"Only one?" she said. "That's it? You've come all this way, just because of one tale that was probably a coincidence?"
"Every seventh son of a seventh son in my family is a bard who can bring his tales to life. But I don't know how the power works."
"How did they deal with it?" Rhiwallon asked. "The ones before you? Your father?"
"I never asked. I've never even heard him tell a tale. He stopped because they came true. I think he might have killed his brothers with a tale. That's all I know."
"Had you asked a few questions before you left home, we could have used that information today," Rhiwallon said.
Her words stung. "I don't have any choice now. I have to find her and destroy her. That's what I came here for. It's too late to worry about what I should have done." I hesitated, staring down at my empty bowl. I didn't want to say these next words but I had to. "You should all stay here. It might be dangerous." I corrected myself. "It will be dangerous."
"We will stand with you," Owain said and Rhiwallon nodded. A soft grunt from Bramble indicated her agreement.
"I can't ask that of you." I could have wept tears of gratitude and sorrow as I looked around the table, meeting their eyes: plain, simple Owain, a large man with a heart to match; Rhiwallon who glowered at me from across the table and who even now kept her secrets close; and Bramble who gazed at me with fear in her eyes. Would I live to discover the truth about her? Would I have the opportunity to repay their faith? I swallowed hard. "No, you have come this far with me but I need to go on from here alone."
"Pish," Owain said. "We're going with you."
And that was that. I didn't have the strength to argue further, not today when I must face Ida and could well lose my life.
"Where do we start?" Rhiwallon asked. "How do we find her?"
"I can find her." I was suddenly confident. "If she knows me better than anyone else, then I also know her."
This was what I had forgotten all along: I knew Ida. I had created her. She knew nothing but what I had given her.
As we left the inn and strode down the street, smoke curled up from chimneys to linger in the air. I tasted it on the back of my tongue, sweet and sharp, filling my lungs and nostrils with its pervading presence. A plump orange cat sunning itself on a doorstep glared a challenge at Bramble as we passed but she barely deigned to look at it.
We reached a corner. Ahead, the road looked much the same. To the left, a birch tree, bright with new leaves, sheltered the path, and I knew.
"This way."
I followed the branching path past the birch tree and it felt right. A deep certainty centred in my bones. Soon enough we stopped in front of a cottage. It was prettily presented with whitewashed walls and a thatch roof.
"This is it," I said.
"How do you know?" Rhiwallon asked.
"I just know. I feel it. She's here."
Owain stared at the front door, a furrow between his eyebrows. "What now?"
"We go in," I said. "She already knows we're here."
As we approached the door, it opened, seemingly of its own accord. Bramble stopped, sniffing the air.
"Like I told you," I said. "She knows."
I didn't need to call out, to ask where she was. Unerringly, I led my companions through the front passage, across the kitchen, and down the hallway.
We found her in a sunny back room with serviceable wooden chairs and a long workbench. The room was still and quiet, and despite the chill morning, the hearth was empty. Ida sat on a chair, hands folded in her lap, her gaze fixed on the doorway as we entered. Sunlight danced over her blonde hair and her plain white dress. She was simply waiting. Her eyes met mine and she gave a small smile.
"So," she said. "You come at last."
"You knew I would."
"Of course."
"Do you know why?"
The small smile became dazzling and I understood, briefly, why so many did as she requested.
"You want to destroy me. I know you, Diarmuid. I know your lofty goals of educating the simple man, teaching him compassion, honour and nobility beyond what his poor mind can comprehend. That's why people never understand your tales. Don't you know? They can have no possibility of understanding the concepts you try so hard to instil in them."
Her words cut through me and yet it was a distant hurt. It seemed so long ago that my biggest problem was that nobody liked my tales.
"What about you?" I asked. "Do you understand those concepts? Honour, bravery, loyalty. Surely you know of these from my tales?"
