A Witch's Destiny

by Leigh Ann Edwards

  “No, it is as I have said, because you are in part responsible for my dilemma!”

  “How is that possible?” Tristan questioned further surely knowing he was pushing his luck.

  Alainn angrily waved her hand before her face and chanted in a language unknown to Tristan. He was obviously startled to see all other patrons of the bar stood still as stone and even the music had stopped.

  Alainn glared at the insolent man and spoke her piece. “Tristan O’ Malley, you were foolhardy enough to travel back to my time, and in so doing, you caused my husband to fight an English guard in your stead to save your worthless life. He was sent to the Tower of London for his trouble and would surely have died there had I not taken tawdry undesirable measures to see him freed.”

  She paused only for a moment as she once more placed her hand to her middle in pain, but soon spoke on.

  “Now I carry an evil man’s child, a child made further nefarious because of a cursed dagger that pierced my skin and tainted my blood. You are indebted to my husband, and therefore to me. In my vexation, I simply dwelled upon you and was soon alerted to your whereabouts. I created a portal and it led me to you. Now, you will see this conundrum rectified, Tristan O’ Malley, and see it done by tomorrow’s light, or you will not live to see the next day’s dawn. Mark my words!”

  The man’s face had grown ashen at her words, but he was undoubtedly enthralled by now and soon questioned her. “So you slept with some English guard so he would release your husband from the Tower of London and ended up pregnant?” he asked with interest and a sympathetic gaze.

  “There was no sleep involved, I assure you, but that is a somewhat simplistic and marginally accurate assessment.” She scowled.

  “So, was it a guard or some advisor to the king you were made to sleep… er… to shag?” he continued on, obviously intrigued by her story.

  “What possible relevance could the identity of the damnable man be?”

  He held his hands up before him as he saw her temper had begun to flare. “Calm down, Alainn. I just find it incredibly interesting that’s all. I mean, even now people are interested in the sordid English history with the infamous Henry VIII and his six wives.”

  “Six? Is that truth, three more women suffered his vile company and his volatile countenance?” She quietly mused.

  “So you knew him? You actually got to meet him?”

  Alainn narrowed her eyes and glared at her companion.

  “Holy shit, you knew him alright, as in the biblical way! Feckin’ hell, you are pregnant with Henry VIII’s baby! Can you dare to imagine if you stayed here and had his baby in this century? Wow, that would be something! I’d like to see the face of the guy doing that paternity test or DNA testing.”

  He whistled loudly, and in annoyance she slammed the pint of Guinness down on the table spilling the drink and splashing it on Tristan. He simply wiped it away clearly caught up in her fascinating story, but her eyes blazed.

  “I will speak with you no further on this; find me a physician now as I have requested!”

  “Alainn, look, it is nearly midnight. It isn’t likely I could easily find someone reputable and willing to do this procedure even if it wasn’t this late hour. It’s sorry I am that you are in this situation, but it may take a day or two for me to find a qualified person who will agree to do this without the proper papers for you won’t have any identification. And really… what could another couple of days hurt? If the gods don’t find you first, you might have to come stay with me at my apartment for a couple of days, but it isn’t as though you’re about to give birth any day!”

  Alainn’s enragement had magnified and as she looked down at the table that separated them, it flew through the air and landed against the bar so forcefully it knocked over many stools. It sent several bottles crashing to the floor, yet purposely missed the many people standing there. As she continued to stare at her surroundings, the various mirrors cracked, the lights flickered, and the light fixtures on the ceiling exploded one by one. The bottles lining the bar that hadn’t been hit by the table each burst open leaving liquor and shattered glass everywhere.

  Tristan swallowed hard and narrowed his eyes in unhidden fear, but he did not move from his seat across from her. She slowly rose and he couldn’t help but notice the dark blood stains upon her gown. She grasped his hand tightly, and, wisely, he did not attempt to pull it away. Knowing he possessed magical abilities, she placed his hand to her belly and his eyes were soon consumed in terror.

  “Tell me what you sense, Tristan O’Malley. Tell me you believe I should carry this child even for a day or two more!”

  “What the hell; it can’t be the seed of a man who produced such evil?”

  “Aye, it was a man, but a man notably filled with much darkness. The cursed blade I suffered swiftly consumed the child and filled it with unprecedented evil. I will not see this evil come to pass, or be brought forth into this world. The abomination could not be rooted from my womb by any methods known in my century or by way of my magic even with the assistance of Danhoul and the Celtic goddess, Aine! So, now, Tristan O’ Malley you will see me unbridled from this evil by morning’s light or I swear on my life, you will not draw breath by tomorrow’s nightfall!”

  “Okay, okay… I’ll see what I can do!” Tristan said as he began backing away from Alainn.

  “And I will remain here awaiting word on your progress!” she whispered and she knew he noticed the anguished expression on her face.

  “You look like you are in a lot of pain. Maybe you’re already having a miscarriage and then you won’t have to worry about having an abortion?”

  “No, a demon assists the unborn child in issuing pain to me for he is aware I am attempting to end his life!”

  “A demon? Bloody feckin’ hell. You have a demon after you as well? Sure without bad luck, you’d have no luck at all!”

