Ann Gimpel

by Earth's Requiem (Earth Reclaimed)

  “Is she gone?” Tara oozed back through the wall. Her gaze shifted from side to side. “Och, I was certain that one was goin’ to follow me. She spent years chasin’ me once I moved to Salt Lake. Had to build wards to keep her out.”

  Gwydion’s arms closed around her again. He murmured to her in Gaelic, and she murmured endearments back. Bella cawed stridently. Apparently having recovered somewhat, she flew to them and pecked Tara’s hair.

  Fionn stood. He took two strides, snatched the bird in both hands, and chided her. Aislinn didn’t catch all the Gaelic, but the bird was complaining that Tara should have been Fionn’s.

  With an arm twined around Tara’s waist, Gwydion turned to face them. “I am going to send her to her rest in the halls of the dead,” he said solemnly. “There is aught here for her. She would bid you farewell.” He gave Tara a gentle shove toward Aislinn.

  “Mom, oh Mom.” Aislinn was crying, unable to control the emotions flooding her. “I love you. It’s like losing you all over again.”

  Tara pulled her close and held her against her half-decayed body. She crooned in Gaelic like she’d done when Aislinn was small. “Never forget ye are my baby girl. And ’tis proud I am of how ye’ve turned out.” She took Aislinn aside then, whispering low. “Fionn loves you. I see in his eyes what was never there for me. I know ye’ve heard things here today that might make ye doubt him, but doona make that mistake. He is a good man.” She kept an arm around Aislinn as they walked back to Gwydion.

  “I am ready,” she said simply, “after one last piece of motherly advice. Watch out for the dragon. She’s on no one’s side but her own.”

  Fionn, who’d kept a tight rein on Bella, tipped his chin at Aislinn. “Let’s give them some privacy.”

  Aislinn’s throat was so tight that she couldn’t force words past the lump in it. Tears burned just behind her eyes.

  She looked at her mother, who smiled at her. “There’s nothing more to say, mo leannán. We will meet again in the Summerlands, the kingdom of the dead.”

  Fionn transferred Bella to a shoulder and hooked his arm into hers. “Come,” he said gently. “Where’s Rune?”

  “Hunting for Arawn and Bran.” She snuffled, feeling perfectly wretched.

  “Why don’t you call him? Maybe we can help.”

  Fionn led her away from Gwydion and her mother, keeping hold of her, much as he was doing with the raven. It was as if he knew she’d run back to Tara, given half a chance.

  Aislinn’s heart screamed in protest. All the pain she’d buried when Tara walked into the vortex hadn’t really gone anywhere. It was still inside her, waiting to chew her up and spit her out in little, jagged pieces. Being so exhausted that she was worn to a nubbin didn’t help.

  At least this time, I got to tell her goodbye…

  So what? I’m still an orphan.

  Only children are orphans. I haven’t been one of them for a long time.

  “Call Rune.” Compulsion ran beneath Fionn’s words.

  Once, she would have been angry, but she understood the wisdom behind his action. She was dangerously close to falling apart, and he knew it.

  “Rune. Rune. Did you find them?”

  “Yes, both. All are on their way outside. The humans who were awake found them about the same time I did. I was just on my way back to you.” The wolf hesitated a beat. “I tried to tell you that, but you didn’t answer.”

  “I’m sorry. No excuses. Where are you?”

  Rune shot an image into her mind. She didn’t recognize it. “Tell me how you got there—”

  “I will find you.”

  Fionn had obviously been listening. He jumped into their conversation. “Good. We’ll wait here.”

  Aislinn pushed her mother’s face out of the center of her mind’s eye. There’d be time to grieve when it didn’t hurt so much. She dribbled power into her mage light to crank it up a notch and then turned to face Fionn. “It appears Slototh targeted you. Is he the one you tangled with? The one who ripped you up the middle like a slab of meat.”

  “Aye, lass. He hated me.”

  “Why? What did you do to him?”

