The Silent Goddess: The Otherworld Series Book 1 (23 page)

“No,” the answer came quick and strong.  “Only the Queen and I were aware.  Somehow Bres discovered it.  It was why, and is still why only we know.  Somehow he came upon a whispered conversation or rumor and used it to his own ends.”

Hope began to bloom; that most loved and hated emotion.  It gave light and life to the most dark and dangerous things and when it failed to grow, when it failed to make good on its promise it hurt more than if had never existed.  He refused to let it take root, because the end result would still be the same and in the end cause him more agony than he could bear.

With a quick gesture of his hand he assured Finn that he was fine.  “Yer sure yer well enough Duncan?”  He asked.  Duncan nodded pleading silently for him to retake his seat.

His mind needed clarity, but all he could only think of asking more questions.  The king, whose own powers rivaled the Queen’s at searching the mind, delved into his mind.  Duncan, in the confused state of his own thoughts could do nothing to stop him.

“There is much that is still unknown so I have few answers.  What I can say, what I do know is that Bres is very dangerous and very clever.  His attempt to weaken the veil has succeeded.  In just a week’s time it will fall completely unless Annie the mortal can be separated from the
bhanphriosa
.”

Duncan raised his eyes to meet the king’s intensely earnest gaze.  “What is it that you are asking?” he said his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Last night you called her name.  It should have, and did for a short while, release the life spark.  Annie withstood that power and the life spark remained attached to her.  I can think of only one other way to call the
bhanphriosa
outside.”

“That could kill the girl,” Finn stated in horror.

“It could destroy them both!” Duncan spat. “Are you willing to sacrifice them both?”

The king closed his eyes and nodded.

“I will not let that happen,” Duncan vowed.

“She has already agreed to go,” the king informed him.

“When?” Duncan demanded.

“She speaks with the Crow now and has agreed to try provided, of course, that you go with her.”

“And if I refuse?”

The king shrugged one shoulder, “She will go anyways, unprotected and unprepared.”

Duncan spat out a string of curses at his king and friend.  He raked an angry, shaking hand through his hair as he debated his answer and next words.  The argument was short lived as the king had him pressed tightly up against a wall and he knew it.  He knew Duncan’s answer before it left his mouth.  What he had not expected, where the last words he uttered before leaving the King’s presence.

“I will accompany her,” he replied quietly.  “But,” he added suddenly.  “I will attempt to talk her out of it every moment of the journey.”

The king laughed at his declaration.  “I have known that human woman for twenty five years and she is nothing if not obstinate.  She will follow through.”

“I wasn’t finished my king,” Duncan ground out.  “If I fail to change her mind and if so much as a hair on her head is harmed I will personally see that those responsible pay.”

Without waiting for permission to leave he stalked out of the room and went in search of Annie.  If he had lingered but a moment longer he would have heard the king crumble. He would have heard the emotion in his words.

“If that were to happen you are welcome to my life.”

Chapter Nineteen

Annie Gets Carried Away

Duncan was irate.  The stupid woman did not know what she was agreeing to.  His loud footsteps echoed on the bare floor as he stomped his way into the kitchen to find her.  He would shake her, terrify her into staying as far away from the fool’s errand she had agreed to.  If that failed… Well he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

He found her quietly sipping tea with Fiona and the wise woman.  Without uttering a word he ripped the tea from her hand and slammed it on the table.  Ignoring the screaming outrage that poured like water from Fiona’s mouth he scooped Annie up and threw her over his shoulder.  He carried her to her room and shouted at the still cleaning Knackers to leave.  Annie pounded furiously on is back demanding to be put down.  Once Knackers vacated the room he kicked the door closed and acquiesced to her demand by throwing her down on the bed.

“You,” he shouted pointing a finger at her.  “Will not follow through with this fool hardy errand they have set you on!”

She scurried quickly onto her knees hastily brushing her tangled hair away from her face.  She walked on her knees to the edge of the bed and tilted her head up at him to stare back at him defiantly. She crossed her arms and raised her brow at him waiting.

“I mean it Annie.  This path leads only to death.  I have been a puppet in this game for too long and I will not let them use you as well.”  Still she said nothing.  Her silence stirred up his anger more than any word she could have uttered.

