by Alex Temples
I nodded. “I understand. No one can live in limbo for long.”
Tristan nodded. There was a murmuring of agreement from the other fae.
I turned back to Nia, changing the subject, in the hopes my faux paux would be forgotten.
“So, we don’t know exactly how the ceremony is performed. Is there any way to find this out other than finding someone who has been present for one? A text perhaps?”
Nia shook her head. “It’s an oral tradition. Some things are too dangerous to record. Only those who have been part of a ceremony, or a witness to it, would know the steps we need to take.”
Tristan rubbed his chin and then cleared his throat. “Theres also a chance your mother would have chosen a surrogate.” He said.
I frowned. “A surrogate?”
Tristan nodded and began to explain. “For ceremonies that were not inscribed in stone, often a head keeper would choose one to stand witness to the group’s activities, a recorder of sorts. This person would have been someone very close, someone she trusted implicitly, someone with a good memory who could safeguard their secrets.”
I glanced around the group. “And my mother chose someone like this?”
Siddarth frowned. Neil furrowed his brow. Nia glanced up in contemplation.
I stood silently, waiting for one of them to say something.
“I don’t know.” Nia said finally. “Knowing Rosaina, it is likely she would have chosen a surrogate. She was always thorough in her duties, but I don’t know who it would be. There were only a handful of fae who knew her as Aelwen’s daughter – or for that matter, who knew her at all.” She said, shrugging. “Only Meurig and I knew of her. The queen kept this secret even from Eirian. I’m afraid from the few occasions I interacted with Rosaina, that I don’t know her well enough to guess who she would have appointed as surrogate.”
Silence fell upon the group. We stared at one another, until Nick appeared in the doorway.
“Oh, sorry. I hope I’m not interrupting.” He said, holding up his hands in apology.
All eyes moved to him.
“Everyone is beginning to complain of hunger.” He offered with a sheepish smile.
On that note, the fae dispersed, leaving just me, Tristan and Nick in the kitchen. We would finish the discussion later.
“I sent Ms. Fitzgibbons to the market.” I said apologetically.
Nick laughed. “Well, I’m not Ms. Fitzgibbons, but I believe I can throw together a quick meal if you think she won’t mind.”
I glanced from Tristan to the big German and shrugged. “I don’t think she’d mind.”
Nick nodded with satisfaction.
“I’ll help you with dinner.” Tristan offered. My eyes darted to him in surprise.
“You never told me you could cook.” I accused.
Tristan laughed, his blue eyes sparkling. “You never asked.”
“Humph. Fair enough. Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.”
With that I turned on my heel and made my way towards my room, where I’d locked away the fae texts. Perhaps there was something in them about the ceremony.
Chapter Forty-Five
“Those were the best sausages I’ve ever eaten.” Siddarth announced, sinking back into the sofa with a contented sigh.
Nick beamed with satisfaction as the rest of the group echoed Siddharth’s sentiments.
“They were delicious. Thank you, Nick.” I said, smiling at the big man before I sank into the arm chair across from him.
Esma and Sayumi settled onto the couch next to Siddarth. Tristan took a chair next to Nia. The rest of our little group had pleaded exhaustion and drifted up to their rooms. We sat in a small game room at the back of the house. The fire crackling in the fireplace cast a warm glow over the small seating area.
I stretched my toes closer to the fire. They never seemed to fully warm since we’d arrived in England, and I thought longingly of the wool socks I’d neglected to pack.
“The potatoes were wonderful as well.” Claire added, smiling at Tristan.
“Yes, everything was amazing.” Nia echoed.
“I still can’t believe Tristan can cook.” I said with a laugh.
There were some chuckles in the group and Tristan gave us a look of mock indignation.
“That’ll be the last time I prepare a meal for you lot.” He grumbled, unable to keep the corners of his lips from turning up in satisfaction.
“Your berry crumble…” I moaned, my mind drifting to thoughts of the light, buttery crust and fresh warm berries melting on my tongue.
Tristan flashed a dashing smile.
“Careful, Brin. This will go to his head.” Esma scolded with a small smile.
Our laughter was interrupted by the sound of scratching at the French doors. The Fitzgibbons’ had turned in for the night.
Tristan leapt to his feet, his hand moving to his waist. Realizing he didn’t have his weapon, he murmured a few words under his breath and in an instant, he was holding a ball of blue fire.
Several of the others had done likewise, standing and moving towards the door cautiously. Our movements were in sync with one another’s as we moved towards the glass doors, trying to see out into the darkness at the threat that lay beyond.
With a sigh of relief Nia raised her hand. “It’s alright. It is only Eirian.”
The rest of us relaxed slightly, watching as she moved to unlock the doors.
They swung inwards and we all gaped in surprise as Eirian strolled in, followed by Oren and an older woman with flowing brown hair.
She may have been in her sixties or seventies, though it was hard to tell for sure. Her skin was smooth, with only small crinkles at the corners of her eyes. Streaks of white ran through her dark hair. She had a strong jaw, a wide forehead and high cheekbones. I knew there was something familiar about her, but it wasn’t until I considered her chocolate eyes, flecked with green that I knew who she was.
