Marked by Destiny

by Lisa Cardiff

  “I don’t know.”

  He studied her for a minute then nodded, mostly to himself. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

  The fear hovering beneath the surface of her blank façade was unmistakable. “What can you tell me? What do you know?” she said in a controlled voice.

  Chapter 14

  Uncertainty flickered across Avery’s face, and then hope.

  “I will tell you as much as I can,” Kalen said, “but I need you to trust me enough to go with me when the time comes. I’m taking you to the only place you’ll be safe from the Foundation.”

  “I don’t understand. Where would you take me?”

  “Like I said, I will take you to meet your father. That’s as much as I can say right now.”

  “Is this actually my father’s house?”

  “Yes. Dierdre lived here with him for a year after you were born.”

  “Dierdre never told me I was born in Ireland.”

  “No?” Kalen scrutinized her.

  “I guess she never really told me anything. I knew my father was Irish, but Dierdre and my grandmother were never forthcoming with any specifics. I didn’t know where they met or when he left.”

  “He didn’t leave. Your mother did.”

  “Yes, you’re right. Dierdre said as much before she died,” she commented, almost absently. “Is the entire Foundation after me or just Thomas Flannigan?”

  “Don’t be fooled. The entire Foundation is looking for you, not just Flannigan.”

  “What makes me so special?”

  He half smiled, but the look wasn’t overly friendly. “Don’t you have any ideas or theories of your own?”

  Avery opened her mouth but nothing came out. Instead, she shook her head from side to side. When it looked as if Kalen would ignore her inquiries yet again, she found her voice though it wasn’t much louder than a whisper. “Please, Kalen. Tell me what is going on. Tell me something, even if it’s not everything.”

  “Humor me and share your suspicions. That way, I’ll have a better framework to explain this to you.” He ran his hand down the side of Avery’s head then casually twirled a piece of her hair around one of his fingers.

  So many crazy theories had crossed through her mind during her life that she didn’t know where to begin. He focused his eyes on Avery and she once again felt connected to him.

  Talk to me.

  She heard Kalen’s voice invading her mind again. Instead of feeling the immediate need to shut down and close the walls around her mind, she relaxed, letting him in while her mind wandered through her memories. She recalled Dierdre’s rants about how she was different or strange and how she tried to hide her differences to blend in so Dierdre would accept her. She remembered her fears that Dierdre couldn’t love her, her longing to find her father, and her sadness of not feeling any bond with Dierdre.

  Avery exhaled and looked at Kalen to see if he was becoming inpatient with her private thoughts. Instead of looking impatient, she sensed a flood of understanding and empathy flowing into her. His voice floated through her mind.

  What else?

  In response to his silent request, Avery went deeper into her memory. A long buried memory surfaced of a game she used to play in the park or at the grocery store as a child. She called the game truth seeker. She remembered listening to people having conversations and focusing on them until she no longer heard their voices. Instead she felt or sensed the nature of the person’s true thoughts. Occasionally, she would shock the person by blurting them out, but that stopped when Dierdre found out. Avery snuck a sideways glance at Kalen, seeking reassurance.

  Kalen sat staring at her with a half-formed smile. Just when she felt as though she had imagined their mental connection, he spoke. “Thanks for letting me in and sharing with me. All of that helps.”

  Stunned she hadn’t imagined her conversation with Kalen, she closed her mind again. Kalen grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “Don’t go back into your shell, Avery. We can talk about that later, but it is not much different than the game you played as a child. Just continue to let me in and this conversation will be easy.”

  Taking a deep breath, she let her shoulders relax, and her internal walls fell again. Despite her confusion about their connection, Avery admitted—if only to herself—she was relieved she finally shared her fears with someone who understood her. She had attempted to open up to her grandmother a few times, but her grandmother always dismissed Avery’s fears as nonsense. While her grandmother probably wanted to set her mind at rest, her instant denials left Avery even more convinced she wasn’t normal.

  “It’s your turn. What does all this mean and how does this make me different? Can you tell me something, anything?” A knot constricted in her throat in anticipation of finally getting some answers; answers to questions everyone else glossed over or dismissed.

  Kalen leaned against the sofa, his expression bland as he looked at the ceiling. Groaning, he directed his attention back on Avery. “I’ll try to explain a few things, but you have to promise you won’t run again and you’ll come with me when I tell you it’s time.”

  Avery tried to stay calm, but the tension building in her was unbearable. She felt compelled to agree to anything he asked because the answers to her questions were finally within reach. “I agree, but I’ll be free to leave if I want to, right?” Her voice had a breathless quality that exposed her agitation.

  “No. It’s too dangerous—”

  “What?” she interrupted. “I’m leaving. Answers aren’t worth this,” she said bitterly while pushing herself away from him and off the sofa.

  “You’re probably right, but it is a little late to change things. Twenty-five years too late.”

  “I can still leave and go back to my old life.”

  “Be realistic,” Kalen said. “You know your old life at the Foundation doesn’t exist anymore. The Foundation isn’t going to let you sail off into the sunset, and Cian won’t let you take the risk associated with trying unless he knows you’ll be safe.”

