Reunion (9 page)

The lesser
Youkai
- those pixies, sprites,
Leipreachán
, brownies and scores of other elementals left behind after the purges - had gone into hiding when the
Tuatha Dé Danann
and their cousins had been driven from this realm. Until he and Trása appeared - quite by accident - they'd cowered in the dark and shadowy places, waiting for someone to save them from the
Matrarchaí
.

It was impossible to convince the lesser
Youkai
that Trása was here for any other reason than to restore the greater
Youkai
to this reality. Ren was almost bowled over by the swarm of excited pixies, beside themselves at the prospect of company, as soon as they waned into
Tír Na nÓg
.

"You know, you really should explain to these guys that you're not the messiah," he said, as he tried to push the swarm away.

"I tell them all the time," Trása said as she stepped out of his embrace and almost vanished in a cloud of chattering faerie creatures. "All right," she cried, "enough already! I can't breathe!"

"They be pests, the lot of them," a grumpy voice behind them announced. "Be off with ye!"

The swarm of elementals drew back a little as Ren turned to find the
Leipreachán
, Toyoda Mulrayn, standing behind them, glaring at the lesser
Youkai
with disapproval. He managed to disentangle himself and smiled down at the little man, interested to note that he still wore his tiny - and quite absurd - ninja outfit.

"Hey, Toyoda," Ren said. "I thought you were back in Chucho?"

"Hey, yeself," Toyoda grumbled. "I be feeling ye waning back here. Ye make a lot magical noise when ye wane, did ye know that?"

"Actually, I didn't."

"Well, ye be able to wane like a
sídhe
, but ye be very clumsy at it. Does it be true about the attack on the palace? The
Matrarchaí
be back?"

At his question the swarm of Faerie creatures vanished with a squeal of fright.

Ran glanced around, shaking his head in amazement. "There's a way to clear a room in a hurry."

"Do it be true?" Toyoda demanded. "Do the
Matrarchaí
be back?"

"It was them who raided the Imperial Palace," Trása confirmed. "They took Teagan."

Toyoda frowned. "Then what ye be doin' here? Why ye not be going after her?"

"Rónán needs to access Delphine's memories to find out where they took her," Trása explained.

The
Leipreachán
nodded. "And ye've brought him back here to do it. That be a wise thing."

"I'm so glad you approve," Ren said, knowing his sarcasm would be lost on Toyoda. The
Leipreachán
glared at him for a moment longer and then vanished. Ren shook his head at the fickle nature of the
Leipreachán
and turned to Trása. "Shall we get on with it?"

Trása shook her head. "Not here. We need to go to the pool."

"The Pool of Tranquillity, right?"

"Come with me," she said. "I'll show you."

The Pool of Tranquillity turned out to be exactly that: a pool of clear, still water nestled in the forest, but some distance from the main area of trees where the creatures of this enchanted place resided. A small waterfall trickled into the pool on the other side, down a pile of mossy rocks some thirty feet away, and a faint wisp of steam was rising from the water.

"It's a hot spring," Ren said in surprise, wishing he'd known where to find this place sooner. It looked delightful.

"It's not really. The heat doesn't come from underground," Trása told him, as she began to undress. "It comes from magic."

That information didn't really register. He was too distracted by the fact that Trása was undressing. "What are you doing?"

"I'm coming in with you. The magic in that pool is intense. It can drain your mind so completely you forget why you're there," she said, with her shirt pulled half over her head. She took it off, exposing two quite perfect breasts, tossed it on the ground and put her hands on her hips. "Oh my God, Rónán, you're blushing."

"I am not," he lied, even as he felt his face burning. "It's the heat from the pool. Why are we doing this in water?"

"Not just any water," she said, stepping out of her skirt and undergarments without a glimmer of embarrassment. "The water in the Pool of Tranquillity is so magical it will make your head spin."

Ren truly didn't understand her logic. "Wouldn't it make more sense to limit the magic I can use while I access the memories of a woman with magical power who is bent on destroying the Faerie?"

Trása shook her head. "That's not the problem. You're not going to turn into Delphine again, Rónán," she said, sounding a little impatient. "Sharing someone's memories in the
Comhroinn
doesn't give you their moral code or their opinions, although you might understand them better."

