Bound In Blue: Book One Of The Sword Of Elements (12 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

The harp was silent, but everyone else had a lot to say.

Boudica was yelling. “It’s a prophesy! Are you telling me you know every prophesy ever made?” That was directed at Taliesin on a rising pitch that sent pain shooting through my head.

Rowan motioned at his wife to stop but his face was worried. “You have to admit it sounds like it could be a prophesy.”

Taliesin ignored them both. “Miko, Binnorie is your charge. Was it a prophesy or has she finally gone mad after all these years?”

Miko hugged the harp to her chest. “She’s not mad. Not yet. It has to be a true prophesy.”

Daley snorted. “Since when has any prophesy ever been ‘true’? You know as well as I do that prophesies are as slippery as nixies.”

Boudica shrugged off her husband’s arm and strode over to me, but I had trouble seeing her past the streaks of acid orange flashing in front of my eyes. “It’s a prophesy and we know who its target is.” Vicious crimson burst into my head. “I say we stop worrying about what the prophesy was about and just get rid of the who.”

“Bo . . .” Rowan admonished.

Pain was coming in waves now, crashing against me so fast I could barely catch my breath. Everything was color; everything inside me and around me. Emotion, power, thought—I could see it all now and it was blinding. A part of me yearned to take the essence of what I perceived into myself. A part of me knew it would burn me from the inside out until my mind was just like the smoldering, stinking hole in the carpet.

“The first Rhiannon rode a pale horse,” Tynan murmured. “Some say she was the goddess of death.”

Daley frowned. “That’s not helpful, Ty.”

“Has anyone noticed how many horses there are where she lives?” Boudica spat.

Peter jumped to his feet. “That’s my home you’re talking about and what have horses got to do with anything anyway?”

Rhiannon, listen to me, we cannot be seen. Hide in the shadows and be still and silent.

The angry voices faded away and I could hear only her. Not Mom—Viviane. My mother was dead. It was a goddess that had left the remnants of her voice in my mind. The tattered mist of her spell slipped away and rage filled me—rage at what she’d done to me, rage at all the things she’d kept from me. Crimson swept through the other colors and overwhelmed them. Drowning in it, I grasped at a thread of bright green winking through the maelstrom.

Peter!

He turned to look at me. Everyone else went silent.

Taliesin took my hand and felt for the pulse in my wrist. “Rowan, call 911.”

Miko stared at me with round eyes. “Where did all the blood come from?”

“What blood?” I asked. At least I tried to before I choked on the viscous mass in my mouth. I was covered in blood. With trembling hands I felt my ears, eyes, and nose; it was everywhere.

“It pours out like the sea.” Boudica murmured.

“Enough!” Taliesin roared and the agony in my head jumped in response. “Rhiannon, can you hear me?”

Of course I can. You could pop an eardrum with that thing.

I nodded.

“Are you in pain?”

I nodded yes again, but it wasn’t the point. I lifted my hands to show him. “It’s not blood,” I said as clearly as I could. “Something inside me broke.”

Taliesin stepped back in surprise. “Hang up the phone,” he barked. The druid muttered some excuse into the receiver and put it down.

Peter took my hand. “I heard you calling me in my mind. What can I do?”

I couldn’t speak. Color was coming faster; streaming out of my mouth and dribbling out of my nose, eyes and ears. Peter grabbed my shoulders as I thrashed backwards in a desperate struggle to breathe.

“RHIANNON!”

The power of the bard’s voice made the color rushing through me tremble and falter. I managed to take a deep breath.

“Can you regain control?”

I shook my head violently.

“Tal,” Rowan said, “if she can’t stop it, it’ll kill her as surely as losing that much blood would.”

Taliesin’s eyes widened, but his voice was calming. “I will have to try to stop it for you. Do you understand what that means?” I nodded again. He never moved, but a blanket of indigo dropped over me. Color dissipated like smoke and I coughed the rest out of my lungs. Miko handed me a tissue and I dabbed at my face—real blood had added itself to the flow.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

With a hiss, Boudica stomped out and Rowan followed her with a murmured apology. Peter let me go, but his hands were trembling.

When Taliesin stood and stumbled, both Tynan and Daley rushed to help, but he waved them away. He leaned against the desk and passed a hand over his face. “I am fine, but it is taking all my strength to bind whatever that was.”

