Dolmarehn - Book Two of the Otherworld Trilogy (15 page)

His response only encouraged me to ask another question, one that had been fluttering around in the recesses of my mind since the beginning of summer.

“Cade,” I said warily, “you told me, after the Morrigan attacked me last year, that you thought you knew who my parents were.”

A long silence ensued and for a moment I wondered if I had asked the wrong question.

“Yes, I remember,” Cade finally answered, his grip on me tightening again.  “Unfortunately, I’ve been kept busy these past months, but I promise you Meghan, when I am entirely convinced of the truth, I will tell you.”

I clenched my fists, fighting the odd desire to scream in irritation.  It was perfectly clear he was withholding something from me, but frustrated as I may be, I didn’t think I should press him.  Taking a deep breath, I told myself to practice some patience and reminded myself that he
would
tell me.  Some day.

We entered a small wood and I returned my thoughts to the present, contemplating what the Dagda might be like and wondering who else Cade wanted me to meet.  What would
they
think of
me
?  A Fae strayling, raised outside the Otherworld, without a clue as to how to behave or even function in Eilé.  I was doomed.

Once we came clear of the trees, I spotted a massive dolmarehn at the top of a gently sloping hill.  I gaped in trepidation, remembering the small ones on either side of the mortal world.

“It’s huge!” I blurted.

Cade drew Speirling to a stop and nodded.  “This one is meant to accommodate whole armies on the move.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, and I leaned closer to Cade as he led his horse between the massive stone columns.  It seemed strange, not having blackness looming ahead, for I could see straight through the stone doorway and into the distance.  On the other side I spotted more rolling land, barren of everything but mossy stones and grass.

The familiar sensation of passing through a dolmarehn tugged on my nerves, and before I took my next breath we were through.  The scene looked almost the same, only the land rolled more smoothly and fewer trees grew here.

“By midday we’ll reach the Dagda’s house, if we can encourage Speirling to move at a brisker pace,” Cade said.

I nodded, registering the uneasiness unfurling in my stomach again.  I tightened my grasp on the stallion’s mane as we galloped across the open plains, trying to ignore my anxiety.

A few hours later, our destination came into view.  I had almost fallen asleep due to the boredom of being tossed around on a horse’s back while staring at miles upon miles of empty landscape, but at least there had been great white patches of snow every now and again to break up the monotony of our journey.  The sudden appearance of a family of steep hills, rising up out of the flatness like gopher mounds, caught my attention first.  I blinked away my weariness, not sure if what I was seeing was an illusion.  A thicket of trees curving off to the south and a plume of smoke rising from somewhere within those hills forced me to sit more upright on Speirling’s back.

Ten minutes later we reached the base of the first hill.  I assumed the smoke I’d seen came from a cabin, but if the Dagda lived here, wouldn’t he have a much grander house than a cabin?  I mean, he was one of the major deities of the Tuatha De Danaan, and the space between the hills seemed too narrow to accommodate a castle or a manor house.  Maybe his abode was on the other side of the hills.

Meridian swooped down onto my shoulder and gave me a disconcerting glance.

Inside hill
, she sent.

What
?

Smoke.  Inside hill
.

I turned my gaze back to the hills, or rather, to the wide path meandering between them.

I looked up at Cade.  “Meridian says the smoke is inside the hill.”

He grinned in response, as if he knew some secret I didn’t.  Of course he did.

“The Dagda’s home is actually within one of these hills.”

I gave him my best expression of disbelief and he laughed, throwing up a hand in defense.

“If you’ll allow me, I’ll prove it to you.”

I nodded and he moved Speirling forward.

We took the road between the hills and eventually it split, continuing in either direction around a huge mound centered amongst them all.  A wide ring of extra space surrounded this hill, as if the others had moved over to give the small mountain more breathing room.  A heavy, carved wooden door stood slightly off center, built right into the hillside itself.  And yes, several columns of smoke rose from narrow chimneys protruding from different places along the hill’s sides.

Before I could ask any questions, Cade dismounted and walked up to the door, using the iron knocker to alert whoever might dwell inside of the presence of visitors.  A minute passed, then another.  Cade knocked again.  I had been too busy gawking at the strange entrance and chimneys, that for a few heartbeats I forgot this was the Dagda’s house and that I would soon meet one of the hero-gods of Celtic myth.  When my moment of stupidity passed, my stomach took another plunge.

Finally, the door creaked open and a woman peered out, looking like she’d just crawled out of bed.  She blinked wearily at Cade, and after taking in his entire form, her beautiful face broke into a wide grin.

“Caedehn!  Oh sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

“Just dropping by for a visit, Alannah.  Is my foster father in?”

Alannah huffed affectionately at him and cried, “Of course he is!  Still in bed however, sleeping off a night of revelry, as usual!”

Cade smiled politely, then glanced in my direction.

Alannah followed his gaze and her clear green eyes grew wide with curiosity.

“Oh, now who might this be, young man?”

She had a light and teasing tone, but I tensed anyways.  I didn’t know her, and her raven-black hair reminded me of the Morrigan.

Cade lost his easy smile and he glanced over at me.“This is Meghan, the one I’ve told you about.”

Alannah’s eyes widened even further.

The one he’d told her about?  I frowned in Cade’s direction, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Well, come in you two, we’ll make breakfast!”

And with that, Cade stepped over and helped me off of Speirling’s back as a young man emerged to lead the horse away.  I watched as he guided the black horse around to the stables that were carved into the side of one of the smaller hills before following Cade and Alannah inside.

