Faeborne: A Novel of the Otherworld

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Faeborne: A Novel of the Otherworld Page 39

by Johnson, Jenna Elizabeth


  As they made their way down to the barn, Rori held tight to Seren’s hand as if he feared she’d run off into the woods once again.

  “Are you really going to stay with us, Seren?” he asked, his eyes finding hers.

  She smiled, her healing glamour building up inside of her. It felt a little stronger today, but still not up to its full potential. She stopped walking and took his hands in hers.

  “Do you know how much I love you and your uncle, Rori?” she asked him in a gentle voice.

  Rori shook his head, his eyes still wide.

  “I love you so much that I would trade my freedom and my very life to keep you safe.”

  “I don’t want you to do that!” Rori cried, taking a step closer to her.

  He threw his arms around her waist, hugging her close. She returned the gesture, pressing one hand to his back and the other to the back of his head.

  “Don’t worry, Rori. That won’t happen. But I will never leave you again. I promise.”

  For several minutes, they just stood there, drawing comfort from one another. Eventually, Seren extracted herself from Rori’s hold and said in a much more cheerful tone, “Now, let’s see to fashioning some traveling crates for your flock.”

  Rori beamed, and the two of them set about harvesting thin willow branches from the trees alongside the creek. By the time they gathered enough to start construction on the pens, Brenn was returning from Dundoire Hollow. Two riders followed him, a man and a woman Seren could only guess were Artur and Creidne.

  “Rori, my boy!” the Faelorehn man roared enthusiastically, as he climbed down from his own mount.

  “Artur!” Rori called back, dropping his bundle of sticks and running straight for him.

  Seren stood utterly still, her eyes wide as she studied their visitors. If one of the legendary bears of the northeastern mountains could take on Faelorehn form, she would say he stood before her now, lifting Rori’s relatively small frame and spinning him around. The man, Artur, was enormous with dark hair and a full beard to add to his ursine appearance. Despite his somewhat terrifying visage, however, he laughed openly and had a gentle kindness about him. Beyond her initial impression, Seren liked him immediately.

  “Seren?” Brenn said, jerking her attention away from the man-bear. “This is Creidne.”

  He indicated a lovely red-haired woman standing beside him. Her smile was as charming as Artur’s behavior, and Seren couldn’t help but return the gesture. She was tall, nearly as tall as Brenn, and she wore a plain dress beneath a green hooded cloak. “And that,” Brenn continued, “as you might have guessed, is Artur, her husband.”

  Creidne, who had clearly been holding back her excitement, rushed forward and threw her arms around Seren, drawing a surprised gasp from her.

  The woman let her go just as quickly as she had scooped her up, and then held her at arm’s length. To her surprise, Seren noted tears in the other woman’s eyes.

  “Oh, it is so wonderful to meet you! Brenn was right, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”

  Heat bloomed on Seren’s cheeks, and she cast a quick look in Brennon’s direction. He smiled knowingly at her, but she was glad to see a bit of color staining his own complexion.

  “Artur! Look at this lovely young woman Brenn has kept hidden from us!”

  Artur tucked Rori into his side, holding him the way a normal sized Faelorehn man might hold a toddler. His smile was a white crescent beneath his beard, and his dark eyes glittered. “Aye, she is lovely indeed. Very pleased to meet you, Miss Seren.”

  He gave her a slight bow, and she returned it.

  “I have invited the O’Seanains to join us for dinner, so we might discuss our plans,” Brenn said.

  Creidne nodded and turned back to Seren. “Yes, and I must hear more about you. Brenn has told us much, but I’m sure he’s left plenty out.”

  She waggled her eyebrows, and Seren felt her stomach drop. She shot her eyes to Brenn and using shil-sciar sent, What have you told her?

  Only that you had been threatened and fled, and while I was looking for you, Uscias and Baird took Rori. I told them about the fight and what happened.

  They know we are responsible for the deaths of all those people?

  Brenn nodded. No one will blame us. The feud between my family and Baird’s has gone on for a very long time. Artur told me no one in Dundoire Hollow plans on seeking revenge, at least not for now. Their fear of my glamour is too great. But their trepidation won’t last forever, and then, we would have to contend with angry family members. Another reason it is good we’re leaving.

