Siofra picked up the first book from the nearest stack. She read until her eyes burned, but learned nothing. How would she know which record would help? She didn’t have time to read them all.
Father, my thoughts have been far from you in this land. Forgive me, please, and help me honor you as I help a people who are more accustomed to using magic than trusting you. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I ask that you lead me to information that will give me the wisdom I need. Please protect Lysander’s father and my mother and help us all keep peace in this land.
Now that Siofra had reestablished her usual manner of addressing life, she walked around the stacks of records, trying to ignore the pull of investigating all the bins of unusual merchandise. Dragon teeth. Fairy cakes. Fool’s gold.
She found herself staring at a particular book and picked it out of the stack. Book of Origins. This might be exactly what she needed.
Perhaps an hour later, Lysander strode into the shop and handed her a cup of tea. “I thought you might need a break.”
He leaned close, and she could swear he sniffed her hair. “Lysander, did you just smell me?”
His cheeks flushed a decided pink. “Maybe.”
“And why would you do that? Do I need another bath?”
He leaned his forehead against hers and inhaled deeply. “Your scent pleases me. Have you learned anything?”
“Not only have I learned a number of useful things, but I believe I’ve got a plan.”
He kissed her head. “My clever girl.”
A warm rush of feeling started in her cheeks, flooded past her heart, and made her stomach do odd flips. Siofra raised the cup to take a sip while Lysander smiled at her. Did he know how he made her feel?
She set the cup down. “First, I think that troll was part of the entire incident. Trolls are part Fomorian. I believe Wievel helped the bard make a mess, stumbled about and acted the unwitting fool, when actually, they did it together to keep everyone’s focus on the troll instead of the murder.”
“Excellent thinking. I’ll question him further. Anything else?”
“Did you know that Fomorians could hear anyone talking because the wind brought them all the words even said in a whisper? Think about what Greum told us. Lìos turned his head toward our room then jumped up. We’d just talked about restraining him. Lysander, he heard us.”
“I should have placed a barrier on the room.”
“That might not help. Fomorians could cancel Danann magic.”
“How?”
“They could clear away a fog, withdraw waters, stop a storm—things sent by Danann magicians.”
Lysander took a deep breath, staring into the distance. “It may not be as disastrous as it sounds. Everything you mentioned has to do with water. They came from the water.”
“Are you forgetting he broke the barrier on the shop? And opened all the doors? A fight of magic is a very bad idea. We can never assume the Sidhe are the more powerful.”
“My father would explode if he heard you say that.”
“That would be illogical. He needs to face the truth.”
“Granted. Did you find anything useful?”
“We have a leprechaun that owes me a wish, and leprechauns are also part Fomorian.”
“Siofra,” he said, shaking his head, “you can never trust a leprechaun.”
“I’m counting on it. I’ll call the leprechaun and tell him to deliver a message to the Fomorians. We wish to meet on neutral ground, but he has to convince them not to bring iron.”
“He will betray you, and they’ll all bring iron.”
“I’m counting on it.” She reached for his hand. “I know the fey think iron will kill them, but I’ve never had the least problem with it until Mrs. Sgot told me to fear it. You can’t tell me I never once touched iron at my home before that cake episode.”
“Did you touch it after you lost your glamour?”
“No, but it won’t make a difference. You gave me the answer when you said fear was a curse. I believe that wholeheartedly, Lysander. Have you read the Good Book? We’re no longer under a curse. If we break free of fear, we won’t be harmed by iron.”
Lysander stared at her, his finger absentmindedly drawing circles on her palm. When he sighed, Siofra thought she’d lost his support.
“It won’t be easy to change the mindset of thousands of years. If I understand your intentions, you mean to be the one to fight the iron? As a champion of the Sidhe?”
“I do, but we have to make an offer to entice the Fomorians to appear. We offer them the dragon’s gold in exchange for the half-crown.”
“The value of the crown is priceless.”
“Exactly, so they’re going to want both. The leprechaun will betray us for the gold, the Fomorians for the other half of the crown.”
“The plan is sound, but you are not a warrior. I will have to fight, both my fear of iron and the Fomorians.”
Siofra shook her head. She had never meant to put Lysander at risk. “I don’t want a fight at all, Lysander, and I certainly don’t want you risking your life to protect me. This is going to culminate in who has the right to rule. No one does. Not anymore. There’s no longer one people at stake. There are many people groups with different values. They should all have the right to maintain their existence as they are, in a fey sort of lawful manner.”
