Priestess Dreaming (An Otherworld Novel) (8 page)

Smoky let out a slow breath. “I think I know where this is leading. This journey you want Camille to go on? You are sending her to locate this . . . person . . . who went up against the wyrm long ago.” He turned to me. “The wyrms of the earth cannot shift form like we can. They are alien even to those of us who sit in the Dragon Realms. Most have slumbered so long they will never wake, but others . . .”

“Others will waken as time goes on, Iampaatar, and you know this. Even if we could defeat Yvarr without . . . his help . . . our luck can’t hold out forever.”

Smoky slammed the table with one fist. “Yes, but you know Camille cannot face this wyrm. Yet you seek to send my wife off to get mixed up in this—”

Derisa stood, towering over everyone in the room. She was even taller than Smoky. “Camille is
already
mixed up in this, like it or not. We must seek out the one person who knows how to handle the ancient wyrms and dark denizens from the battles during the Great Divide. You know he is the only sorcerer who has lived even longer than many of the Great Fae Lords. He comes from a noble line, an arcane family tree. His powers were renowned among the ancient Druids, and he led them with fortitude and might.”

I dropped the cookie I’d picked up, and it crumbled on the table. A wave of panic began to rise. She couldn’t mean who I thought she meant. “You mean you’re sending me in search of
him
? I thought he was lost in the mists of time, imprisoned at the same time Aeval and Titania were shackled into submission.” During the time of the Great Divide, those who disagreed that the worlds should be separated—into Otherworld, Earthside, and the Subterranean Realms—were either cast into servitude, killed, or stripped of their powers.

Aeval had been imprisoned in a crystal cave and I had helped free her. Titania had been stripped of most of her powers until she remembered who she was and woke from a drunken stupor that had lasted for millennia. While not alive during the Great Divide, Morgaine had come seeking my help, and ended up aligning herself with the two Fae Queens, to become the third member of what I now called the Triple Threat.

Together, the Court of the Three Queens created the new sovereign Fae nation—Talamh Lonrach Oll. Loosely translated, it meant the Land of Shining Apples. They now ruled as a trio, and they had forged treaties with the government for a five-thousand-acre compound.

Derisa gave me a gentle smile and reached out, touching my shoulder. Once again, the cold swath of panic raced over me. She was asking me to go in search of a legend.

And then I realized why she had talked about resetting the portal. “That’s why you want to redirect the portal to the realm of the Elder Fae. That’s where he is, isn’t he? That’s where you’re sending me.” And
that
thought was even more frightening.

She let out a soft laugh. “Yes, you understand now. We need you to do this Camille, and we are sending Bran, Morgaine, Mordred, and Arturo with you. You may choose three of your own people to go as well.”

“Bran! But I . . .” I stopped. It was no use arguing. The quest was set and nothing I could say would change their minds. No, I’d have to join forces with four people I didn’t trust, on what could well be a wild-goose chase. The best I could do was gather as much information as would help me.

“Why does Yvarr want the Raven so much, and who is he talking about? What’s Raven Mother got to do with this?”

“This, I’m not certain of. But her allegiance with the Black Unicorn has exposed her to danger and the Moon Mother has ordered me to help. I know she’s an Elemental and they are Immortal, but the wyrm must not be allowed entrance into this realm. If he goes on the hunt, he’ll destroy everything in his path to get to her. That’s where you come in. Stop him before he has a chance. And the only way to stop him is to waken the one who knows the Spell of Naming.”

“The Spell of Naming . . .” I had heard of it, but only vaguely. What it was, didn’t matter at this point. I stared at the window. The morning light filtered through, and by the looks of things, we might have a bit of clear sky on the way.

After a moment, I turned back to the High Priestess. “So, that’s it. I’m going in search of the Merlin.”

Derisa laughed then. “Oh, yes, Camille. You’re going in search of the Merlin, and we can only hope that you find him before the wyrm is free from his icy cage and comes after you and Talamh Lonrach Oll. Because once he shakes off his shackles, he will rampage and destroy, and he’s convinced you hold the key to Raven Mother. Not all evils are Demonkin, you know.”

Smoky sputtered. “This is madness. You don’t even know if the Druid still lives, do you? The Merlin is a chaotic force. One who is far too dangerous to bring back into the picture. What are you thinking?”

Derisa stared at him, contemplating her answer. When she spoke, it was in a way I’d never heard a non-dragon speak to a dragon before. “I am thinking—and the Moon Mother agrees with me—that to protect this world you
claim
to love so much, along with the people in it, the Merlin is your best hope. He’s a wizard—he is the Father Druid and his powers go far beyond the faerie tales and stories of Camelot.”

“I will not allow my wife to set off on a suicide mission!” Smoky leaped to his feet so quickly he tipped over his chair. He swung around to grab it up from the floor, but his expression was hostile. I hadn’t seen him this angry in a long time.

“Love, I don’t think I have a choice—”

“You can say no. You can refuse.” He turned to Derisa, who slowly stood, staring him down. I wouldn’t want to be in the middle between them, that was for sure, though in a way, I was.

