THE MAEBOWN (Weald Fae Journals, Book 4) Read online

  Ronnie turned and stared out the window. “That hateful ingrate.”

  “She needs you more than anyone—she won’t admit that, it’s too hard for her, but I see it in her.”

  Ronnie smiled for the first time. “I know.” He paused and fought again with emotion. “Did you know that Doug wanted to be a doctor? He wanted to devote his life to healing other people.”

  “Yes, I heard the two of you talking in Washington.”

  “I think that’s what I’m going to do, but blood makes me squeamish.”

  Gavin placed his hand on Ronnie’s. “Not any more. I think it would be a nice tribute.”

  * * *

  Ronnie came out of the room thirty minutes later, and just like Gavin said, he lit the room up. Candace seemed to find some normalcy, and I made a point to soak in every minute I had with them. I didn’t deserve either one, but I wasn’t going to let them go, either. I loved my family, and I was head over heels in love with Gavin, but it was Candace and Ronnie who kept my heart from hardening to stone.

  * * *

  Caorann came to me at midnight. She wanted me to meet the elders of the Alfar, the clan from northern Holland, Denmark, and southern Sweden; and the Huldrafolk, from northern Sweden and Norway. The tiny Portune clan, a longtime ally of the Sidhe, represented the Fae of England and Scotland, and they had three new members—the last three Kabouter, including Freya. The names of the clans were starting to become jumbled in my head, so I just started thinking of them simply as the Northern Clans.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Any words of wisdom, you know, like don’t lose it?”

  “You won’t lose it, Maggie. But I do have a few words of wisdom—listen to your intuition.”

  “Tse-xo-be told me that before I left the Weald six weeks ago.”

  “And now you’re Maebown. He’s a very, very wise Fae,” she said.

  Rather than whisk away or fly to Lough Gur, we walked. The green landscape of Ireland turned shades of deep blue and purple under the thumbnail moon and bright, starry night. Caorann cleared our path of obstructions—stone fences, shrubs, even part of an old stone farm building. Our march reminded me of the myths of trooping fairies I’d read about two years ago when I didn’t believe in Fae. Except, of course, she put everything back when we passed. A mile from Lough Gur, I lost count of the number of Fae.

  “How many?” I asked.

  “If they join us, one thousand ninety-three. One sixth of Ozara’s force.”

  “One sixth? But I thought—“

  “Four clans have joined the Alliance—three from the East, the Hulijing, the Dwinde, and the Yokai, and one from just south of here, the Duende in Spain and Portugal.”

  Caorann watched my reaction in the low light. “It was expected.”

  “But I hoped that once word spread about you they would join us?”

  “Word has spread. But Ozara has used me as a catalyst,” she said. “Like I told you before, most of them believe I was responsible for the attacks. That’s why you are so important tonight.”

  SEVEN

  RESISTANCE

  Round two at Lough Gur came, and the Fae were much different than they had been two nights before when the Kobold, Sidhe, and Ohanzee treated each other with suspicion. The Alfar mixed freely with the Sidhe and the Kobold, and the tiny group of Portune seemed most comfortable with the Ohanzee. The stone circle they called the Grange was much more visible in the bluish starlight than it had been under the stormy skies from my first visit. Three Fae stood guard, equally spaced just around the perimeter. Amadahy, in the shape of a fox, kept watch from the trees. She was over a million years old, so I assumed that the other two, whom I didn’t know, were equally powerful. I felt the energy of the Seoladán inside the circle.

  The rest of the Fae were apparently waiting for me to arrive. Nerves and anticipation made my stomach feel light when Caorann said, “Prepare to defend yourself. You will not be hurt, and please, don’t hurt any of them.”

  Crap, I’m going to have to fight in some kind of silly demonstration. And here I thought they wanted to talk.

  No sooner had the words escaped her lips, than two former Seelie Council members, Ostara and Avery, channeled energy. Ostara had returned to the Alfar as an elder when the Seelie disintegrated, and Avery had returned to the Portune, the clan from England and Scotland. They had eighteen million years between them—my stomach folded and I felt light headed.

