Unbound (21 page)

“Child,” he said with affection. “Be welcome in our
home.” Lifting shaking hands to my shoulders, he kissed me warmly on each cheek
and then, to my utter astonishment, kissed me full on the mouth. His lips
tasted like butterscotch.

Chortling with laughter, he turned to Eaden. “It’s
been ages since I kissed a pretty girl.”

Eaden rolled his eyes. “Sorry,” he mouthed
apologetically over the old man’s head.

“Come, be seated, young one,” Amerlyn said, patting my
cheek. “You’ve had quite an adventure, I’ve been told.”

Mara set the tray of food down on a low table and then
helped Amerlyn into the large leather armchair close to the fire. To my great
relief, Eaden sat beside me on the roomy cushion-strewn sofa on the other side
of the hearth. Throwing one arm around my shoulder along the back of the couch,
he kissed my hair and nuzzled his mouth close to my ear. “Relax,” he whispered.
His fingertips trailed lazily along my upper arm. Mara’s eyes rested briefly on
us in surprise.

As always, his touch and reassurance worked like magic
and some of my nervousness receded. These people knew Eaden, knew about him. It
was hard not worry about how they would react to my presence. By all accounts,
they might be the closest thing Eaden still had to family.

Once we had settled, Amerlyn reached to touch Mara’s
arm. “Thank you,
filia
. Can you take
care of the room before you go?”

She smiled affectionately at him. “Right, no problem.”
Closing her eyes, Mara chanted a string of words that I didn’t understand. It
may have only been a trick of the light, reflected from the fire in the hearth,
but her hair seemed to stir as if blown by a breeze. Even more unsettling, the
simple symbols and figures that wound up her arms appeared to writhe and dance
momentarily.

Opening her eyes, she nodded. “Done.”

Looking around, I saw no visible change, the room
looked totally unaltered. Catching my eye, Mara winked and sashayed out the
door.

Amerlyn took pity on me. “Mara has a talent for
listening – hearing voices at a great distance – which gives her
the means to block others from doing the same. We can speak freely here now and
no one will overhear.” Turning to Eaden, Amerlyn tilted his head slightly. “How
much does she know?”

Eaden glanced at me quickly, looked away. “Everything,
except what we began to discuss on the phone.” The words were bitter, as if he
wished they weren’t true.

Amerlyn threw him a shrewd glance. “You, of all people,
know better than to mistake caution for incompetence. Do not let fear and pride
color your perception of her, Eaden, she has more strength than you know.”

Eaden took the rebuke calmly, acknowledging the words
with a nod while I hurried to unravel their meaning, unsuccessfully for the
most part. Had he really meant to say I was strong?

Amerlyn met my eyes. “It will be important for you to
ask questions if you have them, young one, although we have little time for
lengthy explanations.”

Accepting my silent affirmation, he leaned back in his
chair and closed his eyes, as if weary. They stayed closed long enough that I’d
just begun to wonder if he may have fallen asleep when he opened them
again.
 
“The Council is deadlocked.
The Order has been enacted.” His voice was impassive.

I felt Eaden stiffen beside me. “When?”

“Last night,” Amerlyn replied. “But they will not
broadcast it to the
Bellators
until
this evening.”

Heeding my promise, I spoke up. “What does that mean?”

Eaden leaned forward to run a hand through his already
wild-looking hair. “It means that a decision has been put before the Council
and they’ve been unable to reach a majority vote. The Order is the Council’s
internal security service. Tonight the Council will send out the call that all
of us, all immortals, must immediately return to London. The Order will ensure
everyone does.”

“What are they voting on?” I asked.

Amerlyn paused and sighed. “They are voting on whether
to begin alterations of the
Mafte’ach
.”

Eaden looked defeated. “Is it Amun, then?”

Amerlyn nodded, frowning. “He now has everything he
needs now to make his case, both reason and resource.” The look he gave Eaden
was significant. “It’s time she knows.”

Eaden stood and walked towards the doors overlooking
the loch and stood for several moments, silently gazing out. His shoulders rose
slightly as his fist clenched and then with effort seemed to settle back into
place. Without turning around, he began speaking. “Amun is the leader behind
the faction I told you about, the ones who feel that mortals have become a
liability. He has been looking for a way to render mortals irrelevant to our
own existence. He believes the time has come for us to take power and step out
of the shadows completely.”

I tried to imagine how such a small number of individuals,
even powerful, all-knowing immortals such as the Council, would manage to
overthrow the world given the conflicts that raged between nations. “I thought
you said the Council was powerful because they were hidden. Do they want to
start a war?”

