—or at least one asshole god—for her.

  And he wasn’t walking away.

  Wait. Seth had been the one to turn his back and walk away. And Seth did not change his mind, did not regret, ever. So why was he asking for her, now, after she’d just told him about Balor, and the vessel?

  “What are you up to?” she asked.

  “You have grown.” Then he hung up.

  She pulled the phone from her ear and looked at the red icon, just to be sure. “Asshole.”

  “What did he do?” Shar demanded.

  “Hung up on me. And he gave me nothing. Not one thing. Just vague god-like ambiguity and no-answers. How do you guys put up with us?” She blew out a breath and stuck out her lower lip.

  He shrugged. “We usually don’t. The Fomoiri and solitary fae have never been ones to follow the gods.”

  “Huh. True.” She pulled up Seth’s number and dialed again. It went to the voicemail. “Seth, you wanker, you better call me back and tell me what I need to know.” Then she scrolled through the contacts, calling and leaving messages for everyone, including Bastet. None of them answered. Also including Bastet.

  She gripped the phone in tight fingers, wanting to throw it at something. But she needed it. It was her only current way of reaching anyone in Egypt except Bastet. Who’d stopped answering her texts, come to think of it.

  Shar held out a hand and she handed him her phone, glad to be rid of the thing. He grinned, slipped the phone in his back pocket, then held his hand out to her again. Ducking her head, Bat allowed him to pull her to her feet.