Ida tittered, covering her mouth with a delicate hand. Beside me, Owain gave a small sigh and I stiffened. Could Ida turn him on me? She hadn't looked at him once. Her attention, as far as I could tell, was solely on me. I resisted the urge to step away from Owain. If I could not trust him, then I could trust no one.
Ida's eyes, wide open and summer-sky blue, were fixed on mine and her voice was coy. "What do you hope to achieve with such a question?"
"What do you know of the world?" I asked. "The world is dirty, dark, messy, filled with blood and hopelessness and death and despair. Why would you want to leave my head to live in the world?"
"Oh, dear boy," she gasped, laughing again. "I know so much about the world and it's all thanks to you. Every tale you told, I heard it. Every lesson you tried to teach your hapless audience, I absorbed it. But your mind, although a fascinating place with all of your agonies and tortured thoughts and hopeless dreams, is not nearly as good as being out in the world. You merely told tales. I bring them to life."
Behind me, Rhiwallon hissed. Owain shifted his feet and I felt like a traitor even as I tensed, wondering whether he would attack me. Bramble stood with ears alert, her eyes suspicious.
"You could hear my tales?" I asked.
"Not just your tales, my dear, but your every thought," Ida said.
My mind went numb. I had suspected Ida would remember the conversations we'd had but I never suspected she had been listening in on my thoughts. Could she still do that, even though we were now two separate beings? How could I defeat her if she knew everything I thought? As I stood speechless, Ida turned her attention to my companions.
"Oh, you naughty boy," she said with another tinkling laugh. "You have brought all of these friends into my house and you haven't even introduced them. Let me see, who have we here?"
She turned first to Owain. "Oh my, such a strong man," she said with a simper. "A simple man, honest, hard working. Not much else to you, is there?"
Owain sighed again. I would have glared at him had I dared take my eyes off Ida.
Next Ida fixed her gaze on Rhiwallon. "You are an interesting one. Do they know the truth about you, I wonder? Do they know from what you run? No, I think not. I cannot imagine the boy would harbour one such as you if he knew the truth."
There was no time to wonder what she meant for Ida looked now to Bramble. My heart pounded and in my mind, I whispered no, no, leave her alone.
"Oh." Ida's tone was surprised. "Does he know?"
"Ignore them," I finally managed. "They mean nothing to you."
"Oh but they do." She arched an eyebrow at me. "For they mean something to you, don't they? Who would have thought you would find such a collection of friends. Such an interesting collection."
"They know nothing," I said, trying not to think about how much they meant to me. I willed my mind to be calm, blank, thought-less. "They barely even know why I'm here."
I wilted a little under the direct stare of Ida's cold blue eyes. "And why are you here?" Her voice was steely. "Do you really come to try to destroy me, here in my own house?"
"Is this your house? Or did you charm it away from someone?"
Her chin jutted out and her eyebrows narrowed as she glared at me. My chest began to tighten and in just a few moments I could barely breathe. Choking as I fought to draw in air, I met Ida's gaze and she smiled, a slow, calm smile hinting at secrets only she and I knew.
Sweat trickled down between my
shoulder blades. My feet wouldn't move. I tried to speak, to ask for help, to beg Ida to stop, but nothing came out other than a strangled gasp. I couldn't breathe.
Bramble whined and, somehow, I managed to tear my eyes away from Ida and look down at her. She stared up at me, her gaze showing me her kindness, her goodness and her wisdom. Suddenly I could breathe again. Bramble's doing? I had no way of knowing. I fell to my knees, sucking in deep breaths. Ida continued to stare at me, sending more tendrils of power winding around me. I didn't dare look at her. It seemed she had no power over me unless I met her eyes. Now there was only one thought in my mind. Run. I fled and my companions were right behind me.
Her laugh followed us, trickling like water over stones. As we reached the front door, I heard her voice as clearly as if she stood beside me.
"What a silly boy you are."
