"Thought? No. Hoped? Yes. Kind of. I thought that the fae loved the Gods, at least mostly. But they're a problem now?"
"We did. We do. But all love is complicated. Especially when it comes to Gods—and fate, and salvation. You know the Norse Gods were some of the last to do the whole isolation thing. They stuck around quite a while. Then the Loki incident—oh, the guy's an artist, seriously—exposed the inadequacy of their whole system. That's when they did it...but knew they'd have to come back to finish the job."
"Loki incident?"
"Well, the short version that makes it sound banal: he murdered Light and Beauty and left the blood on Poetry's hands."
"...that makes it sound banal to you?"
"Oh, but it leaves out the perfection. The gods themselves didn't know how to prevent it. They didn't even know how to prove it. All that they knew how to do was to try to wipe that stupid smirk off his face by force, and then they knew that that's all they were good for."
Megan couldn't process it yet. After everything she'd heard about the Gods and the fae, and how hard she'd seen the ljosalfar fighting, could it be true? She certainly didn't trust Robin, but also suspected he'd follow the rules of his own game.
Robin fidgeted with his stitches. “Ooh, but we've been getting sloppy! Gotta catch up!” He smirked at Megan. “Where do you hide a book?”
“In a library.”
“Where do you hide a weapon?”
“...in an armory,” Megan said slowly. “You think I'm right about Gorias.” She looked at what was in Robin's hands when all his fancy knitting was complete. Megan’s mind was still trying to process everything, and suddenly something so normal was taking her aback. “What is that?”
“Definitely not a cabled sweater for the kid,” Robin said, setting the sweater on top of the sleeping Mack. “Well, what do you know? I lied.” He scooped Mack up and walked casually around the wall with him. “You win, fair and square.”
Chapter 9: On the Way
Mack seemed no worse for wear after the experience, having gone right back to playing with Victor as soon as they returned and both were given the counteragent. At Kalea's request, Cassia stood guard over them while they played. Maxwell joined in the game happily, doing most of the chasing, while Jude made every attempt to ride on Victor's back, with mixed results.
“So why did this happen?” Megan's mother asked her. “Why did...” She sighed. “Robin Goodfellow—seriously, I can't believe he's real—take Mack?”
Megan frowned. “I think because that's something that faeries do.”
“Yes, we know,” Kalea Kahale said. “And we've always had to live with this idea that a second-born hybrid is 'valuable.'”
“No,” said Megan. “I mean yes, of course. But I think Robin was worried. And he couldn't just talk about being worried because of...well, it's like street cred, if street cred were ingrained in your blood. He couldn't have a normal conversation any more than faerie royalty can break their word.”
“I still want Han to know about this as soon as we can tell him,” Kalea said.
Megan was thoughtful, then looked at Lani for a moment. “I wasn't going to say anything earlier, but... Kumuhana?”
“Yeah, that's Dad's full name. What about it?”
“Your dad is Kumuhana Kahale, a kahuna of the menehune?”
“Is that actually much more of a mouthful than Megan Bridget O'Reilly, the sidhe Queen of the Unseelie Court?”
“Touché.”
"Your Majesty should have something to eat,” Kerr commented, peering out from the kitchen. "I can cook."
“You sure can, Kerr,” Megan said. “And I'll try to eat it. I will. But I don't know how much appetite I can manage right now.”
“What does this mean for the plan?” Lani asked.
“I don't know,” Megan said.
“Wait,” Ashling said.
“You think we should?” Megan asked.
“No, I mean wait. Right now. Something's...” The pixie frowned and encouraged the Count to take off.
The crow flew closer to the rooftop as Ashling looked out. “What're you doing here?” she called to a growing speck on the horizon.
And there he was, a tiny gray moth-winged figure in torn denim and fur boots.
“A message for Her Highness,” the sprite said, with his infamous combination of wide-eyed breathlessness and smugness.
“Majesty,” Justin and Ashling said in unison.
