by Amy Sumida
“Well, I'm assuming that you'll at least take the strongest of every group,” Odin said. “And I'm the strongest Witch.”
“Good point,” I agreed. “We'll need you too, Reyne. You have to guide us. So, that's Odin, Reyne, Banning, Torin, Declan, Cerberus, myself, and who else?”
We worked out who the last eight would be; four Witches and four fairies. Then the Griffins shifted, and we climbed onto their muscular, lion backs. I rode Gage, of course. I settled in front of his wings, my legs hanging over his chest, and steadied myself with handfuls of feathers. Gage's massive eagle head swung around to give me a sharp look.
“Sorry.” I let go. “Was that too hard?”
“You were about to pluck me,” Gage said. “Grab the fur at my shoulders instead.”
“Got it.” I scooted back a little and grabbed the loose skin of his lion body.
Then his powerful hindquarters crouched, and Gage launched us into the air. I held on as we shot up along the massive trunks and then wove through the tree canopy. Birds dove out of our way, and small creatures scurried across branches; dashing away from us. Then we burst through the leaf cover and into the open air.
The others Griffins shot out around us, and all of us leveled off. The steady thud of eagle wings became a drumbeat, and the sharp breeze was like a whistle. I lowered my face into the thick feathers around Gage's neck and breathed in the musk of lion mixed with the dry scent of feathers. My heart raced to be so high above the land, but I was part Siren, and my blood was singing to me—telling me that this was where I belonged. I wanted to spread my wings and fly. Unfortunately, I was born without them.
When I was a little girl, I thought that I was cursed. My mother has the most wonderful black wings; a velvet background for her pale beauty. I envied them from the moment I first learned that I was different. She would carry me through the sky, and when she brought me back to earth, I would cry and ask when my wings would grow. She would patiently explain to me that I was special; I had a different type of magic. But my magic kept me isolated on an island. My magic had to be carefully watched and tended, or I might hurt someone I loved. I was bound to the earth despite the power of my song. In the eyes of a little girl, her mother is a goddess; the epitome of womanhood which she strives toward. And I had to accept that I could never be like her.
But now I flew on the back of my lover. Perhaps I could be like her, after all.
“Head towards the Sgàthan Sea,” Reyne pointed toward the left.
The Griffins turned as one and corrected our course toward the glittering strip of the Sgàthan. Sky and sea; there was no better combination for a Siren. I was feeling my heritage come alive. There was only one thing missing; the magic.
I started to sing to Gage. The first song that popped into my mind was “I Believe I Can Fly” by R. Kelly, but then it occurred to me that I may actually end up flying. Probably not something I should try now, but I did tuck that idea away for later. Instead, I sang “First Time” by Lifehouse. It expressed how I felt at that moment perfectly; free and so very loved.
The music was soft when it began; a little lost to the wind. My voice was a murmur with the beginning lines; just a private declaration of love sung into Gage's pert, lion ear. He twitched beneath me and angled his head to nestle against my cheek.
But then the chorus came, and I sat up straight, flung my arms wide, and sang out my love to all of Tír na nÓg. The bond I shared with my men rushed through me, and I felt my joy spread to them. We were in new territory; fostering a love that most people couldn't understand. It was a scary rush into the unknown for us, but it was also exciting. We on a hunt, tracking down people who had taken children and Banning's Blooders, but that didn't mean we couldn't take a moment for ourselves. That bliss—that pure pleasure in being loved completely and loving completely in return—flowed through us and strengthened us. I felt Banning's anxiety over his kidnapped people calm, and he found clarity within our connection—clarity that Torin shared with him; the power of Onyx.
I crooned on, feeling whole on so many levels. My blood, magic, and love were all satisfied. The lyrics gave me confidence. They gave us all confidence; even the others riding beside us. A love this pure and profound; one that would last a lifetime—or several, in our case—was something most people didn't get to experience. The barest touch of it—the proof that it existed—was like seeing the face of God. It was a religious experience that could give hope even in the most dire of circumstances.
