Scion of the Sun

by Nicola Marsh

  Nan had this habit of snipping off large bunches and then grumbling about it while I’d nod and smile, totally distracted by my book. Though I did like hearing her talk about the herbs and what they were useful for. Maybe it was the nerd in me hungry for facts, but when Nan used to drone on about lavender and its relaxation properties or the hundred and one uses for basil, I’d lower my book and really listen, soothed by her gentle voice.

  Nan had been like that with me always: patient, comforting, reliable. That I couldn’t turn to her at a time like this left me lonelier than I’d ever been in my life.

  “Memories are important. They give us strength to face the future.”

  I managed a tight smile. Another thing I liked about Joss: his ability to say the right thing.

  We’d barely made it halfway up the path when the front door flew open. Uriel was nothing like I expected. Petite and curvy, with frizzy blonde hair, pale skin, and brown eyes bordering on black, she was the opposite of Joss in every way. There was not even a glimmer of resemblance. The religious pendant she wore captured my attention and my surprise shot into the stratosphere.

  “Welcome, Holly, I’m so glad to meet you.”

  “Same here, Mrs. … ” Belatedly, I realized I didn’t know Joss’s surname.

  “Call me Uriel, please.” She clasped my hands, her skin warm and rough, the fingertips callused. “Come in.”

  Joss was enjoying my shock. I could see it in the wry gleam in his eyes, the upward curve of his lips he fought.

  I surreptitiously pointed at the gold cross hanging around his mom’s neck and prominently embroidered on her tunic. I lowered my voice. “You didn’t tell me your mom was Christian.”

  “Does it matter?” He ushered me into his home. “My mom died when I was three, my dad a few years later. Uriel was my nanny. She’s been here ever since.”

  An apology seemed too trite, but I had to say something; if I could speak past the lump stuck in my throat, that is. “I’m sorry, about your folks.”

  “I am too.” He stared into the distance, his jaw rigid, a vein pulsing beneath the skin over his temple. When he finally refocused on me, the bleakness in his eyes made me want to hug him.

  Glancing away before I embarrassed us both, I realized the house was set away from the others, the last in the grove, and it suddenly made sense. “The community doesn’t accept her?”

  “The Innerworld reflects New York culture, so we’re cosmopolitan.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “You know, Eiros is based on an ancient druid culture. People are still wary of those who aren’t solely Bel worshippers.”

  “Does that prejudice toward Uriel extend to you, even though you’re part of the Sorority?”

  His eye roll didn’t make sense, not when he was such a vital part of that tight-knit foursome. What could be more important than being the warrior of the Scion?

  “My father was a warrior, a direct descendant from the Red Branch, the highest order of warriors in Eiros. No one can take that away from me.”

  No matter how hard they tried. He didn’t say it, but I could see it in the despondency blurring his proud features and I instantly hated the entire prejudiced community for hurting the guy I cared about. “You’re bound by all this ancient legend. But what about Uriel? Why does she stick around?”

  He blushed and I knew the answer before he spoke. “Because of me.”

  She loved him that much. Something I could understand the more time I spent with him. Before I could think, I touched his arm. “You don’t like that?”

  He glanced at my hand, his remote expression softening for a moment before he shrugged it off. “I think she’d be happier elsewhere, but she’s here for me, and that makes me responsible.”

  “You can’t be responsible for everybody.”

  His withering glare told me he could.

  “Why don’t they accept her fully?”

  His frown deepened. “Because most are descendants from the Druids. If you’re not … ” He glanced across at the house and his pained expression made me want to gather him and Uriel in a group hug. “It’s nothing overt, and she has good friends here, but there’s this undercurrent that reeks of old-school hierarchy I can’t stand even for her sake.”

  “Does she mind?”

  He held a finger up to his lips as footsteps headed toward us.

  Uriel waved us inside. “Joss, where are your manners? Show our guest around.”

  His softening expression banished the shadows of non-acceptance by a cliquey society, the hint of little boy adoring his mom making me melt all over again.

