04 Sphere Song - The Isle of Destiny

by Tricia O'Malley

  “We’re fierce, little one. This is but a test of our strength. Remember, we come from magick. We’ll be able to weather life’s challenges in ways others can’t.” Gwen had been chattering endlessly to her baby, constantly soothing the small soul in her womb while also calming her own nerves. When she had someone else to protect, it took the focus off herself and her own danger.

  One instant she was alone in the room, and the next a woman stood before her, seething with rage. Gwen automatically lifted the spear, blocking her body with it.

  This was Danu’s sister, Domnu, Gwen thought, immediately seeing the resemblance. But where Danu was light and grace, Domnu was darkness and evil. No less beautiful, Gwen observed, but beautiful in the way of a glacier. Lovely to look at, impossibly cold, and quite lethal to try and live with. Her dark hair writhed around her head in frazzled whips of anger and her eyes snapped in a face chiseled from hard edges. Oh, yes, she was beautiful – but in the most intensely dangerous way Gwen had ever seen.

  “Those idiots are winning,” Domnu seethed, all but pulling out her hair as she stomped a foot on the floor.

  “Um, what idiots?” Gwen asked, cautiously deciding to keep her talking.

  “Your silly Seeker friends. They must be stopped. They’re finding my hiding places too easily,” Domnu said, biting the words out as she began to pace the small room.

  “Gee, I’m really sorry to hear that,” Gwen said, her voice dripping in sweetness.

  Domnu shot her a glare. “I’d kill you for that, but I’ve got bigger things on my mind,” she said.

  “I don’t think you can kill me,” Gwen said and then almost slapped a hand over her mouth. What the hell was she thinking, needling the Goddess of Darkness like that? Of course she could kill Gwen. She could wipe out worlds if she wanted. Sometimes there were things that were better left unsaid, and Gwen didn’t usually realize that until she’d already said them. This was one of those times.

  “I can do anything that I want,” Domnu hissed, standing but inches from Gwen now, her eyes glowing with madness that Gwen had missed from across the room. Scary evil goddess was one thing, Gwen thought, going on high alert, but madness was an entirely different game. Proceed with caution, she chided herself mentally.

  “I’m certain you can. I’m not sure why I said that,” Gwen said honestly. “Sometimes I say things I shouldn’t.”

  “You’ll get yourself and your baby killed that way, you know,” Domnu said, so casually that it made Gwen’s heart skip a beat as Domnu turned away and paced the room once more, muttering to herself.

  “I’ll work on it,” Gwen said.

  Domnu shot her a look of disgust. “Work on what?”

  “On being better about filtering what I say,” Gwen said, gently this time, as the goddess appeared to be becoming increasingly agitated and erratic, mumbling to herself and tugging at her writhing hair.

  “It won’t matter much. You’re not long for this world,” Domnu shrugged, as though killing Gwen was as casual as swatting an annoying mosquito.

  “I sincerely hope that isn’t the case,” Gwen said.

  “I’m moving you,” Domnu said, having come to some sort of decision in her head.

  “What? Where?”

  “They are finding the treasures too easily. I’m moving you elsewhere. Frankly, I’d kill you if it wasn’t forbidden in the curse. Too easy, I suppose, for us gods to just take you out. The fae do love their little rules. I need to make this more difficult until the time runs out on the curse. We’ve only a few more days and the curse will have run its course, the treasures won’t be found, and the world will be mine once again,” Domnu said, her face lighting up with maniacal delight.

  “Where are you taking me?” Gwen asked, hoping for any information. She didn’t know what she’d be able to communicate via magick or telepathy, but damn it, she’d try.

  “I think we need to make things a little more tricky,” Domnu said and tapped her finger, studying Gwen.

  It happened like before, when she’d been on the beach speaking with Amynta. One instant she was there, and the next her world had completely changed. It was like flicking a switch and turning the lights out in one room, and flicking them on to find herself in another room.

