TIED (A Fire Born Novel) (27 page)

Max shifts his weight. “I need your word that she will remain hidden and protected.”

The Queen rises to her full height, lifting her chin. “You have my word. Where Teine has gone, no one can follow.”

Max gives a curt nod and turns.

“Mackenzie …”

He spins back.

“Know that I cannot keep Teine hostage. She will fight for you should it come to that.”

“I don’t want her to fight for me!” Anger overrides his measured composure. “I want her kept out of this!”

“She is a part of this. Holding her captive will not change anything. Know the only true pain that can be inflicted upon Teine is losing you. Be safe. There are many hidden dangers in this world. Many more in the realms that lie beyond.” Her eyes darken. “MacKenzie—the danger … do not go looking for it.”

• • •

I forced my eyes to open, to sit upright as the ocean gusts swirled through the bedroom window.
Max. What are you doing?

Scanning the bedroom, drowsy intoxication pressed on me. Flowered scents encompass the space, filling my head with heaviness, my eyelids drooping. I willed them open, swaying where I sat. The cry of seagulls called across the open ocean. My eyes closed again, my head dropping like a ragdoll’s against the pillow laden bed.

••

“Raise the children together.” My father paces in front of a cave mouth, his warm brown hair in crazed disarray. “Raise MacKenzie as a Tuatha Dé Danaan. Hide him. He will never know the truth. It is the only way to protect Teine.” He hesitates. “The Fire Born aren’t meant to fight one another! This is a sick game the Ancients are playing!” He stops and glares toward the ocean. “We can change fate.” His voice cracks. “Teine and MacKenzie will never have to fight against one another. Let them share love for the other.” He turns to my grandmother. “It’s the only way.”

The creases around her her worn and wrinkled eyes holds understanding. “And if the Fomore find out what the boy is—who he is? Do not assume they are unaware of the Legend.”

My father’s posture loosens. “Then we lose two innocent children. We lose our world. We have to try.”

My aunt sits quietly, her arms folded in her lap, and turns to my grandmother. “Without the light that now resides in Teine, we die. The Fomore will hunt her as they have her parents.” She inclines her head to my father. “Should they learn she is also one of the Fire Born of Legend … the hunt will be more than we can shield.” She sighs. “The infant boy must be taken. Foe or Ally … an attack from her Twin Soul will kill her. Either of body or of heart. And then we will all lose.”

My father sinks down by the window, his shirt coming un-tucked and draping over his belt in places. “Mairsale?”

Ms. MacLarnon, ashen faced, rises to her feet, chin held high against obvious fear. “I will raise the Fomore boy as my own. I will assume the position of his Bean Tighe.” She bows her head.

My father exhales. “Thank you. I am in your debt.”

“What of my daughter?” My grandmother’s raspy voice carries. “Does she hold to your beliefs?” Her eyebrow lifts.

My father’s shoulders fall. “She still wishes to flee.”

“Of course she does.”

• • •

Screams of fury filled my brain. I twisted and turned, trapped in my own head.

••

The man sits in silence, his chin resting against entwined fingers, breathing erratic as he stares into the center of an inferno. Flames lick the air, reaching for his beard, his silvered robes and gnarled hands.

“My King, we have confirmed the boy is your own.” A voice speaks, hidden by shadow. “The Legend is true. We will end our pursuit.” He bows.

The man in robes doesn’t flinch. “The Fire Born. Returned.” He nods. “What of his mother?” His tone is calm.

“She has been hidden and protected by the Tuatha Dé Danaan. She would not have been able to shield his energy on her own.”

“The boy has been raised by the Tuatha Dé Danaan. My own son raised to hate me.” He snickers and pushes to his feet. “Raised to fight against the Fomore. His own people!” His calm demeanor vanishes, leaving malice in its wake. “What of the girl?”

The servant bows. “The girl is a descendant of the Morrigan, as Legend says. Her power will be immense.”

“We cannot allow them to gain full strength. They are still young enough to control. Bring the boy to me. Do not harm him. He must be made to understand the ways of the Fomore. Leave the girl.”

“Yes, My King.” The informant bows low to the ground before vanishing.

The King paces in front of a massive stone fireplace, crudely built of tumbled grey rock. It stands well above his head, the hearth large enough for several grown men to stand upright inside it. Flames blaze outward, beads of sweat rolling off his brow.