  “Your room’s ready, Holly. Joss can show you, then you can join me in the kitchen for a snack.”

  “Thanks.”

  Please don’t let me be sleeping in his old room, the sane part of me silently begged, while another part pleaded, Please let me be in his old room so I can snoop around and discover everything I can about him.

  I didn’t know whether to smile in relief or cringe in disappointment when he said, “You’re in the guest room.”

  I followed him down a long, narrow hallway before he flung open a door. “Here you go. Clothes in the wardrobe. Girly stuff in the bathroom across the hall.”

  “Girly stuff?”

  “Makeup and soap and crap,” he said, blushing, reminding me no matter how manly he acted, he couldn’t be more than a few years older than me.

  “How old—”

  “Eighteen,” he said, his disgust making it sound like he was ten. “Mack’s twenty-five, Oscar’s twenty.” Being the youngest in a pack of alpha males explained his disgust.

  Personally, I thought it was beyond cool he was eighteen. Crushing on an older dude would’ve been beyond pathetic. I’d seen unrequited love with classmates at Wolfebane High having the hots for older brothers, college guys, and it always ended in tears. I’d been there myself, with that moron Colt, of all people. Ogling him from my prime viewing spot several branches up our oldest oak when he went swimming in the lake in summer, hanging around in the garden when I knew he was due home, leaving my bedroom window open at night so I could hear the music he liked to listen to as I drifted off to sleep.

  Thankfully, spending time with him in his family home after Nan’s stroke had dispelled whatever delusions of love I’d ever harbored. Colt was a dick.

  While Joss … he was a guy I could definitely fall for. Crazy, since I still didn’t understand how this whole Innerworld and Outerworld thing worked, but a girl had to have a little fun daydreaming while figuring out how to save the world.

  Thankfully, he kept silent for once, and I kept my head down and entered the room. Small and neat, with a bed covered in a handmade quilt, a dresser, and a chair, totally unremarkable in every way but for the symbols engraved on the wooden panels covering the walls and ceiling.

  “Wow.”

  I turned around, tilting my head back to inspect overhead until I got a crick.

  “Many of these symbols offer protection.”

  Ah … so that’s why I was staying here.

  “What do they all mean?”

  He pointed to the first, a sign that looked like three legs running. “Triskelion stands for competition and man’s progress.” His finger moved to a triangular shape next. “Triquetra, a holy symbol for spirit, nature, the cosmos.”

  He traced the outline of three interlinked spirals. “The Triple Spiral represents the three powers of maiden, mother, and crone. It’s a sign for female power, especially through transition and growth.”

  Boy, did I need that one. Maybe I should start wearing it, though I’d never gone in for jewelry. “What’s the single spiral next to it mean?”

  “Ethereal energy. Also symbolizes birth, growth, expanding of consciousness.”

  I’d already seen the five-fold on Dyfan’s door, and the cross was familiar to almost everyone in the universe, but the next symbol I couldn’t recognize.

  Joss had already turned away and was heading for the door when I l
aid a hand on his arm. “You missed one.”

  He faltered, cluing me in that his omission was deliberate.

  After staring at my hand for a moment, he eventually dragged his gaze upward to meet mine, and what I saw sent a jolt of alarm through me.

  Bone-chilling fear.

  In the time I’d spent with him, I’d seen many emotions in those expressive blue eyes, but never fear. What could be frightening enough to make my valiant warrior scared?

  “You’ll spend your life coming to understand that symbol and what it means for you, for Eiros.”

  I released his arm, trying to hide my growing panic as I pointed to the symbol he hadn’t named yet. “All very profound, but what is that?”

  His solemnity scared me more than his earlier avoidance.

  “The Three Rays. Celtic symbol of the Triple Flame. Arwen.”

  I gawked at the three vertical lines that angled toward each other at one end. How could anything so simple, so innocuous, be my destiny? Shouldn’t it be larger, bolder, and more dramatic?

  I half expected a miracle to happen, but the symbol remained unchanged, as did I. No prickling, no heat, not even a hint, and I let out a little huff of relief while a small part of me, the part that still doubted my place in all this, was disappointed.

