The two of us emerged through one of my garden’s pools. I pulled Maya along toward a nearby bed of yellow pansies interspersed with red-cupped daffodils.
“You want to hide it here?” Maya asked as we stopped.
“Yes. My magic runs strongest among my flowers. There are enough of them to cover the distinct energy the sacred treasures give off.” I knelt to the soil and kneaded it, extending simple magic out to the roots to rearrange themselves. The flowers obliged and I dug a thin trench in the bare ground. Simple enough. Would my limited power be enough to make my timid blossoms overtake a war-hungry Spear?
“That’s not bad.” Maya needed no direction as she walked over the flowers. She squatted and laid the Spear within my impromptu hole. “As long as it works.”
“Daire?” called a familiar voice from further down the path. Father.
Maya dropped her rump upon the Spear’s shaft and set her legs over its head. Quick thinking, albeit blunt and suspicious.
I sent my frenzied magic toward the flowers as I hummed to sooth them. The daffodils shied away from the Spear’s destructive aura while the pansies became stubborn and refused to move at all.
“What are you doing?” My father strode up, much closer now. He cocked his eyebrow high at Maya.
“Did we interrupt something?” Mother stood beside Father, her arm curled in his.
“I was just finishing.” I waved toward the sprawling plants in front of me. “It seems quite obvious what I’m doing.”
Father tilted his chin toward Maya sitting in the middle of them.
“I’m marking where he wants to put something new.” Maya offered both Father and Mother a sheepish bow. I’d almost forgotten she could lie outright. “Hey again. Sorry about the hostage thing Mrs. Etain.”
“Who are they and what does she speak of?” Mother leaned into Father and clung tighter to his arm. She must have been in an oblivious state where she didn’t recognize anyone. Occasionally she would enter that phase of ignorant bliss where she forgot her situation and enjoyed our company like someone meeting kind strangers. It often ended in her breaking down from missing the sensation.
“This is my son and his…acquaintance.” Father pulled Mother closer to him. “Is there anything you have to tell me later?”
“Nothing you don’t already know, Father.” I shooed them toward the main house. “Wait for me at your mirror. I’ll be along shortly.”
“Not so fast.” Father parted from Mother and settled beside me. “What color will you place here?”
“Maya gave me the idea.” I surveyed the red and orange dots among the sea of yellow petals, searching for an answer. Maya’s hair stood out in the bunch and inspiration struck. “Her hair reminds me of irises and I want to break up this yellow patch with some extra color. Where she is sitting will be the center of a larger design. I was thinking spirals.”
“It sounds adequate.” Father stroked his chin as if pondering something. “As it stands, the abundance of yellow reminds me of a high noon sun, which would fit better in your Summer section. This one is themed after Autumn, yes? If you added violet, You might also consider adding more red and orange. Your scheme should shift to feel more like twilight or a waning sunset. Any disproportion of lighter colors would be off putting.”
Mother and Maya glanced over the flowers, as if envisioning the design Father described.
I stared agape at my father and his tasteful assessment of my spontaneous intentions.
Father strengthened the glamour over his face like I did when hiding my embarrassing red cheeks.
“That sounds pretty,” Maya muttered. “You didn’t tell me your dad was artsy.”
“I was unaware myself, before.” I narrowed my eyes at the taller man. “In fact, this is the first time he has shown any interest.”
“Is it so hard to believe I follow your handiwork?” Father glanced toward Maya as he gritted his teeth. Her presence seemed to set him on edge, despite her recent apology. “Save your jibes for closed doors.”
“It is hard to believe,” I said, ignoring his obvious discomfort. “Once does not constitute a history.”
“Your father offered to take me on a tour of this estate. He said the gardens in particular were the finest in the region,” Mother offered, as if she were a sweet maid speaking to a stranger. “My apologies if our stroll interferes with your work.”
What was Father playing at? He’d given me multiple compliments, defended me against Finvarra, and even attempted to assist my gardening. Did he think to trap me into something with feigned kindness? Perhaps guilt overcame him, and he tried to assuage his conscience. It mattered not. I refused to bend.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“Was this supposed to be a secret tryst?” Mother dropped her voice to a conspiratory whisper. “Is she your forbidden sweetheart?”
“No,” both Maya and I answered at the same time.
“Have you seen the kind of women he sleeps with?” Maya continued. “I’m fourteen sizes too big.”
“She’s far too soft to appeal to my masculine tastes, either. Look at her. She’s as unremarkable as a sloppy page boy. And that only describes her physical faults. Her disposition favors the common and mundane.” I pointed at her shaggy mess of mis-matched hair, despite that I found the way it hung in her eyes charming. Her abundant curves also piqued my curiosity when I craved someone more substantial than the parade of identical Aos Si bodies Tir Na Nog offered. And what Maya considered dull fascinated me to no end. “She’s just so…plain.”
“Then why has saying as much reduced you to a rambling mess?” Father frowned, his eyebrows coming together with concern.
“I’ll meet you in your study after I’m done with these.” Heat crept up my neck, and I reverted my focus to the flowers.
