The Geis: Awakening Part 19

Ansul crouched, spitting fire as he spoke. "If you drop that boy, your people will never even find your ashes."

"But if you strike, you lose the last of your charges. You know what happens then, don't you Ansul? Ansul said nothing, but showed no sign of backing down. Saoirse panted from exertion. "It appears we are at an impa.s.se."

Rourke wondered how long he would teeter on the edge of the cliff wall while Saoirse and the dragon outlasted each other's patience.

The sun had dipped toward the ocean before Saoirse spoke again. She'd settled onto the ground, her arms braced behind her in an effort to hold Rourke over the cliff. He could feel her body shaking from exertion.

"Take the prince," Saoirse said. "But the younger one is mine."

"Wait!" Rourke shouted before Ansul could agree to the compromise. "I'll take his place."

The tentacles loosened, and Rourke could feel the blood rushing back to his legs. "Please, let Conor return and reign in Falias. Let him live, safely and in peace, and I vow to leave this land."

"Seal it. Will you seal it with a geis?" Antic.i.p.ation twisted Saoirse's face, and Rourke's stomach hardened into a painful knot.

Ansul snorted his disagreement. His voice filled the cave. "Conor is years away from acceptable age, and the prince is to be crowned in a few months. The kingdom cannot wait so long for a king."

Saoirse looked out over the ocean, smiling to herself about this change of plans.

Rourke knew that the geis would bind him to this aberration of a woman he thought he knew, and he would have to live out the curse she p.r.o.nounced on him. Worse, he would have to live with the knowledge that she would have influence over Conor in his absence. It wasn't a good choice, but it was the only way he could save both of their lives. He would have to come up with another way to save his kingdom.

Anger and loss burned in Rourke's heart as he thought of his people, leaderless for another seven years while they waited for Conor to come of age. And what would happen when Conor became king?

He thought of Conor, sleeping at the bottom of the ocean, so blissfully unaware of the turmoil going on around him. For a moment Rourke forgot the peril, thinking only of this boy who was like a little brother to him. If Saoirse had anything to do with it, Conor would not know what happened to his uncle-he would believe whatever story she chose to tell him. Rourke had to take that risk. Binding Saoirse with a geis was the only way to keep Conor safe.

"I have to do this, Ansul. You can't protect me from this." He turned to Saoirse, his back to Ansul's volatile breath. "I will seal it with a geis."

Saoirse snapped her amulet from her neck and held it out to him in the palm of her hand.

Ansul drew himself up, fanning his wings until they enclosed the three of them inside. Rourke could see the flames kindling in the dragon's throat, and he knew that Saoirse's magic didn't stand a chance against the ancient beast.

"Call for the Arbitors." Saoirse's words struck his heart like ice, freezing him in the moment that he had chosen for himself. He took his own amulet and placed it atop Saoirse's, then laced his fingers through hers. The gems glowed, heating until he had to resist the urge to pull his hand away.

A full minute pa.s.sed and nothing happened. Then a shrill sound filled the air. It sounded like a gull, screeching across the surf. Another voice joined the shrieking until the air was filled with the abrasive sound.

From out of the mist rose a dark apparition. She hovered in the open air above the sea, her skin a bluish hue in the fading light. Her hair twisted and fell around her as if she were suspended in water. Darkness pooled around her eyes like bruises. Her mouth turned neither up nor down, but remained slightly open, her breath eking from her throat in a raspy whistle. Long, claw-like nails were half-hidden by her cloak. Two more ghostly figures joined the first. They slipped in between the dragon's wings.

Banshees. Rourke shivered. The banshees were wraiths who took it upon themselves to act as intermediaries between those who wished to bind a geis. They were protectors of Tir na nog and cared not for the partic.i.p.ants of the agreement, only for twisted poetic justice.

"Geis be upon you," Saoirse whispered. Her eyes glittered, and saliva pooled at the edges of her mouth. "Be banished to a world of men, where you will dwell until the seventh year. As long as this geis holds, you will never speak through song, and dance will become anguish."

"Agreed." Rourke's voice sounded as if he were already far away. He knew the nature of a geis, and the intricate, dangerous dance required of those who chose to be bound by one. Ancient in its use, the geis had fallen out of practice, but Rourke had learned of the curse in his studies. Counter curses could temper the blow. He needed to make a quick decision.

"Geis be upon you-"

"No!" Saoirse's face paled, and she tried to pull her hand away. The prince tightened his grip.

"You are forbidden from causing any harm to Conor or myself until the day that I return." Rourke knew that until he returned, Conor would be under the protection of the Arbitors. Saoirse would not be able to harm him physically. But he couldn't protect Conor from Saoirse's lies.