Chapter Forty-Six
“Brin.”
The woman’s voice was like velvet, deep and smooth.
“Grandma?” My voice was tentative as I took a step towards her.
She nodded and I ran into her open arms. They went around me and I was surrounded by the familiar smell of lilacs. Her arms were strong and sure, possessing a strength unusual for someone her age.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, pulling back to get a better look at her.
She laughed and it was like music to my ears -so familiar and yet so strange to hear after all this time.
“Your brother came and found me.”
She smiled over her shoulder and I finally noticed Oren, standing in front of the open doors.
I raised an eyebrow. “How could you know where to find her?” I asked him.
Oren laughed. “There are a few things about my abilities I have yet to share with you, Brin.”
I frowned.
“Not because I’ve been keeping them a secret, but simply because I’m just discovering them myself.” He added.
I waited, not understanding.
“Precognition.” Nia’s said from behind me.
I glanced back at her in surprise.
“He has visions.” My grandmother clarified.
I frowned deeper. “Is that a normal fae ability?”
She laughed. It was Nia who answered.
“No. It’s not a fae ability, but one we see commonly among mortals.” She said, as she considered Oren with interest. “It is terribly uncommon in men.” She added, examining him as if he were a lab specimen she wanted to dissect.
It was good to see I wasn’t the only one who’d made myself interesting.
I took a steadying breath.
“Come inside, I’ll put on some tea. It sounds like we have quite a bit of chatting to do.”
Hours later, and well into the bottle of Glen Fiddich Oren had brought with him, we sat in stunned silence. The fact that Oren had the ability to see visions was the least interesting thing we’d le
arned that night.
Joyce Yates, my father’s mother, was Rosaina’s surrogate.
We’re roused the sleeping keepers after Joyce arrived. They all sat listening with rapt attention as my grandmother, in her lilting accent, recited the words of the Keeper ceremony, making gestures in the air with her spotted hands.
She made several intricate gestures, her fingers slicing through the air as if she were drawing runes in the sky. A shiver passed through me as a ripple of magic seemed to cross the room.
My eyes went to Tristan and held there for a moment. He looked as astonished as I felt. We both felt the power in her words and gestures. She was mortal, so she could not perform the ceremony to its end, she could only go through the motions, but even in so doing, the rest of us could feel the rightness of it.
Nia and Neil were murmuring softly to one another in the corner. When Joyce finished the final few lines, for the fifth time in a row, Nia stood.
“Thank you, Joyce.”
I stood as well, meeting Nia’s gaze as she glanced to me in question.
I nodded. “I think I have it now.”
My grandmother had patiently performed the ceremony several times in a row until I felt I had it committed to memory. With all of us watching, I was reassured the other keepers would be able to step in if I forgot a crucial word or gesture.
“Let’s do it then.” Neil announced, standing and moving towards the French doors that exited into the back gardens.
“Outside?” I asked.
Claire put a hand on my shoulder. “We draw our power from the earth.” She reminded me. I nodded my acceptance, moving to join the small group already piling out the door after Neil.
I felt like I had in middle school when I’d gotten the lead in the class play. Everyone seemed to have faith I’d pull it off, and here I was, putting on a brave face as I followed them, all the while feeling like I needed to vomit.
Tristan was the last one out the doors. He murmured words of encouragement behind me as he closed them.
“You’ll be okay, Brin. Stop focusing on any other outcome, besides the one in which you succeed brilliantly.” He said.
His voice was a balm to my inner panic.
I nodded silently, meeting his untroubled blue eyes and seeing his confidence.
“Does it ever get easier?”
He tilted his head in question.
“Having so many people rely on you?”
At this he smiled, pressing his lips together briefly before brushing his thumb over my cheek to catch a stray tear. My eyes were watering in the cold.
“No.” He said quietly, and with a matter-of-factness I recognized as truth.
I swallowed and nodded.
I hadn’t expected the answer to be yes. Too many people saw their leaders as somehow more capable, possessing greater strength or ability than they did, an infallibility, and yet, all the great leaders throughout history knew they were just as human as those they led.
Their power came not from some preternatural strength, but from their ability to learn from their mistakes, to rise above conflict, to continue, unyielding, in the face of adversity, refusing to let anything stand in the way of them achieving their objectives.
Good leaders recognized the strength of believing in themselves, the crippling effects of doubt, and the power to be had when they put their faith in others, trusting them to succeed rather than questioning their dedication.
I breathed deeply, the cold night air flooding into me. I looked once more at Tristan, who stood still, like a statue of a Greek God, against the black canvas of the night sky.
It was dark here. Very dark for someone used to the light pollution of the big city. I swallowed the last of my doubts and held my head high, turning in the direction the others had gone, toward the empty clearing.
We stood in a circle, a loop of seven keepers.
