Phoenix (Tuatha De Danann Book 1)

by Vanessa Skye

  Nara stifles a sob then turns to embrace him, crying softly into his chest.

  I hate admitting it, but it looks more like Aiden’s theory of the king ordering fae to carry out the raids is true. I sigh. But what about the bullet casing? Where does that fit in?

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” Rowan whispers.

  “Sorry…what?” I ask, rubbing my temples.

  “I wish to repay you in any way I can. We all do.”

  Everyone within earshot nods eagerly.

  “I was a handmaiden for the forest fae. I can be your handmaiden now,” Rowan says.

  “That is a lovey offer, but I have no means to pay y—”

  “I do not require payment. To serve you is enough.”

  “Actually,” I waggle a finger, grinning as inspiration strikes, “there is something you can do for me. Gather about fifteen fae you trust implicitly and meet me in my room. As quickly as you can.”

  She nods, and I make my way out of the cavern and toward the luxurious room I’ve never used. It’s become a storage room, of sorts, for our meager supplies.

  Ten minutes later, a terrified group slowly shuffles into the room.

  “Thank you for coming. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. Why starve when we can buy everything we need?” I wave toward the furniture made of gold as well as the gemstones and precious metals studding the rock walls. “Find some tools, and let’s start eating well, shall we?”

  Several men hurry out.

  “Rowan, have the women collect packs and any decent clothing. You are going shopping.”

  She nods, beaming from ear to ear.

  Coins fashioned from precious metals are not the only means of purchasing necessities on Tír na nÓg. Many of the markets I have been to also accept lumps of gold, silver, and precious and semi-precious stones. Provided Talentless fae dress appropriately, there is no reason they can’t walk among the other fae purchasing food and goods. As far as I’m aware, only Aiden and I can see magic. Not even Nuadha has that ability.

  The men return with makeshift metal tools, and I instruct them to extract gemstones and shear lumps of gold.

  Rowan also returns, her arms filled with the best clothing she could find.

  “Get changed, all of you.” I gather the dresses from my discarded pack, add them to the pile, and pull off my leather tunic. It’s worn, but it’s in better shape than anything anyone else is wearing. “Style your hair and clean up as best you can. Remember, you are fae.”

  Understanding dawning her face, Rowan eagerly picks up a dress and the others follow suit.

  Soon, a meager pile of gemstones and gold rests before me. Even in human terms, it’s a small fortune.

  I divide the pile between them. “Form groups of no more than three and take two empty packs each. Visit the largest communities you can find nearby. Purchase warm clothing, blankets, and basic foods, as much as you can carry. Once we have enough for everyone, we will work on obtaining weapons.”

  Any fae buying large amounts of weaponry is questioned because of the recent bans on arming the Talentless, so we will have to be careful once we reach that phase.

  “Remember, they cannot tell you are Talentless. There are fae refugees roaming the country, so you will not be out of place. Make sure you are armed, but do not use your weapons. As far as they know, you are traveling fae simply purchasing provisions, like any other and that is your story should anyone ask. Buy as much as you can carry and take care you are not followed back here.” I sigh. “You are taking a risk doing this. If you don’t want to participate, I understand.”

  None refuse, and I can see hope in their eyes for the first time in months.

  “If this goes well, we’ll start a regular rotation.”

  I ensure everyone is comfortable with their backstories and the tasks at hand before sending them on their way. If they travel all night, they will reach fae markets by morning.

  Pleased, I hurry to tell Aiden the new plan and find him in his room, eating.

  “Amazing, Alys!” he says once I relay my idea. “I can’t believe no one thought of it before now.”

  “I know. This will work! At least, everyone will be fed and maybe even properly armed.”

  He beams and cuts another hunk of thick meat.

  I wonder where he got it. No one else here has eaten meat in weeks.

  “You have taken to your place here better than I ever could have anticipated.” Pointing his fork at me, he grins and chews another bite. “These people have hope because of you.”

  “Have you heard from Father?”

  He nods. “I sent word you are once again with us, and he sends his love and fealty. He will be with us as soon as he can.”

  ***

  The next day, I work on training my army as I anxiously await the return of my secret shoppers.

  As we’re running drills, the wind whistles through the gorge like a wind tunnel, blowing my hair into my face, and I bat it away in frustration.

  Standing a few yards away Mandrake’s dreadlocked mane brushes against his knees as he tosses his head and nickers.

  I swear, the beast spends most of his time laughing at me!

  By nightfall, I am pacing the main cave and checking various entrances every few seconds as if I can will my volunteers to appear out of thin air. What if they were discovered? Captured? Killed? Followed? Nuadha’s army could be on the way here right—

  “Rowan!”

  She enters, struggling with two bulging packs.

  I hurry over to help.

  As we walk to my room, I see some of the others returning similarly weighted down.

  I ration out grains, dried meats, and root vegetables to the hungry and inventory the remainder while the rest of the undercover fae arrive, adding to the stores.

  “Awesome! Did you have any trouble?”

  They all shake their heads.

  I look at the cache of food and blankets and grin. “We need more volunteers.”