  “What else?” A crooked smile lit his eyes. “I stole a maid he valued and made her love me, not him.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She was a Selkie. She returned to the sea.” Fionn spread his hands wide. “Doona be looking at me like that. Slototh had stolen her skin. He forced her to remain in human form. I freed her, returned the skin, and gave her a choice.”

  “How long was she with you?”

  “And why does that matter?” He tipped her chin so her gaze met his. “’Tis you I love.”

  His words warmed her soul. Tired as she was, Aislinn vibrated with longing for him. She wanted to believe him, had never wanted anything quite so badly, but they needed to talk. She had a lot of questions that needed answers before she could fall into his arms. He reached for her, but she shook her head and retreated a few steps.

  Rune slipped out of a shadowed hallway, looking very pleased.

  “We’re all present, then.” Fionn smiled, but it held a sad edge. “Let us leave this place.” He eyed Aislinn. “Ye’ve been quite the question girl. I’ve a few of my own once ye’ve had a bit of a rest.”

  “I don’t know if I have enough magic left to get us out of here.”

  “I do.” He settled the wolf between them and put an arm around her.

  Power zinged through the air when he called it. She wondered why he couldn’t have rescued himself.

  “’Twas a tradeoff,” he said, eying her as he held onto his spell easily. “I couldna leave even the slightest chink, or Slototh would have followed me through. Once one like me winds himself into our special place in the Dreaming, only another can unravel the magic. I was working on finding a way round that, though.”

  “If that’s the only place you are truly safe,” she said with a frown, “it seems like a flawed system. You put yourself there, but can’t get yourself out.”

  He favored her with half a grin. “I was verra near to blowing a hole in my shelter, especially after I heard you calling me.”

  “Do you mean to tell me I could have gotten you out of there?” She looked askance at him. “It sure didn’t feel like it. That magic Gwydion used...” She blew out a weary breath. “No matter how many years I practiced, I could never, never—”

  “Ye doona know what ye’ll be able to do. Your magic is still growing, lass. If I’d trained you, ye might have been able to free me.”

  “Yes, too bad you couldn’t have foreseen every single thing I might have needed to know.” Her sarcasm left a bitter taste. “Don’t mind me,” she muttered. “I just felt so fucking helpless. Didn’t like it much.”

  “No one does.” He had such a tender look on his face that a part inside her melted. “Are ye wanting to use the magic I called up for us? Or would ye rather stand here trying to sort things out?”

  “I want out of here.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Aislinn staggered into a waning day. Fionn had jumped them to where they’d started, a mile or so from the prison. Humans milled about, leaving in groups of twos, threes, and fives, presumably going home. Arawn and Bran gestured from where they sat, sheltered by the same rock walls they’d chosen earlier. When Aislinn got there, she noted they were checking each human soldier out, much as they’d checked them in.

  “How many did we lose?” she asked.

  Arawn looked up. “So far, one hundred fifty-three have not passed through here.” He glanced at the line queuing behind her. “We will see. My estimate is not more than fifty or sixty.”

  “Excellent.” Bran smiled. “I had thought we would suffer far more losses.”

  Aislinn lowered her gaze. She wanted
to share their enthusiasm, but to her, the loss of even one more human life, on top of all those forced through the vortex, was too many.

  Movement caught her attention out of the corner of one eye. Aislinn groaned as Dewi settled to earth, folding blood red wings behind her.

  “Daughter.”

  Aislinn ignored her.

  Fionn grabbed one of her hands. “Dewi is calling you. Ye canna ignore her.”

  “Oh yes, I can.”

  His forehead creased. For a minute, she thought he was going to censure her and girded herself to ignore him, too. “What happened, lass? Did she injure you?”

  The gentleness in his voice was almost more than she could bear. She didn’t trust herself to talk, so she just nodded. Fionn’s face darkened. His brows drew together into a thick, furious line. With Bella on his shoulder, he strode toward Dewi, planted himself in front of her, and crossed his arms over his chest. “What did ye do to her?” he demanded.

  “Included her in an adventure,” Dewi trumpeted defiantly.

  “What kind of adventure?” Suspicion thrummed beneath his words, but apparently Dewi didn’t hear it.

