04 Sphere Song - The Isle of Destiny

by Tricia O'Malley

  “It’s nice to be meeting you as well,” Neala finally said when she could get a word in edgewise. “My name is Neala, I own Sugar & Spice in Kilkenny, and I have no idea what I’ll be needing your services for – unless you’re interested in taking up baking?”

  Bianca laughed with delight, and then clapped her hands when Esther tottered back into the great hall.

  “Esther! I’ve missed you!”

  And just like that, Bianca buzzed her way over to Esther, leaving Neala hanging once more, and wondering just how scary the road ahead of her really would be.

  But at least she wouldn’t be starving, she thought, glancing down at her bowl.

  Small blessings. She’d take them where she could get them.

  Chapter Nine

  Neala was quickly introduced to Seamus, who shot her a charming grin which completely eradicated the label ‘awkward’ that she’d originally assigned to him. He may have been all elbows and legs, but the man had his own quiet charisma. She could see where he was a good foil to Bianca’s bubbly personality.

  She raised her hand, effectively silencing the table, and everyone looked at her.

  “Listen, I know this is all the usual for you guys and you all seem clued into whatever is going on. But since I’m not entirely convinced I’m not in a dream right now, I’d really appreciate it if people brought me up to speed now. As in immediately. Or I will be leaving out of that door in five minutes, passing through your little magickal security system or whatever, and hitchhiking my way the heck home, and you all can continue on your mission or whatever it may be without my help. Understood?”

  “I’m so happy that I like you. I was nervous the last Seeker would be difficult like some of the others were… not naming names.” Bianca held up her hands and Seamus mouthed the name “Sasha” at her across the table.

  “You have one minute,” Neala said, pushing back from the table.

  “Sit,” Dagda ordered.

  Neala put her hands on her hips, refusing to be intimidated by the man, even though he looked as though he could break tree trunks in half with his bare hands.

  “I will not. Explain yourselves. Now,” Neala said, and it seemed like her tone finally got through to everyone.

  “When I called you ‘sister’ earlier, I meant it,” Esther said, drawing Neala’s attention to where she smiled gently from the head of the table. “We are sisters in a unique group of women who have been tasked with trying to break a centuries-old fae curse. The good fae – under the goddess Danu’s authority – are working to break this curse. The bad fae, the Domnua, are working against us, in order to have the curse work in their favor. In other words, the walls of the underworld would fall and they would roam freely on our earth, creating bedlam and the end of the world as we know it.” Esther paused to sample some pho and beamed in delight at her spoon. “Yes, yes, I think I hit the mark there. Anyway, you, my dear, are part of a group of women who have been given the honor of seeking the treasures that have long been hidden by this curse. They are the great treasures often read about in the Four Treasures Celtic creation myths. You’ll see them used in a wide variety of ways across many myths, though Bianca would be the one to tell you more about that.”

  “One of the things that I went to uni for,” Bianca chimed in.

  “These two,” Esther continued, gesturing to Blake and Dagda, “are protectors. Each Seeker has her own protector assigned to her to help her on her quest, to kill any Domnua that attack and to, well, protect her along the way. Some have been protecting their Seeker silently for years; some meet their Seeker the day the quest begins. In my case – ah yes, he had been protecting me for a good bit of time.” Esther’s eyes lit with love. “One of the best men I’d ever met, and I had the privilege to love him for many years.”

  “He was a great man,” Blake agreed.

  Neala glanced between them both, seeing the love there.

  As stories went, it was a doozy, and Neala knew she’d have a lot of questions and probably a gazillion holes she could pick in the story. But what radiated from all of them was that they believed this story to be true. One hundred percent, no bull shite, honest truth. Irrespective of whether it was or not, this was their truth and Neala needed to tread carefully here.

  “Aye, well, that’s quite the tale you’re weaving. But I’m sure I’m not the woman you’re looking for. I’ve never had magick or been involved in any of that” – she waved her hand a little helplessly in the air – “and so I’m certain you’ve made a mistake, then. I’ll just be seeing myself out and wishing you all the best of luck on your journey. Or curse-breaking. Or whatever it is you believe yourself to be needing to do.”