The tension that had been filling us seeped away, and the entire party seemed to relax. I felt confidence spread with my song; we would face this threat and conquer it. We would cleanse Primeval and leave a piece of this hope behind when we left. We had a clear purpose and focus now.
The Griffins started to fly faster; their wings pounding along to the rhythm of the song. The music brightened inside us and flared through our spirits to lift them and encourage us. We were heroes flying in to rescue captives, friends uniting to conquer evil, and lovers feeling as if every moment together was like the first time.
Chapter Thirteen
We covered the distance in less than an hour, and soon the sparkling shore of the Sgàthan came into view. A bay scooped in from the sea; lapping at the pristine sand. The nearly blindingly white strip of beach melded into lush grass the color of limes. This meadow flowed up to a deep, honey-toned temple. The temple was made of a nearly translucent material that had been polished to a glass-like shine. It was possibly constructed of a gemstone, but I wasn't sure which one. With its neutral color, the temple should have blended into the background of Primeval, but it was placed in the center of an open field, and its towering spires were hard to miss.
“Set us down there.” Reyne pointed to a break in the trees, a few feet in from the clearing.
The Griffins circled into a landing; coming to rest softly on the forest floor. I climbed off Gage's back and pulled his clothes out of his pack as he shifted back to his human form. I'd been carrying both of our packs, but he was essentially carrying the packs and me, so I wasn't about to complain.
Gage got dressed, shooting a wink at one of the Witches who was trying to subtly check him out. She blushed and quickly looked away. Gage gave me an unabashed grin as he shrugged his pack over his shoulders.
“You wanna go give your fan an autograph?” I teased him.
“I think I gave her enough already.” He smirked.
“Ass.” I shook my head as we headed over to the rest of our group.
“Yes; I believe that's what she was staring at,” he said.
I didn't dignify it with a reply.
Reyne was leading everyone toward a particular tree, and when I got close enough, I saw why. The tree's bark was a dramatically different color than its companions; with a dark gray tint to it. The bark also seemed dry, and in some places, it had cracked. Thick, black sludge dripped from the cracks, pooling among the roots. The ground nearby had darkened, and nothing grew in it; not even a single shoot of grass.
That's not exactly the best description. With the thick canopy of leaves above, there wasn't a lot of grass, to begin with, but other things managed to grow in the low light. Moss was prevalent, as well as vines and hardier shrubs. There was none of that around this tree. No moss clinging to its roots or vines wrapping around its trunk. The tree was dying and infecting the soil around it.
“What the fuck is that?” Rentar asked as he bent closer to the sludge.
“Don't touch it, Brother,” Gage warned.
“No kidding,” Rentar huffed. “I'm not an idiot, Gagerian.”
Gage grimaced as his full name was revealed. Banning and Declan shifted their amused expressions Gage's way, but Torin didn't see the humor. In fact, Torin's only reaction was to bend down beside Rentar and examine the black substance himself. Torin pulled a dagger from his belt and scooped up a small amount of sludge. He stood and brought it over to us.
“It reminds me of the oil humans mine,” Torin held the da
gger out for our inspection.
“But it smells like death.” Gage drew back from it in distaste.
“It sure does,” Cerberus wrinkled his nose. “That's pure decomposition, right there. The tree is putrefying from the inside out.”
“Putrefying?” Reyne's umber bark/skin paled. “What could cause that?”
“I have no idea,” Cerberus said as he started sniffing viciously. “But I'm going to find out.”
The Griffins joined Cerberus and began spreading out through the forest; sniffing out the trail of decomposition. They ranged wide, and we followed after them; all of us treading carefully through the dark soil. I could just make out the temple's clearing up ahead, and the glimmer of the ocean beyond. The Griffins were circling the temple. Reyne was right; this poison bordered the Trinity's temple.
“Why is it called a temple?” Banning asked Reyne. “You don't worship them, do you?”
“It is not a temple to the Trinity, but to Primeval itself,” Reyne explained. “The Trinity represents the denizens of Primeval, and their job is to guard the forest. The magic of the temple helps them do so.”
