14
They went down, down, down a spiral staircase that seemed to go on into infinity, until Idris was carrying Oisin, and all of them were aching and out of breath. When they finally reached the bottom, a natural chamber carved in ages past by the flow of some underground stream, they all leaned against the wall for a moment, panting and stretching their legs. Fenella emerged from the darkness, her expression both relieved and anxious. Oisin ran forward and embraced her. He’d been very quiet since they rescued him. Maeve supposed that even though they hadn’t been physically harmed, the experience had probably been terrifying, especially for a child who had, before now, known nothing but a happy and loving home.
“What took you all so long? I was starting to get worried,” Fenella asked, a little testily. Idris scowled at her.
“Not all of us can flit from shadow to shadow like hummingbirds,” he retorted. “That was an extremely long staircase, and we’re all a bit tired.” Fenella put a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re right; I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that the Cauldron gives off a strange aura, and even with the state the castle is in, I can hardly believe they’ve left it so unguarded. The whole thing has me on edge.”
Idris nodded. “I think we’re all a little rattled. Something about this whole thing has been off. Everything has been too easy.” He reached out for Maeve’s hand and she took it, lacing her fingers with his. “All we can do now is see it through to the end. Rhosyn and Fenella, you stay back with Oisin in case something happens. This is something Maeve and I need to do together.”
Maeve felt love well up in her heart. Logically, if he was expecting trouble, he should have asked his sister to come with them, but he didn’t. Because they were partners, in this and in everything. Perhaps right now things weren’t exactly equal between them, but she knew he would support her until they were. She squeezed his hand.
“The Cauldron is in a vault beyond the next chamber, which looks like it’s intended for some kind of ritual,” Fenella said. “I can sense traces of a lot of old magic, but no wards. Not even detection spells. Perhaps they thought no one would be able to get past the prison.”
“So you haven’t actually seen the Cauldron,” Idris said, his tone flat rather than accusing. “We’ll have to expect trouble,” he said. He opened the door, and they stepped through. Nothing happened. It was a large chamber, lit with a number of red magical lamps that gave Maeve the impression of being inside a glowing ember. As Fenella had said, the floor was engraved with magical symbols, the preparation for or remnant of a complex ritual of some kind. On the other side of the room was a metal door. Maeve could feel the strange magic coming from the other side of it. There could be no mistake; the Cauldron of Rebirth was definitely on the other side. But, of course, the door was locked.
“You won’t be able to open it,” said a familiar voice. Maeve and Idris spun around, and sure enough, it was Conall, leaning against the wall as if he’d been there all along. “Only my father and I are keyed to that lock.”
“Do you have any idea what’s behind that door?” Maeve said, letting out all of her frustration and anger at once. “That’s the Cauldron of Rebirth. Our grandfather stole it, and that’s why our whole family is cursed.”
“That can’t be true…” Conall said, shaking his head. She could almost see the war within him as his eyes lingered on her before his expression settled into a cold hard mask. “But it hardly matters. I’m here for you, not for anything else. Why did you come back? Why risk your neck for these people? You know Father will never let you go now.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fenella and the others creeping closer.
“They are a truer family than anyone here has ever been,” she replied, feeling somehow hot and cold all at once, her fists clenching so hard that her nails bit into the flesh. “But even so, we could have been gone, with no one the wiser, except I wanted to free everyone from the curse. Even you and Father, who have done little to deserve it.”
Her brother took a step backward, as hurt by her words as he was confused. “Can the curse truly be reversed?” Maeve never got to answer him, as another person appeared beside him, a visage that made her blood turn to ice.
“She doesn’t know that for sure; she’s just guessing,” said Lord Cian in his cold voice. “And now you’ve all fallen into my trap. I can finally have my revenge on those sanctimonious fools from the Court of the Heavens. And no one in my own court will dare to oppose me ever again.” Without so much as a conscious thought Maeve darted sideways to Rhosyn and Oisin, pressing down the button on the bracelet that Idris had given her weeks ago. As he cried out in surprise, she slipped the bracelet onto Rhosyn’s arm.