  Pity, Neala thought as she rose from her chair and backed away from the table. She could see herself liking these people, especially that big bear of a man Dagda. But she had no time for crazy, as she had a business to run. They would need to recruit a different person to their little cult.

  “You’ll be marked,” Bianca called after her, stopping her in her tracks.

  “Marked?”

  “A tattoo of sorts. It will be a quaternary knot. A four-sided Celtic knot. The other women had them under their hair,” Bianca said. “Can you feel it on your scalp?”

  “I… no, I don’t think so,” Neala said, confused by her question, but her mind automatically jumped to a bump that she’d been touching for the past month or so when she’d combed her hair. She’d been meaning to take a peek at it in the mirror, but had forgotten each time.

  “I think you know,” Dagda said softly.

  Neala reached to run her hand over the bump at the base of her neck below her heavy tresses.

  “I can’t really be determining that, can I? I’ve got no eyes in the back of my head.” Neala held up both hands to the table of people who looked up at her, decidedly ignoring Dagda’s patient gaze. “Listen, I don’t believe in any of this. I’m just a simple woman with dreams of expanding my business and making people happy with my cakes and pastries. That’s all. Magick and curses and all that don’t really factor into my life. Best of luck with this all, really – and Esther, thank you for the pho. It was delicious.”

  Turning to leave, she screeched as a mirror materialized in front of her face, hovering inches in front of her nose, attached to nothing. Neala gaped at her own shocked image in the mirror and then slowly craned her head to see how it was held up. She went a little lightheaded when she saw it was floating of its own accord. When a second mirror showed up over her shoulder, she froze.

  “Look beneath your hairline,” Dagda said, his voice low, almost a growl.

  Neala gulped air, but did as he said, lifting a shaking hand to her hair and pulling it up. She piled it all over one shoulder and began to feel for the bump. Quickly locating it, she moved an auburn lock away until she could see what it was. And gasped.

  “It’s a quaternary knot. On my body. Like a tattoo I’ve no recollection of getting. Did I get one?” Neala babbled. “Did I get a tattoo one night after too many pints and just forget about it? Have I gone totally crazy? How could I have a knot on my head and be completely unaware of it? This is mental.”

  “I’ll happily give you a knot on your head if you don’t sit back down and help us out,” Blake said.

  Neala saw Dagda quirk that sexy half-smile again as both Esther and Bianca began to berate Blake.

  “Fine, fine, sorry,” Blake said, leaning over to pinch his nose and sigh. “I’m really worried about Clare and I’m not sure what this clue means.”

  “A clue!” Bianca exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight. “This is early on for a clue. Let’s have it then.”

  Blake handed it over and Bianca peered at it. Nobody looked at Neala. The mirrors had disappeared of their own accord and she had a decision to make. She took another step toward the door.

  And stopped.

  Turning, she met Esther’s look – a sympathetic one, but also one that brooked no nonsense. There was a part of her that fel
t oddly compelled not to let Esther down. And when her eyes travelled down the table to meet Dagda’s, she felt something even more.

  A challenge.

  And she’d never been one to resist a challenge.

  “Okay, you nutters, I’m in. Bring me up to speed.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure if you’re all mental or if I’ve gone mental meself,” Neala sighed. She leaned back, having moved onto a second glass of whiskey while Bianca had eagerly filled her in on the previous Seekers’ stories. The bit about the mermaids and sirens had made her get up, cross the room, and grab the whiskey bottle from the sideboard, but she was doing her best to follow along without judgment.

  “Listen,” Bianca said, and leaned forward, her pretty blue eyes dancing in a face flushed with excitement. “I get it. I’m not magick – not like these guys are, anyway. But I’ve always believed in it, and have been endlessly fascinated by the rich mythological history of magick and fae our country has. To find out that it’s true? Well, it’s like a scientist proving aliens are real. Hey…” Bianca turned to Seamus. “Are aliens real? Do you guys like talk and stuff?”