The fae stood a few yards away, along with Oren and my grandmother. They watched from the shelter of a withered dogwood tree. Oren flashed me a smile.
I nodded at him.
My grandmother stood next to him, her face a blanket of calm confidence. She too thought I could do this.
I reached out to either side, feeling Claire and Gloria take my hands.
We were arranged in the order my grandmother had instructed. Claire’s mother and Gloria’s mother had been at my mother’s sides, where their daughters stood now. Then, on each side of them, were Ana and Esma, then Nick and Sayumi.
I stared into the darkness between Nick and Sayumi, across the distant farms, through to the blackness of the night, and I concentrated on remembering the words and gestures I would need to install my keepers.
Under the black sky, stars glittered like diamond above us. We stood barefoot on the frozen ground, a necessity if we wanted to tap into the earth’s power most effectively.
I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath, blowing all the air from my lungs as I would before meditating. I drew my next breath in slowly, savoring the distant smell of wood smoke and the sharp scent of pine.
I opened my ears to the sounds around me. I heard the crunch of leaves as Oren shifted his stance, the call of an owl, wings flapping as she swooped to land on a nearby tree. I heard the breathing of those around me, the faint trickle of water from the nearby creek, and the low buzz on magic buried within the soil beneath me.
My lips parted and I began chanting the words. They flowed from my mouth in ancient edenese with an ease they hadn’t when I’d rehearsed inside the house. My hands tingled and then warmed, and I felt the rush of magic beginning to build, spreading from me to the other keepers. There were a few gasps as they felt it heighten. Suddenly, there was a final flash of warmth as I completed the first incantation and I dropped the hands I was holding. My eyes floated over the group.
A faint light hummed around each person and I smiled with satisfaction. We were united.
I began the second incantation, which involved a series of intricate gestures, and the group followed step by step, each person’s hands moving in unison to mind.
Our feet crunched on the leaves and snow underfoot as we painted fiery runes in the night air, and danced to the silent music of the magic, twisting and turning, bending and coming together in perfect harmony.
As we completed the second incantation, there was a flash, and the halo of light around each keeper turned to fire, burning brighter.
Several gasps came from the group of fae on the sideline and I saw their shock at the force of our power.
A silent smile came to my lips, and along with it a sense of anticipation. I wasn’t done yet. My body hummed with excitement as I began the third and final incantation.
I lifted a hand towards the moon and drew energy from its light, working it like a ball in my hands until it was round and full. Then, with a smooth gesture, I flung the ball of energy out in an arc, hitting every single one of my keepers with a beam of light.
They gasped as it hit them, not in pain, but with joy. A euphoria spread over us, and I quickly moved to finish the final lines. I scrawled the sealing runes in the air above me. Their green fire illuminated the air around us as I pulled my sword from my belt and passed it to Claire.
She met my eyes and nodded before slashing open my wrist. The blade cut into me with a satisfying sharpness. It was beyond pain. It was almost pleasure. My blood spilled to the ground, hot crimson liquid melting the snow away.
I took the sword back from Claire and she held her wrist out. I made a small cut across it. She cried out as her blood dripped to the ground to join mine. We passed the sword around, each Keeper making the cut across one another’s wrist, until the sword made its way back to me and I marked Gloria.
When her blood hit the ground, the fire surrounding us flashed from orange to green and I repeated the final words of the incantation. Six voices joined mine, and we repeated our oath in unison.
From one world to the next,
as one being we stand,
read
y to fight,
Justice our only duty.
To earth, to air, to wind and fire.
We are keepers of the elements,
keepers of the earth,
keepers of death,
keepers of birth.
Pledge we our bodies,
spirits and minds,
For the weakest,
we fight for the light,
For our spirits divine.
For freedom dies in darkness
The goddess our master,
to none other will we answer.
Only united, can we defeat the darkness.
I finished with a string of Edenese and upon saying the final words, dropped to my knees with exhaustion.
We blazed in a ring of blue fire, connected by threads of magic, united at last.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Two thousand fae soldiers stood guard at Stonehenge. It was the most Eden could spare, while still leaving enough fae to protect the crystal palace.
Tristan commanded them with authority. I watched in awe as they spread out around the gathering of stones, forming an enormous bubble of protection. It was pitch black and there was no sign yet of the dark fae, though I felt them watching us from the darkness.
Nia had led the fae in casting a protective spell that would deter mortals from wandering into the sacred site. I understood from Oren that many modern druids, pagans and other curious mortals journeyed to Stonehenge on the summer and winter solstice to observe the alignment of the stones and perform their various rituals.
“I have the cauldron.” Claire said, patting her shoulder bag.
I nodded. We didn’t know whether it would help having it here, but I figured any bit of fae power we could draw upon was helpful.
“How do you think Evrei holding the Lia Fail is going to impact the ceremony?” Claire asked worriedly.
I shook my head. “I’m not sure, but there is nothing we can do about that. We must stand strong and perform the ceremony as we practiced yesterday.” I said. My voice belied a confidence I didn’t feel.