  Everyone except Rowan hurries off to find willing fae as well as food and rest for the night.

  “You are injured?” she asks, stretching out her hand to me.

  I look at my simple cotton shift and see a few dried spots of blood. “It is nothing. Merely a hard day’s training.”

  “You have no armor, yet you willingly lead us into battle.”

  “None of us has armor, except Aiden,” I say with a shrug.

  “You will have armor. As your handmaiden, I will make it so.”

  Her tone leaves no doubt or room for question, and I have little time to argue as fresh volunteers arrive.

  I instruct them as I did the group before. After a few more outings, we may even be able to start buying weapons, as well as food. It may not do much good, but I can’t help, or hide, my smile at the thought.

  I eat the bowl of stew Rowan pushes into my hands gratefully before sinking into sleep, exhausted by the worries of the day.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  By the end of the week, we have enough food to feed everyone three times a day and then some in storage. The buying trips will have to continue for a while, but Rowan bought seeds on her last outing, and by the end of the coming summer, we’ll be on the road to being self-sustaining.

  Nuadha can keep his stupid magic cauldron.

  It is staggering how much wealth I have held in my hands during all this, taken from my room alone. Given how many gems must lie within the caves around us, we could be sitting on billions in human terms.

  Sometimes, I think about what I might be doing if I’d stayed in Chicago and never been enlightened about my parentage. Maybe I’d be working with Mom or attending some courses at the local community college. However, as hard as life been sometimes, and as much as I’ve had to grow up since I fled Earth with Baird, I wouldn’t change any of it. I’m happy teaching the voiceless to speak up and fight and ensuring they have everything they need to sustain themselves.

  Somehow, in helping them
, I’ve also healed myself.

  My traitorous thoughts stray to Nuadha before I can shut them down.

  Well, I wouldn’t change most of it, anyway.

  His rejection still hurts. Talentless meet and fall in love almost daily, and it’s hard to watch. It seems there’s nothing like a war to make everyone fertile, either. Pregnant fae are popping up everywhere.

  I purse my lips and harden my heart, brushing away my tears. Nuadha was right about one thing—love makes you weak. I will never be weak again.

  I brief a contingent of my most trusted volunteers on how and what to buy. Given the impending war, anyone purchasing a significant amount of weapons will sound alarms. A few upgrades here and there, however, should go unnoticed, and by this point, many Talentless have built relationships with local merchants and won’t arouse suspicion buying swords, bows, and arrows.

  The only flies in the ointment are Aiden—I barely see him lately, and when I do seek his council, he’s often nowhere to be found—and the constant unyielding presence of Rowan, who has transformed from that soft-spoken, meek servant I met at Rhiannon’s to my iron-willed personal assistant hell bent on organizing my entire life.

  Her latest task has been assessing me with the fae equivalent of a measuring tape and laying leather on exposed parts of my body in the brief moments I take to eat and take care of my personal needs.

  “What are you doing?” I hold up a hand and shake my head in irritation as she approaches again with thick brown leather in her hands.

  “Your armor! You need something to protect you when you fight.” The stubborn set of her mouth brooks no argument.

  I groan and roll my eyes. “Magic shield, remember?” I have been working my shield into our training routine, stretching its limits and its effectiveness against arrows and swords. So far, I have managed to protect hundreds of fae at a time. “That reminds me, I must ask Aiden to test it with his magic,” I murmur.

  “You cannot keep the shield up all the time and still fight. Besides, it tires you,” she says. “I may not have magic, but I do have skills, so let me assist you!”

  I sigh, obediently holding my arms straight out. “Fine.”

  She measures a few pieces and smiles. “It is nearly complete. I have ensured it is tough while also allowing you to move freely. I think you’ll be pleased. No one has ever made anything quite like it before. It is unique armor befitting a special fae. And it is certainly preferable to fighting in a cotton shift or a silk dress,” she says with an arch of an eyebrow.

  “Thank you,” I mutter, grudgingly.

  “Now to tie back your hair,” she says as she lifts the heavy red mass. “I notice it gets in your way…”

  “It does. Actually, I may have an idea.” I quickly explain what I want.

  “Meet me at my fire in a few moments,” she says before hurrying off.

  Even with all I have to attend to, I do as she says since it is pointless to argue.

  “Sit,” Rowan says, pointing at the ground.

  I do and the group of women Rowan assembled at her fire pit quickly surrounded me, each grabbing a section of hair and a carved shell comb. I wince as they take small locks and backcomb them, starting at the scalp and working all the way to the base. Once complete, they rub wax into it and then get to work on a new section.

  A few hours later, my wild red curls are tamed into long dreadlocks that reach all the way down to my ass, each about the thickness of my little finger.

  I touch my head in fascination as Rowan hands me a mirror. “Wow.” Without all the curls, I look older, sleeker, and my cheekbones are more pronounced. The dreads sit off my face, and I pull them into a ponytail, pleased with how easy it’s going to be to keep my hair out of my way now. “Thank you!”

  Rowan points and gestures. “We need privacy for your fitting.”

