by Vanessa Skye
As my power grows, his fades so quickly that in moments there are only a few tendrils of it left.
He tries to form a fireball, but the small flame flickers out quickly. He attempts to form a shield with the same result.
I draw his power away, filament by filament, until there is nothing left.
“No!” Bres forms a shield around his son.
But it is too late.
My handsome brother’s black hair turns a streaky gray then white an instant later. His green eyes cloud then film over with cataracts, and his firm skin wrinkles, cracks, and peels away from his muscles like old paint. He shrieks, the sound pure pain and fear, his robust voice ages like the rest of him, growing weaker and weaker, until he falls to the ground, silent. A second later and there is nothing left but a pile of bleached white bones.
I sob and cover my mouth, shaking. I drop Nuadha’s sword and slide off Mandrake’s back.
“Alys…” Nuadha shouts, running toward me. He picks me up in his arms, crushing me to his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, Alys, I’m sorry…”
“Kill them all!” Bres shouts.
Both armies, struck dumb by everything they’ve witnessed, are taken by surprise when an avalanche of humans—there must be more than five thousand of them in full body armor—flow out of the tunnels, block the mouth of the valley behind the Talentless fae, and raise their firearms.
As they approach, I see automatic weapons, grenades, surface-to-air missiles, and even machine guns. I know in my heart every fae will be slaughtered. They are no match for the weaponry, even with magic.
Talentless across the field look to me, terror and desperation on every one of their beloved, familiar faces. The death of their general was the final straw for an army manipulated into fighting in the first place.
I grab Nuadha’s tunic and shake in an effort to knock some sense loose. “Do not give your enemy what he wants. Allow the Talentless fae to return to you and the others. Give them back their homes and their lives. They will happily fight for you!”
Nuadha gazes at the humans as they wait for the order to fire then at the Talentless, many now weaponless and cowering behind any cover they can find. “Centuries ago, the fae and their Talentless brethren worked together, side by side, for the betterment of Tír na nÓg. So it can be again!” He nods once and motions for the fae lines to part and allow Talentless fae through.
“Return to your loved ones,” I yell. “Tír na nÓg is once again united!”
Talentless fae race away from Bres and toward Nuadha, only to disappear into the ranks of the fae army seamlessly, comrades once more. Even with their swelled numbers, however, the fae are still outnumbered two to one.
I hand Nuadha’s sword to him then kneel at his feet. “The battle has only just begun. Allow me to help you win it. If you wish to end my life after it’s all over, I will not stop you.” I bow my head.
“You tried to warn me, and I let pride and a broken heart stop me from listening. Rise, Alys. The battle is nigh,” Nuadha says, holding out his hand.
I take it and pull myself to my feet.
He squeezes my hand, and his blue eyes meet mine with sincerity for the first time since I returned.
“Ready!” Bres screams.
I hear the click of thousands of weapons chambering that first round.
“Earth fae!” Nuadha bellows.
The war fae at the front of Nuadha’s lines part and a wave of dreadlocked men and women appear. They raise their arms in unison using their combined power on the grassy earth in front of the human lines.
A deep rumble builds and shudders before the ground begins to shake violently. Those mercenaries who aren’t knocked off their feet fall backward.
An almighty crack rolls through the valley and a massive gorge splits open between the fae and humans. It immediately fills with rushing black water of the lough.
The humans, unable to engage the fae in close quarters, once again raise their weapons and take aim at Nuadha’s army.
“Alys!”
My name on Nuadha’s lips is all I need to summon every ounce of power I have and direct an intense wave of heat at the men.
Yelps of pain ring out across the fresh gorge. The humans drop their weapons and rip off their scalding body armor before they are severely burned.
Bres cackles and the wicked sound bounces off the sheer cliffs. “You think you are a match for me, daughter? I made you!”
