Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series)

by Strong, Jennifer

  Micah watched her with a restless calm, his eyes not hiding his thoughts very well. "How do you know whether we want you or not?" he asked, his voice still rough with his earlier bout of screaming, but sounding closer to normal by the minute. Ailill met his intense gaze with one that matched.

  "Doyou?"

  "Do I what?" There was a light in Micah's eyes, almost a flirtatiousness that drew her compulsively closer, though she fought it. He stared at her, wanting, selfishly, to hear the words from her own lips.

  "Do you want me?" She was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her mind on the important task she had set on her plate. "Do you honestly believe that I can compete with your twin in your heart?" Much to her chagrin, Ailill looked from one to the other and blushed.

  "Do youhonestly think that either of us can compete with that perfect, beautiful, Scottish giant, Tiernan MacDuff?" Micah said in the same vein.

  In frustration, Ailill stood quite suddenly, turning away from the look of blatant desire in Micah's eyes, the wanting he had spoken of the day after they had gone further than just kissing for the first time. A deeply buried, completely alien, sense of jealousy made her wonder if the wanting extended to his twin, though she refused to believe such thoughts, whether she had voiced them or not. Turning back to the dark heads of the men, her menwhether she wished it or not, Ailill said, "this is nota competition. This is my life! I must go back; there are obligations which I must fulfill whether you like it or whether you hate it. Whether you want to be with me or be rid o' me. Do you wish to join with me in a blood vow or not? Either way, I will be leaving soon. I am a warrior. I go to battle while you stay within the relative safety of this mountain's shadow! Aye," she snarled, full of contempt at seeing the looks of surprise mirrored on the handsome faces before her. "The safety here is not but a ruse; an enchantment; battles rage throughout the world. An insane mass of survivors, the Rogues, intent on bringing the last dregs o' mankind into the role of slaves to a Dark Lord... an blaigeard, an cluipear. It would not matter, except that so many of those involved are a part o' me, a wee bit enchanted. I have no choice but to fight for my own blood."

  It was easier to feel anger toward the two men; the thought of leaving them to their own devices made her heart ache with an unavoidable despair. With one last searching glance, Ailill slowly turned away, stalking off into the wood for a few moments of much needed privacy. When she returned, awhile later, the two were sitting close, their dark heads bent together, so deep in a whispered conversation that neither noticed that she was there. Out of a sense of propriety, Ailill stood on the perimeter of the small clearing, giving them their moment, their chance to weigh the odds of what she had proposed, though she had purposely left out nearly every bit of telling information regarding herself. Studying the two unawares, she noticed that their usual interaction, the intimacy which was a normal part of their odd relationship, was somewhat stifled. They were not sitting close enough to touch as they usually did; the long, muscular arms did not even brush against one another. It seemed strange to her, seeing a wall being built up that she had started, though that had not been her intention. Ailill decided that she did not like it one bit.

  Both dark heads, one striped with a stark white bandage, came up at once at her polite throat-clearing, the only sound that Ailill could think to make that would not curdle each man's blood, when they had still not noticed her after a good ten minutes had passed.

  "Do ye wish your wounds to be healed?" she said by way of greeting as she sidled cautiously closer, noting the dark intensity of each man's gaze, the look of expectation. "I believe it would be in your own best interest, whether you wish to accompany me or no."

  Micah held her gaze long enough for Ailill to see that same spark of wanting in the dark depths of his eyes. When he smiled, she truly felt as if her heart were about to become a warm, gooey puddle at her feet. "Will it hurt?" he asked warily, trying not to show how frightened he was. Jacob could heal him, he knew, though it might take some time. The pool of which Ailill had so casually spoken was beside the strange, otherworldly doorway. He remembered the tang of sulfurous water in the warm, humid air of the chamber below the earth; and he remembered the darkness; a smothering dark where he had not been able to see his own hand in front of his face after the torches of the three people had passed through the doorway. It had been the most frightening moment of his life, after being set upon by the shimmering giant, who had kindly demanded that he give Ailill up, or else. Tiernan had not been a dream shared by the two brothers, though neither would admit any different. The demands of the man were not likely to be met, as long as Micah had any say in the matter, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that he might be able to hold onto this girl for at least awhile longer. Blood vows were serious business, as he had just explained to Jacob; far more binding than any simple matrimonial ceremony, if all that he had read about them was even close to the truth. It seemed a quick and simple means to an end, avowing her to him with a few drops of blood.

