“Do you suppose she knows? About the portals?” Corann glanced at Isolde’s hand, which touched the locket once more.
Isolde frowned.
“If she didn’t before, she will now. She’s met with Loniel, of all people. He sent me a riddle written in her hair.” She sighed. “Not all of it is clear to me, but I think we can conclude that this daughter of mine may be more of a threat than she appears.”
“Then we should give chase and hunt her down,” Corann said at once. “If she is a danger to you or to the realm she must be stopped. By any means necessary.”
Isolde did not immediately reply. Corann pressed on.
“You must not let any feelings you have for the girl blind you to what must be done.”
“I know my duty, Corann.” Isolde’s tone was curt. “The girl will be dealt with. And there is no need to chase after her. She is obviously trying to rescue her friend. Let her come to us. When she appears once again, alert me.” Corann nodded. “Inform the orchestra that we will adjourn to the castle presently.” She waved him away and he bowed and left silently, his jaw tight.
Isolde gazed at the blue-clad figure of Ellie, endlessly dancing. She touched the locket once more.
***
They burst onto the main path, Gwen holding her skirts up to run.
“Which way?” Aidan gasped.
“Over here.” Gwen ran in the direction they had been traveling in, toward the castle. She didn’t want to backtrack later when they came to rescue Ellie again. And they would—the fires of anger burned steadily in Gwen’s chest. She could picture them licking the walls of the locked box that was her magical core. Gwen and Aidan ran until Gwen’s side was in stitches, and still they ran, forcing their way off the main path when Gwen spotted a deer trail cutting a thin line through the undergrowth.
They continued more slowly now, as the path was full of stones and errant roots and tree falls. It seemed that no one had gone this way in many years. Gwen kept looking over her shoulder past Aidan to make sure no one followed them. The forest was still and hot. The only noises Gwen heard were their own.
Gwen finally slowed to a walk, and then stopped.
“How far do we go?” Her voice was rough. She had to push it out past her throat, constricted as it was by their flight and her fears. “I don’t want to go too far. I have to go back, before…” She couldn’t finish. She gritted her teeth and swallowed hard, the anger and fear threatening to overwhelm her.
“A little farther.” Aidan’s voice was calm and measured. “I don’t think we’re being followed, so let’s just find somewhere to lie low for the night. Ellie said they were heading back to the castle shortly anyway, so we can try again at first light.”
It seemed easier just to nod and carry on. Every step seemed farther and farther away from Ellie, but Gwen knew Aidan was right.
The sun was low in the sky by the time they stopped in front of the mouth of a cave. It lurked in the side of a hill covered in rubble, scrubby bushes, and trees clinging gamely to the slope. The entrance was taller than Aidan by a head, and twice as wide. The setting sun only highlighted the profound darkness within.
Aidan swallowed, then flicked his wrist to produce his usual blue flames.
“I’ll check it out, shall I?” he said nervously. “Just in case.”
Gwen was reminded of the wolf and lion of their first night. She fervently hoped that they were only the product of Isolde’s protection spell.
Aidan stepped forward and raised his palm high above his head. The little flame cast only a small pool of light. Gwen followed Aidan into the cave, straining her eyes to make out anything inside.
The light flickered on dry stone walls, dusty and rough. Jagged protrusions startled Gwen as their shadows moved with life-like animation in the firelight. In the corner of her eye she caught a flash of metal. She looked more closely.
“Whoa,” Aidan said softly. “Check out the dragon’s hoard.”
The back of the cave was piled high with dozens upon dozens of musical instruments. Violins and flutes and guitars were just a few that Gwen could name. Many were completely unfamiliar. The pile reached chest-height, and it glimmered with warm glints of brass and silver.
Aidan threw down his flame where it rolled and bounced against the nearest wall. He started rummaging through the pile, picking up instruments and examining them.
“There are gorgeous. Look, here’s a lyre, I’m sure of it. And check out this harp. I’ve never seen one like it outside of a museum.” He gently touched the strings of the harp with delicate hands, his face reverential.