"It didn't feel like that the last time."

"That's because you weren't ready for it. This time it will be better. You know more. You have better control..."

"But ... I can hear the 'but' in there."

She shrugged. "The problem is that you've built a barrier out of solid rock in your head against Delphine - not unlike the rest of your head, I suspect. Anyway, there are only two ways to break a mental wall like that down:
bust through it with the equivalent of a magical sledgehammer and break something in the process - like your mind, for instance. Or you can let it dissolve gently, so you can digest the memories a bit at a time and not go insane, or let her take you over."

Ren really wasn't sure exactly when his world had turned on its ear to such an extent that Trása was now the sensible one. And she
was
making sense, even standing there without a stitch of clothing.

God, she is so perfect ...

"Hey! Eyes up here," she said, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

"Sorry, I was just thinking -"

"Sure you were. Get your gear off. Unless you're planning to do this fully clothed."

Ren had to resist turning his back to her as he started taking his shirt off. It proved unnecessary, in any case, as by the time his clothes were lying on the ground beside the pool, Trása had dived in. He followed her as soon as he was naked, hoping Trása would assume it meant he was eager to get this done and not that he was seeking the illusion of privacy the clear warm water offered.

Trása smiled as he surfaced next to her, his skin tingling from the magical water. She was right. The Pool of Tranquillity was so suffused with magic it made him dizzy.

And more than a little relaxed. It was if the magical water had instantly robbed him of any cares, or any inhibitions. The water tasted sweet on his lips, the temperature as soothing as a deliciously warm bath. Although he could see the bottom of the pool, his feet couldn't touch it.

Trása swam up to him. "Feels amazing, doesn't it?"

Ren nodded, pushing his wet hair back out of his eyes as he trod water to stay afloat. "This place is insane."

Trása smiled. "I can't believe you're supposed to be almost pure
Tuatha Dé Danann
."

"Why not?"

"You're such a tightly-wound prude for one thing."

Any other time he might have objected to her accusation. But not here. Not in this magical pool of bliss. He just smiled. "So ... I'm a tightly-wound prude," he said, rolling onto his back to stare up at the twilight sky. He had no notion of the time in the real world and didn't care a jot about it, either. "Then you're a shameless hussy."

"Nobody says
hussy
, anymore," she said with a soft laugh. "Why did you go away?"

"You weren't speaking to me."

"Don't you ever want to kiss me?"

That is a very good question
, Ren thought, not in the least bit alarmed by it while immersed in this strange and delightful pool. He rolled over to face her. She was so beautiful. "You belong to Darragh."

Out of this mellow haven, Trása might have slapped him for suggesting she belonged to anyone. But here, where extremes of emotion were leached away by the magical waters of the Pool of Tranquillity, she seemed merely amused by the idea. "Darragh hates me."

Ren smiled at that. "As the keeper of my brother's memories, I can assure you that is not the case."

"He didn't stick up for me when they sent me away."

"He was overruled by Amergin. Your father."

"He slept with Brydie."

"That doesn't mean he hates you, Trása, just that ..."

"I wasn't there?" There was no anger or hurt in her question. It sounded like idle curiosity.

Ren shrugged. "I suppose."

"So why don't you kiss me now?"

"We came here to do something."

"What?"

"I'm not sure," Ren said, realizing he'd forgotten the reason. Maybe it was the water. Maybe it was Trása being so close
. So naked ...

"Delphine," Trása said as she swam so near that Ren could feel the heat of her body even through the warm waters of the pool. "It had something to do with Delphine."

Ren kissed her then, sliding his arms around her, pulling her slick, firm body against his, losing himself in the bliss of her soft mouth and the taste of the sweet, magical water. If there was a reason he was here, it must be this, he thought. It was too perfect, too delicious for it not to be fated.

Trása broke the kiss and pushed him away with a look of regret. "Delphine's memories, remember?"

She was right. It wounded him a little to realize he'd been so lost in their embrace he couldn't remember his own name, and yet she'd been able to recall why they were here.

"Delphine," he said, a little vaguely. "Who is she, again?"

Trása smiled, splashing him to wake him out of his torpor. "She's the evil
Matrarchaí
bitch whose memories you're too scared to look into."