“Do you know that that stone has been known to kill any usurper who dares to tread on it?  I will not take you to your death woman.”  He felt and heard his voice crack.  “You cannot ask that of me.  Ask me anything but that,” he whispered hoarsely.  He covered his face with his hands in an attempt to block out the vision of her lifeless eyes staring up at him like a broken doll.  The vision was so intense that he shook in fear of it

He flinched when he felt her hands gently try his hand s away from his eyes.  “Look at me,’ she commanded softly.  He shook his head in refusal and squeezed his eyes shut terrified to open them and see her dead in reality as well as in his mind’s eye.

“Look at me,” she said again.  Her breath tickled his mouth.  “Feel that?  That is the breath of life and it runs strong in this body a
chuisle mo chroi
.”

He sucked in a ragged breath as the Gaelic words left her mouth.  He inhaled them, breathed them in and shook with the emotion they created deep in his soul.

“Where did you learn that?”  he asked as his eyes slowly drifted open.

He felt her hands release his and slowly rise up his arms stopping to rest on his shoulders.  His hands moved on the own each cupping a cheek.  “Like-,”

“Pink roses?”  She finished for him.

He held her close and rested his forehead against hers.  “I understand none of this,” he admitted.

“Neither do I.  And as for her, well I won’t even tell you what she’s thinking about.  I swear she has a one track mind where you are concerned.”

He laughed.  It felt strange and yet right.  He was rewarded by the sound of her laughter.  The sound and look on her face inspired his next actions, he needed, no craved just one quick taste of that smile.  His tongue flicked out and traced the lines of her smile.  Her startled gasp gave him full access to her mouth and he greedily accepted the invitation.  His fingers gripped her head tightly, hungrily, holding her exactly where he wanted to continue taking what he needed.  She grew soft and compliant molding her body to his and wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him even closer.  Where one body ended and the other began in that moment was impossible to tell.  Together they were two halves of a complete whole one lost without the other.

His soul accepted this truth, his body demanded more and with restraint he did not know he possessed he reluctantly drew his mouth away from hers.  Not willing to accept the parting she clung to him, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth.  A feral growl escaped him.

“You play with fire woman,” he muttered against her mouth. 

His words seemed to shock her back to reality and she retreated slightly.  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t,” he said as he silenced her with a finger. 

She drew in a shuddering breath and smiled against his finger as he traced her lips.  “Well, I may have scrambled brains but she appears to be thinking more clearly.”

Duncan snickered in response.

“Shhh,” she said silencing him.  “I’m trying to hear her.”  He froze anxiously awaiting what would happen next.

She nodded her head as she silently listened to the voice buried inside her.  “That woman has a thicker accent than you do.  It’s like she struggles to speak English.”

“She does,” he admitted.  “Ancient Gaelic is her native tongue.  She always found English difficult to master.”

Her quick, sudden intake of air startled him sending his senses into a hyperactive state of awareness as he prepared to defend.  “What?”  He asked gripping her head tighter.  When she failed to respond he gave her head a quick shake until she opened her eyes.  “Answer me Annie, what’s wrong?”

“You can’t leave,” she said so quietly that he wasn’t sure he had understood her properly.

“Say it again love, please,” he pleaded almost jokingly.

She shook her head.  Whether in denial or to clear her mind he was unsure.  He remained still and quiet as he waited for her to repeat herself.  She continued to stare at some distant spot that appeared to exist somewhere over his left shoulder.  He pulled her close, hugging her, rocking her until she finally spoke.

“You can’t leave, ever, no matter what happens, no matter what is said,” she begged.  “Never give up and don’t you leave me.”

“I don’t think I can anymore.  I can’t, no matter what obstacle is thrown in my path, stay away from you.”  As he whispered the words into her hair he realized that they were true and potentially deadly.

He closed his eyes as the revelation crashed over him.  The king had been right there would be no denying her anything she set her mind to.   He may have damned them both, but for her, for them he would remain by her side come what may.  And that was the most terrifying thought ever to pass through his conscious mind.

