I knelt at the edge of the cobbled path in the gardens of my father’s estate in a plain tunic, trousers, and boots. They were more appropriate for outside work than my usual gold-embroidered garb—and helped to vex my father, who loved commenting how unbecoming they were for Bri Leith’s heir and a prince of Tir Na Nog. Clustered flowers and cherry trees in full bloom surrounded me, their sweet scents complimenting the vibrant rainbow of colors I’d planted in the spring section. However, a patch of blue and purple irises in front of me had a skewed arrangement that demanded my attention. I hummed as I kneaded the soil under them, and my personal magic flowed into their stems.
“Hurry, brother!” sang the deceptively bell-like voice of my half-sister, Riona. The jingle of the dark iron chains she wore on both her wrists sent anxious shudders through my shoulders. I looked up to find her skipping toward me. Her blood-red hair and sheer white gown kicked up like a swan’s wings, exhibiting a beauty and grace that belied her sinister nature. “Our esteemed High King has granted me another visit to the mortal realm.”
“Again?” I asked, incredulous. The High King, our eldest uncle Bodb, had a favorite personal proverb: “The best aid humans ever gave the Aos Si was to leave us alone.” I had to badger him for weeks at a time to be allowed a glimpse of the humans, and that was only because my body housed the Key, the power that bridged Tir Na Nog and Earth—I had also honed pleading to an artform over the years. He never granted another being the privilege of interacting with mortals until recently with Riona. What leverage did she have over him? “Very well. I’ll meet you at my scrying pool after I finish with these stubborn flowers.”
“No, I won’t wait, little Daire.” One of Riona’s abominable chains whipped around my left side and captured my waist. My sister yanked back as smoke rose from my tunic. Patches of brown spread across the green fabric where the links touched. Soon enough the iron would burn through my clothes and the smoke would rise from my flesh instead. “You will come with me now.”
“Release me!” I summoned the thick roots of the garden’s plants, thrusting my power into the ground. They broke free of the earth and wrapped about my calves, anchoring me at the ankles. “Or I shan’t be coming anywhere.”
“Why must you always whine?” Her chain loosened and fell around my feet.
“Cease assaulting me with your corrosive metals and I won’t whine.” I swiped at the rotted portions of my tunic as my glamour restored the material to its rightful emerald hue. “What’s the purpose of this visit?”
“The same. I must find someone.” Riona turned on her heel and strode toward the small courtyard at the center of this part of the gardens. “Father’s guard isn’t about, I trust?”
“Right. Fergal slithers by later in the day.” I asked as I kept pace behind her. “Who are you seeking?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
Suppressing a sigh at her stubbornness, I plodded forward. We passed too many errors for my liking, like trees whose branches did not shade the path, a shrub growing away from its fellows, and a nasty spot of green hellebore growing among buttercups. If not for the threat of her iron, I would have stayed to rectify the blemishes.
We came to our destination, a courtyard framed by violet delphiniums. Rough stones surrounded a modest water basin at its center. Riona had a discernible bounce in her step before she fluttered to her knees in front of the pool.
I slumped beside my sister and took her hand to establish a magical connection with her. The edge of her bracelet brushing my wrist stung, but I held on. “Where and when are they?”
“In their present, the same city as before.”
“The same descendant, I take it?”
“If you know what I want, then do it.”
“As you wish.” I reached out my senses to her, seeking the subtle signature of the High King’s favor. Once I found it hanging over her, the Key’s power swelled in my chest. I touched the scrying pool’s surface and the power tingled down my arm. My blood raced when our reflection turned to a blur of colors, and then came the familiar twinge of glee at glimpsing the mortal world. After so many years spying on the humans’ progress and beholding the miracles they produced without a speck of magic in their blood, I figured that feeling would grow stale. It never faded, though, each experience was as delightful as the last.