  "No, Micah. You will feel healthier than you ever have, after," Ailill answered truthfully. "Though you may have to bathe more than once in the healing waters, given the extent of your injury." Watching his face, so full of indecision, Ailill sighed softly, the sound drawing the attention of both up to her face. "I wish you would...mphmm...what I mean is, I am asking ye to please, at least come and see it for yourselves. Yon fairy pool. You may wish to use it occasionally, after I am gone from here, though you cannot bring any who are not of the Chosen into the mound; it would have to be only the two of you." A shadow crossed her features, darkening her eyes with intense feeling briefly before she looked away, retrieving her pack and rifle from beside the well. Both men stood slowly and followed her toward the massive stone mound, the entrance, a different one than Micah had used before, unseen until Ailill pulled aside a curtain of deep green pine boughs, revealing a jagged rent in the granite facing which led into a pitch black tunnel.

  Turning back, Ailill pulled a pair of long chains from her pocket and held them out. "You'll have need of these, for protection," she said softly, a slight tremor audible in her husky voice. "Do ye put them on, close to your skin, over your heart." Casting a glance at one another, both Jacob and Micah reached for the unusual chains made of interlaced silver and gold, a two-inch crystalline pendant hanging from each that glowed softly in the dim of the shadowy cleft, sparkling with all the colors of a prism before settling on a pinkish hue when the stone touched against the flesh of each man, the unusual gem warming instantly to body temperature.

  "What do we need protection from?" Unease was clear in the huskiness of Micah's voice; he sounded half strangled, afraid to venture forth into the dark crevasse. Ailill turned to him, a glint in her eye as she looked him over carefully. When she smiled, he smiled back though it did not reach his eyes.

  "From the ghosts, o' course." The urge to laugh was strong when she saw the look of wary caution mirrored at once on Jacob's face. "Ye saw them before, Micah, when you ventured into the tunnels unannounced. Did ye not?" Grinning mischievously, Ailill muttered to herself about superstitious lads being worse than frightened weans and turned away, pausing to light a torch made of tightly bound pine branches before leading them into the darkness.

  "Wait, Abby." Jacob moved up beside her, taking the flaming torch from her hands, a look of anticipation in his deep blue eyes that caught Ailill's attention at once. Glancing over at his twin, he smiled sheepishly. "I guess I should tell ya, I'm sorry. I mean it; that should count for something."

  Shrugging slightly, Ailill nodded, a sense of relief washing over her. It would bode ill for them all to take bad feelings with them into the dun. Blinking up at Micah, she stepped in before Jacob's long, lean form, knowing that there was no turning back now.

  Healing Waters

  The moment she stepped into the darkness, an eerie feeling of homecoming came over her, as if the dun had been awaiting her return. She relaxed instantly and lead the way through a
narrow passageway; barely wide enough for the broad shoulders of the two sizable men at the entrance, the hallway widened bit by bit as the trio made their way along the gently sloping floor, descending deeper beneath the earth with each step. Near the end of the three-hundred foot long passage, the floor dropped off suddenly where it would lead into a wide circular room two feet down. She tread cautiously, throwing out her sense of direction so that she would not lead the two straight to broken legs near the bottom.

  The raw, pungent smell of sulfur accosted Ailill's sensitive sinus cavity, making her sneeze, and Micah's fingers grasped her arm, holding her back just before she toppled over the edge of a dark abyss. His long fingers held tight, seeking the warmth, the comfort, of the tiny woman.

