The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt (8 page)

“Are we all together then?” Father Jack asked when Gillian
and Ian came back into the room holding hands.

Ian nodded. “Yes, Father, I’m ready to hear some more.”

The priest sat back and took a deep breath. “Well, now that
you have a background on the Tuatha da Danaan, let me tell you that the plan to
keep the Sidhe underground did not work as well as the Milesians thought it
would. They were not only magical, but also clever, and so they kept up with
their mischief making. Not really going to war, but causing enough trouble to
keep their captors in a state of constant worry. The original residents of the
island still revered the Sidhe. They’d leave them gifts and share their stories
with their children, not only to show reverence but also to warn their children
away from the dangers of interacting with the Sidhe.”

“Dangers?”
Sean asked.

“Well, the Sidhe lived by the rules spelled out in the
truce, but they also knew every loophole,” he explained. “For example, the
truce forbade the Tuatha da Danaan to capture the inhabitants of Ireland and
bring them below ground. However, if a mortal happened to be invited or
persuaded into the depths of
Tír
na
nÓg
and there partook of
a bite of food or a drink of wine, they would be guests, not prisoners. And so
they would remain within the depths for the remainder of their lives.”

“Wait, I’ve heard fables about not drinking or eating
anything a faerie offers you,” Ian said. “Or you will stay in faery forever.”

The priest nodded. “And so it is with most fables or
legends. There is a truth behind them.”

“But I thought these beings, the Sidhe, cared for the
inhabitants of Ireland,” Sean said. “Why would they capture them?”

“Well, it’s our opinion that they cared for the people as
long as there was a symbiotic relationship,” he said. “The Sidhe needed three
things to remain strong.
 
The first was a
group of people to worship them and remember them.”

“Ah, like the old gods of Asgard who knew they would cease
to exist once the people of earth forgot about them,” Ian said.

“Exactly,” the father replied with a nod in Ian’s direction.
“And the second was to provide a fresh gene pool for the Sidhe’s thinning blood
line.
 
They may be immortal beings, but
they needed strong, fresh partners in order to produce healthy offspring.”

Em snorted, and when Sean glanced at her, she quickly turned
away.

“They also needed human emotion,” the priest continued.

“Excuse me?” Sean asked, turning back.

“Somehow they receive energy from human emotion,” he said.
“They feed off our feelings, and the more powerful the feeling, the more energy
it gives them. And whether the emotion was terror or pleasure, they didn’t
care, as long as it was intense. Powerful emotion like that either involved sex
or torture, which is why the inhabitants would warn their children away from
places the Sidhe were known to visit.”

“My grandmother in Ireland used to share stories like these
with us when we’d visit,” Sean said and then he looked over his shoulder once
again. “And she warned us to stay out of the woods.”

Smiling at him, Em moved a little closer. “I’ve never admitted
it before, but this is a day of truth-telling,” she said to him. “Had you not
entered the woods and distracted the beast, I would have been killed. You saved
my life, Sean O’Reilly.”

The little boy that dwelt inside of him wanted to fist-pump
and yell, ‘I knew it!’ But years of working as a cop and years of relying on a
partner overcame the youth, and he nodded. “And you saved mine,” he said. “So
we’re even, I suppose.”

Grinning, she shook her head. “Well, no, as I recall I saved
your life twice,” she said, her mouth splitting into a wider smile. “So,
really, you still owe me a boon.”

He saw the twinkle in her eye before he reacted to the taunt
and he nodded. “Well, let’s see what I can do about that,” he finally replied.
“Now, Father, let’s fast forward a little here because I need to get to Cook
County Hospital.
 
What’s the bottom
line?”

Father Jack looked over at Gillian and nodded. “Gillian, why
don’t you explain what you’ve learned in the past six months,” he said. “That
will make the tale go faster.”

He turned to Sean. “I’m an Irishman,” he said, a note of
apology in his voice. “And I can’t seem to keep a story short for the life of
me.”

Gillian sat on the arm of the chair that Ian occupied. She first
glanced down at her fiancé and then at Sean.
 
