Xander's Folly Read online

  "I can only tell you this—she told him the time and means of his own death, and he killed her for it." The old Sidhe shook her head. "Though perhaps her murder was inevitable once he had captured her."

  We sat in silence for a long moment. The story held such carnage that it was hard to know what to say or how to feel. Deirdre sipped her tea and rocked in her chair, giving us time to digest our thoughts. She placed her empty cup back on the table before she continued.

  "As I said, he faltered. He lost confidence, lost his momentum. Eventually he lost the war. Your grandmother—a hero to her people—gave us the ability to put down his rebellion, though we didn't get to Deaglan himself. Your mother, overwhelmed with grief, fled into the Human World. She had lost so much of her family, but losing her mother hit her most cruelly."

  "But she returned. You said so after the trial," Alexander said.

  "Aye, she came back briefly. Something had panicked her. She wouldn't say what it was. It could have been a premonition; she said she had been having a series of them. Some of them had to do with her son—you—and she was doing her best to lay the way and make sure the outcome was to your advantage."

  "She left when I was seven years old. A few months ago I learned that she went to see Órlaith, Tressa's grandmother. Now you're saying she came here."

  "Aye, the sweet girl came to tell me that I would live to see Nuada's sword. She grew up here in Tir na nÓg and had spent much time with me in her youth. She knew how dearly I wanted the treasures to be found in my lifetime." The old woman turned inward, remembering times gone by.

  "Did she tell you where she was going when she left you?" Alexander interrupted her reverie.

  "Aye. Back home—to the Human World."

  "She never got there. I never saw her again." Alexander took a deep, sad breath. "My father and I believed… Well I guess I can't say what my father believed, but after so many years I thought she was dead. Did she say anything else?"

  The old woman was silent for a moment then shook her head.

  "She said she was going home… Oh, aye, there was something else. She asked me to tell you that she'll be waiting for you at the folly. Does that mean something to you?"

  "Not a thing," Alexander said, grimacing and shaking his head.

  After Deirdre's sobering story, Alexander nearly forgot that he had asked about the castle's basement. I reminded him when we returned to the castle and we went to find Shamus. The old Brounie tut tutted, shaking his head when we posed our question.

  "Surely you know the Royal Library is housed in the basement," he said. I continued to stare at him blankly. "The national archives? Books and records dating back... forever."

  "Can you take us there?" Alexander asked.

  Shamus led us down a long staircase, carved out of the bedrock, which led to the basement. He fussed about my ignorance regarding the library the entire way.

  Despite being underground, the air felt cool and dry on my skin. The bedrock had strands of Tóirse Stone running through it, which illuminated the staircase, negating the need for any other lighting. A large wooden double door, reinforced with metal, guarded the entrance to the library. Shamus took an oversized key out of his pocket and unlocked the doors.

  "I'm going now," Shamus said, "back to Pine Ridge to prepare for your return. You leave tomorrow, aye?" I nodded, and he continued. "One of the other Brounies will lock up after you."

  We thanked him, entering the library as he retreated up the stairs. Rows of ceiling-high bookshelves lined both sides of the room, extending back as far as I could see. Tables and chairs, placed between the lines of the shelves, divided the room in half. The smell of old wood and leather permeated the air.

  "Now what?" I asked.

  "I don't really know. Let's look around," Alexander said.

  I went down one side while he went down the other. After a half hour of browsing, I came to a section devoted to reading auras and interpreting the condition of the soul. Understanding the nuances between auras was proving to be difficult. It hadn't occurred to me that there could be research to help me.

  I ran my finger along the spines of the books, trying to decide where to start. The amount of information available was overwhelming. We wouldn't be in Tir na nÓg long enough for me to read even a few of these books. Perhaps I could ask permission to take one or two volumes with me.

  I took down the most worn books first, using the logic that they must be the best ones if they were the most read. I carried three of them to the nearest table.

  Alexander wandered through the library, stopping to look at a book here and there. He had gotten further down his side of the room than I had.