"Oh," he said, wiping the water from his eyes, "
that
Delphine. Do we have to do it now?"
Kiss me again.

"After you've done what you came here to do," she promised, which made Ren realize he must have said it out loud. "Now close your eyes."

"Why?"

"You need to concentrate."

"Will it hurt?"

"Not much."

Ren nodded. He remembered now.
Teagan's been kidnapped. Darragh is missing. Delphine knows the way home.

He closed his eyes, felt Trása swim up behind him. Ren leaned back into her arms, the warm magical water lapping at his chin.
I can do this
. He
had
to do this. Lives depended on it.

The magical water had all but dissolved his fears. He took a deep breath and turned his attention inward.

Rin for strength of mind and body
.

Hei to focus psychic power.

Toh to balance the solid and liquid states ...

Ren couldn't be bothered remembering the rest. He surrendered to the magic instead and for the first time in three years, since he'd tried to kill Logan and Pete on a snowbound beach in Hawaii, he faced the walls he'd built around Delphine's knowledge in his mind and let them come gently tumbling down.

Brydie could no longer recall how long she had been trapped in her amethyst prison. There was nothing to mark the days, here inside this enchanted jewel. She couldn't count the hours until her next meal, because she was never hungry. She couldn't etch the wall with a tally of the days because the walls were hard, smooth, crystalline and impervious to any mark, even had she owned a tool with which to scrape or write on them.

Besides, what was there to tally? Her days blurred into one another. She wanted nothing. Needed nothing.

And the solitude was driving her insane.

Brydie couldn't remember the last time she had spoken to a living, breathing being. Not even a magical one.

At first, when he'd trapped her inside this jewel in order to coerce a confession from her about what Darragh of the Undivided was up to, the
djinni
, Jamaspa, had visited her often and dogged her with questions she couldn't answer. She longed for those days now, for all that Jamaspa was a poor conversationalist. Brydie ached to speak to someone other than herself. But she hadn't seen Jamaspa for so long, she reasoned he'd either forgotten about her, or lost track of her completely.

The latter was probably more likely. Anwen's plan to hide the jewel in plain sight by setting it into her bridal necklace had succeeded beyond the girl's wildest dreams. Jamaspa couldn't find the jewel, which meant he couldn't release Brydie from the spell that trapped her inside it. Ever.

She was entombed here, like a lost princess in an elaborate bard's tale, waiting for a handsome prince to rescue her.

Brydie didn't care if he was handsome. Any prince would do. He didn't even have to be a prince. The village idiot would suffice. Anyone with a pulse would be fine, if it meant escaping her facetted cell and breathing real air again.

But there were no princes on their way to save her.

No help. No rescue. No hope.

A movement in the room outside her jeweled prison caught her eye, breaking her maudlin train of thought. Someone was in Anwen's room, she realized.

She pressed her face against the cool crystal and tried to make out who dared sneak into the room of the Queen of the Celts' daughter-in-law in the dead of night. Brydie couldn't image how the intruder had sneaked past the many guards in Temair or how they'd managed to open the creaking door to Anwen's chamber without waking half the residents of the keep.

The figure moved smoothly and silently, heading for the bed. Brydie wanted to cry out, to warn Anwen someone was in her chamber, although why she felt the need to alert her, she wasn't sure. Brydie owed Anwen no favors, didn't like her, knew she was a traitor to the Celts, and a spy for a society of evil
Matrarchaí
from another realm who were bent on manipulating the bloodlines of the Undivided in this realm for their own nefarious purposes.

And yet she pounded uselessly on the jeweled walls of her prison to warn the sleeping young woman that danger approached.

The figure stepped closer. Brydie couldn't make out his features but it was definitely a man. He was dressed in black from head to foot. His flesh was completely hidden by his black clothing, except for a small slit around the eyes and his hands. Although he clung stealthily to the shadows, he couldn't avoid the sliver of moonlight coming from the high window beside the bed. He stepped carefully and noiselessly. Brydie watched him with growing trepidation, unable to fathom why his boots apparently had a slit in between the big toe and the second toe. Before she could puzzle out the reason for anything so odd, the figure reached the side of the bed where Anwen's bridal necklace - and Brydie's jeweled cell set within it - lay discarded on the side table beside the long-cooled lamp.