I took a deep breath, letting it all soak into my senses and breathe life back into my well of glamour. Lasair danced beneath me, whickering and tossing his head. I laughed at his antics, reaching down and scratching his neck. Speirling gave him a curious look, as well as the other horses in the Dagda’s guard, and the jovial Tuatha De himself barked with laughter.
“There is something about springtime in Eile that gets the magic flowing in your veins,” he proclaimed, with a glint to his eye.
When Erintara Castle and its pristine city, standing proud and resplendent atop the tallest hill overlooking Lake Ohll, rose into my immediate view, I sighed, a mixture of emotions welling up in my heart. I was eager to see my biological mother again, even if we were still working on our somewhat tenuous relationship. I had hated Danua at first. Her cold callousness during our initial meetings had discouraged any desire to build a relationship on my part. Cade had told me the queen needed to put forth such a persona because of who she was, but it had taken me awhile to realize that much of that aloofness had been a shield of sorts. Danua had been forced to give up her two young children in order to keep them safe. I hadn’t liked her decisions and hadn’t understood them at first, but I had begun to realize it’d been her only choice at the time and she’d done it out of love.
I heaved a great breath, shaking those thoughts from my head. At least I didn’t have to worry about her reaction to my engagement to Cade. According to my husband-to-be, Danua had been the one who suggested it in the first place. I smiled. That had been another bone of contention between us. She had not liked my association with Cade. Now that the Morrigan was gone, and Cade being a large part of the reason for that particular outcome, she had warmed up a little more toward him. I hoped the growing bond between the three of us would only strengthen in time.
It was closer to evening than midday when we finally made it through the city and reached the castle proper. Many well-groomed stable hands greeted us in the courtyard and took the horses, leading them off to be pampered and fed. Fergus and Meridian, who had been traveling along the outskirts of our party, joined the horses as they headed toward Erintara’s stables.
You know where to find me, I sent to my spirit guide.
Yes. Castle, she returned, winging her way around the stone walls of the fortress.
The Dagda’s guard parted ways with us as well, joining the queen’s soldiers at the courtyard entrance as they were returning to the barracks after a day spent sparring and keeping the peace in the city below. Cade, the Dagda and I were led through the massive halls of Erintara as the servants who had greeted us at the doors searched for my mother. We found Danua in her throne room in the midst of listening to two Faelorehn men arguing over something I suspected had to do with a botched business agreement. The high queen looked immensely bored, but as soon as she saw us, she sat up straight in that smooth manner of hers and grinned a little. The gesture, although quite miniscule compared to most smiles, warmed my heart. She was glad to see me.
“Gentlemen,” she said, her strong voice carrying over the bickering tones of the two men, “your complaints will have to wait.”
They both stopped mid-argument, their faces stunned as they blinked up at her. I noticed that although they were clearly not part of my mother’s court, they were dressed in the rich style and fabrics of wealthy men. I had a feeling they were used to being treated on an equal standing with the nobility of Erintara.
“But, your majesty,” one man, the one dressed in red and violet with pale blond hair, began.
Danua held up a hand and cast him a sharp look. I almost cringed. I had been on the receiving end of that look before. The man opened his mouth, saying nothing, then closed it quickly.
“My daughter has just arrived, and she takes precedence over your pointless squabbling. Gharret,” she snapped shortly, turning to the other, darker-haired man, “you shorted Lochlainn two barrels of barley. You must make up for it in some other way.”
“Your majesty!” the man named Gharret protested.
But Danua stood up then, her gaze narrowing as the room cooled slightly.
“I have listened to the two of you argue all afternoon, and it has gotten you nowhere. I have heard enough to make a sound judgment. If you wish to bring your problems to my attention, then you must accept my decision. Now, be gone from my sight, so that I might greet my only daughter properly.”
The men lost their bluster then and quickly bowed their way out, casting me, Cade and the Dagda curious, yet irritated, glances as they left the room behind.
“Everyone else,” the queen announced, “is dismissed for the rest of the afternoon. Dairine, would you ask the kitchen staff to prepare tea for four? We will be in my study.”
A young lady in waiting curtseyed and disappeared through a side door. Once the room was cleared, Danua stepped down from her dais and approached us, her arms outstretched. I was a bit surprised to see her showing this level of welcome, but perhaps the reports from around the realm for the past few months had proven positive. Or, maybe it was that spring glamour in the air that had improved my mother’s usually icy mood.
“Meghan, it is good to see you, daughter. How have you fared since I last spoke with you?”
Although I hadn’t seen her since the Solstice celebration she’d held in winter, I had been making it a habit to write to her at least once every few weeks.
I smiled, clasping her fingers as she took my hands in hers. “Very well.”
My eyes turned toward Cade. He nodded his head once, knowing what I was asking him with just a look. Taking a deep breath, I turned back toward my mother and said, “And we have some good news, although I believe you already know what it is.”
She smiled brightly this time, a mischievous glint to her eye. She darted her gaze to my left wrist and then met my eyes again. “So, he finally worked up the nerve to ask you.”
It was a statement, not a question. Danua dropped my hands but took one arm and tucked it into her elbow, leading me away from the entrance of the throne room. Cade and the Dagda trailed behind us, starting up their own private conversation.