  I assumed that if he wanted me, he would see me easily enough. I turned my focus to a book with the leather cover nearly worn off with use and flipped through the pages. This volume had some fascinating pictures illustrating different auras.

  I was poring over the pictures when Alexander joined me, a small red leather-bound book in hand. He laid it before me, open to the middle.

  "I think this is what I was meant to find," he said. "It's a book on Sidhe lore. It has a section on each of the treasures with oaths and prophecies that pertain to each one—including the Claíomh Solais." He pointed to the page that lay open. "Here's the Prophecy of the King's Jewel. You recited it to me, but this is the first time I've seen it written."

  "Aye," I said, wondering where this was going.

  "Don't you think this is open to many interpretations?"

  "What do you mean? The Sidhe interpreted it thousands of years ago."

  "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but for example the line 'Mother of the rebirth of the Sidhe.' They've taken the word Mother literally, probably because the next stanza speaks of a child. But 'mother of' could mean the creator of, or nurturer of, or instigator of. I mean, there are endless possibilities. For that matter, the child in the second stanza doesn't have to be a literal child."

  I closed my book and pushed it aside. I rubbed my eyes, not wanting to discuss this after days of being gawked at constantly for this very reason. "I don't understand what you're saying."

  "I'm just wondering if the prophecy actually has anything to do with you literally being a mother. Aren't prophecies usually filled with symbolism and stuff like that? They taught you that your child is the key, when maybe it's you yourself—your actions—that will fulfill the prophecy."

  I leaned forward to read the words myself, though I had memorized them long ago.

  Look to The King's Jewel

  The fifth treasure of her people.

  A youngest child of the youngest child-

  Mother of the rebirth of the Sidhe

  Nuada's strength and fidelity will be her ally.

  A new beginning shall come

  When the four treasures come home.

  Oh lost child, oh blessed child

  Open the gates of Annwn

  And bring your people back into the light.

  The Sidhe had always heralded one interpretation of the prophecy as the truth. I had learned that interpretation as a child and never questioned it. As I listened to Alexander, I realized he could be right.

  "But how would I know what actions to take? I don't have the gift of Darna Shealladh. I'm just a healer."

  "We'll figure things out as we go along. Isn't that what we've been doing so far? And we already found one of the treasures."

  I nodded; he made sense.

  "See this line here? 'Nuada's strength and fidelity will be her ally.' Sounds like they're talking about the sword; don't you think? About me. And in this same section of the book is an oath—" he flipped a few pages. "The same words I said at the trial."

  CHAPTER THREE

  ALEXANDER

  We were finally going home. We had been in the Otherworld for less than two weeks, but time had seemed to move so slowly.

  The dark purple sky was paling to lavender as we dressed for the journey. It felt good to pull on my jeans and t-shirt�
��to be back in my own clothes. The Sidhe traditional clothing I had worn since arriving at the palace weren't uncomfortable, but they gave me the odd sensation of wearing a disguise or costume.

  I left the Sidhe clothing behind, but not the sword. I pulled my arms through the harness that held the Claíomh Solais scabbarded between my shoulder blades. The scabbard was an odd thing. When I carried the blade in it, it seemed to disappear. I never felt the weight of it, nor did it ever get in my way when I sat on furniture. Yet I also had a constant awareness of the sword on a visceral level.

  I glanced sideways at Tressa as we walked down the corridor to get Sophia from the nursery. I hesitated to express my joy to be going home. She had been quiet all morning, deep in her own thoughts.

  "Are you sad to be leaving?" I asked. She looked across at me, surprised by my question.

  "No, not at all!" she said in a startled burst. "I'm looking forward to things going back to normal."

  I grinned and threw my arm around her, giving her a cheerful peck on the cheek, even happier now that I knew she shared my enthusiasm to go—though I thought it was a stretch to think things would ever be the same. Maybe it was different for her; she was used to this dual existence. I had no doubt that I, at least, had to prepare for a new normal.