  Seren bit her lip and nodded, then thought of something else.

  You didn’t tell Artur and Creidne about my healing glamour, did you?

  Seren feared her words scrawled too harshly across Brenn’s mind because he took a small step back and jerked his head up ever so slightly.

  His response seemed hard and clipped when it came. No. I did not tell them your secret.

  I’m sorry, Brenn, she apologized, trying to make her words more soothing this time. It’s just that I’ve kept it a secret for so long, I’m not yet used to trusting another to keep it safe just yet.

  You can trust me, my love.

  I know.

  She smiled warmly at him, and he grinned.

  “Well, it’s late afternoon and almost time to start the evening meal. Shall we all go inside where it is warm and get started?” Creidne asked of all those standing around the barnyard.

  “Yes!” Rori piped, pushing against Artur so he’d let him down. “I’m starved!”

  The energetic boy led the way, running up the path with a small pack of wolfhounds trailing after him.

  Creidne turned and gave Brenn a curious look. “He is making his way around the yard much better than last time we were here.”

  Brenn cleared his throat and cast Seren a quick look before saying. “Yes. When Baird and Uscias took him, he apparently hit his head in the struggle. As horrible as the experience was, it looks like the accident somehow returned a bit of his eyesight.”

  “Oh, well that is wonderful! Not that those heartless bastards hurt him, but that he can see again,” Creidne proclaimed, as they started following after Rori.

  “His eyesight isn’t entirely returned, but he says he can make out objects in his path,” Brenn corrected.

  Seren brushed her fingers down his arm as she passed him, her quiet gratitude for thinking so quickly on his feet.

  For the rest of the afternoon and well into evening, the four adults and Rori enjoyed one another’s company as they shared food and stories between one another. Seren had been concerned about the town’s reaction to the deaths at the crossroads, but since they were leaving Ardun and Dundoire Hollow behind, it didn’t matter any longer. Instead, she tried to banish all negative thoughts from her mind as she genuinely enjoyed the lively company of Creidne and Artur.

  Eventually, the night came to a close, and the couple hugged both her and Brenn goodbye.

  “We will miss you, Brennon Roarke” Creidne sniffed, fighting back tears. “You know you have been like a son to us.”

  Brenn firmed his mouth and nodded once, turning to clasp forearms with Artur.

  “If there is ever a time we can return to visit,” he began, but the big Faelorehn man cut him off.

  “You must keep away, for Rori’s sake. The Morrigan knows what this place means to you, so she will always be waiting for you to give in to your weakness and return. If you keep far away, it will be harder for her to find you. I wish you luck, my friend.”

  That night, Brennon slept fitfully, but Seren was there to send her soothing glamour deep into his mind to ease his demons. Her magic still wasn’t at its full strength, but she could not stand to see him suffer. The faeduhn darkness was more present and greater than Brenn had let on the other day, and Seren spent half the night worrying at her bottom lip. They no longer had to fear the Druid and his followers, but there was something worse they mu
st avoid. Seren had no idea how they would hide from the Morrigan now that the geis was broken, or how they would keep the dark magic from completely overtaking Brennon’s soul. They might be able to flee Ardun, but that didn’t mean the goddess wouldn’t come after them, especially if she hungered so strongly for Brenn’s glamour.

  We’ll find a way, she thought to herself, as she brushed the hair from Brenn’s damp forehead. We must.

  For three more days, Brenn, Rori and Seren gathered together the belongings they could not bear to part with. Most of the furniture and the livestock would remain behind in the care of Creidne and Artur, but they would bring with them most of the food supply, clothing, blankets and many of the books.

  “Fortunately, we have Dermot and a flat wagon,” Brenn said good-naturedly, trying to cheer Rori up the morning they meant to leave.

  The boy was withdrawn, his eyes sad. Brenn couldn’t blame him. He himself was struggling against the maudlin mood trying to get the better of him.

