by CJ England
The silence was broken by the demon's lusty laugh. “She is a stubborn wench. How many more times will I have to kill her, I wonder?” His scarlet eyes glowed evilly. “Oh ... never. She just killed herself. I guess you do inspire loyalty, High Priest, but the price is so costly."
Danolas glared at Labraic. He felt, rather than saw the company begin to fight again. He heard the weeping and anger in their mind-voices as they charged into their foes, grief bringing them new strength. Evil faerie began to die by the score. Brianna had given the whole company a second chance by giving him needed energy and healing.
"You killed,” he said in a voice as cold as death, “the woman I loved. I will see you not in Hell, but beyond it, where an eternity of agony waits for one such as you."
Labraic frowned. “You talk a good game, witch, but nothing has changed. You are weak and pitiful. Allowing a woman to die in your place. I will kill you now to put you out of your misery."
Forcing his temper behind icy control, Danolas kissed Brianna's cold lips and then gently laid her body on the ground. He carefully hid the Sceptre of Power from the demon's eyes. His lady had died to bring this to him and he would not let her sacrifice go unheeded. He stayed kneeling, keeping his back to his enemy and his eyes on the weapon that had cost Brianna her life.
"Things have changed, Labraic. I will give you one chance to die easy. Then, I will kill you and enjoy doing it."
For the first time, the demon looked uneasy. Perhaps it was the strength that had returned to Danolas’ voice or the way he was holding himself, even half-naked and covered in blood. Its simian face wrinkled into another frown. “You are a fool, Danolas, son of Darius, grandson of Daegal. Your death awaits you. Turn around and face it like a man."
Danolas closed his eyes and prayed for guidance and knowledge. Reaching out, he grasped the Sceptre of Power in his hand. Magick burst through him in a wild rush of song and beauty. Understanding exploded in a wave of radiance that filled his body to the bursting. All he needed to know was in that music. He could, and would, complete the quest. For her ... and for himself. Brianna had not died in vain. He opened his eyes and saw the crystal on the Sceptre glowing with sapphire light. His eyes shone in response. It had been ordained. The Sceptre of Power had found its way back to the one man who could wield its power.
Coming to his feet, Danolas slowly turned and met Labraic's eyes.
The demon went very still and its crimson eyes widened. It backed away, fear filling its face. “Impossible,” it stuttered, the mist at its feet rolling in agitation. You couldn't! How?"
Danolas lifted the Sceptre and the brilliant light shone brighter. Once again, movement in the chamber halted as all turned to watch. “It was found by one who had a purer heart than I. Her love and sacrifice gave me back my strength. She used the last of her life force to make sure your plans would never come to fruition.” His eyes glowed with the intensity of his feelings as his voice rang out in the large room.
"I loved her! Too late I realized just how much. She died so others could live and I will not rest until you and all your followers are twisting in a cold eternity. I am my father's son and his father's before him. I have the power, and I know the words of magick.” The witch stood tall, a warrior now, painted in the blood of the innocent. He pointed the Sceptre at the cringing demon and the crystal burned an icy blue. “Go not to Hell, Labraic ... but even farther ... past the very touch of a merciful God. Die, you bastard. This is for Darius, for Daegal, for Jorad and...” His voice broke. “For Brianna."
"Shia tia Cylys, shia ia mael,
Koli si tandros mae,
Pai shar o shor,
Rai maesi eil vyraes si pae."
Labraic threw up his arms to ward off the blow, but it wasn't enough. The rainbow burst of power ripped into him with the fury of a thousand tornados, lifting, and tearing him apart as if he was no more than a cut out paper doll for Halloween. Red smoke billowed and curled, as his screams of agony shattered the night. His hideous face disintegrated in an explosion of misery as he was cast beyond the stars to a place remembered only in nightmares. It was awful ... it was beautiful, and ... it was perfectly just and right.
