Fey Born

by R. Garland Gray

  Her body wavering between glow and flesh, she rested on her right hip, legs tucked under the sweeping folds of a nearly transparent gown the color of sea foam. The gray floor beneath her was made of cold and flat stones, edges joined with green-gold moss.

  She could hear Valor’s vigil in the deep reaches of her blood, angry at her unassailable resolve, and yet grudgingly respectful of her strength of spirit. They locked wills, two beings, one of magic and one of flesh. Steadfastness and loyalty battled obstinacy and selfishness, neither one able, or willing, to give way to the other.

  Lana wondered how she survived it, how she remained true to her heart and self. She wondered why the sacred feminine spirit allowed her the freedom to disagree, instead of squashing her down like an annoying insect. Mayhap the sword spirit needed her determination and strength of will in ways she did not understand or recognize.

  Mayhap, Valor whispered in her mind. The tone came in waves of compelling silkiness. Too much like the fiery-willed sorceress you be.

  Lana’s lips curved at the hard won praise. She could hear Glenna’s sweet voice too, a pleasant melody in her mind, both youthful and grateful.

  “Lana,” Glenna called softly to and within her. “I can see you.”

  Slowly, Lana opened her eyes to a world of bright amber and cool white radiance. Valor lay on the ground between her and a young blond woman who knelt in joyful alertness. The young woman wore a simple blue gown with a darker blue hooded cloak draped over her shoulders. On her small wrists, bronze bracelets gently rang with a musical tone, chiming in with the matching ones on her bare ankles. Tiny gold and silver beads gleamed in blond plaits framing an oval face graced with pink and rosy cheeks. The woman beamed, her full lips curved in absolute happiness.

  “I am Glenna.” She dipped her head respectfully, the beads in her hair reflecting the enchanted light growing and surrounding her.

  “I am Lana of the Tuatha Dé Danann,” Lana replied, and bowed her head in turn.

  “I know. You are even lovelier than I imagined.”

  Lana smiled at the kind words. “So are you, Glenna. I am honored to meet you.”

  They were exchanging places, a dual gleaming, a willing acceptance of fate, obligation, and desire.

  Glenna leaned forward, her features set in earnestness. “Please accept my thanks for keeping Valor safe. She is most precious to me.”

  “I know, my sister of the sword.”

  The young woman sat back, relief sweeping over her face, and Lana felt gladdened by it. She felt a strong kinship with Glenna, even though this was the first time they ever set eyes upon each other.

  “I have worried for her safety.”

  “There was no need to worry. You, most of all, know Valor is strong.” Lana gave the girl an equal study. They were drawn to each other. Sisters linked by the blood of the sorceress, they were separated only by the passage of time and events.

  “True.” Glenna laughed softly. “Valor is strong, but we, Valor and I, would have ended in the black waters at Dowth if not for your bravery.”

  Lana shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with such undue praise. “Bravery belongs to my guardian, Keegan. I dove into the waters only to retrieve you.”

  “We differ in opinion, my sister.” Already Lana could hear Glenna’s lyrical voice and Valor’s strong tone joining and becoming one. “To hold your breath and put more of the straining upon your already damaged heart took great courage. Verra few have courage of the spirit, verra few have… valor.” Glenna smiled warmly. “Valor says you will argue with me.”

  Lana bit back a smile. “True,” she agreed. She was prepared to protest. She could hear the sword spirit’s reluctant mirth within her, a relinquishing link not yet severed.

  Never will we be truly severed, Valor echoed inside her, and Lana knew it would always be true. This thread of awareness would remain within her.

  “Lana of the noble heart,” Glenna coaxed gently, “Valor wishes to give you a parting gift for your bravery.” The sparkling light surrounding her sister of the sword brightened, nearly blinding her.

  Lana lowered her eyes. She did not want anything from the sacred female sword. She had her fill of Valor’s dark experiences and memories, enough to last many lifetimes. She shook her head. “My thanks, Glenna, but I doona want anything from Valor.”

  “This you need,” her sister of the sword said firmly, her physical form fading, except for the brilliance of her blue eyes. “This you want, Lana.”

