The Oaken Throne

by Sara C. Roethle

  Ealasaid grinned. “Yes, Maarav and I will marry tonight, and I’d like you to stand witness.”

  “Me?” he balked. His thoughts were still hung up on the idea of going to the Gray Place, now she wanted him to stand witness to a marriage?

  As his thoughts caught up to him, he turned his head to stare at Maarav. “You,” he began skeptically, “are getting married to her.” He gestured to Ealasaid.

  Maarav scowled. “It’s not that unbelievable. I told you we were together.”

  Kai laughed. Yes, Maarav had told him that, but he hadn’t fully believed it, and now to suddenly be getting married? They really had gone mad. In fact, in that moment, it seemed the fates themselves had completely lost all semblance of reason.

  Ealasaid pursed her lips as she glared at him. “It’s not funny.”

  He shook his head. How had he ended up in such a backwards situation? “I apologize. I’d love to stand witness for your ceremony. In fact, if it will keep you from hanging me, I’d even marry the two of you myself.”

  “I wouldn’t have hanged you,” Ealasaid mumbled, finally seeming like the sweet, naive girl he’d known before.

  “Shh,” Maarav warned jokingly. “We have him where we want him. Don’t let him know he’s safe.”

  Kai shook his head, laughing again for the first time in what felt like ages. “I’m hardly safe if you want to drag me to the in-between. The last time I was there I nearly died.”

  “You were already dying,” Maarav scoffed. “Just be grateful you get to be a part of negotiations. I have to stay here and guard your sleeping bodies.”

  Kai shook his head again. They truly were mad, but then again, he probably was too. At least they seemed happy. It had been a long time since he had viewed true happiness. He might never be able to find it himself, but at least he could be glad for the strange couple before him.

  “I agree to all of your terms,” he said with a grin.

  Maarav clapped him on the shoulder. “Then we’ve found ourselves a witness, even if he’s more Faie than man these days.”

  Kai’s shoulders slumped back down. In all of the excitement, he’d nearly forgotten about that part. There might be some brief happy moments in the near future, but beyond that, he knew his days were numbered.

  Branwen clenched and unclenched her fists as she walked, reminding herself that she was in her physical form. This wasn’t like the last time she’d been trapped in the in-between, when her body was gravely wounded back in reality. Her body was whole and well, and she intended to keep it that way, though night had come and gone and she was still trapped.

  Sometime ago, the loamy ground beneath her feet had become more solid and rocky. The strange scraggly trees had thinned, giving way to tall grass and wildflowers. While the mist of the in-between remained, it now seemed somehow lighter, less stifling, lifting strands of her russet hair with occasional gusts of cool air. The sun shone overhead, delicately kissing her freckled cheeks. She’d never reached this place during her previous entrapment, but perhaps this was just a place where only physical bodies could go, not those visiting in their dreams.

  Her eyes scanned the gently swaying grasses for Naoki, who periodically bounded to her before disappearing, since the previous evening. She seemed to be searching for something, but what could a dragon so desperately want to find? Her only hope was to help Naoki in her search, then perhaps she’d bring her back to reality. Niklas had told her that as a wraith, she could not come here. She’d proven him wrong, but now feared what might happen when she returned to her home realm. If she returned.

  A bright, pulsing light drew her attention to the other end of the meadow. The light was cool, like a captive star, not the warmth of the sun flickering through the yellow grass. A tickle of fear crept through her, but she knew she had little choice but to reach the light. Anything was better than wandering through the endless expanses of the in-between for another day.

  The grasses swished against her breeches as she hurried forward, her eyes trained on the flickering light. At first it increased in brilliance, then nearly halfway across the meadow, it winked out of sight.

  Her heart fell, but she continued onward, hoping she could still find whatever it was. Eventually her feet slowed, reaching the area where the light had been. She stopped, peering around, then nearly jumped out of her skin as she spotted a small child sitting in the grass, the long yellow tendrils nearly obscuring her from sight.

