TRUE (A Fire Born Novel Book 3) Page 3

  "Gentlemen." I was only slightly surprised to find that my voice wasn't exactly my own, there was a regality to it, an otherworldly, older timbre that existed in an earlier time. "This is where I leave you."

  The sentry on my left blanched, the color fleeing from his already paled cheeks. "My Lady—you are not well."

  "That's an order. The rest I do alone." Staring him straight in the face, my words were strong, and didn't waver.

  With a bow, and a sigh that wasn't well masked, he stepped back, the guard on my right following in turn.

  Walking closer to the Shadow Realm gates, I kept my focus on one thing. One innocent thing that kept my blood boiling, my feet moving, and my mind clear. The one thing that had to come first: Cara.

  "One of you return to the Otherworld," I said. "Guard the Realm from what will come."

  "My Lady?"

  "Raise the alarm." I placed a hand on the rusted and ancient scrolling metal of the Underworld gates. "Call on Queen Asrai. And remember to protect the Dryads." The gates disintegrated under my touch—an Ancient's touch—and heat warmed my bones. MacCoinnich is inside the castle, a distant voice said in my thoughts. Max.

  With a quick glance over my shoulder toward the Guard, I said, "One of you remain here. I'm sending someone. See that she traverses to the Underground safely, and then you may resume your post here. When all of this is over, the battle is won or lost, what is left of the Fomore will come. Everyone must be ready."

  The towering gates ground back into place behind me, as the Guard held their ground, and my periphery locked onto something approaching from my left across a barren stretch of yellowed land at great speed. My escort, I assumed. I smiled as fire rose under my palms, a sensation I relished, had missed. Checking my right side from the corner of my eye, another figure rushed toward me. Two more stepped into view through the gloom like specters, and I was sure, although I did not adjust my position to check, that someone was behind me as well. So much for a warm welcome under Elethan's invitation.

  Walking slowly forward, I allowed the circle of guardsmen to tighten, faded black cloaks sweeping the dusty ground, hoods raised, covering heads that resembled melted wax. Only a few yards separated us in a perfect radius as they approached, aged-looking sword hilts protruding from worn leather scabbards at their waists.

  I breathed in the chalky air, rejoicing in it filling my lungs. “Gentlemen. I am here for my cousin."

  Their eyes narrowed, cautious glances roaming my neck and chest, both splashed with blooms of scarlet.

  “It seems we've come to a crossroads," I said when no one spoke. "I don't have to harm any of you.”

  Their solid black eyes remained fixed.

  "Ní dóigh liom go bhfuil a dochar a dhéanamh aon cheann de tú." I repeated my last words in Irish.

  They laughed. "Dochar a dhéanamh linn?" Harm us? The larger of the creatures, spoke. "Breathnú thart. Tá tú uimhrithe amach." Look around. You are outnumbered.

  I grinned and cleared my throat with a cough that was only slightly painful. "Mo botún." My mistake. The warmth of blood seeped underneath my finger nails as my fists tightened, cutting into the soft flesh of my palms, fire simmering just below the surface of my skin.

  They all laughed again, continuing to speak in Irish. “It’s too bad we have to kill your cousin." The guard gestured toward the castle behind him. " … might be amusing to keep her around, just to see what you would do to save her. You are covered in blood, doubt you'd last long,” the largest guard said. “We have orders to follow, though. Nothing personal. You understand.”

  “I understand you took a child, my cousin, against her will, from her home.” The words had barely left my mouth before my hands opened, and the two guards on either side of me were blown off their feet, consumed in balls of fire. Screaming, they tried to flee the flames. “It's nothing personal,” I said over the roar, holding the guard's hard stare. "You understand."

  The creature stood still, eyes wide.

  "You have something that doesn't belong to you." The dusty, yellow ground cracked, splitting into sections like spokes of a wheel, and stretched outward in a circle from where I stood, centered in its midst. The faults expanded, fiery plumes rising into the air. "I will destroy everything and everyone who stands between me and Cara.” My vision bled from red to black, pulse thumping in time to the beat of my racing heart as if it had been dying to pump again, dying for oxygen and blood.