  "Stay here with me for just a second and close your eyes," he whispered, leaning close, giving her a tender kiss as Jacob stopped and peered over the edge. His arms wrapped snugly about her waist, bringing to Ailill's attention a gentle tremor coursing through him. He was truly frightened and she held him close for a moment, wondering if it was still too soon. Jacob was whispering to himself, the sound coming to Ailill's ears in the form of a chant; a very ancient chant by the sound of it, one to ward off evil entities. Her grandmother had taught him well in so short a time, she mused, both surprised and pleased that his own sense of the hallowness of the place had kicked in. Eyes closed, Ailill noted the humidity of the underground chamber. She knew exactly where she was; a trickle of perspiration running down her spine made her shiver in anticipation. Misinterpreting the slight tremble as a sign of fear, Micah grasped her harder.

  "Ignis fatuus. Teine Sith."

  At her soft-spoken command, the chamber lit up with a suddenness that made Micah jump and stare around the circular chamber in open-mouthed wonder. It could not be the same place he had been before, and yet, he knew it was. His face broke out in a grin when he saw his twin smiling over at him; letting go of the woman's warmth, he scrambled over the edge of the berm after Jacob, onto the smooth stone floor below, turning back to look up at Ailill. She looked nearly as awed as Micah had looked and both men stood near the drop-off, watching her with a wary satisfaction for a moment before each took her by the hands and lifted her down from the stone shelf. Their heads tipped back, to see above.

  The room was brightly lit by the lively flickering of torches which lined the wall in ornate stone sconces at two foot intervals along the full circumference of the circular room, lending to it a welcoming air after the darkness and shadows of the passageway. Micah found that he was instantly relaxed, as if he were ensconced in safety, a warm womb, away from any harm at all; the way that he had felt since the first day he had reveled in the warmth of the tiny, fiery woman, sharing a first kiss in the darkness of her parent's kitchen; he smiled at Jacob. Pleased as punch at the wondrous treasure so far below the mountain, Jacob grinned back, gazed around the room from the top, down.

  Every square inch of the perfectly rounded, bowl shaped ceiling had been painstakingly chiseled with hundreds of triskeles, the connected triple spirals exactly like the ones seen in dolmens across Scotland, across Ireland. A beautiful foot-wide pattern of interlacing Celtic knots along the curved juncture of ceiling and wall ran the circumference of the dome, followed by various geometric and zigzag carvings interspersed over the walls.

  Jacob and Micah stood directly before Ailill, side by side, forming a wall that effectively blocked her line of sight, giving her no choice but to look at them. Her eyes were bright with moisture, a deep shade of amethyst in the light of the torches; lips the color of ripe cherries were parted, forming a small oval, a panting breath at each familiar sight. When they had her attention at last, the two men parted for her to lead the way, eyes glued to her beautiful face as her gaze traveled downward, over each. Her heart fluttered hard in her chest at sight of them, their natural darkness lit by the fiery walls, two living flames.

  "Sweet Brigit, but ye truly belong here," she breathed shakily, gripping the hands she was holding with sudden strength, pulling the men along with her as she moved forward, drawn to the edge of a still, black pool that ran from the center of the granite floor to the far wall. "Tis more exquisite than I remembered. Ye add much to the beauty o' my dun." The torchlight danced and shimmered over the glassy surface, giving the impression that the water held living fire within it's very depths, a misty steam suspended mere inches above the hot spring adding a smokiness to the overall impression.

  Placing a smooth knuckle beneath Ailill's chin to draw her gaze, Micah smiled down at her, his eyes full of love and tenderness. "We know how much you like to bathe in hot water, Abby," he said softly. "Even though you have no wounds to speak of, would you like to try the spring with us?"

  "We'd be pleased, Ailill. It's incredible," Jacob added, pulling the strap of her rifle up and over her head. "Y'all belong here more than us. It looks like it'd feel great." His own eyes gleamed in the firelight, his teeth a brilliant shade of white when he smiled down into her eyes, making her blink.

  She hesitated, eying the man closely. "This is a fairy pool. You should be wary, perhaps a bit frightened. A powerful place, this."

  "Yeah? Well, I am fine," Jacob argued gently, pulling her over to a stone bench along the wall and sitting her down. "Not a bit scairt, and why should I be? I don't even really need the healing whatever y'all believe is in the water, now. See." He pulled the bandages from his hands, waggling long, perfectly shaped fingers before her eyes, showing Ailill that the stitches she had made last night were no longer there, the deep cuts healed. And he truly believed she'd nothing to do with that. "Will you try it? For us?"