  Lana could think of nothing she wanted in this life other than Keegan. She looked through her lashes at what remained of Glenna, and felt a deep wariness spread through her blood.

  “You must trust me,” Glenna said, her gaze soft and supportive. “This you want, my sister. Please trust me.”

  Lana nodded that she did, and then reeled back in shock.

  A sudden hurt seared into her chest. It pierced her heart and knocked her breathlessly to her left side. Gasping for air, she clutched at her chest in distress, quivering in terror.

  “Trust me,” Glenna urged softly, almost pleadingly.

  It felt like an open wound had been burned closed by the breath of flames, except it was inside her. Lana thought the end of her life had finally come. Then something magical happened. The searing pain receded like foamy waves upon a smooth shore, leaving a feeling of wellness and vigor in its wake.

  “It be done,” Glenna and Valor replied in one harmonious voice, reverberating inside her trembling body.

  Lana struggled to push up to a sitting position. She felt lightheaded and disjointed.

  “Hurts no more?”

  Lana gave a slow nod, unsure of what just happened. She took a recovering breath and shoved hair out of her eyes.

  “You be the last descendant of the sword, Lana.”

  “What?” Lana asked, fighting the lingering effects of the disorientation.

  “You must listen now, Lana. The time of pain be over.”

  Lana sat up straighten Taking a deep breath, she gestured she was ready to listen.

  “You be the last descendant of the sword, Lana. Never forget this.”

  “I will not ever forget,” she said and then asked, “What have you done to me?”

  “Healed your heart.”

  Overwhelmed by the possibility of it, Lana bowed her head and blinked back tears, but Valor was not yet finished with her.

  “Listen well now, Lana. We must speak of what has happened. Your birth father be no more. He died from his wandering and foolish ways.”

  “My father?” Lana echoed in alarm, and looked up.

  “Not the father at home, Lana,” the dual voices reassured. “We speak of the one your mother took to her bed that long ago night, your true birth father. You understand this.”

  Lana nodded, the dread within her waning. Aye, she knew this. Valor’s connection to all those carrying the blood of the sorceress flowed through her as well. When she first joined with Valor, all knowledge of the sacred sword spirit became hers. Her mother had taken a man other than her husband to her bed. That man had been a true blood heir of the sorceress.

  “There be no other living heir, no other blooded kin of the sorceress. All prospects for the future fall to you, Lana.”

  Lana swiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her right hand. “How do you know my birth father is dead?” she demanded.

  “Valor knows,” Glenna answered, her voice separating from the sword spirit’s tone for just a moment. “She kept it from you for her own reasons.”

  Questioning the sword spirit to learn the reasons was hopeless, Lana knew. She turned away from the hurtful light, no longer able to see Glenna within its white embrace.

  “What future falls to me, Glenna?” She hoped her obligations to the sword spirit were finished.

  “You must give birth to the next daughter of the sword, Lana.”

  Lana grimaced and turned away. “I canna do it,” she replied.

  “Why?”

 
“My moon time comes but rarely. The simpler of my tribe has said my body would never be able to carry a child. As a sick tree does not bear fruit, so too an unfit body does not bear children.”

  They ignored her. “Foolishness. Take a strong male to your bed. Valor wants her daughters.”

  “I am unfit to have children, Valor.”

  “Lie with a male, Lana.” The joined voices were quietly amused, but final in their command. “Your body be healthy now and will accept a male’s seed.”

  Lana immediately thought of Keegan. He was the only male she ever wanted in her bed. But why did she feel dread whenever her thoughts strayed to him?

  “ ‘Tis time to go our separate ways, Lana of the noble heart.”

  In a burst of light, Glenna was gone, leaving only the shimmering blade of Valor on the ground before her.

  Lana looked down at her hands. Was she finally free? she wondered. Had she awakened from this impossible existence of both dream and nightmare? Her thoughts returned to Keegan once more. Punishment? Had something happened to her guardian mate? Images in mist danced just beyond her memory. She could not remember, but it would come back to her. She felt sure of it.

