I excused myself from Finvarra’s abode daily to report any news to Maya and apply new layers to the Spear’s hiding place. No one had discovered the legendary treasure resting in my garden yet. I couldn’t depend on that luck. We had to make progress. I harvested the plants I needed for the dream draught and explored Finvarra’s abode. I couldn’t risk wandering any further than our quarters in my physical state, lest Una send one of her agents to capture me.
I dragged myself along at a sluggish pace, absorbing Finvarra’s thick threads of aqua, green, and gold power. None were as intricate as Uliad, but they shared a universal system that spanned the grounds. Upsetting one would set off warnings everywhere. Many such alarms were clustered around the Cauldron’s resting place at the very end of the structure. The massive bronze bowl sat atop a pedestal in the center of its holding chamber. All manner of mirrors coated every surface of the domed walls, one for every Aos Si in Tir Na Nog by my count. Platters of lavish meals and wines flowed from the massive artifact to each glowing glass. I came long after the evening supper hour, and still dozens of dishes at a time flew from the Cauldron’s mouth.
I slogged back to my physical body and woke with my head in a daze. Every part of me ached and the dreamwalking only left a fraction of my power untouched. If I waited much longer, I might not have the strength to use that ability anymore. Ideas dashed to and fro through my mind in an obsessive frenzy, each as fruitless as the last.
“You did this to me didn’t you?” Mother’s shrill voice broke through my groggy thoughts. She pressed herself against the headboard of her bed and gaped across the room at Father.
“Lady Etain, I did not take your power or weaken you thus.” Father stood next to his cot by the hearth, and held up his bare palms in surrender. Scratches covered him and a fresh burn frayed his tunic. “I swear on all of my forefathers that I have done nothing. You are human from a tragic series of events my former wife inflicted on you. Your mind and memories are addled from how long you have lived in that mortal body.”
“How do you lie, Midir? No matter. I care not!” Mother glared at him, her nose wrinkling as she outstretched her fingers. Nothing happened. She pushed the empty air and no force came. “This won’t make me another one of your mistresses. I denied you once. I shall deny you again!”
“Mother, what’s going on?” This was an identity of hers I’d never seen. She knew of Father and remembered him. However she didn’t rail at him for the usual crimes of stealing her daughter, tricking her away from her husband, or closing her off from the world.
Mother turned to me with a puzzled frown.
“Mamai?”
“Do you speak of me?” She flinched, agast. “I have no children! I have laid with others, but I haven’t birthed a child. May that day never come. Do you mistake me for another, stranger?”
“About time you woke, boy.” Father offered his hand and helped me upright.
“What’s going on?” I addressed Father instead. What had she reverted to? What sorts of phantoms did she see to make her forget her only son?
“Lady Etain is once more the wild lass of centuries ago who I pined for from afar,” Father said with an edge of bitter nostalgia. “And she believes me to have stolen her essence and turned her mortal.”
“Don’t speak of me as if I am not standing before you!” Mother hurled a pillow at Father with more heft than I’d ever seen her show as a demure, courtly lady. “I know your intentions and your reputation very well, Midir the Proud. Is this another one of your hoard of sons and fosterlings?”
“Yes, he is. Though my children are less of a hoard these days.” Father caught the pillow and set it aside on his cot. He leaned over to me and mumbled, “Any ideas?”
“None whatsoever.” I could only blink. Did she see herself as in the prime of her youth, before she considered marrying Father? “I assure you, m’lady, we have met many times, though you don’t remember it.”
“So you’re in league with him?” Mother squinted as she gave me a closer perusal. “Is that you, Aengus? In some kind of disguise? You would certainly have the power to do this!”
Oh no.
Someone rapped at the door. A woman’s voice came from the other side—one of the usual patrols in charge of our corridor. “Is something amiss? I heard shouting.”
“Fetch my father!” Mother yelled. “There are a couple unwelcome intruders in my room.”
“It’s none of your concern,” Father added. “My wife and I are in the middle of a heated discussion, nothing more.”
“Your wife?” Mother took in the rest of the room as if seeking unseen figures among the furniture. “Did you sneak Fuamnach in here with us?”
“I was sent to inform you that dinner will begin soon, m’lord,” the guard said before her footsteps faded to another direction.
“Oh what a handful you are, dear heart.” Father groaned as he tugged his fingers through his hair. Hints of an amused grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Daire, I leave this in your clumsy hands.”
“As if she will listen to me any better like this,” I stammered. “Mother—”
“I am no one’s mother.” She threw another cushion my way.
