Day 8 of Midwinter, Midday

Outskirts of Findrias, Emain Ablach

Annwn

The explosion worked pretty well. At least, it knocked everyone on their butts, faces, and other peoples’ butts and faces. Though Monty and I were spared from the worst effects, we were still knocked back by the power of the energy explosion.

“That hurt…” I moaned, trying to figure out which way was up.

“What was that?” Monty asked.

I struggled painfully to my feet, after dislodging a small, fairy-like creature from my face. Fortunately, the fairy had taken the brunt of the explosion…fortunate for me, at least. Monty assumed his regular spot on my shoulder.

“Come with me,” I heard Nemain say as she moved at a diagonal to the city. I chanced a glance back to her mob to find none of them standing.

“Did you kill them?” I asked incredulously, chasing after her. She didn’t answer.

We made our way along the cloud-shrouded periphery of the eastern side of the city. The crowds here had thinned out, as had the entrances to the city. The mob must have decided it wasn’t prudent to follow us, at least for the moment. Nemain scanned the stone of the cliff wall with her eyes. She groped with her hands until she came to a small trickle of water.

She glanced around to see if anyone was watching, and when she was sure the coast was clear, she began climbing. Her hands had disappeared into the cloud we were standing in as she grasped at rocks lining the cliff face. “Don’t worry, the defenses of the city won’t trigger if you climb with me.”

I reached into the vapor and felt the cold, damp air of the mist on my skin. “I wasn’t worried about that until literally this moment.”

I climbed up and up the cliff face, following behind Nemain. The longer we climbed, the more the sensation of gravity shifted. Though it appeared we were still traveling upward, my vestibular system told me we were traveling horizontally. It was an odd sensation, but one I didn’t want to think too hard about.

After a time, I realized our upward momentum had ceased. The clouds around us had become thicker and the rock wall I had attached myself to was simply…gone. I found myself standing in a room that slowly started to become more visible. I could see my own limbs first, along with Monty, then Nemain came into focus.

The room itself wasn’t large or ornate. It was a pristine white with a single door, with no handle that I could see. This was a holding area, I realized, for those who managed to find the secret entrance into Cloudfair.

Nemain looked back to me, as if to check that I had followed up behind her. She nodded to me, then walked to the door. She gave a series of knocks on the door…thud, thud, thud, thud….thud, thud. Forty-two?

“Do this room really only have a two-digit combination?” I couldn’t believe the High Council would allow for less than eight to sixteen characters.

Nemain shrugged. “We don’t need more than two digits. If someone uses the wrong combination, they are instantly killed.” She pointed to the murder holes lining the room. I had only heard about them in comic books, but they were everywhere in the room, even in the floor and ceiling.

There was the sound of a bolt sliding, and I saw the door open slightly. “Open the door, Jerome. It is Nemain.”

“Yes, m’lady,” a voice said from behind the door, before it opened wide. The antechamber within was plain and utilitarian. There were weapon racks filled with crossbows and pikes, along with ladders and trap doors that I imagined led to the murder holes in the harder-to-reach places.

Jerome, the attendant, nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Monty. “Is that what I think it is?”

Monty looked up at me with a question in his eyes, and I instantly knew what he was thinking. “No, you can’t eat him.” Jerome took a hasty step back.

Nemain looked back at me, then motioned for me to walk through the next set of doors, which led to a hallway with a deep brownish-red wood. The hallway took us through a series of increasingly ornate rooms, each filled with paintings that reminded me of artists whose names made me think of ninja turtles.

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As we walked, a larger and larger contingent of Ellyllon guards assembled behind us. There were now twelve in all, each wearing an emerald green tabard with a white reaper scythe, the handle of which appeared to be made of bone. As in Flamebright, the guards were all women.

I nearly bumped into Nemain as we neared another doorway. She had stopped in front of the door, where she gave a small bow before entering. Not sure what else to do, I mirrored her gesture and entered behind her.

The room before me was deathly silent. There were, however, several people seated at a large wooden table in the center of the room. Eight chairs sat at the table, though only five were currently filled. The four women and single man were eerily silent.

“This don’t look good,” I heard a voice in my head say. Monty’s lips drew back to reveal his razor sharp teeth.

Each of the people in the room wore a serious expression. The man appeared to be scanning the doorway we had come through, as waiting for someone else to enter. He was lean and bearded, with chiseled cheekbones. His long, reddish-brown hair was pulled back into what I had thought was a haircut reserved for women until I had seen Chris Hemsworth rocking it in the Thor movie.

