Siofra woke to a loud ringing in her ears. What was that horrid noise? She tried to sit up, but her hands were bound to her sides. Immediate terror gripped her stomach. Don’t cast…Don’t cast up your accounts. She inhaled deeply, staring at the stone wall before her and attempting to understand the continued sound. Singing? Or screeching musically.
Where had Lìos brought her? How was he able to take her when she was still wearing her pendant?
She could try turning over, but after seeing the bard’s true form and that of his fellow kidnappers, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see more. What had the book said? Fomorians exult in their eerie and bizarre mutations, the more deformed, the better.
Siofra felt extremely uncomfortable, though the cause brought her great comfort. Her satchel had been left against her side when she was strapped down, and it pressed into her. There may be nothing helpful inside, but there were still safe snacks and a water container that never ran dry.
“I see you’re awake.” The sound of Lìos’ hate-filled voice brought another surge of nausea. “Lean her against the wall.”
Rough hands slid Siofra upright and pawed at her body. Were they tenderizing her for a meal?
She wouldn’t take this lying down, sitting up, or any other way. “What do you want, Lìos? And why kidnap me? I have no skills or magic whatsoever.”
“You’re wearing a glamour, aren’t you?”
“One, I didn’t make.” Siofra darted quick glances around her. She was in a courtyard, stone walls like a castle, cobblestone floor, one gateway closed with a portcullis that looked reinforced with iron.
“Don’t bother trying to escape through the gate. You could never lift that portcullis, even if you could touch iron.” He smiled, showing two rows of pointed teeth, top and bottom. One large forelock of black hair hung over his misshapen brown eyes. The rest of his head was bald. He reached up to brush back the hair with a six-fingered hand. “Do you know where you are?”
“I don’t know where anything in Faerie is located, so it wouldn’t help even if you told me.”
His eyes narrowed to a slit. It seemed to irritate him that she wasn’t curious. “We’re in an abandoned castle of the Unseelie king. He does like to move about, and he leaves such useful things behind. Old spells. Old maps. Shadow fey. Very tasty.”
Siofra swallowed hard but kept her face blank. There was a point to this. He wanted something from her. Fear. Loathing. Information. Something.
“It was an old spell that got me thinking. Fairly impregnable. Our druids spent more than a day breaking it. Much more.” He picked his teeth, dislodging something that he popped in his mouth and swallowed. “What had the king once hidden that was so important? He lets anyone in his court, except humans. First time I saw you, I mistook you for a human…until the king’s spawn showed up. Lysander may not agree with his father…on anything, but he doesn’t play with humans. Yet, there you were.” He pursed his lips. “Where was I? Oh, yes. If the king is afraid of no one, what did he need to hide?”
Siofra wasn’t going to answer. Lìos was having too much fun telling his own story.
“Needless to say, I figured it out and I intend to take it from him. I now have everything I need. You showed up at the perfect time.” He wrapped both hands around a distended belly that was bigger than Siofra’s entire body. “I would have gone to war and forced him to give me his half of the crown, but this way his own son and the queen will do it for me.”
“If you know who I am, you know I have no value to the Sidhe. I was a changeling.”
He laughed. “Now, there’s a story. Queen abandons daughter. Prince loses bride. King betrays them all. And now you’re back.”
“What is your colossal plan? You seem enthusiastic about it.”
Lìos tilted his head to survey the courtyard and smiled at things Siofra couldn’t see. She turned her head. Multitudes of giant monsters were entering the courtyard. Hundreds? More?
“We intend to call for your champion. He’ll bring the Sidhe from the Summer and Winter courts, all their fey minions, and we’ll kill them. We may eat them first. It all depends on how long they last.”
“That isn’t honorable. If you call for a champion, don’t you intend to best him, man-to-man? Where is the victory in ambush? Do you not think their magic will overtake you? You are on their lands.”
His eyes flashed red. “Fey magic is no match for our druids. Are you not here? And I think you miss the point. I am the rightful heir to the throne. My lineage is just as impressive as yours.” He swung his only arm up to scratch his head, barely missing her jaw. “Did you know my great-great-great grandfather, Dian Cecht, made the silver crown that his own son, Miach, endowed with the power that turned Nuada’s silver arm back to flesh? When I unite both halves of the crown, the stone will recognize me, and all the powers of the queen and king will come flooding into my veins. Goodbye, Sidhe empires. Goodbye Faerie lands. Hello, Fomoria.”
And the end to the somewhat peaceful coexistence of the fey and humans. There’s no way an all-powerful magical giant would hold back from decimating the weak humans. The carnage, like the days of old, would be endless. Unless she stopped them.
“What was it you wanted with me? I forgot.”
“I don’t think you can forget being bait.” His arm swung out again, and this time it connected. Siofra’s head crashed against the stone wall and bounced off, sending her once more into oblivion.
The next time she woke, darkness had settled on the site. Siofra opened and closed her eyes several times to help them adjust, but the knock on the head must have given her a swollen eye that refused to obey. Ordinarily, the darkness would have made her feel safer, but not around the Fomorians. Based on the book, her movements in darkness were just as easy for them to see.