  Cracks in the earth opened at my back, and a third guard lost his footing and slipped, clinging to the edge. Feet dangling, he screamed as the molten depths threatened to swallow him. A chasm cracked open in front of the leader's feet.

  I smiled, blood pounding like a drum in my temples. “I will allow you and your companion to live if you send word to the King that I will accept his terms of Battle, come willingly into your midst, on one condition: he releases Cara. Unharmed. Tell him I wish to make a deal. No deal, no Battle. If he does not release my cousin, his entire Realm will go down in flames by my hand. I would rather not kill the innocent.” I turned, walking back toward the castle gates through a haze of smoke and fire.

  "You are not the same girl," the guard said.

  I glanced back over my shoulder.

  "Not the girl King Elethan sent for." His black eyes narrowed. "It has been many millennia, and you look slightly different—your eyes mostly—but I remember you."

  I turned all the way around, facing him directly.

  "It was said that you could never reclaim your former strength and return from the grave." His tone softened. "They said your power was gone. Faded into nothing. That your true self could never be reborn from the ashes of old."

  "And you believed them?"

  "I have never believed them." He kneeled to the ground, and the guard beside him scrambled up covered in soot and ash and did the same. "I will send word to the King that the last descendant of the Morrigan is at the gates." He remained bowed on one knee. "That the Legend has come to fruition. The successor of the Triple Goddesses has risen. The true wielder of the flame."

  4

  MAX

  Screams rang in the distance. I sat perched in the castle's turret watching as smoke spiraled into the grey-red sky followed by a wall of flames. Popping to my feet, I leaned over the battlement. The Shadow Realm gates remained closed, far enough away from my position on the Fomore castle's roof for me to remain unseen, but too close all the same. Any chance I took to see Layla was too great a risk, but I couldn't stop myself. I had to see her. Needed to see her.

  With an earsplitting creak, the massive doors of the Keep opened below, the steady rubbing of heavy wood against the ground emitting clouds of dust into the air. Several guards emerged from the castle and ran toward the blaze.

  Squinting to see through the smoke in the distance, I made out blonde hair blowing in the wind, and my breathing stopped.

  More guards flooded out of the main entrance of the Keep, and I forced myself from catapulting off the turret and racing down to the stretch of barren, snowy wasteland. I couldn't expose myself, or behave like I had any inkling something might be wrong, that I even cared if there was, but it took every ounce of willpower I possessed to stay where I was.

  Shouts rang out. Guards yelled in their usual unintelligible Irish, and a second later, Elethan walked out of the Keep, dark robes billowing behind him like a cape. I eased under the shadow of the turret, but not before Cara walked out of the castle doors behind the King, a Fomorian guard on either side of her as though her little ten year old self might fight them off. Unbeknownst to anyone, Sam and I had already devised a plan to get Cara home, and I'd made sure, doubly sure, that she had remained safe. Better than safe—good—over the last day that she'd been in the castle. One of the advantages of the housemaids liking me so much.

  Through the smoke, Layla approached the Keep, walking toward the King. Head held high, shoulders squared, her entire stature was off—and it wasn't because she'd come into the bowels of hell
to face off with me, either. Something about her was wrong. Leaning out of the shadows, I refocused, making sure I was seeing correctly. A bloody gash cut across her neck. Scarlet stained her shirt, her chest, both hands.

  I jumped off the turret.

  As Elethan greeted his guest in the middle of the wasteland, I sought shaded cover against the castle wall. He met Layla as though they were old friends who had decided to have dinner together. The disarming smile I knew well graced his face, but Layla stood motionless, eerily still, upon his greeting, not shaking his hand when he offered it to her. From my vantage on the ground, her facial expression was hard, and her posture, coupled with the greying off-color of her skin, reminded me of plate armor. Under the gloomy skies, her skin seemed to glint and shift every time she moved. Like a marble statue catching sunlight.