  Trembling slightly, she smoothed the glossy folds of the sea-colored gown across her thighs. She ran her hands up and down her bare arms and noted the absence of the silver dragonfly cuffs. She had no recollection of their disappearance. Had she lost them without knowing? Had Valor taken them because they were a fey gift of bride approval for a guardian of the waters? More likely that, she thought in silence. The sword spirit was immeasurably jealous of her hosts, fiercely resentful, and horribly vindictive when wronged.

  Covering her eyes, she released a deep sigh, her lungs filling with the weight of her trepidation.

  Another full breath came and left, unperceived and unrestricted.

  Resting her hand on her chest, she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs to a capacity never experienced before.

  No tightness did she feel.

  No discomfort.

  Inside her body, the rhythmic beat of a healthy heart continued unhindered.

  She did not wheeze.

  Did not cough.

  She did not feel weak or lightheaded.

  Tears caught and gleamed in eyelashes, spilling like jewels upon her cheeks.

  She felt whole and healthy, and with that came the feeling of value.

  She was valuable.

  Something else nudged the edges of her memories, too. It came through a veil of white mist and Lana drew back in horror. Eyes widening, she bit back a scream. Keegan!

  “DESTROYER OF GUARDIAN.”

  Lana startled. Turning around, she searched for the chiding female voice. From the shadows, a willowy figure of white stepped forward. “I AM BLODENWEDD.”

  Lana immediately recognized the fey born goddess from Valor’s shared memories. “THEY CUT OFF HIS WINGS,” she choked out, feeling jerked back into the nightmare.

  “BECAUSE OF YOU,” the goddess accused.

  Lana shook her head in rapid denial. “Nay, I love him.”

  “LOVE?” Blodenwedd laughed caustically at her, her eyes gleaming with hatred.

  Lana reached for Valor’s hilt. “TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED, VALOR,” she demanded of the sword spirit. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?” Valor gave her the images that had been blocked from her perception. The sword spirit filled her mind with such vibrancy and jealousy it felt as if she stood beside him on that awful day.

  Her guardian mate knelt willingly, wrists lashed to stone pillars.

  A sword swung high, glinting the arrival of twilight, and then descended.

  Wings and muscles cut, first one and then the other.

  Blood splattered the sky and land.

  Lana screamed… and Valor willingly released her.

  The horrific images faded to grayness.

  She wept uncontrollably, dragging in great gulps of cool air. She knew Keegan felt deserving of this punishment for his forbidden desire for her, but he was wrong, so terribly wrong. “How could you?” she spat out in grief, gripping Valor’s hilt with the vengeance of one who had been deeply hurt. “You had no right to punish him.” She smashed the sword on the ground in an outburst of temper and challenge. “No right. I initiated the mating, not him. He lay ill and I took advantage. I did it. You know the goodness of his spirit. How could you hurt him?”

  Valor offered no remorse and Lana really did not expect any. Valor was a true dark feminine spirit, zealous in her jealousy. She looked down at her right hand, fingers pale and white wrapped around a spiral-cut bone hilt. “I wish I could hate you,” she mumbled in desolation and ragged tears. “I wish I could hate you, Valor.”

  “DESTROYER OF GUARDIAN.”

  Slowly, Lana looked up at the unkind goddess who stood watching her. She clung to the image of Keegan, knowing he lived, knowing he needed her, and tapped into her dark strength to overcome her anguish.

  “DO YOU KNOW WHERE HE IS, BLODENWEDD?”

  “Think I tell you, ever?”

  Lana climbed to her feet, the magical sword an extension of her right arm. Since joining with Valor, her spirit had become bold and courageous. No longer was she the innocent farm girl. She met the goddess’s gaze and saw death watching.

  “Blodenwedd, I give you fair warning,” she said, her mind becoming clearer.

  “WARN ME?” the goddess shrieked.