“Peadar said you were here,” Gilroy said, still chipper. It wasn't a pleasant reminder that they could be tracked as well.
“What is it, Gilroy?” Megan asked. “Talk fast.”
“The Firewall has dropped.”
Megan looked at the sprite in disbelief. "Already?"
"Already," he confirmed.
Lani shook her head, looking out into the yard at Mack, then back to her mother. "No, not so soon."
Justin put a hand on her shoulder, while Kerr left the kitchen to take and squeeze Lani's hand.
Ashling didn't say a word, just glaring at Gilroy as if he was somehow at fault for the news.
“Well, it's not much longer until the Solstice,” the sprite said matter-of-factly, having clearly paused on dramatic purpose. “And it's a kinda well-known fact that that dark and ineffable forces get stronger with the shortening of days. So, yes, the Fomoire are reported on the march. A bit more gradual this time, but maybe they're just waiting to be at the height of their potential current power when they arrive.”
Megan finally managed to process the information, drawing herself up. “Okay. Now get off Mrs. Kahale's property.”
“What should I tell the General you'll be doing? When should he be thinking about security for you at the front lines?”
“I'll get there when I get there, Gilroy.”
"You're sure that's what you want him told?"
"Positive."
“Okay. Bye.”
"Go play with something poisonous," Ashling muttered, as Gilroy flew off. Cassia and the cats joined them not long after, trailed by a very tired-looking Mack and Victor. Kalea glanced at Lani, then Justin, and finally Megan, before she hugged Lani, then lowered her head, going to keep an eye on Mack while he played with his LEGOs so the others could talk.
"So, the General wants you on the front lines," Kerr said, shuffling nervously. "Are we going back?"
Megan gestured for Justin, going on tiptoes to whisper to him. "I don't want to risk anyone listening in. Can you do the sword anti-magic thing a little?"
Justin's hand went to the hilt, then he nodded to her.
Megan looked at the assembled group. "I don't know how far we can trust Robin Goodfellow, but I also don't know how far we can trust General Inwar. If we go back now, I'm not sure we'll ever get another chance. I'm not going back, but I don't want to speak for anyone else."
Justin responded first. "I'm with you, M'Lady. Wherever that path leads."
Lani said "I told you I'd follow you if you came up with a plan. I'll stick with that."
Kerr frowned but squeezed Lani's hand again. "We're with you."
Cassia frowned, crouching to hold her own conference with the cats. She finally looked up. "All right, things just got a lot more real. If you're sure about this, we'd rather take our chances fighting with you."
"Caw."
"The Count wants to know what we're waiting for," Ashling said.
"All right, so that's him, what about you?"
Ashling shook her head. "My support for your insane plan wouldn't go without saying if I said anything. So I'll just be the stoic, supportive type."
Megan nodded, then looked to her mother. "I really need to talk to you before we go."
Her mother was trying to hold back tears, but nodded.
Megan took a deep breath. "We can't go to Gorias." When that got a lot of odd looks, she quickly clarified. "I mean, we can't go there first. We're too easy to track, and the Fomoire will probably be expecting someone to try to get behind the li
nes. The sword helps, but it's not perfect. There's also a thing that was sort of pointed out to me at Murias."
"And that would be?" Lani asked.
"That retreating to hold An Teach Deiridh leaves most of the remaining paths vulnerable. There's nothing stopping the Fomoire from coming to Earth."
"So, are we defending the paths, or going to Gorias, or what?" Cassia asked.
“We've closed as many paths as we can. I'm hoping to think of something for them. But right now, I want to talk about the one I want to use. Ashling, I'm going to want your crazy super-secret set of paths to Iceland.”
“Iceland? Yeah, I can get us there, but...why?”
“To try to convince the Huldufolk I'm earning a favor.”
While Lani and Kerr began packing and Justin and Cassia talked strategy around Ashling's interjections, Megan stepped into another room with her mother.
"Are you sure about all of this, Megan?" Her mother began. "No one else can do this?"