His eyes dart toward the corner of the darkened room where another figure sits hidden in shadow. “The Tuatha Dé Danaan will pay for such deception. Gather our forces. I will ally the boy with the Fomore. He will help us in the destruction of the World of Light and all who stand to protect them—including his Twin Soul. We will see that the Morrigan’s curse is fulfilled.” The King pauses, staring into the fire. “I wonder if the Morrigan knew she cursed her own blood to death?” His thin mouth curls into a wicked grin. “MacKenzie believing he was shielding Teine from the enemy. Never knowing the enemy was himself.” His laugh booms. “Such fools the Tuatha Dé Danaan are.” His dark eyes glance back to the corner of the room. “You have aided me well.”

The figure walks from the shadows, his face bathed in fire light.

“Just repaying my debt,” says Sam.

• • •

The vision broke in a blast of light, my head reeling, chest aching. My arms and legs hung heavy as lead at my sides, and I searched frantically around.

Where am I?

I struggled with my limbs, attempting to sit upright as the bedroom swam into foggy view, as if I’d been shot with a tranquilizer dart.

“Max is the Fomore heir. It … can’t be.” Words slurred from my mouth, and I shook my head as though it would somehow dislodge the vision.

Sam.

A familiar shuffling moved somewhere near me, the drag of an uneven walk. Events fell into place like puzzle pieces, and I focused across the room. “Grandmother …”

She settled on the bed beside me.

“It can’t be true.”

She patted my arm. “On the contrary, child, it can and is.” She sighed. “MacKenzie is the heir to the throne of The Fomorians. He is the King’s only son.”

No.

My grandmother squeezed my knee. “Infants born unto the Tuatha De Danaan and Fomorian Kings and Queens pitted against each other. Raised to hate one another. A battle to the death, the Legend said. And so your father, choosing to intervene, hoping he could change fate and stop the curse placed upon you, forged the Tie.” She spoke with kindness. “I’m sorry to be the one to share these truths, but … you must know. It is best, at times, to
see
, rather than be told. You are here for answers, remember?”

I shook my head, eyes shut tight. “Not this … I’ve seen enough. I shouldn’t have left. I made a mistake.” I swung myself up, but my weighted body threw everything off balance and I collapsed on the floor.

“When you are ready, Kindred, you may leave.” My grandmother extended a hand, helping me up, her grip and strength far greater than I would have imagined. “You have much to learn.”

“I’m ready.” I fell face first on the bed.

“Hush now. Your body must be allowed to go through many changes during the rekindling—as unpleasant as some may be.” She settled me into bed. “You are not ready.”

I tried to understand her.

She smiled down at me like she would a child. “I did not lead you into the Underground to stop you from fighting against those who hunt you. You are here to learn, and learn you will. I have no use for secrets, and my daughter has kept you hidden long enough. I will prepare you for what is coming.”

The ancient woman sitting next to me with skin folded in leathery pleats, whitened eyes, and a gait that I doubted would be capable of outrunning anyone, planned to prepare me?

“Do not judge by your eyes, Kindred. Eyes lie.” She touched my chest with a gentle hand. “The heart is all that matters in this life. Trust it. I promise, it will not lead you astray. Rest now. You will need it.”

27

Sam sits alone with his head in his hands, at a table of crudely carved stone, its jagged edges snagging the cloth of his shirtsleeves. The fire in the hearth licks at him, threatening to set ablaze his entire being. Sweat drips from his brow, his temples, down his chin.

“Sir, it has begun.” The robed servant speaks. “Per your orders, the boundary lines have been breached. Our forces have moved in.”

Sam nods but doesn’t look up. “No one is to be harmed.” His low tone breaks at the command.

“Of that sir, we can make no promises. Our assailants are hunters, not retrievers.”

Sam lifts his head, his eyes tainted orange by the firelight glow. “Do not harm them!” His stone chair flies across the room, crashing into the opposite wall.

“Yes, sir.” The servant bows. “Unharmed.”

• • •

A gasp escaped my lungs and my eyelids fluttered, my skin crawling as my internal vision flickered like a light switch turning on and off.