“Why are they just lying in a big pile in a cave?” Gwen said. She didn’t really understand Aidan’s fascination with the instruments, but the awe in his voice was catching.
Aidan frowned.
“I don’t know. It’s almost criminal.” He patted the golden wood of the lyre as he placed it carefully on the pile. “Maybe they’re left over from centuries of musicians that have made their way to the Otherworld. This cave could be a dumping ground for things the Breenan don’t want anymore. It doesn’t seem like they care too much about creating music for its own sake.” He sighed and snapped back to their situation. “Well, this cave seems all right.”
“Yeah.” Suddenly Gwen was very tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of being frightened. Her exhaustion told her to give up. The coals of her anger, however, burned steadily deep inside. Tomorrow, she told herself, tomorrow they would finish this once and for all, even if she had to take on her mother herself.
“Hey, what do you think of a fire tonight?” Aidan said. “No one will see our smoke once it’s dark, and the warmth wouldn’t hurt.”
Gwen considered this.
“I guess if we were being chased, they would have caught up by now.” The thought of a campfire pleased her more than she expected. Camping trips with her father always culminated in long evenings by a crackling fire, roasting marshmallows and watching stars twinkle overhead through the smoke. Her heart squeezed as she thought of her father, homesickness grabbing hold. As she pictured his crinkling eyes when he smiled, her magic core lurched deep within her. She gasped and clutched her hands to her chest.
“What’s wrong?” Aidan looked at her, concerned.
The feeling subsided quickly.
“My core felt funny, suddenly.”
“What happened? What were you feeling? What were you thinking about?”
Gwen stared at him.
“My dad. How much I miss him.”
Aidan looked sympathetic.
“Oh Gwen…” He sighed. “We’ll get there.” He looked out of the cave. “We have to.”
Gwen looked at his forlorn face and spontaneously stepped forward to hug him. She wrapped her arms around his middle, resting her head against his chest and neck. He seemed startled at first, then his arms lifted and rested around her shoulders, his face coming to rest tentatively in her hair. She breathed him in, relaxing into his frame. The ache for contact, one she hadn’t realized she’d been living with, abated.
They stood there for a while clinging to each other, both unwilling to let go. Finally Gwen lifted her head and stepped back.
“Let’s get that fire going,” she said. She took his hand and drew him to the mouth of the cave. Aidan’s face was an open book, his expression of vulnerability and longing written clearly. Gwen gave him a small smile which he gradually returned. “Come on, there’s got to be something to burn around here.”
The sun had set by now and the forest was darkening quickly. Gwen let go of Aidan’s hand regretfully but was pleased to note that he let her hand only slide away slowly. There were plenty of fallen branches in the undergrowth surrounding the cave.
“Pick up pinecones too,” Gwen instructed. “We can use them for a starter, in a pinch.”
Once they had a sizeable pile of branches beside the cave, Gwen set to work building the fire. Aidan watched her make a pile of needles and dry leaves and surroun
d it with tiny twigs for kindling.
“I’m glad you know what you’re doing,” he said finally. “I don’t make too many fires, as a rule.”
“See, I’m not entirely useless. My dad and I go camping all the time,” Gwen replied. “I learned early. Dinner didn’t happen until the fire was lit, so I had a major incentive to learn quickly.”
Aidan laughed.
“Fair enough. When dinner depends on it…”
“You should come visit. We could go camping and I could take you to my favorite spots.”
“And see bears?” Aidan said eagerly. “You boasted that you see them all the time. Now you have to deliver.”
Gwen laughed.
“Sure, if we’re unlucky we’ll come across a bear. Or a bear will come across us.”
They smiled at each other, then Aidan’s grin faded.
“Yeah, that would be nice,” he said, looking down at his hands.
Gwen worked in silence, finishing her fire preparations. The presence of the Otherworld forest was like a physical entity beside them, weighing them down. Bran’s ring was warm on her thumb from her exertions.
“Okay, it’s ready,” she said, leaning back.