Chapter Twenty

Emerald Shores and Misty Lore

They were embarking on a journey, venturing into unknown territory.  It had been ages, a time frame left unmeasured by man, since the stone of kings the Lia Fails had been used.  The Lia Fails was a king maker, heralding to all the destiny and linage of any worthy soul who dare to tread upon it.  For those lucky few the stone deemed worthy lived with the crown of royalty rested upon their brow; for the unlucky and unworthy; death.  Instant and final the Lia Fail could grant and take away, as it had once done to Bres.

Bres was a Tuatha de Danann, a Sidhe, he was considered by many in the Seelie court to be the most beautiful of all the Fae.  His fair looks and bravery let most forgive him for something he had no control over his parents.  Bres was only half Seelie; his mother had made the unforgivable mistake of falling in love with the enemy, with the king of the Formorians, the royal court members of the Unseelie.  Many on both sides saw Bres’ ascension to High King as a path to uniting the Seelie and Unseelie court and for a time his rule was fair and just.  Overtime power ate away at the thin layer of benevolence Bres possessed.  Darkness grew and the balance shifted sending man and Sidhe alike into the dark times.  Terror grew, innocence faded and the world grew heavy with shadow, disease and malevolence.

The Seelie forced him upon the Lia Fail through trickery for its word was absolute.  It refused to speak in his favor and lay cold and quiet beneath his feet.  Outraged Bres claimed the stone upon which he stood was not the true stone of destiny as many had assumed it had been taken to a new land.  In response an explosion of light erupted flinging Bres back to the land of the Formorians and into the darkness where he belonged.

Though, this was not to be the end of Bres. 

Many Sidhe thought he had died; that the Lia Fail had erased him from existence, but those with knowledge knew better and prepared for Bres’ revenge upon the Seelie. 

Although Bres was gravely wounded his hatred kept him alive and his spirit and injuries were nursed in the dark places that exist in the Otherworld.  The Unseelie who had grown bold and strong under Bres’ rule as High King refused to relinquish the throne to the old Seelie court and the second great battle ensued between the Tuatha de Danann and the Fomorian losses on both sides were high.  The Tuatha de Danann succeeding to victory only under the rule of the bravest warrior king they had ever known, Lugh.  He chased Bres back to the shadows and under his rule peace reigned the veil held strong and true and the memory of the Fae in the natural world began to fade from the memory of man.

Seeing the two worlds in balance Lugh sought to relieve himself of the crown and find peace and solitude, and so the crown was handed down to…

“Me,” Manny finished.

It was a tale Annie had never heard before.  She sat awestruck in her tiny kitchen staring at the man/God who she had believed was her father for twenty-five years.

“That is a tale I had not heard until now,” Duncan admitted.

“Tis something that only the oldest Sidhe remember and they rarely speak of it as it was a dark time for the Seelie and the rule of Bres is something we would all like to forget.”

Annie listened in silence.  Her mind trying to focus on something that to her was an intangible, alien race of ancient men and women, battling talking stones and other worlds of existence.  All of it was so difficult to take in as real, as history opposed to myth.

“Aye, his presence was felt on both sides of the veil and when he left the throne his light faded from the long memory of the Sidhe until he was naught more than a myth to all but the few who knew him.”

“Why are there so few of you who remember him?” She asked. 

“That last war between the Formorians and the Tuatha de Danann took many of the elders and even more of the younger Sidhe,” Manny explained sadness and remorse tainting his words.

“But I thought the Fae were immortal?”  Annie

Manny shook his head sadly his blue eyes misting over with emotion.  Finn seeing his distress answered for him.  “When wars are fought with iron death comes.”

Annie began scratching her now scarring wrist the memory of the pain she had felt that morning was still fresh and she shuddered as she recalled the burning sensation.  Duncan laid his hand over her still aching arm, his gentle touch soothing the memory.  Her imagination ran wild with visions of Sidhe in every shape and form writhing in burning agony after being struck down by and iron sword.  In comparison she had been nicked barely punctured.  Their wounds must have been horrifically painful.  Her mind sought to change topics quickly.

“So if Lugh was so great why did he leave?  What happened to him?”  She demanded.

