Once Upon A Midnight

by Stephanie Rowe

  Gais went to the goblet and dropped the potion into the brew, stirring it with his finger. Then as Conall turned, he shifted out of the room—still uncertain about being observed, and as ever ultra-cautious.

  * * *

  Conall turned from his sons and closed the door. Tomorrow was a big day. He would be mortal no more…

  And his boys? Was he doing the right thing by taking them to Tir? Their childhood would be prolonged. They would miss out on an entire human century. Was it right to make this decision for them?

  When they reached their majority at twenty-five, his queen would ask them if they wished for immortality, and he wouldn’t want them to decline the offer. He wanted his boys to live as long as he did—but what if they chose to remain mortal? What if he had to watch them die? He couldn’t think of that now. He had to hope otherwise.

  And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flicker of movement in the dim candlelight. However, it was gone so swiftly he did not heed his own instinct, an instinct that told him, had been telling him all along, there was a Fae that meant him ill…

  Conall drank down his nighttime libation and stood still for a moment as an aftertaste lingered on his tongue. It didn’t taste quite right… and then all at once he knew—he just knew. Fate was a fickle flirt.

  He called for James as he rushed to see his boys in their room one last time. He called for Aaibhe in his mind, not sure she could hear him but hoping his Druid power would reach her ears. He hoped she might sense something was wrong and get to him in time, if only so he could touch her one last time. He whispered his suspicion to James as he kneeled with his two sons. He made James give him the promise to keep his suspicions to himself, only to pass it down to his sons. He didn’t want Aaibhe to blame herself, and she would blame herself if she knew a rogue Fae had done this.

  He told his sons that he loved them, and he told them to listen to Aaibhe as he collapsed to the floor and called for her in his mind one last time…

  * * *

  Gaiscioch rejoiced as he watched the large Druid take his last breath. Nothing diminished the pleasure of the moment, not even the fact that he was sure Conall had whispered something to his manservant that he would not like.

  The human interloper was dead! And even if she came now, Aaibhe would not be able to save him from the Danu poison he had so carefully concocted. The human’s soul had already left his body. There would be nothing she could do…

  And Aaibhe came. She heard his call as though it was an echo on the wind, and she shifted to him.

  Gaiscioch froze. She was a queen. Could her power as a queen save Conall after his soul had departed? What if she could save him?

  He paced in his secret dimension even as he heard her wail of agony, and he smiled as he stood there and watched. She could not save him…

  ~ Epilogue ~

  I HAD HEARD HIS call too late. Why hadn’t I set up a mind link between us? Why?

  For that mistake, I will forever suffer.

  What was I thinking? How could he be in trouble? He was human and I knew their hearts often gave out. Had his heart had somehow given out? That was my first thought. How wrong I was. Hindsight is everything.

  I am a Queen. I can see so much and yet so little. I have taken care of my race for so long, and yet, I was short-sighted.

  How stupid of me. I never imagined that foul play had been perpetrated against my Conall. I never imagined any would dare lift a hand against the queen’s consort—how could I?

  I felt my essence leave me that night as I hugged his lifeless body to me. I felt my insides crackle and break. I felt my mind swirl to the edge of madness. And all that was left to me was my intellect, which shouted blasphemies at myself for letting him die.

  One thing only kept me from going completely insane, and that was the sight of his beloved two boys kneeling over their father’s body.

  They needed me, and thus, I picked myself up out of the mire of misery and held them as tightly as I could.

  I took them to myself and told James to care for MacTalbot Castle until I returned. Then I shifted with Conall’s sons to my palace.

  I know those of you who have experienced true love and lost that love to death… I know you understand what I felt, what I feel.

  Those of you who still have your true love, you hear my story and imagine with fear what I went through in those early centuries after my beloved’s death.

  All that saved me was his boys—his boys who became mine. I had my responsibilities to my Realm, to my race, to them.