  "But, Micah's head..." Her voice trailed off, her gaze drawn back to the still water. Eying the steaming pool with longing, Ailill pulled loose the lacings of her knee-high moccasins and looked around, reading the various symbols within view from where she sat. Jacob and Micah knelt down before her, sliding the soft leather from her tiny feet, each man watching her intently, the struggle to deny herself visible in the expression on her face. Her gaze skimmed over a variety of cup and ring markings, each ranging from two to twelve inches in width, carved along the edge of the chamber floor, eyes moving back and forth over the surface before coming to rest on a three-foot long symbol which seemed to be pointing toward the pool. She stood abruptly, her toes curling against the chilly stone below her bare feet, staring down at the carving of an ankh on the floor. Dozens of tiny, child-sized footprints extended out from the symbol, running parallel to the edge of the steaming pool. A chill crawled up her spine.

  "Did you wear the stone about your neck?" Ailill looked back over her shoulder, obviously distracted by each new thing that caught her eye; she'd never given the carvings much thought before. Hadn't bothered with light the last time she had been there. "Aye, that is good," she murmured when she saw Jacob hold up a long chain, the two inch crystal glowing softly where it dangled from the edge of the metal. She turned to face the two men, a light flickering in the blue of her eyes. "Please keep wearing the ones I gave you; it's not exactly safe here." Especially for me, voice whispered at the back of her mind.

  Both men pulled the pendants from beneath their shirts, eyeballing the luminescent stones curiously, though neither questioned her. Ailill watched as the crystals slid back down over the warm skin of Micah's and then Jacob's chest; each stone brightened momentarily, taking on all of the colors of the rainbow before ending up a deep shade of blue that matched their eyes, a much more fortuitous color than the pink of earlier, a color which had shown fear within them both. The color decided her and, flashing a pleased smile, Ailill quickly doffed her clothes and slipped into the warm pool.

  Lightly scented with sulfur, the hot mineral-laden water had an almost oily consistency, adding a softness to the soothing heat as it washed over Ailill's flesh, the warmth loosening muscles she hadn't realized were tight, making her sigh in ecstasy. Cautiously feeling her way around the pool, using her feet to guide her movements past a stone bench carved into th
e well beneath the surface of the water, Ailill stopped in the center and submerged herself completely, holding her head under the nearly scalding water for as long as she could stand it before resurfacing with an explosive breath.

  Seated on the flat edge of the spring, still fully clothed, both Jacob and Micah watched as Ailill's lightweight body bobbed up and down in the steaming water. The pool deepened towards the center, the glassy surface still yet a full foot higher than the top of her head when she placed her feet flat on the warmed stone bottom. Treading water, her breasts floated up, only the upper halves visible, the rest lost in the shadowy depths; a stark contrast to the firelight reflecting off the water, shining brightly against the twists of silver and gold around Ailill's neck and wrists, sparking off the coppery highlights in her long hair, painting the smooth lines of her flesh with a warm, golden glow. When she moved to float on her back in the relaxing warmth, the flames shimmered in the many facets of the tiny gem pierced through the right side of her small knife-edged nose, mini sparks of fire as her head turned this way and that; her eyes, a deepening amethyst in the vermilion firelight, roamed hungrily over the chiseled designs on ceiling and walls, settled on an ornately etched arch, hidden in plain sight on one wall; she stared at it thoughtfully for a long while before pulling her gaze away. With a small secretive smile, Ailill met the eyes of each man, a new and unusual flame burning in the depths of her steady gaze. She wanted to go home; neither had passed her small test thus far. It looked as if she was stuck here for a while longer.

  "Will you be joinin' me then?" she asked in her oddly low-pitched lilt, watching the eyes of each man travel slowly over her nude body suspended over the surface of the heavy water. Her eyes were luminous, glowing with an inner light. Two pair of dark, laughing eyes met them at once. "You need to heal." Her gaze lifted to Micah's bandaged head.