The interior of the Dagda’s house was spacious, warm and in a rustic sort of way, cozy.  Everything was wide open with several wooden beams and columns spread throughout.  I found the brightness to be a welcome surprise, considering we were underground, but I grinned when I noticed a scattering of well-placed windows to help bring in sunlight.  Smooth stone covered much of the floor and large rugs with intricate knot work designs helped add color.  The place exuded luxury, but in a subtle way, reminding me of a mountain lodge in winter.

We hadn’t moved beyond the main entrance hall when a powerful, boisterous voice filled the quiet atmosphere.

“Where is he?  Where is that boy!”

Before I could so much as search for a proper hiding place, a huge man, dressed in a long embroidered robe worthy of a Renaissance Faire, came barreling down the hallway, followed by a retinue of women and wolfhounds.

I gaped, my eyes growing wide with surprise.  The man stood even taller than Cade and had twice his bulk.  No, not pudgy as I’d pictured him, but strong and solid, like a warrior recently retired from battle.  His strawberry blond hair and beard contained a dusting of white, making me imagine he was in his mid-fifties.  However, my knowledge of the Celtic legends suggested he was much, much older.

His pale blue eyes scanned the cavernous room until they fell upon Cade.

His slight frown changed immediately to a grin and those eyes, so full of intelligence and wisdom, brightened and almost turned gold.

“Caedehn!  Why in all of Eilé have you taken you so long to come visit me?”

He flung open his arms and moved towards Cade, half tripping over his dogs on the way.

Panicking, I took a step back right before the Dagda wrapped Cade in a bear hug.  If I wasn’t so terrified of this overwhelming person I would have laughed at the whole scene.

The Dagda set Cade down and they started talking animatedly in that ancient language I didn’t know.  I had a strange inclination they discussed me, especially when the Dagda’s eyebrows shot up and he cast me a curious glance.  His eyes softened and he smiled once more.  Now I understand why he had such a reputation for being a lady’s man.  I could almost feel the charisma pouring off of him.

“So, this is the Meghan you’ve written about.”

He crossed his arms and examined me from head to toe.  I stood still, too nervous to even breathe.  He said something more to Cade, once again in their archaic language.

He nodded once and shifted his bright blue eyes on me while offering his hand.  “I’m so very glad to meet you, young lady.  Cade had nothing but wonderful things to say about you in his letters.”

I took his hand warily and he gave me a firm handshake.

“Now,” the Dagda stood up straight again, clapping his hands together, “anyone hungry for breakfast?”

In half an hour’s time we were all seated in a roomy kitchen in which three of the walls consisted entirely of windows, giving us a view of the close hills on one side and a small lake in the distance on the other.  I gazed around in wonder at all the pots and pans, wall hangings and herbs that decorated the space in a well-organized mess.

“Normally we eat in the dining room,” the Dagda said with a roll of his eyes, “but since it is just family, the kitchen is more appropriate.  Seems like the proper place to eat, in my opinion.”

I glanced up only to find him smiling kindly at me.  I darted my eyes towards Cade.  He busied himself with studying his cup of tea.  Family?  Was I considered family?  Because I was with Cade?  Perhaps the Dagda had a different notion of the word, since Alannah and the other women had silently joined us as well.

At the end of breakfast, Cade asked his foster father about his cauldron.

“My Cauldron?” the Dagda replied in surprise.

“Yes, I hoped Meghan might get a chance to see it since she is just becoming familiar with her own magic.”

The Dagda’s eyebrows rose even further, then he grinned.  “Of course!  Come on, this way!  Now mind you, I haven’t used my dear Cauldron in centuries, so it may take some effort to coax the magic back to life.”

I gave Cade a questioning look, but he merely grabbed my hand and grinned as he pulled me after the Dagda down a long hallway.  At the end we took a set of stone stairs leading into a deep basement.  We seemed to descend for miles before we came to an old door someone might find in a castle dungeon.

The Dagda grumbled as he fiddled with a set of keys, using five of them to unlock the door.  The room we stepped into gave me the heebie-jeebies.  Damp, stone walls surrounded us and a smell of dankness crept up my nose.  Old torches, hanging in iron sconces, burst into flame as we passed, and I suspected magic was involved because the little pinprick near my heart flared with each flame burst.

Finally, we stopped in front of a huge kettle a little larger than a hot tub.  Torches stood around the Dagda’s prized possession as well, and as I got over the uncomfortable sensation of being in an underground dungeon, I took a moment to study it.  The massive vessel appeared to be made of a dark bronze material, the sides decorated with several images I recognized from my books on Celtic lore.

“This is the Cauldron I used in the battle against the Fomorians so long ago.”  The Dagda patted a curved side affectionately, causing a low, chilling ring to shudder throughout the room.  “So many lives restored because of its priceless power.”

“Can I touch it?” I asked, surprised at my own bravado.

The Dagda smiled and nodded.  “See if you can detect its magic.”

Taking a deep breath I glanced at Cade.  He nodded, his expression clear of any emotion.  Tentatively, I reached out my hand and brushed my fingers over the cold metal.  A flash of power shot up my arm and joined the speck of magic next to my heart.  I hissed and drew my arm back, but the sensation hadn’t hurt.

“Try again,” the Dagda insisted, pressing his hand to the Cauldron and closing his eyes.

I did what he said, Cade as well.  This time I pressed the flat of my palm against the metal and my mind became flooded with the images of the past.  Epic battles and feasts had been supplied by this Cauldron.  It had been used to bring the dead back to life and to cook a meal to feed thousands.  The magic surging through the ancient vessel was exhilarating, and by the time I pulled my hand away, that power had a name: life.  The Dagda’s Cauldron contained the power of life.

I wobbled a little when I took a step back, Cade catching my arms so I wouldn’t fall.

“Careful Meghan, the Cauldron can do that to you.”

A smile lingered in his voice but I was too overwhelmed to respond, and the slight ache in the spot where my magic lay hidden was a bit distracting.