A single firefly floated over the walls, flashing every now and then, flitting left and right aimlessly. The only beautiful thing in her surroundings.
Thank you, Lord. I know you’re always near. Help me navigate these hostilities and bring peace. I think I know what you want, but really, neither side of this coming war has given you much thought. Have your way. Please protect Lysander.
The firefly went back over the wall, and Siofra sighed. Darkness again. At some point, she fell asleep because when next she opened her eyes, sun radiated against her cold, stiff form. Fomorians were moving about, occasionally looking her way. None curious.
Siofra shifted so more of the sun warmed her. She fluttered her eyes. The injured eye was sore, but she could see now.
What she assumed to be a woman, from the bounteous bosom on its stomach, waddled toward Siofra and removed the ropes. “Come.”
Siofra rubbed her arms and stood, taking a moment to flex her legs. The woman marched outside the portcullis, and Siofra followed. Oh, that she hadn’t. There were Fomorian troops as far as the eye could see, giants as tall as the trees. The woman led Siofra behind a grove and pointed. “This is as private as it gets for you. I would not think of running. You’re as valuable dead as alive.”
Siofra slowly approached a tree, swinging her satchel behind her. Once she’d taken care of private business, she opened the bag. What could she leave here to mark the way? To call them to her. The rowan wood was as good as anything. She tied one of her green ribbons on it and dropped it on the ground.
When she reached the woman, she held out a blue ribbon. “Thank you.”
If the Fomorians were in Faerie, hopefully, the rules still applied. Siofra waited to see if the woman would take it. She did, tying it around her gargantuan finger like a ring. That was two favors the woman owed her for a free offer of thanks and a free gift.
While they ambled back to the entrance, Siofra nibbled on the last remaining bun and drank some water. She felt better already.
Once they passed through the entryway, she knew something had happened. The Fomorians rushed about as if packing up. Finally, Lìos appeared.
“It’s time to move to the meeting site.”
Siofra sucked in a breath. What about her rowan wood? “I need…I need…” She pointed at the gate.
An evil, leering grin lit his face. “This, perhaps?” He held up the piece of wood, which looked like nothing but a twig in his hand. He crushed it and let the ribbon trail down to her. “You can have this one, too.” The ribbon she’d offered the woman dropped on Siofra’s lap.
Siofra looked around for the woman. Her single baleful eye glared at Lìos. She huffed then stomped out the gate.
“Your trinkets have no power over Fomorians, else I would have taken the satchel from you.” He laughed, his round belly shaking. “How humorous for you to bungle around with cheap tricks that only work on fairies. Do we look like fairies to you?”
He was still laughing as he marched outside.
Despicable fiend, completely full of his own supremacy. The lofty always fall from a great height. He would get what he deserved, and it wouldn’t be a crown.
Siofra joined the que. How would they move this great, lumbering army without drawing undue attention?
When Siofra reached the portcullis, she passed through a shimmering barrier that brought her to another place, a brighter place. How had the Fomorians learned to travel through barriers from one realm to another when she didn’t even know how? They weren’t as skilled as Lysander. He could disappear and appear at will.
Were they now on Seelie lands? She dearly hoped so. If anyone were inclined to help her, she had more faith in the Seelie.
Siofra ignored the scarred, meaty hand clinching her shoulder to survey a rolling vista of green and a vast army of Fomorians. Truly, she’d never before seen so many people in one place, not even on Rotten Row at the height of London season. But where were the fey?
A cackle against her ear brought her head jerking around to face Lìos, his brows raised in mocking superiority. “What? Searching for rescue? They won’t be here until tomorrow. We’re just…” He patted the knife at his side. “…preparing the area.”
Ambush! Lìos already had so many advantages over the Sidhe, why did he still feel the need to play false? Merely his nature? Or, was he not as confident as his jeering professed?
Once the giant Fomorians moved out of her way, Siofra was able to see she was very near stone monoliths set into the ground, some leaning, some completely fallen over. At one time, this had been a gathering place of great import.
Lìos leaned against a stone. “You don’t recognize it? A bit before your time. In the human realm, this is where the battle raged between my people and Tuatha Dé Danann. This is where our right to rule was stolen from us, and where we’ll take it all back. A fitting end to the Sidhe, don’t you think?”
Siofra rolled her eyes. He was ever the bard, playing to an audience of one. When she didn’t respond, he eventually joined the other giants, shouting orders in a tongue she didn’t recognize.
She settled on a large piece of fallen stone and watched as the Fomorians equipped the area. What she supposed to be the druids Lìos had mentioned, wandered the countryside, murmuring over the ground, spreading something that resembled fine crumbs for birds…or fairy dust. It couldn’t be fairy dust and bird food made no sense, so it must be some concoction of the druids.
Of all the Fomorians, these were darkness itself. They had none of the abnormalities of the others, their skin shone, their streaming fair hair glimmered, but their eyes—like looking into a bottomless pit. After the first time, Siofra refused to meet their gaze.
By nightfall, she was ravenously hungry and thirsty. But if she didn’t drink or eat, she didn’t need to walk behind a tree.
