Awakenings

Phelan held my gaze for a long moment before he tore his eyes away, focusing on his cousin. “Well,” he said slowly. “Get on with it, then. Finish it.”

He sank down beside me, sitting cross-legged and frowning. Neve’s eyes fluttered shut and she took a pair of breaths before she resumed the tale.

“Ciar went with the other druids while the hunters rode off in another direction. It wasn’t until long after that we knew the full truth of what had happened, but Brighíd knew something was amiss almost immediately. She was the one that convinced the rest to return to camp prematurely—and they returned to find Ciar had vanished. She knew something was wrong, and there were signs of a struggle, and with her brother gone…well. It didn’t take much for her to piece it all together. She convinced Teague to truth-read the treacherous druids and through that, she and Phelan and my brothers learned the depths of their perfidy.”

“Finn was there, too,” Phelan murmured. “Finn actually was the one who figured out that it was the druids. Brighíd knew something was wrong, but Finn knew it was the druids that were responsible.”

I reached for Phelan’s hand, squeezing it tight. He squeezed back, so hard his knuckles went briefly white.

Neve chewed her lip and glanced toward Leinth and Carolyn. Carolyn leaned forward, her eyes huge in her delicate face.

“Then what happened?”

Neve sighed. “The druids were dragged before my father and made to confess what they’d done. To this day, I know my father made a mistake in not ordering their immediate deaths. For once in his life, he showed mercy, and not to anyone who deserved it. I don’t know why—I’m not even sure I want to know why. Knowing why would likely make me think ill of him, and I think poorly enough of my father.”

“He freed them?” Surprise was heavy in Leinth’s voice and she looked askance at Neve. “What kind of fool was he?”

“Brighíd asked the same thing,” Phelan said. “In front of everyone, she told him he was a fool, that those men deserved death for what they’d done. Then she left. She was going to find CIar, and nothing was going to stop her from doing it—no matter who tried, she wouldn’t be stopped. She vowed then and there that she’d save her brother and eventually, she did.”

Awkward silence reigned over our little group as they all stared at me. My chest was tight, heart giving an uncomfortable squeeze, but I knew that what I’d said was true—more true than any of them could ever know.

Maybe that’s why it still hurts, a thousand and more years after their bodies are dead so their souls could eventually be reborn as us.

“Well, aren’t you all looking damned cheerful right about now?”

I jerked at the sound of Phelan’s voice, twisting to look at him. He fell back a step as he met my gaze, blinking rapidly.

“Leannán, what were you talking about just now?”

“It’s nothing, Phelan,” Neve said. “It’s all right.”

“No it’s not,” he said, his voice flat. “Don’t lie to me and say it is. I know that look in her eye. What were you talking about?”

I closed my eyes, trying not to sigh. Carolyn answered this time.

“Neve was telling us a story. A true story.”

I could tell that Phelan’s expression had clouded over without looking at him. It was in his voice, in the sudden darkening of his tone from light and airy to heavy, as if sudden foreknowledge weighed it down. “What story? Neve?”

She stayed silent for so long I thought she might not answer. Then, finally: “They wanted to know an old story. I was telling them about Ciar.”

Phelan sucked in a rasping breath. I opened my eyes and found him staring at me. I met his gaze and he winced but didn’t look away. His hands flexed, fingers curling into fists.

“How much have you told them?” he asked in a whisper.

“I’d gotten to the part where he was tricked by those damn druids,” Neve said, her voice so cold it sent shivers skittering down my spine. I closed my eyes again.

They loved him, too. Don’t forget that. They gave a damn, too.

Then as now, they love fiercely—and so I do. Gods help me, so do I.

I closed my eyes. For a moment, I was almost there, back in that time, back in Brighíd’s skin as she learned that her brother had been betrayed by men he dared to call friend. I knew the feel of the wooden haft of her boar-spear in her hands, solid and smooth, as she marched toward the druids, held by Seamus, Phelan, and Teague—the sons and nephew of their Otherlander king, as livid as she at the betrayal of her brother.

My lips formed the words before I could stop myself. “Who are you and what’s become of my brother?”

Carolyn looked at me, startled. Neve took a deep breath. “Marin,” she began. I shuddered and opened my eyes.

“Sorry,” I muttered, then swallowed hard. “I don’t—I don’t know why that happened.”