Father caught it and flung it on his cot with the others.
“Lady Etain, then.” I approached with slow steps, always keeping my hands where she could see them. “Do indulge me a moment. Concentrate, if you will. Do you remember where you are?”
“Ludicrous.” Mother crossed her arms over her chest. “I am Etain, daughter of Ailill. We are in my father’s house. Where else would I be?”
“Ailill’s abode did not keep you within these oppressive walls.” Father gestured to the room and encompassed the all too human state of it. “Your wing had gossamer curtains held aloft by alabaster pillars. You loathed any barriers between you and the wind, the grass, the sun. Not even your horses were confined in stables, but allowed to run wild across the fields. This is a far cry from where you once lived.”
Mother’s shoulders twitched as she looked around. Neither the illusion of the thatch roof over our heads, nor the strong wood closing us in, resembled Father’s description. She shuddered as she withdrew under the fur covers. Real fear clouded her eyes before she squeezed them shut.
I sat next to her on the edge of the bed and touched her shoulder. “Mamai?”
“Who are you?” Mother jerked away.
“It’s me, your son.” I left my hand suspended between us. “Trust me, Mamai. Remember?”
“My son?” Mother inhaled, then let it all out at once. Her trembling calmed, and she clamped onto me. Her grip stayed tight, clawing even, like I was the only floating driftwood she could find while lost at sea. “Little swan. Yes. Daire.”
“Finvarra expects us to dine with him,” Father said as he approached. “I can send along my regrets and agree to another time.”
“But you never cancel anything.” All my life, my frequent tardiness unnerved him and brought out his most piercing remarks. Aunt Brigid used to say if he ever missed an event or a meeting, it meant someone had struck him down.
“You are running for High King,” Mother said, a note of mutual disbelief in her voice. “You mustn’t show such an error in front of a noble if you wish him to vote in your favor.”
“I couldn’t care less what any of them think of me,” Father said with a self-effacing grin. “I have put them before you for too long, and I am learning too late the consequences of those actions.”
“You called me addled more than once.” Mother scooted toward me. “You treated my condition as something to be hidden away, an unfortunate embarrassment.”
“I know. While I understand you can’t forgive centuries of neglect in a single evening, I would like to start building back some of the good faith we once had.” Father held her gaze, steady and sure. “It doesn’t matter to me that you have fits where you won’t remember it. They are a part of you now. I realize that.”
Mother fell silent as she stared him down. She didn’t reply, but let go of me and leaned over toward the end table where her brush lay. “Daire, make me a sapphire gown with gold trimmings. Do what you like with the designs. Your father has a High Kingship to win, and I intend to see that he succeeds so he will honor our deal.”
I flexed my power and tested to see if I could do as she asked. Even in my depleted state, I could deny her nothing. I went behind her and focused on altering the gown she already wore. It was easier to change a thing than create it from air. My glamour went out from me into her dress. The color flickered and changed to a deep, shimmering blue like the gemstone she spoke of. I gritted my teeth as I plucked a couple strands of my hair and used that to weave the gold trim she’d wanted into the hem and collar of the gown. My lungs burned as my paltry design revealed itself thread by thread. I clenched my jaw as I subdued my panting. A glamour that common shouldn’t have left me so winded.
“Good boy.” Mother didn’t seem to notice as she offered me a kind smile and patted my cheek. She held out her arm for Father, the smile falling away. “Shall we?”
Father graced her with a courteous bow and hooked his arm in hers. All my life she had preferred me to escort her. That was the first time I’d seen her willingly choose Father first.
* * *
A question still hovered unanswered on my mind as Father and Finvarra debated for the third night in a row: how could Maya and I take the Cauldron in secret? The only times it wasn’t in use were few and far between, feast days when all of Tir Na Nog gathered at Tara. Yet that wouldn’t happen again until Samhain. I couldn’t orchestrate an event that grand in the meantime, could I?
“Our mutual ancestor was known as a generous host, even more so during his rule,” Finvarra said, interrupting my thoughts. “He shared his power with everyone. Dagda the Good, remember? Your family hoarding the Key is tantamount to me deciding that his Cauldron should only supply food at my whims.”
“That is well within your right as its caretaker, your majesty,” Father replied, frustration boiling in his tone. He continued to wear the pommel of his sword with his thumb under the table. Mother stilled his weapon with her steady hand, and it stayed sheathed. “As it is within the High King’s right to keep such great power held at bay. It isn’t some bounty to be used at anyone’s whims. The Key is a protective measure that keeps us safe. Or do you forget the Fomor magic that exiled us from Eire and slaughtered the majority of our race, Connacht’s population included? I doubt it has disappeared from the lands. Even if it has, humanity still outnumbers us by the millions.”