  Brennon paused in his task of securing the trunks and crates of preserved food, carefully selected books and clothing to the bed of the cart to sit down beside Rori on a bale of hay. The chickens were locked in their pen, the hens clucking in distress and Ruan doing his best to rally them. Nola, in her own traveling enclosure complete with a cushion, was beside them, meowing in feline outrage. Brenn threw an arm around his nephew and pulled him close.

  “It’ll be good, Rori, for us to get away from here. We never much talked about what happened to your mother, father and grandparents. It was always too hard. But the tragedy surrounding this place has been hovering over us too long. Perhaps the gods are working in secret to give us both a chance to move on in our lives.”

  His voice had dropped, taking on a bit of emotion as he brought up the memories neither of them ever wanted to discuss.

  “I suppose,” Rori said, with a sad huff. “I’ll miss it here, though. I’ll miss the woods and the barn and the creek and the pond.”

  Brenn hugged him tighter. “Maybe we’ll find a new place that has all those things. Or maybe something better.”

  Seren found the two of them like that, sitting just inside the entrance to the barn, both of them with their shoulders slumped, and their eyes fixed on a scene long past. She bit the inside of her cheek and continued down the hill. She had been gathering up the last of the items she wished to bring along: the beautiful yarn Brenn had given her, a spare blanket from the bed, the doe statue and mistletoe bracelet from Solstice, a few empty journals she’d found tucked away in the library. All of this she managed to fit into a sack she could throw over her shoulder.

  Brenn looked up at her approach and smiled, his eyes still cool with sadness but warming as she drew nearer.

  “I just need to make sure the other animals have enough food and water until Artur and Creidne can make it out here tomorrow, then we can leave.”

  It still drew a pang in Seren’s heart, thinking about leaving this place that had become a home to her. No, Seren. It isn’t so much the house and the land surrounding it, but the two people who took you into their hearts. And, they are leaving with you.

  She smiled and drew in a deep breath, trying to control her own emotions. But her sadness evaporated the second she turned around. Someone was approaching from the south, walking slowly up the narrow trail leading from the main road.

  Seren drew in a shocked breath as the figure, a woman or a girl, drew nearer. She didn’t wear a dress but was outfitted like a soldier in a simple uniform. Her curling brown hair was tied back, and when Seren squinted her eyes, she thought she saw the hilts of two swords rising above her shoulders. If that wasn’t enough to cause alarm, she also carried a longbow, its string running across her torso with the bow itself curving against her back. Her left hand was free, but in the right she clasped a long dagger.

  “B-Brenn,” Seren called out nervously, drawing the hood of her cloak over her head.

  Something in the tone of her voice must have given away her fear, because he was out of the barn and by her side in a heartbeat. Rori, curious about the sudden commotion, abandoned his hay bale and came to join them. The dogs also perked up their ears, their attention now on the silent stranger walking up the path. Immediately, they began growling and barking, the hair rising along their backs. But that didn’t deter the stranger. She was now close enough for Seren to see her better.

  She wasn’t very old, in her early to middle teens, Seren guessed. Far too young to be out in the world, alone and armed the way she was.

  “Who are you?” Brenn called out, trying to push Seren and Rori behind him.

  The dogs continued to circle and growl, and Dermot flared his nostrils, his ears pressed back as he tossed his head. Seren reached out a hand and placed it against his flank, sending calming, healing glamour into his body to ease his fear. She couldn’t blame him. There was something sinister and disturbing pouring off this girl.

  The young woman stopped a dozen yards or so away and cocked her head to the side. Her grey-green eyes were devoid of emotion, even when they darkened more towards brown. She studied them the way a hawk studies a simple-minded mouse in the fields. Seren tried not to shiver.

  “Who are you?” Brenn repeated, his voice deep and unyielding. “Why have you come here?”

  The stranger, who had been eyeing the dogs, lifted her gaze and met Brenn’s. Immediately, an unnatural cold washed over him. Seren felt it as well, a tremor rolling through her body in response.

  “I seek a sacrifice for the Morrigan,” the girl said simply, her voice, like her eyes, devoid of emotion.

  Seren drew in a gasp and moved closer to Brenn, careful to keep the hood of her cloak in place.