“Have you need of help?” Father let go of Mother and joined me at the edge of the cobbled path.
“Your power disturbs them.” The daffodils had started to creep toward the Spear, but the pansies stayed obstinate. Breathing became difficult as my lungs burned from the effort. I was pouring too much of my magic into such a simple task. Yet if I did anything less, my flowers hardly noticed.
“May I watch then?” Mother’s voice had a touch of girlish excitement to it. I hadn’t heard that tone from her in decades. “I would love to see how you practice your craft.”
“You sure you don’t want to see the rest of the garden instead?” Maya put in.
“Nonsense, he only takes so long tending his plants because he keeps so many of them,” Father scoffed. “Mortal fingers may work for hours, but he is Aos Si. This should be a trifle.”
“Not if they don’t want to cooperate.” I gritted my teeth, thinking small prayers to Danu that Father wouldn’t notice the ancient, white hot force lying under Maya. The pansies grew over Maya’s legs instead of under them.
“Perhaps it’s the soil.” Father stretched his long fingers into the moist earth. “I will settle it.”
“I can settle my own soil,” I protested. “You’ll only make them worse.”
“A mite of trust, young son.” Father said. “After all, your mother did not give you your affinity with the ground. Remember, I persuaded a valley to separate into a river to purchase her return.”
“Oh my, what a feat, m’lord.” Mother bent over us at a genial distance. “That is truly a fortunate woman to have a lover who goes to such lengths for her.”
“Not as much as you would think,” Father said with a self-effacing smile. “I have done plenty to earn her scorn, as well.”
“My garden is not a valley to be parted,” I fussed. “You must be subtle and genuine to work with more delicate plants. You lack either of those qualities.”
“Stop your moaning and get to work, hmm?” Father started a soft song. The ground rumbled as it shifted under the path.
The man left me no choice but to redirect his magic. I sang a soft, tenor tune to better encourage blossoms to acclimate to his energy. The song was airy at best since I couldn’t put more breath behind the words.
My father’s deep voice harmonized with my melody, adding a bass undertone to the garden crooning. His odd power fed into mine and roots swayed to the rhythm of our voices. The flowers birthed fresh green sprouts out of the dark soil under Maya’s legs, and they absorbed the mass of the Spear, wrapping around the sharp blade and the angry magic of the shaft.
I nodded to Maya, signaling that the Spear was safely entombed.
Maya maneuvered around the new growth and returned to the path.
I wiped my brow on my sleeve as I gasped. My lungs burned, my heart raced, my legs spasmed. I had to sit back. What was Maya’s technique for calming a panic? Too many thoughts swam at once. I couldn’t recall it.
“Woah. Daire?” Maya ran to my other side when I wheezed my answer. “Head between your knees. Focus on one thing.”
“You stay away from him.” Father shoved Maya away and hovered over me. “Speak to me. What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t hold back the coughing fit anymore as my lungs rattled. It was as if my entire chest were compressing itself. I tasted thick fluid in the back of my mouth with each ragged breath. What was this?
“What’s…” Mother’s peaceful gaze snapped as she looked on at me. Her eyes widened, new awareness coming to them. She rushed over and cradled my shoulders, rocking me. “What did you do, Midir? Did you make him train again? You know he can’t tolerate those intense regimens of yours. He’s still only a child!”
“M-Mamai, I’m… I’m fine.” Another hack interrupted my reassurance. I braced myself against the ground.
“He isn’t winded, Etain.” Father set a shaking hand on my back.
“No, you stay away from him.” Mother tugged me away. “You’ve done enough.”
I bent over and focused on a single pebble in the path, as Maya had instructed. She had helped me before and knew the source of my turmoil. The spasms settled and the coughing calmed as I caught my breath. That fit left my chest sore.
“He used a lot of magic today making this place pretty.” Maya’s even tone gave me more peace than Mother’s chaotic comfort and Father’s intense, oppressive aura. I managed to find enough of a center with her direction that I could take measured breaths again.
“This affair is none of your business, changeling.” Father stood between Maya and me with a ready hand gripping his sword’s hilt. “Run back to your master. Your time here is done.”
Maya pushed herself to her feet and faced Father without flinching. She opened her mouth as if to say some biting remark. I looked up at her, pleading with my eyes for her to understand and hold back. She couldn’t let him know how much she helped me. Even a hint might give us away.
“I need him to send me back.” Maya planted her fists on her hips.
“You have two good legs.” Father pointed toward Riona’s patch of woods on the horizon. “Walk there yourself.”
“Llámame.” Call me. Maya turned away toward the forest. “Descansar un poco.” Get some rest.
“Te daré…un espejo pronto.” I’ll get you a mirror soon. I wheezed as I leaned into Mother’s arm.
“What did you both say?” Father knelt back to me and looked me over with suspicious eyes.
“Nothing important.” Another cough overcame me.
Mother lifted me up, letting me lean on her as she guided me toward the path. Father lingered by the unfinished patch of new irises among the daffodils and pansies. Did he sense the Spear? If he did, he didn’t say anything as he joined Mother and I.