“I do,” Neve said, reaching for my hand. She squeezed my fingers hard. “It brings everything to the surface. The story.”

All I could do was nod. She was right, of course.

Then again, in some ways, Brighíd was never that far from the surface, as much as it pained me to admit it.

Where does her strength end and mine begin, I wonder?

I wondered, but I didn’t want to know the answer.

Neve took a shaky breath. “The druids did perform a ritual that day while the rest were out hunting, an ancient, forbidden rite that called upon a god of the hunt. Ciar didn’t know what was happening until it was too late.

“He didn’t realize what they’d done until the god was possessing his body that he’d been tricked and all of a sudden everyone and everything he loved was at risk.”

“A god possessed him?” Carolyn asked, blinking rapidly.

Leinth grimaced. “I’ve heard this part of the tale,” she said, her voice soft. “He wrought havoc on the world. There was a price on his head. The Wild Hunt was the only way to contain him.”

I shuddered and swallowed hard. “No,” I said, my voice suddenly hoarse. “That’s what they wanted you to believe. There was another way. She was getting through before the Hunt took him. She was getting through and then he was stolen from her by the Wild Hunt.” My gaze flicked up and met Leinth’s. “You were all lucky she didn’t realize how many had betrayed her then. You’re lucky she didn’t burn the world.”

“While the riders gathered for the hunt, Ciar was approached by one of his brother druids, who told him that they were going to be holding a ceremony at an old ritual site not far from where the hunt was encamped. Being young as he was, Ciar jumped at the chance to play a role—any role—in the ceremony they’d planned.” Neve’s eyes fluttered shut. “He was so trusting back then, before it happened. He never quite…he lost that wonderful innocence afterward. Nothing was the same.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” I whispered. “They tricked him, betrayed him, all because he was naïve and innocent enough to trust them. I—she—his sister hated those druids for what they did, not just for the role they played in his possession, but for stripping that away from him. He never looked at the world the same way after that. It was so hard for him to trust again, even to trust the people who loved him the most.” My voice caught, throat tightening. It was as if Brighíd’s emotions were flooding into me with the words, words that bubbled up from some deep chasm of my soul, the soul I shared with a long-dead chieftain of the Imbolg.

Neve reached over and grasped my hand, squeezing tight. I looked away, swallowing hard.

“It hurt them all so much, Neve,” I said, my voice strangled. “You know that, right?”

“I do,” she said softly. “I do, Marin. That part I saw—that part I watched. I tried to help, but…” Her voice trailed away and the distance returned to her eyes. “He never really let me, no matter how much I wanted to, how much I reassured him.

“He wouldn’t let me help him as much as I could have, and that hurt most of all.”

Carolyn blinked, looking between me and Neve for a moment. She shook her head after a moment. “I didn’t realize.”

“I know,” I said. “I wouldn’t even know parts of the tale if not for…well. For the whole reborn souls thing.”

“Right.” Her gaze shifted fully to Neve. “So…the story?”

“Yeah.” Neve cleared her throat. “Understand that I know about half of the tale secondhand—most of it I wasn’t allowed to be a part of, and I’ll explain that in the telling. Phelan was more involved than any of us, though we all helped in the hunt for him as best we could.

“War was looming even then, and Brighíd and Ciar—twins, you know—would be seventeen the following autumn when it all began. The druids had claimed Ciar when he was a boy, and despite his being the elder, he demurred leadership of the clan early in favor of his sister. She was raised to lead the Imbolg. It had been early that past winter when their father had been killed during a hunt and the mantle of chieftain fell onto Brighíd’s shoulders. She was already promised to the heir to the Fianna, Finn, who was about a year her senior but hadn’t yet come into his inheritance. Father was negotiating with the Southron clans to marry off Teague to one of them and completely ignoring the fact that he was in love with another. Maybe if he hadn’t been—if my father hadn’t been negotiating with the Southrons—things would have been different.

“Brighíd was summoned to attend a great hunt called by my father on the border of Imbolg lands. My father had called it and my brothers and Phelan had gone with him. Aoife and I didn’t attend—very few women did that time—but Brighíd was one of the most skiled boar-hunters in old Ireland and nothing would stop her from being there. She rode with Finn and Phelan out into the woods after a boar and so she wasn’t there when it happened.