  According to Dyfan, one of my tasks was to become one with the Triple Flame. Staring at the small, inoffensive symbol, I couldn’t imagine how this thing could be so important in my quest.

  “That’s what I’m supposed to find?”

  He shook his head. “This is merely a symbol of Arwen. No one knows what the icon actually looks like.”

  “So it’s just a symbol like the rest?”

  He nodded. “It all traces back to Bel. The sun produced heat, and ultimately, fire. Ancient Celts were aware of the fire’s spiritually transformative properties, so they placed the Three Flames on the faces of their clansmen and women.”

  He held up three fingers, folding the middle one in half. “The flames were drawn in lines upward and outward on the subject’s forehead, the base of the three lines meeting at the bridge of the nose.”

  He held up his fingers over my forehead but not touching, and even with a few inches separating us, I could feel the prickle of heat in the middle of my forehead.

  “The motif is symbolic of Arwen, a Celtic concept of enlightenment, inspiration, and unification of polarities.”

  He’d lost me with all the psychobabble, but I sure could do with a healthy dose of enlightenment. As for the inspiration, I already had that. I was looking straight at him. “Huh?”

  “It means a calm balance struck between opposites, like male and female, physical and ethereal.”

  I focused on the symbol tied to my destiny, surprisingly numb. Surely I should feel something? Some kind of buzz, a link?

  “When the time is right, you’ll feel it, become one with it,” he said, heading for the door. “Mom’s probably dying of curiosity by now. Let’s go put her out of her misery.”

  Nodding, I followed him, glancing over my shoulder at the symbols scattered across the walls like stars on a wizard’s cape. For a second I could’ve sworn Arwen glowed, but when I blinked it was as lifeless as the rest. Dismissing it as a trick of the pale morning grayness filtering through a small, high window, I headed for another interesting meeting with the inhabitants of Eiros.

  Word must’ve spread of my first official morning in Eiros, because when I stepped into the light-filled kitchen, the six-seater table was crammed to capacity.

  “Good to see you, Holly.” Mack waved, his smile genuinely welcoming.

  “Ditto,” said Maeve, bouncing in her seat like a hyperactive toddler. “Can’t wait to show you more stuff today.”

  Oscar lifted a hand in a half-hearted wave.

  I didn’t know the next person, a woman who stood and waved me over to the vacant chair next to her. “Come child, sit by me.”

  I bristled at the child tag but did as I was told, sensing the group held their collective breaths, waiting for me to blow a fuse. I sat and mustered a smile. “I’m Holly.”

  “I know, dear.”

  I didn’t like the hint of condescension in her tone. There was something about her I couldn’t put my finger on, an aloofness that bordered on scorn, like she’d sized me up as the chosen one and found me sadly lacking.

  Up close, she had the most bizarre eyes I’d ever seen: violet, with tiny gold flecks making them sparkle. “I’m Bedelia. My friends call me Lia.”

  “Lia’s our chief healer,” Mack said, slightly starry-eyed as Lia beamed at him.

  Ah … so it was like that.

  “Medicine woman,” Maeve chirped up, also gawking at Lia with blatant admiration.

  “Witch,” Oscar muttered, earning a beatific smile from the ash-blonde woman.

  “Thank you for acknowledging my Wiccan powers among my more human talents, Oscar.”

  While her words were harmless enough, her exaggerated saccharine-sweet tone wasn’t, and I inadvertently leaned away from her. I didn’t believe in witches or wizards unless they graced the pages of my favorite books. Then again, I’d never believed in mystical sun gods or lords of darkness or teleporting before.

  “Lia’s a good friend of mine,” Uriel said, placing a huge batch of warm lavender cookies in the middle of the table alongside apple cider, pumpkin scones, and tea cake. “She popped around to meet you before formalities commence.”