“You speak well, but the Fomorians have no place in this world. They’ve always shown themselves as a group that dominates others. They won’t be content to leave things as they are, else Lìos would not have plotted this course and committed murder. He must be brought to justice, and if he is their champion, I must face him.”
Siofra tried to imagine the two men in a hand-to-hand combat. In reality, they had no idea what Lìos looked like. He could be ten or twenty feet tall.
“Lysander, why did you melt the sword and make it a knife? It’s so much shorter.”
“To decrease my reach. To kill a man is a terrible thing. I would not do it easily.”
“In this case, you might be too noble.” But she loved him even more for it. “I learned something that might have provoked this confrontation. The Fomorians may think they have a legitimate claim to the throne. This Balor that killed Nuada had a daughter, Ethne. She had previously married Cian who was Dian Cecht’s son, and they had a son, Lugh. So, Balor’s own grandson Lugh is the one who killed him and became the leader of the Tuatha Dé Danann. The two races were linked all the way across the lines of the origin Sidhe.”
“I see all the connections, but there is one irrefutable fact. After the battle where Nuada died at Balor’s hand and Lugh killed Balor in return, the Morrigu, daughter of Ermnas, declared the victory of Tuatha Dé Danann before all the Fomorians, ending the feud and the right of Fomorians to make formal challenge for our lands.”
Siofra’s head was whirling from all the associations. “So, you have a legitimate defense if he makes a claim.”
“We do.”
Siofra leaned back against the table. All those books and all that history for a world she hadn’t known existed. And now there were fey willing to fight an unknown assailant for the right to keep the land of Faerie. She looked through the window of the shop to the bridge that had changed everything. Days ago, her life had been very different. She could cross that bridge and return to a simpler way. She would lose Lysander and her mother. But she would never again have to deal with magic.
Lysander reached out and brushed the hair from her forehead. “You seem far away, Siofra. I don’t like it at all.”
“I was thinking of home.” She tried to smile at him, but failed. “Should you discuss the details we’ve discovered with your father? I wouldn’t dare call the leprechaun without your father’s agreement.”
Lysander choked on his laughter. “You expect my father to agree with you? That may not go well. He always thinks his own plans superior.”
“A superior plan would be…superior. I’ve no wish for either of us to confront a marauding horde. Have you seen the drawings of past Fomorians? Significantly monster-like. Never two the same.”
“One leg, one arm, one eye, dark skin, dark hair, no hair, but perhaps the worst is the body of a human with the head of a goat. You aren’t accustomed to such aberrations.”
“The only aberration I’m accustomed to is a dandy with a flat cravat.” When he stared vacantly, she explained. “A sort of neckcloth.” They were wasting time, avoiding discussion of their relationship. Avoiding a confrontation with the king. “What have you decided?”
“I should speak to my father alone. He won’t feel as great a need to preen or rail at you.” He touched her lightly on the arm. “But you should be aware, were my father truly disgusted by you, he would make your life a misery, not send you golden ballgowns and waterfalls for baths. He really does like you.”
“It’s alright, Lysander. For you, I can ignore his lack of approval. My own mother doesn’t seem much better. She hasn’t even told me whether or not I have a father. The fey do not excel at communicating.”
“I strive to do better.” He leaned forward to kiss her head again. “I’ll return soon.”
He walked out of the shop without looking back. She didn’t envy his task of consulting the king. Would he refuse to consider their ruse? Lysander seemed well-versed in managing his father. He even managed Siofra on occasion.
Was that all she was to him? A task to be completed? If only he did more than kiss the top of her head as if she were a small child. She did not understand fey courting rituals. Perhaps they had none. Theirs was an arranged engagement, after all.
She pulled another book from the stack. Knowledge was power.
There was no writing on the spine of this book, and when Siofra flipped open to the first page, it was blank as well. She kept turning, but never found a single word.
She sat back. What was so unique about this book that even the words were hidden?
Her gaze traveled the room. A magical shop should hold something that would help…if she knew how to use it.
Aha! Her eyes alighted on her satchel, where she saw a peek of red. What about the red cape?
She retrieved the cape and wrapped it around the book. When she took it off, there was no change.
Would the king aid her?
“It would help ever so much if I could see what’s in this book. I wonder why there are no words. Does it have a barrier spell on it?”