“As you know,” she started. “I was researching the Book of Kells, which
was supposedly created in about 6
a.d
.
, and I noticed some discrepancies with the
pages.
 
The creators were supposed to be
scholars, monks who spent all their time creating the illuminations that graced
the pages of the books.
 
But there were
inconsistencies that I’d never seen in other ancient texts.
 
There were pages that were duplicates of each
other. There were sentences with large spaces in them.
 
There were misspellings. It was all quite
odd.”

She took a deep breath, pressed her lips together for a
moment and then began again. “And then I started to concentrate on what most
would consider the mistakes,” she said. “I began looking closer at the
inconsistencies, and I found the Book of Kells actually seemed to have an older
book beneath it, a subtext.
 
The drawings
and the words were covering or, perhaps more accurately, hiding the older text
and drawings.”

“Hiding?”
Ian asked. “Hiding what?”

“An ancient agreement between the Tuatha da Danaan and the
earliest representatives of the church,” she said. “An agreement that allowed
the Tuatha da Danaan aristocracy, otherwise known as the
Seelie
Court, full rights above the ground if they agreed to seal the others, the
Unseelie Court, below.”

“Why would the church want an agreement like that?” Sean
asked.

“Because the aristocracy actually had something to share,”
Gillian explained. “They were the ones who were gifted in medicine and the
sciences.
 
They were the architects and
the astrologers. And, most importantly, they weren’t the soldiers or the
creatures of the fae, and they had the power to seal the others up in
Tír
na
nÓg
.”

“So, what was in the original document?” Ian asked.

“It was the agreement, and it was also a map of
Tír
na
nÓg
and the portals between this world and the other,” she
explained. “If you study the Book of Kells, you can see familiar land masses
hidden in the pages.
 
These portals are
all over the world, placed there before civilization came and built great
cities around them.”

“So, there are portals in Chicago?” Sean asked.

“That’s why we’re here,” Father Jack inserted. “Members of
our Order have been strategically located throughout the world to guard the
portals and to immediately report if there has been a breach in the opening.”

“
Your
Order?” Ian asked.

“The original agreement between the Tuatha da Danaan and the
church was called Brigid’s Cross,” Gillian said. “Saint Brigid was one of the
first patron saints of Ireland.
 
Some
claim she was a great abbess who did wonderful things for the people of
Ireland; although there is also some documentation that she was one of the
ruling
class
of the Tuatha da Danaan, a queen.”

“So, soon after the original document was signed, a holy Order
was created to ensure the pact was obeyed, by both sides,” the priest said. “It
was called The Order of Brigid’s Cross and has been in existence since the
early days of the church in Ireland.”

“But why cover up the agreement?” Ian asked. “Why not just
hide it away?”

“They tried hiding it away,” Gillian said. “It was hidden on
a small island in the Inner Hebrides called Iona. But when the monks fled the
Viking raids in the eighth century, they had to take it with them.
 
Instead of allowing this agreement to be
discovered, which would be a huge setback to a church that had spent centuries
trying to quash the belief in faery
;,
they decided to
cover it up.”

“And how did they feel when a brilliant researcher was able
to see through their cover-up?” Ian asked Gillian.

She smiled. “At first they were a little shocked,” she
admitted. “And then they brought me into the Order.”

“You’re a nun?” Sean exclaimed.

Chuckling, Gillian shook her head. “No, the Order of
Brigid’s Cross is made up of all kinds of different people, from necessity. The
risk is too great for the secret to come out.”

“What risk?” Sean asked. “People are sophisticated enough to
realize that there are all kinds of things out there that we don’t understand.
My sister, Mary, with her gift to see ghosts has been accepted, for the most
part.”

Father Jack sat up in his chair and faced Sean. “And what
would happen if a terrorist organization somehow found the document and was
able to control the power behind the captive Tuatha da Danaan?
 
How would our troops stand against brutal,
immortal magic?”

“The Wild Hunt?”
Sean whispered.
“That’s what this is all about. Someone has figured it out.”