  “Do you face all adversity with humor, you damnable imbecile?”

  “Aye, I have been accused of joking at the most inappropriate times. I apologize. It’s just what I do when I don’t know what else to do.”

  She bent over in obvious torment and he spoke again.

  “The child can actually make you feel pain even though he is not even large enough to be showing in your belly?”

  “Aye!” Alainn nodded and he surely noticed her own face was consumed in fear and dread.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can!” Tristan crossed himself, then clambered over the bench he sat upon and stepping over broken glass and puddles of liquid, raced out the front door of the pub without another word or another look in her direction.

  *

  Alainn held time at a standstill and while she was concentrating on accomplishing that feat, she tried to clear her mind of her many tumultuous thoughts. She was not surprised to see the figure of her great-grandmother appear before her. Soon afterward Lugh and Ardal appeared with Danhoul being carried on Ardal’s shoulder.

  “Is Danhoul unwell?” she simply questioned rather than addressing any of the entities.

  “No he is being held in an unconscious state to alleviate the pain from being distanced from you!” Lugh accused.

  “How did you find me?”

  “It was not a deed easily accomplished, young witch!” Ardal admitted.

  “I assure all of you, I shall hastily return to my own century straightaway when this nefarious child no longer exists. I only resorted to this drastic measure of venturing to this time for I felt it was the only course of action left to me. In truth, I would never choose to leave my time for I would never desire to be far-distanced from Killian.”

  “He is much concerned about you!” Aine spoke for the first time since she had appeared.

  “You saw Killian?” Alainn’s grief increased markedly at hearing this.

  “Aye, we did not inform him of any of the circumstances surrounding your unusual disappearance, but he is filled with trepidation and gravely alarmed you would choose to journey some
where we could not follow.”

  “Well obviously you were able to follow, for here you all are!” she sarcastically responded in hope of covering her own uneasiness, but Aine noticed the tears in her eyes. “And why have you come?” Alainn softly asked.

  “We will offer our assistance, Granddaughter. But we must take you back to your own time before the crescent moon rises high within the southern sky. For the moon phases often open and close the portals and even you, with your ability to create portals, may be forced to stay in this time possibly for a fortnight.”

  “But you did not seem capable of assisting me earlier this day,” Alainn accused in a displeased voice.

  “We were interrupted and much detained with battling a demon!” Aine recalled. “Together we will find a way, my kin. But it must happen all in good time.”

  “I will not stand to have this child growing within me for another day!” she adamantly proclaimed.

  “But you must wait until the full moon on the night of the Samhain. Then the gods will gather together to assist you, but only then will our combined strength and abilities and your own powers be strong enough to defeat the demon’s curse.”

  “You believe the demon has cursed me with this ungodly child within me. That is why he will not be destroyed?”

  “Aye, it is the belief of our combined wisdom. The cursed dagger has affected the child and the demon and his master surely control the child within you. When the moon is full, we shall perform the ritual necessary to end your time with child. Only then when you are the strongest and your powers are at their peak can it be done.”

  “How am I to live another fortnight with this evil within me?” she questioned aloud, “And how am I to keep this from Killian for such a lengthy time, sure he must be filled with curiosity and fretfulness even now.”

  None of the deities offered her any solutions to her anxious inquiries.

  When Tristan O’Malley hastened back into the pub, his stunned expression showed he was clearly astonished to see the many Celtic gods standing with Alainn. He noticed his friend, Danhoul who remained unconscious, positioned over Ardal’s shoulder.

  “What the hell is goin’ on here, and what has happened to Danny-Boy?”

  “He is well enough!” Ardal simply offered.

  “I have managed to find someone who will see Alainn and… do what you need done!” Tristan informed all of them, but he stared at Alainn with empathetic eyes.

  “It is not necessary, young Tristan. Alainn will travel back to her own time where the deed will be accomplished by the gods during Samhain and when the moon phase is correct,” the fairy goddess revealed.

  “But if it can be done here tonight, sure it would be for the best!” Alainn pleaded in desperation.

  “Time grows short; we must all go back now before it is too late.” Aine warned.

  Alainn threw a disparaging glance at Tristan, and then felt Aine’s hand on her shoulder and the familiar dizziness and disorientation she’d come to realize accompanied traveling through time.

  Chapter Seven

  Alainn stood outside the inn, her hands shaking nervously and her cheeks wet with tears recently shed. She was waiting for Killian to return. She learned he and Conner had spent the night searching for her. Danhoul had left some time ago to retrieve them and alert them to Alainn’s return. She welcomed the coolness of the brisk night air upon her face, and longed for her her anxiety and fearfulness to abate.

  The Celtic gods and Aine had left her, but not before repeatedly assuring her they would return in half a moon. On the night of the summer solstice, they would band together and assist with the unpleasantness of expelling the ever-darkening child within her. Until then, they had insisted she keep her wits about her and do nothing that would endanger herself again. She yearned to make them understand having this child within her was far graver danger than journeying to the future, but her words would fall upon deaf ears.