  “None that I’ve met, aside from that weird looking fellow in the pub a few years back,” Seamus mused.

  Bianca squeezed his arm. “You’d tell me, right?”

  “Anything for you, my sweet,” Seamus beamed down at her and Bianca laughed again, all but bouncing in her seat with love for him.

  “That’s my man,” Bianca smiled and turned back to Neala. “But I get it. It’s a lot to take in and the learning curve is steep. But here’s the truth of it – people are dying, the Domnua are deadly serious about winning, and we need your help. Whether you can fully believe it or not, I just ask that you suspend your disbelief and trust us. I know it may be a lot to ask, but we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t believe in this,” Bianca said.

  Everyone in the table nodded in agreement with Bianca, and Dagda raised his glass in a silent cheers to her.

  “That’s fair. Something you should know about me is that if I take a challenge on, I see it through. For better or worse. I’m not saying I’m always successful.” Neala shrugged, pushing the collar of her shirt back up from where it had slipped past her shoulder. “But if I say I’ll do something, I do it. For that, you can rely on me. I may screw this up, I may be more hindrance than help, but if what you say is true and our people are dying, I will help in any way I can.”

  “That’s all we can ask,” Bianca said.

  Esther leaned over and patted Neala’s hand in approval.

  “You’ll do just fine, honey. I’ve got a good eye for people and I see your spirit. You remind me of a fierce pirate warrior I once knew…”

  “I certainly don’t back down from much,” Neala admitted with a smile.

  “Can we discuss this clue? I think this needs to start with Clare,” Blake said, his patience worn thin.

  “Aye, let’s sit by the fire,” Esther said, and waved a hand at the dishes. “We’ll clean up after.”

  They all settled in on the various armchairs and settees pulled in front of the massive fireplace – which could easily roast a cow, Neala mused. Once they had settled in by the flames, as the rain poured outside, Bianca pulled the clue out and read it once more.

  It was only a matter of time

  Before the treasures were mine

  Perhaps you’ll find it a relief

  To know the key is Clare’s belief.

  “It seems childish,” Bianca remarked.

  “I agree,” Neala said. “As though it’s schoolyard taunting.”

  “I don’t think Domnu is known for being very wise, which is why she doesn’t rule up here,” Seamus said, and they all glanced at the window when thunder cracked outside.

  “See? She’s bitchy,” Bianca mused.

  “We must remember to use her temper against her then,” Neala said, and they all looked at her in surprise. “What? Isn’t it smart to know her weaknesses?”

  “Aye, that it is,” Dagda said, his voice warm with approval. “She’s vain, shallow, and easy to anger. All useful things to know.”

  “There’s something drawn on here as well,” Bianca said, lifting the paper to the light.

  Neala leaned over the arm of the creased leather armchair she was nestled in and peered at the paper. “It looks like a compass,” she decided, and Bianca nodded her agreement.

  “It does at that. The quaternary knot set in a compass. But why?”

  “Four treasures. Four cardinal directions. I’m assuming she’s placed each treasure at a cardinal point then?”

  Blake gaped at Neala, admiration lacing his handsome features.

  “I’ll be damned. I’m not sure I would have gotten that so quickly,” Blake admitted. “But it makes perfect sense. And with Clare being the first – I’d say she’d be north?”

  “East,” Neala said automatically and then shrugged when they looked at her. “I don’t know, it just came to me. I think the last treasure would be north, right? True north? The North Star, guiding us all?”

  “That does make sense, in theory. The Cauldron of Plenty, none go away hungry, true north – leading us all,” Bianca mused. “It fits.”

  “I still find it interesting that the cauldron is my treasure, being that I’m a baker and like to feed everyone,” Neala said. She’d been shocked to learn that her treasure was the infamous Cauldron of Plenty. Even she had read a myth or two about it – a treasure that served others, left no one hungry, and could feed famished villages or battle-weary troops.