“We’re not sure,” Gillian said. “Em’s been following up on
leads, but they’ve all led to dead ends.”

“Em?”
Sean said, turning in his
seat. “And how do you fit in to all this?
 
Are you one of the
aristocracy
that was allowed
freedom?”

She murmured an angry word that was not in a language Sean
understood, but the tone and inflection made it clear it was not complementary.
“What the pact did not do was protect the inhabitants of Ireland from the
aristocracy the Church so blithely allowed above ground.
 
So, you had the lusty, immoral Sidhe hunting
for virgins to seduce and despoil as part of their sport,” she spat. “And then,
unfortunately, the Church had to get into the damage control business, with all
of the little half-human bastards being born throughout the countryside.”

“Damage control?”
Ian asked.

“Aye, because once a human has lain with a faerie they have
a longing for the faerie that can never be broken,” she said. “Like a drug
addict and their first high, they crave more. But there isn’t more, so they
waste away, longing for something they will never obtain.”

She shrugged. “The mothers of these children were unfit to
raise their children,” she said bitterly, “if they even remembered they gave
birth to them. The female children were taken into St. Brigid’s Orphanage
because we could be taught and trained.”

“The boys?”
Sean asked.

“The boys had too much of their fathers in them,” she
replied. “They were looked after, as much as possible, but most became
mercenaries looking for a good fight to quell the anger in their hearts.”

“So what does that make you?” Sean asked.

She met his eyes, and he saw both anger and pain. “A
bastard,” she said finally. “That’s all I am.”

Sean drove down the streets on the outskirts of downtown
without really paying attention to the scenery; he had too much on his mind.
Faeries.
Really
?
He was a
grown man. How in the world could he believe in faery?
 
In the Tuatha da Danaan?
In
Tír
na
nÓg
?
In
Seelies
and
Unseelies
?

Then his thoughts went back to Em and their first encounter
in Ireland, which he had finally come to
accept
was
real.
 
He thought back to the stand-off
in the Grant Park underground garage and the creature he faced there as
well.
 
And finally, he recalled Jamal’s
frightened testimony of creatures that seemed to have stepped out from the
pages of a book, a book of faery tales.

How could he not at least consider the chance that these
things were possible?

Turning into the parking lot of Cook County Hospital, he
parked in the area reserved for the police and hurried through the ER doorway
to the receptionist. “I’m here to see Jamal Gage, the young man who was brought
in last night,” Sean said, showing the woman behind the bullet-proof glass his
badge.

She turned and typed on her keyboard, watching the monitor
in front of her, and then looked back up at Sean. “Sorry, he was released this
morning,” she said.

“What? He wasn’t supposed to be released until I gave the
okay,” Sean replied. “Who gave the release order?”

She looked back down to the monitor. “Says we got a call
from the First District, and they gave us the go ahead.”

“Who picked him up?” Sean asked.

She shook her head. “Told us to give him bus fare and send
him on his way.”

“What?” Sean exclaimed. “You sent a kid who had just
survived a major gang fight home on a CTA bus?”

“Hey, I thought it was pretty raw, too,” she said, “but you
guys get to call the shots.”

“Who called it in?” he demanded. “I need a name.”

She pushed a few other buttons and shook her head. “We
didn’t get a name,” she said. “Sorry.”

He took a deep breath. It didn’t do any good to get mad at
the receptionist. She was exactly right. She was just following
directions.
 
But when he found the idiot
who had initiated the instructions, he would get mad.
 
Oh, yeah, he would get good and mad.

“You got an address?” he finally asked.

She wrote it down and handed him a slip of paper with the
location of a well-known housing project not too far from his location.
“Thanks,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

“Hey, sure,” she replied, and as he turned away, she stopped
him.
“And Detective?”

He turned. “Yes?”

“Thanks for restoring my faith in the police department,”
she said with a slight smile. “I pretty much wrote you all off this morning
when I sent that little boy on his way.”