“They don’t mean to kill all mortals, Rachel.” His
voice was so low, I could barely hear him. “Only take away their autonomy. They
mean to use the power of the
Mafte’ach
to control the world.”

“But they can’t do that, can they?” I asked, thinking
of what Eaden had already explained to me. “You said immortals can only control
the minds of their own key…”

He turned away from the window to look at me. “That
was before they knew about you.”

My thoughts spun away from me and I tried to reel them
in. Me? I heard Sabas’s words replay in my head:
You telegraph nicely
. Sabas could control me, Sabas was my match
too. I found it hard to swallow. “Does that mean I’m a match for all of you?” I
whispered.

Eaden only stared back at me. His eyes were haunted.

It was Amerlyn who answered. “Unfortunately it does
seem so, child. Since your arrival in Scotland, I have been contacted by four
other immortals within close enough range. They, too, have felt your call and
have said it’s growing stronger.” He glanced at Eaden. “Stuart was aware of her
as well.”

Amerlyn read the panicked look in my eyes. “Do not
fear, young one. Not all immortals are as eager to end their existence as
Sabas.
 
The ones I have spoken to
are men whose philosophies are in line with our own. However…” he looked
saddened, “the Council is aware of you now, and your existence has implications
beyond what Eaden had in mind when he renounced his claim on you.”

“What do they want with me?” I struggled to regulate
my breathing. Above all, I did not want to sound frightened, guessing the
impact this might have on Eaden.

“You are a genetic anomaly, but one that might be
duplicated. The Council would use your stem cells, the neurochemical basis of
immortals and
Mafte’ach
alike, to
replicate you. This would mean a new breed of
Mafte’ach
, perhaps even an entire civilization of mortals who would
be responsive to the thoughts of the Ancient ones.”

“Is that even possible?” I had never done that well in
the sciences, but I was pretty sure that level of genetic manipulation was
rare. “Can anyone actually do that sort of thing?”

Amerlyn met my eyes. “I can. And I taught them how.”

Eaden walked over to Amerlyn and rested a hand on his
shoulder. “This is not your fault,
mo
bráthair.
You aren’t responsible for the brutality of
Amun, or those who would follow him.”

Amerlyn
shook his head sadly. “Do not absolve me so easily, Eaden. I created the tools
by which they might eradicate the world as we know it, so I also bear responsibility
for our current circumstances.”

My
eyes locked on Amerlyn’s, understanding hastening to catch up with the speed of
disclosure. “It was you. You found the solution. You are the one who created
the keys. The
Mafte’ach
.”

“Yes,
child, I engineered the first match between mortals and Ancients. I know it
will seem cruel to you, but you must also understand that the Council of
Ancients have done much to enhance the life of mortals – and that has
been no easy task. At the time, with the knowledge available to me, it seemed
an acceptable exchange to end the suffering of those immortals who had worked
to keep order and minimize chaos in your world.”

“You
made us so they could die.” I looked at Eaden, but he would not meet my gaze. I
could understand this, if not condone it. Didn’t we use animals, kill animals,
for our own survival? For the betterment of our own species? Hell, we used
animals for far less noble reasons. We used animals to test makeup and food
additives so that chemically loaded brownies could sit on the shelf of the
grocery store for a year and not grow mouldy. It’s just that I had never imagined
what it might be like to be the lab rat sacrificed for the benefit of others.
 
Benefits that would have nothing to do
with my race.

“Why
now? Why do immortals want more than what they’ve had?” I struggled to imagine
how long they had been behind the curtain, waiting in the shadows.

Amerlyn
eyed me sadly. “As you know child, absolute power corrupts absolutely. Even the
Council has fallen prey to the flaws that your own race has – greed,
ambition, ego. They have all contaminated the Ancients as surely as they have
contaminated any ruling power throughout history, no matter how well
intentioned. They want more because it has become possible for them to have
more.”

Although
it was taking some time to sink in, slowly the dots were connecting. The
Council wanted to use my stem cells to breed others like me, other mortals who
could be silenced, or manipulated, or sacrificed.

“Then
I need to hide, so they can’t find me,” I said standing. “I won’t be a part of
this.”

Eaden
moved to stand beside me, hovering protectively as if I were about to bolt. His
hand clamped down on my wrist.

Amerlyn
sighed. “It’s not that easy, I’m afraid. You are sending out a signal now, like
a beacon. They will find you, no matter where you go.”