Danolas’ eyes glowed with power as he next turned the Sceptre on the other evil ones. They scattered like leaves before the wind, but the azure light cut them down one at a time. Kira, the Chosen and the protectors all stood in awe as every evil creature in the chamber died within seconds. They looked back at Danolas, who stood over Brianna's body, his arms stretched wide. His pale hair whipped around his head as if it were alive, his once beautiful face was torn and scarred, covered in blood and tears. His entire body shone with power and as the Sceptre did its work, they too could feel the healing power as the joining and linkings melded with the witch's new found supernatural strength. No one was sure later, how long they stood bathed in the healing light, but then, suddenly, it was over.
Gallegar pulled Kira into his arms. “A Ghra ... Are you all right?"
She nodded, her eyes on Danolas as he bent to cradle Brianna's dead form. “I am well, Mo Chridhe ... But I am afraid not all of us are."
"She can't be dead.” Lucas clenched his fists and stomped over, the others following close behind. “Damn it, Danolas. There has to be something we can do. The Sceptre healed us ... why can't it heal her?"
"Because,” Koran whispered, tears in his eyes. “She is already gone."
Danolas barely heard them, so deep was his grief. A gentle touch on the shoulder opened his eyes and he turned to meet Kira's compassionate golden eyes.
"I am so sorry, my seer."
He turned back to stare at Brianna's cold face. “It's my fault. I should have guessed it was me they were after. She shouldn't have even been here."
"No one knew who you truly were, my friend,” Gallegar stated. By virtue of the mind link, Kira and the Chosen had heard the whole story as Labraic related it. “And even if we had, Brianna would still have been a part of it. Her destiny was to find the Sceptre."
"No!” The witch's eyes glowed angrily. “I was the one who saw the trail. We just thought it was Brianna because it was her ancestor who hid the weapon. But she had to be touching me to see it. That damn connection between us—"
"That damn connection just saved all our lives,” Patrick broke in. “Don't steal away what she did here because you feel guilty. She found the Sceptre. She saved each one of us. I wish ... I wish it could have turned out differently, but she sacrificed herself so y'all could kill Labraic. I don't know if that is destiny, but it took a hell of a lot of courage."
"And love, Danolas,” Kira added. “She loved you very much."
Danolas squeezed his eyes closed and buried his face in Brianna's wet throat. “I loved her ... and I never even told her. How can I live with myself? She gave me everything and I gave her nothing."
"That's not true.” Benjamin crowded in and swallowed hard. His red eyes were wet. “You gave her what she wanted at the end. You killed the demon and avenged your families."
"Grieve as you must,” Gallegar murmured. “But respect her name and the sacrifice she made. Brianna Muldoon found the Sceptre as she set out to do. She gave her life so you could fulfill your destiny and in doing so, fulfilled hers. We may weep over what has happened, but we should honor her for doing it.
The High Priest only shook his head. “Honor and respect mean nothing. They cannot wrap their arms around me. They won't look at me as if I am the only man in the world. They will not fill the hole in my soul. And they will never ... ever let me hold them tightly and whisper my love as I should have done with her from the very day she walked into my life."
* * * *
"We've got to do something,” Lucas growled as he paced around the library back at Dunguaire Castle. “It's been almost two weeks and still he sits there. He doesn't sleep and he barely eats. I don't think he's said more than three words since we got back. I'm worried about him."
"As are we all,” Gallegar agreed. He pulled Kira into his lap w
here she snuggled against him. Their need to touch each other had only gotten stronger since Brianna's untimely death. It was a comfort in a world filled with pain and confusion.
"What can we do?” Patrick worried aloud. “He's just not getting any better and we'll have to leave for home, soon."
Benjamin rubbed his eyes. “He won't come back with us. He won't leave the castle."
"You mean, he will not leave Brianna,” Koran corrected sadly. “He has not moved from her side since we left that horrible cave a fortnight ago."
Brianna's death had shocked them all, but Danolas was inconsolable. His grief and self-loathing were palatable. He would only sit next to her, her cold hand in his as he stared at her still and quiet face. He would allow no one to touch her, no one to take his place. His vigil had all the markings of a penance set down by one who never expected to be forgiven.
"He grieves.” Kira's soft voice trembled and her mate held her tighter. “Not only for what happened, but for what could have been."
