The Dracove (The Prophecy series) (9 page)

Cianán paced his luxurious Empressina suite, thinking about Kylie. She could be his Chosen One, but he had to be certain. He needed to know if she wore the mark upon her flesh, but it was obviously in a place not easily seen.

He could have taken her last night, fed on that precious lifeblood of hers, but it wouldn’t help him in the end. He didn’t normally romance his prey; he’d take enough time to locate, study, and then harvest them. He never thought he’d be in a situation long enough to find which color they favored most. He knew what worked well for each. There were ones with strong motherly instincts. For them, he took the form of a lost child. The expression on their faces when he revealed his true self was a sufficient reward. Then there were all those young men who wanted nothing more than to become intimate with the woman (or man) of their dreams. Those were only too easy and not nearly as enjoyable. But, what he fancied most was his ability to play the role of predator in the animal world, although his prey was of the human persuasion. Sometimes, he’d soar high above like an eagle swooping down to pluck his unsuspecting prey from their poor miserable lives. Other times, he’d use the sly tactics of the wolf. However impressive all these abilities were, he knew he’d have to take on his true form as the handsome mysterious gentleman she’d met if he was to get anywhere near Kylie.

He licked his lips at the prospect of what she’d taste like. Mayhap a small bite wouldn’t hurt. He abruptly changed the direction of his pacing. No, not yet. He needed her in his homeland for what he had in store, where everything would be prepared for her, and he knew he’d get too carried away if he took that bite, no matter how small the intended sample. Perhaps he could have fun with her right before he needed her. A little fun without biting her? Would it be possible? He had strength enough to do so.

She was, after all, merely a sacrifice.

A wide grin spread across his lips. He stared at the silver ring tumbling between his fingers. He’d taken it from her when he kissed her goodnight--a small token to remember her by. He always took something, although it was usually after he fed.

Unlike other prey, he’d have to go out in the sun with this one. He didn’t care for the sun’s warmth. If everything went well at dinner, he shouldn’t have to see it again, other than his short trip to pick her up around dusk.

But dusk he enjoyed because it was different. ‘Twas when the creatures of the night rose from their daylong slumber, and when the shadows had free reign of the night. He smiled, recalling a time when the Merlin taught him of these things. During his time with the Druids, he learned nothing compared to what she’d taught him. But it was ages ago when he’d met her, when he was a young man of twenty-three, although it felt like yesterday—

* * * * *

334 B.C.E., Ireland

He treaded softly through the forest, listening to the leaves rustle in the breeze and the sound of the babbling brook not far off. They spoke if one knew how to listen.

What was left of the sun’s golden rays slipped through the tree branches. Dandelion seeds and autumn leaves floated through them, lingering there, trapped in time. The world was magical to him, but then nature was magical. He crept around the large oak tree, touching it gently, carefully stepping over its roots to not disturb any gods still in the forest.

He searched for the Mistletoe, a sacred plant meaning a great deal to him and the others. Difficult to find, but whence found, rejoicing was apt to occur. Once he knew where it was, he’d tell the others. They would hold a ritual ceremony, cutting the Mistletoe down with golden shears and catching it in a white cloth where it would be used later to make healing potions. He looked up into the giant oak tree and searched its branches carefully.

“What is it you’re searchin’ for?”

He turned around to find a beautiful woman standing nearby. Her hair was as golden as the sun’s rays, and her eyes as bright as the brightest blue sky. He was speechless, his voice taken by her beauty.

“I ask ye, what is it ye search for?” Her melodious voice flowed from between ruby lips. She tilted her head to the side. With the motion, her hair fell, covering a small portion of her delicate face, and she pushed it back with her finger, awaiting an answer.

“I, uh—” For the first time in his life, he couldn’t find words. He swallowed his heart.

“D’ye know what you’re searchin’ for?”

All he could do was nod. When he realized his mouth was agape, he shut it.
I must look like a fool
.

“Not quite,” she said. “Ye look rather charmin’.”

“How did ye—?”

“Know what you were thinkin’?”

“Aye.”

“‘Tis a simple thing, really.” She waved a delicate hand, dismissing the complexity of what she’d done.

“Then why do ye ask me what I’m searchin’ for if ye can search my mind for the answer?”

She smiled. “That’d take away the pleasure.”

“O’ what?”

“Speakin’ with ye. Hearin’ your voice.”

He smiled and wondered who the beautiful creature was who wished to speak with him. He’d not seen her before and wondered where she came from.

“I am Cianán Lor—”

“Lorcan MacLeer, I know,” she said. “I’ve been searchin’ for ye.”