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“Midir will surely be more flexible than his predecessor,” Mother added. “His Majesty Bodb Derg has grown weary with his many years on the throne. Do you think my husband will be the same when he’s newly crowned? The change of authority is sure to usher in an era of prosperity for what number we have left. And he will have me and our son as his council, two people very sympathetic to your cause. A compromise can be reached.”
“My people need a sign of good faith that he won’t repeat his eldest brother’s mistake of keeping Tara’s wealth locked away, including the Key’s privileges.” Finvarra tapped his fingers against the table in succession with each other. His attention drifted toward Mother’s chest as his eyes swirled. A sure sign he would dismiss us soon, as he had the night before.
“Have you ever tried withholding the Cauldron’s bounty?” I blurted.
Everyone at the table swiveled in my direction. I had fallen quiet up to that point and I took a timely bite of bread after the remark as the startled silence settled.
“No I haven’t, lad.” Finvarra threw a glare Father’s way. “I wouldn’t dare do that to the people of Tir Na Nog, not unless there was a feast where everyone could attend. That is the difference between my ruling style and the current regime.”
“Perhaps you might demonstrate your point for Father, then.” I set my roll aside and swallowed as the idea bubbled up. “Hold a grand feast and cut off the wealth of the Cauldron to everyone but Connacht’s subjects, if only for a night. Then he could see the consequences of his strict attitude for himself. At the same time, such an event could grant your considerable host some deserved rest from standing constant guard over the treasure.”
“Do you realize what that would do to my reputation?” Finvarra frowned as he crossed his arms. He resembled Bodb so much. All he needed was a waterfall of beard.
“At best, it would earn you a few more scathing rumors. At worst, a civil war will break out and our force would be all the more dedicated,” Una remarked with a shrug. “One night shouldn’t provoke that much ire, and it shows everyone how much power we wield over them. They have taken us for granted ever since your cousins took power. We are the lesser of the Dagda’s house, the lowest of the provinces. All this, despite having the second highest population and the most genuine animals salvaged from the mortal world.”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Mother nudged Father. “Don’t you agree, Lord-Husband?”
“For once, I agree with King Finvarra, though for different reasons. We shouldn’t risk upsetting the other provinces in such a way, not with the constant tensions between them. You may not care if a civil war breaks out, Lady Una, but that is the sole reason I paid a visit to your prosperous home. We cannot afford further division of our people.” Father shook his head at me in warning. That gesture always ordered me to keep my mouth shut, but when did that ever stop me?
“Cast an open invitation to all the people of every province,” I suggested. Mother offered me a proud smile as she caught on. She tended to see my connections better than others. “This feast would showcase the wealth of Connacht to all, as Lady Una likes, boast the generosity of King Finvarra’s rule, and demonstrate Connacht’s perspective. All while creating a new chance to bring the Aos Si together, as my father desires.”
“It stands to reason we all could learn something from my clever son’s idea.” Mother added on, addressing the three monarchs at once. “What say you?”
“I suppose the idea has merit when you put it that way.” Finvarra scratched the rugged stubble on his chin that he never bothered to shave.
“You almost sounded like a diplomat for a moment, Little Daire.” The way Una said it made her nostrils flare and lips purse with distaste.
“Because I am not a child anymore, m’lady.” I met her gaze, hard and resolute. “And if you wouldn’t mind, my name is Daire, Lord of Ivy. Nothing ‘little’ about it.”
Father’s mouth curled up for a moment, but the expression vanished as he nodded his assent. “It’s a fair plan, so long as all are welcome. Travel doesn’t pose much limitation to us. And don’t you enjoy hosting guests, your majesty?”
“Danu only knows I do.” Finvarra feigned a sigh as he leaned his chin on his fist. “We should begin to plan this party, shouldn’t we?”
Power emanated from the pouch on my belt, subtle and pulsing. I peeked inside to find my mirror glowing with a gold ring around its frame. Who would call me at that hour? The power felt like it came from me. Yet I couldn’t call myself. Did it come from the mirror I had given Maya?
“I’ll let you all discuss that without me.” I closed the pouch and stood from the bench, offering a cursory bow at my waist. “Apologies, but the time has come for me to depart. The gardens await.”
“Midir and I will come to fetch you soon and see what you’ve done.” Mother squeezed my hand goodbye as I walked from the table.