"Shit.” Lucas kicked bad-temperedly at a chair. “It's the could haves that kill you."
"They didn't have a chance to work through their differences.” The vampire put his chin on Kira's head and closed his eyes, breathing in her sweet scent. “They were meant to be together, but their own stubbornness drove them apart. He blames himself for that now."
"He's going to kill himself, if he isn't careful,” Patrick growled. “He's wasting away a little more each day."
"I think, perhaps, that is what he wants."
They all stared at Koran. His statement was unexpected ... and unwelcome.
"No fuckin’ way,” snarled Lucas. “We've already lost Irish, but I'll be damned if we lose Danolas, too!"
"His grief overwhelms him,” the faerie said softly. “And worse yet, he feels tremendous guilt over how he treated Brianna. Grief will heal in time. It becomes memories that, if allowed, can give us comfort. But guilt...” Koran shook his head. “Guilt can eat away at you until there is nothing left. It can numb the mind and destroy the soul. That is what is happening to Danolas now. He is wasting away ... body and soul."
"Losing his First Acolyte in such a way is also difficult to stomach. To have a betrayer among us for so long...” Gallegar's sensuous lips tightened. “But none of us knew any different. Danolas can't blame himself."
"I do not believe he is even thinking about Jorad, yet,” Kira whispered. “He is so caught up in losing Brianna, nothing else registers."
"Shouldn't we ... I mean...” Benjamin hesitated. “I mean ... shouldn't we have a funeral or something? A memorial service for both of them?"
"Good idea,” Patrick agreed. “If there isn't a body, maybe he can focus on something else."
"There will always be a body,” Koran said surprisingly. Again, they all stared at him. He smiled sadly. “Immortal deaths are infrequent, but they do happen. But when we die it is different from other beings. Our bodies don't slough away. They continue to look very much the way they did when we died. A true immortal such as Brianna will be placed in a chamber and lay in state for the rest of eternity."
"I don't get it.” Lucas’ pale brows drew together. “If she's dead ... she's dead."
"Immortals do not pass through the Gates as mortals do. Neither do they disappear. They go between ... beyond the veils that separate this world from the next. There is nothing really there, only empty space and eternity stretching before them. No friends, family or challenges.” His stark amber eyes met theirs. “An immortal will find no peace in death, only illusions and the monotony of perpetual tomorrows, completely alone. Perhaps, it is why we fight so hard to live, because the thought of that kind of death terrifies us all."
There was a long silence before Gallegar sighed. “Danolas feels only his pain. If he is not careful, he will pass beyond the veil as well. But he won't find Brianna or salvation, only more grief and sorrow."
"We must help him.” Kira's golden eyes filled with tears. “But how?"
* * * *
The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the fireplace mantelpiece. It was dark, the brightness coming in from outside barely penetrating the drawn curtains. He didn't want the light. It had no place here in this tomb of sorrow.
Danolas sat, as he had for the last thirteen days, by the side of his bed. His battered face faced forward, his heartbroken eyes intent on the woman who lay so still before him. He was numb with grief and a fury that had turned inwards to rip at his heart with greedy claws.
He'd brought her here, to his bed, where they'd loved with such passion and need. Aebh and the others had tried to take her from him, but he refused, his eyes wild with misery and remorse. He'd pushed them away, out of his chamber. She was his. Under his protection and care, even in death.
He was the one who stripped off her wet, filthy clothes. Who bathed her naked body, removing the stench of the demon and the blood he wasn't sure was his ... or hers. He dried her with soft warm towels and then covered her beautiful body with potions, so her skin would stay forever soft and supple. Danolas found her favorite scent and used it lavishly, filling his nostrils with the smell of the sea, fresh air and Brianna.
He'd wept then, holding her naked body against him as he rocked back and forth in grief. She was gone. Forever. Out of his life, and the knowledge was too much for him to bear. He cursed himself a thousand times over for being such a fool and pushing her away, when he knew now, her love was the most valuable gift he'd ever been given.