  “Each of the Seekers is finely attuned to her own treasure,” Esther piped up. “I had the same treasure as you.”

  “You did?” Neala asked, warmth infusing her at the bond she now held with this little powerhouse of a grandmother.

  “I did. Though it wasn’t in my fate to find it, we were able to locate where it was being held at the time and provide more protection for the treasure. It wasn’t until we found the location that we learned it wasn’t meant for us to have. Instead, our job was to protect it with new magick – stronger magick, you understand?”

  “So you know where it is?” Neala asked, delighted at this turn of events.

  “No, I’m sorry, I don’t. I knew the location of it fifty years ago. But it’s magick – and fae magick at that – so it’ll have been moved long since.”

  “Fae magick is mercurial and tricky,” Bianca explained. “Nothing is as it seems, and they do love a good riddle or joke. For a treasure to stay in one spot for over fifty years would be unheard of. They move, get moved, or follow whatever spell is woven around them. Sorry, girl, but you’re still at square one there.”

  “Ah, well, it was worth a shot,” Neala said with a shrug.

  “Cannon Rock,” Blake said, looking up from where he scrolled on a tablet. “It’s a small island off the coast that’s famous for shipwrecks. There’s a disused lighthouse on the island.”

  “What do you think, Neala?” Bianca asked. “Does it feel right?”

  “I… I don’t know. How would I know that? I’m worried that I’ll lead you astray while looking for your love.” Neala nibbled on her lower lip in worry as she watched Blake.

  “Does it feel right? Yes or no, Neala,” Dagda asked, his voice rough and commanding.

  “Yes,” Neala said, surprised that it did feel right – to the best of her knowledge, she supposed.

  Blake jumped to his feet. “Let’s be off then. No time to waste.”

  “You’ll not go until I’ve packed supplies,” Esther ordered, and though Blake looked like he wanted to argue, he stopped, helpless to disobey his grandmother.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ll help. Also, any chance you have an extra jacket or a cloak of sorts? I’ve only this t-shirt, as I was taken from a hot kitchen and now it’s pouring rain out,” Neala asked, with a pointed look at Blake.

  “Of course. I’ve got everything you need,” Esther said.<
br />
  “Then I’ll help you with the food and supplies. It’s what we do, no?” Neala said.

  Esther beamed her sunny smile at her. “They do say a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

  Swallowing, Neala studiously ignored Dagda as she rose and helped to gather bowls. The man had been nothing if not courteous, aloof, and demanding when the moment called for it. But he exuded not a wisp of interest, romantic or otherwise. Neala would have been hard-pressed to even identify him as her protector aside from when he’d stopped Blake in the street in front of her bakery. Otherwise, she could have been a third cousin twice removed for all the interest Dagda had shown her.

  Certainly, Esther must be wrong about Seekers and protectors ending up together. For while a quick tumble with that one would surely be delightful, it seemed like it would carry more strings than she was used to tying. Deciding to change the subject, she smiled down at Esther on the way to the kitchen.

  “Now, Esther, I need the name of this cookbook. The pho was delicious…”

  Chapter Eleven

  Though Esther had insisted they stay for the night, Blake had refused. Which was understandable, Neala supposed; she wouldn’t want her man to sleep for a night before coming to rescue her either. If he loved Clare as much as he claimed to, she doubted he would get much sleep anyway. Best to just crack on and get the first leg of this challenge done, Neala thought as she stretched in the front seat of the Land Rover Blake was driving with a ruthless efficiency. They’d given her the front seat, though Neala had protested and pointed to Dagda’s height.

  “Aye, lass, I’ll be fine with the bags,” Dagda had said, and hopped into the back, stretching out easily among the satchels of food and other gear that Esther had deemed necessary for their journey. Neala had shrugged, not overly worried about his comfort if he wasn’t, and snuggled into the flannel-lined canvas coat Esther had dug out from somewhere for her. The deep olive green of the canvas made her eyes pop, she’d decided when she’d stopped in the bathroom to re-braid her hair.