Spear Song

by Tricia O'Malley

  Spear Song

  The Isle of Destiny Series, Volume 3

  Tricia O'Malley

  Published by Lovewrite Publishing, 2017.

  Spear Song

  The Isle of Destiny Series Book 3

  Tricia O'Malley

  Copyright © 2017 by Lovewrite Publishing

  All Rights Reserved

  * * *

  Cover Design:

  Rebecca Frank Cover Designs

  Editor:

  Elayne Morgan

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without express permission of the author. This includes reprints, excerpts, photocopying, recording, or any future means of reproducing text.

  * * *

  If you would like to do any of the above, please seek permission first by contacting the author at: tricia@thestolendog.com

  For those who look for the light.

  “Beware of the mermaids, with their hair of rainbow, their eyes of indigo.” –

  Conny Cernik

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  One Tequila

  Also by Tricia O'Malley

  Author's Note

  Chapter One

  “Be still, mother, just now. Just for a moment, now. That’s it, love, open your mouth,” Lochlain crooned, tilting his mother’s head back as he poured another elixir down her throat. It was the fifth carefully-curated potion he’d used just this day and, to his dismay, none of his tinctures were reversing the spell which was slowly murdering his mother from the inside out.

  “May the lot of you rot forever in darkness, Domnua,” Loch hissed, turning to pace the room as he raked a hand through dark hair that tumbled around a sharply angled face. His golden eyes all but glowed in rage as he continued to curse, his mind racing through the last of the magicks he could possibly perform to save his mother’s life.

  It had been three days since she’d encountered a Domnua on a foraging excursion deep in the isolated hills of western Ireland. As usual, she’d been harvesting ingredients for her spells that called for being plucked beneath the pale light of a new moon. It was also when the walls between the worlds were thin.

  Too thin, as Loch had unfortunately learned. The infamous curse, which had kept the Danula safe and the Domnua banished to the underworld for centuries, was coming to its final days. As the clock ticked on, the Domnua flexed their power, slipping more easily into modern-day Ireland, shielding themselves as they began to enjoy the virtual playground humans provided for them.

  The fae – both good and bad – could never resist the fallacies and dramas that came with the human condition. An extended lifespan could do that to a soul, causing the fae to be drawn to the resilient spirit of the humans, endlessly fascinated by watching both wars and love stories unfold.

  Once the Domnua had begun to taste their freedom again, keeping them contained had been like trying to hold two hands over a fire hose – they practically poured through the thin veil that separated the worlds. Loch’s mother should have known better; he’d warned her, hadn’t he? Loch cursed again as his eyes strayed to where she lay on her side, curled beneath a blanket, the fire snapping away to provide additional warmth on this chilly spring day.

  There’d been no reason to hurt her – aside from sending a message. Loch had heard tell of it across Ireland, whispered conversations in pubs and snippets of tales from travelers. The Domnua wanted to show they weren’t scared, which meant trying to kill the innocents. And had his mother not been as high up in the fae world as she was – a venerable priestess at that – she’d be dead now. Her magick had saved her, but now Loch had to wonder if it was only prolonging a painful end. Coming to his knees at her side, he pressed a hand to her cheek.

  “My mother, my heart, I will find your cure. This I promise.” Loch pressed his lips to her forehead.

  “My son. My heart. If I must go… I must go. My own fault.” Her words trailed off, and Loch’s heart skipped as he waited for her to take a staggered breath.

  “’Tis not your fault, mother, ’tis the murdering Domnua. I will avenge this. But first, I must be off to find you help. I’ve exhausted my remedies.”

  “My child. My stubborn, beautiful son. You have such good in you. Don’t let the dark win.” Her words faded, and Loch wondered if there was a hidden meaning to them. He had no time to waste, though, and brushed his lips over her forehead once more, promising a swift return. Then he rushed from their home with but one destination in mind.

  Loch raced through the mists of the early morning, which clung to the moody hedges and rolling hills that sheltered a town that was not known to mortal men. Any human passerby would simply see an expanse of barren hills, but if they were to attempt to climb or explore, they’d be met with a tangled hedge so impenetrable that they would be forced to turn back. His village of magickal people, the Danula, had a stronghold here – one of many scattered throughout Ireland. And far deeper within those hills was a sacred cave of such legend and enchantment that no fae dared go there, as the penalty was death.

  Loch paused as he drew near. He felt the press of magick, the invisible barrier of the first ward that would alert to movement near the cave, and stopped just short of it. Reaching out with his extra senses, Loch began to track and find where the various wards and enchantments were. Reaching deep within to magicks he was sworn to never use, Loch began to invalidate and null the wards, spinning quickly through each boundary, firing off spells and magicks until he stood in front of the cave, his heart racing.