"It's not that no one else can. It's that no one else will if I don't," Megan said, reminded of her father's comments on prophecies, and heroes being the ones who rose to the occasion. "But that's not what I need to talk about."
Sheila looked confused, but nodded. "All right, honey. What can I do?"
"I need to know about you and Dad. I'm worried about Justin. Am I going to burn him out? Or if I'm around here again more, will I hurt you? I couldn't bear that."
"I understand the concern, honey, but is this really the time to think about that, with so much going on?"
"That's exactly part of it, Mom. You're so good at thinking about one thing, and fixing it just right. I can't do that. If I'm going to manage, I need to talk about... and think about things like it's just a given I'm coming back. I need to deal with all the things, so I can focus. But I also need to know if this is something I should worry about too, or wondering will drive me crazy."
"I don't really know how it worked, sweetie, but..."
"I know, I guess maybe just knowing what it was like, and I can see how that compares to me and Justin, maybe. It's something, right?"
"You and Justin are a little different. You know that, right?"
"Well, he knows the truth,” Megan said. “And I'm never going to leave him alone with a baby and a sudden need for a single-parenting-level day-job he wasn't expecting. But ...there were more problems from your and Dad's relationship than that." She didn't want to mention what she did to try to cure the magical burnout. It still made her mother upset, and goodness knew there was enough to be upset about, but Megan was trying to focus on this problem. "I...what was it like? You and Dad? So I'll know...if Justin and I...you know?"
Sheila O' Reilly paused.
"From what you've said, you only ever saw your father Over There. So I don't know if things came across the same as when he's around humans. But 20 years ago, at a party in Seattle...any party in Seattle, really... he could get the full attention of almost anyone in the room. And the thing is...for just that moment, it would look like they had his full attention, too. Like whatever conversation he was having was the most fascinating conversation in the history of ideas. Ric made people feel pretty or cool or whatever they were looking to feel, for that moment. Like he wasn't even trying. And then the conversation's done and what's next? That was Ric. But most people, he didn't keep coming back to talk to them more. And when he does...well, you feel special. And if he wants to jam until 5, then you want to jam until 5. And if he wants to hear some of the stuff you've been working on, you suddenly don't use the 'it's not ready' excuse anymore. It needs to be ready so you can show him. And you end that night with a thousand new ideas and you want to do them all. And you want to wait by the phone until the next time he calls, because you've never quite felt like this before, and it doesn't go away. You know that as you keep going out, as you move in together, as you form the band, as the years go by—it's either supposed to run its course, or at least fade into the kind of love that's left when the infatuation's over. But it doesn't. You're still on the edge of your seat every time he looks your way. It's not over... you're just so tired."
"Wow." Megan swallowed hard. She didn't know what to say. "So...phones were still in specific places back then?"
Her mother chuckled. "Most of them. So...”
“So. Okay. In terms of your being okay. That doesn't happen with you and me? You've always been really, focused on whether I was okay and whether I called on time.”
“That's not any kind of psychomystical hooks, sweetie. That's being your mom. Now, I'm hoping it didn't sound too familiar to you?"
"No. I'll... I'll talk to Justin soon. Maybe on the way."
Sheila bit her lip. "Yeah. On the way."
Megan leaned in and hugged her mom for a long time.
Chapter 10: Unplottable
Megan spent most of the journey to Iceland looking over her shoulder—at least the parts where she could travel with her eyes open. She had relaxed some on concerns about Justin after the talk with her mother. Now her concerns were if they were being followed, or if they were interesting enough, by some definition, to draw attention from Inwar's sprites.
Aside from worries about being forced back to An Teach Deiridh, she had to worry about relations with the Huldufolk being soured by leading the people they called warmongers right to them. The path was, after all, supposed to be a hidden one. She didn't see anyone, but continued to worry right up to the edge of the Huldufolk village.
Tinna Dimmasdottir met them shortly thereafter. Despite a lot of whispering and frowns, and even some outright glares from some of the other folk, Tinna led them to her home, sitting down with Megan at the gaming table.
