I looked at Wil, really looked at him, and realized that he was a handsome man. His body was fit and muscular, his eyes were gentle and he had a strong jaw line. Then it hit me. She was the oracle. The one who’d prophesied everything, the one who had seen her daughters killing each other. And she’d had us anyway. It boggled my mind and yet, even with that, everything she’d done and said made ridiculous sense in that context.
She did not give all the prophecies. I gave the first, as I was the oracle before her. She gave the second, after the two of you were born. It was then that she revolted, that she rebelled and did her best to stop loving you girls.
Cora’s words rocked me and I stumbled outside, ignoring Bres’ concern. “Why tell me this now?”
I feel that it’s the right time.
Standing outside the covered shop, I struggled to grasp this new twist. “Does that mean Ashling or I is next in line?”
You will be the next oracle; it is through the Tuatha blood that that calling is passed.
Just what I needed, another responsibility.
You won’t gain it until your mother is very old. You have time before that happens.
Turning, I headed back into the shop. I would deal with the prophecy/oracle business when I had to. Right at that moment, it wasn’t the time.
My eyes met Wil’s hazel ones. “Why her?” I asked, not looking at anyone else. Wil cleared his throat.
“Your Mama, and I . . .”
Paddy snorted. “He’s been in love wit her and she wit him for their whole bloody lives. But her damn interfering mudder, she stopped ta marriage. It soured your mama, made her a bit crazy.”
Wil nodded. “Tis true. I love her. Want her here wit me.”
That man could have been my father if things had turned out differently. “I won’t force her,” I said.
Angus started to laugh. “You won’t have to, Lass. All right. We’ll make ta sword for ya. You send your mama back here and ta deal is done.”
They shooed us away into the house, the sounds of bellows and hammers on steel following us. “How long?” I asked.
“As long as it takes.” Was the only answer they gave.
The interior of the house was cool and clean. I plunked down on one of the sturdy wooden chairs, my thoughts racing. “Did you know that my mother was the oracle?”
He shook his head. “No, whenever the oracle came to see my father, it was at night and her face was covered. But I suspected.”
Resting my head in my hands, I tried to understand why a woman would have children knowing that they would kill each other. That was the only part that didn’t make sense. Over and over, I turned it in my mind, trying to find the reason why. Because, while I’d told myself we were done, Darcy was still my mother, and if there was a chance we could reconcile, it might be worth the try. Maybe.
“I’m going outside a minute,” I said, pushing my chair back with a loud scrape. Bres poured a mug of tea. “Here, take this with you.” The clay mug was heavy, meant for much larger hands than my own.
I lifted it to my lips and the faint taste of Fairy Honey whispered across my tongue. The ache in my body from the mad dash of flight began to ease within seconds. Clutching my mug, I stepped back outside and went to watch the three Smiths.
The sight was awe-inspiring. They moved as a unit, a well-oiled machine. Paddy held a piece of metal with a huge pair of tongs while Wil and Angus struck it with hammers, one right after the other. The pounding of the metal was rhythmic and steady. Neither Angus nor Wil moved; it was Paddy who made adjustments by shifting the steel on the anvil.
I wanted to talk to Wil, but knew that I couldn’t interrupt him, not now.
Bres came to stand beside me, putting one hand on the small of my back. “We’re almost there, Quinn. Be easy on yourself for a moment. Rest. Ta battle will be here soon enough.”
Leaning into his side, I knew he was right. I’d be facing off against Chaos, Ashling, before I was ready.
Without a word, Bres took my hand and led me away from the forging. We walked to the edge of the clearing where a well-worn path started. Again, he led, but didn’t let go of me.
Along the edge the flowers bloomed, the scent of them filling the air. I took a deep breath and let it out in a slow sigh. For a moment, maybe I could forget what was coming.
The path led us to another small clearing, this one more like the Banshee bowers. Enclosed, private and peaceful. A bench sat in the middle next to a pond that was full of colourful darting fish.
Bres took me over to it and sat me down. “This is a good spot to rest.”
I smiled up at him and he ran his finger along the edge of my jaw. Our eyes met and I couldn’t look away, captured by his violet gaze. Slowly, inch-by-inch, he leaned into me until our lips touched and in that moment the world was all right, the wrongs of it kissed away.
His arms wrapped around me, the tea mugs forgotten as he claimed my mouth. Tongue delving deep, I could taste the Fairy Honey on his lips, along with the flavour that was solely him. He slid his hands under my shirt, running his fingers up and down my spine, tracing patterns that made my skin shiver with anticipation.