“The burden of rule can be great and all things must, at some time, end,” Manny responded.  When she tried to question him further he held up a hand to silence her before continuing.  “But no one save Lugh himself really knows why he abdicated.”

Annie forced herself to accept the vague answer and decided to pose another question.  “Why you?”  She had the slightest realization that she was interrogating a very important Sidhe King and should probably give him the respect his title probably deserved.  But when she really looked at him all she could see was the doting, yet overprotective, father who would tuck her in tightly at night after telling her a very long story.

A half smile formed on Manny’s mouth.  “At first I was arrogant enough to think I was worthy.  The Lia Fails beat that thought out of my head.”

“So stepping on the stone is painful?”  She asked.

Manny nodded his head in response.

Duncan slammed his fist on the table startling the other three.  Annie’s heart pounded violently in her chest, but the Goddess inside her purred quietly in appreciation.  “Then she will not go!”  he shouted.

“
We have to
,” the silent Goddess told Annie.

She stayed still and quiet.  Although she did not considered herself a coward, actively participating in anything that at best guaranteed pain and at worst resulted in death was not something she was sure she should agree to.

“Calm yourself Duncan,” Manny spoke quietly.  “The pain was not physical only my ego was injured.  And I would like to remind you that as much as you care for her do not question my love for my daughter.  I would cut off my own hand to spare her but a moment of pain.”  His eyes grew dark as he stared unblinkingly back at Duncan.

“How was your ego hurt?”  She asked attempting to diffuse the tension between her father and Duncan.

A few moments of silence continued as Duncan and Manny continued to glare at each other.  Manny broke first and Annie sensed that something rather significant had just occurred.  Before she had time to process it Manny began speaking, answering her questions and drawing Annie back to the conversation.

“I thought I was to rule like Lugh.  I was wrong,” he said as his eyes fell to his hands.  ” I was merely a place holder until the king returned.  The stone whispered not only of my future but that of my unborn child.”

In that instant the strong man Annie had known her whole life and the powerful King she had just met seemed to shrink and grow frail before her.  His shoulders hunched his head falling forward as if his slumped posture bore a heavy weight and the toil of carrying it had suddenly become too heavy.

“The stone told me my daughter would marry the Lost King,” he whispered answering the unspoken question everyone was ready to ask. 

“The Lost King?  What does that mean?” Annie asked.

“The true High King who was lost, he who should rule the Sidhe.”  Manny shrugged, “Prophecies however seeming clear never are.  We are all beings ruled by fate and try as we might to over throw Fate’s rule we can never win.”

“So that’s it?”  Annie questioned angrily.  “Fate wins and I lose?”

“Annie you don’t understand-“ Manny began but she refused to let him finish.

“I don’t know about the Sidhe but humans,” she said pointing to her chest.  “Humans decide their own fate.  I’ll step on your stone.  I’ll let fate take her and I will come right back here.”  Her voice grew louder with each word until the last one was a hoarse shout and her throat burned.  Before the battle she had been convinced by others that she and the goddess were inseparable.  Now she had been given a small kernel of hope and she seized it willingly.

“Annie don’t do it,” Duncan begged.

She refused to look at him afraid that if she did she would lose the tiny spark of bravery her anger had caused.

             She kept her attention focused on her father and on his words that continued to echo in her mind.  She needed to believe that she could continue to live as she had before and if stepping on some legendary stone could set her free, well in the end that was something worth dying for.

Without another word she left the men and retreated to the solitude of her room.  When she closed the door they began a whispered argument.  Her adrenaline fueled heart thumped so loudly that it was the only sound her ears could hear.  Her mind raced along with her pulse as she struggled to take deep breaths in an attempt to calm them both.  Eventually she regained control over her mind and body and was left with one surprising realization.  She was not afraid of the journey that lay before her, she was excited.  The bevy of conflicting emotions all melted down to that one dangerous feeling.  No matter what happened after today right now in this one moment of time she felt alive.

Come what may, whether she gained her freedom or lost her life right now she was alive and it felt good.  She held onto that thought as she packed, held onto it as she lulled herself to sleep, held onto it even as she dreamed of emerald shores and misty lore.