Chapter Twenty-Seven
“A fork in the road can alter or hinder your journey.”
~Chronicles of the Fae
Lunging forward, Conn’s muscles screamed as he blocked another blow from Taran’s blade. Sweat dripped down into his eyes, but he refused to wipe it away. His body had grown weak with no one to train with and his brothers knew this well. Finbar had joined them after an hour and Conn fought them both. Yet, soon, Darroch and Faelan—two others of the Brotherhood, had joined him in the training lists.
It was now time to end this exercise.
“You fight like a lass,” taunted Faelan, deflecting a blow by Conn.
“Did you hear him grunt? By the hounds, never thought to hear those words from the prince,” mocked Taran.
Darroch held his sword up to the light. “I don’t know if I want the blood of my prince on my blade.”
Finbar laughed. “Take pity on him, my brothers. I deem it’s the extra weight he has put on. Must have gone weak in the human realm.”
“Arrogant asses,” growled Conn, swinging his blade outward and surprising Finbar. The Fae stumbled backward and crashed against the stone wall. “One down, three more to go.”
“Bastard,” remarked Finbar, wiping the dust from his face.
Giving the man a mock salute with his sword, Conn leveled it against Darroch. “Is my blood not good enough for your sword?”
Darroch swung heavily, but Conn rebounded quickly and slammed a fist into the man’s face, knocking the Fae out cold.
With a great war cry, Faelan charged forward. However, Conn ducked and tripped the man. Faelan landed against the well. Dazed, he shook his head, but remained seated.
Conn glanced over his shoulder. His smile became predatory. “So we’re back to the beginning, Taran. Ready to concede defeat?”
His friend made a slight bow, his eyes never leaving Conn’s. “Never, my prince.”
Arching a brow, he turned and waited for the attack. In a blink of an eye, Taran vanished and reappeared behind him. Nevertheless, Conn was prepared for this tactic and effectively blocked the attack with a backhanded blow. Swiftly turning, Conn delivered a blow to the man’s chest, tossing him across the lists.
Finally wiping his brow, Conn glanced around the training yard. “Next time, call more of the Brotherhood to assist you weaklings.”
Darroch was the first to start laughing, followed by the rest of the brothers.
As they all stood slowly, Conn went and embraced each one. “I have missed you all. Thank the Gods and Goddesses you didn’t bring Ronan.” Reaching for a ladle from the well, he dipped it into the water. After drinking the cool, sweet liquid, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Handing the ladle to Taran, he noticed the somber expressions on all their faces.
“Has something happened to Ronan?”
Taran leaned against the well. “No.” He looked at the others and then added, “He’s been given an important assignment.”
Frowning, Conn crossed his arms over his chest. “Do tell.”
Taran let out a sigh and dipped the ladle into the well. “He’s been chosen to be Ivy O’Callaghan’s guardian—in this realm and her world.”
“Chosen by whom?” Conn clipped out.
“The queen.”
“Many have seen him escorting her about the land, including myself,” added Faelan.
Conn’s body stiffened in shock. His own mother had betrayed him. But why? And why Ronan? The Fae was one of his dearest friends. Did he not mention to her that Ivy was to remain within his chambers until she was healed and well enough to enter her own world?
“Where did you see them last?” demanded Conn.
“They were walking toward the library.”
Conn rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. “There is one more mission that must be completed before the coronation. The king has granted this, along with the Fae council. Furthermore, I shall require one warrior to make this journey with me.”
“I will go with you,” declared Taran.
“I have no wish to speak for the others, but I would be honored to accompany you,” stated Faelan.
“Agreed,” announced Finbar and Darroch.
Conn nodded. “Taran shall accompany me on my last quest as a Fenian Warrior. But I thank you all. Now, I must attend to a matter with Ronan.”
“Do you deem it wise?” asked Taran.
Glancing upward, Conn stared into the crystal blue sky. “When it comes to Ivy, wise is not the word I would choose.”
“Then what word would you use?”
There was only one, and Conn was unable to utter the word out loud. Love. Swiftly vanishing, he reappeared near the wooden doors of the library.
Banishing his sword, he changed magically into his royal cream-colored tunic and golden leather pants. Running a hand through his hair, he didn’t know what he would say if Ivy was still inside the place. He paced in front of the massive doors, contemplating his words. He had spoken them often. In fact, daily.
