The Park Family: Mairi: Retribution

by Lisanne Valente

  King Finvarra and Queen Oonagh stood beside the Mistdreamers and their husbands, to welcome the Angels.

  Finvarra leaned into Oonagh and whispered, “They definitely know how to make an entrance.”

  Oonagh gave a slight nod, the corners of her lips turned up, but she looked to her toes, in order to keep the outward signs of propriety.

  Mairi clung to Appoloin. It was all becoming too much for her. She knew this was the ending to their story, and she was overwhelmed.

  It wasn’t just the magic of the room, or the fact it was filled with Angels, Dragons, Witches, Mistdreamers, and the Fae. It was their lifetime mission, at last coming to the fruition the Angels had sought for them.

  She noticed Omniel nervously searching around him and wondered what was amiss, until she saw the three Archangels step forward.

  Seere, Forcas, and Appoloin could not stop their mouths falling open, especially when the Archangels, Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel, dressed in full battle gear, got down on one knee in front of their wives, placing their shields on the floor.

  They held their swords against their faces and looked down as though in prayer.

  “I ask of you Mistdreamers, that you allow us to complete the mission we, as Angels, requested of your forefathers,” said Gabriel.

  “That you grant us permission to walk into battle with you,” Raphael spoke softly.

  “And to thank you for your years of loyal service in the dangerous tests you carried out, in order that we avoid another war.” Michael looked up and stared into the Mistdreamers’ faces, one by one.

  They all saw it at the same time. They got the vision of an Angel with autism, smiling and laughing as his coffee pots hissed and bubbled.

  “It’s you, Michael!” they said in unison, and Michael’s grin spread across his face, as it had done when handing over their drinks.

  “It is good to see you all again, and to know that you are safe with the loves in your life.”

  Seere, Appoloin, and Forcas laid their hands on their wives’ shoulders. How had Michael been able to hide his identity from them? But then, it was the Archangel Michael, the Angel of Miracles.

  Omniel cleared his throat from behind the Archangels, and they melted away, to the astonishment of Mairi.

  “They’re still here,” Appoloin whispered.

  “Let me introduce to you, Mistdreamers… the Infidelibus. The band of Angels who have done their best to protect and go through Mistdream with you.”

  Lauren glanced at Forcas, who shrugged his shoulders.

  “You already know Forcas, Seere, and Appoloin. Appoloin remains as one of us, but Forcas and Seere no longer are able to be within the group. They are better served protecting you in the forms of humans.” Omniel took a breath before continuing.

  “Hi, Elemiah.” Valerie waved when she saw him standing near Omniel.

  He laughed out loud. “Hi, to you Mistdreamers. You have sent me on a very merry dance.”

  Omniel cleared his throat again. “Crmm, Crmm. Elemiah you have met. He is an Archangel, and he has many other duties, but helps the Infidelibus and so has an honorary membership, if you like.”

  “I would wish to speak with our leader, Manannán mac Lir,” King Finvarra said gruffly.

  “I no longer lead the Fae, Finvarra,” Elemiah said gently. “I am the Tree of Life and lead those to their destinations. Their leaders become those chosen by the people, and the people chose you, Finvarra,” Elemiah said wisely.

  The three queens of the Fae and his wife agreed with fervour.

  Dragging his eyes from Finvarra, he jokingly asked of Omniel, “Membership? I like that, do I get to turn in my card soon?”

  Omniel’s eyes widened, and Elemiah looked away as though embarrassed, but the whole act was duly noted by Mistdreamers, husbands, and irate fathers.

  “To continue,” Omniel said quickly, “let me introduce you to, not only a new member of the Infidelibus, but also a newly made Angel.” Turning, he gestured for someone to move forward.

  “Let me introduce to you the The Angel of Temperance, Cassiel.

  “The Angel Iuchar, step forward,” he insisted.

  “The Angel Fiacha. These are our three newest Infidelibus,” Omniel said proudly.