  Avery turned to Naeshura and moved to my left so fast it made my head spin. She moved to the right in physical shape, channeling Quint. I let my instincts take over. I cloaked and rode a cushion of air to the edge of the lake, behind Ostara. Before she sensed me, I wrestled for control of the Fire element of her Quint. It flickered into a ball of deep amber Earth energy. She spun to face me, smiling.

  Avery moved toward me. For the first time, I felt the transition as a Fae turned from Naeshura into physical form—it happened faster than my eyes could comprehend, but I sensed each molecule of energy become solid and quickly shift and arrange into a human shape. The instant he was physical, his connection to the elements snapped into existence and he created Quint. Engrossed by understanding the transformation, I didn’t consciously react when he forced a rope of Quint toward me—but subconsciously or instinctively, a part of my mind reacted. Avery wasn’t as powerful as Ostara—his connection wasn’t as strong and the substance was weaker. How I knew that, I didn’t know, but I could feel it. When I gained control of the orange energy and froze it between us, Ostara attacked with Quint again. My heart raced when they worked together and pressed against me. I pushed the two orbs of glowing orange energy together into a sizzling ball, and then removed the Fire element.

  “She is playing with you,” Dana said under her breath.

  Ostara’s smile disappeared. The intensity of her attacks immediately increased, and with each one I stripped the Fire element, leaving nothing but the pure essence of Earth. Volimar joined them, trying to get to me with Quint. From three sides I continued to dismantle the Quint, but only from half the distance. When Dana added Plasma it became harder to concentrate. Unlike my battle with Dersha before I knew Aether, I didn’t have to use energy to shield myself until Dana attacked with Air. The raw power was amazing, but I strengthened the Clóca barrier around myself and kept her off of me. My control over the Fire element weakened and their Quint reformed. A few feet away from my barrier, I tore it apart once again. My heart raced.

  “Can she create Aether or not?” snapped one of the Alfar.

  Carefully, so not to hurt him, I formed a ball of Aether a few feet from him. It cast green light on his shocked features before I let it dissipate into the pure white light of Lithrel. When it would no longer hurt him, I pushed the white light across him and then let it go out.

  He nodded, “I guess that is a yes.”

  Before Dana, Volimar, Avery or Ostara could move, I showered them in the harmless light of Lithrel. Each dropped their connection to the elements and the field went quiet.

  Caorann appeared a few feet from my Clóca shield. “You can come out now, Maggie. Are you satisfied?”

  With long black hair flowing down her back and piercing green eyes, Ostara approached me offering her hand. “That may have seemed like a waste of time, Maggie, but most of my clan do not know you as I do.”

  Her words struck me as a little odd, since she’d never spoken directly to me. She had been a member of the Seelie Council the entire time I went through the trials, and later, when I saved Mitch. I shivered when our hands met.

  She created a fire a few feet away. It blazed, sending glowing sparks into the dark sky. Her eyes seemed even more intense reflected in the flames. As though she was showing me what to do, she held her long fingers out over the heat. The simple act of responding to my physical needs made me feel more comfortable with her.

  Avery was more of a mystery to me. He was a member of the Council too, but I couldn’t recall him ever speaking during a meet
ing. Dressed like a human in faded jeans and a buttoned black shirt that hugged the muscles in his chest, he strolled over to me. He didn’t look directly at me, fixing his brown eyes on the fire instead. Strands of shoulder length dark blond hair hung over his angular face, obscuring his smooth forehead.

  “Your control is impressive,” he said.

  “It will get better. I’ve only been a Maebown for four days.”

  A slight smile spread across his face, but he didn’t look at me. “Four days? Impressive.”

  “Avery,” Bastien said, joining us by the fire. “Are you convinced?”

  He nodded, glancing up at Bastien. “We stand with you.”

  Great, that’s another twenty Fae. Now to find a thousand more.

  “And the Alfar?” Bastien asked.