  Sophia danced toward us when we entered the nursery, full of exuberance. I had expected her to be half-asleep at such an early hour. She walked between Tressa and me, holding our hands as we continued down the hallway. She chatted away—something about a misadventure the previous night when one of the Sidhe children tried to sneak sweets into the nursery.

  My steps quickened until I realized that I was tugging on Sophia's arm; she had to jog a little to keep up. Tressa shook her head at me, amused as I attempted to slow my pace.

  We entered a sitting room that reminded me of Órlaith's porch at the back of the old Manor House, although it was at least twice the size. Windows covered two of the walls. The rising sun created a warm glow, and the abundance of plants gave it a musky smell. The ambience was like that of a park or garden.

  The King and Queen were having breakfast with the twins when we entered. Like a family eating on the back deck, I thought with amusement.

  Sophia dropped our hands, ran to the King, and jumped into his lap. She threw her arms around his neck. "Uncle Lomán, we're leaving! I will miss you so much."

  The King looked taken aback, but then he smiled and hugged her. "Aye, and I will miss you too. But must you go now? Why not have breakfast with us first?"

  "No," I said, a little too sharply. Belatedly I softened my worlds with a smile. "Thank you, but we wanted to leave as early as possible to avoid drawing any attention to our departure."

  Rosheen and Keelin rushed to Tressa and me, hugging us in turns. I could never quite tell them apart until I was close enough to see their eyes. Keelin had striking blue eyes. Rosheen, the truth teller, was all the more remarkable with one blue and one gray eye.

  "Must you go?" Rosheen asked in a pouty voice. "Stay here with us. We never have enough fun together."

  "Sure and we have had many good times," Tressa chuckled. "You're always welcome to come with us."

  "Aye, well there's a new guy in town, Jeremy. He's sweet on me. I wouldn't want to leave before he gets his chance to woo me."

  "Jeremy! He's sweet on me—he doesn't even know you exist," Keelin argued.

  "How could he not know I exist? I am the King's daughter!"

  "Girls, let's not spoil Tressa's goodbyes," Queen Ciara said, interrupting their banter as she rose from her seat. King Lomán patted Sophia's back, before lifting her and setting her down on her feet. Then he stood and gave Ciara his arm. I dipped my head as they approached while Tressa made a small curtsy.

  "Tressa, darling, are you sure we can't convince you to stay?" Ciara, an older version of her blue-haired daughters, crinkled her eyes with worry. "I'm sure you would be safer here."

  "I know you're worried, Aunt Ciara, but I can't just hide away. I have to live my life."

  The Queen nodded, smiling sadly. She hugged Tressa and held her for a minute before turning and, to my surprise, giving me a hug too.

  "We are entrusting you with our Jewel," she said. "You take good care of her, Nuada's Heir." Sophia skirted around her to take my hand. "And this little treasure as well," Ciara said. She smiled down at Sophia and placed her hand on my daughter's head. The smile softened her face, making her look five years younger. "It is indeed a hardship to let her go."

  The King embraced Tressa. "Mother has left you Pine Ridge Estate. It is yours to do with as you will. You should know that I sent some workers there a while ago to restore the Manor House."

  "Uncle Lomán, that was so kind of you. Thank you," Tressa said.

  A while ago? How long ago could it have been? With everything that had happened in the past ten days, it seemed astonishing that he would have seen to that small detail.

  The King gazed over my shoulder as he shook my hand, looking for the sword. A ticklish sensation sprung up inside me, urging me to reassert my claim to the weapon. I stood taller, raised my chin and pushed my shoulders back—all before I realized I moved. The king's eyes narrowed as he noticed the change in my posture. I forced myself to relax while I waited for the ticklish sensation to recede.

