The feast carried on after my uncle’s confrontation with Riona about Maya. The Key stirring was always unsettling when he first activated it, a kind of acidic bubbling building in my chest. Once the initial shock wore off, my body filled with pent up warmth as if I had swallowed a clear spring day. When Bodb released the power to perform the command, a hollow withdrawal settled over me. Having that rear up all at once then fizzle in a matter of minutes gave me a dizzying whiplash. Riona touching Maya every chance she could only worsened my budding nausea. I had to lean on the dining table for support as I returned to my seat.
“Thank you for coming with Brigid.” I put my hand on Mother’s arm, something to reassure her as I settled back in front of my plate.
Mother stayed quiet and stared down at the empty table in front of her.
“I couldn’t very well leave her alone with all of that thread laying about,” Aunt Brigid answered instead. “With how fast her fingers work, she would’ve woven a strong enough rope, tied the proper sized noose, and readied herself to jump by the time we returned.”
“Don’t talk about her as if she can’t hear you.”
“She can’t hear me.” Brigid took a swig of ale from her flagon.
“You’ve had her in a trance that deep?”
“With this many people? Of course.” Brigid shook her head. “Her lucidity is waning, Daire. The only reason she has lasted this long is because she has an Aos Si’s spirit inside this fragile form.”
“The isolation can’t be helping that either.” I moved my hand from Mother’s arm to her shoulder blade. “Yet you continue to follow my father’s orders.”
“It’s not for her good, but for yours and Midir’s.” Brigid moved her point of contact to my mother’s leg, back out of sight. “We always suspected she would become a danger, given enough time.”
“Not this soon, though.”
“Her memory is only a little younger than the Tir Na Nog itself, Daire, and her body is older than many Aos Si.”
“I just miss visiting her.” I ran a lock of Mother’s hair between my fingers. Usually I would help her braid part of it so she could pin the rest into something beautiful before a feast day gathering. “I can talk to her, tell her things no one else will understand.”
“You still have me if you wish for wisdom, Aengus if you crave for camaraderie. Midir especially needs your presence now that he can no longer see her either.” My aunt took my hand away from my mother and held it in her own. “Lad, you have spent so many of your days closed up in mourning for her. I beg you, don’t neglect the family you do have while waiting for Etain to heal when you know in your heart of hearts it won’t happen.”
I rubbed the gathering moisture from my eyes. I couldn’t let it fall, not in so public a forum where my father could pass his damning judgments.
“Attention one and all!” Bodb’s voice boomed over the chatter, song, and laughter flooding the courtyard. He raised his mighty arms skyward and silence spread out to the rest of the mass. I turned toward him, grateful for the distraction. “I’m sure many of you have pondered the purpose for this evening’s feast. Beltane is long past and Samhain is still a couple of moons away. Yet here you are at Tara, already losing yourselves in her plenty. Before you become too lost, my good fellows, hearken unto my words, for they hold a great change for our kind.
“Loath as we are to admit it, we are ancient. I have ruled you through the humans’ scourge, the Key’s creation, and the ensuing years of peace that followed. Edicts were passed, oaths taken, and precious treasures sacrificed for the greater benefit of all. Yet here we stand, still united, still strong!”
My aunt beat her flagon upon the table. Other pounding followed, from hands, pommels, and drinkware. Whoops and cheers rang out from the folk of the territories the Dagda’s Brood ruled over, Aengus’ and Brigid’s lands. The Queens over Mumhan, Cliona and Aine, roused their Bean Sidhe attendants and subjects to holler, since Bodb hailed from that land originally. Among those who silently watched on were two of the voting council’s members: dour Ilbrec, king over Uliad to the north, and the slovenly horselord Finvarra, king over Connacht to the west.
“Alas, it is with a heavy heart that in these times of peace and plenty, I feel my era has come to an end,” Bodb continued. The chatter dropped to a low drone. “In my stepping down, I don’t leave you with a gaping maw that will plunge us into chaos, but a candidate worthy to be my successor. He fought against the Fomor to free us from enslavement and against the humans that turned on us. I present to you Midir the Proud, King over Bri Leith and my brother of the Dagda’s loins.”
My father stood at his brother’s right hand, smiling small and faint. His gold eyes cast no happiness nor pride out at his future subjects. He still clasped arms with Bodb in thanks.
“Long may he prosper!” My uncle Aengus instigated the first cheer, rising to his feet as he beat upon the stone table with the butt of his knife.