  “So Cian, my father, will let me go if he thinks it’s safe?”

  Kalen paused, looking resigned. “I can’t speak for your father,” he said and then his voice softened. “But I do know he cares about you and he wants to make this right. You’d regret not taking this opportunity to meet him and hear his point of view. Do you trust me?”

  Avery scrutinized Kalen, tilting her head to the side as she considered what she should to do.

  Kalen held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t realize he would never give her the choice to leave and neither would Cian, or the Queen for that matter. Her liquid green eyes seemed to lose focus, as if her mind were far away. She looked so young now that her face was wiped clean of makeup and any lingering dirt from the previous day. Her long hair, now damp from her recent shower, just started to curl at the ends as it dried.

  She bit her lower lip lightly as she thought about her options. “Can I?” She said.

  So absorbed in observing her, it took a few moments before he understood what she asked. He should tell her the truth: she should run like hell from him and the Foundation and bury herself so deep in some long forgotten third-world city so no one could find her, or at least not for a couple years. He wasn’t sure if he trusted the Queen or Aerin anymore. But he knew if she ran, he would go after her and bring her back against her will anyway, so lying was his only choice. If she ran, she was as good as dead, whether it was at the hands of the Foundation or someone doing the Court’s bidding.

  “I think I’ve proven you can trust me,” Kalen said, aiming his disarming smile in her direction.

  “I agree. Share what you can.”

  Her sudden agreement triggered suspicions she was hiding something. He searched her mind again, but didn’t find anything incriminating.

  “There are two kinds of beings that inhabit Ireland or this world,” he confided, looking uncomfortable. “There are humans and Faeries, or the Tuatha Dé
Danann. A long time ago, the Tuatha Dé controlled Ireland but humans invaded with iron weapons and the Fae were defenseless and weakened to the point where they couldn’t summon the power of the Four Treasures. Iron is one of the only things that can kill the Fae. It poisons their blood, suppresses their magic and slows their responses. The Faeries were defeated, and eventually retreated to…” Kalen hesitated, thinking of an effective way to communicate the story. “They retreated to another dimension within the Earth. Because the Tuatha Dé were defeated, they no longer could use the Four Treasures.”

  Avery let out a harsh laugh. “Are you serious? This is your big disclosure, a bunch of Irish Folklore? Can I rescind my agreement to go with you?”

  “You’re the one asking for answers. Have you changed your mind? I’m happy to drag you to see your father with or without giving you any information. It would be a lot easier for me if you stopped asking questions until we get there and then you’d be his problem.”

  “No,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I haven’t changed my mind. I want answers. I want to hear what you have to say.”

  He nodded then grabbed her hand, forcing her to sit next to him on the sofa again. “Like I said, there are Four Treasures. They were gifts to the Faeries by the goddess Danu. The Four Treasures are all that remains of the lost civilization of Atlantis. They are the hold considerable power, beyond anything you could imagine. After they were defeated, the Tuatha Dé couldn’t harness the power of the Four Treasures anymore. Useless to both tribes, they were hidden by the Fae and protected by a spell that can only be broken by the Guardian.”

  “Based on an ancient prophecy by the goddess Danu, the Tuatha Dé realized only someone with the bloodline of both the Fae and the mortals had the potential to access the power of the Four Treasures. The Foundation opposed any intermingling of the races, thinking it tainted their bloodline. So, the Foundation waged a bloody campaign aimed at eliminating all of the human and faerie offspring, or half-breeds as they are called.” He looked away from her. His profile was shadowed. He didn’t want her to see the bleakness in his eyes as he stared out the front window of the house. Even though the silence stretched uncomfortably between them, he was glad that Avery didn’t interrupt his thoughts. He would continue when he was ready.

  Finally, his voice returned, but his tone changed. It was no longer open and forthcoming; it was distant, almost cold. “The Foundation killed and tortured those humans with Fae blood under the guise of doing God’s work. The half-breeds who were previously celebrated for their supernatural powers were branded as witches, having an unnatural pact with the devil. Allegations of demonic possession, spectral appearances, or some other sinister plot were made, resulting in a quick trial and death of the accused. After witnessing the devastation caused by having offspring of mixed blood, the Faerie Court decreed no further procreation between the two tribes could occur upon penalty of exile to the Unseelie Court.”

  Avery cleared her throat. “There really are two Courts?”

  Kalen smiled condescendingly. She obviously chose that particular question because it seemed like the safest question at the moment. “Yes, that is true. The Unseelie Court is comprised of the dark, malevolent, and vengeful members of the Fae race, still bitter about their defeat to the humans. The Seelie Court is viewed as their opposite, although the lines and roles are sometimes blurred.”

  Avery blinked. “So how does this story affect me? It sounds as if there aren’t any remaining half-breeds, so why is the Foundation interested in me?” She said, a bland smile of polite interest on her face.

  “You want me to spell it out?”

  “Of course. Wasn’t that the deal?” she snapped, letting her mask of politeness fade.