  The child, a little girl, hung her head, her small arms wrapped around bony knees. A white dress covered her delicate frame. A funeral dress. Her golden hair was adorned with tiny braids and white flowers, and her tiny feet were bare.

  Branwen wondered if this girl was dead, and waiting to move on. Finn had claimed she’d seen Anders in a golden meadow after he died, right before he’d passed on to wherever the dead went in the end. Yet, the custom of white funeral gowns was old. It was rumored to have originated with the Druids, and so had been rejected not long after the Faie War.

  Branwen crouched down, hoping she would not scare the little girl. “Greetings little one,” she crooned, “what are you doing out here by yourself?”

  The girl blinked hazel eyes at her. “Druantia has bade me to wait for any who might seek her counsel.”

  “Druantia?” Branwen questioned.

  The girl nodded. “Queen of the Druids. She rests here because her home is in turmoil. She belongs with the dead now.”

  Branwen tilted her head, wondering at this strange child and her alleged Druid Queen.

  “Do you wish to see her?” the child asked.

  “Perhaps,” Branwen replied. “What is your name?”

  The girl opened her mouth to speak, then turned wide eyes toward something suddenly crashing toward them through the grass.

  Branwen quickly stood in time to see a flash of white, then Naoki skidded to a halt, nearly crashing into the girl. Seeming frantic, Naoki, lowered her beak and sniffed the girl so fiercely she nearly knocked the child onto her side.

  “Naoki!” Branwen hissed, shooing the dragon away. “Leave her alone!”

  Naoki craned her long neck to gaze up at Branwen. Her spherical lilac eyes were open wide, un-blinking, as if trying to tell her something.

  “Is this who you’ve been looking for?” she asked.

  Naoki seemed to nod.

  Branwen turned her attention back to the child, though the child did not seem to fear the dragon.

  Still, Naoki was an alarming sight. “Don’t worry,” Branwen consoled, crouching back in front of the girl. “She will not hurt you. In fact, I think she brought me here to find you.”

  The girl nodded. “I think she wants me to bring you to Druantia.”

  Knowing she might regret it, Branwen nodded. “Yes, that may be the case. Will you take us to this Druid Queen?”

  The girl nodded, then climbed to her feet. Without warning, she took off across the meadow, bounding with the grace of a deer toward a distant copse of fir trees.

  Naoki instantly took off after her.

  Cursing under her breath, Branwen hurried to follow, wondering just what they might find within the copse. The legends spoke of the Druids as a peaceful race, but their magic had been feared by humans. They’d been hunted down and eradicated. Branwen worried their Queen might not have warm feelings toward mortals.

  The child reached the copse far ahead with Naoki at her heels. Huffing with exertion, Branwen ran faster, not wanting to get left behind despite the risks. If this was why Naoki had brought her here, she had to see it through.

  Naoki and the child had disappeared into the trees by the time she reached the forest. She slowed, peering around for them, but all she saw were tree trunks wider than her chest, and the deep green foliage underneath.

  Carefully picking her way along, she listened for Naoki and the child, but heard nothing. Growing increasingly worried, she continued on, deeper into the tree shadows.

  She wiped the sweat from her brow as she wal
ked, rapidly losing hope. They’d left her behind, and now she’d be lost in the woods alone. Her head fell as her heart was consumed with despair. Thinking the worst, her loud thoughts almost drowned out the sound of a woman’s voice not too far ahead.

  “What have you brought me?” the voice said.

  Perking up, Branwen crept in the direction of the voice, distantly noting the sound of running water. As she neared, she could hear the low murmur of the little girl’s voice too, though she spoke too softly to be understood.

  Branwen’s eyes caught sight of a small pond in the middle of the forest. The opening in the trees allowed the sun to shine through, glistening across the pond’s surface. Beside the pond stood the little girl and Naoki, but no woman. Curious, Branwen crept forward until she reached the little girl’s side.

  “A wraith traveling with the dragon,” the woman’s voice commented. “How peculiar.”

  Branwen’s head whipped around, searching for the source of the voice.