  This time Gwen stood alone in what appeared to be a damp cave, as water rushed in and brushed her feet. Stepping back, she moved into a far corner until her back lodged against a wall and she could tuck herself into a small crevice so that she was protected on all sides. Drawing her knees up, she let her eyes adjust to the darkness. The only light came from a few cracks in a small tunnel, the same one the water was coming through. She watched the water lapping onto the pebbles below. It only took a few moments for fear to fill her heart.

  The tide was rising.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The town was as charming as Bianca had described it, and Neala itched to get out of the car and wander the streets to poke her head into various shops or pick up a few items at the market. It was the kind of place you could have a lovely wander in or hole up at the local coffee shop with a book on a misty afternoon.

  She’d been relegated to the back seat by an agitated Loch, and frankly, she didn’t mind it back here. Neala could secretly watch Dagda while peppering Bianca with questions about the town, though what she really wanted to ask about was the mermaids. Seeing as how they were Lochlain’s extended family now, Neala had decided against delving too much deeper, and Bianca had promised a night in the pub to tell her about all the amazing things she’d seen on the Isle of Destiny.

  “We’ll have to try Flynn’s restaurant one night. It takes ages to get a table there, but the seafood is to die for,” Bianca said, pointing out a cheerful blue building by the water with fishing nets and pots of flowers decorating the entryway.

  “I’d like to come back here. I feel like this village has good energy. I can see why people are drawn to it,” Neala said.

  “You could open a bakery here,” Bianca offered.

  “I’d prefer to open one closer to my current shop. Much easier to manage that way,” Neala smiled at Bianca.

  “I don’t know how you don’t eat everything in sight,” Bianca said. “I can’t imagine being around cookies and cakes all day. I’d be ten times rounder than I am now.”

  “And still just as beautiful,” Seamus said, dropping a kiss onto Bianca’s cheek.

  “Listen to this one. The gift of the blarney he has, that’s the way of it,” Bianca said, but she flushed with pleasure at his compliment.

  “I don’t let myself eat anything until I’m done with the baking for the day – then I get one item of choice. It’s a rule I had to put in place or I’d be much fatter than I am now,” Neala admitted.

  “You’re not fat, just curvy,” Bianca protested.

  “I’m definitely not a slender woman,” Neala pointed out.

  “You’ve got everything in all the right places,” Dagda said from behind the wheel, his eyes on the curvy road ahead, and the car went silent until Bianca let out a little hum.

  “Tell me more, Dagda. We’d love to know about her curves. And everything you know about them,” Bianca said, a cheeky grin on her face.

  Neala smacked her knee. “Would you stop it?” she hissed, heat rising to her face as she thought about where Dagda’s mouth had been the night before. His hands had most decidedly been all over every inch of her body, so he was well-versed on just what her curves held.

  At Loch’s hiss of disgust, they all shut up, and Neala let her head rest against the window, watching the water spread out before her as they curved their way along a cliffside road. Behind them the hills clambered up and fell away into rolling slopes of green, while below the seagulls swooped near where water broke on the rocks of the shore. Sometimes she forgot the beauty that Ireland could offer, stuck as she was in her day-to-day routine of running her business. She should take a few weekends off and visit places like this. It would be calming for her soul.

 
“Turn here,” Bianca piped up, pointing to where a long stone wall led to a dirt lane that turned off of the main road.

  “I don’t understand why we’re even stopping to see this woman. I understand she’s a great healer, but that’s of little use to me at the moment. I need to get to Gwen. Immediately,” Lochlain said, his fingers drumming a staccato rhythm on the dashboard.

  “Because she told us to stop on the way out, so my assumption is that she is giving us something for the journey,” Bianca said, glaring at Loch.

  “I have everything I need,” Loch said, holding up his two hands.

  “You might. But our Seeker may not. The more you push against this, the slower things will go. Just hush up and let us get through this so we can get back on the road,” Bianca said.

  Neala was amazed at how casually she put Lochlain in his place. The man was certainly intimidating, and not someone Neala would want to test her luck with.

  “Fine, but let’s make this quick or I swear to the goddess I will lay a curse upon this land and all the people within,” Loch threatened.