“I look forward to hearing all about it.” Father cast me a knowing look.
I would have to ask for a status report from Maya between discussing what she really needed me for. I marched my way back to our quarters.
* * *
“What is it?” I asked into the mirror as I pulled it out of my pouch. I’d closed the door to our quarters and locked it behind me. Returning home straightaway would be a challenge. My power hadn’t fully recovered from dreamwalking and glamouring Mother her dress.
“Hey, you busy?” Maya’s face appeared in the reflective surface and her voice seemed thick over the magical connection.
“A bit. We were in the middle of dinner.” I grinned with my triumph. “Speaking of which, I have good news.”
“Great. But first, I’m kinda lost.”
“How?” I searched behind her for hints. A small field of white flowers was behind her and spiny branches stretched over her head. That was the southern portion of the grounds, themed after winter.
“You weren’t in your room so I tried looking for you around the garden, but it’s huge. Then I remembered you were still staying with what’s-his-face and…” She trailed off and wiped her dribbling nose on her shirt collar. Her cheeks had wet splotches on them. Were those tear trails? “I think I’m somewhere on your dad’s property.”
“Maya, is something amiss?” My chest grew tense at those odd signs of sadness from her. I’d seen her despondent, resigned, but never distraught enough to openly cry.
“K-kinda.” Maya hiccupped and blinked hard. “I wasn’t sure if it was okay to talk to you about it ‘cause I knew you’d be mad, but I literally don’t have anybody else and I get it was stupid, but I got a little drunk and—”
“Say no more. Set the mirror down. I’ll be there in a moment.” I mustered the power I’d need to open a gate to her location. Coughing up both lungs would hurt far less than seeing my headstrong friend succumb to tears. Aengus had shown me how to use my emotions rather than my environment to fuel my magic and compel it to act. I pulled from my concern for Maya, the strongest feeling burning in my chest. What had reduced her to tears? Had Riona done something? An image of rushing through to save her came to mind, as if I were a chivalric knight and she were a damsel stranded in a tower. The notion that I fancied myself a hero, however silly, drove the magic to spread the mirror’s frame wide and let me through.
That rush of magic left me light headed and dizzy as I climbed through to a cobbled path and pulled my mirror in with me. My knees gave out as I stumbled against the stones, hacking and gripping my taut chest. It might have drained me, but I could rest while talking.
Beds of camellias and hydrangeas made the illusion of blue-tinted snow while evergreens shaded the paths rather than oaks. I had come out under a patch of firs. Maya sat there against one of the trunks and hugged her knees to her chin, her entire posture wound tight. She didn’t look at me yet, despite the ruckus I made as I caught my breath.
“That took longer to recover from than I expected.” I tentatively approached Maya and settled next to her, not touching but near enough for her to feel my presence. “What happened?”
She sucked in the piercing on her lower lip and picked up her mirror from the grass. I looked away until she arranged it back under her brassiere, crossing my legs as I waited. Bits of my strength returned once my breathing evened and my heart slowed.
“I think I did something stupid.” Maya wiped her cheeks with the heel of her hand. She still hadn’t met my eyes. “I mean, it didn’t feel stupid at the time, but I wasn’t thinking real straight and my head’s still kind of fuzzy.”
“You mentioned something about alcohol. I take it you had some of our wine. It seems harmless at first, but creeps up on you.” So many questions waited to come out. What had she done? Had Riona offered something to her without telling her what it was? Did my half-sister try to take advantage of Maya’s dazed state? If I bombarded her with too many queries at once, she might shy away and close off from me.
“Yeah. I didn’t even drink the whole cup and I’m a mess.” She clenched her jaw as she turned to face me. “Rio and I…we kissed.”
“What sort of kiss do you mean?” My suspicion got the better of me as I looked over her shirt for tears, dirt smudges from scurrying away, any signs of struggle. “Was it forced on you?”
“No. I kissed her first.” Maya swallowed as new moisture gathered around her eyelashes. “And she did the nice thing and pushed me away. I yelled at her. Now I feel like crap.”
A toxic mix of sour fear and disappointment ate at my concern. Anger threatened to join it. “What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t, alright?” She hugged her knees tighter to her. “Don’t think your lecture wasn’t playing in my head all the way here.”
“It’s more than the impossibility of that relationship.” Those darker emotions squeezed over my heart and my chest ached anew. “You know how dangerous she is. She could ruin both our chances at making it out of Tir Na Nog alive. Don’t you still want to leave?”