Many of the women in the crowd hollered praises—rumors circulated that he had retired Mother and would be courting again, as he had in his youth. Brigid’s clear voice rallied the eastern provinces that her and Aengus ruled. Some of Finvarra’s lot clapped their accord. The Bean Sidhe led the entirety of Mumhan into a chorus, joining in Aengus’ chant. Ilbrec offered obliging applause, and his subjects followed suit. More seemed to favor Father over Bodb himself, a fresh change to stir up the monotony of the last thousand years.
“When next we meet for the start of a new year at this very spot, there will be an election.” Bodb locked eyes with all five monarchs on the council, no doubt reminding them of their oaths. “May our leaders deliberate with great care. Our future rests in your hands.”
Each monarch bowed their heads including Aunt Brigid beside me.
“Now, enough with politics,” Bodb said. “Return to feasting!”
A unanimous cheer followed.
I took a deep breath as the gossip’s volume rose, filled with surmising the exact reason why our leader decided to abdicate his throne. The fact that Bodb decided to hold the election this coming Samhain had to coincide with the note from the Aengus’ book. Riona and Maya were my only chance, or else I’d die as soon as my father took the throne. All I had left to do was enact the plan.
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I rose from my seat and made my way around the table with jaunty steps. Upon approaching Maya and my sister, I cleared my throat.
“Two people wanting to pester me in one night. This is a high for a feast.” Riona frowned. Maya glanced over her shoulder toward me, but kept quiet. “What do you want, little Daire?”
“A dance, actually.” I held my hand out for her. “I’d like to discuss a matter.”
“You can’t do that with one of your other, more doting relatives?”
“They’re too close to this particular issue.”
“Consider me intrigued.” Riona lofted a single curious brow my way, but squeezed Maya’s shoulder. “I’m afraid I cannot leave this one alone in present company.”
“I’m sure I can handle both of you at once.” I held out both hands for them and winked toward Maya.
Maya glanced between my offered palm and Riona for a moment as she considered. We hadn’t had the chance to discuss anything. Had my sister unraveled the tenuous trust we’d built in our meetings? It seemed an unspoken test, whether Maya would prove a reliable ally or not.
“You said you wanted to have fun this time, right? The dancing doesn’t look so bad.” Maya stood and tugged Riona with her. “Watch out. I’ll step on somebody’s toes.”
The minstrel struck up a merry, fast-paced jig as I led both women to the dance area around the bonfire. Hardly the right mood-setter for an attempt at intrigue, but I brought my taller sister and her shorter changeling into the formation. Riona and I hopped, twirled, and weaved through the other couples as naturally as walking. Maya struggled to keep pace, but my sister and I managed to lead her well enough that she wasn’t trampled by the other dancers.
“It has occurred to me,” I said once we joined the throng, “that this new vacancy could be a tremendous opportunity.”
“How? Our current High King has already declared his chosen.” Riona kept a firm grip on Maya, guiding her as if the two were one partner rather than two. “No one outside of the Dagda’s brood can declare themselves his rival.”
“Our forefather’s line is far more than Bodb and Father.” I skipped them into a tight circle, the three of us revolving with each other.
“Brigid and Aengus lost their higher political ambitions long before the walls closed.” Riona’s lip curled as my favorite uncle’s name slipped out. “Perhaps a small chieftain with distant blood ties could aspire to the seat, but none would dare risk the High King’s ire.”
“And if one didn’t care what Bodb thought?”
“They may not, but the voting council does. It’s impossible.”
“What’s that got to do with—” Maya stumbled over my foot as our circle switched directions. “—her?”
“A good question.” Riona spun under my arm, tugging on Maya to follow suit. “It sounds as if you want to run.”
“In theory, it should be as simple as convincing the ruling council monarchs to change their vote.” I snuck a meaningful look Maya’s way as I brought her back around. I could plant the idea, but she would have to manage persuading Riona to take her. “In person would be best, arranging meetings and journeying to each province. It would be a grand trip. I could take in the sights, collect some new samples for my garden, see the sacred treasures…”
Maya’s eyes widened and she tripped back, landing rear first on the paved courtyard. Another couple careened toward her, but both Riona and I scooped her up as they passed. Suffice to say, I was confident she got my hint.
“You think you can be High King?” Riona resumed as we aligned back into position with the dancers.
“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” The jig slowed and I stepped around my sister and her ward as the women stayed in place. “I could govern my own abilities, indulge my obsession with the human world as much as I pleased, needing no one’s permission but my own.”