Different events passed before our eyes as I traced through the generations. The ancestor Riona wanted to trace from, a wise-woman named Saoirse, lay bloodied in her hovel. Her daughter, Diedre, grew to marry a farmer and birth three sons. One of those sons had a daughter of his own, and so on. Saoirse’s line moved from Eire across the Great Western Ocean, to one of Hispania’s island settlements in the New World, until it stopped in a large city on the edge of La Florida.
The image in the water cleared to show a woman in the middle of changing clothes in a modest bedroom. She was pretty enough and still in the prime of her adult life. Her long hair shimmered gold in the light cast by the lamp embedded in the ceiling, and her serene honey-brown eyes clashed with the worn line across her brow. Her only flaws came from her sunken cheeks, how her ribs and hips jutted from under her flesh.
“Catch her attention.” Riona squeezed my hand tighter, as if that would strengthen her link to the vision.
“Do it yourself.” I traced little ripples in the pool. “Besides, I’m only here to watch.”
“Curses on our uncles for making you the only one who can do this.” Riona leaned closer to the water’s surface. “Jennifer Diaz!”
The woman jumped and dropped the white tunic she had pulled from her top dresser drawer. She swiveled toward the bedroom door and hurried to cover herself with the fallen shirt.
“Who’s there?” Jennifer Diaz gawked at the entryway and addressed it instead.
“Look at the mirror.” Riona’s voice hummed as the English interpretation spell I’d made for her triggered.
I rearranged my sister’s hand to my wrist and, with both palms free, covered my ears.
Jennifer Diaz swiveled around. Her eyes became so wide that their whites occupied more space than their irises. She screamed shrill and full, with enough breath behind it to make any singer jealous.
Riona’s wince gave me a good chuckle, but she squeezed my wrist hard enough for her nails to draw blood.
“Mind your oaths,” I hissed through gritted teeth as I pried at her fingers.
“I am,” Riona whispered. “If I wasn’t, your arm would snap.”
“What? How?” Jennifer Diaz stammered, trembling like an autumn leaf caught in a breeze.
“Your years are up,” Riona said. “I’m coming to collect the prize you promised.”
Jennifer bit her lower lip in a delicate show of defiance.
“Where’s the girl?” Riona’s nose pricked the water’s surface as she scanned the other side of the scry. I flicked a few drops at her cheek and her nostrils flared. “Where have you hidden her?”
Jennifer Diaz edged away from her mirror, and us.
Riona lifted her face away from the pool and her pupils narrowed, assessing. No doubt the human’s finite signs of maturity had only just penetrated her thick skull. “How long has it been since you last saw me?”
“Not real.” Jennifer Diaz breathed in short gasps as she squeezed her eyes shut. “She’s not real.”
“Answer me!”
Jennifer Diaz backed away until her leg bumped the bed’s frame, and risked squinting down at the crumpled blanket atop the mattress. She snatched the cover and tossed it over her mirror. It reduced my scry to a fabric backing and the sound of pattering footsteps.
Riona grimaced and thrust her arm into the pool as if to grab her quarry. But that outstretched hand slipped through the surface, disturbing the vision with lapping waves.
“You actually seek a human changeling? How?” I peeled my sister’s hand off my wrist and the reflection in the water faded back to the blue, cloudless sky over our heads.
“The only thing that matters to you, little Daire, is that I have the permission.” Riona shook the water droplets off her arm, the chain around that wrist jingling with the motion. “Focus on performing your duties and leave the details to the actual Aos Si, half-breed.”
“At least I have duties.” I stood and massaged my thigh until feeling came back to it. “I do love being useful. I would hate to be a burdensome spinster with only a scrap of her father’s land to her name.”
“Speaking of our father, he wanted to see you in his library immediately.”
“And he stooped to using you as his messenger?”
“I overheard him ordering one of the wall-folk to tell you.”
“When?”
“Shortly before this lengthy scry.” A traitorous smile curved her lips. “I wonder if the carving gave up searching for you by now.”
