Descendant (30 page)

“Sorry I missed your party. I really wanted to be there.”

She tries to laugh, but it sounds brittle. “Don’t worry, you didn’t miss much.”

M
urtagh makes an appearance during takeoff. He moves around in my pocket, so I look inside and find him cradled in the seam, kicking to get my attention. “So tired.” He yawns, stretches up to his full three-inch height.

“Then go back to sleep. We’re almost there.”

“No,
cailín
girl. Sacred place, very far. Must walk.” Murtagh sits up. “Find warrior-prince.”

I wonder how he found me, why he’s still here. “Who are you, Murtagh? Where did you come from?”

With a proud smile, he pats his chest. “Murtagh water sprite. Called by warrior.” He points at me. “Help young woman. You,
mo chara.”

Murtagh’s English is so broken, he’s hard to understand.
“Mo chara.
What does that mean?”

He taps the top of his head with a tiny finger, then, seeming to have translated my question, says,
“Mo chara.
My friend.”

“And
cailín?
What is that?”

Again, the pause for translation, then, “Girl.”

It dawns on me that Murtagh has probably been providing me with the translations to his words all along and I’ve just been to overwhelmed to hear them. Promising myself that I’ll listen closer, I decide against asking him to translate more. “Okay, back to how you got here. What did you say about a warrior?”

“White animal. Moose. Friend warrior-prince.”

I lean against the window. “Finn?” It makes no sense to me, but that’s nothing new.

“Go to sacred place, fight battle. Murtagh hero!”

My confusion is only getting worse, but the corners of my lips turn up at his determined posture. “Is that what this is about? You want to be a hero?”

Murtagh spreads his arms wide. “Murtagh brave.”

I shake my head, smiling wider. I believe him, though I shouldn’t. “Yes, Murtagh the water sprite. You are brave.”

And despite his size and broken English, Murtagh is already, in a way, my hero.

A
s the plane descends, the sky turns from ink black to navy, royal blue, purple, and finally the smallest hint of pink creeps up over the mountains in the east.

The freezing Jackson air seeps into my skin as I disembark bundled in Kye’s jacket, watching for a familiar face. I’m shocked to find several. Rose is here, with Jen and Eric, Akers, and a white-haired man I’ve never met. Something about his eyes—steady and so dark they’re nearly black—seems familiar to me.

Rose dashes to my side, horrified, as she takes in my appearance. Dress ripped and stained, hair hanging in strings around my shoulders, and cheeks probably streaked with mascara. Not to mention my wounds that are healing but still appear red and angry.

“Abby! What’s going on? What happened to you?”

I open my mouth, ready to spill everything, but my throat is clogged and my eyes burn. A heavy weight settles on my chest as the enormity of everything that’s transpired over the last three days hits me. Swallowing, I try again.

My pocket vibrates and Murtagh flies out, fluttering around and speaking his strange language with almost no English mixed in. I do manage to catch a few words, though. “No fail. Cannot fail. Must find sacred place.”

“What is that?”

“Is he talking?”

“What’s he saying?”

I hear all the questions, but still can’t find my voice. Luckily, Akers answers for me. “That, kids, is a water sprite. Abby’s picked up a friend. Water sprites don’t attach themselves to just anyone, and they especially don’t often travel long distances from home.”

Murtagh buzzes around my head, repeating the same jumbled words over and over again. Jen looks enchanted. “What’s he saying?”

The white-haired man answers, his voice grave. “He says, ‘Death, pain, misery. Must not fail. Powerful magic. Must find sacred place.’” He turns to me. “Young lady, you have some explaining to do. What exactly is going on? And where is my boy, Kye?”

My gaze darts from person to person, finally settling on the familiar eyes belonging to the only person I don’t know. “Kye’s gone. They took him. He’s gone.”

At
  my own words, my knees buckle. Rose wraps her arm around me and helps me to my feet.

“Who took him, Abby?” Mr. Akers asks.

“I think it was Boone.” Jen hands me a tissue and I wipe my eyes. “Juri grabbed me. They separated us, so I didn’t see what happened to Kye, and by the time I got away, Kye had disappeared. Then Tynan showed up, only he wasn’t really there, he was projecting, and he told me Kye was gone, and I knew it was true because I felt it first, then saw it in a vision, and then Tynan said if I wanted to find Kye I would have to deliver the Keys into the jaws of the beast and unseal the tomb. Whatever that means.” I stop to take a breath. “I had a vision of Kye hanging from a ceiling by his wrists, and they’re hurting him. He can’t escape by himself, so we have to help him.” Hysteria bubbles in my throat; my breathing is quick and shallow.

“Calm down, Abby.” Akers squeezes my hand. “We’re going to help him.”

Again, I realize how many people have come to pick me up. “What are you all doing here?”

Rose clears her throat. “You said you needed help. So, I rounded up the troops—so to speak.”

Eric coughs. He’s standing apart from the rest of the group,
nursing his arm in a way that reminds me he’s still injured. “How are you doing?”

He shrugs. “Could be worse. It’s my own fault. Well, and Johnny’s. I never could resist a dare.”