“You do realize with that much power at your disposal, there will be an equal number of people coming after you for it.” She raked a scornful sneer down my physique, pathetic when compared to the likes of Bodb or our father. “Your combat skills also have a rather poor reputation.”
“Yes, but as High King I could appoint bodyguards to take care of that.” The song wound down, nearly to its end as I stopped across from them. “I’m sure I could undermine Father well enough.”
“At least the anarchy that followed would be entertaining to watch.” Riona sprang a step to the right, then the left. I mirrored the motions.
“If he can do it, that means you can too, right Rio?” Maya clung to my sister’s arm as she managed to time her hops only a fraction out of sync with us.
“There’s a thought. Midir’s Fomor-touched bastard running for High Queen. Even if she hadn’t corrupted her nature with inferior magic, she has no family, no connections, and a personality more surly than Father’s. She stands as much chance as snow in a volcano.” Challenge thrown, the song came to its end, and I dropped into the bow that came with it.
Riona wore a thick layer of glamour over herself at all times, designed to resemble the soft glow of an Aos Si’s innate aura. It contained her true nature: a twisted, ionized embodiment of her power over iron. It ate away at Aos Si magic, rotting everything around it in Tir Na Nog. That shield burst as the air around her darkened, charging like a thunderstorm readying for lightning to strike. It shrouded her fair skin and crimson hair in gray as it spread. The stone tiles under her feet cracked and the logs at the edge of the bonfire split.
Couples parted out of her way, casting their derisive sneers and horrified whispers. Even Maya hurried to avoid the aura’s touch, her bewildered gaze flitting between the decaying decor to the wary feast-goers. I alone stayed planted where I stood and risked the edges of Riona’s power’s deadly reach. It grazed the gold buttons closing my vest and made the fine hairs on my arms singe. She dared not send it any further, though, her hostile glower making her harmful intent clear. The oaths she’d sworn to Uncle Bodb restricted her from doing anything more to me than her light bullying. I smirked in the face of her fearsome yet helpless display.
Riona grabbed Maya’s forearm and stormed to the nearest standing stone with a mirror, dragging my accomplice behind her. As soon as the two disappeared through the rippling glass, the damage left in my sister’s wake repaired itself. The chipped courtyard became smooth. The broken, ever-burning logs on the bonfire were whole once more. Another tune brought the dancers back in line. Many exhaled in relief and laughed at the spectacle of the Lady of Irons’ departure.
I returned to my seat, only to find that Aunt Brigid had escorted my mother back to her cell in my absence. After so many weeks holed up, obsessing over how to change my fate, I came to the stark realization that I had done all I could. With my purpose ground to such a halt, all I could do was wait. Yet I still had a well of anxious energy whirring in my limbs. There had to be something else I could do, some minor task I could perform to better my chances of survival. But I had driven Riona back to her burrow, which left everything in Maya’s hands.
I had to redirect myself. There was always the option to leave the festivities and retire to my garden. The night blossoms would be in bloom and certainly in need of tending. Despite that the prospect attracted me, wandering those paths alone did not.
Where was Uncle Aengus among the rabble? He had settled down on the outer ring of the courtyard, entertaining a minor chieftain with a cloak made of cardinal feathers. That chieftain had settled for a night with me once and cried my mentor’s name during the throes of his passion. While I was happy he was satisfying his infatuation, it left me bereft of my usual confidant.
Father sat unattended, brooding out on the festivities at Bodb’s right hand. Aunt Brigid’s remark came back to me about how he too suffered now that he had forbade Mother from seeing us. Inviting him wouldn’t do any good, though. He had agreed to let me die, called me a thief, and taken the book with my escape plan. Family or not, he’d proven he didn’t care about his disappointment of a son.
That left taking a lover, someone far removed from the Key and the Dagda’s Brood. A Bean Sidhe attendant of Queen Cliona locked eyes with me. Her name was Aoife, and that night she had gathered her pale hair off of her neck and wore a translucent blue gown whose fabric imitated the ocean’s waves. The way the garment hugged her narrow waist and waifish hips excited me enough that I approached. I asked after her mistress with the most dashing smile I could muster and she congratulated me on my father’s nomination in her melodic voice. I told her of the night blossoms and she followed me as I led her through a mirror into my gardens. We did not look at the flowers for too long before our lips met and the evening progressed from there. First in the courtyard of the gardens, then the rest of it in my chambers.