  Valerie wanted to rush forward and hug them. It had been a day full of emotions, when they had left her. To see Cassiel, handsome and healthy… and an Angel! He became aware of her eyes gazing at him, and, smiling, he went to her and hugged her, ignoring the foul looks being cast his way from Seere. They only made him laugh.

  “Let us get on with this,” Omniel said impatiently.

  “I think you know the rest of us,” Sammael stepped in, recognising Omniel’s change of voice.

  “Adramelechk, your mist, Mairi. Sammael, your mist, Valerie. Ramiel, whom you know is your mist, Lauren, and a lot more.”

  Lauren blinked from where she stood with Forcas, into Ramiel’s arms. He was her biological father, and she knew he loved her.

  Queen Aobhil grew weary. “Omniel, are you finished with the introductions of all the Angels?”

  She had only just uttered that last word when Raphael stood before her. “You wish to question our messenger, Aobhil?” His eyebrow raised, he waited for her response.

  “I apologise, Raphael, but if we are to go to war, surely standing around here introducing one another is not the best way to go about it.”

  “You wish to plunge into the darkness and start to kill, is this what you are telling us?” Gabriel said as he appeared beside Raphael. “Would you not rather know who stands beside you?”

  “Would you not prefer to have a battle plan?” Michael asked, shocked at Aobhil’s attitude. “It is no wonder that the four Angels of Death have just appeared,” added Michael.

  Aobhil gasped when she saw the four Angels glide into the room and land beside the Infidelibus.

  The air changed from one of interest to one of dread.

  It was always that way, thought Azrael.

  “Blessed be,” he said to all. “Do not be afraid. We voyage together because you go to war, and we want to make sure, should anything become of you, one of us is on hand to take charge of your forms, and remove them to the Heavens in order that you do not disappear into the Unknown.”

  “We pray that you are able to defend yourself wisely,” said Metatron.

  “But if you are unable, or are over-run by demons,” Ezekiel said softly.

  “We want to be at your side. We cannot interfere with your battle, as we are just Angels in spirit, not body,” Douma informed them.

  “And as such, we are there to guide and carry you on,” Azrael said solemnly.

  “We shall leave for Mingary Castle,” declared Omniel. He turned to Baglis and Lesley. “Is all prepared?” he asked kindly.

  “We have put the magics in place,” confirmed Lesley.

  “We have spelled the four corners of the Castle,” Baglis added, “and the border lines are secure. A binding spell has been cast to keep the laird out of sight.”

  “And a spell of invisibility for those who would normally not be in the castle has been cast.” Lesley held onto Sebastian’s hand as she spoke.

  Baglis could see the worry etched on Mairi’s face. “All the children have been spelled, and they believe they are playing in a meadow. They are safe—and no matter if anyone is capable of breaking through all the other spells we have put in place, the children will always be out of harm’s way.”

  Mairi breathed easier and shrugged when Lauren and Valerie sent her questioning looks.

  “We thank you, for all your hard work. We will have to set up a watchtower and check the perimeters,” Raphael stated.

  “Gather together all and stand, close to one another.” Michael gave the command. “Angels, Fae, Dragon, Mistdreamers, we are about to go to war. It will be bloody. It will end the lives of some of you, but it will lead to freedom.

  “It is a war we must fight for good, for thanks, for the future.

/>   “Stand with us, and we will win. Love over Hate. Hope over Fear. Good over Evil.”

  Taking the Spear of Lugh from King Finvarra, he waved it in a circular motion above his head. The ground below them trembled. Mairi became aware that she was surrounded by thousands of Angels and wondered just when they had arrived.

  Mairi could feel herself falling, The floor had opened up, and they were all heading downwards through a deep, dark pit. Her stomach was doing somersaults.

  Appoloin placed his hands on her shoulders, and she steadied herself, cautious of looking down and seeing the pit. Taking courage, she glanced down and saw there was no pit, only the floor on which they stood. Yet she still felt the sensation of falling.

  She lay against Appoloin to steady herself, drawing upon his strength and love. She saw that Valerie and Lauren had done the same, and knew they were experiencing the same as she. Closing her eyes, she called to them.