  The ladies converge again holding blankets around me, fashioning a makeshift change room, as Rowan and Nara strip me of my cotton tunic and leather pants before swiftly replacing them. The pants are still leather, but more form fitting, with thick sections of hard hide on the thighs and shins but thinner around the knees and hips, so I can move freely.

  Next, Rowan slips a green silk tunic with an open neck over my head and laces a thick leather corset around my waist firmly. “This will keep you…in place,” she says, waving toward my chest and blushing.

  She’s right. The breasts I have developed since being on Tír na nÓg are now secure, supported better than any bra I could have chosen back on Earth. I stare at the pushed-up, rounded cleavage perfectly displayed thanks to the green of the tunic and the tight corset. “Wow.” I mutter again. “How did you know I was…having difficultly with this?”

  “It is my job to know. I could see they were impeding your training.”

  I never dreamed I might be the curviest girl in a room, but now, it is often the case. While my breasts are nowhere near the size of my mother’s, they are causing problems—what with all the bouncing—as well as attracting many leers. Still, I am deliriously excited to have them at all.

  Rowan and Nara strap on the last of the armor—hard leather pads around my lower and upper arms, and a shiny, fitted silver breastplate carved with a beautiful design hinting at water and fire.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whisper, touching the artwork.

  “It is your crest,” Rowan says with a nod, “and will forever mark you as our queen. We are sewing flags with the same crest.”

  “It’s amazing,” I say with tears in my eyes. “Thank you.”

  “Now you look like the warrior you are,” Rowan says with satisfaction.

  The ladies drop the blankets, and gasps abound as those who are working stop and stare. The women look with wide eyes at this latest fashion statement, and the men gawk at my newly displayed waist and breasts.

  I study the rest of the armor. The leather has been stamped or carved somehow into intricate swirling flowers and lush leaves. Each leaf blends into another leaf or petal, so every time you look at the design, something new appears. The brown and black leather is perfectly offset by the green of the tunic strategically peeking through and the gleaming silver of the breastplate. It is functional, protective, and feminine, all in one.

  I test it out with a few fighting stances then strap my sword around my newly cinched waist and pull on my heavy boots. The new armor moves easily and is surprisingly comfortable, and the tunic stops it from sticking or rubbing.

  “Now for your hair,” Rowan says, handing me what look like four long sticks made of carved wood, tapered to a point at one end, and down the length, inlaid with gold in a pattern similar to my armor. At the thick ends are four emeralds hanging from short silver chains and sparkling in the firelight.

  “These are beautiful! How did you…”

  Rowan shrugs. “We are not of magic, but between us, there is no skill unaccounted for. You just need to know who to ask.”

  I touch the breastplate thoughtfully. “You’ve just given me an amazing idea! Take the metal workers to the surrounding caves and see if there’s any suitable metal for swords and shields.”

  “Now you are thinking like a queen,” Rowan says with an approving nod. “Let me finish your hair first.” She wraps my dreadlocks into a knot atop my head, securing it with the four sticks, then steps back, eyeing all their hard work come to life, and grins as she shouts her formal introduction to the crowd. “The queen of the Talentless!”

  One by one, every man, woman, and child drops to his or her knees.

  As I look out at them, in my new battle gear and badass hair, my magic pulsing through my body, determination swells within me. I may have already found my magic, but here, now, with these people, I find my power.

  I launch a fireball into the tall cavern ceiling where it hovers, reflecting off gems and crystals buried in the old stone, and flooding the space in otherworldly light.

  Over oohs and ahhs, I finally find my voice—our voice, the voice of all Talentless. “I swear to
you, as of this moment, no one will use you, persecute you, or harm you, so long as I draw breath. There is a place for you in this world, and I will give it to you, even if I have to carve it out of stone with my own hands. This is my vow!”

  PART II

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  In only two months, Talentless fae transform from starving, subservient refugees without hope to a well-fed, warm, productive unit forging arms, sewing clothes, growing food, and becoming self-sufficient.

  Even Aiden notices how far they have come.

  “You are gifted indeed, sister,” he says on one of his rare visits to the battleground. “This army may actually stand a chance.”

  “Yes, well, I still hope for a peaceful solution.”

  He chuckles. “Ever the optimist. If you send more missives to the fae king, you will be sacrificing innocent lives.”

  I shake my head. “Nope, no more letters. I intend to go to Nuadha and make him see sense.”

  Aiden’s eyes widen. “No! He will kill you on sight.”

  “I can defend myself from any attack, you know. Even his.”

  “Yo—”

  A male fae approaches and bows. “Forgive me, Sires. Nara has requested the queen as she births her faeling.”

  “Nara’s in labor?” I ask.

  The man nods.

  “Go, sister. Add midwifery to your many talents. I will take over here,” Aiden says with a smile. “We will continue this conversation later.”

  I jump on Mandrake’s back and ride back to the caves, feeling eyes on me as I pass. My armor may protect me from sword blows and arrows, but it does nothing for the hungry stares of men. A few have even worked up the courage to approach during the last few weeks, their hearts on their sleeves, but I turned down every one. After Nuadha, I have no wish to love again. I guess he and I have that in common if nothing else.