“Yeah, I get it,” Maya said through gritted teeth.
Part of me wanted to rail against her like when Father did something callous. But the faint moonlight peeking through the pine branches made her fresh tear-trails glisten. I pressed my mouth into a line, holding back more biting words. The ugliest reaction stayed buried: jealous hurt. I’d never felt that possessive sting before when she’d spoken fondly of Riona. Was it possible I also harbored the same kind of impossible infatuation?
“Forgive my harshness,” I said, softening my voice. The heroic idea that inspired the portal seemed even more ridiculous. She’d come to me seeking a confidant, not some daring champion. “Panic took control of my tongue for a moment.”
“I figured you’d be mad since I’m doing everything you told me not to.” Maya’s tension eased some, her arms relaxing. “Hell, I told myself not to do this. That didn’t work either.”
“The heart often has a mind of its own and makes us do foolish things, even if we know better.”
“Is it really that foolish?” Maya’s voice grew higher with uncertainty. “Once we got on the same page, she was really sweet. I’ve brought up going home before. She’s opened up to it a lot. We could try a few dates and see where it goes, couldn’t we?”
Of all the questions she could ask, why that one? I didn’t answer at first. Should I give her a gentle deception that would encourage her vain hope? Riona had done much the same when I helped her show Maya a falsified vision of Jennifer Diaz’s condition. Maya was happier for it, but eventually she would discover the uncertain truth about her mother’s dire fate. Riona’s scheme would be undone and Maya would know the part I played in it. While my vows kept me from telling her the mistakes of my sister and I outright, it would be worse to build on them.
“The chances are that bad, huh?”
“Nothing is impossible,” I started. “Let’s say that I survive to be free of the High King’s control, that Father or Riona takes the throne without any bloodshed, and that you are free to go home and carry on with whoever you want. The future between the two of you is still precarious. Where would the two of you live? Would you insist that it be the human world, where she would have to learn a whole new way of life, only to watch you die? Will you be willing to stay in Tir Na Nog with her, where you would outlive all you hold dear and endure the scandals of the Aos Si forever? I doubt either of you could maintain a courtship where you both were in separate worlds, since time flows so differently between here and there.”
“I’m not even thinking about a long term commitment yet.”
“True. Have you thought through the more immediate concerns?” I sifted through Mother’s descriptions of her dysfunctional history with Father. “Do you know for sure whether she shares your reservations about the future, or if she already sees you as a lifelong companion? Can you trust what she tells you? Do you know how you will deal with her innate possessive nature? Be warned, she has one like all Aos Si. No matter how much she controls it, she will have difficulty suppressing her jealous urges should you grow too close to someone else. That could very well lead to trickery so she can keep you hers.”
“So not impossible, just crazy complicated.” Maya sagged against her knees with a sigh. “And that’s even assuming she likes me back.”
“She does seem genuinely fond of you. Yet when Aos Si feel something, it is intense and consuming. It makes moderation difficult, and can overwhelm someone who is unsure. There’s no telling what the consequences will be.”
“She wouldn’t be cool living with me in the human world, would she?”
“I’m not sure. You might think of a discreet way to ask her.” I mulled over what I knew of my sister’s feelings. It didn’t amount to much. Her sire I knew all too well. “She might tolerate the prospect at first. But it would wear on her as you aged. Should you change your mind and wish to stay in Tir Na Nog forever, then she would happily whisk you away and you two might live together here. If you wanted to grow old and die, however, I cannot see her agreeing to let you go through with it.”
“Let me?” Maya wrinkled her nose. “But it’s my choice.”
“If she’s like Father, she would do everything in her considerable power to keep you alive and with her, whether you wanted it or not.”
Maya went quiet, looking past me into the decorative flower beds. She let her head rest against my shoulder.
“You should consider what you would like to do, then talk to Riona with that in mind.” I tentatively wrapped my arm around her, loose enough she could shrug it off at any time. Fatigue had nothing to do with how my heart pounded harder in my chest.
“Don’t worry. If I get to the point where I want to ask her to help us, I’ll run it by you first,” Maya said, almost as an afterthought. I believed her, without a doubt in my mind. “You said you had news about that?”
“Yes, I devised a plan for the Cauldron.” I stayed still, as if a single twitch would send her racing away. “We don’t have to discuss it yet. Is there more on your mind?”
“Not that I’m ready to talk about.” She leaned into my arm. “Can we sit here for a bit?”
“Always.”
Chains rattled further up the path. I glanced up, frozen in place. My sister drifted to a halt in front of us.