  “It would have been so much easier going there in mistdream, don’t you think?”

  “I’d rather have a glass of wine,” Valerie said.

  “I’d rather the pair of you shut up and help me not to throw up,” Lauren grumbled.

  “We should have a big party when this is all over,” Mairi said happily and laughed when her cousins shouted back at her.

  “Don’t even go there—that is how this whole bloody mess started!”

  The three mistdreaming cousins began to giggle, and then they laughed. They laughed loudly they nearly missed Gabriel’s announcement.

  “We have arrived, everyone to your positions, and remember you are now in sixteenth-century Scotland. Things are quite different in this here and now. Let us prepare for the Battle of Mingary.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Are you well, sire?” asked Paschar.

  Lucias growled. “If you ask me that question once again, I swear I will take your head off and feed it to the witches.”

  “We have no witches,” Paschar returned, annoyed. “If we did, they would surely have cured your face and you wouldn’t have to wear that ridiculous Phantom of the Opera mask.”

  Lucias stared at him incredulously, then chuckled. “I think you are mistaken, but I will let that pass for the moment. Only you would have the nerve to talk to me that way. But I cannot maintain the glamour of a healed face all the time, that is why the mask is in place.”

  “It also makes you look more formidable to the troops.” Paschar agreed, with a grin.

  “I have to admit to feeling rather pleased with myself.”

  “Dare I say a sense of equilibrium has returned to your presence?” Paschar asked.

  “Yes.” Lucias smiled delightedly. “Yes, you are correct, an equilibrium, that’s the perfect word.”

  “Do you wish to begin, or have you else to take care of before we address the Legions?” he asked.

  “Not one, but a few measures I must put in place before we end this joke perpetrated upon us by the humans. I must visit with the Dungeons. Come with me, Paschar, you will delight in what I am about to do.”

  Paschar was intrigued.

  “Bring the witch. I have need of her, again.”

  Paschar looked down his nose. This was a duty he found most displeasing. Going near the dreadful woman made him want to throw up anything of which he had partaken. She wreaked of human now, and that was a species he had never been interested in. He could not understand why other Angels had found them fascinating. They were dull, stupid, and infinitely boring.

  Clamping a steel bangle around the crone’s wrist, he attached a heavy chain to it and tugged her. “Move it, Witch, our master awaits.”

  “He may be your master, Paschar, but he will never be mine,” she hissed.

  Yes, he thought, I do hate this task the master insists I undertake.

  Amdusias and Baal waited for the witch to arrive and free them. It had been part of the agreement made with Cassiel when they had arranged for him to escape. They had not expected him to live, and cared not that he had, but it fit in with their plan, and they assumed he would live up to his end of the bargain.

  “You will not be set free this day,” Flauros spoke with authority.

  “And why would that be?” Amdusias asked angrily.

  “We have need of you to remain in the cell. You will be our asset on the inside and can inform me of Lucias’s next move.”

  “So you are reneging on your word to set us free. You are a fool, Flauros,” Baal snarled furiously.

  “Can you not see how imperative it is for you to remain as you are?”

  “I beg to differ,” Lucias said as he materialised. “I had no idea, Flauros, that you were aware of my little game.”

  Flauros took a step back, suddenly very afraid. “I have known for some time, yes.”

  “Yet you forgot to inform The Conjurer?” asked Lucias venomously. “Did you not believe he had a right to know what I had done, or were you just acting for your own benefit? And before you answer, know that you stand in a triangle.”

  ‘Shit, shit, and double shit!” shouted Flauros.

  “Precisely,” Lucias crowed happily. Turning to his two captives, he asked, “Do you want freed of my spell.”

  “You know we do.”

  “But what is it you wish from us?” Amdusias knew there was a game plan in action.

  “I want you to follow me in battle. If you cannot agree, then I am sure your friend Flauros will be just as happy to join you here. What say you, Flauros?”