She rested her hands on her hips and glared him down. “Dragon, do you realize just how powerful the wyrms are? You sat in your Dragon Reaches while they helped scorch the world during the Great Divide and you
did nothing
!”

“It was not our fight!”
Smoky’s voice thundered through the room and his nostrils pinched in. His eyes were frozen over, and I realized he was dangerously angry—I’d only seen him this furious a few times before. I had a feeling this time it stemmed back to his guilt over not protecting me from being kidnapped by his father, but that was ridiculous. It hadn’t been his fault, but he hadn’t been able to let it go.

“
Not your fight
? But now you seek to interfere? Would you be so quick to help if you weren’t married to Camille? If you didn’t know her, would you be so concerned if she went off traipsing after the Merlin? Or would you just fly back to the Dragon Reaches and ignore the whole situation?” Derisa could be pretty daunting herself when she was angry.

I had to do something. “Stop it, both of you.”

“Camille, keep out of this.” Smoky cast a dark look my way, and his order made me bristle.

“Excuse me? I’m directly involved in this. You don’t get to tell me to shut up and mind my own business.” I let out a low sigh, already tired of the whole mess. “I’ll make my own decisions, thank you.”

Smoky growled. “And you’ll never let me in, will you? Never let me have a say in what you do. You’ll put yourself in danger with no thought to your sisters or your husbands.”

I stared at him. “Smoky, you’re being ridiculous. We’re
all
in danger. My sisters as much as I am. We have no choice. We never have, not since the day we were sent over here.” Exasperated, wanting to smack some sense into his thick dragon skull, I just stood there, wishing somebody would back me up.

A moment later, Derisa seemed to realize that there was some serious smoothing over needed. “Smoky, your wife . . . she has a place to play in this drama. Destiny calls for her presence. Duty . . . calls her.”

That was a word that Smoky seemed to respond to. He bit back a retort and slammed into a chair, staring at the table.

I turned to Derisa, all too aware that the storm wasn’t over yet. “You think the Merlin can help contain Yvarr?”

“The post of the Merlin is that of High Priest to the Hunter. Chaotic? Yes, but the forces of the earth are chaotic. He can help you contain Yvarr; he and others like him who wake to these turbulent times. And after taking on the wyrm, the Merlin might just be able to help you counter Telazhar. His powers are grounded deep in the earth.”

I closed my eyes. Legends had come to life before and left me disappointed. Morgaine—one of the supposed greatest sorceresses—was also a distant ancestral cousin, but she was corrupted with greed and I found it hard to trust her. Would the Merlin be different? I could only cling to a faint hope that he would. Whatever the case, we had no choice. With a creature like Yvarr on the loose, the world would be a far more dangerous place. If there was any way to contain him, we had to attempt it. Plus, the lingering thought that the Merlin might be able to take on Telazhar tantalized like the proverbial carrot and horse.

I cleared my throat. “There’s no question about it. I’ll go. Even though I have to take Bran and Morgaine with me. We need his help.”

The room fell silent as I stared at the table. The thought of traipsing off into the realm of the Elder Fae again was terrifying and gave me the cold sweats, but it was probably safer than Otherworld right now.

Don’t bet on it,
a tiny voice inside whispered.
Telazhar has nothing on the Elder Fae. Remember Yannie Fin Diver?

Another shudder raced through me. The freakazoid Elder Fae had chased Delilah and me down, determined to prove that we were his lunch.

“I have a question, and maybe it’s stupid but I don’t understand something.” Delilah broke the silence. “Why do you keep saying
the
Merlin? Isn’t his name just Merlin?”

Derisa cracked a grin. “No, my child. The
Merlin
is actually the title of a post—the post of the High Priest to the Hunter. The Father of the Druids is the son of the Earth Mother’s consort. Whoever holds the post, holds the title. But the men who wear that mantle are neither human nor Fae. For when they take the post, they are reborn into what they become. The men who are born to this post are groomed for it, a lot like the Dalai Lama—the boy is chosen when young and trained, when the reigning Merlin knows he’s nearing the end of his time.”

Delilah finished her cookie and reached for another one. I shook my head. My sister was a sugar freak and a junk food junkie. If she’d been fully human, the amount of crap she ate would probably have done her in. “So, was he human when he took the post?”

“When he was chosen to be the new Merlin, yes. But they undergo a dark and treacherous rite and this changes them. The Merlins live for thousands of years, although they can be killed. They are not kindly old men, they are not Gandalf of the
Lord of the Rings
, nor the wizard portrayed by
The Sword in the Stone
. Never, ever underestimate him.”

I turned to Delilah. “Think of the human pope—he takes a new name when he’s chosen to office. The world has been without the Merlin for so long, it will be interesting to see what changes when I find him and bring him back.
If
we manage the task. His presence gives the planet a strength . . . it’s hard to describe, but think of it this way. If Derisa here vanished from Otherworld for a couple of thousands of years, the Coterie of the Moon Mother would fall into shambles.”

“So the return of the Merlin could mean major shifts in the human pagan movement.” Delilah cocked her head. “That’s going to be interesting to see.”