Using Danu’s stolen magic, he lifts thousands of gallons of water from the lough and forms a huge bubble hovering over the humans. With a flick of his hand, he releases a light rain over his army, cooling their weapons and armor, and within seconds, they are taking aim once more.
“He must have the Bailitheoir. That’s the only way for him to do such magic,” Nuadha whispers. “I need to acquire it if we are to defeat him.”
I nod and watch Bres commanding his mercenaries to reform their lines. “What does it look like?” I mutter.
“It is a small golden cup. Not hard to conceal.”
I focus on Bres as Nuadha turns to his forces, but I see nothing like he described.
“Water fae!”
The earth fae fall back, replaced by scaled water fae as they, too, summon the lough’s water and command it, not as rain, but as a towering tsunami churning with power.
The mammoth upsurge breaks over the humans, sweeping them off their feet and washing them out of the valley.
As the water subsides, I see many humans don’t get up.
“Air fae!”
The blast of violent wind fills the air as feathered fae rise, arrows at the ready, then soar over the humans and release several waves of arrows with each pass.
Human screams carry on the gusts as the air fae return to us.
The human lines slowly reform once more, and I call forth my fire to create an enormous wall of flame. The superheated blue and white inferno travels across the gorge, forcing the humans beyond the mouth of the valley where their guns will be far less accurate. While I could burn every one of them alive, I don’t. I am not my father.
But the magic is still having an effect on them, and I see several humans break ranks and flee.
“Deserters will perish!” Bres screams.
Despite the threat, the majority that run don’t even break stride, choosing instead to take their chances.
“You are not the only one who can use fire, girl!” Bres lets out a shrill whistle. The sound is piercing and unnatural, causing fae and humans alike to wince and cover their ears.
“No!” Nuadha gasps, looking toward the sky.
For a few seconds, there is nothing but silence, and then a strange rhythm beats in the far distance…like massive sails snapping on high seas.
A thunderous roar resonates beyond the mountains behind us, and before the reverberation dies completely, a great shadow passes overhead, blocking out the sun as effectively as an eclipse.
As the shadow draws nearer, it takes the shape of a massive dragon with shining black scales, glowing red eyes with vertical pupils, and an endless snake-like neck covered in wicked spikes. Hovering above us like a harbinger of doom, it screeches a sound so malicious multiple human and fae to fall to the grass and cower in fear.
Scores of earth fae vanish into the ground. Some water fae jump in the lough and disappear into Lir’s domain, but for the rest of us, hiding is fruitless. We are trapped.
Dumbfounded, I watch as the dragon stretches its wicked talons out toward the fae eagerly, as if it can’t wait to rip us to shreds.
Bres points at us. “Destroy them!”
“Take cover!” Nuadha screams, diving to the ground.
But there is no cover.
As the beast fills its lungs with oxygen, and fae around me fall, covering their heads as best they can with arms and shields, I know they are simply waiting to be burned alive. The valley holds us as effectively as a cage. We have nowhere to go to escape the coming inferno.
&n
bsp; The dragon’s chest glows red with heat, its lungs almost at full capacity.
I scream in rage at my father and stretch my power not only around me but also around the entire fae army and their horses, covering well over two thousand with my shimmering shield.
Silent heartbeats later, the flames engulf us.
The terrible heat sears my fragile shield, and I feel the pain as if the flames are licking my sensitive skin. I cry out in agony and collapse.
“Alys,” Nuadha shouts.
The dragon inundates us with its inferno, and I shriek as the pain worsens. The only thing keeping me from passing out is the knowledge that my shield drops the moment I lose consciousness.
They will die screaming, just as I am.
The fire is like nothing I have felt before. More than a simple flame—there is a strange power within it, something malevolent and primeval. Its evil predates this, or any other world, it’s power barely contained. I can feel the beast’s rage, its utter hatred for its captivity and the ancient pact that keeps it bound to Bres. I try to touch the beast with my mind, but pull back in revulsion; its thoughts are dark and twisted. The dragon kills because it wants to.