It took him two days to dress her for eternity. Danolas brushed her auburn hair until it shone, and then styled it as he did his own, with two small braids on each side of the forehead sweeping back to mingle with the other flame rich hair. No makeup was needed. Brianna's natural beauty was all he wanted to see.
He cried again, when he dressed her in the T-shirt he himself bought for her. It all seemed like a huge joke to him now as he smoothed the material to read, I can multi-task (talk and piss you off at the same time), but it was so perfectly Brianna. Over the top of the blue T-shirt, he dressed her in one of her beautiful soft robes. This, too, was his Brianna. A mixture of old and new, of earthy delights and elegance. Now, as he stared down at her, he couldn't remember why he'd fought so hard to keep from loving her.
Fighting hadn't done any good in the end. He'd fallen for her. In fact, he was certain he'd loved her the day they met at the mating ceremony. No other woman had ever gotten under his skin as she had. She'd infuriated him, irritated him and intrigued him, and at the same time, she'd opened her heart to him with all the sweetness of her spirit. His soulmate had been standing before him and he'd turned his back on her. He had never told her he loved her, even as she lay dying in his arms. For that, he would never forgive himself.
The last thing he did was to put the Sceptre of Power in her hands. It was symbolic and he knew it would have to be removed, but in his mind, the weapon belonged to her as much as it did to him. She had found it ... he had used it. Their destinies were intertwined, forever.
And then he sat at her side in utter silence, holding her hand and staring at her beloved face. Nothing mattered. The world went on around him and he didn't care. Finally, after a week, Kira and Aebh spelled their way into his bedroom. The women forced him to go and shower by telling him he was fouling the air Brianna lay in. He was in and out in a matter of minutes, his haggard face pale with grief, his eyes blank and glassy.
Aebh had clucked like a mother hen over his many wounds. His back and chest were covered in deep cuts, and they were healing, slowly but surely. But no longer was Danolas a ‘little Adonis'. The slashes made by demon talons on his face were deep and they hadn't been attended to in time. Forever, he would carry the scars of his torture; a deep slash from earlobe to jaw, and a second, thinner one on the other cheek, from the point of his cheekbone to the side of his mouth. He didn't care. They were unimportant. It was the scars on his heart that would never truly heal.
Eventually, he'd tired of their
fussing and kicked them out again. He'd returned to his chair, his mind turned inward in despair and painful longing. He didn't sleep; he cared nothing for the delicious tidbits brought to him by his worried brothers. All he wanted was to be left alone in his misery.
It was at midnight on the fourteenth day that She came to him. Danolas felt the presence, but he did not lift his gaze from Brianna's face. “You are too late,” he said hoarsely, his voice rusty from disuse. “She is dead. I should have listened to you. You told me to look for answers in those I didn't understand or accept, but I didn't listen."
The Power moved over Danolas gently, and he felt the comforting touch of her essence surround him. “I am sorry, High Priest."
"Why?” It was all he could ask. “Why did she have to die?"
"It was her time."
"No.” He shook his head, and pressed Brianna's cold hand to his lips. “I don't believe that. Our destinies are by choice. She could have been saved."
"Yes,” the Power whispered. “She could have. And you would have died. That was the choice before her. This was the choice she made."
Tears rolled down Danolas’ scarred cheeks. “She loved me. And she died because of it."
"She chose this path because she loved you, yes. But the choice was more. She knew you were the one to stop the demon, Danolas. Only you could do that. So she sacrificed herself not just for you, but for the thousands of others who would have also died."
He shook his head. “It doesn't matter. She shouldn't have had to make that sacrifice. What kind of leader am I to let her die in my stead?"
The Power chuckled richly. “Do you think you could have stopped her?"
"Yes!” he shouted, wanting to throw something. Then, just as quickly, his temper died. “No. Brianna always had a mind of her own.” He rubbed his tired eyes. “But I would have given my life for her."
"She knows."
Danolas flinched. “Does she? Why? I never told her how I felt. Never explained what she meant to me. I was a coward."
"Is that why you sit here? Do you examine your cowardice?"