by Ren Curylo
dry rafters of the enclosed porch. “You’ll plague me no more,”
Chéile hissed.
Shouts of alarm sounded from within the house and
footsteps thundered across the wooden floor, moving swiftly toward
the back porch where Chéile stood, smiling at the smoldering corpse
of her enemy.
The back door opened and three of the humans stood gaping
at her.
Chéile raised her hand to the burning rafters and the flames
disappeared, though they continued to consume Erish’s body as it
lay on the floor before her.
“Mo dhia,” one of the humans whispered.
“What happened to Erish?” one man said, stepping forward. “Halt,” Chéile said, holding up a hand and freezing him in
midstride.
The other human blanched white, and fell back behind the
first, clearly having no taste for confrontation.
“Let this be a warning to you all,” Chéile snarled. “This is
what happens to you when you cross the great Goddess Chéile.” “Chéile?” one of the humans whispered in a disbelieving
tone.
“If you don’t want to end as Erish has done, don’t seek my
disfavor. It would behoove you to warn your fellow humans as well.
It’s the only reason I’m allowing you to live.” She instantly Traveled
to Na Réaltaí.
1 month later Phaedrus 19, 763 Beach Cliff,
Tiran, Corath
Chéile For the entirety of the last month, worry consumed Chéile and left obsessing over the mystery child she didn’t know existed until the day she killed Erish. She didn’t know the child’s name, or where to start looking for it. She realized, in frustration, that Lerien was an awfully large place to search for a tiny Fae creature. What kind of Fae? She had no idea where to start her search. Who could help me?
The only person she could think to go to for help was Muirgan, but Chéile had no idea where to start looking for her, either. She hadn’t been able to contact her for some time. Anoba or Oseyan could likely help her find the Selkie, but the thought of asking those two for help made her bitter.
Chéile didn’t allow her self to doubt that she would eventually find Muirgan. She raided the weapons room again, and found a lobster charm she hoped would entice the woman to help her once she did locate and contact her. She kept it with her in the same pocket where she kept the sword hilt she had stolen.
Implementing the methods she had used so many times before to contact Muirgan, she devoted all her waking hours to looking for the Selkie, only to turn up empty handed every time. Four of the last ten times she tried to Travel to her, Chéile found herself in the middle of the ocean and she nearly drowned before she managed to transport herself, dripping wet and gasping for air, back to Na Réaltaí.
Since then, every time she Traveled while focusing on Muirgan, she did so holding her breath, fear pounding in her heart. It had been terrifying to land in the ocean so far from shore that nothing was visible in any direction. Once, she had landed close to a school of large tuna and had seen the dorsal fins of a frenzy containing at least a dozen sharks, feeding and thrashing in the water. As Chéile had watched the water grow red around her, she panicked and almost didn’t get away in time. A large shark was moving toward her as she managed to Travel out.
It left her with trepidation about trying to find Muirgan, but there was no one else for her to ask about the child Erish had mentioned moments before she died. She wished she hadn’t been so hasty in killing the woman. She had lusted after her revenge and the woman’s declaration of a child had infuriated Chéile. Her temper made her lose the best opportunity she had of finishing this little chapter in Ársa’s life. Now, she needed to know more and Muirgan was the only link she had left. Finding the woman was quickly becoming compulsive. She’d never be able to rest until she got the answer she sought from Muirgan. She continued to scry her and Travel to her, but each trip caused a fair amount of anxiety.
Today was no different. She held her breath and Traveled and was amazed when she came solid on a beach that was both sandy and rocky. A large cluster of rocks stood in the sandy expanse of beach before a cliff that rose at a sheer bank to a grassy knoll up above. It was a small, isolated, private cove. There was no access to it by land. Without a boat or the ability to Travel, no mortal or landbased creature could make it here or away.