I know my defense will not last long.
Evil and ancient…
A memory stirs.
Clenching my teeth and fists and squeezing my eyes shut, I throw all my will into the shield as the dragon expends the last of its breath.
The inferno stops temporarily.
My shield blinks out, and I launch a fireball.
It does nothing but flame out harmlessly on the dragon’s tough scales. The creature barely notices as it slowly fills its lungs once more with a heaving gasp.
Bres laughs gleefully.
I turn and watch as he strokes a leather pouch attached to his sword belt.
The Bailitheoir.
I toss my shield back up just as the new flames reach us and scream. The heat feels as though it’s baking me from the inside.
A hand touches mine I flinch before I open my eyes to see Nuadha reaching for me.
“Take my power! Take your shield from me.!”
I shake my head. “You’ll die! You saw what happened to Aiden…”
“My death is inevitable, Alys, and necessary to save my people. I do it gladly. If you do not kill me, the fae will be consumed either by fire or by Bres. Take me, now!”
“The Bailitheoir.” I gasp as the agony claws through me. “I think I know where it is. When the time comes…I will take it.”
I feel for the threads surrounding him—so much power—and direct it into my shield, holding it firm as the beast blows the last of yet another fiery breath.
As the heat descends, I take even more of Nuadha’s life force. His blond hair grays before my eyes and wrinkles form on his stunning face. “No!” Every bone in my body wants to save him—this brutal, complicated fae I love—and I cannot draw out every piece of his power and watch him die as I did my brother. Not even to save all the fae on Tír na nÓg.
But—
“Only water can extinguish fire…”
“Lir, I need you!”
His booming reply echoes across the water. “So be it, my queen.”
I hear Bres shout defiantly, and the terrible flames stop as his hold over the beast is momentarily shattered.
I stand on shaky legs, my shield shimmering in place, and watch as a waterspout at least a mile high and half as much across rises out of the black lough. Its surface twists so rapidly and furiously it looks like it can consume ageless mountains within its shuddering depths.
The nearby fae scatter as it heaves and surges slowly toward the ancient beast.
The dragon roars and readies to launch itself away from its certain death.
“No!” Bres bellows. “I command you, beast dóiteáin, you will do my bidding. Destroy them!” He points a gnarled finger at Nuadha and me.
The evil serpent looks conflicted as it struggles with the need to obey its master and the desire to flee. Roaring in frustration, it shakes its head violently from side to side.
His scaled body shining in the sun, Lir steps out of the lough with a hand raised toward the heavens. Countless watery gallons spin faster under his indomitable will.
The dragon breaks the link with Bres—who screams and clutches his head—and springs into the air.
But it is too late.
Moving faster than I ever thought possible, the waterspout snatches the beast from the sky in a flurry of water, scales, and wings, and consumes the shrieking beast, dragging it to the bottom of the lough.
Within seconds, the water’s surface calms once more.
Bres roars and clenches his fists.
As he reaches for the pouch, I lower my shield, stretch out my power, and wrench the Bailitheoir from his grasp. “This power does not belong to you.”
The fae and remaining humans on the battleground scramble to their feet.
Nuadha jumps up, and with his flaming sword raised, he sprints past his forces toward the deep gouge in the now-wet earth.
He springs off the edge of the gorge, flying over it as if he has wings before landing in front of Bres. Raising his mighty sword he aims to sever Bres’s head from his shoulders before his enemy has a chance to raise his sword or plead for mercy.
But as the flaming sword arcs down, Bres simply blinks out of existence. His voice crackles and fades as completely as him as his last words echo across the battlefield. “Until we meet again, Silver Arm…”
“No!” Nuadha lowers his sword and faces his troops. “Earth fae!”
The earth fae emerge from hiding and heal the gorge, so the earth is smooth and whole once more, allowing us an escape.
Bres is gone, his mercenaries now leaderless.