Each day, Conn visited Ivy in his chambers—watching over her sleeping form. He filled his empty nights by her side, telling her tales of his homeland and his love for her. Conn knew the time was fleeting. She had to return to her own world, and soon. He had tarried too long—fear keeping him away from her in her waking moments.
He’d whispered his apologies a hundred times while she slept, but now he needed to utter the words for her to hear. The greatest challenge of his life stood behind those doors.
Placing his hands upon the wood, he pushed them open.
Sunlight streamed in from the adjacent windows. He nodded in passing to another Fae, keeping his senses open to her. Walking along the sections of the library, Conn headed in the direction he knew Ivy would appreciate. The history of the Fae.
Laughter pealed out, the sound filling him. Yet, Conn was unprepared for the sight that greeted him. She sat regally in a large chair with her feet tucked under her, and her face held a rosy glow. Fae children sat around her in rapt attention as she told a story from her own childhood. One of the girls cupped a hand over her mouth and giggled. Another child held up his hand to ask a question.
He leaned against a bookcase, his heart breaking once again. As long as he lived, he would treasure this one last moment of Ivy. Beauty, grace, strength, courage, and love.
“I would have shown you the stars, mo ghrá,” he uttered softly.
Ivy glanced up and their gazes locked.
Conn straightened and moved slowly across the room. He smiled at the children as he spoke. “I wish to speak to Ivy.”
The children all nodded and as they took their leave, they made slight bows to him in passing.
Keeping his hands clasped behind his back, he noticed wariness in Ivy’s eyes. “You are well?”
Smoothing out her dress, she stood. “Yes. Thank you for saving my life. But why didn’t you take me to the nearest hospital?”
“There was a crash involving the vehicle you were in and my motorcycle. Unfortunately, time was critical, and you required immediate medical attention.”
Frowning, Ivy moved forward. “How did you manage to get me here? Magic?”
He arched a brow. “I have friends in the animal kingdom. I called forth a horse, and we were able to travel the landscape quickly.”
“Wow…remarkable.” She twisted her hands together. “What happened to Mike Banister?”
“You no longer have to worry about him.”
“He died in the accident?”
“Yes,” Conn lied.
Ivy nodded. “Good. Less work for the police.”
He shifted slightly. Did she know how much he ached? “Do you find my chambers comfortable?”
A flash of humor crossed her face. “They’re more than comfortable. You have an entire forest and waterfall contained all for your pleasure. Don’t get me started on your book collection, though I couldn’t read most of them.”
“They provide the necessary solitude. The books are a collection of the many languages over the centuries. I am sorry I did not pull out those in English for you to read.”
She started to reach out to him, but hesitated. “You never shared everything about yourself. Why?”
“At the time when we were together, I was a Fenian warrior, not the Fae prince.”
Ivy took another step closer, her scent surrounding him. “What changed?”
By the Gods, he wanted to touch her skin. He ached to devour her sweet lips, smother her face with kisses, and whisk her away. “In order to save your life, I made a bargain with the king. I have left the Brotherhood and will take my place as heir to the throne.”
Her eyes misted with unshed tears. “Yes, the healer Kaelan told me this, but he didn’t tell me there were strings attached to this deal. So, you can never return to…above? With me?”
“No,” he replied in a hoarse voice.
“Too much for a prince to love a human?”
Her words were like a dagger to his heart. “It is not my decision.”
A single tear slipped down her cheek. “No, I suppose you could not go against your family, laws, or whatever. But thank you. I owe you so much for giving me courage to step out of my shell.”
He clenched his hands tighter behind him. “It was there within you all the time. It only required coaxing.”
She swallowed and standing on her tiptoes, Ivy kissed his cheek. “I will love you forever, my Celt. Be happy.”
Conn was unable to move, words of love frozen inside his heart. His mind screamed at him, but he locked them far away. “I shall remember you always,” he whispered.
Raw hurt glittered in those aqua eyes he adored as he watched her turn and walk quietly out of the library.
And Conn let out an anguished moan.
****
“Are you ready?” asked Taran, coming alongside him at the forest’s entrance to the human world.
Conn glanced sideways at his friend. “Do you have the required information?”
The warrior snarled and pulled out his dirk. “The bastard is currently residing in the northern part of Ireland. A town called Cragan.”
Removing his sword from its sheath, Conn held it up to the light. “Remember, Mike Banister is mine.”
Taran’s voice hardened ruthlessly. “A shame I cannot take a slice at the man.”
“Regrettably, his death will not come by my hand.”
His friend snarled. “Where?”