“Where is Lugh?” skinny Thor said.

There was a long silence. Nemain bowed her head to the man. “I’m sorry, Uncle, but my cousin has fallen in battle to the Fomorians.”

The man looked confused. “Someone defeated my boy in combat? This is a tale I would like to hear from him directly. How long until he arrives from the Pool?”

A deeper silence sat heavy on the group. One of the women spoke up. She looked exactly like Nemain. In fact, now that I looked closer, I saw that two of the women looked like Nemain. Did The Morrigan have two identical twins? Triplets?

“He will not be coming back from the Heart-shaped Pool, Uncle. His light has gone to Uffern. I have seen it.”

The room erupted into shocked cries. The group rushed to Nemain’s side, bombarding her with questions. I was left as a voyeur to the chaotic reunion, feeling awkward as I watched another set of Otherworlders find out that gods could die after all.

It was a few minutes before I realized that one woman hadn’t gotten up from the table. She caught my eye and motioned me to come forward. She was young and beautiful, with braided red hair. She had freckles and pouty lips, and though her relatives all sported the green garb of Findrias, she wore a dress a shade lighter than her hair. I don’t think I had ever seen that shade of reddish-brown.

I was transfixed. I felt like I was floating as I made my way to her. I simply did as she commanded. She beckoned. I sat. She gifted me the pleasure of hearing the sound of her voice. “I don’t know your name or your birth, but I do know one of mine when I see them.”

I knew I was staring, but I couldn’t help it. “Do I know you?”

“That is a common feeling, I am told, upon meeting the patron of your world.”

I knew her then. Nemain had told me of her sister. The patron goddess of Ériu, which was named for her. In her face, I saw the most beautiful feature of every woman I had ever laid eyes on. She looked like everyone, and somehow also no one I had ever met.

“You claim Earth as your home, but that is not the full story is it?” It was odd, she looked to be my age, but she addressed me as a much older mother would her long lost son.

“Are you Ériu?” I asked, trying to shake off this sense of nostalgia. She just smiled and looked around the table.

I followed her gaze and saw that the members of this council had returned to their seats. How long had they been seated? Some of them had tears in their eyes, but most wore an even more serious look than when I had arrived, which was saying something.

The triplets sat on one side of the table. Who did Nemain say her other sisters were? Badb and Macha? Ériu and I sat across from the triplets. There was another woman on my side of the table, past Ériu, that I hadn’t paid much attention to yet. Skinny Thor sat at the head of the table, farthest from me, glaring daggers in my direction.

Nemain’s voice broke the tension. “Forgive him, Cian. Bren did not realize he was sitting in Lugh’s seat.”

I shot to my feet, feeling like I had just committed the worst possible faux pas. The man motioned at the other end of the table. There was an open chair there, across from him…Cian, apparently. The father of Lugh.

I fought the urge to activate my Rings on all of the members present. But the man began speaking and knocked me out of my internal meanderings. “Thanks to Nemain, we now have more information about the Fomorian threat, though this information came at a too high price.” He paused and narrowed his eyes at me. “This is Bren Búachaill. Fosterling of Morias ó Falias. Guest of Flamebright. Former wielder of Lía Fáil.” He paused again. “Brother to Cai Maccán.”

A collective gasp went through the council of assembled Tuatha and the guards. Everyone seemed shocked by this revelation, save for Nemain, Ériu, and Badb.

Badb stood and the room fell silent. This was the sister that confirmed she had “seen” Lugh’s death when we first entered. “You know that my gifts reveal themselves in due time…not always when we wish they would.” She gave a grim nod to her uncle at that. “Though we were already at war with the Fae and the Fomorians, I daresay this new revelation makes Cai Maccán and his Fomorians all the more dangerous.”

“But we also now know that Cai sustained a mortal wound during his battle with Nemain and…Lugh,” Cian said.

“Cai is not dead,” Badb said in a flat voice.

“How is this possible?” This question came from the woman I hadn’t yet identified.

“Mother Ernmas,” Badb continued, turning to the woman, “I believe you are no longer the youngest offspring of the god of life.”

Cian slapped a palm on the table. “There has not been another first generation of Tuatha for thousands of years. What makes you think this has changed now?”

Nemain had been nodding at Badb’s words. She stared down the table, searching her own feelings. “I felt it too when I fought him. I believe Cai Maccán has been given dominion over the domain of Chaos.”

There was a collective round of inhalations. Then, everyone in the room turned their gazes to me.