She spat in his face, but Rourke did not let go of her hand. Saoirse knew that she was bound by the agreement. Surprise hardened into hatred, and she glared at Rourke through slit eyes. Saoirse gestured to the apparitions, and the three banshees drew closer to seal the geis.

Rourke could feel icy breath on his neck. A sickly-sweet smell, like rotting fruit, filled his nostrils. He shuddered.

As one, the Arbitors threw their hands on top of the clasp formed by Saoirse and Rourke's hands. Saoirse raised her chin. He hoped he had made the right decision-that his words would hold true and protect Conor and his people.

The amulets shuddered and grew so cold they bit into his skin like shards of ice. The Arbitors wailed-their voices combined in the night, a warning of what was to come. Saoirse muttered something that was swallowed up in the keening.

Ansul roared and threw his tail in between two of the banshees. It landed on top of Rourke's hand, and the three of them were fused together in a pinwheel with the Arbitor's sealing power. Ansul muttered in an ancient language long forgotten to men.

Rourke's stomach jittered and twisted. Black fuzz crowded the edges of his vision. Saoirse's face changed as he lost focus, bulging and morphing in the cold blue light that rose from the amulets. He tried to cry out to Ansul, but no sound escaped.

A banshee gripped his arm, digging her fingernails into his skin. She pulled on Rourke, dragging him to the edge of the cliff. Rourke struggled in her grip, fearing the drop. Just before he tumbled over the edge, the banshee jerked his arm and they were falling. Over the face of the cliff they dove-straight down, leveling out right before they hit the waves below. Ocean mist sprayed Rourke's face as they skimmed the water, traveling away from the cliff to where the mountain tapered off to a beach.

Cold air flew past them as the banshee picked up speed, rushing toward a crevice that opened into a cave on the sand. Before the banshee pulled him inside, Rourke looked back. As he faded, the last thing Rourke glimpsed of his land was Conor, high above him on the cliff, safely cradled again in the bubble, sleeping to the lullaby of the oncoming tide.

The music came to me first, a haunting melody that called me back. My vision swam, and when I took in air, my lungs felt like they had expanded twice their usual size. "I'm sorry, I think I blacked out or something."

Rourke sat on the floor with his eyes closed, his arms hung at his sides. The lizard propped him up like a pillow.

Confusion clouded my thoughts, and I tried to remember what I had been doing. Images of Rourke on a cliff and banshees surfaced from the fog in my brain. Everything came back at once, and I remembered the boy trapped in a bubble, the sea witch, and Rourke's banishment. My heart pounded as I sat on the floor next to Rourke.

"What happened?" My small voice echoed in the s.p.a.cious room. Rourke opened his eyes. He looked drained, but the intensity in his expression made me ask, "Did you make me see that?"

His simple nod opened a floodgate of emotions.

What I had seen was a memory-Rourke's memory. The thought made me shiver. How could that vision be Rourke's memory, with a dragon, and a sea witch who turns into an octopus? I was tired and exhilarated at the same time, as if I had mastered a difficult dance routine.

"And that was you-you're the one who was banished?"

Rourke's hands stayed still in his lap. His expression spoke of his hesitation to reveal his past.

Yes.

Strokes of ideas painted a larger picture on canvas in my head.

I broke the silence with my hands, What happened to Conor?

I don't know, Rourke signed. That is my last memory of him. When the time is right, I can attempt to return home.

Where is home?

Far enough away that it ought not even exist. He looked past me, as if seeing something in the mirror behind me that I couldn't. I remembered the terms of the geis Rourke had made with the sea witch in the vision.

Won't you be able to go home when the time has pa.s.sed?

The geis requires it, and the banshees make certain that the binding contract is upheld. But the sea witch has been joined by one of the three who bind the geis and keep it safe. The binding is weakened by her betrayal.

The banshee. I had forgotten that the banshee was involved in all of this.

Cliona. That is the banshee's name in my world. Saoirse employed her to make certain that I never see my land again. Everyone who has been involved with helping me leave this world has been eliminated.

Rourke's eyes darted to where Leah's door stood open. He continued to sign. The music was the only sound in the room. What you learn here today must not be shared with anyone. Do you understand?

I nodded.

I am of the Tuatha De Danann, a race of people descendant from the G.o.ddess Danu. Saoirse banished me here to the world of men with little hope of return, and limited my use of the magic. My people are talented and industrious. They use magic to uplift and renew. Under Saoirse's reign, Conor's life will be forfeit, and my people will fall to pride and ruin. Rourke rocked as he hugged his legs to his chest.

When will the seven years be up? I asked.

The silent moon in November marks seven hundred years since the time I came to this world. I will return when the moon covers her face, less than a month from now.

The new moon. Then something Rourke said jumped to the front of my thoughts. Did you say seven hundred years?