  “Yeah, yeah, we’ll make it quick,” Seamus said, shaking his head at Loch.

  The SUV bumped down the lane and turned a corner. Neala immediately smiled at the cottage that sat there, tucked away on the hill, the world at its feet. It was quintessential Ireland, and charming as could be. It made her long to knead bread by the window overlooking the water, a fire in the stove behind her, while her man told her stories as she baked. Neala found herself eyeing Dagda again, wondering if he ever wanted something like that. As much as she prized her independence, it would be nice to share a bottle of wine and talk with someone over dinner. Though she was content with her life, Neala wasn’t immune to loneliness.

  Fiona came out of the cottage, followed by an older man who must be her love, John. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him, and Neala smiled.

  “Aren’t they cute?” Bianca sighed.

  “That’ll be us someday, love,” Seamus said, patting her leg.

  “Don’t I know it,” Bianca said.

  Dagda stopped the car and they all piled out. Neala did her best to move quickly, for she knew that Lochlain was about to murder them all if they didn’t get on the way to saving Gwen.

  “Good morning. You all look well-rested,” Fiona said, smiling and introducing John to everyone.

  “We need to get on the road,” Lochlain said.

  Fiona studied him, clearly unintimidated by his blustering. “You must be Lochlain. I understand you’re scared for your woman. I have something for you to give her,” she said, and held out a small pouch.

  Lochlain reluctantly took it, tucking it in his pocket without looking at it. “Thank you,” he said, his tone terse.

  “Give it to her when you find her. She’ll need it,” Fiona said, and Lochlain’s face went pale.

  “Is she hurt? Is she sick? How do you know?” he demanded.

  Fiona held up her hands. “I just know what came to me in my dream. She’s safe, but time is of the essence. And I know she’ll be needing the remedy I’ve given you. For the babe,” Fiona said.

  Bianca gasped, clapping her hands together. “Is Gwen pregnant? You didn’t say anything.” She swatted Lochlain’s arm. “Congratulations!”

  “Aye, well, I imagine she wanted to tell people herself. And now you can understand why I’m mad with wanting to find them,” Lochlain said, his face showing desperation for the first time since Neala had seen him.

  “You go over to Flynn’s now. I’ve arranged for him to take you over to the island on one of his boats. It’s the fastest way to get there,” Fiona said, pointing them over the hill. They all hugged her quickly and said their goodbyes before piling back into the SUV.

  “I didn’t even think about a boat,” Lochlain admitted as Dagda floored the SUV, tearing them across the hills over toward Flynn’s stables and house, which stood on the opposite end of the cliff.

  “Told you Fiona wanted us to come for a reason.” Bianca couldn’t help herself, but then she reached out and squeezed Loch’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Loch. We’ll get her. She’ll be okay. If Fiona says it’s so, it is so. Just bring whatever’s in that pouch with you.”

  Loch patted his pocket and nodded.

  “The westernmost point is An Fear Marbh, or the dead man, due to the fact that the island looks like a dead man lying down. It is uninhabited and prime for an attack from the Domnua,” Dagda said as he pulled the car to a stop in front of a pretty farm house. “We’ll want to be on the alert at all times. No needless conversation, no joking, no distractions. We’re nearing the end of this quest and the Domnua are going to be desperate.”

  He was right, Neala realized, as they got out of the car and grabbed their packs. She tucked the sword by her side. They’d had some downtime, but hopefully it wasn’t all for naught. The Domnua could have been ravaging the world while they were drinking and dancing.

  Dagda strode across the yard, shaking hands with Flynn, and they had a brief conversation while Flynn pointed out a path which Neala assumed led down to the docks. The door banged and baby Grace tottered out, with a smiling Keelin on her heels.

  Neala caught the anguished look that fell over Lochlain’s face when he saw the baby, and her heart twisted in her chest for him. She wanted to tell him everything would be all right, but since much of that was riding on her, she didn’t feel comfortable doing so.