“If it was important, Father would have fetched me himself.”
“I’m sure he would have if he wasn’t entertaining company.” Riona fiddled with a link in her bracelet. “I believe our entire family is here, every son of the legendary Dagda’s Brood. And for some reason they need you there.”
That meant Father, Uncle Aengus, and Uncle Bodb were holding one of our regular family meetings. But they typically told me about them beforehand. And this wouldn’t be the first time my half-sister had twisted the truth in order to lead me astray. “Just because you believe they’re with Father, doesn’t make it true.”
“I did spy Bodb with my own eyes. He was quite cross.” She wiggled her fingers at me in a paltry goodbye. “I imagine all of them have taken offense at your absence by now. You should run.”
My insides froze. A promise of future vengeance hovered on the tip of my tongue, but I fled past her toward home.
To reach Bri Leith’s main fortress, I ran down the main path that cut through the gardens. As much as I preferred walking through the quilts of flowers and intertwined trees, taking my time would leave more than Father waiting. A stroll was not worth being late for a meeting when the High King was there.
* * *
Bri Leith’s fortress was concealed within the gardens and resembled a series of grassy knolls. The only visible signs of its existence were the circular courtyards carved into the tops of the hills. The path I ran on ended at a large, round gate set into the side of the highest of the mounds.
I slowed to a stop in front of the two enormous wall-folk constructs carved into the double doors. Father had shaped them to be warriors: bearded, brawny, and dressed in their finest leathers.
“Who calls?” The stone giant on the left hefted his club in welcome, while the right one lifted a sword.
“Lord Daire of the Ivy, heir to Bri Leith, Key Bearer. I come with no ill intent. Allow me entrance,” I rattled off, taking the moment to wipe my sweaty palms on my tunic.
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“Your father awaits you in his library,” said the left guardian.
“He demands you get down there before he changes his mind about not punishing you for your mother’s sake.” The other warden imitated my father’s piercing glare.
“Then open the bloody doors so I can enter.”
Without fanfare, the wall-folk separated. I squeezed through the moment the space between them opened. The left giant vanished from his post upon that door and knelt on one of the inner walls. He muttered a message to a carving of a page boy.
Inside laid a wide central hall leading to the throne room, with connected passages branching out to its other sections. Its paved stone walls rose into an arched ceiling, held up by winding roots. I raced along, keeping pace with the page. One moment it minded a mounted torch, the next it darted away behind one of my mother’s tapestries. While I wanted to check if Mother had added any of her recent projects, my haste made them blur together as I passed.
A last minute twist of my heel brought me to the door of Father’s library. I stopped outside it and braced my arms against my knees. My ribs ached as I panted worse than a hunting hound. Even if the carving had beaten me there, I would not give my father the pleasure of seeing me winded for his sake. Steeling myself for a tongue lashing, I edged through the entry to face my family.
My father kept his library in the ancient style. Scrolls and tablets covered the walls, set into cylindrical alcoves and packed in wooden cases. Gold and jewels edged each nook, and a series of glowing white stones set into the domed ceiling cast a soft light over the room. Father sat at his desk, surrounded by two of my family’s other elders. An empty chair awaited me.
“So you finally decided to grace us with your presence.” My father threw a set of marked pebbles across his desk and frowned, but not at me. His battle-hardened physique showcased his reputation as a warrior, while his golden mane had earned him many lovers in his youth. Yet his disposition had always been as callous as his hands toward me.
“We should count ourselves lucky, Midir. At least he showed up,” said the High King of the Aos Si, Uncle Bodb. He took the most after my legendary grandfather, with the same wild auburn beard and love of donning animal furs. Near as broad as he was tall, he had the most primal strength of his gathered siblings.
“I’m sure he has a good tale to go with his absence, don’t you m’boy?” My final and favorite uncle, Aengus, winked my way as his childlike face lit up. His pale, whimsical hair stuck up in every direction and his lavender eyes twinkled with mischief. Although the youngest and shortest of his siblings, when it came to magic he excelled the most. Anyone who underestimated his silly demeanor and colorful attire would suffer a rude awakening.
