Blue Keltic Moon (Children of the Keltic Triad) (26 page)

Breanna asked, “What was this drawing? Is it something that will help insure our safe return home?”

“That, I am unable to answer. In truth, my recollection is dim, at best. But, this illustration consisted of three circles separated from a fourth by a thick line.”

He fell silent. The tiny fire cracked and snapped. Gowthaman stared into the gray flame. He did not remember seeing drawings similar to the one Morghan described, but his access to Alfar knowledge had been limited. Morghan had sketched a simple drawing in the dirt, one that would seem to hold no special meaning. Yet he felt an importance deep in his bones.

How was it that the simplest puzzles were often the most difficult to solve?

Morghan lifted a strand of Coralie’s curls, twisted it through his fingers, then began to plait the length. He hummed as he worked.

Gowthaman tilted his head to listen. The soft notes danced in a rhythmic pattern he could almost grasp. Similar to another... no, to a game. A game human children often played. He glanced at Breanna. As a child, she had charmed him into joining her in that game.

Straightening with a jerk, he closed his eyes to visualize a page from his journal. In the lower corner was an odd notation he’d made without understanding why. The name of that game. Ring o’ Ring o’ Roses.

“What are you humming?”

Breanna asked the question he was about to speak. Gowthaman opened his eyes to give her a grateful nod. Once again she anticipated his intellectual need.

His pulse throbbed. Slow heat filled his veins then settled low and heavy in his body. Another need flushed through him, burning hotter at the easy wink she gave him. This need, this she would anticipate as well.

Morghan continued to hum until he completed the thin braid. Resting his hands on Coralie’s shoulders, he leaned back with a thoughtful expression. “A children’s song. A game. I do no’ ken why I think of it now. Feels as if ages have passed since I last watched children at play.”

Gowthaman pointed at the rough scratching in the dirt. “Do you believe there is any connection between the drawing and the song?”

Cuddling closer then lifting his arm to wrap around her shoulders, Breanna said, “I was just going to ask that.” She chuckled, then stared at Morghan. “Well?”

He shrugged. “Who can say?”

“Hopefully we can. The tune reminds me a little of Ring around the Rosie. I just loved that when I was little. Especially the falling down part. Remember?” She gave Gowthaman a gentle jab with her elbow.

“Yes, little missy. You made me join your game many times.” He smiled and touched the tip of his middle finger to her nose, just as he had when she was a child.

She grabbed his finger, pressed a kiss to the pad then continued, “But, you know, the song wasn’t just some nonsense for kids. The rhyme was originally created so people remembered the black plague.”

A shudder crawled along Gowthaman’s spine. Although his Faerie home had been far distant, the threat of the Black Death had kept the portals closed and well-guarded. Young and daring, he had risked exposure many times in the name of illumination and knowledge. Long before his risks had led to the stealing of his mind.

Warmth from Breanna’s simple caress steered him from the still tender pit of his loss and memory. He glanced at her face; she stared past Morghan’s shoulder, searching the distance.

Coralie sighed. “Aye, that was a terrible time. The Alfar seldom rose to the surface in those days. We were susceptible to the disease as well.” She glanced sideways at Morghan. “Yer Da once told me he believed my parents died then.”

“Did he now? Was there more he told ye? Afore—”

“He did no’. We shall speak of such things when we do no’ have more important discussions.” Coralie caught Breanna’s attention. “So, yer thinkin’ our Alfar song may have a similar hidden meaning?”

An elegant shrug lifted her shoulders. “It’s worth a thought anyway. The timing of Morghan’s remembering the song, along with his drawing, feels like it should be important. Great, now I’m sounding like Nightshade and all his ‘feelings’.”

Morghan scratched his head. “Ye wish me to remember words from my childhood?”

“Oh, come on Morghan. Surely you’re not so old.” Bree glanced from his face to Coralie’s grin and back. “Or are you?”

He gave her a long, appraising look and said, “No’ so much older than yer man. Though ye are a wee bit of a young one.”

“And I remember the games I played. So...”

“So,” he repeated. “Coralie, ye must help me. Yer memory far outshines m’own.”

“Compliments? Aye. Will ye hum it again?”

Bree leaned close to Gowthaman while Coralie teased Morghan into the song. “I wish Chance would get back,” she muttered.

