Blue Keltic Moon (Children of the Keltic Triad) (3 page)

Was this hell? No, he didn’t think he believed in the human need for a place of evil. Or did he? He pulled harder, willing the sharp sting at his scalp to focus his drifting thoughts. It seemed forever since a clear thought had remained for longer than a breath.

Morghan curled into a ball on the cold ground. Taking handful after handful of dry earth, he let it sift through his fingers, the dust merging with the gray, misty air. This was real
.
An unreality had become his reality. Or was it reality that was truly unreal? He clutched a handful of dirt to his chest when a soft sound captured his attention.

Sound was unusual in this gray world, so any instance was cause for investigation. Frowning, he strained to hear the continuing sound. At least he should discover the source, shouldn’t he? He rolled to his hands and knees and crawled forward. He knew this sound, a knocking as if on a door. No, not knocking... speaking. No, not words... moonlight.

He clamored to his feet. He heard moonlight. Stumbling forward he followed the sound. There was a reason for the light and the moon. He stopped. If only he could remember.

Faster, then, he ran on until he moved beyond the small patch of the gray earth and rock he’d claimed as his own. Heated anticipation burned through him. Something was happening. Something important. He needed to be there. In the moonlight.

Rhythmic pounding sounded behind him. He touched his face, curious at the rise of his eyebrows. Another followed the call of the moonlight? Who of the damned would sense such a call? A flash of fire. He struggled to capture the thought then shrugged as the memory blinked from his mind.

Morghan paced in a small circle. Why had he been running? There was nothing different in this world of sameness. After another slow circle Morghan found his direction. Slowly he moved across the barren landscape until he found his chosen place. Cross-legged, he sat, rested his chin on his fists and stared into the dim, hazy distance.

––––––––

B
reanna perched on a bird-splattered picnic table at the edge of the park across the street from her parents’ home. Though the sun blazed down on the green expanse before her, it was cool in the shade. A breeze ruffled the pages of her journal, denying her the chance for long, rambling trains of thought. That didn’t matter, she was having difficulty concentrating anyway.

Finally she closed the book and escaped into the Sunday afternoon entertainment. It was a busy day at the park, with all the shelters and picnic tables filled. The shrieks from at least three birthday parties kept the resident birds and squirrels on alert. Freshly washed and polished antique cars filled the parking lot while the promoters of the event scurried to set up a long grill and a cotton candy machine.

The couple directing the set up looked a bit flustered. Bree grinned. Many times she’d assisted Pop-pop setting up events at The Castle, Jaysson’s permanent faire site. So she understood all the things that could go wrong. But telling the hot couple, now involved in a low-pitched argument, to simply take a few deep breaths to calm down wouldn’t help. She was glad Pop-pop and Jaye had decided to close Zeroun’s catering, although they still helped out at the Castle. Sometimes she missed the excitement of a successful event.

She let her gaze wander to the group of teenagers reenacting battles with padded, wooden and plastic pipe weapons. The young people were dressed in an interesting combination of medieval, fantasy and modern garb. Today, there was even a Samurai. Their enthusiasm and dedication were real, though if they fought actual battles, there would have been no survivors. Once when she’d been the same age, she’d tried to join them, and show how battles really would be waged.

She’d been laughed out of the park by a handful of know-it-all boys. Now one of those boys was a banker. Another ran a comic book store. A third, who had actually listened to her, worked as a knight in the jousts at The Castle.

Chuckling, she shooed a fly with a wave of her hand. She’d seen him practice. He still had much to learn.

And she was the leader of the Alastriona, the defenders of mankind. She proudly equated her faerie warriors to a special ops group—no discernable presence, but on the ready, nonetheless.

A fine irony.

“Hey, baby girl.”

“Dad. Come to join my critique of today’s battle?”

“Nope. I’ve got a message for you from lord Jaysson.”

Bree’s shoulders tightened, shedding the pleasant relaxation of the summer afternoon. Jayse usually just called her. To receive a message like this meant important, official faerie business. Her heart thudded heavily. “
Lord
Jaysson?”

Bryce sat next to her and shrugged one shoulder. “It’s an official request for you to call him as soon as possible. Official requests require the proper titles and officious tones.”