“What does it matter?” Father interjected. “The boy would much rather spy on lesser beings than cavort with the likes of us.”
“A correction, Father.” I raised a finger as I took the empty seat. “I prefer not to cavort with the likes of you. The rest of the family is rather pleasant.”
Father’s nostrils flared as he glanced up. “When was the last time you killed someone, oh soft son of mine?”
“Considering there are so few of the Aos Si left,” I countered, “I think it’s a good thing I haven’t killed anyone.”
Father sighed and picked up his pebbles for another roll.
“All that matters is that you’re here,” Uncle Bodb huffed. “We can finally begin the meeting.”
We went through the cursory protocol of repeating vows of silence so the contents of the meeting would not spread to the public. Then Uncle Bodb followed the standard routine and updated us on Tir Na Nog’s current events—which amounted to him prattling on about the petty conflicts between the realm’s various kings and queens.
I was convinced they squabbled between each other so much because they were bored. My mother often told me stories of how much better it was before my family closed our world off from the mortal realm. Humans like her used to revere the Aos Si as old gods and local nature spirits. They left us tributes, became our lovers, and provided the entertainment that kept our ancient society from turning on itself. Then a new religion came whose priests wielded a toxic iron magic just like Riona’s. Most of our kind were wiped out until my father and uncles created the Key to split Tir Na Nog from Earth, and encased that power within me as a babe. I would have loved a taste of the past harmony Mother spoke of, just once…
“Daire.” Bodb’s voice interrupted my daydreaming. “Would you say the Aos Si have done well under our rule since Tir Na Nog closed?”
“Of course.” I rubbed my drooping eyes as I scooted upright.
“Why?”
“Um, many reasons.” I marked them off on my fingers. “You coordinated all of the surviving houses to submit to the preservation edicts that keep us from killing each other, for one. Without them, I doubt you could have enforced the peace we have without any bloodshed.”
“We only managed that because there were no humans interfering in all that time,” my father said as he tucked his game stones into his belt pouch.
“The Aos Si prospered plenty when the worlds were open to each other,” I shot back. “Humanity even helped us.”
“Have you forgotten that they were the cause of us exiling ourselves here?” Father stood from his chair, his voice rising with him.
“And what of your mortal wife?” I folded my fingers leisurely in my lap. Exposing the flaws in his prejudice always lifted my mood.
“She had no part in slaughtering your older brothers and their households!” Father slammed his fist upon his desk.
“That’s enough. Any talk of humans is irrelevant.” Bodb glowered at me and his energy reached between us to clamp my mouth shut. “The point of this gathering is to announce that I’m stepping down as High King.”
A dead hush fell over the room. Aengus’ brows furrowed together before he glanced aside to my father. Father bobbed his chin as he settled back into his chair, unsurprised at the news.
“All decorum aside, I have reigned for too long.” Bodb slouched against his knees. “The Key sealing the walls of Tir Na Nog preserves us. We have peace, albeit an uneasy one. The time has come for new leadership, and it must be from within our family so the preservation edicts are upheld. If another house were to take over, they would gain command over the Key, and Daire would be helpless to defy them. I fear what our political rivals would do with that power. It could lead to a civil war, or worse. The Aos Si are too close to extinction to risk that.”
“Uncle Aengus would be more than capable of taking over for you.” A cold shiver raced up my spine. All my life, Uncle Bodb had been the only High King, and the sole being capable of activating the Key so I could wield it and watch the mortal world. If Uncle Aengus was elected to replace him, he would let me continue to indulge my obsession with humanity. But if Father was chosen as the preferred successor…
“So I could spoil you with endless visions of the mortal world?” Aengus chuckled but his shoulders slumped. “I’m more than content sitting on the ruling council, the rest of whom I know wouldn’t vote to elect me. Perhaps you should try running for the High King’s seat, Daire. Being Key Bearer makes you popular with the other houses, and you are part of the family.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Father said, snorting Aengus’ way. “Our entire civilization would descend into chaos as soon as he was crowned, all while he ignored his duties and used his newfound control over the Key to spy on mortals.”