  “Well...” The dragon lowered her head conspiratorially. “After we’d done an astral search and not found anything, we linked minds when she went inside looking for you. It was terribly exciting. She came across an old friend of mine—”

  Fionn held up a hand. “Ye can stop right there. This tale has a familiar ring to it. ’Twas the Minotaur, was it not? I havena seen that particular gleam in those ancient eyes for any other creature, except perhaps my kinsman, Uther Pendragon. Or your mate, Nidhogg, when he still walked the Earth.”

  “Yes,” Dewi gushed. “Smart of you to guess. Of course it was the Minotaur. And he was just as powerful as ever. Why, do you know…?” The dragon must have seen a warning flash from Fionn’s eyes, because her voice ran down.

  “You didn’t force her, did you?” he ground out.

  “I thought she’d like it.” Dewi’s jaws parted in a lascivious grin. “What woman wouldn’t? A cock of steel that can go almost forever.”

  Fionn dropped his arms to his sides and balled his hands into fists. Aislinn saw his jaw clench. “She is my woman.” He spat the words through gritted teeth. “Ye will never force her into another sexual encounter without her express permission—and mine. Do ye understand me?”

  Dewi bared her teeth in a snarl. Apparently, being chastised wasn’t an experience she’d had often. Fire belched from her mouth. It came close to Fionn, missing by scant inches. The dragon turned away.

  Relief swept through Aislinn. Fionn had defended her. Against a creature he’d told her was sacred. He does love me. He really does.

  “Of course I do,” he muttered and made his way back to her side. “And doona get all pissy because I was inside your head.” He still looked angry enough to spit nails. “Why dinna ye tell me what she’d done to you? I’m going down there to get rid of that damned atrocity once and for all. He’s been nothing but a nuisance ever since Pasiphaë fell in love with her husband’s Cretan bull, fucked it, and created him.” Fionn rolled his eyes. “All those children he ate. I doona understand why someone else dinna kill him long since.”

  The air crackled as Fionn summoned magic.

  Aislinn made a grab for him. “I didn’t tell you because I’ve hardly had a chance to tell you anything. Leave him be. I don’t think he can find his own way out of the labyrinth. Besides, killing him won’t undo what happened. The dragon’s just as guilty as he is.”

  Fionn met her gaze, his blue eyes dark as midnight. “He would have raped you, lass, dragon or no, and killed you if Dewi hadn’t shown up.”

  She nodded. “I know that.” A knife-like smile split her face. “I’m pretty good at getting to men while they’re lost in lust. Somehow, I would have been fine. The real problem was Dewi. She blocked me from my magic.”

  Rune, hackles raised the length of his back, growled. “I told you she was trouble.” What he’d heard pass between Aislinn, Fionn, and Dewi must have upset him terribly. He ran in circles, unable to contain himself. Making a dash for the dragon, he barked and snarled, fell back, and then did it again. Aislinn called him, worried Dewi would turn him into cinders if she got angry enough, but the wolf didn’t listen.

  Fionn reeled in his magic. “If ye are certain ye doona wish me to avenge your honor—”

  Aislinn shook her head. “Save your magic for when I really need it.” Besides, you’d have to kill both of them to truly avenge anything.

  “I think we’re about ready to go,” Arawn said, once he’d thanked what looked like the last human to check out. “We did better than I expected. Losses on our side totaled forty-six.”

  Gwydion, who’d shown up during Fionn’s discussion with Dewi, let out a low whistle and rubbed his hands together. “Aye, good news indeed. I canna think of another battle where we had so few casualties.”

  “We need to hear about what happened betwixt you and Slototh.” Bran shot a meaningful look at Aislinn. “But not here.”

  “Wait.” Dewi stalked close. Her unsettling gaze zeroed in on Aislinn. “This is an apology to the MacLochlainn. I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you. It’s not as if you were a maid, after all. I honestly did not know you would be so upset.”

  Aislinn moved from under the protective arm Fionn had draped across her back. Squaring her aching shoulders, she faced the dragon. “If you mean that, apology accepted. We can talk more later when I’m not so tired. For now, can you promise me you will never do anything like that to me ever again?”