“The temple has magic?” I asked in surprise.
“It is an extension of Primeval,” Reyne explained. “The solidified blood of the trees form its walls.”
“The solidified...” I murmured as I stared out at the honey-gold temple. “Amber! Do you mean that the temple is made of amber?”
“Yes, that's what the humans call it,” Reyne agreed. “But here, it is the preserved life force of Primeval.”
“What am I missing?” Banning asked. “Amber is a gemstone, right?”
“Not really.” I shook my head. “Amber is petrified sap, not a mineral.”
“Oh, right!” Banning exclaimed. “I saw that in Jurassic Park.”
“Yeah, that stuff.” I chuckled, and then my face fell. “The same stuff that's being poisoned. At least pre-petrification.”
Reyne blinked, then looked from me to the temple. “Primeval preserve us,” he whispered like a prayer.
“I think the time has come for us to preserve Primeval,” Torin said as he stepped past us.
His gaze was on the Griffins; they stood along the edge of the forest staring toward the temple; a nearly complete circle, broken only by the bay.
“I think it's time to pull an Indiana Jones,” I declared.
“And invade the Temple of Doom,” Banning finished.
“Yeah, sure,” Cerberus huffed as he joined us. “But if someone tries to tear my heart out of my chest, I'm bringing the doom to them; you feel me?”
“Buddy, I think you found your next tagline,” Banning said as he smacked Cer's shoulder fondly.
Cerberus smiled widely and announced, “I'm bringing the doom!”
Chapter Fourteen
“There are no walls?” I stood at the edge of the clearing with the rest of our group.
“There's no need for them,” Reyne said. “I told you; they cast wards to keep us out.”
“I don't sense anything,” Gage muttered and then looked at the other Griffins. “Anyone?”
They all shook their heads.
“Because we have lowered our wards,” a woman's voice came from behind us.
We all spun to face the leanan-sidhe who had snuck up on us. Snuck up on Griffins, Witches, Shining One kings, and me. That's impressive.
“Greetings, Ceanag,” I said.
The representative of Spiritual Strength bowed to me. She was a prime example of her kind; willowy-thin—even more so than the sidhe—with pale skin, and eyes the color of fresh blood. Her elegant hands were folded before her calmly, and her stare was equally relaxed, though a bit creepy.
“Welcome to the Amber Temple, Queen of Kyanite,” Ceanag said. “We had hoped that you would pursue your criminal and keep to your own business while you crossed our land, but we see that you were coerced to do otherwise.” She sent a hard look at Reyne.
“You've left us no choice!” Reyne snapped. “You withdraw to the temple and no longer answer our calls. And the poisoned trees lie around this temple. You look guilty of grave evil, Spirit Strength.”
“Looks are often liars,” Ceanag said calmly. “Since you have left us no choice, I have come to welcome you to the temple and show you that we are innocent of the crimes you accuse us of.”
I lifted my brows in surprise, casting a look around our group. Even Reyne looked startled.
“Will you accept the invitation?” She snapped when no one spoke. “It is not often extended.”
“Of course,” I said immediately. “My apologies; you just surprised us.”
“Humph.” Ceanag grimaced and strode through our group. “This way.”
We followed Ceanag across the meadow and up to the Amber Temple. The closer we got, the stronger the pulse of energy coming from it became, until I could practically see the air vibrating. I gaped at the walls of pristine amber—no insects caught in this petrified sap. They were clear but so thick that whatever lay beyond them became blurred into waves of color. Ceanag led us around to the front of the temple, and the clean scent of the sea called to me.
I stopped, torn between the beach and the beauty of the temple. The Sgàthan held a powerful allure for me; a magical ocean free of human pollution. After Declan and I had swum in it, it had become even more special to me. Standing near its opposite shore was almost too much of a temptation. But then there was the Amber Temple.
