Chapter 4
I felt jittery. So full of nervous energy, I didn’t know what to do with myself. The news Caomhnóir gave me was more than I could process.
Pacing back and forth in the bedroom I had created for myself didn’t help. The fact it was a replica of Cernunnos's room––yeah, that might have made it worse.
A part of me wanted to confront Brónach and call her out on keeping this kind of secret from me. A larger part of me wanted to walk away from it all––for just a little while. To get away from everyone, and feel normal for once.
I was having one of those rare moments when I wished I had just listened to my dad and never left home. That way, I would have never moved to London, or gone out with Annie for my birthday.
I would still be a normal twenty something year old. Hell, I didn’t even know how old I was now. I gave up trying to keep track in The Wild Wood.
On the other hand, I would have never met the guys, or Cernunnos. My hand curled protectively over my belly. Nor would I have the bean percolating in my belly.
I wish I could go talk to my mum. At the thought of her, tears welled in my eyes. I miss my mum and dad. I miss my sister and her kids. I miss my brother, and I miss my life.
In the end, I slumped down in the huge armchair that replicated the one Cernunnos had sat in so many times at night, while he thought and cried.
I cried for all that I had lost and all that I had found. I let pity and sorrow drown me for a few moments, before letting the tears wash them away. And afterwards, I just cried.
It wasn’t until a small hand smoothed back a lock of hair from my snotty, tear-streaked face, that I realized I was no longer alone.
My Rioghan put his forehead to mine and shuddered against me.
"Don’t cry, Dia. It hurts me so much to feel your tears. I would do anything to make them go away––tell me what to do, and I will do it."
His beautiful eyes welled with his own tears and I knew then that I would have done it all over again, even knowing the outcome.
He was worth it. In some ways he was more my baby than the one growing inside of me. The bean was so new. It hadn’t even sank in yet that I was going to be someone's mother. Rioghan and I had a bond that went soul deep. He called me sister, but it was so much more than that. I would destroy anyone that tried to harm him.
"I love you so much, Rio," I told him.
He looked at me and smiled.
"Rio, hmmm I have never been called a diminutive of my name before. I believe that I like it––only from you, Dia. I won’t be pleased if others call me this."
A watery laugh slipped out.
"Are you sure you are only six years old? Are you really a ten-thousand-year-old Sluagh prince in a child's body?"
"You are silly, Dia. Of course, I am only six," he paused. "I will be six hundred and one on the next solstice.”
My jaw dropped, and he giggled.
"I’m only joking. I’m still very young. It is unheard of for someone my age to leave our home. You are very special to have me, Dia." He grinned.
"I know it, little man. If you even got a scratch, I would not want to have to tell Fiachra about it!"
He nodded wisely. "That is why we have the six most powerful Sluagh's with us, to guard us. You have Uncle's personal guard at your beck and call."
"You are kidding me, right?" There was no way that Fiachra would have sent his best with us. Who was guarding him?
"Why would I jest about something like that? Uncle is quite capable of taking care of himself. We, however, are the heirs to the throne, and in a much more vulnerable position. It is only logical that he would send the best to protect us."
Unfortunately, my mind had stuck on the we part of that explanation. I narrowed my eyes and did my best to glare at him. Yeah, I failed, but I still tried.
"What do you mean, we? Don’t you mean, you?"
I really hoped he meant you.
"No," he frowned. "You have been told this, Dia. You are now my sister, and heir to the Sluagh throne… unless Uncle takes a mate and procures a more direct Heir. In fact, as the eldest, you are now before me in line. That is why it is so important to take your studies seriously."
"No, no, no, no and NO."
"What do you mean no?" he asked.
"I freaking mean no. I am not in line for the Sluagh throne. No freaking way. I am not even really Sluagh. You are the Prince-in-waiting. I'm adopted. Hey, don’t get me wrong, I'm good with that––really good. You know, since I was adopted before you adopted me. So, you see… can't do it, not blood, etcetera, etcetera." I explained, waving my hand frantically.
"Dia," He looked almost disappointed. "The Sluagh throne is not passed down directly through bloodlines. While it does stay in our family, one made family is just as important as those born into it."
"No," I whined. "Can I abdicate? I didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t want any of this."
"No, sweet sister."
I easily picked up the pity in his voice, and it shamed me. Here I am, a grown woman, whining to a child. What is wrong with me?
"You cannot abdicate; it is your role in life. However, there is always hope that our Uncle marries and sires his own children." The little devil grinned at me. "Then that would put me further down the line of succession, and you one step less."
"I thought royals vied for the crown, and schemed for ways to get it. Not praying for ways to get out of it," I chuckled.
"That is only the ones who want power for themselves. The ones who understand that, with great power comes great responsibility, also understand that their own wants come last on a very long list."
"Man," I hugged him tight. “You are one smart kid, you know that?"
"Yes, I do," he snuggled into me. "And as a very wise kid, I now have a question for you. Right now, Dia, what do you want more than anything?"
"My mum," I said hugging him tighter. “I want my mum. She always knew how to make things seem better, even when they weren’t."
"Then maybe you should go and see her." Rioghan suggested.
I gave a watery laugh, "Yeah, I wish. I can’t tell her what is going on. She doesn’t know about any of this. She wouldn’t understand about the Fae, shifters, and most definitely not gods. She is a good, faithful Catholic woman at heart. In her mind, there is only one God."
"Dia," Rioghan took my face in his and squished my cheeks together. “You don’t have to tell her about any of that. Talk to her about the things that matter to you. She is your mother. I don’t talk to my mother about all the things Tamarus teaches me, or what I learn at my Uncles side. I do, however, tell her everything that happens in my heart. She loves me, not the Prince of the Sluagh. Your mother will be the same. Go see her and cry. She might be able to make you smile, where others could not."