  I gave Nuad, my chief Tracker, the duty of caring and training Conall’s sons in the art of Druidism so that if they chose to live their human lives one day at MacTalbot Castle, they would have powers untold.

  As it happened, they chose to be mortal and live at MacTalbot when they attained their majority. I visited my young men often and until their deaths. Their children had children and I have watched over the MacTalbots through the centuries. I kept a keen eye on the MacTalbot line, and when that blood-sucking monster Lamia DuLaine threatened Julian MacTalbot, I broke my own rules and interfered with destiny—but that is another story soon to be told. Julian MacTalbot…? When I look at him…he reminds me of Conall.

  For that I am grateful. For my time in love, I am grateful.

  Life for a Fae is eternal and I will eternally love my Conall.

  And now, we have come to a crisis that threatens all the world, humans and ours. Life is dire and our worlds are being attacked. I have seen that I will call on my MacTalbots, for they share the prophecy with a half human, half Daoine Princess. Together they will have to face the terror of oblivion at Gaiscioch’s hands, but I am ahead of myself, for when Lamia came upon Julian I knew nothing of what was about to unfold.

  I knew nothing at first.

  I can only hope that what we have discovered will not have been for naught. I can only hope we are not too late.

  There is a traitor amongst us.

  I know, but he reaches too high. I am a Daoine and a Queen of the Seelie Fae, and as such I am formidable. How can he take me on, but now I know, that is what he intends.

  And I depend on the truth of the prophecy… Spellbound-Legend.

  Enjoy a preview of the first book in the Legend series,

  which tells the story of one of Conall MacTalbot’s descendents:

  Spellbound—Legend

  ~ Prologue ~

  TUATHA Dé DANAAN: The story of the Tuatha Dé is the very foundation of Irish myth and folklore. So much has been written about them. Who are they? They are known by many names, including ‘children of the goddess Danu’. They are the fairy people, also known as the Fae.

  Tiny, winged creatures? No. Prankish? Mischievous? Oh, yeah.

  Most of them are tall, golden-haired, beautiful, and ‘god-like’. Their race is also known as the ‘people of the light’. They are musical, artistic, and magical in every way. Their society existed—exists today—on three levels, each with its own function. The Irish as well as the Scots refer to them simply as the Fae or Sidhe (pronounced shee).

  You will meet them soon enough!

  DRUIDS: The Druids are a secretive sect, and it is believed they are descendents of the Fae’s (Tuatha Dé Danaan’s) early interaction with humans. A Druid priest acted as sorcerer, oracle, or sage in their tightly knit community. The Druid priest/priestess was the mediator between the physical world and the spirit realm. They controlled the knowledge and the laws of the tribe. It was said that now and then a highly gifted Druid Priest/priestess had the power to maneuver storms and even earthquakes. Druid priests were healers, and some could predict the future, but they could not change the course of fate. Fate can be a pain!

  Training as a Druid priest (priestess) was a serious event, and took twenty years! For some…

  Source: Mythology: Myths, Legends and Fantasies, Alice Mills, ed., Global Publishing

  ~ One ~

  MAXIE REIGATE HELD tightly to the wheel of her dark green Musta
ng. Bumper traffic on the LIE made her roll her eyes, and the growl tickling her throat forced its way up and out of her mouth. “That’s it… nothing you can do about it, Max.”

  Her green eyes scanned the interior of her car just in case there was something there to eat. Her stomach rumbled, and she remembered that she had thrown a power bar into the glove compartment the week before when she had parked her car in long term at the airport. It was going to be a couple of hours before she reached her home on Shelter Island, and she needed food.

  Standstill traffic gave her the opportunity to bend and reach for the clasp on her glove compartment. It fell open, and she saw the silver foil. “Yes—you don’t look in good shape, but we’ll give you a try.” Maxie was already tearing open the wrapper and biting into the aged and unsavory food of the moment. “Ah… yuck!” She promptly dumped it on the passenger seat beside her briefcase just as the airwaves outside lit up with a group honk. She screwed up her mouth and watched with interest as a burly man stuck his head out of his car window and cursed the world.