“Should I get Rowan back?” Tynan asked.

The bard sighed wearily. “Later.” He glanced at the bloody tissue in my hand. “Do you know what happened?”

I struggled to find the worlds. “I’m not sure. When the harp screamed, it felt like something inside me broke. I could see everything as color—my thoughts, my feelings, all of you—it was overwhelming.”

“And what you perceive, you are somehow able to manifest in reality.”

“I guess. But there was so much of it. I’m not sure where it was all coming from.”

Taliesin sighed again. “With Rowan’s help, I can contain this for a day, maybe two. You must gain control within that time. You cannot risk another deluge; that was real blood mingled with it.” He shook his head. “I have never experienced magic as a physical entity. It is both fascinating and terrifying.”

The knuckles on Miko’s hands were white as she gripped the harp. “But if it was all just a manifestation of Rhiannon’s power, where did it go?”

Taliesin looked at me. “Did the binding contain it?”

I couldn’t sense anything. “It’s gone, I think.”

Daley’s voice was quiet. “I took care of it.”

Taliesin relaxed and smiled. “Well done, but you had better keep an eye on the sky tonight. Until all the energy disperses, the weather is bound to be unstable. Maybe I will come with you. It might be dangerous, but it is also likely to be spectacular. Rhiannon, I suggest you stay the night. I know who to call to help you and I promise I will release the binding once you are in control.” I hesitated and then nodded. “Good. Tynan can get you something to eat and then you should rest.”

A door slammed followed by the sound of voices. Daley was immediately alert. “That’s Boudica’s patrol returning. I sent them out while you were making your decision about her. What should I tell them?”

Taliesin’s face was grim. “Tell them she is out of the command structure indefinitely.”

“They won’t like it.”

“Then send them home. They may join your patrol or they may go their own way and see if Morgana will take them, but I will not tolerate insubordination—not from Boudica and not from them. Take Peter with you. He has made friends among her group and his presence might have a calming effect on the situation.”

Peter looked at me with concern. “Are you OK now?’

Define OK.

But I nodded and Peter ruffled my hair before following Daley out.

The bard gestured to Tynan. “Take Miss Lynne upstairs and keep her away from the others. I do not think any of us want to deal with more drama tonight.”

I gathered my purse and took the hand Tynan offered to help me up; my legs were still shaking.

Miko put the harp back in its bag. “What do you want me to do?”

Taliesin sat down in his chair and closed his eyes. “Stay with me while I make a call.” She perched on the desk and he swiveled to face the window—Tynan and I were dismissed.

We slipped out the door and down the hallway stretching away from the foyer and Boudica’s patrol. I couldn’t see anyone from my angle behind the central staircase, but I could hear angry voices and Daley’s cool response—they weren’t taking the news of Boudica’s demotion well.

“What will they do?” I whispered

“If they’re smart, they’ll fall in line and join Daley’s group back home. That’s Las Vegas, by the way. Dad wasn’t kidding; he’ll cut them loose.”

“Isn’t he afraid they’ll go join Morgan?” We climbed the second staircase at the back of the house.

“If Dad can’t trust his patrols to follow orders then they’re no use to him. Besides, they’ll do about as much good with Morgan as with us.”

“I thought she was the enemy.”

He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Only if she wakes Arthur. Until then, we basically do the same thing; we keep the monsters in line.”

I bet Daley thinks I’m one of those monsters.

The thought hurt.

We entered the second floor from the opposite end and Tynan took me to the same bedroom as before. As I brushed by him and went in, I was reminded of what happened the last time we were alone. “Have you ever met Morgan?” I asked to distract us both from the thought.

“No. Dad doesn’t like me around when she comes.”

“He meets with her?”

Tynan bent his head and his hair covered his eyes. “Sometimes.”

“Strange.” I sat on the bed and threw my purse on the nightstand.

He sat down at the other end. “Do you feel better now?”

“I think so.”

“That was weird.”

“Yeah.”

Tynan brushed his bangs out of his eyes. “Is there something going on between you and Daley?”

“What do you mean?”

“You two were pretty intense down there. Daley’s my brother. I don’t want to get in the way if you two are into each another.”

I just had a magic harp prophesy I’m gonna do a lot of really bad things and then nearly bled out with magic and he wants to talk about his feelings?

“Nothing’s going on,” I said instead.

“You frightened us,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry.”