Gowthaman stroked her hair. She loved his hands in her hair. She would grow it long again—when they got home. Pleasure relaxed the tense muscles of her shoulders. His fingers danced down the side of her neck, tickling the tender spot below her ear. “Soon,
sundarii
. The shadow has not yet met his mark.”

The sharp sound of Coralie’s clap chased Chance from the top of her list of concerns. “What?”

“I remember the game we played, but no’ yet all the words. First we would join hands and spin in a circle while we sang. I think... aye, we did often tumble to the ground.”

“Yep, just like our Ring around the Rosie. Anything else?”

Concentration drew Coralie’s brows together. “I... um... aye, at a certain phrase one of the players jumped to the middle of the circle an’ we had to hold him within. We were no’ supposed to allow the center child to break apart our hands. No matter how hard he tried.”

“Now that sounds like a game we had called London Bridge. Someone got ‘locked up’ when the bridge fell down. That was the fun part—trying to break free and getting tossed around.”

“Oh, an’ in our game no matter how many children played, there was ne’er more than four in each group. Three for the circle an’ one inside.” Coralie kissed Morghan’s cheek. “Do ye remember the words yet?”

“Soon,
eudail
. Hush now an’ let me think.”

Reaching for the stick Morghan had dropped, Gowthaman traced over the designs the Sindhu had drawn. Bree watched the slow movement. The sound of dry wood against the even drier earth screeched like fingernails against a blackboard. She shuddered and Gowthaman’s movements stilled.

“I am sorry. I did not mean to—”

“Hush. The sound just grates on my nerves. I know you’re thinking.”

Nodding slowly, he laid the stick aside. “While I do not sense anything familiar about this diagram, there is meaning for us. The need to know settles in my chest, and at the center of my intellect.”

“Three circles. Hmm. All through your research into rescuing Morghan, the number three has played a prominent role.”

“Three is a holy number for many civilizations. Perhaps it is no more than that.”

“You don’t believe that, do you?” Bree took his hand, curled down his thumb and little finger then indicated the remaining fingers. “What do we know about the number three in this case? Speaking a spell or incantation three times? Morghan tried that before with limited success. He prevented the elemental from escaping but was brought here as well.”

“There must be a conjunction of second moons within a month’s span. A conjunction within three worlds.”

She stroked his long, elegant fingers, lost for a moment in the texture of his skin. Desire sparkled between them. Gold and crimson. She gasped. “Can you see this?”

Gowthaman leaned to touch his forehead to hers while they stared at the colors dancing about their hands. “Yes. I see our soulfire.”

“The colors?”

There was a smile in his voice. “It would appear Chance was correct. Even the gray of the world between worlds cannot dampen the colors of love.”

“I remember.” Morghan’s soft spoken words drew Bree’s reluctant attention. He tapped his temple. “Here in the world between worlds, ’tis too easy to forget, an’ even easier to forget to care. But, with my thanks to ye, I remember.”

After a moment of silence, he began singing quietly. “Once from water, once in air, again for land, challenge an’ dare. Dance to sing. Sing to close. Forever bind, forever hold. Air an’ land, deep water too, now we sing this dance for you.”

Coralie began nodding part way through Morghan’s song. When he finished, she wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him full on the mouth.

Heat crawled up Bree’s neck to fill her cheeks. She stared at her feet. Why should a kiss between two people she cared for embarrass her? She was delighted Coralie and Morghan were finally together. A gentle finger lifted her chin and she met Gowthaman’s tender, knowing gaze. A slight pressure drew her closer. The warmth of his breath flowed past her cheek. Her eyelids drifted closed.

“Hey Sis, what’s up?”

Dust from Chance dropping to the ground filled her nostrils. She sneezed, rubbed her nose and opened her eyes, turning from Gowthaman’s resigned expression.

Obviously well pleased with himself, Chance grinned. “What have you guys been up to?”

“Singin’ the songs of children,” Morghan answered.

“Uh, sure. Yep. Looked like it to me. Uh-huh, more like you were all thinking about making children.”

Face burning, Bree slapped his shoulder. For all the teasing in his tone, he was close to the truth. And he knew it.

“Geez, Bree. Just kidding. Sorta,” he finished under his breath.

Before she found a proper retort, Morghan asked, “Did ye discover anythin’ of interest on yer walk?”