  No one was moving—she wanted to curse the world. Instead she attempted to amuse herself by looking around. Daydreaming took over, and it was with a start that she realized the cars in front of her had gained some measurable distance. She hit the gas to close the gap and, wop, the traffic suddenly came to an abrupt stop, sending her power bar and her father’s briefcase, which had been beside her on the passenger seat, flying to the floor. The briefcase hit like a ton of weights and popped open, spewing papers all over the place.

  Damn! Okay, Maxie, calm yourself. Today was the day she wasn’t going to allow the traffic on the LIE to get to her. She was trouble free, wasn’t she? Oh sure, trouble free and crazy. She was sitting with her family’s ancient journals all over her dirty car floor. Her father would have a fit. A scowl marred her pretty face. She glanced at the traffic as she made an irritated attempt to retrieve her papers and folders. She gave it up and returned to closing yet another gap between her and the parking lot in front of her.

  Had it only been a day ago that she had sat dutifully and listened to her dad repeat the family legend to her for the umpteenth time? Her family legend had hovered over her head all her life, and she was sick of hearing—knowing about it.

  A sigh escaped her and then another. The Reigate Legend—so what, she told herself, it wasn’t as though she were a werewolf or anything. It wasn’t as though she were some kind of sorcerer out to conquer the universe. What she wanted to know was what a story—true or otherwise—that took place in 1814 had to do with her in the here and now. She had to put it aside and keep it from overshadowing her life… if her father would let her do that.

  Druids, Fae, and an evil vampire-type woman? Come on! She had listened to her dad, she had taken the journals he handed her and insisted she read and re-read, and she had promptly put it all out of her head. Growing up with her… er special qualities had been difficult enough. Having her date bring her home because she had blacked out with a vision, and then never getting another call from him again, had been a death-defying experience at sixteen. To have this incident repeated when she was out with a guy she really liked in college had been embarrassing and tortuous. Seeing their wide-eyed, ‘let me get out of here’ expressions had made her slightly gun-shy. A serious relationship after that had been impossible.

  Now, what did her parents want from her? She had just spent a wonderful Christmas week with them in England at their luxurious ancestral home, Reigate Grange. She’d thought she would escape without one sentence about their damnable legend. She was thrilled whenever they were at Reigate. The family was able to enjoy their ancestral home only during the months of December through April and she only during Christmas. The rest of each year, it was registered on the list of historic homes in the tour guide.

  Traffic was moving again, and Maxie tried to think of something else, but her mind wandered back to her father’s voice. He just wouldn’t give it up. He had been so intense when they had been at Heathrow airport. Something in his eyes—and the tone of his voice—had disturbed her. Maxie’s didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want Druids and Fae in her life, and now he was telling her about some impossible vampire-type woman who was going to come after her? What?

  Maxie saw an anguished look come into his eyes when he spoke to her about her immediate future. It hadn’t made sense. Thinking about it now, she was sure he believed that she was going to be in danger. Someone was honking. Others were picking up the frenzy. Drivers were frustrated.

  In truth, she told herself, she had so much to look forward to. She was twenty-one, with university life for the time being behind her. She was an aspiring writer and had sold her first short story to a well-known national magazine. It was one of the things they had celebrated during their holiday week together. The other was her dad’s fiftieth birthday.

  All at once sharp pain shot through her eyes and into her brain. An agonized cry escaped her, and she made an attempt to steer into the right lane. A driver saw that she was trying to get to the shoulder and waved her through. She could barely see through the rocking pain in her head.

  Yes, some people called them premonitions—others clairvoyance. Maxine had never been able to control them. She thought of them as ‘visions’, but they’d never before brought her this level of pain. She had been having them since she was a child too young to understand what they were.