“Yeah, providing he hasn’t jumped the shark. All we need is a crazed Druid sorcerer running around loose.” Even as I said it, I felt sick to my stomach. Unleashing old energies could be dangerous. But again—we didn’t seem to have much choice. Somehow, Yvarr had woken, and the Merlin was one of the few who could fight him.

“What do we call him when you find him?”

“His last known name was Myrddin and at one point, he was pretty much categorized as a crazed legend—a madman prophet. But we know how history goes.” I grinned. “It’s always written by the victors.”

“So, not only do we have a rogue portal open to the Northlands, but you’re going traipsing off into the realm of the Elder Fae to look for the Merlin.” Trillian drummed his fingers on the table. “And I’m still worried about Darynal.”

His blood-oath brother, along with another compatriot, was lost somewhere in the Shadow Lands, a region in Otherworld that separated the Southern Wastes from the eastern side of the major continent. There were ghosts there, volatile and angry, of thousands of people who had fled from the Scorching Wars. They had been hunted down and murdered, their bodies rotting into the land and fens. Restless spirits had taken hold in the Shadow Lands—giving rise to the name. They lingered there even now. And once again, Telazhar was leading an army across the land. This time, their rampage threatened to be far worse than the Scorching Wars.

“I know you want to go looking for him, but we . . .” I stopped. The danger was everywhere. We needed Trillian here, but Darynal was his blood brother. We had been arguing about this for almost three weeks, and it had gotten pretty loud and there had been several times when one of us had stormed out, slamming doors and the whole shebang. But now, how could I encourage him to stay here with me running off in search of the Merlin? And should I even try? He had a blood-oath debt to Darynal that preceded our connection.

A knot formed in the pit of my stomach, and, from somewhere far away, I heard myself say, “Go then. Go find him. But damn it, if you die I’m going to kick your balls till they’re blue.” I stared at him.

Trillian pressed his lips together, but the look in his eyes said everything.

“Are you sure?” Smoky turned to me. He seemed determined to put me on the spot today. “You are willing to allow this?”

With a sense of defeat, yet knowing that I was doing what was right, I shrugged. “What else can I do? This war in Otherworld isn’t going to end tomorrow. I have to go find a living legend. We have a portal leading to the Northlands cranking out monsters by the minute and we have no clue where it is right now. Chase still has bad guys he has to catch right here. Life is happening all around us. It won’t wait for the perfect time to spring things like this—nature is unfettered, and Fate weaves her own path without regard to our comfort. I hate that Trillian will be risking his life, but the fact is—Darynal? He would do the same for Trillian or for me. We owe him that much.”

Trillian swept around the table and gathered me in his arms. “My love, this means so much to me.”

“I know,” I whispered. “That’s why I’m telling you to go. Go find him. But damn you, come home to me. You understand? No dying. No getting hurt.”

“Understood.” He gave me another kiss, then straightened up. “I promise you, if I haven’t found him in two weeks, I’ll return. If I can’t find Darynal in that time, then chances are he’s dead. The Shadow Lands claim their victims without regard to the good in their heart.” Frowning, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I won’t go alone, either. I’ll find someone to take with me.”

“I’ll go.” Rozurial stepped forward. “I know Otherworld inside out. I have been in the Shadow Lands before, when I was hunting Dredge. And I have several . . . acquaintances in OW that owe me favors. I’ll call one or two of them in—they are trackers and bounty hunters. We’ll do best traveling with others used to the open road.”

Grateful to Roz, I beamed at him and he gave me a quiet wink. He knew how terrified I was at the thought of Trillian trekking off down to the Shadow Lands, and he knew just how dangerous that area was.

Trillian leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m glad to have you with me. Honestly, if it were anybody but Darynal—well, anybody outside of this room—you wouldn’t catch me anywhere near that place.”

“When will you leave?” I reached out, took his hand and rubbed it gently against my cheek.

“Tonight, love. We’ll take the portal in the basement of the Wayfarer—that one’s pointed to Y’Elestrial.”

The Wayfarer, Menolly’s bar, had been torched and burned to the ground shortly before Samhain, killing a number of people in the process. We’d found out who did it and put an end to them, but now the bar was undergoing a total rebuild. Not
renovation
, there hadn’t been enough of it left to renovate. The basement had managed to stand intact, and part of the floor, but the bar had been destroyed. The workmen had gutted out all the burnt timbers and had started the new construction. Menolly was spending a lot of evenings talking to the architect about the new plans.

The portal in the basement had fared much better than the main floor, as had the safe room. Neither had been damaged and we’d managed to keep the fire marshal and his men from tripping through into Otherworld. Portals were common knowledge, though their exact locations were not.

The construction company promised that by the beginning of the year, Menolly would have a brand-new bar. She’d decided to nix the bed-and-breakfast angle and just go for a bigger, brighter kitchen and a new dance floor. Tavah—the guardian Menolly hired to keep watch over the portal at night—was still stationed there, only now there were two other guards on duty with her. And three during the day when Tavah slept. We’d begun to realize solo gigs were likely to end badly.