Lìos approached, his double-rowed teeth gleaming in the darkness. “You look weak…and ill. Good.” He motioned at someone, and Siofra heard the clank of metal. “We brought some iron bindings. Wouldn’t want you slipping away in the night. Who knows? Perhaps you’ll be dead by morning.”
But iron didn’t bother her. Should she fake an aversion to it or exhibit bravery and throw him off?
“You might be surprised in the morning, Lìos, but it won’t be from my death.” She held out her arms for the chains and showed not a flicker of reaction when they touched her skin. Cold, perhaps, but nothing more.
Thank you, Lord.
“Watch her,” Lìos said then stomped away.
The night was long, cold, and filled with sounds Siofra didn’t understand. How she longed for her fur-lined pelisse, hung in the closet at home. Even the red cape would be welcome, though it was thin, something to help with the constant shivering.
When yellow light peeked over the horizon, she was never so happy to see dawn. Your mercies are new every morning, Lord. I ask for mercy for this day. I don’t know who needs it, but I think everyone involved will need you as their strong tower.
Tears threatened, but she held them back. She would not appear weak in front of creatures that behaved much like animals in a pack. She’d seen more than her desired share of sniffing, prodding, licking, and outright blows.
Even bickering amongst themselves, one thing occupied their thoughts with single-minded devotion. They wanted to end the Sidhe—in death or slavery—either option meant victory.
The Sidhe arrived not long after the sky opened to the day. There Siofra sat, her head hung over her lap, where she supported the heavy chains on her arms. Gentle hands hugged her close and patted her back and her head. “Are you well, my dear one? I will annihilate them all for this injustice.”
“Mother? You mustn’t be here. It’s a trap. They don’t intend to honor—”
“Shhh. Never you mind.” A kiss landed on Siofra’s cheek, the pain left her injured eye, then her mother’s presence left her.
They were here! Her heart leapt for joy. Lysander was also here somewhere. She wanted to search the distance for any sign of him, but wouldn’t risk alerting the Fomorians, so she sat still, rejoicing in silence. Oh Lord, protect and keep them.
“It is time!” Lìos called out, waving his arms at his comrades. “I know you’re here, O mighty Sidhe. Show yourselves.”
First the king and queen appeared, a stone’s throw from Siofra, then Lysander, a step further back, then legions of fey sprang into view, small, tall, giant, some more fair than others. As far as the eye could see, the king and queen had brought their subjects and the free fey amidst the Fomorians. Siofra stood to show her solidarity, tugging at the chains until she could rise to her full height.
The queen stepped forward, glittering in her finery and brilliance, eyes burning like fire. “You have stolen my bairn and violated a peace treaty, eons old. We, the Sidhe and rightful rulers of this land of Faerie, hold it against thee.”
Bairn? Siofra didn’t see herself as a baby, but to someone who had lived as long as her mother…
The king moved to stand with the queen. “You have disfigured the edifice of the Stone of Destiny in an attempt to misuse its power in the land of Faerie. You have invaded our lands in order to steal from us. We hold it against thee.”
Lysander stepped past the both of them. His gaze darted to Siofra for one moment then he spoke. “You have betrayed the trust of the land of Faerie and murdered the Keeper, an innocent. Her blood cries out for vengeance. We hold it against thee.”
Lìos held up his one arm and advanced to Lysander. “Enough of your self-righteous talk. He held out the broken piece of crown, a brilliant arc of slender gold, and another Fomorian joined him, holding high a sizeable chunk of stone about the size of Siofra’s head. “Where is the other half of the crown, a crown forged by my kin and endowed with power by my kin. Let the Fal decide.”
Lysander shook his head. “A crown torn asunder in a murderous war act by your kin. Your rights are null and void. Neither will we let you look on our crown. You are not worthy.”
As the last word left Lysander’s mouth, Lìos struck out, catching nothing but air. Lysander has disappeared and reappeared somewhere else. Chaos ensued as the Fomorians turned on the fey in a bloodbath that quickly sickened Siofra’s stomach. War was a horrifying thing. Not at all did she understand the soldiers who had paid for their place in the army to fight against France. But this? This was carnage. Magic poured out of the ground, lit the skies, and turned people into dust.
The queen and king were invincible, battling back-to-back as they wiped out groups of Fomorians with a single wave of the hand. Lysander fought Lìos in brutal hand-to-hand combat, with Lìos towering over him, pelting him with blows. The giant may have only one arm, but his superior size and strength still gave him the edge.
The crown was nowhere in sight, though Siofra searched the ground for it. Lìos must have spelled it away along with the stone. What could she do, chained as she was? The entire company seemed to have forgotten her.
She pulled at the chains. Where was the padlock? Father, now would be a very good time to break the chains in my life. I beseech you for the wisdom to walk in your authority.
Siofra picked up the chains and slammed them against the stone of the monolith, again and again. Using all her strength, she held them high and brought them down, bruising her knuckles against the stone. When they shattered, she took a shuddering breath. So much for the power of iron against a child of the Most High God.