I
looked back and forth between Amerlyn and Eaden. I thought of the world I knew,
the lives of those I loved, the future of their children. With more bravery
than I felt, I forced myself to speak the words that seemed to suggest our only
alternative. “Then, maybe it would be better if there was nothing to find.”

Muttering
some unintelligible Gaelic oath, Eaden pulled me against him, speaking fiercely
in another language to Amerlyn; his hand tightened on my forearm so hard I felt
the bones rub.

Amerlyn
raised a hand to pacify him. “No, dear friend, do not panic, we will not let
her go so easily, nor will we let her be taken from us without a fight. We
still have a few resources left to us.”

He
began to struggle to his feet and before Eaden or I could move to assist him,
the door opened and Mara ambled in as if beckoned. She politely offered her
tattooed arm to him and rolled her eyes at Eaden, who still held me closely in
a protective embrace.
 
“Get a room
already.”

Amerlyn
laughed heartily, breaking the tension that was thick in the room. “I adore you,
child.” He smiled at Mara. “Have you done what I asked?”

“Yes,
we’re ready to go,” she said, supporting him as he stood slowly, stiff from
sitting.

My
shoulders slumped.
Go?
We were going
somewhere, again?
I felt as if I had
done nothing but travel for days on end and I wanted nothing more than a soft
bed. I looked questioningly at Eaden, trying to understand what was next.

But
he didn’t know, either. He looked at Mara. “Where?” Something in his voice made
me feel as if he were afraid he already knew the answer.

Mara
answered, slowly leading Amerlyn from the cushioned room. She smiled at Eaden
as if sharing a private joke. “We’re going to Nanog, Eaden. I’m taking Rachel
to meet my sisters.”

Walking
past him, she suddenly whirled so quickly her movements blurred. Eaden had
already let go of me and taken a step back as her fist swung through the empty
space his shoulder had occupied moments before.

He
shook his head and frowned. “Now, Mara? Really?”

Her
laughter echoed back into the room as she walked Amerlyn down the hallway and
out the front door.

When
we got outside, we didn’t head towards the car as I had expected. Instead,
Eaden led me towards the green paddock beside the stone cottage. Although he’d
barely let go of me since I’d recklessly offered myself up as a sacrifice, he’d
said very little. Hand in hand, we walked silently behind Mara and Amerlyn
towards the three horses that had been saddled, as if for a journey. The
largest horse, the glossy black I’d seen as we drove in, had been outfitted
with a pannier that bulged at the sides.

“We’re
riding?” I asked, incredulous. I felt like I was drifting farther and farther
away from the world I knew. A world in which immortals and witches didn’t exist
outside of storybooks, and people walked or drove to get from one place to the
other, or at least travelled on airplanes that landed at official airports.
Maddeningly uncommunicative, Eaden nodded and swung me up onto a placid-looking
horse with a silky chestnut mane. Like the last time we rode together, Eaden
sat in front of me, and I wrapped my arms around his waist to keep myself in
place. Expecting Mara and Amerlyn to ride together, I was amazed when the old
man deftly swung himself up onto the back of the grey mare from Mara’s cupped
hand. Head up, shoulders back, he seemed almost spry. Mara all but vaulted onto
the black monster, her long black hair a perfect match for the horse’s sleek
coat. With a click of her tongue, Mara led us through the stone gate and
towards the rolling hills in the distance.

By
all accounts, the path we took could barely be called a path. Instead we seemed
to be following a series of connecting landmarks that, for Mara anyways
indicated we were going in the right direction. The rocky ground slowed the
horses down considerably and the daylight faded to a murky grey as the sun
began to set somewhere behind the thick clouds that blanketed the sky. It was
hard to tell that anything else even existed here, as we climbed, the landscape
was so desolate I could have been on another planet and felt more familiar with
my surroundings. The clopping of the horses’ hooves occasionally echoed off
exposed rock, interrupting the silence that felt as thick and heavy as a lead
apron.

Despite
the fact that he held the reins loosely in one hand, I could tell by Eaden’s
rigid posture that he was on high alert, listening for any sign of menace that
we knew could not be far away. A fine mist that was almost a drizzle swirled
down from the sky and seemed to hang between the rocks and scrubby bushes
cluttering the ground beneath the horses’ feet, effectively obscuring whatever
trail might have existed. Mara and Amerlyn were now only impressions in the
murky light ahead of us, becoming fainter and fainter as the last of the daylight
receded. Hours may have passed, but with nothing to mark them, I lost all sense
of time. Instead, deprived of sight and with little sound, my mind hopped back
and forth between past and present. From the here and now, to the safe and
then.