She glanced out to sea and saw the waves rolling in. The tide was growing deeper, coming farther inland with each lap of the white-crested waves. She climbed to the top of the rock formation and peered out to sea. Nothing. She let her breath out in a deep sigh and sat down. She shook her head and felt a strong wave of despair wash over her as the waves lapped at the base of the rocks.
She stared at the water and tried to decide what she wanted to do next. She was about to give up and go home when she noticed a brown spot bobbing in the water several hundred yards away from the shore. She stared at it. Is it an ugly, fat seal? She thought it was looking at her, moving toward her.
What is that? Should I wait or run?
After a while, it moved near enough for her to see it was a seal, but it was still out far too deep for her to reach it unless she wanted to tread the treacherous water. She had developed a fear of the sea after landing in the middle of it so many times.
The creature bobbled up and down on the waves a while, staring at her. Chéile rose from the rocks and walked into the surf no more than knee deep, but the waves smacked her soundly across her distended abdomen when they came rushing in. She stood in the water and stared back at the creature.
After several minutes, the creature dove under the water and disappeared. Chéile looked around in consternation; even looking into the water to see if it swam about her legs. There was nothing.
About to give up hope, she noted that the water sprayed oddly as a wave crashed into her. Just out of reach, Muirgan surfaced in the waves. She was naked and holding something in her hand slightly under the surface, but Chéile couldn’t make it out.
“Why are you here?” Muirgan asked.
“I need some information,” Chéile said.
“About what? I don’t know anything that I haven’t already told you about Erish,” she said.
“I want to know about Ársa’s child with that horrid Fae creature,” Chéile said, ignoring Muirgan’s protestation.
“Why don’t you ask Erish?” Muirgan said. The woman kept her head shoulders above the waves, balancing herself with one hand while the other stayed beneath the surface. She expertly kept herself at a safe distance from Chéile.
“I cannot,” Chéile said. “I have dispensed with Erish a month ago. I cannot ask her anything.”
Muirgan shook her head. “I can’t help you with this,” she said.
“You can tell me about this child.”
“I know little about the child,” Muirgan said.
“If you know a little, you know more than I do. Tell me what you can.”
“What do you know?” Muirgan asked cautiously.
“Only that Erish said, right before she, uh, died, that I should look for Ársa’s child, his Fae child.”
Muirgan’s mouth turned down at the corners but she didn’t volunteer anything.
“I want you to tell me about this child.”
“I…” Muirgan said thoughtfully, as if deciding what to tell Chéile. “I know that the child is about a year old.” Muirgan looked pointedly at Chéile’s round, protruding belly and raised her chin a bit. “That would, by birth, make him Ársa’s heir, would it not?”
“Him?” Chéile said. “The child is a boy?”
“That’s what the rumor said, but I have no firsthand knowledge, you know.”
Rumor was far more than Chéile had access to. “So, Ársa has a boy with a Fae,” she said. “What Fae?”
Muirgan laughed. “The only Fae he had rela
tions with, my lady. Who do you think it was?”
“Where can I find this child? If Erish wasn’t already dead I would torture her to death for the information.”
“I do not know and rumor has it that the child is being reared by someone else, because it is the Lilitu tradition to either kill all their male children or put them in the stable. Someone didn’t want to follow that rule, and so he was hidden somewhere out in the world.”
Chéile stared at Muirgan for a long, silent moment. “Thank you, Muirgan,” she said at last. “Your loyalty will be rewarded. Have you had your revenge on the human who held you captive yet?”
Muirgan stared at her in surprise. “I never told you about that,” she said.
“You didn’t have to,” Chéile said. “You smell of the sea and fish, but you don’t turn my stomach as humans do. Humans have a stench about them that is almost unbearable. And you wanted to travel at will to a specific place, so I assumed you had a connection to it that wasn’t entirely happy. It makes sense that you’d want to travel for revenge. It makes sense that a human had held you prisoner.”
Muirgan looked at her calmly without answering. After a long silence, she said, with a small shake of her head. “I have not done so, yet.”
“Why not?”