“Hold onto Oisin,” Maeve said, and a second later, Idris’s siblings disappeared in a flash of light. Meanwhile, Fenella raced forward and tackled Conall. Before he could react, she had him on his knees with a blade at his throat, his hands magically bound behind him.
“You! I trusted you!” he shouted, indignant. Fenella smiled wickedly and kissed his cheek, not removing the knife from his neck.
“And I’m rather fond of you, my dear Prince, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you hurt my family,” she said in a sweet voice. Everyone else left in the room was gaping in confusion. Lord Cian was the first to recover.
“Perhaps it is better this way. Just Prince Idris and I, and whoever is victorious may take possession of my daughter,” he said, his smile vicious.
“Maeve is not an object,” Idris growled. “She is with me because she wants to be.” A pair of blades appeared in his hands, a sword in his right and a long dagger in his left, both with a subtle curve, almost like a fang.
“You will fight with your hands and not with the magic that is your birthright?” Cian said, scoffing even as he backed up in surprise and summoned his own sword, a huge, monstrous blade of black metal and glowing with sinister runes.
“I can do both,” Idris said, and a glowing, white light sprouted from his brow, covering him in a shield of shimmering starlight. His sword was wreathed in a cloud of ice that steamed in the air, and his dagger erupted into flames. Cian raised his eyebrows, perhaps impressed despite himself. The two men circled each other. Maeve wanted to help Idris, but she wasn’t sure what she could do that wouldn’t just be getting in the way.
“I am curious about one thing,” Lord Cian said. “Why isn’t Maeve still locked up in your basement, howling for blood? I suppose you too were forced to bring her some unfortunate mortal to slake her thirst, yet she seems not to hold it against you.”
She stepped forward, determined to speak for herself, though the words were more for her brother to hear. “Idris gave me his own blood, since he is half mortal. It’s funny, isn’t it, that blood freely given worked just as well? He nearly died, but if I hadn’t waited so long, I might have been able to hold myself back from taking so much.” Cian spun around in surprise, glaring at her, and that gave Idris a chance to strike at his unprotected back. There was a flurry of magic and flashing metal, and both combatants sprang apart, panting. Idris had a shallow cut across his forehead, but Lord Cian was not untouched.
“Is that true?” Conall rasped, still kneeling at Fenella’s mercy.
“Interesting, isn’t it? If you were careful, there would be no need to kill mortals at all. Probably you could find a few willing victims every month, maybe even here in the Otherworld among the illegitimate children of the nobility,” Fenella said, her voice like honeyed venom. Conall had an expression like he’d been smacked over the head with something heavy, and it slowly transformed to anger.
“What does it matter to me if a few mortals die every month?” Cian sneered. “They breed like rabbits anyway.” He lunged at Idris, who sprang away from the blade and inside his guard, scoring a grazing hit along his ribcage.
“It means you lied to us!” Maeve shouted. “For no reason other than to feed your own cruelty.”
“I was trying to make you strong. To do what needs to be done to secure our kingdom, not like these milksop weaklings from the Court of the Heavens,” Cian hissed. Blades clanged together and the Lord jumped away with a yell, his sword falling from nerveless fingers.
“We seem to be doing all right for ourselves,” Idris said, kicking the sword away. “I think it’s about time you gave up, Lord Cian. Let us take the Cauldron and try to free everyone from the curse.”
“Never,” Cian said, drawing a dagger from his belt. “The curse gives us power. And someday, I will unlock the secrets of the Cauldron, and then I will be able to bring her back to life.” Maeve blinked, finally understanding. Whatever he had been before, her father was now so twisted by grief he could no longer recognize reality.