  She had yet to come up with a believable account of where she had been during her absence. Killian would be insistent she tell him, but both the thought of telling him any form of truth, and continuing to be dishonest, left her in a maudlin state. She had been incapable of preventing the many tears that slid down her cheeks as she waited for Killian to return, and she was well aware her eyes were red and swollen without having to view her face in a looking glass.

  She heard the thundering of the horses’ hooves before she saw them bursting through the clearing. And by the easily detectable furious expression on both Killian and Danhoul’s faces, she concluded they had been arguing in a fearsome manner.

  Killian pulled his steed to a halt, mere feet before Alainn, and dismounted leaving the reins dangling on the ground. His face was taut with worry, and now with much relief, yet visible anger as well. He glared down at her, seemingly about to speak, but then apparently thought better of it, for he walked past her and headed inside the inn with nary a word.

  Conner was now approaching on horseback as well. He also remained silent, though he appeared relieved to see her. He nodded to Alainn and took Danhoul and Killian’s horses along with his own and headed toward the stable to settle them for the night. Danhoul did not speak, but he stopped beside her and Alainn walked with him into the inn.

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him very little. I said you were back and that you were unharmed, that he should remember that when he felt his temper flarin’.”

  “I’m certain that did nothing to appease his displeasure.”

  He only shook his head, but as Alainn looked at Danhoul with appreciation of his assistance, she only then noticed his bruised and ever-swelling eye.

  “Oh, Danhoul! Killian struck you?”

  “No, it was Conner MacLain.”

  “Conner hit you?” she asked in disbelief.

  “Aye.”

  “But why would Conner wish to cause you harm?”

  “Aye, well, he said he was doin’ me a favor. He stepped in between your husband and me, for he said if he had allowed Killian to deal with me by way of his fist, he doubted I’d be capable of seein’ out of either eye for a day or two, and that you would be less angry with him ‘for maulin’ the young lad’ than if you knew Killian had harmed me, I believe is how he phrased it.”

  Alainn gently placed her hand to Danhoul’s eye with intention of healing him, but he pulled away from her.

  “You’d best leave the wound be, for I doubt Killian would appreciate the fact he not only was cheated out of woundin’ me, but that his wife healed the malady so I wouldn’t be made to suffer the pain.”

  Alainn simply shook her head at the muddled mess her life had become. As they made their way inside the inn, Alainn saw Killian had found a table and was sitting down with a large jug of whiskey and an ample, round goblet. His eyes went to her as soon as she entered the room, but he made no attempt to draw near to her. She breathed a lengthy sigh, summoned what reserve might remain of her courage, and went to her man. She did not sit, but remained standing by his chair.

  “Unless you’re willin’ to be absolutely truthful with me, Alainn, I’ll thank you to leave me be and simply let me become entirely filled with drink!”

  “Killian, ’tis sorry I am that I caused you fretfulness. I needed some time to myself, for I am nearly smothered by either you or Danhoul or both of you at all times. I thought a time alone would restore my ailin’ body and my troubled mind.”

  “The truth, Alainn; I want you to tell me plain what’s on your mind, woman! And while you’re at it you can tell me where you ventured that even the gods and your damnable inadequate druid guardian could not discover your location.”

  “I went to pay a visit to Tristan O’Malley!” she admitted truthfully.

  “To the future you traveled?” His face registered his continued concern.

  “Aye, I thought perhaps inflictin’ pain and heartache on the man might bring me some satisfaction for ’twas his carelessness that saw you in the king’s tower in
London. And if you’d not been there, sure I would never have been hit by the coach or inflicted with the dagger, for we may well have been safe and on our way back to Ireland.”

  The tears flowed down her cheeks and Killian relented. He stood and gently took her in his arms. He held her tightly and cradled her.

  “Do not weep, my Lainna. Somehow we shall get through this calamity for we’ve always managed before.”

  She nodded and she adored the sensation of his powerful chest against her cheek.

  “Tis not like you to seek vengeance in any form. Did you harm Tristan, then, Alainn… the annoyin’ man from the distant future, did you discover any satisfaction in makin’ him fearful?” he asked after several moments.

  “Regretfully, the gods prevented me from doin’ what I had gone to do!”

  “Tis surely just as well, Alainn, for you’re not oft a woman given to violence, and ’tis certain you would have rued your actions if you’d actually harmed the wee imp!”

  He pulled out a chair and they sat at the table together.

  “What news have you of my father, Killian?” She changed the subject for she was becoming increasingly filled with guilt at her continued deception.

  “Aye, well we discovered he was, indeed, held prisoner near here. The man who remembered him best gave me this, for he said it belonged to him.”

  Alainn took from Killian’s large hand a small wooden carving. It was a druid symbol, the triquetra, the same symbol found on Alainn’s own amulet she wore round her neck. When she held the carving in her hands, she was overcome with a perfectly clear vision.

  “We must travel northward, Killian, to the far highlands, for ’tis there we shall find word of my father… and yours!” she added in a whisper.

  Killian’s green eyes grew wide and she noticed they bore a hopeful glint.

  “How can that be? I know you have sensed it before, but how can our fathers be together after all this time has passed? Your father is enlisted as a searcher for the gods, how could it be that my father who has been missing nearly a dozen years could be with him?”