“Now you sound like some of the counselors in Lucidea’s high court.” Bree chuckled and her father joined her for a moment before resting his hand on her arm. “He sounded stressed, so it must be important, honey.”

Rubbing her palms together, she watched her father’s face trying to determine if he knew more than he was saying. “Is someone hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so. They need you as Alastriona, not healer this time.”

“He still could have just called my cell.”

Bryce bit back a grin. “He did.”

“I didn’t...” She patted her pocket. “Where did I leave the silly thing this time?”

“Dining room table.” With an easy, practiced flourish—the culmination of years as a magician—he waggled his fingers then pulled her phone from her ear. “Call him now, Bree. He was pretty rattled.”

They rose together. Bree punched in the overseas number as they crossed the street and they made it to the porch. Her father had stepped inside before the connection went through. “Breanna. Come to Scotland. Now,” Jayse said without preamble then disconnected.

Surprised at his terse communication, Bree gave her folks a quick farewell and hurried across two connecting backyards. Jaye’s backyard was home to a permanently opened portal to Faerie, disguised from human view as a rose covered trellis. From there it was but a few short steps to create a portal to her destination.

She stepped from the bright, clear daylight of Faerie into the dark of a Highland night. Without her usual slow enjoyment of the area, she jogged to the manor and pushed open the heavy, scarred wood door. She paused a moment, listening, then followed the faint murmur of voices to the workroom.

The conversing trio fell silent when she entered and stepped back to reveal a tartan covered lump centered on a table. Tall and regal, Jayse, ruler of her faerie clan, motioned her forward. Then his shoulders slumped noticeably and he gathered his wife to his side.

Lucidea, ruler in her own right of another fey race, glanced up at him, shivered, then sat on one of the four chairs placed around the table. She held tightly to Jayse’s hand and he sat next to her.

Full of questions, Bree turned to Coralie, who gnawed on her lower lip and gave a single shake of her head. Tears shimmered in the Alfar-Sindhu’s eyes. Coralie glanced past Bree’s shoulder, took a deep breath and sat.

It didn’t take much thought for Breanna to realize this meeting had something to do with Morghan. Lucidea’s uncle, and Coralie’s lover, the prince of the Alfar-Sindhu had disappeared into the world between worlds twenty years previously. But from the concern and sadness on the faces around her, she assumed she wasn’t there to hear good news.

“You know the history behind Morghan’s disappearance,” Jayse stated softly. “Of how he found a skull, a sacrifice, shortly before the fire elemental attempted his escape from the world between worlds?”

Bree nodded then turned slightly to look at the bust on a pedestal near the inner door. Lucidea’s father, Morghan’s brother, had been killed to open the way for the elemental. Morghan had prevented the elemental’s escape, but had been trapped in the world between worlds himself. A sculpture of him, one of Lucidea’s creations, stood at the other side of the doorway.

Jayse continued, “For the first year after Morghan’s disappearance, Lucidea and Coralie attempted to bring him home at each full moon. After that they—we—concentrated on the rare blue moons. But we must have always missed some clue, or maybe the timing was never right. I don’t know.” He stroked the back of his fingers along Lucidea’s cheek. “We just don’t know.”

“No,” Lucidea said and covered his hand with hers. She leveled her gaze on Breanna. “We do know there’s another blue moon in a week. We need to talk with Gowthaman. He’s archived most of the calendars and texts Coralie used... used the last time. We need to see if there’s another conjunction of blue moons in all those different calendars.”

The reluctance in Jayse’s movements as he angled to face Breanna sent a pang of longing into her heart. To love another so much, and to be able to show the world that love...

“You’ll bring Gowthaman here, along with his research. We need his expertise.”

“Did you send a message?”

Jayse gave her a rueful smile. “As always, he respectfully declined, saying he’d send pertinent materials to us. I want
him
here, Bree. Even if you have to carry him.”

“Understood. I’ll leave now and—”

“Wait, Bree,” Lucidea said. “There’s more. We think this time might be... no, this
will
be the time we find Morghan and bring him home to us. There’s another part in the equation this time. There’s... there’s this.”