  Dewi nodded.

  Sensing a trick, Aislinn snapped, “I need to hear you say it.”

  “I will never pull you into something we have not agreed upon again.”

  Aislinn closed her eyes. They felt gritty. She opened them and held Dewi’s whirling gaze. “I will hold you to that,” she said solemnly.

  “Somehow, I do not doubt it.” Dewi threw back her head and laughed, spewing fire. She was still laughing when she spread her wings and took flight.

  “Nice work.” Gwydion dusted the palms of his hands against one another. “That one has needed a good come-uppance for a thousand years.” He gazed around the group. “Where are we going?”

  “How about back to Marta’s?” Aislinn suggested. “There’s more food there than any place else I know. Unless one of you has a better suggestion.”

  The men looked at one another. Something silent passed between them that Aislinn was too tired to decipher. Left to their own devices, she supposed they’d go back to the Old Country.

  “Agreed.” Arawn tried to smile, but he looked as done in as the rest of them.

  Fionn held out his arms. “Come here, mo croi. I’ll have you home in no time. Once we’re there, I’ll see ye get rest and food.”

  He whistled for Rune. The wolf came at a lope. He’d chased the dragon’s flight path from the ground, apparently intent on making certain she was really gone, not simply hiding behind something.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Aislinn didn’t remember much about the journey back to Marta’s. True to his word, Fionn carried her down the hallway and tucked her into bed. She thought she should clean up first, but couldn’t even get the words out before she fell asleep. She remembered waking to eat. Fionn handed her a bowl, but her efforts to manipulate the spoon were pathetic. After watching her fumbling efforts to feed herself, he filled the spoon and guided it to her mouth until the bowl was empty.

  Finally, her eyes opened, and she felt more-or-less like herself. She wondered how long she’d been dead to the world and if it was day or night. Fionn had drawn the curtains, so it was hard to tell. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked to the window. Pushing the heavy drapery material aside, she peeked out. A stellar sunset, the sky a panoply of p
erfect pastels, brought a smile to her face. “Nice to wake up to,” she murmured.

  Rune padded into the room, came to her, and licked her hand. “You’re awake.”

  “How long did I sleep?”

  “Dawn came, and then came again.”

  She blinked. It had been nearly night when they’d arrived back at Marta’s, so she’d slept for the better part of two full days. When she turned away from the window, Fionn stood framed in the doorway, the raven perched on his shoulder. “Sleeping beauty. I was wondering if you’d ever waken. Another twenty-four hours, and I’d have gone hunting for a counter spell.”

  “American English,” she blurted. “You must really want to be on my good side.”

  He shrugged. “Och aye, lass. There, ’tis that a wee bit better, now?”

  She laughed. “I think I’ve gotten to where I actually don’t care anymore. Before it hurt because of Mother, but I got to see her again.” Sadness welled. “At least this time I had a chance to tell her I loved her—and goodbye.”

  Bella loosed an outraged squawk and flew into the hallway. It bothered Aislinn that the bird hated her mother so, but she couldn’t do much about it.

  “I’ll talk to her,” Fionn said, “but later. This is far more important.” He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. His heartbeat thudded beneath her ear. They stood like that for long moments. Finally, he murmured, “I can draw you a bath. Would ye like that?”

  She twisted in his arms, wrinkling her nose. “Yes. I’ll bet you would, too. You’d think I would have gotten used to how badly I stink, but I haven’t.”

  “I doona care how ye smell—” he grinned down at her “—so long as ye’re alive.”

  As he readied her bath, she walked to the bathroom door, sucked in a breath, and said, “Tell me about Mother.”

  He turned to face her. “She was part of the prophecy. I was to wed a MacLochlainn, and Tara was the first…possibility in many hundreds of years. I think I told you that before.” The lines next to his eyes deepened. His American diction was crisp, as if it were less painful to tell the tale that way. “I didn’t love her. Gwydion did. And I knew she loved him, but I pushed forward anyway. Duty drove me. Gwydion understood. He didn’t like it, but he understood.”