“I suppose I am nurturing my revenge.”
“Well,” Chéile said, “don’t nurture it too long. Humans don’t live forever, and you might miss your opportunity if you wait too long.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Muirgan said.
“Is that the bead I gave you to travel to your place?” Chéile asked, pointing at the charm hanging from a golden chain around Muirgan’s neck.
“Yes,” Muirgan said, reaching up to feel the weight of the charm in her hand.
Chéile reached into her pocket and withdrew another charm dangling on another necklace. This golden charm was shaped like a small lobster. It dangled from her long delicate fingers and swung at the end of the chain. “I made this for you,” she said, smiling at Muirgan. “Come get it.”
Muirgan looked at her suspiciously and hesitated several moments before she slowly moved forward into the shallower water. She snatched the dangling charm from Chéile’s fingers and quickly retreated to the deeper waves.
“When he looks at you, he won’t see you as you. He’ll see another woman, which may make it easier for you to get close to him,” Chéile said.
“It will make me appear as someone else?”
“Yes,” Chéile said with a nod. “Just in case. We wouldn’t want him killing you on sight. But remember, it will only work one time. So make the best of your opportunities.”
“Thank you, Chéile,” Muirgan said softly.
“Make sure you strike while you have the opportunity. Don’t take too long. He may be more lustful for revenge than you credit him.”
Muirgan nodded. “Sorry I wasn’t more help regarding the child. Is there anything else you need?”
“No,” Chéile said. “You’ve been most helpful. Thank you.”
“Don’t look for me anymore,” Muirgan said. “It may not be safe. I have been watched by Oseyan’s guard lately.” She was surprised at the fluidity of the lie and impressed with herself for thinking of it. “I don’t know if you’re on friendly terms with them or not, but the next time you land in the middle of the ocean the frenzy of sharks who greet you might be faster than you think.” Muirgan dove beneath the surface and the water churned around her for a few seconds.
The next sight Chéile saw was a flat brown flipper cleaving the water and a dark shape flew through the waves and out to sea.
1 week later Phaedrus 30, 763 Blackpool, Catormad Corath, Lerien
Muirgan Muirgan hid among the surf and watched the fishermen going out to sea in the early hours of the morning. She wanted to get the feel of the place from the shadows so she could formulate her plan. Knowing she only had one chance made her cautious. She didn’t want to fail in this quest.
Muirgan watched Yann board his brother’s boat and prepare to sail out for a day of fishing. He looked rougher than she had expected. He seemed tired and shaky as she watched him work at the docks alongside his brother and their small crew. He seemed a bit frail to her, and she wondered what caused the change in him in a single year. Her bitterness rose in her chest as if it were fresh.
She left the safety of her ocean water, removed her skin, and walked up the trail toward Yann’s house. The area was mostly deserted this time of day and there was little chance of being seen, naked as she was. She walked, unselfconsciously, past one of Yann’s neighbor’s houses—a woman who had her wash on the line. Looking around carefully, and seeing no one about, she slipped between the rows of clothing and selected a blouse and skirt, and pulled them off the line. She dressed and walked down to the dock area where the boats would unload their catch when they returned. She stashed the clothing in a safe place and returned to the water.
She felt safer in the water and had no desire to be among the humans of Blackpool. She worried that someone would recognize her and alert Yann before she got a chance to prepare her attack. She didn’t want anyone warning him of her presence and making him suspicious.
After the boat set sail, she followed it at a discreet distance and watched. After fishing all day, they turned and went back to the harbor and only then did she return to shore. She watched the nets and assessed their catch. She was relieved to see what she wanted in their nets. She worried she would have to stay near Blackpool for quite some time. Things were moving in her favor and she was hopeful she could do the deed and leave before anyone was the wiser. She patiently waited while the fishermen culled the good from the bad.