Siofra sat back and waited. First, wisps of smoke floated over the book then they formed golden runes that settled on the cover. Suddenly, the book had a title! Even if it looked as if the king’s smoke had imprinted on the golden cover as well.
Fighting the Scourge~ The Rise and Downfall of Fomorians
This could be exactly what they needed. She opened the cover and looked inside. Every page had words!
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean to intrude on your time with Lysander.”
Nothing happened, but she was certain he’d heard, which was more than a little disturbing.
With the inkwell, pen, and her journal at her side. Siofra began to read. She hadn’t passed the second page before she started a list.
Fomorians
- Fomorian bards travel and map out lands, bringing news or gossip, entertaining with stories, poetry, magic, and music while they spy out other lands. Few Fomorians have such skills. Those who do are highly placed in their society, serving as wise men or as leaders over the other lords.
That explained the travels of Lìos. This invasion had been planned for a while.
- When a society has been marked for takeover, the Fomorian warriors sneak into enemy villages and towns under the cover of dark storms, using magic if needed. Powerful storms hide the screams of their victims. All they leave behind is smoking devastation and blood-soaked ruins.
- Raiders are wily and see twice as far or even further than most other races in darkness, moon- or star-lit nights, storms, and other low-light atmospheres, giving them the advantage during storms because they breathe water as easily as air.
- Fomorians love fighting with claws, teeth, or with any and all weapons in hand-to-hand combat, particularly if one champion defeats a single warrior of great skill and cunning.
Siofra slammed the book shut. There was something terrifying about the Fomorians. Lysander was in great danger. Every perceived wrong brought lethal vengeance from Fomorians, and hadn’t Lysander repeatedly gotten the upper hand over Lìos? Even the suspicion of ill-will brought out a Fomorian’s baser side, as if they expected betrayal.
In that, they weren’t far off the king. He was just waiting for Siofra to betray Lysander. Had he not told her repeatedly she’d fail because she was more concerned with her own interests?
And though he didn’t suffer fools lightly, he didn’t eat them, like the Fomorians did to their own people. Ugh!
That’s how she would defeat them all. The thing most prized in Faerie was the advancement of true love. Love must be given, not taken. Anyone who interfered with the course of true love would be cursed. Wasn’t there some phrase from Mrs. Sgot about free gifts? Her love was a freely given gift.
No, she had it wrong. Lysander said there was no such thing as a free gift. Mrs. Sgot said saying thank-you for no reason at all would give her power. So much to consider!
All these concepts were the arbitrary rules of the fey, but the Fomorians were magic as well. There had to be something that kept them in line.
Right, Lord? Love is your greatest commandment, after all.
An unexpected tension filled the air, and Siofra shifted in her seat to study the shop. Through the front windows, she noted fey wandering past, but no one even glanced at the shop. The shelves and bins looked as they had when she first entered. But she felt something strong behind her. She almost didn’t want to face the doors.
When she turned, she saw bright white light coming from around one of the doors. Which domain did this door open?
If someone was coming through a door, she had no desire for them to find her reading that book.
She tucked her notes in the book and shoved it underneath her chair.
Could she warn Lysander and the king?
“I think someone is coming into the shop through the middle door. There’s light around the edges.” The door began to open. Was there anything else she needed to say? She held the red cape up to her mouth and whispered, “I hid the book underneath the chair. Tell Lysander I…”
The depth of her emotion for him was not something she could share with a magical cape.
Siofra slipped her satchel over her shoulder and wrapped the cape around her. If something was about to happen, she’d much rather Lysander and the king heard it all. And that she was armed with Mrs. Sgot’s remedies.
Lord, you know what’s coming. Arm me with what is needed. I trust in You.
The door flew back, and a grotesque one-armed giant, well over ten feet, strode into the shop. He waved at someone behind him, and two more hulking giants, with equally disturbing deformities and countenances, paraded through the opening.
Siofra backed into the counter. “Hello.”
“They left you here alone?” the first giant asked. “Even better.” He turned back to the door. “Take her, but rip off that cloak. It pongs of magic.”
Rather than have them manhandle her, Siofra divested herself of the cloak on her own. “I recognize your voice, Lìos, even if you look like a Fomorian now, not a human. Where are you taking me?”
He cackled. “Somewhere they’ll never find you, princess.”
Siofra ducked the two giants and ran around the counter toward the shop door. “Help! He—”
The rest of her voice was cut off as a mighty hand clamped over her face. She struggled to breathe, then she knew nothing.