Ever seen anyone hold a look of astonishment while a kid has your face all squashed up? No, well, here I am.
"Rio," I told him. "You are both scary and awesome. I am now officially convinced you are not a child at all. Maybe a goblin," I tickled him and he squealed. "Yeah, a hobgoblin that is ticklish."
He giggled and screamed like the little boy he was supposed to be, and like any big sister, I gave him no quarter.
It was finally my turn to be the big sister, instead of the youngest, and I liked it!
***
The sun was shining and the birds chirping. Summer was in full bloom. All around me my mother's efforts exploded in any gardener's idea of paradise.
I ran a finger down the petals of one of her hydrangeas. I used to call the path to the house the rainbow bridge. She had pink, purple, blue and white hydrangeas lining the drive with foxglove filling any gaps.
Irises of all description popped up in seemingly random clumps of glorious color.
She would always laugh and say, ‘Who needed a Monet when we had this.’
Daddy would laugh and tell her, ‘Me, darling. While your flowers are an art form unto themselves, I wouldn’t be saying no to the value of a Monet."
It was in those unguarded times that my dad's Irish roots would pop up. Then you would see the young, carefree man he once was before the world grabbed hold of him, and he lost the innocence we are all born with.
I could sense the moment my mother began to walk in my direction. Whatever new part of me that was all about the power could feel her drawing near. If I truly wanted to, I would have been able to see her slapping the soil from her hands because she had taken her gloves off, while muttering about not being able to feel what she was doing with them on.
I could sense the moment she stopped in her ramblings. Noticing when she saw me standing there, she took in the sight of her youngest, wearing a slim-fitting summer dress that did nothing to hide my bump.
"Dia?" she called questioningly. “OH, Dia,” mum exclaimed before she dropped the gloves and ran to me, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me tight. "Oh, my beautiful girl, I have missed you so much. I am so sorry that you have felt you couldn’t come home. Believe you me, I have had words with your father and sister, and so has Sean. Both of them are ashamed of themselves, let me tell you!"
She pulled back enough to see my face and take in every inch of me. I took the time to do the same. She had not seen me in months. Not since I told them about the guys. It had been twice as long, at least, for me.
I drank in every inch of her. This was the woman who had given me my life. Perhaps not physically, but in every other way.
"Let me have a look at you, my bonnie girl. You are almost glowing. Those boys must be treating you well."
Her eyes dropped from my face, ran down the rest of me, and stopped at my belly. It had always been flat and well-toned, now––not so much.
"Dia?"
"Yeah mum, umm––surprise?" I tried to joke.
"Oh, my girl, I am so happy for you! We are going to have another grandbaby!" She paused. "As long as you are happy?"
I nodded, trying not to cry.
"I need to call your father!" she had begun to bounce on her heels, making plans. Over the past few months, my mother had become a much stronger woman.
Sean had told me that when word had gotten out about my relationships––well, let's just say, the people of the parish were not kind.
My mother, who had been on every charity board and church board for the last thirty years, drew a line in the sand.
I wish I could have been there. Annie told me the next part. With great relish, I might add.
Rumors had been running rampant for weeks, and people had begun to openly talk about me. Not even pretending to hide their gossip from my family. It didn’t help with Dad and Mara turning their backs on me.
Well, according to Annie, mum stood up in church one Sunday, walked straight up to the altar, and in her sweetest voice said, "Excuse me, Father, I am so very sorry to interrupt Mass, but there is something I need to say to our congregation."
Father Brian just stepped to the side and gave mum the microphone. That was when she told the whole church to go to hell, and purgatory, and not to bother coming back.
Annie, God bless her, recorded the whole thing on her phone. As soon as mum had marched up the aisle she had pulled that sucker out.
I can still see my mother standing serenely at the front of the church as she began to tell a parable of Christ.
"The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and placing her in the midst they said to him," she began.
“’Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So, what do you say?’ This they said to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, ‘Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.’”
Mary Langburn stood up and puffed out her chest, "He also told her to go and commit no more sin. That girl of yours is committing adultery every day with those men of hers. It’s shameful is what it is."
My mother glared at her.
"First off, Mary, it is not adultery, it is fornication. However, if you want to talk about sin, I am more than happy to talk all about it, and the sins of this congregation. I'm more surprised that poor Father Brian hasn’t died of horror after confession, the way some of you lot carry on."
"Why I never," Mary began.
My mother rolled her eyes and looked at her drolly.
"Really, Mary? Two words for you, love… Thomas Miller."
You could hear Annie cackling when Mary Langburn set her butt down faster than you could blink.
That was when my mother made her ultimatum.
"I am not our Savior, and would never dare to judge as it is not my place." She gave every member in the church above the age of twelve a death glare. However, my family and I have served this community faithfully and humbly for years. Including my daughter, who many of you take great delight in maligning. Well, I am done with it, and the lot of you. If you can't pull your bloody fingers out and forgive, then I am sorry to say that neither can I."
She turned to Father Brian and told him in a very regretful tone.
"Father, since our religious community has seen fit to turn away from one of their own in their time of need," she paused. "I feel I have no choice but to withdraw my support from the church and go elsewhere to worship our Lord. Where such deplorable examples of Christian values are less repugnant."
"Mrs. McLearey," he stuttered.
She just held up her hand, turned her back, and walked out of the church. My father sat there, stunned for a moment, as she passed. The look she gave him clearly told him, if he wanted a bed to sleep in that night he had better move his arse.
I always knew he was a wise man.