“For me? Why?”

She smiled again, and it was radiance unmatched by any sunrise. “‘Tis difficult to explain. Best to show ye. Should you care for some wine? I’ve some just over that knoll” —she pointed toward the small hill— “an’ perhaps you’re hungry, as well. You’ve been treading through the forest for some time.”

“How do ye know these things o’ me?”

“In time, Cianán. Please, join me.” She turned and walked away from him.

At first, he stood there, not sure if he should follow. She turned around to look at him, and he forced his feet to move. He had to find out who she was and what she wanted with him. When he caught up to her, she walked again, leading him over the grassy knoll to a large spread of food and drink.

“Is this to your likin’?” She lightly touched his chin and closed his mouth.

“There’s so much,” he said.

“I wasn’t sure what ye favored.”

He turned to her, looking into those mesmerizing eyes. They were as blue as the sea and he swam in them. “I thought ye could read my mind.”

“I can, Cianán, but to see every detail of your life could take many lifetimes, an’ though that does not vex me, you shall not live that long . . . unless of course, ye chose to.”

“What do ye mean?”

“Come, sit.”

She walked over and knelt down, extending her hand out in an invitation for him to join her. The candles surrounding the spread flickered to life. He stepped forward and took her hand, looked around, studying his surroundings. She poured a goblet of wine and handed it to him. He nodded and thanked her in the Druid dialect. She set the wine down and reached for another goblet. Before she could reach for the wine again, he picked it up, lifted it to her goblet and poured.

“What’s your name?” He set the wine down before sitting back, staring into her eyes, and raising his goblet to his lips.

“I’m known by many, but ye may call me Trystan.”

“What names are ye known by?”

“One ye might know would be the Merlin.”

“I thought Merlin was a man,” he said.

She laughed. “Of course, most men would think it so. Not that I’ve not taken a male form, mind ye. Sometimes it’s much simpler to deal with men as a man. But Merlin is not a name. ‘Tis more of a status given to me—
The
Merlin—by the Dasulmavre. Men confuse that sometimes. You, however, are different, Cianán. I knew ye’d like my true form, so here I am.”

He smiled; she was correct. “Why were ye searching for me? An’ what did ye mean ‘bout living many lifetimes? An’ who are the Dasulmavre—”

“Patience, Cianán. All o’ your questions shall be answered in time, an’ ye shall have more, but I’ve something to show ye first.”

He felt her searching his soul when she stared into his eyes.

“How long have ye been with the priests?”

“Since I was a boy. There are twenty years o’ training, an’ there are many things to learn. Ye didn’t know that?”

She grinned. “Mayhap I did.”

He frowned, not understanding why she’d ask him such things if she already knew the answers. Perhaps she didn’t know the answers or toyed with him. He’d heard stories of how Merlin enjoyed playing games—

“This is not a game.” Her voice boomed loud enough to frighten the faeries from their trees. “I ask ye to see if your words bear truth. That is all. I do not care for deceit or for those who chose to deceive me. Men may twist words, but those words mean nothing when compared to their souls. I merely had hopes you’d like to join me in my journey through many lifetimes. If you like, I shall tell ye things about yourself, even in the darkest part of your soul, you do not know. I could bring up the fact that you were born to—”

“I know who my parents were.”

“Perhaps, but do ye know how your mother died an’ what became of your father?”

He shook his head, wide-eyed. “Do ye know these things?”

She nodded once.

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to offend you . . . .”

“All is well.” She touched his hand. “Now then, should ye care to see somethin’ that by chance ye could do someday?”

“Please.”

“Very well.” She moved closer to him. They faced the brook. “Close your eyes a moment, like when you’re meditating.”

He did so.

“Breathe deeply . . . one . . . two . . . three. Now open your eyes an’ see a new world.”

He didn’t understand. Nothing changed.

“Clear your mind, Cianán. ‘Tis the only way.”

Clear my mind, after what you just said to me?
“The only way for what?”

“Shh.” She placed her finger on his lips. “Clear your mind . . . slow your heart . . . an’ watch life . . . .”

He listened to the words she chanted. The sounds around him changed and the leaves falling from the trees slowed in their descent. The water slowed as well. A hummingbird sat before him, suspended in the air prior to rushing home before darkness fell. He could see its wings perfectly: every color and detail of its tiny beautiful wings. He looked at her, realizing the two of them hadn’t joined in this enchanting spectacle.

“How’s this possible?”

“You shall learn, if ye choose. ‘Tis the reason I sought you out.”