by Laney McMann
"Keep walking." Elethan nudged me in the back. "We are not quite at the gates yet. No cold feet, I hope. We do have an agreement." The sneer on his face was evident in his tone, and I chose not to glance back at him as I slowly walked forward. "The Morrigan will be pleased to see you."
"And you believe she's on the other side of this gate?" I asked him. "That she's still alive?" It seemed everyone believed that, Benny, the Fae Queen Asrai, even my grandmother, but unlike them, who seemed to revere her in a fearful way, Elethan seemed altogether giddy. Disturbingly so.
As many times as I'd heard the Morrigan's taunts in my thoughts, felt her presence in my bones along with the chill bumps and crawling feathers that coursed down my skin, I still couldn't wrap my head around her being alive. To me, she was more like an angry spirit who refused to rest.
Either way, I doubted she would be pleased to see me. I also doubted the King knew much about anything anymore. After the Morrigan's presence had infiltrated my thoughts, my being, weeks ago, and after she'd resurrected me from death in front of the Shadow Realm gates, I'd questioned how much any of us really knew about the strength of her power and her reach.
Besides the fact that the King had given me his word not to go after the Otherworld or my friends and family, the Morrigan was the other reason I'd decided to stay in the Shadows rather than flee and take my chances with Justice. My great, great aunt and I had a deal to settle, alive or dead, flesh or spirit, and one way or another, I would settle it.
25
JUSTICE
"Oh, god."
Those were the only two words Tristan had said for at least the last fifteen minutes. Oh and god. Over and over again. I wanted to hit him. Benny stayed at his side, a good two inches taller than he was, walking through the forest in silence, but Tristan didn't look at her. I stayed quiet, still wondering what in the hell I was going to do with Cara, who skipped along at my side like we were going on a picnic in the woods. Sending her back to the Otherworld was the obvious answer, but she continued to trail me like a stray puppy, and it was hard to find the heart to tell her to leave whenever she beamed up at me with those big green eyes.
"This is so bad," Tristan said, finally breaking into new words and peeking at Benny. "So, so bad," he said. "Just don't talk. Promise me you won't talk. Not one word. Especially if this works and we transport you into Mag Mell without a hitch."
Benny didn't respond.
"Hello? Are you listening?"
"You told me not to talk," she said, her high voice escaping Max's mouth with a giggle, along with a seductive grin that made me cringe.
"Oh, god," Tristan said again. "Yeah, don't talk. Or look at me like that."
She laughed.
The trek through the forest was worse than the one Layla and I had tackled over a week ago trying to locate the doorway into the Shadow Realm. It seemed like forever ago, years, and as much as I might have complained during our endless hike, I'd have gladly retaken that trip a hundred times over than be on a quest to Mag Mell with Benny posing as Max. Soon to be 'dead' Max. I still had no idea how we would pull it off, and more than once I'd considered ditching her and Tristan and going to the Afterworld alone. That left Cara, though, who for some reason I couldn't understand was stuck to me like glue. Me. Not Benny, who she knew pretty well, but me, the oversized gargoyle with a smart mouth.
"You know," Cara said, glancing up at me with her big green eyes for the fiftieth time. "I am the fastest at traversing like Benny said. You can even ask Max ... well, when he wakes up, and he will wake up. I know. He loves Layla too much not to." She gave a curt nod, which I assumed was more of an assurance to herself than to me. "Anyway, I am the fastest. At traversing. Once I took Max to the Underground. All by myself. Did he ever tell you that?"
I shook my head, a pain in my right calf radiating down to the ankle bone, as I ducked underneath a low lying tree limb and skirted a cluster of icy rocks.
"Well, I did," Cara went on, skipping beside me to keep up with my longer strides, her dark blue coat speckled with falling snow. "Straight into the—well that doesn't matter. It's a secret, anyway. Only for family. He is family, Max is. My grandmother always says that. If it wasn't for my uncle, Max would've been raised in the Underworld." The word 'underworld' was whispered like it was a curse word. "I couldn't believe it when my grandmother told me. I thought everyone was lying when they said Max was one of the Fomore." She whispered Fomore. "I don't blame him for not telling me when he came back to the Otherworld looking for Layla. He did look awful that day. Like he'd been beat up or something. I guess he was probably pretty upset when found out he was a, well, one of them. I know I would've been. Upset, I mean."