  If he stepped through this door, his life would be forfeit.

  But his mother would live.

  Without a second thought, Loch pushed through the door and rushed to find the one thing he knew would save his mother – a bottle of sacred blood from the Goddess Danu herself. Not needing light to see – his eyes adjusted quickly – he raced through the rooms, assessing and discarding all the various treasures found there. Had he more time, he’d allow himself the joy of sifting through the beauty of what was a veritable Aladdin’s cave, but every second counted.

  Both for his own life and his mother’s.

  Loch drew to a stop, having rounded a narrow rocky outcropping to find what he sought: a blown glass bottle, twisted and turned in a gossamer-thin veil of faintly purple crystal, vines reaching toward petals containing a Celtic quaternary knot. The stopper itself was a ruby rose of purest red, mirroring the liquid it contained within.

  For one infinitesimal moment, Loch’s heart stopped as he allowed the sacred beauty of something only whispered about in le
gends to wash over him, before he shut his thoughts and his fears down. At this point, he was a warrior with one goal in mind – get the magick to his mother. Reaching out, he wrapped his hands around the bottle and tugged it gently from the stand on which it was nestled.

  Instantly, light – a thousand times as bright as the stars – lit the room, blinding him, as the sound of the Mireesi, the goddess’s avenging angels, raged through the cave, their sound as beautiful as it was painful. It ravaged through his head like millions of razor blades slicing his mind. Before the song made him lose his mind, as it was sure to do, Loch pulled out the last trick he had and vanished into thin air as the angelic warriors flooded the protected space – only to find an empty room with the most sacred of blood missing.

  As their cries of despair rolled across the land, those in the village froze, knowing there was a breach, knowing that a death of one of their own was imminent. All eyes turned towards the hills, where a flood of amethyst warriors, winged beasts of the most glorious creation, rolled on molten waves as they poured from every crevice in the hills, madly searching for the one – the only fae in all of time – who had been powerful enough to breach their wards.

  And to ensure his death was immediate.

  Chapter Two

  Loch materialized at his mother’s side, wincing as he watched her chest heave, the dreaded death rattle already taking over her withered body. Without hesitation, he pulled the rose stopper from the bottle and gently cupped his mother’s chin, pushing her mouth open.

  His mother’s eyes slitted open, the light in them already fading as she focused on the bottle he held in his hands.

  “No…” It was no more than a gasp, a breath of air, but the terror in her eyes was real. She knew as well as any that Loch’s actions were a death sentence for him.

  “Yes,” Loch said. He poured only a few drops into his mother’s mouth, knowing that too much would alter her in a way he would be powerless to change. He didn’t want to make his mother a half-goddess – he simply wanted to save her life. Her eyes tracked him, stricken, but Loch just held her hand until he saw her take her first uninhibited breath, her lungs no longer rattling and a faint bloom brushing her cheeks. Seeing what he needed to, he leaned over to brush a kiss over each cheek and then her forehead.

  “Be well, my heart. My mother, blood of my blood. My love for you transcends time and I will never regret having made this decision for you. I must go now – they’ll find me here. Be safe – tell stories of me, as I live on through you,” Loch whispered, and his mother’s hands clenched his arms, tears seeping from her eyes as she shook her head.

  “Too much. You’ve done too much. You should have let me go.”

  “Never too much. You’ve touched more in this lifetime, saved more people and done more good than I ever have. You’ve earned your right to stay and continue your good works. It is my gift to you, a son to his mother, one of the highest priestesses of the land and one of the most benevolent hearts I know. Continue your magick and plant a rose bush – think of me as they bloom,” Loch said, then tilted his head to listen. Hearing the cries of the avengers on the wind, he pressed one last kiss to her cheek, delighted to see the light burning in her golden eyes – twins of his – once more.

  Loch used his magick to whisk himself away, comforting himself with the fire that blazed in his mother’s eyes and ignoring the pain he saw shadowed in their depths. What was done was done. He’d accept the consequences as a warrior – a high fae priest – did, and would take his mortal blow with grace.

  Materializing outside the cave once again, he walked carefully inside, no longer using magick nor caring if the wards were tripped – alerting the Mireesi to his presence there. The safest thing he could do at his point would be to return the goddess’s blood to its throne, at the very least ensuring it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. Carrying such a treasure unprotected out in the world could lead to a mass revolution, worlds colliding, magicks of the darkest and most insidious powers rising up and seeping across the lands. At least here, in the moments before his certain death, he could return it safely.