  “Aye,” Lana replied coolly, “if you think me the frail girl I once was, you are sadly mistaken. I have lived within the sword spirit Valor, lived her memories as if they were my own, lived her intentions as if they were my own, wore her bloodshed as if it were my own skin. Do you think you can frighten me?” She held the enchanted blade with authority. “I know all about you, Blodenwedd. Valor has shared her memories with me.”

  “MEMORIES,” the goddesses said sarcastically.

  “She says you are a selfish goddess capable of great hatred, but also of unusual sacrifice. Because of this, I will not hurt you. At least not yet.”

  The goddess shot her a furious glare. Besides beauty, Lana knew the fey born valued strength above all else, so it was what she showed. “Valor thinks you wish to kill me. That is why she insists I not release her.” She balanced the sword easily in her right hand.

  “VALOR BE WISE, DESTROYER OF GUARDIAN.”

  “Mayhap I am this thing you call me,” Lana admitted reluctantly. “Never did I intend to hurt him, Blodenwedd. I would give my life for him. You must believe me.”

  “DESTROYER.”

  The goddess made her judgment and nothing she could say would convince the perfect one otherwise.

  “Aye, well,” Lana sighed. There would be no reasoning with this one. She must go on the offensive. “Know this, Blodenwedd. If you do succeed in killing me, do you think you will ever be safe from Valor’s wrath? What your high king did to my guardian mate is nothing compared to what will be done to you.”

  The goddess hissed at her, white teeth bared in recognition of her words. Lana felt certain Blodenwedd intended to exact retribution for the unfair punishment the guardian suffered. She could not fault the territorial goddess for it.

  Turning her back on the irate goddess in a sign of dismissal, Lana knew she must keep up the appearance of strength and purpose. She walked to the large sword altar that cradled Answerer. It was where Valor belonged.

  “I love Keegan, Blodenwedd. I would never knowingly hurt him.”

  She stood in front of the crystal altar. Flowing weaves of amber and bronze webs draped its sides. Gently, she laid Valor next to the great defender, Answerer, the blade that inflicted only mortal wounds. She felt the goddess come up behind her.

  Releasing Valor, she pulled her hands back to her sides.

  Memories of all things linked to the sorceress wavered within her until only a single thread remained, a thread of unending awareness.

  Above the altar, a single wall torch cast shadow and light upon the blades and the silence.

  �
�Your fey defenders are beautiful,” Lana murmured. “Keegan protected Valor and Valor protected our lands from the invaders. Come and look upon your defenders.”

  The goddess moved into her peripheral vision, her blond hair nearly as bright as sunlight.

  Lana returned her attention to the exquisite weapons. They looked nothing alike. Answerer had a golden hilt and an elegant, leaf-shaped blade, epitomizing a weapon of a powerful male warrior deity, like Keegan. Valor’s form was cast for a warrior goddess, her deadly blade longer and without a blood groove.

  Lana watched Blodenwedd reach for Valor’s hilt. Long, perfectly tapered fingers wrapped around spiral-cut bone.

  The goddess pulled back with a startled cry as if burned.

  Lifting her gown, Lana stepped back and bowed her head respectfully to the two great defenders of the fey born. Mayhap Blodenwedd understood what would happen to her if she let her hatred rule.

  Lana glanced at Valor one last time. Resentment and bitterness mingled with a kind of regret she could not explain. Valor was part of her as Keegan was part of her. The two were forever enemies, but her heart would always decide her true choice. Her gaze rested on the fine magical craftsmanship of the slender blade. No one would ever know, nor would she ever reveal, Valor was the only sword which could defeat the great Answerer, the sword that inflicted only mortal wounds.

  Lana met the goddess’s vindictive gaze, sure in its judgment and blame. “If you will not take me to Keegan, Blodenwedd, may I ask you take me to Derina instead?”

  ———

  It took Keegan a long time to make his way back to the river valley and Dowth, the Faery Mound of Darkness. Spread across the rolling green landscape were sacred dolmans and freestanding stone circles constructed of the common granite boulders. No longer could he wink in and out of place, for they cut the magical part of him away and made him forever blemished.

  He could not think of it without becoming sick inside, without laying blame and anger for what had been, in his mind at least, a just punishment.