“Ciar had come along with his sister to the hunt to meet with the druid contingent that was sure to be in attendance, but he ended up mildly disappointed by the turnout—that’s what Seamus told me later. There were only two or three druids, none of them known to Ciar, but he trusted them as his brothers.

“That trust was sadly misplaced.”

Neve gave me a long, silent look before she sighed, smiling wryly and shaking her head. “Well, I guess if you want to know, you want to know.” She tilted her face back toward the clouds and sky again, the faraway look returning. “Some of this I know you’ve heard before—about how we ran wild with the children of the clan chiefs of old, how we grew close to them and got into the worst and best sorts of trouble with them at our sides. Teague loved one of them with his whole soul. Seamus dallied with another, though he didn’t love her.” She shot a faint, weak smile in Leinth’s direction.

The other woman gave her a reassuring smile of her own. “I’m well aware of his past relationship with Brighid of the Imbolg,” she said. “Marin and I have had that discussion as well.”

Neve slanted a curious look at me and I shook my head. “It’s not important.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she shrugged and went on. “Phelan was cousin to them by way of their mother,” Neve said. “To Brighid and Ciar. Perhaps that’s why he spent so much time with them—because of the blood link.” Another smile ghosted across her face. “Or maybe because they were just the most like us. They threw caution to the wind even though the weight of responsibility hung heavy on their shoulders. Ciar was training to be a druid almost as soon as he could talk and Brighid…she was a warrior-born if I’ve ever seen one, and I’ve seen many.”

My cheeks grew warm. Where was she heading with this, I wondered, unless it was just trying to make me pay for not coming to her rescue, for agreeing that she should tell us some stories of old? I didn’t think it could be that, not really.

Could it?

“Maybe that’s why they seemed to have a target pinned on their backs just like we did.” Neve shook her head. “Maybe that’s why Ciar was taken and almost lost.”

“What happened?” Carolyn asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

I swallowed hard and answered for Neve. “Ciar was the Ridden Druid. They nearly lost him forever—and before Seamus, he was the only man to ever walk away from the Wild Hunt and survive to tell the tale.”

The four of us sat in the sunshine on a cleared patch of broken concrete outside of the tents a few yards from the wall. The breeze that tugged stray hair free of my braid was pleasantly warm, promising that though there might still be snow on the ground and winter lingered, overstaying its welcome, spring would come again to the world—hopefully soon. We’d spread an old quilt on what had once been a sidewalk and settled in to get some work done. Jacqueline, Kellin, and most of the rest came and went—except for Tala, who was keeping close to the fire to mind another culinary experiment, and Sif, who was keeping close to Thordin, who still lay unconscious. There’d been no signs of his waking since the fight on the ice.

Despite my assurances to the others, I was beginning to doubt he’d ever wake up again.

Neve leaned back against her palms, staring at the faint, wispy clouds that drifted lazily in the blue sky above. A faraway look touched her features and for a moment, I wondered what she was thinking, what she was remembering.

I’d almost worked up the guts to ask when she sighed and looked at Leinth. “You’re right to worry about him,” she said softly. “He deserves to be worried about, to be cared about—even if we know he’ll come through this fine, just like he always does.”

“Except for when my kin betrayed him,” Leinth whispered. Neve winced.

“Yeah. Except for then.” She drew her knee up to her chest—no mean feat at this point—and rested her chin on it.

“What was it like when you were young?” Carolyn asked, peering at Neve. “When you and Seamus and Phelan were all doing whatever you were doing back in ancient Ireland.”

Neve laughed quietly. “You don’t really want to hear those stories, do you?”