  Loch placed the bottle gently back on its pedestal, already knowing the avengers watched him from behind, but he didn’t turn. Instead, he secured the bottle, making certain the ruby rose stopper was tightly secured and that the crystal bottle was once again surrounded by its magickal bonds. He took a moment to stare at the beauty held there, something no living fae had seen, before turning and dropping to his knees. Hanging his head, he awaited his final judgment, knowing that it would be instantaneous and irreversible. Sighing, he sent a quick spell of protection to his mother and awaited his end.

  “Stand.” A voice unbearably rich in beauty – both a choir singing and angels weeping – washed over him, making shivers rush through him and demanding an immediate response.

  Loch stood, raising his eyes to see the Goddess Danu, having taken the form of a stunningly gorgeous woman, ripe with curves and lush in the prime of youth – an apple waiting to be plucked from the tree. Loch fought the immediate surge of lust that coursed through him, instead dropping his eyes from hers; he bowed deeply.

  “Goddess,” Loch said, his tone respectful, his eyes on the damp floor of the cave.

  “Lochlain Laird, high priest of my people, what have you done?” Danu demanded, her voice causing twin spikes of lust and fear as Loch’s mind raced, wondering how to play this out. The fact that he was still alive was unthinkable, and he wondered what that meant for him.

  One thing Loch knew was that if he told her someone had been given her blood, that person would be captured and quarantined, as it was still uncertain what magickal benefits a drop of goddess blood might unleash in a fae. Still certain his death was imminent, Loch raised his head and flashed a cocky grin at Danu.

  “Just thought I’d see for myself what all the hype was about this cave. It’s really quite interesting, all the artifacts in here.” Loch glanced around, allowing insolence to infuse his manner before raking a hand through his hair and shrugging. “Certainly some lovely magicks.”

  Danu tilted her head, studying him, and the cave remained silent.

  “You know, I’ve always liked you,” Danu finally said, causing Loch’s façade to crumble a bit as he caught her eyes in surprise. She walked slowly toward him, coming to stand but inches from his body, her power brushing over him, making every nerve ending he possessed go on high alert.

  “Is that so?” Loch said, forcing himself to remain brash, though his mind whirled as he tried to resist the power of her. It threatened to sweep him under, rendering him defenseless.

  “Yes. So strong,” Danu said, stroking a hand up his arm, heat trailing in its wake, “Hot-headed, stubborn, and with a fierceness that very few warriors have. And yet, deep within lies a heart that is pure gold – one that makes choices for the good of others, often for the good of all.” Danu continued to run her hand over his arm, stepping a breath closer as she looked up at him with eyes of amethyst, slanted at the corners, holding the secrets of the world in their depths.

  “Only but to serve your highest wish, my goddess,” Loch said, ignoring the invitation he saw in her eyes.

  “I almost took you for a lover,” Danu said, and Loch felt his stomach clench, his body responding against its own will to her words, as any man would in the face of such beauty and power. “But you are not for me,” Danu said, patting his cheek gently before stepping back.

  Loch, wisely, kept silent.

  Danu paced a few steps, her arms tucked behind her as she considered her options, the Mireesi standing steely behind her, their eyes never leaving Loch.

  “Why did you take my blood?” Danu asked, meeting his eyes directly. Loch felt the force of her pressing into his mind, seeking the answers. Shielding against her with all his magick and mental acuity – and unsure whether it would be enough – Loch once again lied in the face of the highest power in all the worlds.

  “I just wanted to see what powers it h
eld,” Loch said, shrugging.

  “And? Did you find what you sought?” Danu asked, cocking an eyebrow at him as she planted a hand on her hip.

  “Aye, I did at that. Very powerful magick, my goddess.” Loch dared to smile cheekily at her, not caring so much anymore, as his death was certain now.

  “And you will accept the consequences of your actions – no matter what they may be – as you’re guilty of one of the highest crimes a Danula can commit?” Danu asked, her eyes never leaving his.

  “Aye, my goddess. I accept my death with apologies for my actions,” Loch said.

  “You will not tell me what you stole my blood for?” Danu asked for the second time, her power probing his mind, while Loch fought to keep her out and protect his mother.

  “I told you – curiosity. As you said yourself, I’m stubborn. It was very difficult for me not to know the secrets this cave held. Now I do, but to my own detriment. I shall serve as a lesson for others,” Loch said and waited once more for her to order his demise. He couldn’t understand why she was dallying with him, as every fae knew that entering this cave was certain death.