  As the adults tried to gauge how much of a threat this girl was, Rori pressed close to his uncle, holding tight to the hem of his shirt. He narrowed his eyes, trying desperately to see more than his barely-healed eyes would allow him. He couldn’t make out too much; the details of the stranger’s face were skewed, but he could tell she was tall and wore dark clothing. But it was what he’d heard that frightened him the most. She had mentioned the Morrigan. Was she here for him? For his uncle and Seren?

  Brennon cursed as Seren tried to move forward. Rori imagined she wanted to hide him better, but his uncle had a good grasp on her arm, and he wasn’t about to let her draw more attention to herself.

  Good, Rori thought. We can’t let her have Seren. Seren is ours!

  A sudden flash of heat blasted Rori, and he drew in a sharp breath. The wolfhounds yelped and whined, pulling away from the tall girl. Brenn and Seren drew in harsh gasps of shock, as well. Pure, unfiltered power radiated off the stranger, threatening to sear them all where they stood. Rori had never heard of anyone having glamour so potent.

  “Give me what I have come for, and I will leave the rest in peace,” the girl said, in that flat tone. It reminded Rori of the hot desert winds of Fomor he’d read about in one of his books; relentless, dry and destructive.

  “Why do you do the Morrigan’s bidding?” Brennon demanded in response. “Do you not realize the evil she spreads?”

  The heat of the girl’s glamour shrank instantly, as if Brenn’s question had wounded her. Rori wondered why someone with such power could be hurt by mere words.

  “I have not come here to trade words with you, Faeduihn,” the girl hissed gruffly.

  Rori felt the muscles in Brenn’s body tense, and the hand Seren had placed on his shoulder tighten. Somehow, Rori imagined they traded a silent conversation between them, because when his uncle spoke again, his voice was strangely calm and distant. The tone was compelling and soothing, and Rori found himself hanging on every word.

  “Go back to your goddess,” he said, “go and tell her the quarry you seek has perished in a fight with her Druid puppet and his underlings. Tell her the boy was taken from his home, beyond the stone circle, and that is what led to the fight. The tool she wishes returned has been broken and can no longer be used. Brennon Roarke is
dead.”

  Rori gasped and would have cried out that none of it was true if Seren hadn’t clamped down even harder on his shoulder.

  “No, Rori,” she hissed, so low he could barely hear it. “Say nothing and be still.”

  The Morrigan’s servant swayed on her feet, her head lolling forward. She was nothing but a dark smudge against the white landscape to Rori’s eyes, but he was still able to discern her subtle movements by the way the light bent around her. After a time, she lifted her head and directed her attention toward Brennon, her voice tight when she spoke.

  “I am sorry for bothering you. I will be on my way.”

  She turned then, as if compelled by some distant force, and began walking awkwardly back down the path. The thin layer of snow crunched beneath her feet, each step forcing Rori’s heart farther and farther up his throat. He held his breath, and he guessed by the stillness of Seren and his uncle, they did as well. For a few glorious seconds, he thought they were safe, but then the woman stopped and turned back around. Rori buried his face into his uncle’s side, unable to watch even if his eyes allowed him to see very little.

  Brenn felt the fear in Rori’s trembling body and did his best not to let his own match it. He cast Seren a quick, intense glance, and she gave him one just as fierce.

  Did your controlling glamour not work? she brushed against his mind, her words panicked.

  It must not have, he returned, trying to stay calm. Take my hand, Seren. We may have to fight for our lives.

  Seren placed her trembling hand in his, and he squeezed her fingers, trying to deliver reassurance. He wanted to scream, to curse, to wrench the wretched gods and goddesses from the earth and sky and shake them for the cruelty they now dealt out. They had been so close, so very close to escaping the Morrigan’s wrath. But, they hadn’t left Ardun fast enough.

  Brenn tried to swallow back his anger and fear, but his mouth was too dry.

  I will use the full force of my glamour, Seren. It means I will undoubtedly succumb to the faeduhn magic, but if it will buy you and Rori time, then so be it. I want you to run into the forest and don’t stop. Run for as long and as fast as you can. Get Rori onto Dermot and leave the cart. Transform into your doe shape and lead him to safety. Please, do this for me.

 

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