  A dark, brooding Fae grumbled from the other side of the fire. “Fall with you or die alone, I do not see much of a choice.”

  “Porthus, really, you are far too sour for your own good. We may prevail,” Ostara said.

  His face twisted into a scowl. “Yes, and Ozara may disband the Alliance.”

  Ostara ignored Porthus, who I guessed was an Alfar elder. “Yes, Bastien, we stand with you,” she said.

  “That is good news. It will help to convince the Olympians.”

  “Olympians?” Porthus moaned. “Dana is letting them come here?”

  “Not all of them, just Zeus,” Dana said.

  “Ack,” Porthus winced, “he is the worst one.”

  “We need their strength. I would rather have the Olympians as allies than add them to our growing list of enemies,” Ostara said.

  Porthus shook his head, twisting his face like he had a mouth full of sand. “But at what cost? Do we take any clan into our ranks? I know I am late to the party but, pray tell, who else are you inviting to the table?”

  “Yes,” Caorann said. “We will take any clan that stands with us.”

  Porthus bellowed in laughter. “Humans have a proverb—a chain is only as strong as the weakest link.”

  In a deep rumbling voice, Tse-xo-be said, “That is true of the Alliance as well, and it is that which we must exploit. As great as our differences may be, we are all here of our own accord. Ozara shackles her allies—she uses coercion to bind them. If we meet her with enough force, there are many who will defect.”

  Porthus raised his index finger and pointed at Tse-xo-be. “You have made that point already, and I do not entirely disagree, but what happens if we succeed?” He shifted his eyes to stare at each of the two-dozen Fae who’d joined us at the fire. “Assuming we defeat Ozara, what do you intend to do about them?” he said, pointing at me.

  Silence.

  “Your silence is telling. You must have a plan—we don’t do anything without a plan, do we? Tell us, we deserve to know.”

  “There is no consensus, Porthus. As you can imagine, there is considerable disagreement—”

  “Disagreement? Do tell me all about your disagreement. I imagine the discord is over what form the new Council will take?”

  “There are no plans for a new Council, at least none to which I am privy.” Tse-xo-be said.

  “But surely there are?” Porthus boomed. “With so many former Seelie amongst us, there is undoubtedly a plan to reform some semblance of the old order—to recapture the glory as it were.”

  “I have no such plans,” Ostara snapped. “I did not realize that your feelings were so deeply bruised by my presence, brother.”

  Porthus laughed and locked eyes with her. “If my feelings were bruised at all, sister, I would not have allowed you to rejoin the Alfar.”

  After a wicked laugh of her own, she narrowed her eyes and cooed at Porthus like she was talking to an infant. “As if you could have prevented my return to my clan. Do not trifle with me, Porthus, I was Alfar four million years before you formed your first thought.”

  “This is precisely why I have avoided each of you—the incessant bickering fatigues me. I don’t recall the last time I spent company with my own kind when it was any other way. If you must know, we have not had a discussion about what follows. Until the remaining partners have been identified, and their representatives brought here, that conversation is premature,” Bastien said.

  “But you do mean to protect the humans, don’t you?” Porthus said.

  Bastien smiled. “I am not tainted by the bigotry that affects so many of our kind, nor do I labor under the delusion that Faekind is in any fashion inherently superior to Humankind. We are but two species, two out of the many millions that inhabit this world. Your question is self-righteous and presumptuous.”

  “It is neither,” Porthus protested.

  “It is both,” Bastien said with a booming voice. “It is presumptuous because you assume any species has the right to determine the existence of another, and it is self-righteous because you clearly believe that we have that authority.”

  “Your words are difficult to digest—undoubtedly colored by centuries of imitating them. In every metric we are superior. Bastien, you yourself are the best evidence of that superiority. You are the oldest living being on this planet. Your powers, your intellect, your wisdom exceed the sum of humanity’s.”

  “It is curious that you speak of my wisdom at a time when you remain completely oblivious to it being offered. There is a human not fifteen feet from you who has more power than I do. She achieved that feat in eighteen years. Do you not find that remarkable? I do.”