Guilt flashed through Chance’s expression and he shook his head. “Nothing but a lot of gray.”

Studying the tic just below her brother’s ear, Bree bit back the need to call Chance on his lie. From the corner of her eye she saw Gowthaman give a barely perceptible head shake. So, he detected the falsehood as well.

“An’ ye’ll ne’er find more than that here.” Morghan waved a hand toward the ground at Chance’s feet. “As ye have returned, an’ ruined my drawin’, mayhap ye can assist us in findin’ the meanin’ of the children’s rhyme.”

Chance glanced at the partial circles remaining sketched in the dirt and scuttled back a few inches, further obliterating the drawing. “Oops. Sorry.”

Slipping the scabbard from his back, Chance laid both swords behind him then stretched and crossed his legs at the ankles. He wiggled his feet up and down reminding Bree of when he was a little boy, innocent and mischievous at the same time. What would she ever do without him to brighten her life?

“So, what’s all this about kid’s songs?”

Gowthaman answered. “We were discussing the importance of three, attempting to determine how best to insure our escape.”

“Okay, nothing new about that. What’s up with the songs then?”

Gowthaman shrugged and Bree frowned at the odd reaction. But then he smiled. “I have heard it said the things we remember best are the songs and games of childhood.”

“Sure, that makes sense. So, you’re thinking that there may be a clue to help us get home in some children’s song?”

“Yes.”

Chance thought for a moment then glanced at Morghan. “And the drawing?”

“Somethin’ I remembered from an old book. Here, I shall show you. An’ we have no’ determined if there be a relationship between the song and the drawin’.”

“But there might be?” Chance arched his eyebrows and waited for Morghan to answer.

“Mayhap.”

“Cool. Let me see.”

Coralie handed Morghan the short stick while Chance scooted back a bit further then rose to his hands and knees to watch Morghan draw. Bree studied her brother in silence. In spite of his lie, he appeared more relaxed and focused than he had before he went on his walk-about. Something had changed within him. Something important. And she needed to know. “Chance?”

“Shush. Let me think about this.” He waved one hand before leaning forward, intent on the tip of Morghan’s stick. “Can you sing the song for me too?”

Coralie’s light alto filled the small camp while Morghan completed the crude drawing. At the end of the simple tune, everyone turned to watch Chance. Proud of her brother’s interest, Bree held her breath waiting for his first comment.

He leaned back and settled cross-legged again. “You’re messing with me, right?”

“Messin’ with ye?” Morghan asked.

“Sure. Seeing if the kid can figure this out. A test.”

“No, Chance,” Gowthaman said. “Here we present a true conundrum to you. As of yet, we do not understand either the song or the drawing.”

Chance laughed. “You’re kidding, right?” After a moment of stunned silence while he looked at each of them in turn, he asked, “Want to hear what the kid thinks?”

Bree nudged his foot with hers. “Of course we do.”

“May I?” Chance held out his hand for the stick. In a showy move learned from their dad, he waved the stick like a magic wand over the three circles then touched the thick bar. “This is keeping the single circle from the others. Easy.” He tapped the single circle. “Brandr Ur.”

“But what about—”

“Shush. Let’s leave the drawing for a moment and study the song.”

Thinking that her brother sounded a bit like Gowthaman in a lecturing mode, she explained, “Actually, Coralie said it was a game. Like Ring around the Rosie or London Bridge.”

His grin spread. “Even better. Now it make’s complete sense.”

“What does?”

“Look Sis, there’s three things mentioned in the song. Air, water and land. Also the words forever bind.” He paused and looked at them expectantly, eyebrows arched high. When no one spoke, he shook his head and continued. “You must be too close to the problem. Air. Water. Land.” He touched the three circles then made the mark of a letter as he indicated each again. “Sindhu. Andras. And... I keep forgetting the name of your earth-dwelling cousins.” He glanced at Morghan.

“Domovoii.”

“Right. Domovoii. So. There’s your three. The drawing and the song both tell us it took all three Alfar races to bind the elemental and hold him in the world between worlds.”

Grinning, Chance leaned back on his elbows. “Simple.”

“A
nd while I was in the library, I heard children playing in the gardens,” Tori said after she spread the sheet with a simple drawing on the patio table. “Normally I wouldn’t think much about it, but they were playing a singing game that called to me as though I had heard it before. A long time ago.”