  "One more thing before you go, Niece." Lomán said, his tone grave as he turned back to Tressa. "I trust you to use your judgment when it comes to holding Dominion; I know you wouldn't take advantage of innocents. Holding Dominion is temporary, so no one here cares that much. But you must stop opening the eyes of hu—"

  "But Da, she had to!" Keelin interrupted him. He cut her off before she could continue, his nostrils flaring with anger.

  "I don't care how good her reasons were," he snapped at his daughter before addressing Tressa again, his voice still flat with annoyance. "Many among the fae feel violated when their glamour is broken down and they are exposed without their permission. If one of them decides to dispense their own justice for the offence, there isn't much I can do to help you. Opening the eyes of humans to the fae is a serious offence."

  Tressa's cheeks flushed pink; it was the first time anyone had referred to Gilleagán's allegations at the trial. She swallowed hard and ducked her head.

  "I won't do it again. I promise."

  Henry, Tressa's bodyguard, awaited us at the palace's main entrance. Sophia ran to the rusty red-brown dragon—she had never shown any fear of the enormous creature—and patted his cream underbelly.

  "Hello, Henry!" she said, delighted to see him. The dragon curled his long neck, dipping his head and sniffing Sophia. He sneezed and my daughter, unintimidated, giggled.

  She looked up at him as though listening to him say something, though he didn't speak out loud. "He wants to know what we're waiting for."

  Tressa and I looked at each other in surprise.

  "Aye, that's what he said," Tressa verified "Pretty Sophia, you can hear when Henry talks?"

  "Of course! Can't you?" Sophia asked with a giggle.

  "Well, aye, I can hear him. But your daddy can't, and I didn't know you could. Have you always been able to hear him?"

  "Sure. It's easy." Her face puckered with concern. "Daddy, maybe you just need to try a little harder."

  Again, Tressa and I met eyes. This was another bullet point on a growing list of things that shouldn't be true about my daughter and yet were.

  I pushed these concerns to the back of my mind. The sun was rising in the sky. We would soon lose the advantage of an early morning start.

  "Come on. Let's go home," I said.

  Henry knelt, but Tressa still had to step on his wing to get enough leverage to climb onto his back. I was about to hand Sophia up to her when Henry put his nose under her and lifted her effortlessly to Tressa's waiting arms. I hoisted myself up and sat behind them.

  Henry took off and we were on our way. I watched the terrain below as we traveled. When we entered Faery two weeks ago the land had been
frozen over with ice and snow. In the last couple of days, the ice had almost entirely melted. Still, I would be happy to get back to the summer weather we had left back home. I thought eagerly of backyard barbecues and baseball. I would slow down and relax a little while I contemplated what I had learned about my mother and decide my next move.

  When Henry landed in a meadow beside a creek that marked the hidden threshold, we quickly pushed through the brush that covered the entrance. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching as I replaced the plants, doing my best to make it appear undisturbed.

  The threshold was simply a cave. The first half was lit by some sort of natural stone—the same stone that lit the basement of the palace.

  "Almost there," I said, grinning at Tressa as we stopped to retrieve the flashlight we'd left behind at the halfway point. We would need it to light the rest of the way.

  The air got suspiciously colder as we went along. I had to close my jacket to keep warm when I should have been taking it off to stay cool. The oddity of this fact didn't occur me at the time. Consumed with anticipation to feel the warm summer sun on my face, each step felt lighter than the last.

  When we came out the other side, frost covered the tall grass surrounding the threshold. Clumps of snow peppered the hillside—the remains of an earlier snowfall. I could see my breath in the frigid air. Instantly, my buoyant mood deflated.

  "Tressa, what's going on? Is it always winter when you pass through a threshold?"

  "No, that's not it." She grimaced. "I may have forgotten to tell you—time in the Otherworld doesn't always move the same as it does here."

  "So you're telling me that while we spent ten days in Faery, months have gone by here and it's now winter?"

  "Aye," she said sheepishly. "Based on the look of the forest, I would say six months at least."

  I took a moment to let that sink in. I looked from the frozen landscape to her facetted eyes to the threshold behind us. A new normal, indeed.