“Uh, did you bring matches?” Aidan asked, concerned. “Or are you going to do that wood spinning thing with your hands?”
Gwen stared at him in amusement.
“I was kind of hoping you could bring your skills to the table here.”
Aidan’s face was blank for a moment, then he looked sheepish.
“Sorry, I must be half-asleep.” He held out his hand over the kindling, and a moment later bright flames flared up from the little pile.
“I knew I brought you along for a reason,” Gwen joked. She got on her hands and knees and blew air into the fire, fanning the flames.
“It’s good to know I’m more than just eye candy,” Aidan said. Gwen stuck her tongue out at him. He bent down to join her. “Can I help?”
Together they coaxed the little fire until the larger logs caught. They leaned back and contemplated their handiwork.
A voice behind them said, “Am I missing all the fun?”
Chapter 17
Gwen whirled around, her body tensed and ready for action. The grinning face of Bran made her collapse with relief.
“Oh, you gave me a scare.” She sat back in the dirt. “Hi, Bran. It’s good to see you again.”
Aidan remained tense on one knee.
“Are you alone?”
“So suspicious.” Bran chuckled. “Yes, I’m alone. I snuck off from Crevan and followed the ring’s pull.” He nodded at Gwen’s hand. “I said I’d come help get your human back, so here I am.” He settled down comfortably across the fire from them, tossing the sack he carried to the ground beside him. “Been having adventures while I’ve been gone?”
Gwen groaned.
“We tried and failed to get Ellie. And now I think Isolde knows I’m her daughter.”
Bran whistled.
“So, a few, then.”
“Isolde’s going to get rid of Ellie tomorrow,” Aidan said.
“Can we just grab her then?” Gwen asked with sudden hope. “Maybe Isolde will just let her go free. That man we saw at Loniel’s bonfire, the one who interrupted the dancing, maybe he was a human from Isolde’s collection.”
“Mmm, I don’t know. By the time Isolde’s done with them, the humans tend to go a little crazy. More than the usual human befuddlement, I mean.” Bran shook his head. “If you want your human back in one piece, you probably want to get her before she snaps.”
“Ellie told me something similar,” Aidan said quietly. “She said she was just barely holding on, that she didn’t know how much longer she would last. She seemed to have some hope when I told her we were trying to rescue her, but she’s in a pretty bad way. She was very confused. I think it must be the Breenan food and drink affecting her.”
Gwen swallowed and hugged her knees.
“What else did she say?”
“She said she couldn’t leave of her own free will. Early on she tried, and her feet just wouldn’t let her go in the direction of the door without someone dancing her that way. She’s punished if she doesn’t dance. Every night she’s forced to create new choreographies while a panel of Breenan watches her and takes notes, and every day she has to dance in the ballroom. I told her the plan, though, and she thought it could work if someone else took control and danced her toward the door.”
“Yeah, it’s just a compulsion spell,” Bran piped up. “As long as someone else leads her, it should be fine.”
“Okay, good. We’ll try that first thing tomorrow morning.” Gwen stared moodily into the fire.
Bran shuffled closer to Gwen and knelt over her. She looked at him, confused, but he said, “Hold still. I’m reading. Did you know there’s a message in your hair?”
“What does it say?” Aidan asked. “It certainly puzzled the queen.”
“Hold on…” Bran wrinkled his nose in concentration. “Wait—okay, I think I’ve got it. It says, ‘You must give up what is not yours to gain what you’ve never had.’” He sat back on his feet. “Huh. That’s strange.”
“That’s Loniel’s ‘message’ for Isolde? A cryptic warning?” Aidan looked perplexed.
Gwen sighed.
“So cryptic I don’t think even Isolde knew what it meant. Loniel’s lived for so long that maybe he forgets we’re not all so clever.”
“Although it might start making sense once Corann tells her who you are,” Aidan said.
“Oh ho, so Corann saw your mark, did he?” Bran said, interested. “I wonder what Isolde will do.”
“Don’t we all,” Gwen muttered.