  Joss stood by the window, his back rigid, taking his protective role seriously. I’d wondered about his silence whenever the Sorority was together, and after learning his family’s story I wondered if some of that stemmed from insecurity, like he didn’t feel like he truly belonged. He’d said he felt responsible for tying Uriel to Eiros, but did he have any idea how much she loved him, how her mouth eased into a small smile every time she glanced his way?

  Funny thing was, I knew exactly how he was feeling. I’d often wondered if I was holding Nan back somehow, if she would’ve lived her life differently if she hadn’t had the responsibility of raising me—a responsibility she hadn’t asked for, but had been dumped with when my flaky mom took off.

  Mack offered me a cookie and I took one, hoping the lavender would relax me. I nibbled on it, the churning in my stomach not easing a bit.

  “By formalities, Lia means your structured lessons this morning.” Mack clasped his fingers tighter, placed them on the table, and leaned forward. “We’ll start with the basics, move on to cultural studies, and finish with some practical ogham.”

  I managed a mute nod, my brain already spinning into overload.

  “Then this afternoon we’ll take you to the Temple of Grian, and tomorrow, prepare for Beltane, which is next weekend.”

  Joss stiffened at the mention of the festival, and I expected him to interject and tell them of my vision. His silence surprised me, so I kept silent too, trusting him more than the rest of them put together.

  Lia startled me by taking hold of my hand and shoving some kind of bracelet onto it. My momentary struggle ceased when I saw the rest of them grinning. Except Oscar, of course, whose face would crack if he ever dared smile, and Joss, who continued to stare out the window, posture rigid.

  “This is why I’m here today, to initiate you into the magic of our forefathers.” Muttering some kind of incantation under her breath, she waved her fingers over the bracelet, some kind of braided fabric the color of mud, about an inch thick.

  If I ever went in for jewelry, I’d definitely pick something a lot less ugly than the bracelet, but the eager expressions on the faces around me quelled my urge to rip the thing off.

  After a few more seconds of chanting nonsense, Lia touched a fingertip to the bracelet. “I have placed a powerful protection spell into the rushes used to weave this bracelet. Wear it at all times.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered, increasingly daunted by the obsession about my protection. The symbols in the room, the bracelet, my very own warrior …

 
Standing, Lia did a funny little bow. “My work here is done.” Touching the pentagram pendant nestled in her cleavage, she muttered something else I couldn’t understand before performing the ritual open-palm, fingers-spread greeting with Mack. “Stay warm, Sorority.”

  Was “stay warm” the equivalent of “stay safe” around here? I caught Joss’s imperceptible nod a moment before he held the door open for Lia, who swept through it in a flurry of long white layered skirts and an emerald cloak that touched the floor.

  Uriel touched my shoulder, her smile gentle. “Don’t be intimidated, dear. Lia is a force of nature, but she’ll do the right thing by you, always.”

  “Uh-huh,” was all I managed before the Sorority descended on the food like a plague of locusts.

  I remained silent, nibbling on my lavender cookie, content to listen to the conversation drifting over me. Topics ranged from a reforestation project in the birch grove to ordering new ritual robes for the Sorority. Joss rarely spoke, offering his opinion when asked, while Uriel buzzed around like a doting mother hen, refilling glasses, topping up plates.

  It would’ve been a cozy scene, a casual chat over food, if not for the constant nagging feeling something wasn’t right.

  If Cadifor was on the verge of finding Arwen, and I was working against the clock to catch up, where was the urgency? They were so laid back they were almost horizontal. Or was this part of some great plan they had, to lull me into a false sense of security, to build my confidence, before revealing the true extent of what I faced?

  Regardless, I couldn’t bear another moment of inanity when so much was at stake.

  I pushed back from the table and stood. “Thanks for the snack, Uriel, but I need to start my lessons.”

  My gracious hostess didn’t blink at my abruptness, but merely smiled and started gathering dishes. “Of course, dear. Joss will give you a key to come and go as you please. I’ll be out for most of the weekend in preparation for Beltane.”

  The gold cross embroidered over her left breast drew my gaze, and I wondered how Uriel fit into the sun-worshipping community.