When he coughs again, I wince, feeling a touch of sympathy until I realize he’s laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“You should see yourself.” His shoulders are shaking. “You took off with that guy and came back looking like you did battle with a small army. You’re a wreck, and now you’ve come back needing us all to rescue you? I’d say I told you so, but I never got the chance to warn you before you left.”

I cross to him in two strides and haul my fist back, but Jen catches my elbow, shaking her head. “Not now. We have more important things to deal with.” She scowls at Rose. “I can’t believe you got me into this.”

Rose flips back her rumpled hair, smoothing it behind her collar. “You were born into it. No amount of denial’s gonna take it away. Besides, Abby’s our friend and Kye’s my cousin. They need our help.”

Jen won’t meet anyone’s eye. “My assistance might burn the place down. How is that helpful?”

Everyone objects to Jen’s comment at once—except me. I’m curious what she means. The white-haired man shushes them and herds us out the door. “Are you sure it was Tynan? What did he look like?”

I hang back from the group. “Not to be rude, but who are you?”

He stalks over and shakes my hand. “I’m Valdemar. Nice to meet you.”

Valdemar. The man who raised Kye. Suddenly, I’m flustered, but I manage a smile. “I’ve heard so much about you, Valdemar.”

“Yes. I’m sure you have. Call me Val.” He drags me to the parking lot and hits the remote start on a waiting Suburban. “Can you describe Tynan for me?”

I tell him everything I remember while we all pile into the car. Murtagh buzzes around but doesn’t get in. “Aren’t you coming?” I ask.

He flutters near me, looking torn. “No,
cailín
girl. Murtagh find sacred place. We separate.”

Murtagh’s leaving now? The thought makes me feel like I’ve been stabbed in the chest. I’m surrounded by people who care, so why do I feel like I’m losing my only friend? My voice catches. “Where will you go?”

“No worry,
mo chara
.” He points at the carload. “Friends, not?”

A tiny smile plays at my cold lips. “Yes.”

“Murtagh fly to sacred place.
cailín
girl go with friends. Yes?”

“Okay.” I nod and swallow some threatening tears. “Will I see you again?”

“Soon, yes.” Murtagh bobs up and down, and in a flurry of light and shiny wings, he’s gone.

At Mr. Akers’s insistence, I sit in the front passenger side, where he covers me with a heavy blanket. My teeth are chattering when he closes the door.

Valdemar hardly glances in the mirror as he pulls out of the parking lot. “How much has Kye told you about Dryden’s royal family?”

I recount a shortened version of what Kye and Eoin told me.

“It’s good you know all that.” Val rubs a hand over his stubbly cheek. “You should also know that Tynan is Theron’s biological brother.”

“Kye has a brother?” As I say the words, I realize my mistake.

“No, Kye doesn’t.” Val shoots me a startled look as he turns north toward the parks—instead of south to Jackson. “Theron does. They were twins. Theron was to rule as King of the mortal Elen, while Tynan’s destiny lay in the Otherworld with the immortal ones. The boys were like the sun and moon, opposites in every way. They were evenly matched in power and ability, and were forever in competition.”

“Bet the king loved that.” Snow flurries land on the windshield, so cold they flutter around like leaves on the wind rather than melting where they land.

“Isleen saw to it that he didn’t know. But the lie cost her. My theory is that, in the process of giving birth, each child took approximately one fourth of Isleen’s powers—which she should have recovered under normal circumstances but never did. I suspect it’s part of the
deal she made with the Morrigana. I’m not sure. Regardless, the deception cost Isleen a full half of her powers.”

“That’s why they made this pendant.” My fingers stroke the warm stones.

“Presumably. Isleen knew what Tynan was before he was born, and also that she couldn’t keep both children. When she gave birth, she turned Tynan over to the Dark Ones, having never laid eyes on him.”

“How could she do that?” The horror of it shocks me. How did I not know this of the woman I’ve seen in so many visions?

Valdemar sighs. “She didn’t have a choice. If she wanted to keep Theron, she had to give up Tynan. He was a preconceived sacrifice.”

“Why would the queen have to sacrifice a prince?”

Val bites his lip as if trying to decide the best way to explain. “Because of the way the boys were conceived. See, King Damon wasn’t the father of Isleen’s babies. Rhys was. Those boys were created in a mix of love and betrayal, splitting the queen’s heart—and her embryo—in two. The goddesses Morrigana gave Isleen a choice. She could abort the fetuses and remain childless forever, or she could carry them to term and give one away. The child born as the manifestation of Isleen’s betrayal would be taken and raised as Prince of the Otherworld Elen. He’d live on one of the Phantom Islands as a royal child, raised with every privilege until he could be crowned at eighteen. She felt it a better alternative than abortion.”

“That doesn’t sound so terrible,” Rose says from the back.

“Raised as a prince and crowned at eighteen?” Jen says. “Sounds good to me.”

He was raised by demons.
I glance up at Val, sick to my stomach. “He didn’t have a chance.”

“No, he didn’t.” Val tips the rearview mirror so he can glance at Rose and Jen. “I’m certain Tynan didn’t live the life you’re picturing.” He returns his eyes to the road. “Anyway, fast-forward a few years. Tynan wasn’t happy living in the Otherworld—”