••

Glass explodes through the house. Blackened, weather-beaten wings take shape. Metallic scales adorning serpent-like claws grasp shattered window frames amidst protruding shards of glass, and avian creatures rip them free from the house’s foundation.

Scarlet streaks across Max’s eye, blood trickling from a slash down the side of his face. “The boundary lines are breached!”

A second detonation rips the roof free. Tile shingles and wooden beams collapse through the ceiling as towering black reptilian birds of prey descend from the skies in a swarm, landing in the center of the house.

A myriad of tattered scales and feathers hang from their lithe bodies, the forced entry ravaging them.

Tristan lies gasping on the floor, buried beneath a fallen rafter, his leg crushed and twisted in a haphazard angle.

Justice yells, falling to his knees and cradling his brother’s head. “Max! Block the doorways!”

French doors careen through the family room, the sound of splitting wood rattling the house.

• • •

My eyes shifted again, moving my focus across the room as I writhed, debilitated. As if I’d contracted some incurable fever I couldn’t recover or wake from.

••

Devon saunters through the chaos, his glazed stare falling on a woman clad in high-heeled, brown leather boots that rose to her knees below an ivory mid-thigh dress. Light brown glossy hair tumbles down her back, accenting shimmering tawny skin and powder-pink lips.

With deep purple silken fairy wings fluttering at her sides and narrow hips swaying, she glances toward Justice but holds her hand out to Devon, as if she’s relishing in the madness before she moves closer to Max.

The crash of the ocean impedes her voice as she speaks, unrelenting gales shaking what’s left of the window frames, and ripping the back deck from its footers.

“You.” Max steps forward through the chaos.

Hints of red bleed through yellow green irises under her long brown lashes. “Miss me?”

Max’s perplexed gaze veers toward Devon, glancing back and forth between them as his chest rises and falls.

“You know each other, I believe?” She gestures toward Devon.

“What’re you doing here?” Max’s defenses seem to fade, replaced by shock as he faces her.

She shrugs. “I came for you, of course.” She raises a hand to the blinding wind still tearing through the house and causing mayhem, and feigns a shudder. “You are powerful. I’ve always liked that.” She tilts her head and grins.

“
You
did this?” A shadow of confusion clouds his wrinkled brow. “All of this has been you?”

She juts out a hip and gestures toward the reptilian assailants crowding into the house behind her. “Well … not
everything
. I’ve had some help.”

“Max, don’t talk to her!” Justice says.

A swift kick to the mouth by a black-winged serpent silences him She smirks, her eyes glinting as she holds up a hand. “Your friend needs to learn to be quiet. I can’t have his injuries on my conscious.” She laughs.

“Why are you doing this?” Max’s fists clench.

“I’m not the sharing type.” She shrugs. “I’m a Leanaan Sidhe. It’s my nature to be …
possessive
.” She winks. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, but as you can see, I’m not hiding behind Teine’s friend right now. What was her name again?” She taps her finger on her forehead. “Oh, yes, Dena. Poor Dena wandering the beach all alone. No idea who she was.” Her heels rap the wooden floor as she moves closer. “Oh well. You always liked my true form, anyway.” Her wings flutter. “Do you like these, too?” She giggles, shifting her weight, wings quivering. “I wanted to tell you the truth about me … but, other people got in the way.” She pushes out her bottom lip.

Max’s eyes dart from her to Devon.

“You know I don’t care about him.” She inches forward, whispering. “There’s only you. Always you.”

“Don’t come any closer.” Max’s gaze lifts toward the ceiling.

Gleaming silvery eyes, like freshly minted coins, shine down through the roof’s gutted hole, where hooded cloaks mask the true forms of the beings standing there.

Max’s eyes widen. “You brought them?” Thunder claps overhead with a bellowing boom.

“Sort of.” She grins in a shy way.

Max’s brow furrows, and lightning strikes, illuminating more shadows on the roof top.

“Trying to scare me?” An uneasy chuckle escapes her.

Thunder pelts again. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I’d rather not fight but … if you insist.” She snaps her finger.

Black wings swarm around Max.

Justice frantically tries to lift the framework pinning Tristan’s leg but has no luck.

Max glances toward the serpants circling him, hands opening and closing into fists. A kick to his ribs crunches bone. He follows with a cry of agony as he crumples to the floor.