I
saw Lacey and I on the sparse, half-trampled field belonging to our elementary
playground, walking the perimeter of the fence with our hands stuck in our coat
pockets to ward off the chill of a late November day, talking of the dreams
we’d had the night before.

I
saw my father, reclined in his worn leather chair; book in one hand, a cup of
tea in the other, reading on a Sunday afternoon. One of my mother’s cats
sleeping at his feet.

I
saw my grandmother teaching me the rules of euchre and the importance of the bower
on a Friday night, the light of the kitchen a harsh shade of yellow on the
glare of the glossy cards, while my mother slept fitfully on the couch in the
living room,

And
then I was back in the mist, hands clasped around Eaden’s waist, listening to
the steady beat of his heart and the occasional huff from the horses.

It
was only when I realized that I was leaning forward that I understood we were
climbing steadily now. Our progress slowed further as the slope steepened and
the horses had to pick their way carefully upwards through the uneven terrain.
Immensely grateful that no one had expected me to ride my own horse, I squeezed
my eyes closed, heedless that it was so murky I couldn’t see anything anyway.
Eaden reached behind me with his free hand to rub my leg, likely able to feel
the rapid beating of my heart as my panic escalated.

Hugging
him tighter, I felt enormously grateful for his enduring patience with me in
that moment. Even Lacey, who had staunchly supported me without fail for most
of my life, couldn’t help but occasionally voice her irritation at the
irrational nature of my fears. To be fair to her, most teenagers didn’t spend
their time worrying about global economic failure or contracting some super-resilient
viral infection from the streetcar. It was not always easy being my friend.

But
from the first time we met, Eaden had shown me only compassion, never failing
to reassure me and yet convey confidence in my ability to tolerate my uneasy
emotional experiences. Oddly, despite understanding that my current
circumstances were more dangerous, more alarming, than any other situation I’d
ever been in, my anxiety was less intense. It was as if knowing my fears were
legitimate had made them easier to manage. As if giving them a right to exist
had lessened the stranglehold they had on me. With these morbidly heartening
thoughts to bolster me, the inevitable descent down the rocky hill was less
distressing than our climb. Although I felt a hint of vertigo leaning back into
the empty space behind me to counterbalance, I was actually fairly confident my
panic would ebb.

The
silence grew more pronounced and the moonless, starless sky seemed to deaden
the sounds of our progress down the other side of the slope. As we reached
level ground again, lights began to flicker and disappear on the horizon
– like stars stared at directly, until they eventually steadied into
pulsing points of illumination, recognizable as flames.

Dark
shadows in the night revealed themselves as stony walls and I realized we were
approaching an imposing structure, ringed by torches on the ground as well as
on the upper level, where a wide balcony jutted out and wrapped itself around
the outer walls. Closer, dim shapes I suspected were people became visible in
the distance and brief echoes of voices drifted towards us, unintelligible in
content, but recognizable as speech. Glancing up in the swaying saddle, I was
surprised to see that the night sky was suddenly full of stars, no moon in
sight.

Visible
again, Mara and Amerlyn slowed and stopped well before the tall iron gates that
protected the property. We were in front of what could only be described as a
stone castle, with two bulky rock turrets that flanked the peaked roof, and formidable
rough hewn walls decorated with narrow rectangular windows. In the darkness it
looked ancient and impenetrable, something to be read about in history books;
not stand in front of on a chilly autumn’s eve.

Mara
dismounted effortlessly and then supported Amerlyn as he did the same.

“They
know we’re here,” she said, looking pointedly in Eaden’s direction. “Sannah is
coming to greet us.”

Eaden
quickly swung off the horse that had carried us over the Ben, but with a hand
on my leg, shook his head when I motioned to get down. “Wait,” he said, his
voice thick with caution.

I
counted seven women in the group that strode towards us, their long hair
cascading over the shoulders of the identical grey cloaks they wore; protection
against the chill of the evening. Stopping a few feet away from the closed
gate, they waited with unsmiling, indifferent eyes in the torchlight.

A
tall woman who had walked at the back of the ensemble approached the iron bars
and the others stepped back to let her through, her wild auburn hair closely
resembling the flames that danced from the torches, her intense cerulean eyes
flashing with authority.

“Who
seeks the sanction of the Sisters of Cailleach?” Her words had an air of
formality and ritual, of long traditions that were enacted to preserve a way of
life that no longer existed.

“
Feasgar math
, Sannah.” Mara inclined her
head, her countenance as serious as I’d seen from her all day.