"Right." I kept walking, ducking under branches bent with heavy snow.
Cara seemed determined to keep my pace rather than hang back a few steps with Tristan and Benny. Tristan kept shaking his head and mumbling under his breath. I didn't blame Cara. I'd barely been able to look at Benny without wanting to throw up, and Tristan had turned green, the same way he'd looked when he'd been so sick. On the verge of dying, Grandma Mac had told me weeks ago. I'd kept my word not to tell Max how bad off he was, so did Benny, but Max knew. I knew he did. Max would have been able to see it in Tristan's eyes the same way the rest of us could. Tristan was one of his angels, after all, how could he not have known?
I guessed he'd chosen to keep it to himself like the rest of us. Glancing at Tristan, I'd never have known he even had a cold, and I wondered what Benny had done, how she'd saved him from the brink of death when no one else had been able to help any of the other angels from the curse the Morrigan placed on them. What Fae magic she possessed.
"So, how much farther is it?" Cara asked, tripping up on a clump of icy roots. I caught her by the arm, righting her. "I thought Benny said you could just traverse into the Afterworld as long as you were transporting the dead? Since you're angels. Why are we still walking?"
I inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep my patience, reminding myself that Cara was ten. Ten year olds were curious. "We're getting as close to the cloud cover as we can to increase our odds of success." I glanced over at her, face red from the cold, hands tucked into her pockets. At least the Afterworld wasn't freezing. I needed to get her out of the elements. Quickly. "Since we're not actually transporting the dead, I figure the closer we are to the top of the mountain, the greater our chances are of pulling this off."
"Oh." Her chin dropped.
"What?"
"So, you don't really know what you're doing then. Do you?"
I grinned a little. "No, I really don't."
She nodded as if making a mental note that that information was okay with her. "So, what's it like, being a gargoyle? Not that you are a gargoyle. You're an angel." She smiled up at me. "But when you pose as a gargoyle, you're all muscly, and you have horns and everything." Her long lashes batted, and she smiled wider, snow falling on her face.
I chuckled, dragging a hand over my still aching head, ignoring the pain growing up my forearm, down my leg. Layla had asked me a similar question. With a smile, I said, "It sucks."
26
MAX
My eyes stayed closed, blackness pressing in except for a constant bright light overhead, which caused a blinding white spot on the inside of my eyelids that blazed like the sun. All the noises had ceased, voices stopped, even the scuffling of feet had quieted, and I breathed in my first full, pure intake of air, allowing it to fill my lungs. The gash on my throat stung, and the toxins from the Fomorian Coat of Arms still seeped through my veins like the plague it was, but my Oghams had already begun slithering again, easing the pain and lessening the maddening confusion.
Making the Ogham Etchings stop healing me had possibly been the hardest thing I'd ever attempted. Forcing them to lie dormant was a power I didn't know I possessed until I'd accomplished it, and although it caused panic for Justice and Tristan, and even Layla's grandmother at first, it was the only route I had, so
I'd taken it.
Falling on my knees to the ground after Layla had released the blade in her hand—one similar to the one my father had used on me to create the Fomore crest over a week before—was the only clear memory I had of how the Battle ended. The pain in my throat had been intense, cutting off my ability to breathe or react. Staring into Layla's eyes, one green, one blue, as I'd clutched my throat, kept me focused for a few seconds. Long enough to hear a voice talking inside my head, assuring me everything was okay, that I was okay. I'd trusted the voice, known it instantly. It was like coming home from a trip after I'd been away far too long.
I wondered why what I'd seen in Layla, her other half, hadn't given me the same sense of peace. It seemed like it should have, but I'd only seen anger in Layla's other half. In the first Teine.
With another breath, my hands opened and closed, my feet flexed, and my Oghams heated and spread like protective armor around my body—a sensation I'd come to relish and understand. I wished I could sleep a while longer and gather more strength, but I'd run out of time.