“I wondered how long it would take him after we spoke. When did he propose, exactly?” she wanted to know.
“Just before Imbolg,” I replied.
She laughed out loud and said, “Eager young man, your Cade.”
That comment warmed me far more than it should have. Not because my mother recognized Cade’s desire to commit to our relationship, but because of how happy she sounded at the prospect. I had no doubts about Cade’s loyalty, but knowing my mother was beginning to see that as well meant everything in the world to me.
As we moved through the door leading into her study, I leaned into Danua and rested my head on her shoulder. She stiffened at first, clearly unsure of how to respond to my sudden display of affection. “I’m glad you approve of Cade, Mother. I want us to be a family, and knowing you are happy to include Cade in that family means so much to me.”
Danua made a choked sound, but recovered quickly as she turned and ran her hand down my hair, the way a mother might soothe a young child. “I am ready to be a family again, Meghan,” she murmured, “and although I wasn’t sure about Cade in the beginning, I’d be proud to call him my son-in-law.”
Before our emotions could get the better of us, Danua pulled away from me and ushered us all into her study. After that, we had a nice, long conversation, filling one another in on what had been happening in our own parts of Eile during the latter half of winter. The tea arrived fifteen minutes later, after we managed to spread ourselves out amongst the collection of comfortable chairs in the room. Starving, since I hadn’t had much to eat that day, I quickly filled up a plate with finger sandwiches and pastries. Between bites of food and sips of tea, Cade and I relayed some of the highlights from our whirlwind visit to the mortal world and the Weald.
The rest of the evening was spent in this way, the four of us laughing and having an all-around good time. I
had not liked Erintara so much before, but now that my mother wasn’t encompassed in that shell of invisible ice, I felt more comfortable and at ease.
We stayed in Danua’s study long into the evening hours and only sought our own quarters once we had run out of things to talk about. When the fire finally burned down to coals, Cade and I sought out our room, the same chamber we had shared the other times we’d visited this castle. We were so weary from the activities of the day that we fell asleep the moment we got settled into bed.
* * *
For the next few days, the Tuatha De trickled into the royal city. The Dagda had been the first to arrive with Cade and me, then the next day Lugh and Epona made their grand entrance. The city was abuzz with excitement as the other kings and queens of Eile made their way to Danua’s court. I recognized everyone from the few meetings the high queen had called before the war with the Morrigan, but I couldn’t remember all their names. Besides my mother, the Dagda and Lugh, I knew Epona, Goibniu, Nuadu and Cernunnos, of course.
The god of the Wild was the last to arrive, and I made an effort to keep my distance from him. Cade was still concerned Cernunnos’s glamour might seduce me, and I already had a strange history with the antlered god. Before the war with the Morrigan, he’d given me all his glamour to help defeat our common enemy, but it had been wrapped up in a geis, and I had not been able to speak about it with anyone. Fortunately, it all worked out in the end. Still, I gave him a wide berth, only nodding and smiling politely and speaking to him if common courtesy required it. Someday, I hoped, Cernunnos and I would be able to look back on our strange alliance and laugh, but not today. The memories of that terrible ordeal were still too fresh.
The evening after everyone arrived, we gathered together in the great dining hall. The Dagda explained that since this was just a general meeting to report how the other realms of Eile were faring after the Morrigan’s fall, a formal assembly wasn’t necessary.
“Most of us will be leaving in the morning,” he commented, as we headed toward the dining hall, “but I’m guessing you’d like to stay an extra day or two?”
I glanced up at Cade, a question in my eyes. He merely shrugged. “It’s up to you, Meghan. And we do not need you to escort us, Dagda, if you wish to return home.”
The Dagda grumbled something about taking care of his foster son and soon-to-be foster daughter no matter how long we wished to stay in this overly-clean city of stone and insufferable formal manners. As always with this particular Tuatha De, I laughed.
Two of the castle staff opened the tall doors for us, and we were shown to our seats. As before, the three of us sat near the head of the table with Danua. I spotted Nuadu’s son, Bowen, at the other end of the great room. I waved across the table with a smile, and he returned the gesture. Cade lifted a brow at me, a bemused look on his face.
“What?” I asked, feeling somewhat chastened.
“Nothing,” he said, lacing his fingers with mine and planting a kiss on the top of my head. “Glad to see you consider Bowen a friend, even if it might prick a little at my pride.”
I snorted and shoved at him playfully. “Caedehn MacRoich, you fool. Don’t you know I fell in love with you the moment I saw you?”
His eyes sparked, and he sat up a little straighter, a smug smile on his face. “Really?”
I tilted my head to the side and quirked my lips, thinking about it for a moment. “Well, maybe not immediately after I saw you, but definitely after you rescued me in your Trans Am.”
I smiled sweetly at him, and he laughed, drawing my mother’s attention. Fortunately, the tension of an impending war was not looming on the horizon, and she took our antics with nothing more than a curious look and a slight quirk to her mouth.