  “I do not wish to remain here, not in the company of these two fools.” Flauros’s words flowed from him, unable to prevent the truth from coming out of his mouth.

  “We are fools, Flauros?” asked Baal, incredulously. “We are not the ones who cocked up the battle at Glencoe.”

  “It was not I who ruined that. How could we know of the Angels in the ranks of the troops? That was all your fault, Amdusias. You were the blowhard.”

  “Shut up, all of you!” shouted Lucias. “Agree to my terms or prepare to remain in Hell’s dungeons, take it or leave it!”

  Flauros took a second glance at Lucias. This was not the maniacal fool who had been ranting before. There was something very different about him, and Flauros found himself curious.

  “I’m listening. What is it you are proposing?”

  “I’m saying nothing until I get an agreement from the three of you.”

  “If you get our agreement, it will be under duress—” Amdusias didn’t get the opportunity to finish his sentence before Flauros interrupted.

  “Not necessarily under duress, but you have my interest piqued. However, if you turn on us—and you are assured this to be the truth because of the triangle I find myself standing in—know this, Lucias: you will find no stone so small to crawl under that will hide you from my retribution. Am I understood?”

  Flauros waited for the furious outburst of indignation. It didn’t happen.

  He smiled to himself. This was the demon he had expected from the great King Balam.

  “You have my agreement. Let us know what you are planning.”

  Lucias waved away his comments. “I want to hear it from the kings as well. Are we to come to an understanding?”

  Amdusias and Baal wasted no time in responding, “If Flauros is with you, then we too are in. Now tell us what you intend.”

  Lucias spun in a circle, and, raising his hands, he spun so fast he almost disappeared. When he was still, he was wearing clothes changed to those worn by warriors on a Spanish Armada. His steel helmet had three red plumes attached that matched the colour of the pantaloons he wore. Black stockings and shoes with silver buckles that shone as brightly as the chest armour completed his adornment.

  “We go to the Island of Mull. From there, we will make our attack on the mainland. Ready your legions,” he said authoritatively. “I already have Dantalian, Zagan, and my father’s legions waiting.”

  He glanced slyly at Amdusias’s cage. “I have forewarned Amdusias’s and your Legions, Baa
l, to be ready.”

  The two kings agreed enthusiastically.

  “I leave it up to you, Flauros, to ready your own Legions, but do not tarry because we have Duke Vual waiting with his army and we all appreciate how impatient he can get.”

  Flauros was impressed, was it possible a victory lay ahed for the Demon?

  “If you have a way to work this to our benefit, I would like to hear of it. I will tell you now, Lucias, that The Conjurer does not want to hear of another battle lost in his name.”

  Not even a flash of annoyance crossed Lucias’s face.

  “Tell me, Lucias, how is it you are no longer… erm, crazy?”

  “I have come to the conclusion there is little point in overreacting. The fun is doing the deed and walking away. I nearly ended up in the Unknown Territory. That has a way of making you face what is truly important.”

  That was all Flauros needed to hear and committed to Lucias’s scheme.

  “I will be ready within the hour. My Legions are prepared. We shall assemble in the Throne Room,” he added before vanishing.

  Amdusias held his breath. Baal was less hopeful about Lucias coming through with his promises and setting them free. After all, there was no witch, and he was not powerful enough to complete the task on his own.

  “Are you ready to follow me, Amdusias?” Lucias asked, then asked the same of Baal.

  “We are, but I have doubts you will be able to execute the spell without a witch.”

  Lucias lifted his head and shouted to the ceiling, “Paschar, bring her forth.”

  Paschar fluttered into the cell, careful to keep his wings within safe distance of the walls, in case they caught fire. Chained to his hands was a crone.

  “She is witch?” asked Amdusias in surprise. “I thought you had rid the realms of this type.”

  “As you say, I am not powerful enough, at the moment, to set you both free. I have need of a witch, and this one will do. Bring her to me, Paschar.”

  Paschar shuddered at the very thought of touching the woman and dragged her nearer Lucias. “I give her to you with pleasure,” he said haughtily.