I pulled back to catch my breath. “Bres, I . . .”
“Hush, I know you love us both,” he said against my lips, pulling me into his lap. “For now, we are both yours.”
11
Hours passed as Bres and I lay in the seclusion of the trees, wrapped around one another, dozing between kissing and tasting one another. There was a peace here, not just in that place, but in his arms. Safety was a feeling I’d almost given up on.
Sometime in the middle of the night, Bres stood. “Come, let me show you some moves with ta sword. You will be needing it when it comes to Chaos.”
Basic swordplay was, in theory, easy to understand. But it was not so easy to learn in a single night. Bres settled for showing me how to block effectively.
We used two long sticks and he had me do the blocks repeatedly, until I felt like the Karate Kid with his first lesson.
“Wax on, wax off. I think I get it,” I said, smiling up at Bres.
His brow crinkled. “This has nothing to do with wax.”
A burst of laughter I couldn’t contain rippled out of me. It felt good, and that made me feel guilty for that spurt of happiness. “Never mind. I think I’ve got it.”
“Let’s try a basic attack.” He slid through the move, making it look easy.
I stumbled the first time, and then slowly, my body did as I asked. Over and over I repeated the movement.
Bres waved his hand. “That is as good as I think we are going to get. Just remember one thing: don’t let her in your guard. If you do that, it’ll all be over. Don’t let her get past your sword. Okay?”
“Got it. Don’t let her stab me.” Again, I chuckled, the dark humour suiting me for the moment. Bres didn’t laugh.
Sitting back down, he tugged on my hand. “Sit with me.”
Curling up next to him, I wondered how much longer it would be. Would the process take days? I wasn’t sure we had that much time. I laid my head against his shoulder. What would happen if we made it through this alive, all of us? Would I be able to choose between the boys? The night drifted around us, and with it, my thoughts wandered in and out of the present, past and future.
The distant hammering was a continuous sound, so when it stopped I sat up with a bolt. I’d fallen asleep in Bres’ arms and the night sky had faded to early dawn, the last of the stars winking out above the clearing.
I touched his face gently, waking him. “They’ve stopped,” I whispered, not wanting to break the spell that had stolen us from the world of battles and death for a short time.
Bres sat up and ran his hand through his hair. Giving me a last lingering kiss, he stood, holding his hand out to me. “Let’s go see what they’ve got for you.”
We made our way back down the path, the way lit by fireflies and the faded, distant twinkling of the stars above our heads. I could see my mother here, could see her living out her days in this peace and stillness away from the troubles of the world. I only hoped she would come here and not make me give some other form of payment to the Smiths.
The forge fire was still lit, and its light filled the main clearing like a bonfire. In front, stood the three Smiths, Angus just ahead of Wil and Paddy. Across his arms lay a sword covered by a white cloth.
“Quinn, daughter of ta oracle.”
I walked towards him, stopping only a few feet away. This had the feeling of a ceremony, something I didn’t want to screw up. “I am here.”
“We have forged for you a sword of power. Wield it wit honour and justice, do only ta harm you must and no more. This is the creed of the blade. Carnwennan.” He spoke the name as he placed the hilt into my hand and the cover was drawn from it.
It was still the hilt that my dagger had borne, bone, nearly white with wear. That was where the similarities ended. Just above the handle, set into the cross guard of the blade, was Aednat’s stone. The gem was inset so that it was showing blue on one side and green on the other. The actual length of the sword was just enough for me, not the massive blades that Luke and Bres carried.
I held it lightly, feeling the weight of it, feeling the connection between me and it. Lifting my eyes, I couldn’t stop the tears that fell. This was the weapon I would kill Ashling with, that Aednat’s soul now resided in. Bres came up behind me and circled me with his arms.
“There’s still a chance. You have to believe, Quinn.” He whispered into my ear.
Wil stepped forward. “He be right. Don’t give up. Not on love. Your mama, she had you and Ashling because she believed in ta prophecy and knew it needed to come to pass, if our worlds would be mended. She laid her heart on ta altar of sacrifice, to save ta world. Can you do any less?”
My throat closed up. I knew he spoke true and it shamed me to know how Darcy had been forced to give up her own dreams and the love of a man who cared for her, to fill a stupid prophecy.
“No, I won’t do any less,” I said.