“So gloomy! Are all humans like this?” Bran grabbed the sack and reached inside. He pulled out a loaf of bread. “I know what will help.”
“Oh Bran, you’re a lifesaver,” Gwen said as she gratefully took a proffered chunk of the loaf.
“Thanks, mate,” Aidan said, and they tucked in with gusto.
Gwen felt much better after their supper of bread and a sharp hard cheese that Bran pulled out of his sack.
“I’ve got apples too,” Bran said once they had eaten their fill.
“Mmm, yes. Can we roast them?” Gwen shoved another branch into the fire.
Aidan leaped up and scouted for roasting sticks. He returned with three twisty branches.
“Think these are green enough?”
“Let’s try.” Bran took the sticks and touched the ends. A brief scraping noise resulted in three sharp points. He speared an apple onto each and passed two to Gwen and Aidan.
The glorious scent of sweet apple tempted Gwen to taste her apple right out of the fire five minutes later.
“Gah!” She spat out the apple and fanned her mouth. “Hot!”
Bran laughed merrily, but scooted over to Gwen. He laid a hand on her forehead, still laughing.
Immediately the burning on Gwen’s tongue faded and she could taste the remains of her apple, crisp and sweet.
“Thanks, Bran.” She blew on the rest of her apple. She glanced at Aidan who looked at Bran with a strange mixture of frustration and annoyance. He wiped the expression off quickly when he saw Gwen watching and took a bite of his own apple.
After she had eaten the rest of her apple, Gwen leaned back to rest on her hands and contemplated the fire, contentedly full. Bran played with a stick with burning coals at the end, poking it into the dirt.
Aidan spoke into the quiet, his voice drowsy.
“You know, you do look like her, Gwen. Except younger, of course, and prettier.”
Gwen stiffened. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed that he had compared her to Isolde, who she had managed to not think about for the last ten minutes, or to be flattered that he had called her pretty. She settled on staring harder into the fire.
Bran pitched in.
“Yeah, you know, Aidan’s right. Funny no one else has noticed. Although you do have this strange
exotic something going on. It must be your human side.”
Gwen snorted.
“Exotic?” Then she sighed. “I’d rather not look like her. I don’t want anything to do with her. All my life I’ve wanted my mother, but not like this. Not at this cost.”
They fell silent again, until Gwen said, “When I messed up the dance today, I thought I was a goner. But Isolde just scolded us a little and let us go. Why was she so harsh with Ellie’s punishment, and not at all with mine?”
“Because she thought you were Breenan,” Bran said. “She’s not going to hurt you. Who knows who you might be, what tribe might back you? It would be too great a risk, and for what purpose? She can just ask you to leave. But no one would care about a human. She took them and they’re her property now.”
Gwen was aghast. “They’re no one’s property! You can’t have slaves! It’s not right.”
Bran looked at her, considering, as if he’d never given it a thought before.
“It made more sense before I met you, I guess.”
“Yeah, we’re people too.” Gwen shook her head and looked into the fire. Aidan looked from one to the other.
“Anyone up for a little music?” Without waiting for an answer Aidan sprang up and disappeared into the cave. Gwen and Bran sat in silence as rustlings and clanging floated out. Aidan finally emerged clutching a flute and the instrument he had called a lyre.
“I’ve always wanted to try one of these,” he said, flopping down on the ground and putting the lyre in his lap. He plucked experimentally at the strings. Each note rang out soft but clear over the crackling of the fire. Aidan fiddled with the tuning keys then strummed a few times. Each stroke had a different configuration of fingers on the neck and each drifted on the air, mingling and melding and then floating up to disappear with the smoke.
Aidan looked up at Gwen and grinned with childlike joy. Then he bent over the instrument and began to play.
He played trickling arpeggios first, notes drifting and tumbling over each other. Gwen was reminded of water over stones in a river, flowing and staccato all at once. She watched Aidan’s fingers dancing over the strings, deft and sure, pale skin shining against the golden glow of the lyre.
Breenan Series Box Set Page 17