  “True enough. When there weren’t any more half-breeds to torture and kill, the Foundation invested their time and energy into research, and the current research arm of the Foundation was born. The only way to defeat your enemies is to know them better than they know themselves. To their chagrin, they discovered that half-breeds were valuable. If they controlled the half-breeds, they might be able to harness the power of the Four Treasures. With the power of the Four Treasures they could destroy the Tuatha Dé for good, leaving only the mortals to inherit the power of the Four Treasures and create a new world order.”

  “But there aren’t any half-breeds, so the Foundation’s plan to control them is irrelevant.”

  “And that is where you are wrong. Some escaped the witch-hunts and lived long lives and had children. Breeding with humans further diluted their Fae blood, but they still have some limited abilities. The Foundation mercilessly recruited these individuals into their organization, and while they couldn’t find or use the Four Treasures, they had an uncanny ability to find and kill the almost immortal Fae. Unlike purebred humans, humans with Fae blood can be trained to sense and find Faeries and, of course, iron can kill us. The Fae population dwindled, so the Seelie Court decided the only way to fight back was to create more half-breeds with the hope that these new half-breeds could maintain the balance of power between the two races. Of course, the Foundation learned of this decision and wanted to exploit the opportunity for its own benefit.”

  Kalen watched a tiny quiver of unease travel the length of Avery’s spine, and being finely tuned into her every movement, he stopped talking.

  “Go ahead and ask me. I think you know where this conversation is going.” His voice wrapped around her, suffocating her with possibilities.

  She shook her head. “This is crazy,” she whispered. “I don’t believe a thing you’re telling me.”

  “Of course, you don’t. You could try using the truth seeking game you so neatly tucked away when you were a child, or you can live in the dark. It’s your choice.” He raised his shoulders in an unconcerned shrug. He got up and started to walk away, knowing from instincts honed over hundreds of years she wouldn’t let him leave until she heard the truth.

  “But how?” she asked, biting her lower lip.

  “The usual way I would imagine.”

  “Stop it!” she shouted, her voice raw with fear and uncertainty. “Don’t play games with me. Just say it, damn you. Just say it!”

  He nodded in acceptance of her demand. “As you wish. Your father, Cian, was recruited by the Seelie Court to carry out this noble mission of creating a half-breed. Dierdre was selected as the… let’s call her the sacrificial host because she was from the bloodline that defeated the Fae as required to fulfill the ancient prophecy. You, Avery, are the result of all their machinations. Is that explanation clear enough for you to understand the players and what your role is?” He hated saying this to her. Reality could be hard and cold, and he didn’t like being its waiter, but she pushed, and he delivered.

  Avery sat in silence, digesting the truth of Kalen’s cruel words, and then shot Kalen an uncomfortable look. “Is that why you were with me last night? Am I part of some new genetic engineering mission or experiment?” She picked at the frayed threads on the bottom of her sweater, afraid of his answer, but not entirely sure what the correct answer to her question would be. She felt him watching, but she refused to look up, choosing instead to keep her eyes on threads of her sweater unraveling inch by inch as she twisted them around her finger.

  He looked away and swore under his breath. “No, it wasn’t part of some genetic engineering project,” he said curtly to avoid elaborating on what happened between them. ”Faeries can’t sire children as easily as humans. That’s why there are less and less of us.”

  Avery let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when he answered. At first she was bewildered why it mattered, but when he answered, she realized she didn’t want to be used like Dierdre and wind up holding Dierdre’s torch of bitterness throughout her life. Based on his short answer, she knew he intended to close the subject of what happened last night. That was fine with her. “I guess that makes me the most powerful chess piece in this game. A Queen,” she said in a cold voic
e. “Based on my potential value to either side, I’m not in as much danger as you led me to believe.”

  “How did you reach that conclusion?”

  “I’m the person both sides want. You both might try to control me, but neither of you will hurt me. I’m too valuable.”

  “You could make that assumption if you like, but just like in chess, the Queen can be sacrificed as a tactical move.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If either side thinks you have been successfully recruited by the other, sacrificing the Queen, or you, would negatively impact the enemy thereby making the sacrifice necessary or even honorable for the unsuccessful side. That is the danger.”

  “That’s fine, but if I refuse to take a side. I’m no longer valuable to either side anymore. Problem solved.”

  “Sorry, it’s not that simple,” he said, almost condescendingly. “By failing to choose a side, you become dispensable. Further, you are an unacceptable risk who could eventually work in your own self-interest, and when viewed in that light, you become a target that must be eliminated by both sides.”

  “So who are you?” she blurted out. “What is your side?”

  “I’m Tuatha Dé,” he said without hesitation.

  “I gathered that. I mean are you Seelie or Unseelie?” She tilted her chin up in defiance.

  He laughed. “Seelie.”

  “If you’re a Faerie, where are your wings?”

  “We don’t have wings,” he said with a derisive snort. “That legend probably originated in the overactive imagination of some human. Maybe he mistook the energy surrounding our bodies for wings or maybe he noticed we could move fast so he assumed we must have wings.”

  “You said that the Faeries are almost immortal. How long have you been alive?”