“The Cailleach is dead. You can’t work the Cauldron without her, and she won’t come back unless it’s restored to its place in the Underworld,” Maeve said, her voice cold. Cian snarled and darted toward her, dagger raised.
“You’re wrong! Everything about you! You should never have even been born!” There was nowhere to go. Maeve closed her eyes, waiting for the blow but it didn’t come. She felt something warm and heavy slump against her legs. When she opened her eyes, it was her worst nightmare come to life. Idris was collapsed on the ground, the dagger protruding from his abdomen. He wheezed, and blood frothed on his lips. The vision in the Underworld had come true.
She screamed, anger, fear, and sorrow all welling up at once within her, and she felt her body changing. It was like the curse transformation but without pain, and much quicker. She fell onto her hands and knees and felt fur prickling all along her back. Her spine elongated and glistening canines sprouted from her gums, until she stood, a huge, red wolf, interposing herself between her father and the man she loved.
There was another yell. Conall had suddenly flipped Fenella onto her back, and her dagger was in his hands. Cian laughed, insane and malevolent. “So this is how it ends? Will you really give your life for this half-blood whelp? Just because he took you to his bed and gave you pretty words?”
She growled low in her throat, her fur bristling. I love him, she said, her mind voice loud and echoing. He is my husband. Cian blinked in surprise as she revealed the last secret. That was the thing Fenella had suggested, a drastic measure to ensure her father had no lawful recourse. The ancient laws of the Aos Si were outdated and paternalistic, but in this case, it served their goals. She was no longer a part of Cian’s family, and he had no hold over her.
The truth seemed to sink in, and her father’s face contorted with rage. “You can’t be married if he’s dead,” Cian said savagely, seizing her by the scruff in an effort to shove her aside. Then there was a strange noise, a swish, followed by a wet thunk. Everyone stared at the dagger now embedded in Cian’s chest, and then Maeve looked at Conall. He was shaking, and his face was white, but his expression was grim. “You betrayed me?!” Cian moaned, anger and confusion warring.
Conall swallowed. “Everything you ever told me was a lie. Maeve deserves to happy. We all do.” He bent down and helped Fenella to her feet.
Cian screamed in inarticulate burbling rage and a conflagration emerged from his hands, focused on his son. Maeve could not see whether her brother had shielded in time, but she had reached her limit. She leaped on her father, knocking him to the ground, and with a brief flicker of pity, she tore his throat out. She dropped his limp body like a piece of garbage and ran back to Idris, half-transforming as she went. To her relief, he had pulled the dagger out himself, and she could see the shimmer of healing magic working. She pulled him into her lap, and he smiled up at her. “You were amazing,” he said. “How did you do that?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I couldn’t let you die for me again.”
************************************
A few hours later, the entire court was in an uproar. The Lord and Lady of the Heavens had appeared, quite without notice, and rumors were flying that Lord Cian was dead. That everyone was. But the throne room did not open. In the Lord’s private apartments, Idris and Maeve sat together on a settee, hands clasped, waiting to hear whether Conall would recover from his injuries. He had covered Fenella’s body with his own to protect her from the fire, but his own magic had already been drained replacing the wards on the castle. Lord Aidan had promised to do all that he could.
In the interim, they had plenty to talk about. Fenella admitted that Conall had been her contact in the Court of Bones all along. She had seduced him to get information, but they had actually begun to be fond of each other. It remained to be seen what would happen now that everyone’s identities were out in the open. Conall was poised to be the new Lord of Bones. Fenella accepted that the courtiers would not look too fondly on their ruler taking a nature spirit as a lover, but Maeve thought she still looked a bit sad about it.
Rhosyn and Oisin were fine, having arrived back home without incident. The princess had been rather incensed about being left out of the battle, but she was now administering the court in her parent’s stead without complaint. Everything had turned out as well as could be expected, really.