  Two Fomore guards brought Cara forward, a meaty hand on each arm. She hesitated slightly before walking up and taking Layla's hand in her own. With a nod, Layla said a few words to the King, which he seemed to agree with, and she turned, walking Cara back through the smoke toward the Underworld gates. I found myself sealed against the castle's stone wall, unable to make myself go back inside as they disappeared into the smoke streams.

  Elethan stood his ground, as did all the guardsmen, and to my shock, Layla appeared again—alone—and it hit me. She'd made a deal. A deal to save Cara. I had no idea how she'd done it, what she'd agreed to, or what my father had said, but my stomach sank at the thought.

  As the smoke began to clear, two Tuatha Dé guards entered through the Shadow Realm gates in the distance, dressed in their white uniforms, the World of Light crest sewn over their chests. Coming to stand on either side of Layla, each sentry held her by the arm, and I realized she wasn't moving properly anymore. It was as if all the fight had drained out of her. She walked toward the castle gates in Elethan's wake, and there was an off-kilter motion that reminded me of someone who didn't know how to use their legs. Holding her upright like puppeteers, the Guard steered her forward, one of them going as far as to touch the back of her knee with his own, spurring her on. My fists clenched tight.

  What happened?

  She was wholly unsteady on her feet as they continued. Dancers were never unsteady. Unless they were sick or maybe tired. Scooting farther down the wall, staying hidden by shadows, I wanted to run to her, make sure she was okay, find out what happened, tell her I was sorry, tell her a million things, but staring at her, I could see that everything about her was wrong. I had no idea what had happened—or what the Morrigan had done—because the person across the grounds from me was someone not of this Earth. Not of this time. Layla, but not Layla. It chilled me to the bone.

  Her lips curled into a slight grin, eyes gleaming, one too light, as her gaze caught mine, across the gloom, as if she'd known I'd been standing there all along. A voice chimed inside my head. So familiar yet so distant, it struck me cold.

  "By the raging winds caged inside of you, and the Demon blood coursing through your veins, you must try to destroy me, and I you, by the poisonous grip of the Morrigan's hand around my throat, and the flames within my heart that smolder only for you and never die."

  In shock, I tried to say something—anything, but all that came out was, "I ..."

  "Our Ties are never Torn, my love."

  She passed me, her gaze returning toward the castle's entrance as she followed Elethan and disappeared into the bowels of the Keep.

  What just happened? Dumbfounded and speechless, I watched the doors grind back into place against the dusty earth, my heartbeat racing, unable to catch my breath. Why is she talking like that? Like someone ... else.

  *****

  "You're not making this any easier on yourself, you know?"

  I turned, recognizing Sam's voice and footfall scuffing the ground behind me.

  "What the hell happened to you?" His gaze traced my face. "You see a ghost?"

  My pulse throbbed in my temples. "Nothing happened, besides the fact that you're like a shadow I can't shake."

  He grinned. "We all have our talents."

  "Are you watching over me?" I walked toward the castle doors. "Is that how your specific talent works?"

  "You know that's how it works." Sam put his hands in his pockets, coming up beside me. "Elethan's not stupid. He's keeping you under watch."

  "Of course he is." Like I didn't know that.

  "Not like this is any fun for me, either," Sam said. "Following your sulking ass around. What are you doing out here?"

  "Sulking." I pulled the heavy doors open and entered the Keep. "So, you found me." I held my arms open wide. "Now what?"

  With a smirk, he said, "I've got some weapons set up down in the yard. Elethan wants you to learn to use them."

  "Do you know where they're holding Layla?" I headed through the wide entry, trying to get the vision of what she'd looked like—covered in blood and distinctly off—out of my head.

  "Third floor," Sam said.

  Our footsteps clapped off the hard stone and echoed throughout the massive great room. Roaring fires blazed in hearths on the outer edges of the oblong room. The usual Fomorian guards stood near the winding stone staircase, and I wondered how far Layla had gotten toward where they would be keeping her. If she'd made it up the stairs without falling on all the loose stones. I was desperate to glance up toward the cells lining the second floor overhang but retained my forward focus, gazing on the floor in front of me. My charcoal robes swept the ground at my feet, long sleeves and high collar covering the worst of the Ogham tendrils wrapping my arms and throat, and hiding the eternity bracelets winding my bicep.