“Actually,” I said softly, “I think maybe we do.”

~~~~~~~

[Now is your chance to tell me what kinds of stories you want Neve to tell!]

“I still say that one of us should have gone with them.”

I barely suppressed a grimace at the words I’d heard far too often over the course of the past three days. I guess letting Seamus so far out of her sight wasn’t sitting well with Leinth at all. Truth be known, I wasn’t entirely happy about Thom’s absence, either, but at least I was keeping that to myself for the most part. Neve looked at me sideways and I shook my head. It wasn’t worth another comment on the matter.

Carolyn glanced up from the pair of jeans she’d been patching, a faint frown creasing her forehead as she looked at Leinth. “You act like you don’t trust them.”

“Of course I trust them,” Leinth said with a hint of faint indignance to her voice. “It’s the rest of the world that I don’t trust.”

Neve sighed. “They’ve got a pair of werewolves trailing them and several members of the Hunt have assured me that if my brother’s in danger, they’ll know and they’ll be there as fast as their mounts can carry them.”

Leinth glanced at me. “It’s the distance they’d have to travel that concerns me in that scenario.”

“Enough,” I muttered, closing the book I’d been trying to read with a loud snap. “The fact of the matter is, none of us did go with them and we’re still here and they’re out there and I’m sure they’re fine. They’re not stupid men and they won’t take unnecessary risks.”

“No, only necessary ones,” Neve murmured. I glared at her, but my heart wasn’t in it. She shot me a wry smile and all I could do was sigh in response.

“They’ll be fine,” I repeated, meaning it with every fiber of my being.

Maybe if I said it enough to them, I’d finally begin to believe it myself.

“I said what, not who,” Lara said, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “There are more than a few with old souls and bloodlines that run back to Otherlanders that aren’t friendly or kind. I had to be sure.” Her gaze flicked toward Seamus. “Besides, he’s known to have ridden with the Wild Hunt. They’re not exactly known for their merciful natures.”

“True enough,” Seamus said quietly, sounding weary as he leaned back in his chair. “Sit down, Cam. Your anger is misplaced; she was only being cautious.”

Cameron glared in Seamus’s general direction and crossed his arms, leaning a shoulder against the wall instead of sitting. “Caution’s fine, but this felt like a little more than that.”

“Your instincts are good.” Lara’s gaze darkened. “If I’d deemed you a true threat, you’d have died in this room.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve decided we’re not a threat,” Thom said, unfolding from his own chair. His legs hurt from riding, the muscles starting to stiffen. Standing felt strangely good. “How many of you survived the attack?”

Lara closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled. “You mean the one that burned half the place?”

“That would be the one.”

She sighed. “Twenty-five, including me. There used to be almost sixty of us here.” Her gaze focused distantly. “We burned their bodies and scattered the ashes. There was no way we could bury them safely, not anymore.”

Thom felt a pang deep inside and nodded slowly. These people didn’t have the luxury of a sprawl like they did back at campus—but then, he wondered how many dead they’d buried when this had all begun.

Too many, I’m thinking, unless they burned those bodies, too.

He shuddered slightly at the thought and swallowed hard.

I’m glad it wasn’t us. Very, very glad it wasn’t us.

After a long, silent moment, the woman nodded. “I believe you,” she said, then glanced sidelong at one of her men. “Release them, bring some bread and tea. Time to demonstrate that we’re actually civilized.” She drew herself up straighter and looked Thom in the eye. “Lara Duchnes.”

“Thom Ambrose,” he said quietly, meeting her gaze. “But I already told you that.”

“You did,” she agreed. “Your father worked for the government.”

His blood ran cold. “How—”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to,” Seamus said quietly, looking at Thom. They were words he’d heard far too often.

Maybe I don’t want to know the answers, but the question’s still out there.

Lara just smiled at him. “I know a lot of things. Probably more than I should.”

“Then why all the questions?” J.T. asked, his voice a soft rumble. “Why the damned games?”

“I had to know if you’d be truthful with me,” she said softly, staring at Thom again. “He was. You can’t fake that kind of sincerity, that kind of emotion. He convinced me.”

Good to know I’m good for something. Thom exhaled, letting an unbidden shiver come unhindered.

Seamus cleared his throat. “Where did your truthseeking gift come from, Miss Duchnes?”

One corner of her mouth quirked upward in a sly smirk. “What makes you think I have one?”

“Gut instinct,” Seamus said, his voice still gravelly, as if speaking had somehow become hard sometime between the hilltop and now. “Now match us truth for truth. Where did it come from?”

“I doubt you’d believe me if I said it was Queen Mab,” Lara said glibly, crossing her arms, her expression going blank.

“No,” Seamus said. “Not at all.”

“I’ll tell you, then, Taliesin that was,” she said, stepping close to where he sat. “Lady Nyx, mistress of the shadows, birthed my line. For what is light without the shadow to define it?” Her gaze flicked toward the others as she straightened slightly. “But worry not. I mean no harm to any of you. I can sense what you are and I know better.

“I’ll be damned if I don’t know better.”