Lord Aidan and Lady Rowan emerged from the bedroom looking exhausted but triumphant. “Conall is awake now. He’ll be fine in a couple of days, though scarred,” Rowan said. “He insisted we not fix too much of it. Apparently, he wants to keep a reminder of what his father had become.” She let out a sigh, perhaps remembering something unpleasant. “Anyway, he’s asking to see all of you together.”
When Idris and Maeve entered the room hand in hand, Fenella trailing behind them, Conall was sitting up in bed, looking almost… serene. He smiled when he saw them. It was the first time in years Maeve had seen her brother smile, and even with half of his face pink and red with scars, it was transformative. She couldn’t help but want to smile back.
“I wanted to thank all of you,” he said. “You all risked a lot to help this court, even when we did everything to oppose it, and Prince Idris especially gave so much to help my sister when I wasn’t brave enough to. I’ll never be able to repay you.”
Idris nodded. “I would’ve wanted to help even if I hadn’t been in love with Maeve. It was wrong to let anyone continue to suffer through the curse, especially when they weren’t guilty of the crime that caused it. I understand that you both had a difficult upbringing. I only hope you can avoid making the same mistakes as your father did.”
“That’s the other thing I want to talk about,” Conall said. “I don’t want to rule this court. More than that, I don’t think I’m worthy of it, or strong enough to do all of the difficult work it will take to make this place flourish again. I plan to abdicate in favor of my sister,” he said, giving them a somewhat abashed smile. “I know Maeve doesn’t have any experience, but I thought, with such a capable partner, she would do a much better job than I ever could.”
Maeve drew in a sharp breath. “You’re serious?” Her brother took both of her hands in his and looked down at them with a wistful expression.
“You’ve grown so much, Maeve, and I hardly noticed. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to live with, or a good brother to you, for many years. I suppose dumping my responsibilities in your lap isn’t a very good way to make amends, but I believe in you, and in the mate you chose for yourself. I hope someday you can forgive me.”
She leaned forward and embraced him, and after a moment of hesitation, he hugged her back. “I’ll do my best to make you proud as the Lady of this court. But in return, you’ll have to promise to make me proud in whatever you choose to do.”
“I will do my utmost, I swear,” he said, releasing her to stand next to Idris, who put his arm around her shoulder, his expression bewildered. Conall turned his attention to Fenella, reaching out his hand to her. She came closer, pressing his hand between both of her own, and something like relief flickered over his features. “I know that we have some things we need to talk about, but I was wondering if, when you leave here, you’d allow me to come with you. I’ve come to… care for you, in a way I’m not terribly familiar with, but if you’ll let me, I would like to… try.”
“Well, you’ll have to ask my Lord and Lady, but I think with a recommendation from me, they’d be inclined to accept you,” she replied with a smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek. They looked into each other’s eyes with an expression Maeve and Idris were familiar with, and so they took their leave.
Lord Aidan and Lady Rowan were waiting for them in the sitting room. “Did you accept your new positions?” Aidan asked with a small smile.
“Conall spoke to us about it first,” Rowan said by way of explanation. “He seemed to think we’d be upset about being deprived of our heir.”
Idris snorted. “I think the one who’s going to be most angry is Rhosyn. She was aiming for a lifetime of research and few responsibilities.”
“There’s always Oisin,” Aidan said, and they all laughed. Not because Oisin wasn’t capable but because they knew that Rhosyn, once she got used to being the Heir Apparent, wasn’t likely to want to relinquish her position. “So, you have accepted then?”
“I suppose we have,” Idris said, looking over at Maeve, who nodded emphatically, squeezing the hand she held in her own.
“I know I’m not at all prepared for this, but I hope you all will be here to help me,” she said, not able to quite keep her voice from trembling.
“Of course, dear,” Rowan said. “You are a member of our family after all.” It still filled Maeve with warmth, the idea that this was her family, full of people that loved her. And now it seemed she’d have her brother back as well. Even though they would be separated between the two courts, she had every confidence that she could count on their continuing love and support.
“There is one thing we need to do first.”