“Undecided.” Conn gestured the Fae forward. “Lead onward.”
In a flash, both warriors passed into the human realm. Light rain greeted the two men as they emerged and steadily made their way to the small town. The gray light only added to the dismal atmosphere of the place. A dog darted out from behind a garbage can, giving them only a passing glance as he ran across the street. If Mike Banister wished to disappear from the Garda, he chose a perfect place to withdraw.
“He keeps a small place around the next bend,” uttered Taran, keeping his focus steady.
“Weapons?”
“An arsenal.”
“Back entrance?”
“Door and large kitchen window.”
“Any visitors?”
“None since he’s arrived.”
Conn’s smile became sinister. “Good. All the more easier to displace him permanently.” He wanted no trace to lead back to Ivy once she returned to the village.
As they approached the road leading to Banister’s house, Conn motioned for Taran to go around the back. With stealth-like moves, Conn made his way to a cluster of trees and crouched behind them. Keeping his gaze and concentration on the front, he waited for Taran to magically seal off the back exit.
When he heard the falcon’s cry, Conn vanished and reappeared inside the house. Instantly, an alarm sounded.
“Shit,” he hissed out, drawing forth his blade. Mike Banister appeared with a loaded rifle aimed right at his head. A wicked scar across his brow was evident in the fading light.
“Wrong choice of weapon to bring to a fight,” stated Mike.
The man’s words seemed worn, thin, and hollow, used so often by shallow men.
“Ahh…but I disagree. Perfect to where I’ll be sending you.” Conn moved toward the bastard.
“Stop!” he ordered. “Take another step, and I’ll splatter your brains against the walls.”
How easy it would be to snap the neck of the bastard. Conn would never forget the damage to Ivy’s body. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and he fought the urge to end this standoff.
“Now this is what you’re going to do—”
“I’m listening,” interrupted Conn.
“Shut-up!” he shrieked, spittle flying outward. “You and that dead bitch have ruined all my plans.”
“She’s not dead.”
The man’s face contorted. “Good. Then I can find her after I’ve disposed of you. You are forthcoming with all this information. I will remember to tell her right before I carve her heart out of her chest.”
Conn’s blood boiled, and his hand gripped the blade tighter. “Wrong. Where you are going, you’ll never set eyes on Ivy O’Callaghan again.”
“You’re an arrogant bastard.”
Conn’s expression stilled and grew serious. “I am my own arrogance, and I grow weary of this sparring of words.”
Taran had quietly moved in behind Banister, allowing Conn the advantage he needed. “Do you think you can fight both of us?”
Surprised by Taran’s outburst, Mike reacted and half-turned.
Bringing his sword in an arc, Conn used magic to freeze the man where he stood. Stepping forward, he removed the rifle from his hands and flung it into the corner.
The man’s eyes grew wide, and he struggled to break free.
Conn waved a hand in the air, releasing him. Mike stumbled, fear registering on his face. “What…who are you…monsters?”
Taran rubbed a hand across his chin. “Did you hear what he called us?”
Conn leveled an icy stare at the man. “There is only one monster in this room. You.” Shoving him hard against the wall, he leveled the cold steel against the man’s throat.
“Devil’s spawn,” gasped Mike. “Kill me now.”
“No, Banister. You shall not die by my hand. Your destiny awaits…in another time, another place.” He leaned close. “What you did to Ivy will be repaid to you a thousand fold. She will never have to endure seeing you again.”
Fear shown in his eyes. “What are you saying?”
“Atrocities, slavery, war—the Crusades were horrific in many ways. That is where I’m sending you, Mike Banister.”
Before the man had a chance to utter a protest, Conn whispered the ancient words and created an opening within the veil. The clang of steel, shouting, and dust filled the room as the vortex opened. Taking a step back, he knelt and held up his fist. “So let it be done.”
Snakelike tendrils gripped a hold of the man, and Mike’s screams lingered long after Conn sealed the veil. Breathing heavily, he waited until the last fiber of energy left the room.
Taran approached by his side. “Impressive. Never thought to send the bastard there, and so swiftly. You’ve mastered parting the veil extremely well. A shame you’re abandoning us.”
Conn stood. He looked at his friend and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “The Brotherhood will always be a part of me. Trust me, I have no desire to rule a kingdom or take a wife whom I will never love.”
The man shook his head. “Then you’re doomed to a life of misery.”
Conn’s voice was resigned. “Then I will learn to seal off the pain.”