  “Down here,” the voice said with a chuckle.

  Branwen looked down at the water. “Down where?” she questioned.

  The little girl pointed down at the pond, her bare toes nearly touching the edge.

  “Does the dragon know you?” the woman’s voice asked. As she spoke, the sparkling surface of the water rippled.

  Her heart thudding in her throat, Branwen knelt beside the pond’s edge. “Are you . . . in the water?”

  The voice chuckled. “Silly child, I am the water. It’s a nicer form than a tree. More . . . fluid.” The pond let out a bubbling laugh at her own joke.

  Branwen turned wide eyes to the child. “Is this the Druid Queen you spoke of?”

  The child nodded. “Her name is Druantia.”

  “Forgive me for luring you here,” the pond, Druantia, interrupted. “I was curious.”

  Branwen furrowed her brow, then looked back down at the water.

  “The light you saw,” Druantia explained. “I provided it to draw your attention. When I sensed a wraith in my realm, I feared the worst. Has the balance shifted even further?”

  “Balance?” Branwen asked, still confused. “I’m here because Naoki brought me. I believed she was looking for this child. Now I’m not sure.”

  “The dragon?” Druantia asked. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense. Dragons are excellent trackers. In the old times, they served as familiars to the Druids, along with unicorns and other mythical beasts. Once they were bonded, they could track their masters to other realms and beyond.”

  “Well this one belongs to Finn,” Branwen explained, “so I don’t know why she brought me here instead.”

  “Ah yes,” Druantia replied. “Finnur. That child is lost to me now. She has chosen the mortal path, rejecting our ways.”

  The child beside Branwen began to sniffle.

  “What’s the matter?” Branwen asked, but the child simply shook her head.

  “Enough of sad talk,” Druantia sighed. “I do not know why the dragon brought you to this realm, but she has gravely wronged you. Wraiths cannot come to the in-between.”

  “But I’m here,” Branwen argued, “so really, they can.”

  Druantia sighed again. “My apologies, I was not clear. Wraiths cannot come here and survive. The energy that animates you belongs in this realm. Now that you are here, it will slowly seep from you until you die.”

  Branwen’s stomach twisted into a painful knot. She suspected something like that might be the case, but suspecting and knowing were two very different things. “What if I go back?” she croaked. “Is it too late.”

  “You cannot go back,” Druantia replied. “The barrier will keep your energy here. If your mortal body returns to the other realm, it will still die.”

  No, she thought, this cannot happen now. Not after her brother had sacrificed his life to save her. “What if the barrier were to be broken?”

  “You would dare to suggest such a thing?” Druantia hissed. “Has not the balance been altered enough already?”

  “Just answer the question,” Branwen begged.

  “Yes,” Druantia grumbled, the water’s surface seeming to churn with her displeasure, “if the barrier were to be broken, you would most likely retain that which animates you, but many more will die. Magic would run rampant in your realm. This place would meld with that.”

  Branwen shook her head, frustrated. “But magic is already running rampant there. A war is brewing because of it. The mages fight the non-magic humans, and the Faie war with both.”

  The water’s surface seemed to shiver with a heavy sigh. “Yes, I have felt the disturbances. The Dair draw nature power into reality. They are not one with it, they use it. Everything they do draws magic from the earth and releases it into the lives of mortals.”

  That seemed about right. Though she hadn’t experienced Finn’s magic firsthand like the others, she’d been held captive by the Cavari for quite some time. “So maybe the barrier breaking would be a good thing?” she suggested, her thoughts lingering on the Dair. “Surely things cannot get any worse?”

  The pond bubbled with a snort, seeming to grow more animate the more it spoke. “You are a fool. Adding more magic will only make things worse. It would restore the Ceàrdaman to their full power, and who knows what it would do to the Faie?”

  Branwen fell silent. Was that why Niklas wanted to destroy the barrier? “The Ceàrdaman?” she questioned.

  “They are from here, you know,” Druantia explained. “The Ceàrdaman left this place to play with the mortals. They started the flow of foreign magics into that land. Eventually, the hole they had created repaired itself, and they became trapped.”