The meal was a very pleasant affair with all the Tuatha De reporting to the high queen that their realms appeared peaceful and free of any dark influence. Although there were occasional faelah sightings, the evil creatures were easily and swiftly dispatched, and their occurrences seemed to be diminishing. Cade and I also made an official announcement regarding our upcoming bonding ceremony, in which all the Tuatha De present cheered and wished us their congratulations and their hopes to make it to the wedding come May.
Despite this positive news, however, I couldn’t help but feel a dark undercurrent permeating the room, growing farther outward the longer we sat there. Glancing up from my meal, I quickly cast my eyes over the entire hall. Everyone appeared to be in good spirits, laughing and conversing and enjoying the delicious food and drinking mead freely from their goblets. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was a joyful dinner party to celebrate an ongoing peace and the upcoming union of the high queen’s daughter and her husband-to-be. But that was just on the surface. Beneath it all, that dark vibe hummed like an underground chorus of deep voices. As subtly as I could, I sent my awareness out, trying to discover if this unspoken feeling resonated with Cade. To my relief, it didn’t. If there was any tension in him or his glamour at all, it was in reaction to my careful consideration.
Cade turned to regard me, his body inching closer to mine. A look of concern shadowed his features, and I gave him a bright smile, not wanting to worry him. He studied my face carefully for a few moments, and I banished what little unease remained. Eventually, he returned his attention to his soup, and I breathed a mental sigh of relief. A few moments later, I tried to sense that undercurrent again, but it had become so diluted, I could barely feel it.
Taking that as a positive sign, I got back to my dinner and told myself for what had to be the umpteenth time that I worried too much about imagined things. Only problem was, the last time I’d given myself that advice, it turned out I’d been right all along.
CADE
The dinner didn’t last as long as I had anticipated, but then again, since all the Tuatha De had nothing but positive things to report, we had no reason to linger. When the meal was finished, everyone rose to retire to their rooms. The Tuatha De nobles had their own lands to attend to, after all, and most of them would be leaving before sunup.
As we bid those around us a good night and a safe journey home, I turned to Meghan. Before I could so much as speak her name, however, Danua said, “Caedehn, I was wondering if I could have a word with you?”
I froze and turned toward the high queen. Her face was smooth and impassive, not a line of worry or anger, or any emotion for that matter, anywhere in her expression.
“Yes, your majesty,” I answered.
Meghan’s eyes held concern when I turned back toward her. I smiled.
What’s this about? she sent, using shil-sciar.
I have no idea, I returned, kissing her on the forehead.
“I’ll meet you in our chamber when I’m done speaking with your mother,” I said aloud.
Meghan furrowed her brow and leaned to the side to glance around me. Trying to read her mother’s expression, I guessed. Whatever she saw there must have given her some reassurance because she sighed and said, “Don’t be too long.”
After that, she stepped through the door, and I was alone in the dining room with Danua. I had thought I’d grown used to my sovereign’s overpowering presence. I thought, since I was now engaged to her daughter, I would feel more comfortable around her. I was wrong. Although Danua wasn’t as cold and distant as she had been before, she was still immensely powerful. Even now, with her glamour toned down, she seemed to encompass the entire room.
“Let us return to my study for this conversation,” Danua said, heading toward one of the doors at the end of the room.
I followed the queen through the door, then down a side passage and through a few more doors and hallways before spilling into her study. It was dark now, the fireplace a collection of dying coals. With a wave of her hand, Danua used her glamour to light a few candles, then took a seat in one of the stuffed chairs, motioning for me to take the chair opposite her. I did, remaining silent the entire time and wondering what in Eile she needed to deliberate about that re
quired retiring to her dark study.
“What I wish to discuss with you must not leave this room,” she said, her voice stern and clear. “You cannot repeat it to anyone, not even Meghan.”
I glanced up at her then, looking her in the eye. Her gaze was hard as ice again, the way it had been before the war with the Morrigan. Cold dread pricked at the back of my neck and traveled to the pit of my stomach. I thought of the strange aura Meghan had been giving off at the end of the dinner, and of the antsy feeling I had pushed aside the morning we left Luathara to visit the mortal world.
“And what is so important that you ask me to keep it from your daughter?” I managed, my tone low and dangerous.
Danua smiled coolly, regarding me with hooded eyes. She leaned back in her chair, her eyelids lowered and her demeanor oozing unquestionable authority.
“And are you telling me, Caedehn, that you don’t keep secrets from Meghan? Am I to believe you have told her everything about yourself, every little dark, disturbing detail?”
I felt my nerves tighten, and my wild glamour stir and growl, flashing its teeth and testing its restraints. Had I really believed Danua was starting to warm up toward me?
“There are certain things I’ve neglected to tell her, but not to deceive her. I keep the worst things to myself because it does no good burdening her with them.”
Danua nodded once, that coldness about her melting away a little. “And that is why I want this kept between me and you. We are allies now, Caedehn MacRoich, and I will be needing your help in the coming months and years. It is true what the Tuatha De have reported. The biggest threat they have noticed so far is the stray faelah or two, but they are busy people and have realms to run. They do not have time to look more closely at our world.”
Faery Tales: Six Novellas of Magic and Adventure (Faery Worlds Book 3) Page 27