Page 20 of Wind and Water
It takes me a long pause to gather my wits. I’m glad for my military training as it gives me the ability to show little to no emotions in times of great stress. This is one of those times. “Birdie, as much as I like and respect you, my feelings for Wren will be discussed with her long before they’re chatted about with you.”
“Fair enough, but I don’t want her crying ’til the cows come home.” She waggles a finger at me.
“Cows? You’re going to have to explain that one to me.” I thought I was getting the hang of the way they use language, but this one has me stumped.
“It means waiting for something, but it’s futile.” She dabs her eye and puts the fruit away, having only taken a few berries to eat.
“Did you wait a long time for Wren’s father to return?” I can’t fathom anyone leaving their family as he did.
All the joy is washed from her laughter, now laced with a touch of bitterness. “I was very young. It took five years for me to wrap my brain around the notion that he’d never come back,and even then, it was the divorce papers that made the point. I’d like to say it was my own good sense, but it took a legal decree to convince me that he didn’t want me anymore.”
“I promise that whatever happens with Wren and me, she will always know where she stands and where I stand. Any choices that are to be made will be hers, not mine.” I place my hand over my heart, making my pledge hold the weight of my conviction.
“That is fair,” she concedes.
Wren returns, waving the device I have learned is called a phone and is used to speak or write to people over long distances. It’s very handy. “I have freed up my schedule for the foreseeable future and booked us on the train to Kyle of Lochalsh, which is the last stop before the Skye Bridge. We’ll need to take the bus from there to the Isle.”
“When do we leave?” Birdie asks.
“Tomorrow morning. They were totally booked for today, but we have to be at the station very early, and it’s a seven-hour ride. It should be very pretty, though.” She grins and sits on the stool next to me.
“We’ll have today to get another look at the castle, buy some appropriate clothes and bags, and repack. I suppose we can donate what we don’t need to take. I’m sure there are some shelters in the city.” Birdie chatters on and on about what must be done before we head north.
I watch the two of them, wondering if the war I’m taking them to will change them and wishing I had another choice.
Chapter Five
Wren
On the train, I read the book about the old gods. “Could it be Dagda’s harp behind the Watcher’s Gate?”
Momma shrugs. “How does a harp help if we have no one to play the right strains?”
“Good point.” I study the text where it says that he played the strain of sleep and never raised a hand in battle against his enemy. It sounds like a bunch of hooey, but I didn’t believe in elves or magic until I met Liam. I need to keep an open mind.
“I’d rather have the spear or the sword if some treasure is behind the gate.” Liam’s gaze is forward, but it’s obvious he’s watching out for someone to attack us.
“You know about the four treasures of the Tuatha De Dannan?”
He nods. “It’s taught in school. The old gods with sword, spear, stone, and cauldron. The tales of Dagda and his harp. We’re all taught these stories from a young age. I don’t see how any of it helps. Venora is flesh and mortal. How will any weapon get us past her magic? If it were simple, the oracle would have found a way. They’ve had thirty years to look for a defenseagainst the dark. Yet, year by year, the witch queen gets stronger and kills more of us. She turns good people into shadow demons and turns others into slaves. She bespells warriors to her army. We’ve slowed her, but most of the time, I think the oracle is at a loss for how to save the light.”
I close the book. “You don’t think you can win.” A knot forms in the center of my chest and expands. “Why bring me to your world if you don’t think Venora can be beaten?”
The deepest sorrow darkens his gaze. “I have seen the blackest magic come from the witch queen. She is more powerful than anyone would have expected. She uses terrible means to grow stronger. Every soul she turns into a shadow demon leaves the magic of its former elf attached to her. She’ll continue to become more while we are dwindling. No female elves means that in perhaps fifty more years, there will be none to bear children. Time is running out for my kind, and I’m helpless to stop time.
“I bring you because you represent hope, and I’ve lost mine.” He returns to watching the people on the train and the terrain outside the window as it speeds by.
If I could reassure him that everything is going to be okay, I would. The problem is that I don’t think bringing an artist and her mother to another world will make much of a difference.
Momma says, “Maybe one of the other human women is a musician. Maybe the weapon behind the gate is something else altogether. Don’t lose faith, Liam. Your people found the prophecy; that should mean something.”
He offers a half smile. “It should, Birdie. The fact that we’ve already seen some of Wren’s human magic is a good sign, too. Forgive me for sounding bleak.”
“How do my dreams help?” I push aside thoughts of Morrigan and Nuada. My mind is swimming with Irishmythology. None of it is very helpful for stopping an evil elf or her armies.
“You have other magic.”
“How can you know that? I had a dream. It might mean nothing.” The notion that I can conjure wind that could lift a person is ridiculous.