  Why did so much come down to whether Neala found a stupid treasure or not? These were people’s lives – their families – and the world at stake. And it all came down to her? What was the point of it all? She was just a simple baker from Kilkenny. Not some demi-goddess or whatever they wanted her to believe. They were wrong to put their faith in her, and it pained Neala to think that she would likely fail these good people.

  “Up,” baby Grace said at her feet, tapping her palms on Neala’s knees.

  “I can’t, Gracie, I’ve got to go,” Neala said, patting the girl on the head and moving to step around her.

  “UP!” Grace shouted, a command, and Neala was shocked to realize she couldn’t take a step forward. She was quite literally frozen in place by a steely-eyed angel baby.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Neala muttered. She bent to pick up Grace, who immediately crowed in delight and released whatever spell she’d held Neala under so that Neala could walk over to join the group.

  “Believe. Love. Believe.” Grace said before Neala could reach the others.

  Neala paused, looking down at the chubby-faced terror in her arms. “Did you say believe in love?” Neala asked, tilting her head in question.

  Grace nodded solemnly, reaching up to pat Neala’s cheeks with both hands.

  “I mean, I do. I know love exists,” Neala protested.

  Grace patted Neala’s chest, where her heart was.

  “Love. Believe. Him.” Grace turned, pointing to Dagda, and Neala shook her head at the baby.

  “I don’t love him, Grace. He’s a very nice man, but it’s not love.”

  “He loves. He needs,” Grace said.

  “Needs what?” Neala wondered and then shook her head. She certainly wasn’t about to get into a philosophical discussion with a toddler about her needs and love.

  “Needs to believe,” Grace insisted, holding her eyes steady on Neala’s until Neala nodded.

  “Okay. I’m not sure entirely how I can help with that, but I’ll let him know,” Neala said, not sure if that was what the toddler wanted. When Grace beamed and moved to slide down from her arms, Neala assumed she had interpreted it correctly.

  The group had started down the path, led by Flynn, while Keelin stayed at the house with Grace in her arms, waving their goodbyes. Dagda hung back until Neala caught up, so that the two of them walked alone for a moment.

  “Baby Grace told me that you need to believe in love,” Neala said, breaking the silence as they approached the cliff’s edge.

  “I do believe in love. Just not for
me.”

  Chapter Forty

  Neala whirled on him before they reached the group, her hands on her hips.

  “How can you say that after what we shared last night?” Neala demanded. She’d been itching for some sort of acknowledgement that things had shifted between them, but ever since they’d left the room this morning, Dagda had treated her like just another one of their group.

  “I hate to break it to you, darling, but that wasn’t love. That was two people blowing off steam after a particularly tough day,” Dagda said, his eyes skirting past hers to the people waiting for them by the cliff’s edge. He went to move around her but Neala stopped him.

  “No, I don’t think it was,” Neala argued.

  “You can think what you want, but that doesn’t change the truth of it.” Dagda shrugged.

  “You’re saying you aren’t attracted to me at all?” Neala asked, tilting her head so that she looked up at him, hurt radiating through her.

  “Of course I’m attracted to you. I’m a red-blooded male, aren’t I? You’re a beautiful woman. I’d be mad not to be attracted to you,” Dagda replied.

  “But what you said… about the moon…” Neala said.

  Dagda looked away. “Just some fancy words. A bit I picked up in a book ages ago. It makes women feel good,” he said, and Neala felt the pain slice through her, low and deep.

  “I’m nothing more than a conquest, then, am I?”

  “Ah, Neala, you weren’t a conquest. You were just there. We’re two healthy adults with an attraction. There’s no need to be reading more into it. Let alone speaking of love,” Dagda said, and Neala saw something shift in his eyes.

  “That’s it, isn’t it?” Neala whispered, beyond furious with him. Stepping forward until she was but inches from him, she challenged him. “That’s why you wouldn’t let me give you pleasure back, isn’t it?”

  “What is? What’s wrong with giving pleasure? I didn’t see you complaining,” Dagda said, his expression furious now, the shutters drawn on his deeper emotions.