  “She was taught.”

  “Porthus,” Caorann said, shaking her index finger at him, like adult scolding a child. “You were taught the nuances of Fire—my memories of your education are quite vivid. Unlike you, Maggie O’Shea discovered the secret to Aether on her own—I did finish her education, that’s true, but she would have learned on her own—two hundred years faster than I learned.”

  “That is remarkable, I will admit,” he said. “But she is an exception, you cannot deny that. In my eight million, two hundred and sixteen years, I have never harmed a physical being of any kind. I do not advocate that we take part in their extinction, and would not participate myself—I merely want to know if you or Caorann intend for more of us to die attempting to prevent it.”

  “During our two darkest times as a species, it was human intervention that prevented calamity. I would argue that the Alfar exist today only because of human intervention. Maggie is prepared to sacrifice herself to defend us all, just as both prior Maebowns did. Is it not a wise decision to preserve that which has saved you?”

  Porthus growled and crossed his arms. “Is that true,” he said, staring at me. “Are you prepared to sacrifice yourself for us?”

  “I don’t plan on dying, but if that is what it takes to save my family and my friends—human and Fae—then the answer is yes.”

  “Will you kill Fae?” he asked.

  “I’ll do whatever I need to do to eliminate the threat.”

  * * *

  I have to admit, I was fascinated with Zeus. He elicited strong reactions from the other clans the moment he appeared at the Seoladán. Half the Fae seemed fascinated, and stared with adoring eyes. The other half were equally reviled. Only the other elders seemed comfortable. I expected him to have a head full of flowing silvery-white hair, a beard, and strut around in a toga. Tall, brunette, and olive-skinned, he looked like a thirty-year-old fitness model in linen slacks and a flowing white shirt. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he was Gavin’s older brother.

  Zeus and Tse-xo-be embraced one another’s elbows in what I was beginning to believe was a traditional greeting. The process repeated as Bastien, Caorann, and Sinopa greeted him. Zeus turned his honey brown eyes toward me and smiled.

  “Gavin, I am pleased to see you have survived Ozara’s addle-minded attempt to bring about your end.”

  Gavin’s lips broadened and spread into a full smile. My skin tingled. “Brother, I’m pleased that you haven’t succumb to her demands for allegiance.”

  “Olympus be
damned if I ever bow to a water sprite,” Zeus bellowed.

  “Speaking of water sprites, how is Poseidon?”

  “Bleh,” Zeus moaned. “He mourns Atlantis and yearns for Pandora—how do you think he is?”

  “Miserable, eh?”

  “Miserable? If only. He is far worse. He is pathetic—and making the rest of us miserable.”

  Gavin laughed.

  Zeus smiled and pulled Gavin to his chest, embracing him like a father does a son. Tears filled the corners of his eyes when he stepped back. “Gavin, it is good to see you again. You know your place is with us at Olympus. You should have returned the moment that temperamental fairy banished you.”

  “She would have destroyed you and Olympus if I’d returned.”

  “Perhaps, and that is the reason I am here. It is time to be rid of Ozara.”

  “Does that mean you are going to join us?”

  “I intend to make that decision in due time, but for now, I am keeping an open mind.”

  Gavin exhaled. I didn’t know what Zeus’s reply meant, but it didn’t seem to be the one Gavin hoped for.

  Zeus smiled at Gavin. “Gavin, do not lament. The Olympians will stand with any Fae who oppose tyranny—as long as we have assurances that one tyrant will not be replaced by another.”

  “What assurances are you seeking?” Bastien asked, walking up behind us with Caorann.

  “You already know—our requirements have not changed in seven thousand years.”

  Bastien shook his head. “Zeus, you know that complete autonomy is not possible for any clan, not anymore. It would only pave for the next tyrant a path to power. Future stability, if we are to have stability, requires mutual cooperation, and that requires some sacrifices.”

  “Via oversight and edicts, I expect? Not tolerable.”

  “Nothing so draconian as the Seelie, my brother. We must find balance between ensuring our liberty and protecting it.”