Nuadha’s forces rush forward with their swords raised and bows drawn and quickly surround the humans.
Shocked at all they have witnessed, the men drop their weapons and raise their hands over their heads.
King Lir stalks forward. “Finish your business here, my queen, and then unite with me in the depths as my wife.”
“She will never be your queen, Lir!” Nuadha’s sword is lowered, but he does not sheath it.
“Wrong again, land walker king,” Lir replies with an ugly sneer on his rubbery lips. “Alys and I have an agreement. Don’t we, my beloved?” He runs a finger over my metal breastplate, and I shudder.
The confusion on Nuadha’s face is almost painful as he looks at me. “What is he talking about?”
“I’m...I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I couldn’t kill you. I couldn’t watch the life drain from your body…”
“You agreed to become his wife?” Nuadha asks as he takes a half step forward.
I step away. If he touches me…
“She knew what she was doing. My water is the only authority that could quench Tír na nÓg of wicked fire.” Lir chuckles. “You know this well, seeing you once harnessed it to wrest back your throne, did you not?” Lir sneers at him, flicking a glance at Nuadha’s arm. “You cannot save her now. Our bargain is binding.”
“You cannot.” Nuadha wipes a tear from my cheek.
“I had to.” I shake my head. “I couldn’t kill you.”
“You have slain me nevertheless.” His eyes fade, the piercing color dying as the words leave his lips, and his expression is bleak.
Smothering the sound with my hand, I sob.
“And you! You should have rid our world of both Bres and the dragon for your own preservation, not to trick a child into marrying you!” Nuadha yells at Lir.
Lir smiles. “We take our advantages where we can, Nuadha. You know that better than any of us. This faeling’s power is in its infancy. As she ascends, so shall I! Watch for the day the water dwellers rise up and take control of this land, led by the power I now yolk.” He turns his pitiless gaze on me. “I command you to finish it, wife.”
We all look at the humans. They cannot be allowed to remain on Tír na nÓg, but there is only
one way to send them back.
“Mother,” I whisper.
All the love I feel for a mother I just met flows through my heart. I follow the love, just as she instructed, and use it to bring her to me along with the large rip in the veil surrounding her, as bound to her life as I am.
I throw my shield around the fae to protect them from the sucking vortex, but leave Lir unprotected.
He laughs. “I have no need of your shield, wife. My power equals that of your doomed goddess.”
“Danu!” Nuadha mutters and collapses to his knees before my mother. “Forgive me.”
She smiles a small smile. “There is nothing to forgive, beloved Nuadha.” She moves her gaze to me as if the tiny movement is so painful it can barely be borne. “Daughter,” Danu whispers. “It is time.”
Tears stream down my face. “How can I?”
She reaches out, her hands tantalizingly close but too far away to touch. I will never touch her or feel her embrace. She lives between Tír na nÓg and Earth, condemned never set to foot on either.
The fae herd the humans toward the tear, and none of them seem too upset to be going.
I hungrily take in every feature of my mother’s face. Her long silver hair is thin, and her skin withered and wrinkled, but there are still traces of beauty in her face.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before,” Nuadha whispers. “You have the same delicate elegance of your mother. Your heavenly lineage is obvious, Alys, and I am a fool not to have seen it before now. I am a fool for many reasons.” His eyes shine with unshed tears, and he holds my palm over his heart as we watch the humans file five abreast out of Tír na nÓg for good.
I grasp his hand but am unable to take my eyes off my mother while the humans pass through her as though she has no more substance than a light mist.
After an hour, Danu’s time grows short, and I know it.
Tears stream down my cheeks, and Nuadha squeezes my hand harder as the last of the mortals leave this magical place, and Danu turns her sad eyes to me.
“You know what must be done, daughter of mine.”
“I can’t! Please, don’t ask me to kill my own mother when I just found her. There must be a way to save you. Between us, we are powerful, and I have this.” I hold up the pouch containing the Bailitheoir.