As Megan sat down, and the others settled around the room, she picked up a pair of dice, rolling 6. "You're back."
Megan took up the oddly shaped dice, rolling 7. "We needed to talk to you about your previous offer."
Tinna rolled 9. "You have a way to stop the war?"
"In a manner of speaking," Megan said, as the dice came up with 6 again.
Tinna didn't say anything. She just raised a brow, and rolled again, coming up with 10.
Megan glanced back to Lani, then Justin, trying not to show her nervousness, pretty sure her answer wouldn't be well received. Justin stood, moving to stand behind her, a hand on her shoulder.
Megan took a breath and looked back to Tinna. "We're going to get Lugh's Spear,” she said. Both dice teetered, leaning towards the near-impossible snake-eyes for a moment, before falling over to add up to 7.
"You want to find a weapon to stop a war? I'm not going to ask how you guard your virtue." Tinna rolled the dice between her fingers, looking at Megan as she did, before finally rolling 8.
Cassia muttered something that Megan was grateful she didn't quite catch, but blushed anyway. She felt Justin's hand tighten on her shoulder, but he otherwise remained stoic. She took a deep breath, and grabbed the dice back. "I could still ride a unicorn," she replied, rolling 9.
Tinna's stern face broke into a hint of a smile, taking the dice back. “How can superiority at war be the answer? Look at your Fomoire. They're of mingled blood with your Gods. Can their great evil really be intrinsic, then, or is it just the result of all that war?” She rolled 7
“At this point,” Megan said. “With what they'll do, does it matter?” She looked at the woman's now-blank face for a moment. “Or is it that you're used to disagreeing with people about what matters? Because even your Gods can't think beyond this war. Why are there 'warmongers' on the good-guy side in a war where everybody dies?” The dice came up 6.
“They want a cleansing,” Tinna said. “Not just to defeat their enemies. To die with them all, and let better gods sort it out.” Another total of 6. “A golden age bought by massive sacrifice.”
“...That's rough.” Megan took the dice back, considering the odd weight and balance, while pondering the idea of their construction, designed to roll very few ones, remembering Tinna's comments abo
ut not tempting fate. “So let's not let the Fomoire start the Fimbulwinter. The spear's a weapon of war, but it can be a weapon of ending a war like this.” She rolled 7.
"So you believe the legends about it making someone unstoppable? Lugh was a God. That can change a great deal." The dice came up 8 for Tinna.
"And we've already seen what the Claiomh Solais can do in evening things up between humans and fae," Lani said.
"Still remember the look on Peadar's stupid face the first time Justin..." Cassia started.
Megan looked back at them with a smile, and Cassia went quiet. Megan turned back to Tinna and shook her head. "What I believe is irrelevant. The Fomoire believe it." She threw the dice, which came up with 12
Tinna let the dice sit, staring at them for long seconds before looking back to Megan. "And you think that will be enough of an advantage in the face of the Fomoire's power to prevent further war?” she asked.
Megan smiled, finding it easier to sound confident with the dice resting at 12. "I've been thinking a lot about my Dad's accounts of the Battle of Mag Tuired. The Fomoire aren't weak to iron or anything else they could name. Their weakness is that they're cowards, but cowards with strong leaders. Balor had an army behind him, and it sounded like most of them were still there—but he died, and the battle was just over. Lugh threatened the MacTuireanns, and they jumped. Sure, the spear is probably a lot more effective if Lugh has it than if I do, but the legend is still that it's supposed to make anyone who wields it unstoppable... and if we can eliminate their leadership, I bet we can use that."
Tinna thought that over, then finally nodded. "Well played, Your Majesty. Name your favor."
Ashling was about to speak, when a black wing came up to block her mouth, leading to a muffled sound around the mouthful of the Count's feathers.
"We thought the Hidden Folk might know something about hiding. We believe the spear is in Gorias, right where the Fomoire are based."
All's Fair (Fair Folk Chronicles Book 4) Page 5