"You may get up now, Child. Everyone has gone." The squeak of a wooden chair hit my ears, along with a deep sigh, and I opened my eyes. Layla's grandmother sat beside my bed in the Infirmary where I knew she would be, wrinkled hands folded in her lap, white-eyed gaze taking me in. I still swore her blind eyes could see me. "What is your plan? Or were you intending to keep an elderly woman in the dark?"
With a slight grin, and a sharp, ebbing pain still radiating through my neck and shoulders, I pushed to sit, swinging my legs off the bed. "I'm going after the Morrigan. But I'm sure you've figured that out already."
"Indeed." She inclined her head, her silver hair in a twist. "How do you plan to do that? You are injured, although I believe the severed parts of your soul have reunited, just as Justice explained he believed Teine's have. Do you feel no different? Well enough to get up and leave the Otherworld, eluding your friends all the while?" Her forehead creased. "I understand you wish to do what is right, MacKenzie, you always have, but there are times when we need to ask for help. This may be one of those times."
"My Lady ... thank you for covering for me with Justice and Tristan when you knew I wasn't dying. I don't want to scare them, but this is something I need to do on my own. Justice will go to Layla. He's hard-wired to locate her, and I know Elethan won't hurt her, not if he believes I'm dead. He needs her."
"Go on." She waved a hand in the air.
"Elethan needs one of us to open the Afterworld gates, an Ancient. He told me that. He'll use Layla, or he'll try to, if she agrees to help him. I'm planning to beat him there. I'm the only one who knows what the Morrigan wants, the only one who knows what she's really after. It isn't Layla she wants, and she won't be happy if the King shows up with her." I flexed my hands again, warmth penetrating my fingertips. The Arwen twisted on my inner wrist, the Air Ogham, coiling back and forth on itself, the green tendrils traveling up my forearm, easing my exhaustion.
"If the Morrigan is telling me the truth," I went on, "and she really is keeping Layla alive, she'll have no reason to continue to do so if I'm not with the King. Teine is who the Morrigan needs. Not Layla. They just share the same body, where the split souls come together."
The Queen nodded.
"From what I understand, Teine can live while Layla can still die. The person we know, Layla, can still be killed. She'll never come back or be reborn, if that happens."
"The Accursed Arts are, have always been, unpredictable when wielded through the wrong hands." The Queen drew in a deep breath. "Tell me what the Morrigan told you she wants."
"Me." I stared at her. "She wants me."
Her eyes narrowed. "For?"
"She wants to rule all the Realms, control everyone, return to the Ancient ways, but she can't do that without me because—"
"She has no right." The Queen cut me off, pushing to her feet. "Of course. What are her conditions for you ruling at her side?"
"She'll keep Layla alive. The Otherworld will be safe from further threats."
"I see." She folded her hands together and walked to the window.
"Doesn't leave me a lot of a choice if she'd be wielding that kind of control."
"No." She turned around.
"I have a plan. I'm not sure if it will work, but it's all I have to go on."
"I suppose you are keeping this plan to yourself?"
"For now, My Lady." I bowed my head. "I apologize."
"No need." She waved her hand. "So, the gash on your throat ... do you feel the true MacCoinnich's presence?"
"Yes." I flexed my hands, rolled my neck, felt my Oghams moving again, soothing my aches. "It was his voice that kept me calm, told me everything would be okay after I was cut. I thought I was dying. I think I was dying."
"By my granddaughter's hand." Her brows lifted. "Justice said she did this to you. Her own hand." She remained calm.
"Her hand, yes, but not her will." I pushed to stand up, leaning against the edge of the bed. "Teine has a will of her own that overrides Layla's at times. She's spoken to me in my thoughts, the same way Layla and I can communicate. During the Battle she spoke in my thoughts more than once. She wanted me dead—or she wanted her MacCoinnich back, as she told me."
Her brow creased, a concerned expression deepening the lines on her face. "Go on."
"She hates me, basically. Teine does. She said I wasn't worthy to wear MacCoinnich's face. The Morrigan told me the same thing. I'm a weaker version of the real thing, I guess." I cracked a smile. "I wonder how they'll feel when they see me now—if they'll recognize his presence.