“Good
evening, Mara.” Sannah’s voice was serene. “We were not expecting you. Who do
you bring with you to
Tír na nÓg
?”

Mara
gestured behind herself without looking. “I seek entry for Amerlyn Ambrosius,
Sir Eaden James MacAlister, and Rachel Leah Dawes, a mortal female.”

A
startled buzz erupted from the group of women who stood behind the wrought iron
gate, but Sannah merely raised an eyebrow and with a small gesture, the heavy
metal gates opened towards us, driven by some unseen hand.

She
waited patiently as Mara approached, dropped to her knees and kissed her hand,
before floating past her towards Amerlyn. Kissing him lightly on both cheeks,
she smiled in greeting. “Be welcome, grandfather,” she said softly.
 

Amerlyn
beamed.

Turning
towards Eaden, Sannah’s face lit with a mischievous smirk as she gazed at him,
her hand extended gracefully in his direction. Dropping quickly to one knee, he
bowed his head, his mouth grazing her knuckles before looking up to meet her
direct stare. She inclined her head and laughter twinkled up towards the cold,
hard light of the stars.

“Gracious
as ever, aren’t you, Eaden?” she said coolly, although her intense eyes seemed
to be giving him a much more intimate welcome. “We have not seen you in such a
very long time, you have been missed.” She touched his chin, indicating he
could rise; her touch more of a caress, like a lover remembering the feel of
someone long absent.

Within me, something stirred, roused as much by the
intimacy of her gesture as by the way she continued to hold him in her gaze. A
small tremble in my stomach sent stinging venom through my veins. Like an itch
beneath the surface of my skin, my irritation spread until my limbs trembled
with discomfort.

Rising
to his feet, Eaden’s response to her greeting was formal and courteous. “It is
always a great pleasure to be among the Sisters of Cailleach, Lady. The grace
and beauty found within these walls is unparalleled, but with one exception.”
He glanced significantly behind him to where I sat, feeling more like a child
on a pony ride than anything gracious or beautiful.
 

Sannah’s
smile wavered and dimmed perceptibly as she was forced to look up at me.

“So,
it is true.” She studied me curiously. “I’d been told as much, yet really had
to see it with my own eyes before I would believe it.”

Emboldened
by the fire coursing through my nervous system, I stared back, keeping my head
high and matching her indifferent gaze, glare for glare. But my frosty exterior
hid a seething mass of anger. I was staring at my rival and my own personal,
baby green-eyed monster had just woken up from a very long nap.

Eye
to eye, we were as still as stone until, after several moments, she nodded
slightly. For the briefest of seconds her arrogance slipped away and was
replaced by vulnerability, by sadness. “You may surprise us all,” she said.
Turning her back on me, she addressed the group of women waiting. “Please
welcome our friends.”

Without
looking back at Eaden, she strode towards the dark stone tower.

Her
departure seemed to signal the end of the formalized proceedings because
instantly the six young women who were left relaxed and began talking among
themselves quietly. A few of them approached Mara and took turns hugging her in
welcome. With Sannah’s absence the sisters seemed no different than girls my
own age, albeit with eyes that bore more resemblance to the colours in a Monet
painting than anything I’d seen before.

Catching
me around the waist easily with two hands, Eaden swung me down from the saddle.
It was only then that I realized how badly I was damaged; my thighs and
backside burned and ached simultaneously. I bit my lip to keep from groaning
out loud, not wanting to draw any more attention to myself.

Eaden’s
smile was apologetic. I understood now that he’d been hoping to avoid a meeting
between Sannah and myself, that he’d wanted to shield me from a past that they
had obviously shared at some point. I smiled back and, stretching up on tiptoes,
kissed his cheek, hoping it conveyed everything I meant it to. That I was okay.
That I could handle this, too, as – astonishingly – I seemed to be
handling everything else.

He
brought his large palm up, cupped the back of my head and sighed slightly. “You
are more than I deserve,
mo cridhe
.
Will you go with Mara?
 
I’ll meet
you inside.” He kissed my forehead, holding his lips there for a moment and
then, with visible regret, moved away to unsaddle the horses.

Mara
beckoned me with her finger and I went to join her as she walked along the
rocky path that led to the towering castle. Another sister fell into step
beside us, her long black dreadlocks bouncing as she walked. Mara motioned
towards her. “Rachel, this is Elora,” she said and moved her hand in an
impatient gesture I guessed was meant to complete the introduction.

Evidently,
Elora knew Mara very well because she laughed out loud at this. “Welcome,
Rachel, it’s a pleasure to meet you. You’ve caused something of a stir at
Nanog.”