The door slammed behind us and I ran. Rhiwallon and Bramble were at my heels but Owain soon lagged behind. I halted beneath an old oak tree whose skeletal limbs stretched up to the sky, waiting for spring's new leaves to cloak them. I was horribly aware of how close we still were to Ida. Could she control us from a distance or did she need to see us for her charms to work? Owain was gasping for breath as he reached us.
I knew I should say something, thank them for going with me, even if we had failed, but there were no words in my head. I was empty, drained. I had nothing left. I had lost and Ida would continue to destroy Crow's Nest, one life at a time.
"What do we do now?" Rhiwallon asked.
"Go home, I suppose." I stared at the houses around us, although I barely saw them. Houses looked the same everywhere we went. Stone or whitewash. Thatched roof. Herb garden. Vegetable patch. Raven sitting on a low stone fence, head cocked quizzically as it watched us. Chimney with a plume of smoke curling up into the blue sky. How could the sky be so blue on a day like this? Didn't it know that I had failed? That countless people would die because I couldn't stop Ida? Despair flooded my limbs, making them too heavy to move. I would stand here until my bones crumbled into dust. I had failed.
"That's it?" Owain asked. "You're done?"
"I tried. What more can I do?"
Bramble glared so fiercely that I had to look away.
"We travelled all this way with you," Rhiwallon said. "We stuck with you through those blasted tunnels and through cold, wet days on the road. We stood with you in her house. Because we believed you were going to stop her. You created something that should have never existed. We believed you when you said you would destroy her. And now you're running away."
"What would you have me do? I tried but you saw what she's like. You felt her magic worming its way into your head and under your skin. She will turn us against each other, twist us to her will. This is what she does, what she has done to the people here. What can I do against that?"
"Seems you could do more than run away," Owain said.
Shame raced through my limbs and coloured my face. "You felt her power. I could tell. It was working on you."
Owain shrugged and his face was open and guileless. "Yeah, I felt it. She wanted to control me. She nearly did."
"What stopped her?"
"You ran away before she fully had me. I followed."
I turned to Rhiwallon. "What did Ida mean when she asked whether we knew the truth? Who are you running from?"
Rhiwallon's face paled a little and she looked away. "That's my business, not yours."
"If Ida knows about it, she can use it against you. I'd say that makes it our business too."
"It's not," she said, fiercely. "You think everything is about you, Diarmuid, but it's not. This has nothing to do with you."
"P'rhaps you should tell us," Owain said. "Diarmuid's right. If she knows, she can use it."
She looked up at him for a long moment but it was Rhiwallon who looked away first.
"You'll judge me," she said. "I don't need that."
"I won't," he said. "You have my word."
There was another long pause before she spoke. "I'm carrying a child. I'm not sure whether the father knows. I don't have any way of contacting him, don't even know his real name. But if I can get far enough away, maybe he won't be able to find me. And he won't ever find out about the baby."
"Why don't you want him to know?" I asked.
Rhiwallon's face was calm and her voice held nothing but determination. "If he knows, he'll take the child. And I won't let him. It's as much mine as it is his. More, even, for he isn't the one who has to carry the babe for nine months."
"Why would he take it?" I asked and was rewarded with a withering glare.
"For a bard, Diarmuid, you really don't know much, do you?"
"What does that have to do with it?"
Before she could respond, Owain answered. "Because he's fey. The father."
Rhiwallon nodded, chin held high.
"So the beast…" I said.
She shrugged. "He might have sent someone, or something, after me. More likely, he's completely forgotten about me and moved on to the next poor girl who swoons at his pretty face and fancies herself in love with him."
"I thought the fey were trying to delay my journey." I felt like an idiot even as I said it.
"Maybe," she said. "Or maybe it was me they wanted all along. It doesn't matter now anyway. We got away, and now we've got your creature to deal with. Once this is all over, I'll keep moving. The further I go, the less likely he is to find me."
"I don't think you can run from the fey," I said. "The tales tell—"
Rhiwallon turned her back on me and walked away. "Thank you, Diarmuid," she said frostily over her shoulder, "but I think your wisdom is probably the last thing I need."