He nodded. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

As he walked out of the hospital, he pulled out his cell
phone and called Ian. “You still there with Gillian?” he asked when Ian
answered.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Is there any reason I should be suspicious when the kid
from last night is released without authorization and pretty much set up to be
taken out?” he asked.

He heard Ian relating the information to the group.

“Sean, this is Father Jack,” the priest’s voice boomed
through the phone. “You need to be very careful. The Order has been around for
a long time, and we have people located throughout the city in various
positions of power.
 
But just as in
everything in this world, there is always opposition.
 
There are those who would have the contract
voided and the
Unseelies
released.
 
Not just fae, but mortals with the idea of
using their powers for gain.
 
The other
side has more money, more power and they don’t follow the same rules we follow.
The fae are amoral. But the humans who work with them are evil. There is no
right or wrong. There is only what’s best for them.”

Sean nodded. “Okay, so I should be suspicious.”

“No,” Father Jack replied. “You should be paranoid.”

In a few moments, he was back on the streets driving towards
Jamal’s apartment. The next call he made was to the cell phone of his old partner
from the night before. “Hey, Adrian, it’s Sean,” he said, once the detective
had answered the phone. “I had to swing by Cook County and I thought I’d check
on our boy. I was surprised he was released.
 
Did you get any updates on this?”

“Hey, Sean,” Adrian replied, his voice filled with concern.
“What? He was released…”

The conversation stopped and Sean could hear a murmur of
voices on the other end. Adrian spoke a moment later. “Give me a minute, okay?”
he asked. “I need to go somewhere a little quieter.”

Sean could hear Adrian moving and then he heard a door
close. “Sorry, this is better,” he said. “I’m going to put you on speaker
phone.”

Before Sean could protest, he could hear the phone being
placed on a desk and the echoing audio of the speaker. “So, Sean,” Adrian began,
and Sean noticed that the tenor in Adrian’s voice was slightly altered. “You
were saying you went to see the boy this morning?”

Not knowing who might be in the room with Adrian, Sean
decided to play it safe. “No, man, I had to go by on another case I’m working
on,” he replied easily. “I thought I’d swing in and see how the kid was doing
and found out he was released. Just wanted to be sure you got all you needed.”

“Yeah, I did,” Adrian replied slowly. “But I thought you
gave the hospital orders not to release the kid.”

“Really?”
Sean asked, knowing that
he had, indeed, given the orders. “I thought that you did that. But, no harm no
foul, sounds like the kid is doing fine.”

He could hear muffled sounds, like a pencil being scratched
against a pad of paper.

“Oh, yeah,” Adrian finally said. “I was looking for your
report this morning and I couldn’t find it.”

Sean recalled the unfinished report still sitting on his
laptop and silently breathed a quick sigh of relief. Now that he had this new
information, he was glad he hadn’t uploaded his findings.

“I uploaded it early, like eight,” Sean replied. “Check
again, and if you can’t find it, let me know. Sometimes the wireless in my
building goes haywire.”

Sean rolled his eyes when he heard even more scratching.
Do these people think I was born yesterday?

“So, did the kid tell you anything interesting last night?”
Adrian asked.

“No, not really,” Sean lied. “He was scared shitless, that’s
for sure. Then he started out with these weird stories, but once I calmed him
down, he admitted he’d been cowering in a corner pretty much the whole time it
went down. He’s not going to be able to ID any perp.”

“You sure?”
Adrian asked.

“Yeah, sorry, dude,” Sean replied. “We’re barking up the
wrong tree with this one.”

Adrian didn’t speak for a moment, and Sean could swear
someone pushed the mute button on the phone. “Hey,
Sean,
thanks for your help,” Adrian said. “If I find out anything else, I’ll call
you.”

“That’s okay man,” Sean said. “It looks like this one is
just gang related, and I’ve got enough on my desk. I don’t need to be looking
into cases that are definitely your jurisdiction.”

“Okay, then, well thanks for the help last night,” Adrian
said.

“No problem, call me anytime,” Sean replied easily. “But,
you know, try to avoid the middle of the night.”

Adrian laughed, but Sean could hear a strain in his voice.
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”