  Branwen curled her legs under herself, hunching her back in defeat. She knew she was Niklas’ pawn, but she had at least trusted him to give what he had promised. He’d promised her she could return to a somewhat normal life after she helped Finn break the barrier, but how could her life be normal if breaking the barrier would do such horrible things to the mortals of her realm? How could she live a life with her family, if she risked all of their lives to meet her own ends?

  She needed to accept the only possible answer. “I suppose I’ll die here then. I will not try to break the barrier. My family will be safer never seeing me again.”

  “I’m sorry, child,” Druantia soothed. “You may remain here with me if you wish. I’ve lived many lives, and have many stories to share with a former scholar. Perhaps together we can figure out what the dragon wishes as well.”

  Branwen sighed, not questioning how Druantia knew she was a scholar. At one time, her life had been all about stories. She’d left her home in search of more. Now she was being offered the opportunity of a lifetime, but she wouldn’t be able to write anything down for generations to come. The stories would die with her.

  “Yes,” she sighed, settling in. “Please tell me your stories.” She aimed a glare at Naoki. “Though I couldn’t care less about what she wants.”

  Naoki ignored her in favor of sniffing the poor child again, but the child no longer seemed afraid. Perhaps Branwen would learn more about her too, and what sort of magic had trapped her in this awful place.

  Chapter Seven

  Finn sat atop Loinnir’s back, making her way through the forest. At her side rode Iseult, and behind her, the Cavari. Sugn had gone to gather more of the Dair. As the afternoon sun glimmered through the trees, she thought of Branwen, whom she’d not been able to find the night before, or the morning of their departure. In truth, she’d nearly forgotten about her with everything else going on. At least the remaining few Aos Sí, who’d stayed behind to watch over the fortress, could inform Branwen, if she deigned to show up, where Finn had gone. Or perhaps she never would. Perhaps Branwen wanted to be far from the chaos that swirled around her. She shook her head. She could not blame her. She’d like to be away from it herself, but there was no other choice. Naoki too, had gone missing, but she knew the dragon could track her anywhere. She’d proven so on many occasions
.

  Pushing aside her thoughts, she glanced at Iseult, observing his perceptive eyes and grim expression. She wanted desperately to ask his advice on strategy. She had never faced a true battle, and now she might be facing many. The first threat was An Fiach, but Oighear’s Aos Sí might be lying in wait too. It would not do to charge in blindly.

  She glanced at him again to find him watching her. “What is it?” she questioned, her voice barely audible over the creak of their saddles and the gentle hoofbeats of their mounts.

  He eyed her intently, shadows passing over his face from the bows above. “Are you sure about this?”

  She glanced over her shoulder, noting a few of the Cavari on horseback, well out of hearing range. That did not mean Faie weren’t hidden about with ears eager to listen, but she trusted them far more than her own people.

  “It is the only way,” she explained. “If An Fiach will attack Garenoch . . . ” she trailed off, shaking her head. “I cannot just let that happen, especially not with Kai and everyone else roaming about. There is too much danger, and I am the only one strong enough to protect them all.”

  He continued to watch her. “What of the prophecy?”

  A shiver went down her spine. Something in her bones told her the prophecy was real, that it would need to be dealt with, but she could not bring herself to face it. At least, not yet.

  “I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”

  His eyes were all too knowing. With a quick glance behind, he tugged his horse’s reins.

  She stopped beside him, wondering at the sudden emotion in his gray-green eyes.

  “Finn,” he began patiently. “The prophecy states that either you or Ealasaid will die, yet you will risk yourself to save her. Perhaps in doing so, you’ll fulfill part of the prophecy with your death.”

  She knew he was right, but . . . “What else am I supposed to do? Let so many others die in my place? Ealasaid deserves life far more than I—” She sealed her mouth shut, surprised at her own words. She wanted to live, truly she did, but a deep, dark part of her soul argued that she’d already had her chance at several lifetimes.