I turned away from the sea to stare up at the soaring walls. Now that we were closer, I could see the liquid quality to the design. This amber hadn't been pieced together to form the temple but had flowed up from the earth to form the swirling designs of undulating walls and unicorn spires as a liquid before it had hardened. And within that solid sap thrummed the power of Primeval. This wasn't just a temple; it was a direct connection to the heart of the forest.
Golden, double doors were set at ground level with just a couple, rounded steps leading down from them like undulating waves. Ceanag went to the doors and pushed them open. They glided back effortlessly, and we followed her into a glowing hallway. Every piece of the temple was formed of amber, and the sunlight outside filtered through it to create the most glorious light; a warm, honey halo.
Guards were stationed throughout the temple; redcaps, dryads, and leanan-sidhe. They stared straight ahead as we passed them; barely batting an eye at our parade. We walked by enormous rooms paneled in wood, and one in mirrors; all devoid of people. Ceanag took us down every passage on the first floor; stopping occasionally to throw open doors and show us every room. She even took us into the soldier quarters, where off-duty fairies jumped up in surprise at her appearance, and then stood at attention. Frankly, I hadn't expected the Trinity to have such highly trained soldiers.
Ceanag took us down a curving, golden staircase, and into tunnels of amber. Storage rooms full of food, herbs, and assorted supplies ranged out from a central hallway like air bubbles blown out from the main tube. Ceanag remained silent as she showed us each room. Then she took us back upstairs to a grand staircase. She escorted us through every room on every floor, and the only other people we came across were Lesser Fey guards. Finally, we reached the central tower. Ceanag led us up a winding staircase and into a circular room wrapped in windows. Primeval and Sgàthan spread out below us, and, in the distance, the Jewel Kingdoms. It was breathtaking.
But I couldn't concentrate on the view. We were led directly to a circular table in the center of the room, where the other Strengths awaited us. Caorall, the Physical Strength, was a redcap, but he dressed like a royal sidhe. The only article of clothing he had in common with his brethren was the bleeding cap on his head. He glowered at us with his bulky arms crossed over his chest. Red and black splotches mottled his skin like a disease. The black patterns were considered to be the height of beauty among his people; so I'm sure someone thought he was attractive. It just wasn't me.
Beside Caorall sat Eimhir; the dryad representative of Men
tal Strength. She was surprisingly curvy; with full breasts and hips. Her bark/skin was pale brown and smooth, and her hair was a fall of autumn leaves that went well with her golden-brown eyes. She smiled gently at us and waved her hand toward the empty seats at the table.
“I apologize for the shortage of chairs,” Eimhir said. “We don't usually have so many visitors.”
“No problem,” I murmured as I took a seat.
My consorts, Cerberus, Reyne, and Rentar, sat with us. The rest of our group took up positions behind us.
“You have concerns,” Eimhir said as Ceanag sat.
Caorall made a derisive snort.
“Caorall,” Eimhir chided, “we spoke about this.”
“This isn't their business,” Caorall growled.
“I have made it their business,” Reyne said bravely.
“Just so,” Eimhir agreed as she laid a restraining hand on Caorall. “We can offer the savior of our realm a little hospitality and respect. Surely, Queen Elaria deserves that after what she's done for this world.”
The redcap simmered down, and I lifted a brow. So; we knew who was in charge of the Trinity. It wasn't Ceanag, who was sent out to bring us in. Nor was it Caorall, who had just been put in his place. This threesome was run by the dryad. I wasn't surprised that Mental Strength dominated.
“Your people are going missing, and your trees are dying,” I said. “Doesn't this concern you?”
“Of course it concerns us,” Ceanag snarled.
My gaze slid over to her and narrowed.
“We have been investigating,” Eimhir added sweetly. “There have been some recent events that have provided some clarity. This information makes your involvement necessary.”
“What do you mean?” Torin leaned forward to ask. “What information?”
“We believe that the woman you seek is behind the disappearances and the poisoning of Primeval,” Eimhir announced dramatically.
“Eileen?” Torin asked. “She's been too busy plaguing us these past months to have orchestrated anything in Primeval. And why would she?”