Muirgan was well acquainted with Yann, his brother and their crew’s tendency to be lazy. Today, it was likely they would be paying less attention than normal. They’d likely be in a hurry because of the storm looming on the horizon. She knew they would toss their unwanted catch to the shore for the waves to wash out. They cared little whether the animals lived or died. If they weren’t useful to them, they had no concern for their lives.
She moved near enough to the boat to hear bits of conversation. She felt no shame in listening in.
“Yann,” one man said, “are you coming to the tavern with us or are you going to fetch your brat from Old Lady Prisky?”
“I need to go get him,” Yann said with a weary tone as if picking up the child was undeserved punishment.
The other man gave a guttural sound and said, “Aw, come on, Yann, you can tell the old bitch you were late because of the storm. Look, it’s going to start a downpour any minute.”
Yann looked up at the sky. He licked his lips, and said, “I guess I could do with a glass or two of whiskey. I need a bottle to take home anyway. Aye, I’ll go with you.”
“Then let’s finish this shit up and hit the bar,” the man said.
As they unloaded their day’s catch, Muirgan left the water and removed her skin. She slipped quickly into the clothes she had hidden earlier and waited for her chance.
One of the men aboard the fishing vessel tossed a large puffer fish to the ground at the water’s edge. She had to get that fish or she couldn’t carry out her plans. If the tide came in before she got her chance, the fish would be free, but so would Yann.
She looked around for a rag or any cast off she could use to hold on to the fish so she didn’t have to risk touching it with her bare hands. She spotted a filthy scrap of someone’s shirt, probably lost during a drunken bar brawl, and stifled a grimace of distaste as she wrapped it around her hand. Choosing her moment, Muirgan darted out to grab the fish while the men were busy.
She took it and ran as quickly as she could, hoping no one would see her. She almost made it to Yann’s shack when a woman from down the street saw her. The woman had a small child by the hand, more dragging him than leading him as she hurried down the path.
“Hello, Muirgan,” she said, looking the girl over good, “you’re back, I see.”
>
“Perhaps,” Muirgan said.
“It’s been a long time, ain’t it?” the woman asked.
“Yes, Mrs. Prisky, it has been.”
“Over a year?”
“Something like that, ma’am,” Muirgan said, shifting from foot to foot. She glanced at the child holding Mrs. Prisky’s hand and saw he looked a lot like Yann. Perhaps a little more attractive, a little softer, but he was clearly Yann’s child. She felt her heart harden with resent as she saw his webbed fingers as he pointed to a seagull crying overhead. “Mama?” the child said, pointing at the bird.
“What are you here for?” Mrs. Prisky asked with a suspicious tone.
“I came to see Yann,” Muirgan said politely.
“You have ideas about coming back here?”
“I thought maybe Yann and I could work it out.”
The woman brayed with laughter. “He’s pined away for you all these months, even after he saw you with another man. And yes, missy, he told us all what you was doing with that fellow on that rock. He’s a fool if he takes your whoring ass back.”
“I don’t see how it’s any of your concern.”
“You don’t? I’m helping to raise the child you abandoned, missy,” the woman said with a bitter tone. She dragged the child behind her as if hoping to hide him from Muirgan’s gaze.
Muirgan stared at her, not quite knowing what to say.
“Don’t be getting any ideas that you’re going to come in and ruin that child’s life again. Why, he cried for you for months, he did. You was cruel to leave a babe like that for someone else to raise. No decent woman would abandon her child like you did.”
“Mrs. Prisky, I’m sorry you feel so insulted by the choices Yann and I made in our private lives, but if you’ll excuse me, I have something to do.”
“Sure, sure,” Mrs. Prisky said, but she didn’t move out of the path to let her pass.
Muirgan stared at her for a few moments before she stepped around her and hurried on to Yann’s shack. She wished she had used Chéile’s shape-changing charm sooner, but she didn’t know how long its effects would last and she didn’t want to take any chances.
“You may be waiting a long time,” Mrs. Prisky shouted behind her. “Yann likes to be well into his cups before he comes home.”