"The answer to your question is yes. Yes, they will. How they will react you will soon find out. Favorably, I hope."
With a nod, I said, "Teine threw the blade, or controlled it, not Layla—just so you know. She had to have."
"I hope that is true. What else, Child? Tell me about your ability to communicate. Has it changed? Do you hear MacCoinnich and Teine communicating in your thoughts?"
"Not yet, but like me and Layla, he and Teine are connected."
"Naturally." She motioned for me to continue.
"Right, well, I haven't heard them speak to each other, but I know where Teine is, or MacCoinnich knows where she is."
Her white eyes widened.
"Layla and I, we hear each other's thoughts—Teine and MacCoinnich can do that, too, I think, but their communication seems to go way beyond that."
"In what way?"
"I, or he, can see her. After I fell by the blade, and everything went black, I could still see Layla. Standing in front of me, staring, but it was inside of my head, not through my own eyes. I saw her through his eyes. I can't explain it. It was weird."
Her brows hit her hairline. "See her?"
"Yes. MacCoinnich, or me now, can see her surroundings, the people she's with. I saw her run the gauntlet, even though I wasn't conscious to stop her. I watched her through my mind's eye, if that makes any sense at all."
The Queen inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Where is she now? Teine."
"Scaling the side of a mountain on her way toward the clouds."
"The entrance into the Ancient city." The elderly Queen sat back down, resting her head in her hands. "The gateway through the clouds ... No one knows if it truly exists."
"It exists," I said. "They've just reached the gate to Mag Mell. I have to go, before they get through. I'm not sure what the Morrigan will do when she sees Layla with Elethan instead of me."
"You will never make it on time," she said in a rush. "Even if you traverse, you cannot simply show up as a part of King Elethan's caravan. And what will you do once you are there? A one man army against the might of the Fomore is not likely to win."
I pushed away from the edge of the bed, testing my strength, assuring my legs were steady underneath my weight. "I don't plan to enter through the gate or allow the King, or even Layla, to see me. At least not yet. Justice and Tristan will be there, I hope, so I
won't be alone. As far as getting in, I go by invitation." Shoving my hands in my pockets, I said, "The Morrigan is expecting me. Elethan may believe Layla killed me with the blade she threw, I don't know, but the Morrigan won't. She'll know better." I grabbed my soiled cloak from beside the Infirmary door and threw it on, tugging the hood up. I reached for my sword, thankful to see I hadn't lost it. "Thank you for everything. I can't say it enough. You've always believed in me."
She ambled forward and patted my cheek with her cool, spotted hand. "And I always will, Child. Promise me you will return in one piece with my granddaughter at your side."
"I will do my best, My Lady. I promise you that."
27
JUSTICE
I glanced away from the wound on my calf, the pus oozing down my leg and collecting in my sock, and rewrapped it with the gauze I'd found in Max's Infirmary room in the Otherworld. The small cuts lining my right arm weren't as easy to hide, so I kept the extra cloak I'd taken from his closet in the Fomore castle on, and prayed we found Layla and destroyed the Morrigan before I turned into Sam, or worse—so much worse—Ryan.
The thought of trying to explain to Tristan, Max, and Layla that I was next in line to lead the Fallen after Sam's death wasn't something I'd planned on needing to do. Sam had always been such an arrogant pain in the ass—I figured he'd outlive us all.
Our small caravan trudged on after our quick stop, the treetops starting to thin overhead, blue sky and clouds shedding the first true light on the forest floor. Cara had fallen back, keeping time with Tristan and Benny in silence. I glanced over my shoulder at them. The thought of having to hand my sword to Tristan, asking him to kill me if I turned into a mindless lunatic like Ryan had become, wasn't high on my list. I would, though, if it came to that. I would before it came to that.
I also had to tell Cara it was time for her to go back to the Otherworld. Glancing at her ruby red cheeks, the thought broke my heart a little. She wanted to help. I couldn't blame her. The Otherworld, her home, not to mention her mother and her people were in danger. I hoped I could help stop it.