Day 13 of Midwinter, Sunrise

The Deep Realm

Annwn

On the other side of the doorway, a huge space opened up before me. It looked like a combined meeting space and throne room of sorts. Though the room appeared to be carved out of stone, it was not rough-hewn. I had the sense that everything here had been carved by a master thousands of years ago.

Raised tabletop-like objects of stone lined either wall, leading to a set of stairs at the far end. The stones were higher and wider than a chair, but lower than a table. I supposed there was no such thing as an adjustable stone chair or table, so why not make something that served both purposes?

Ahead was an open space in the ceiling where there must have been a high concentration of the glowing plant creatures, as most of the light for the room came from there. A chandelier with spaces for hundreds of candles hung from the ceiling. Atop the stone steps, a brazier burned bright and hot. Beyond that, I could see the throne.

Two very large Fomorians exited the room as I entered. Neither of them barred my entrance, instead slipping past me. They spoke in hushed tones and carried papers that looked suspiciously like maps.

“Búachaill,” a familiar voice said. While the voice had originated from somewhere behind the brazier, it echoed off the walls. “Maccán isn’t nearly as flattering.”

I had to climb the stairs to the fire of the brazier before I could see them clearly. Neither Cai nor the man beside him held weapons. They sat facing one another as if caught mid-conversation. Cai half-turned to address me as I approached.

“Maccán means ‘adopted son.’” My brother stood and approached me, stopping an arm's distance away. “I am pleased that you have come. We didn’t get a chance to say goodbye the last time we saw each other.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You mean, when you stole the Stone from me?”

He nodded. “I’m sorry about that. I would have much preferred you to join us then." He paused. "I did offer.”

“Would you have joined, if you were me?”

“Likely not,” he admitted. “But you’re here now, and you have somehow done something that I never thought possible...something that might have turned the tide of the war.”

What was he talking about? Did he mean finding my way to the island? Was he suggesting that I aided in some way in the capturing of Tadg?

He could see my confusion. “You claimed the domain of Chaos while another god possessed it.”

“How does that change the war?”

“We are a duality, you and I. Has anyone explained that concept to you yet?” I nodded. “Then you must know I was granted the Harmony domain as a balance to your Chaos.”

“We guessed as much.”

He took a half step closer to me. “You have no idea how my boons have evolved over the last few days. It has made the movements of the various chess pieces so clear to me.”

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He stopped, seeming to remember where he was. He glanced back to the man who I knew must be King Neit. “Forgive my rudeness. You must meet my father and king.”

“Adopted father,” I corrected.

“It matters not.” The king's voice was deep. He rose to his full height, looking me up and down. He nodded to himself as if affirming something he held to be true. His curly mohawk was framed by bluish-green tattoos on the bald sides of his head. His mustache and beard grew together into a bushy point. I knew immediately that this was a hard man. Just having him turn his gaze to me made me want to shrink down into myself.

“Do you know what makes a good father?” King Neit asked me. The question felt like a trap, so I stayed silent. When I didn’t answer, he continued, “A good father is one who knows his children and anticipates their needs. A father that is not present cannot do that.”

The king’s physical presence was awe-inspiring, but was he the kind of man who tore down others to make himself feel better? When he continued, I realized he wasn’t talking about our biological parents at all.

“I failed to understand and anticipate the needs of Balor, Corb, and those that followed them. For your losses, I am very sorry. For Ruadan’s losses, I am very sorry.”

“But you are preparing for war, too," I responded. "I can see it in the ships moored off-island. I can see it in the battle plans that your soldiers just carried out of this room.”

Cai stepped nearer, placing his hand on my shoulder. “War is coming to us. We can either lie down or we can defend ourselves.”

I thought back to the scene at Brú na Dallta. Cai wasn't wrong. The Overking was massing forces from both Murias and Falias if the heraldry was any indication. I explained what I had seen. “They were decked out in all kinds of magic items.”

Cai looked at Neit with an “I told you so” look.

“So…” King Neit's expression was troubled. “Nuada is using the Cauldron to equip his army. How is our average soldier to compete with that?”

Cai looked thoughtful. “The Cauldron’s magic isn’t unlimited. It can be emptied like any other container. And the potency of the magic is dependent on who is trying to use the relic. Assuming they don’t have the god of magic-wielding it, the benefit to each soldier would be so minor as to be inconsequential.”

“Now I see why The Dagda left Annwn,” I blurted. Cai and King Neit looked at me incredulously. “Oh…he’s back now. Wait, how do you know so much about what's happening on the mainland?”

“Show him,” Neit commanded.

Cai waved his hand over the brazier. The fire was immediately extinguished. I didn’t even feel any residual heat. Behind where the flames had been was a perfectly transparent liquid.

“This is a Blaze Diviner. It allows us to keep an eye on what is happening with our friends and foes…really, anyone who isn’t protected from such magic. Is there someone you would like to…” His voice trailed off.

“What? What were you going to say?”

“You must be very careful what you ask to see in the oil of this item. It will show you life. It will show you death. It will show you betrayal.”

I thought about who I most wanted to see, then froze. What if something terrible had happened to Morias or Fíadan? When I left Fí, she was preparing to go to her death. In my vision of her at the castle, she had been fighting Balor’s Fomorians against seemingly insurmountable odds. Morias had been at death’s door.

Cai saw my paralysis. He stepped up to the brazier. “Show me, Brigid.”

Part of me wanted to scream at him for taking away my chance to see what had become of my friends, but I could also tell he had done it to protect me from myself and was grateful.

The pool of oil began to swirl with color. I felt as almost as if I were being pulled into the large bowl. It was a very realistic optical illusion. Before me, I saw tall buildings and crowded streets. I guessed that I was seeing Falias, which would make sense. That is where she requested to go with Tadg. I thought back to what Ruadan said about his mother. “I want you to remember all those Fae that died for their Fiery Queen…a Queen who wasn’t there.”

The picture in the oil began to zoom into and through structures. It penetrated buildings and flew through the crowds. Eventually, it soared through the halls and stairwells of one of the more ornate buildings. It halted in a sparse room.

At first, I thought the beautiful woman I had met in the meeting halls of Gorias was sleeping, as she was lying on a stone platform and wearing a cloth around her eyes. The room held no other furniture, and I could see no food, and no doors or windows. When my eyes caught on the bindings around her neck, wrists, and ankles, I knew the truth. The Breo-Banríon was a prisoner.