“Perhaps I’m unfit to rule, but I could certainly handle being able to use the Key without asking for permission,” I said, glaring across the room.
“Out of the question!” Bodb bellowed at me, cutting my fantasy short. He steepled his fingers in his lap as he turned back to addressing the room at large. “I approached Midir first. He has already agreed. When the time is right, I will name him my uncontested heir, without holding an election. Under those conditions, our alliances guarantee no competition from the other houses or families, so he won’t need to campaign for the ruling council members’ votes.”
A numb dread settled over me, making my skin tingle and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I held my tongue for the moment, listening for any sign Father might let me continue enjoying my favorite escape. My “obsession with mortals” was all I had to cope with being Key Bearer. My family only allowed me to leave the protection of Bri Leith for holiday feasts. With Mother’s advanced age making her mind deteriorate year by year, I couldn’t rely on her to be my constant companion anymore. Gardening was a cherished distraction, but it couldn’t always fend off the loneliness of this place. Uncle Aengus had too many responsibilities to visit me as often as I needed. Riona only tormented me with glib insults and taunts. Even the guard Father assigned to watch me stayed too distant to make conversation.
“This idea defies millennia of tradition.” Aengus groaned and rubbed his temples. “The rest of the council won’t be happy…”
“Then use your silver tongue to make them understand,” Bodb lifted his empty, open palms. “If there were not so few of us left, I would be the first to defend tradition. But it’s better to do away with antiquated customs than indulge the masses and chance our entire race dying off. My decision is final. Midir will be coronated this coming Samhain”
“Do I get a say in any of this?” I said through gritted teeth, digging my fingers into my arms.
Their attention snapped to me, as if they’d all forgotten my presence.
“How could you not be happy?” Bodb asked with a growling edge. “If Midir becomes High King, Bri Leith is yours. Do you know how many princes would kill for lands like these?”
“He knows I won’t give him permission for any more of those silly mortal scries.” Father said, chin jutting out as he peered down his nose at me.
“It’s not fair!” I jumped up and my chair flew back, making a loud crack as it collided with the stone floor. “This place is lonely, even with Mother here. But if you become High King, you’ll move away to Tara and take her with you. Then what am I supposed to do?”
Father shrugged. “Ideally, you’ll be busy managing your new lands.”
“What is there to manage? Bri Leith houses, at most, a dozen self-sufficient subjects.” I waved past the library, toward Bri Leith’s empty estate. “Would I at least be able to leave here without a chaperone?”
“If you’d spent time learning to wield a weapon, you could have already done that.” Father swiped his fingers through his hair as he smoothed it back, tugging hard enough to make himself cringe. “But instead you waste your time tending flowers and still cannot defend yourself.”
“My magic is as capable as any sword.” I shot my finger at Uncle Aengus. “With him as my teacher, I’m more than capable of taking on any full-blooded Aos Si.”
“He has improved,” Aengus muttered in a hurry, shrinking into his chair. “Anyone in Tir Na Nog can still trounce him in combat, but he’s clever with his glamour and has strengthened his affinity with plants.”
I rewarded my favorite uncle’s betrayal with a scowl.
“What did you expect?” Aengus hid half his face behind his hand. “I’m incapable of twisting the truth that much.”
“We’re not trying to be spiteful,” Bodb said through a rigid jaw, scratching his corded neck. “As the Key Bearer, you’re too vulnerable outside the bounds of Bri Leith. Someone could take you hostage and use you to manipulate us into opening Tir Na Nog.”
Fresh tears hovering on my lashes, stinging my eyes. Phlegm thickened in my throat too much to speak anymore. I followed my feet as they ran for the heavy door and stormed from their sights.