Before I could react, Tynan reached out and pulled me against him. Without knowing exactly how it happened, his arms were around me and my head was tucked under his chin. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.” His heart beat thudded next to my ear and I heard the echo of Viviane’s.

Be still and silent.

Tynan’s lips brushed my hair, but I didn’t need my colors to know I didn’t feel the same way he did. When I didn’t respond, his grip loosened and I slipped away, ignoring the hurt on his face.

“I’m going to get cleaned up. And I’m starving. Could we get something to eat?”

Tynan smiled in relief. “I’ll get a bunch of stuff to bring back here and we can make a picnic on the bed and watch TV.”

I stifled a sigh as I realized he had no intention of leaving me alone. “That would be great.”

Tynan was already on his way out the door. “I’ll be right back. See if you can find anything good on.”

I’d stuffed a change of clothes in my purse in case I ended up staying the night. Taking my t-shirt and yoga pants into the bathroom, I started to pull off my shirt and then stopped as something caught my eye. The bracelet had slipped down my wrist and revealed a red burn the same shape as the wheel charm. It didn’t sting anymore when I probed the damaged skin, but it would probably scar. Undoing the clasp, I put the bracelet away in my makeup bag and dabbed some foundation on the red mark.

Twisting my hair into a loose bun, I was just coming out when Tynan returned carrying a tray heaped with food and two bottles of orange soda. For the next half hour, we watched a show about teenage werewolves that Tynan found completely hilarious. When I pretended to fall asleep before the show finished, Tynan turned off the lights and slipped out.

As soon as he was gone, I flipped onto my back in the darkness and stared up at the ceiling, rubbing at the mark the wheel charm had made on my wrist. Lightning illuminated the room, but no thunder followed. Curious, I got out of bed and went to the window.

As my eyes adjusted, I saw flashes of lightning outlining Daley as he stood with his arms raised on the edge of the forest bordering the yard—real lightning, not the kind I saw when I sensed his power. He was alone. As I watched, the bolts came faster and faster until the light was almost continuous. The lightning wasn’t flashing around him, it was striking him.

There was no thunder. Daley was thunder incarnate.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

I held Mom’s hand as we walked towards the iron gates of Windfield Farm. I knew from memory that we would walk through them and down the road to the Larsen’s home. Mom would knock on the door and a boy with messy blond hair would open it. That boy and I would look at one another and know we were going to be friends forever. That would be the beginning of my life as I remembered it; there was nothing else before.

But as we walked, I did something I couldn’t remember doing in real life. I gazed up at the tall, dark-haired woman who held my hand and wondered who this stranger was and where she was taking me.

I woke before dawn and it took a moment before I realized where I was. The dream had left a bad taste in my mouth, but at least my head didn’t hurt as much—the binding seemed to be holding back my headache along with everything else. I couldn’t get back to sleep so I decided to get up.

I crept out of the room and down the stairs. A huge, stone-floored kitchen running along the back third of the house was easy to find. Feeling through the cupboards in the darkness, I found a glass and then squinted at the sudden glow when I opened the fridge.

“Ah, it’s you,
mo leanabh
. I wondered who was scurrying through the house like a little mouse.”

I gasped and nearly dropped the pitcher of juice in my hand. Twin spots of amber ringed with red glittered in the gloom; Thomas Redcap was sitting at the table sipping something from a mug.

“What are you doing here?” I was glad to see him now that my heart was no longer in my throat. Despite disappearing and leaving me with more questions than answers—and probably only because he rescued me from L’Inconnue—his unexpected presence was strangely reassuring. I poured some juice and sat down beside him.

“I was invited. Or at least, I came with someone who was invited: your dear, sweet Auntie Morgan.”

“Why?”

“When your queen calls, you answer.”

“Your queen?”

He shrugged and took a drink. “The closest thing to one this side of the Wall. Due to my slightly more extensive experience dealing with you,
mo leanabh
, I was given the pleasure of accompanying your dear aunt. I thought you would be happy to see a friendly face, under the circumstances.”

“Taliesin called Morgan to help me bring my abilities under control?”

Redcap finished his drink with a satisfied sound. “There’s no one more powerful than Morgan Le Fay.”

“I keep getting told that Taliesin and Morgan are at war and yet they seem pretty cozy.”