At Lucidea’s nod, Coralie rose and carefully lifted the square of tartan from the table. The dark, empty eye sockets of a fleshless skull stared toward Breanna. “What’s this?”

At Coralie’s uplifted eyebrow, Bree waggled her hand toward the table. “A skull. I know that. But whose? Where?”

Jayse took up the telling again. “This was found near the spot Morghan discovered his brother’s skull. We didn’t find any other parts of a skeleton.”

Calling on her analytical skills, Bree leaned forward to study the bones. “Coincidence?”

“Hardly,” Jayse said. “The location is in a remote part of the property and the surrounding rocks and ledges are difficult to navigate. So it wasn’t an accidental fall. And all we found was the skull.”

“Who found it?”

“Coralie.”

Breanna turned to Coralie who gave a one shouldered shrug. “I was out walkin’ an’ for some reason I walked a different path. I ken ’tis strange, but I ken now ’twas where I was supposed to be. ’Twas for me to discover.”

“Any idea—”

“Oh, aye. We ken who ’tis.” Coralie made a face so filled with disgust, Bree smiled despite the growing unease in her belly. “’Tis Pagas.”

Bree jerked her gaze to Lucidea. “The high chancellor you beheaded? Are you sure? How?”

Nodding, Lucidea angled the skull to point at an odd configuration of the bones. “See these? The openings for Sindhu breathers. And this...” She placed a heavy ring next to the skull. “This is Pagas’ ring. Before you ask like a thorough investigator, yes, I’m sure. This ring designates his position within the palace and if you look inside you’ll see the faint markings of his family crest etched on the back of the stone. It’s his. I’d never seen him without it. The ring... was inside the skull. And, I took measurements and drew the face supported by the skull. It’s Pagas.”

To Bree’s relief, Coralie covered the stark bones. “After Lucidea delivered punishment, as was her right, Pagas was no’ taken to the Great Sea. Instead his disgrace was unceremoniously tossed into the deepest rift in our world. None should have found his remains.”

“No one would,” Lucidea agreed. “I’m just taking a guess here, but from the condition of the bones, I’d say they’ve been out of water about a year.” She glanced at Lachlan’s bust and her voice broke. “The same time period as... like Daddy.”

Silence surrounded the table while Jayse comforted his wife. Bree’s mind whirled with the possibilities. The similarities between the two incidents were far too precise to be coincidental. If the events of twenty years ago opened a passage from the world between worlds, then this—find—might help them do the same. “But, Pagas died nearly twenty years ago, would it still count as a sacrifice?”

Jayse cleared his throat. “We have no idea how the skull was returned, or why. Unless we consider the timing. Then, yes. I would say this is our sacrifice. We’ll understand the truth of this discovery soon.”

Rising, Bree straightened her spine. “The truth of now is that opening the veil into the world between worlds is highly probable as long as this coming blue moon is confirmed by other calendars. Gowthaman will know if it is. And he’ll help discover ways to support the spells Morghan used before, so we can rescue him.”

“Very succinct.” Jayse smiled wearily. “Our thoughts exactly.”

“I’m on my way. I’ll have Gowthaman here by this afternoon.” She gave Jayse a wink. “Even if I have to knock him over the head to do it.”

B
reanna stood before Gowthaman and solemnly voiced Jayse’s command. Before she began her own arguments, Gowthaman stood, his slow smile halting anything she might have said.

“Yes, I will come. I, too, believe this may be the propitious time. I am glad you have given me a little time before we must leave. I would like to show you what I have been working on. I have developed theories which may be of benefit.”

“And you want to practice them on me?”

Again he smiled that slow smile, one that delighted her to the tips of her toes. “Perhaps.”

She pulled out a chair to keep from reaching for him but stopped when he shook his head. “Please come with me.” Bree nodded and followed him across the workroom into a smaller alcove.

He’d covered the wall with a huge sheet of paper and begun a drawing in the center of the page. Breanna studied the arrangement of circles then faced him and shrugged. “I don’t understand this.”

She sensed his hesitation to move closer so she eased back a step. While she expected relief, the flash of regret in his eyes startled her. But he turned toward his drawing before she had a chance to analyze what she thought she’d seen.