* * *
I found my bedchamber and shoved my way in, salty tear trails already trickling down my cheeks. I had to stop Father, but how?
The domed room acted as a tonic for my troubled, frenzied mind. I furnished my only private space with a round canopy bed and writing desk—I avoided glancing at the small bed of white lily vine flowers I kept by my parchment and pens. The few tapestries hanging on the walls seemed to follow me, though their woven eyes weren’t enchanted like the wall-folk carvings. My oval looking glass was shrouded by a thick curtain to prevent unwelcome spies from scrying me and to warn me if any intruders tried to make their way through it. I cast aside my bed’s green drapes and collapsed into its pile of gold tasseled pillows.
Sunlight streamed in from the skylight and its warmth dried my face as I laid there. How could I foil Father’s plans? I could run for High King myself and exploit the loophole in Uncle Bodb’s scheme. But that meant competing against my father and rallying support from the monarchs on the council—difficult when Bri Leith’s defensive wards enforced the rule that I couldn’t leave without a family member.
Something sharp stabbed into my side, a corner. With a wince, I scanned the pillows and found a book lying under to me. Only Uncle Aengus stored information that way, inspired by my visions of mortal monasteries. I picked it up, opening my senses as I turned it over. Simple green knotwork with charming ivy leaves lined the cover’s border. In the middle stood an embossed red ram and butterfly, my parents’ symbols. A gold cord connected the two figures, wrapping around them in the shape of a skeleton key. The tome emitted an odd aura from between its pages and its energy thrummed at the same beat as mine.
I opened it, only to find the first page blank. Every page I flipped to after held more of the same. The symbols on the cover clearly meant it was about me, yet nothing was written inside. It wasn’t like Uncle Aengus to leave me anonymous journals, especially ones with an aura attuned to mine.
The magic pulsing through the paper grew warm against my fingers. A circle filled with gold filigree lined Ogham script formed under them. I slid my palm further up the page and the spot moved with my touch, revealing more of the message. Once my skin lost contact, the words vanished into the page.
A giddy bubble swelled in my chest. Of course there was a trick to it! I pressed two fingers back to the top of the page and read along.
“…insists the walls must stay closed forever. The Aos Si cannot go for long with such limited access. Upon the agreement of us all, my esteemed brother asked that I make this safeguard so that when he steps down, it will destroy the Key. I tried to make the process as merciful as possible, a gradual decay rather than an instantaneous strike. My infant nephew deserves that much. It will afford him time to say goodbye to loved ones and make arrangements. I am sure that, should Daire learn of this, he will come to hate us all. I only hope that by then he has lived long enough to understand it will be for the good of all that he fades away. It should be enough that he will live on through our memories and the great tales I will spin honoring his sacrifice.”
I flinched back from the page and the script faded. Betrayal stabbed into my gut.
Why did I feel such things? What had I read? I could not, for the life of me, remember a single Ogham character, let alone the entire passage.
My nose crinkled as I touched the upper corner of the page again. I read the word aloud, saw it clear as day, then lifted my hand and there it went. I almost forgot why I touched the bare sheet before the pull of its magic brought me to my senses. That must have been a part of the book’s enchantment; the same force that kept the words concealed erased my memory of them.
I closed the book with a thump and studied the spine. It had the same thickness as my hand. Uncle Aengus must have left the tome, for who else would have access to his library? But why the secrecy? Something about the Key must have been in there that could save me from Father’s intention to cut me off from the mortal realm. If I copied the passages and read over them, I might be able to find what I needed before Samhain.
Hope kindled in my spirit, a small flame in need of nurturing. But it would only stay if my quest remained hidden. If I shared my discovery with my family, any of them, some oath would make them report it to Father or Bodb. Whoever had left the book had risked much. I would not let their efforts go in vain. I would use this chance and find my freedom, no matter the cost.