Rourke nodded, his face solemn. The evil queen displaced me here, using the same magic that shifted Conor to the bottom of the sea. Though I reside here, my body is bound to Tir na nog, the land of youth. Time is faster here, and though it has been only seven years since I left my home, I have endured centuries in your world.

Rourke's eyes darted again to where Leah bustled around in her kitchen.

I stood to leave. Rourke didn't make a move. His gaze held me there. There was something else that bothered me.

If the banshee is here to prevent you from leaving, why did she go after Zoey? Emotions gripped my throat, and I was grateful for the advantage of communicating to Rourke with my hands and not my voice.

Cliona is a dangerous creature. Her agenda reaches wider than we know. Rourke stroked the lizard's head. I have a theory, but until I learn more, know that Zoey is being watched over.

I'm not going to just sit around while a banshee is attacking my sister. There must be something that we can do.

Rourke stood. He raised one finger near my face. I have spent centuries hunting this apparition. The best course of action is for you to try to attract as little attention as possible. I nodded. You should go. Rourke dismissed me with his hand.

I walked to the door, then turned back to face Rourke. And the lizard?

Rourke smiled. His name is Ansul.

Living at the Dawsons' home was just what I needed to ease back into life after the fire. Even though Christa was with Derek most of the time, we still stayed up late talking. I could almost believe that I was just sleeping over, not living there until my family could find a new place.

Three long days had pa.s.sed since the fire, and I couldn't believe how generous people were with clothing, housing, or offers to help rebuild. Fundraisers were already in place to help us recover all that we had lost.

Mom and Dad thought it would be best if I went back to school and continued on as normally as possible. I sat through cla.s.ses, trying to concentrate, but images of banshees and shape-shifting sea creatures filled my thoughts. By the end of the third day, I was beside myself. I couldn't wait around fearing that the banshee would attack again.

I sat at the Dawson's table, picking apart a sandwich that I'd thought I was hungry for.

Josh walked in, home from wrestling practice. I must have looked pretty pathetic, because he stopped on his way to the fridge and sat next to me.

"Hey." Josh's face was red from practice. He wore sweatpants over his wrestling singlet, and I tried not to stare at the way his muscles moved as he leaned his forearms on the table. "Is that the hair comb you found at the springs?"

I nodded, pulling the comb from my hair.

A thought flashed into my mind. Zoey had been wearing the comb when Mrs. Saddlebury found her. Was it possible that the banshee was using the comb as a way to track me? The thought was upsetting. No one, not even a banshee, was going to threaten my sister's life and get away with it.

"I'm going to go talk to her." I gripped the comb.

"Who?"

"The woman who burned my house down."

Josh leaned forward. "Do you think that's a good idea? If she set fire to your house for no reason, she could be crazy, not to mention dangerous."

I thought of Rourke's far-out story. The image of him standing on my front porch, holding a soot-covered Zoey while the fire blazed behind him, strengthened my resolve. I couldn't go on with life as usual while the banshee was out there. I wanted to confront her and throw the comb back in her face.

Josh was watching me, his brow wrinkled low over his eyes in worry.

"McKayla. Promise me you won't go looking for this wacko."

He was right of course, but I couldn't promise.

Josh looked from the comb to what must have been resolve reflected in my expression. "Tell you what. I'll go with you. But don't do anything stupid."

"I don't think she will be there." Josh gripped the steering wheel with both hands. I peeled my eyes from the view of the canyon in the Narrows to face him. I'd only been through this end of the valley a few times, and even though the leaves had long since dropped from the trees, the contrast of wet, red willow branches against the gray sky distracted me.

"Maybe not. But I can't sit around waiting for her to come and find me again."

"What does this lady have against you?"

"I honestly don't know. Aunt Avril is investigating that right now." I put my hand over my satchel, satisfied to feel the weight of the steel dagger next to the comb.

Josh's right hand was still wrapped in gauze, and he awkwardly shifted gears.

"How is your hand?" I asked.

"It's still sore, but it will be fine. Have you heard how Zoey is doing?"

"She's good. The doctors treated her arm for a burn, but other than being filthy dirty, she came out of it ok. She doesn't know much about what's going on now, and I'm glad. I don't want her to be scared."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Scared? Does it make you nervous to know that the lady is still out there?"

The thought of the banshees that bound Rourke in a geis flashed into my mind and I shivered. "Yeah, it makes me nervous."

Josh reached behind his seat and handed me his coat.

"Thanks." I pulled it tight around me for warmth. It smelled outdoorsy, like gra.s.s after it rains.

"How is your family coping with everything?" Josh asked.

"They're dealing. It was quite a shock, and I still don't think we fully comprehend the reality of it all."

"What about you? Are you okay?" His eyes looked straight into mine. My heart stuttered.