  Usually they came as disjointed images, but now and then they blasted her with reality and she saw entire scenarios. Her mother got by pretending the visions weren’t real. Her father wanted her to work on the skill, hone it, refine it, and make it her own. He believed that one day when she became an adult, she would be in grave danger. He wanted her to expand her abilities so she could protect herself. He had always said her innate skills were a part of who and what she was.

  Pain pulsed through Maxie’s head. This one was different. It was as though her head were splitting in half and she couldn’t focus on the road. She managed to drive her Mustang onto the shoulder, stopped on the tall, dry grass, and shut off the engine. Her head felt like it was exploding!

  Everything around her vanished.

  No traffic, no honking, no cars. Everything was gone as her vision took her to another place. She found the pain subsided as she moved through a gray mass of clouds, and suddenly, as though a curtain had opened, it was clear, and there they were.

  She could see her parents laughing together. They were in a small charter plane, on the last leg of their journey to Africa. Africa because her mom, an animal rights enthusiast, always said it was up to people like her—like her family who could go the extra mile to do just that.

  What is this? Maxie was worried in spite of the fact that they looked pleased and happy. She knew something was off. An uncomfortable fear pinched her brain. She had left them at Heathrow airport and had hurried on to catch her own flight home. Why was she having this vision of them?

  They were crowded close to one another in the small plane. Something was wrong. Her father was holding her mother’s hand. He looked concerned, and then suddenly the plane banked sharply—too sharply—and Maxie could see them lurching to the left of the cabin. She could hear the horrific sound of the spluttering engine. Wrong… this is all wrong. She wanted it to stop, but the scene switched to the cockpit and she felt sick to her stomach. Maxie hugged herself because she saw the pilot’s eyes widen. Maxie’s throat constricted as she watched him playing with the controls. He called on his radio—they were in trouble… going down. In the close quarters of her car Maxie screamed as the plane went into a dive.

  Maxie’s arms extended as she reached for them. No, no, this can’t be happening. The plane was nosing into the jungle. She saw her father holding her mother tightly in his arms, but—he looked directly at her.

  He sees me?

  His thoughts came through to Maxie as clearly as though he were speaking. “Maxie, love… you know who you are. Be who you are and protect yourself. She is
coming.”

  The plane met earth with the sound and effect of a bomb exploding. It crashed into the trees and burst into flames.

  ~ Two ~

  Four months later

  MAXIE HAD WALKED around in a state of devastation. Her parents had been wrenched from her life, and that loss shadowed her. Family and friends surrounded her, however, and she managed to pull herself up and out after those first couple of months.

  Maxie opened the gate, noting that the latch was broken. The stone steps led to the beach below, but she didn’t stop to put on her sneakers yet. She wanted to feel the sand beneath her feet. She had made a decision. She would give her friends a call and tell them she would join them that evening for a night in East Hampton. No more gloom.

  She only hoped she wouldn’t get one of her visions while she was with them. They were used to it. Early on she had explained them away as ‘blackouts.’ They were good friends and had always been there for her. However, lately those visions had taken over her life. She was having them all the time.

  If that weren’t enough, the secrets that had haunted her all her life were demanding attention. Her sleep was constantly bombarded by memories reminding her just who she was, who she was supposed to become. Earlier that morning, the vision had been so real it had made her shake. It was the memory of her father holding her by her shoulders to say, “That’s what you are, Maxie-girl… a Druid priestess from a long line of pure Druids… all of us Reigates—pure Druids.”

  She had pulled a face at him. “Whatever.”

  She had blown him off—her father… and now he was gone. Pure Druid? She grimaced to herself. How does that happen? Someone or something had to have manipulated the fates to accomplish that.

  Maxie hadn’t wanted to be a Druid. Being sixteen had been difficult enough. It had freaked her out. They had told her over and over that she was a Druid priestess, and she told them, “Like come on, and get real… I haven’t even had my first kiss, and now you are telling me I am a bona fide priestess?”