Despite all our days of travelling together, despite the frantic search through the land of the fey, nothing I knew about her was true. I had thought Owain was the one Fiachra warned me about, the one who wouldn't be what they seemed. Then I had thought it was Bramble. Could it be that he had meant Rhiwallon all along?
Owain and I looked at each other in silence, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Bramble leaned into me, her body warm against my leg.
"Did you know?" I murmured to her. "Did you see through her?"
Bramble blinked at me. I leaned down to rub her ears and she gave a little sigh, leaning her head into my hand. At least I had Bramble. Bramble and Owain. These were my true friends right here.
46
Brigit
I HAD GUESSED half of Rhiwallon's secret, but it had never occurred to me that the fey were involved in this too. The men we saw at the inn were clearly human but perhaps the one who had hired them was fey. I had never believed in coincidence or chance. If Rhiwallon was running from someone, and we happened across men searching for someone, the two were connected in some way, even if she wasn't the one they sought.
I wondered now at the time we had spent in the tunnels. Was that an attempt by the fey to capture Rhiwallon or, perhaps, her child? Or did the delay have some other role in Titania's plans? If she had nothing to do with Rhiwallon's abduction, she had given no sign of it but that might be a part of whatever game she played.
Owain seemed unperturbed. The woman he had claimed as his responsibility carried another man's child but his eyes were calm and considering. No doubt he was already making and discarding various plans. He wanted to save her. He needed to.
In my own form, I could have eased the sickness Rhiwallon experienced most mornings and could have helped her deliver the child. Perhaps Mother could do even more, for she had much arcane knowledge. She might know a way to shield Rhiwallon from the fey. My chest tightened and my throat felt thick. I had often wished my abilities would disappear along with Mother's expectations for me, leaving me free to chase adventure and danger. I had wished them away too freely. Here was a woman — a friend, of sorts — who needed the aid I could have given her and I was as powerless as if I had no ability at all.
It seemed strange that the Sight had never shown me Rhiwallon. I
had seen Diarmuid and Owain and myself. I had recognised Ida the first moment I saw her in person. The white hair, the cruel smile. But the visions had never shown me Rhiwallon. I could only wonder why.
The three of us stood in silence for some time. Owain seemed absorbed in his thoughts. Diarmuid's eyes were downcast, mouth wobbling a little, shoulders slumped. He smelled of defeat.
"So…" Owain said at length, after Rhiwallon had stormed off. "What now?"
Diarmuid didn't look at Owain as he shrugged. "Now I go home and admit I failed."
Silence stretched again. I looked between Owain and Diarmuid. I waited and, sure enough, Owain finally found his next words.
"Just like that?"
"Huh?" Still Diarmuid didn't look at him.
"You're giving up?"
Diarmuid hung his head. "I tried. I really did. I thought I could… I don't know, do something. Convince her, persuade her. But she's too strong."
"She'll keep killing people."
"You don't think I know that? What she's doing is my fault. I have to live with that. But I tried. I couldn't stop her. What more could I have done?"
Another long pause.
"Seems to me," Owain said. "Instead of asking what you could have done, maybe you should ask what to do next."
Had I hands instead of paws, I would have applauded. Instead I was struck by an urge to bark long and loud, but I restrained myself. Owain was a fine man and if Rhiwallon couldn't see it, then she didn't deserve him.
"You think I should try again?" Diarmuid asked.
"That or give up," Owain said. "And we've come too far for that."
"But what else can I do? You felt her power. How can I destroy something like that? Talking to her is of no avail. She will never be persuaded to stop."
"Hit her over the head. Like Braden and Drust said. Tie her up. Might be able to talk sense with her then."
I had forgotten Drust. Had his brother, Davin, been somewhere in the house while we were there? Should we have tried to rescue him?
"We need to surprise her," Diarmuid said at length. "She won't expect me to return."
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