Redcap chuckled as he pushed back his chair and stood. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. I’ll be seeing you at a more hospitable hour. Until then . . .” He touched his cap and brushed past me.

“Redcap?” He paused and looked back. “What are you? I mean, what exactly is a ‘redcap’? And don’t tell me it’s someone who likes to wear red baseball caps.”

His face changed. It was strange how young he seemed one moment—as young as Daley—and then almost ancient the next. “What I am is the last of my kind. My ancestors killed for the joy of it and ate the flesh off the bones of their victims to absorb their memories. They dipped their caps in blood to strike fear in the hearts of their enemies. I have never dipped it in blood, but I wear this old cap to remind myself.”

“Remind you of what?”

Redcap stared at me for such a long time that I thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Of what happens when you don’t change with the times,
mo leanabh
. My people are dead, hunted by men of conviction like Taliesin. I survive because I have embraced the world as it is, not as I wish it to be. I learned that lesson the night my mother was killed. She refused to accept that the old world is no more. Both Taliesin and Morgan are in danger of learning that hard lesson the same way.”

He grimaced. “There’s something you should know. Viviane has gone from me, poured out as surely as her ashes were poured out on the water. In all the history of my kind, once gained, no one else has ever eluded us.” He disappeared down the dark hall.

As I returned to my room, I was glad for the heads up about Morgan. I wasn’t sure what I thought about the woman. She was estranged from Mom, but she came to mourn her. She was Taliesin’s enemy, and yet he turned to her for help. She was the villain in most of the stories written about Arthur, and yet according to Taliesin, she was Arthur’s great love.

And she makes some very unfortunate fashion choices.

After a quick shower, I redressed in my slightly rumpled clothes from the day before, but left the charm bracelet in my purse. The house was still quiet so I decided to explore the main floor. I was just about to open the double doors off the foyer when I heard the voices of a man and a woman from behind them.

“I am glad you chose to contact me.”

“You were the obvious choice and I welcomed the excuse. Truthfully though, I did not expect you to arrive so . . . expeditiously.”

“Should I have delayed?”

“No.” Silence and movement. “It has been a long time.”

The woman sighed. “Too long. If only you would relent, we would not need to be parted.”

“Dear one, you know that is not true. However this plays out, we are destined to be parted.”

“If only  . . .”

“If only.”

Silence again and I had enough of a teenager’s imagination to guess what the owners of the voices were doing.

So that’s what Redcap meant by his crack about Taliesin and Morgan.

I backed away from the door and retreated to the study. As I waited for everyone else to get up, I searched for something to pass the time. The bookcase was a bust. The owners of the house were self-help nuts, and while I definitely might need help, none of the books were interesting. One on the desk stood out from the others because of its age and worn condition and I guessed it was Taliesin’s. I couldn’t be any guiltier of invasion of privacy than I already was, so I picked it up and opened it.

It was an art journal filled with drawings, writings, and snippets of poetry. I knew I should probably put it back, but I’d read somewhere on the internet that scholars had been studying the remaining fragments of the works of Taliesin the Welsh warrior-poet for hundreds of years, so why not me? I sat down with the book on my knees.

The poetry was OK, but what held me in place violating my host’s privacy were the beautiful drawings in pencil, ink, and watercolor. Notes in the margin indicated the names of the subjects, but I didn’t need them to recognize Tynan by his hunched shoulders and lock of hair falling over one eye, and Miko by her ponytails and crooked smile. Daley was drawn in black ink with his arms raised to the sky. Beside him was a girl with a river of dark hair falling over her shoulders and a chain around her neck with a gem encased in filigree. The note in the margin said
Daley and Melusine.

I forced myself to turn the page. A fragment of poetry was followed by the sketch of a wolf in fine pencil strokes, its fur ruffled by an unseen wind.

I have fled as a wolf cub.

I have fled as a wolf in the wilderness.

I flipped through the pages. Among the images of those I recognized—Rowan, Boudica, even Mom—one was repeated over and over: Morgan Le Fay.

I came to the last page. On one side was the full-length image of a smiling man dressed in armor. Tall and broad-shouldered, confident and powerful, I didn’t need the dedication at the bottom to tell me it was Arthur. On the other side, another man’s face looked back at me—a face of cruel angles, wintry eyes, and silver hair.

I knew that face.

Underneath the drawing was written:

Cernunnos, Lord of the Grey Lands of Avalon.