  The bracelets kept me focused like nothing else could. Kept me grounded and moving forward. Reminded me why I was doing everything I was doing. It would do no good for Layla to see me again. Not yet. She already believed I was a monster. I'd played my part well when she'd seen me in the castle days before with Sam and Ana, and I wasn't so sure I could play that part as well a second time if it came to it. Especially considering the way she'd looked at me just before she'd entered the castle with Elethan—the way her voice sounded. What she'd said. Like she was someone else. Someone who didn't seem mad or worried or concerned, but ... stately. As if she simply had a job to do, and the slash on her neck ... blood covering her clothes, the unsteadiness of her steps, was no big deal.

  Cloudy skies greeted me as Sam and I exited the castle onto a large back field off of the kitchen. A pile of rusted metal sat in the distance.

  "I must be completely out of my mind to think this is going to work." Dragging a hand through my hair, I pushed it off my forehead as we approached a pitiful assortment of spears and swords that appeared like they were from the Middle Ages. Likely that was the case.

  "Out of your mind or not, I don't see you having much of a choice anymore." Sam tossed me a spear from the top of the stack.

  I caught it and shoved it point first into the dirt near my foot, having no desire to do anything with it.

  "We have a slight problem." He lifted a brow. "I heard Justice is coming." Sam gave an uncomfortable grin. "To be with Layla."

  "With? Excuse me?" My hand gripped the spear handle, blood heating the poison in my veins, fueling the odd combination of hostility and indifference I'd felt since being stabbed and injected with poison.

  Sam sighed. "Not like that, you idiot. And I don't know what he knows, if anything, or if Benny even got to him before he got here ... I haven't heard from her, yet, so ..." He shrugged. "But given the timing between his arrival and Layla's, I'm doubting Benny spoke to him."

  I shook my head, the information not settling on anything rational in my brain. "So, are you going to fill him in?"

  "Too risky. Elethan has every one on a watch. I can't just walk up to Justice and start explaining that you're still the same good 'ol Max he believes you are. If he doesn't know, then he's out of the plan." Sam let out breath. "Which isn't good on lots of levels. Don't think for a second he won't come after you if you
go after Layla."

  "When." I stared at the ground. "You mean when I go after Layla. There's no 'if.'"

  "Yeah, when. You think you can take Justice on?"

  I didn't answer, didn't even look up. That was close to the last thing I ever wanted to do. Close.

  "And about that ..." Sam went on. "Justice is here to train her."

  "Train her?"

  "Yep." He reached for a long sword, gripping it in his hand. "This bothers you because you think Layla can beat you with his help or ...?" He laughed.

  "This isn't about her beating me. You know that." I ground my teeth together, temples throbbing. It bothers me that something is clearly wrong with her! "It bothers me because every time I turn around, Justice is with her." I yanked the spear out of the ground and chucked it across the barren field. "It bothers me because she believes I'm a freaking Demon God!" And I'm starting to feel like one! I grabbed another spear from the rusty stack of weapons near Sam's feet. "And the reason that bothers me, besides the obvious, is that Justice isn't a Demon God. He is a freaking angel! And he didn't betray her." I threw the spear across the field, and it sunk into the ground, parallel to the other one. "I did." Turning around, I left Sam standing on the barren stretch of land.

  "Max," he called out behind me. "Betrayal is a little harsh. Try to keep in mind why you're doing all of this."

  "That's all I'm keeping in mind." I kept walking, not turning to face him. "It doesn't make it any easier."

  "Maybe you shouldn't yell so loud?"

  "Maybe you should shut up for once."

  Sam laughed, and I rounded the edge of the field and entered the castle through the kitchen.

  Pots of all varieties and conditions hung from the soaring ceiling, and fires raged in hearths and underneath stove grates, giving the large space an orange glow and a sweltering heat.

  "Master MacKenzie, are you hungry?" one of the ladies in the kitchen, whom I had grown fond of, asked. Her grey hair was pinned up in a neat bun on her head, her round belly wrapped in a white apron. "I have pie. Your favorite."