Li stared at the parchments about her. The information Aífe gave her did not provide a noticeable pattern of the great puzzle before her. The only solid clue she found confirmed Sédanta had been found in Tuaim Inbhir. The Order, by chance, found him selling honey in the main market place. Yet the stall he used was rented; used every turn or so. No one would say where he came from. Frustration grew in her.
A quick glance to the window confirmed sunset was near. Another day was ending. She needed some air; some time to clear her mind. She knew the right spot. From the coat rack, Li pulled at her vermilion cloak. The spring had been unseasonably cold and the new day air would be sharp as the sun set.
Li wrapped herself in the cloak as she walked down the quiet hallways of the servant’s wing of the castle complex. From the building, Li took the path leading through the main gardens and river. A few people moved about the gardens, enjoying the last light of the day. Some hearty flowers had opened, filling the air with a fresh pungent smell. Li focused on her destination.
The pathway weaved to the left, following the deep gorge the River Tywi swept through. The thick foliage of the conifers obscured the thundering falls before her but did not drown the tumultuous sounds. The path rose toward the Escarpment, to one of the few places one could reach the edge of the gorge. Which many called Cwealmstede or the Place of Death.
A small trail branched from the main way to the edge and an outcropping where one could have an unhampered view of the raging water flowing over the Escarpment. Yet the mists of the falls made the rocks slick and the unpredictable air currents made it treacherous. Only the foolhardy dared to venture out to the outcropping.
Yet Li had no interested in the Cwealmstede, her destination was the junction of the two paths. At the crossing stood a small stone bench she liked. Sitting where not many people passed.
The crashing sounds of water about the area gave her some peace. The ever-present mist kept the air fresh and sharp. Li could sit there and breath deeply to relax. A little time on the bench always cleared her mind and invigorated her spirit.
As the path curved to the junction, Li saw someone sitting on the bench. The tall figure was hooded, wearing a dark, well-worn brown robe. She could not discern the figure but it was slender. Beads from the mist in the air covered the robe. Before she could turn to leave, the figure lifted a slight hand towards her.
“Please. Come and join me.” The voice was soft and melodious. Li recognized the voice to be of a sidhé.
“I do not wish to disturb you.”
The hand pulled back the hood. It revealed a middle-aged sidhé. Long honey-blonde hair flowed past his shoulders. His sharp pale blue eyes focused on Li.
“There is room for two.” A faint, mischievous grin came to his face., sharpening his angular cheek bones. “The day is coming to an end. The air is quite delicious here, at this time. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I like this place when the day starts,” Li said indecisively.
“As the sun sets, a new day begins.” The sidhé waved his hand through the air. “And the mists wash away the old for the new.”
“That was not what I was thinking.”
“Ah! Then you came here to think. Still the mind. Sort the confusion that plagues you.”
“Yes.” Li said, surprised. “How did you know?”
The sidhé laughed. “The serious look on your face. You look as if you have the weight of the world on your young shoulders. Yet you do not know how to shrug it off.”
Li shook her head. “I do not have the weight of the world on my shoulders. My problems are of no consequence to the world.”
Slowly the sidhé brought his long index finger to his thin lips. For a moment, he ran it along them. A quick sparkle came to his eyes. The finger ran down to his chin.
“Ah, my dear, your problems do have a consequence, like every other Chosen here.”
“No, you don’t understand. It is of no import. No one seems to really care.”
“Ah, but someone does.”
“Who?”
The index finger pointed to her. “You.”
“What of it? I am but a chambermaid. A servant.”
“Never dismiss yourself, young one. Each one of us are important threads in the grand weave.”
Li rolled her eyes. “Not that again!”
The sidhé chuckled. “I know. It is an overused image. But let me know of what plagues you. Mayhap you will see the importance of it.”
She moved forward a few steps. “You do not understand. Whether or not I pierce the veils of the mystery before me will not affect anyone. I wonder if really anyone cares. I feel like a peg.”
“And you are not?”
“I don’t know. I feel myself seeing politics. History. It is as if people are using me for their own gain.”
“Why is that?”
“I am an outsider.” Li spat. “The court and the Order wish me to do their work. Keep above it.”
“But is that of import?”
“Of course! Is it right that I am a mere peg in their games?”
“Yet you see this. So you can be above it.” The sidhé paused. “Or could it be you are seeing too much into this?”
“I don’t know.” Li said forlornly. She turned away from the sidhé. “I am lost.”
“Are the games of the court and the Order of import with what you seek?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why is you care so much about this?”
Li spun around. “You don’t understand. They think he was but a raving madman. Yet maybe there is some truth in what he said. But there is so more. I know.”
“But who believes he was a madman?”
“They do.” Li waved her hand toward the castle. “They know of the outbursts. The drool. But they did not spend the time with him. Even the ones who have helped me just see a possibility. They want me to prove the truth.”
“That is the way of truth, my dear.”
“There is the feather!” They just don’t see it.” Li sighed. I believe he spoke a truth which no one sees. It scares me. I do not know what to do.”
The sidhé patted the empty space beside him. “My child, please come and sit. You are about to explode. Let me hear of what scares you.”
Li moved forward but did not sit down. “I don’t know what to say. Maybe I am too simple for all of this.”
“No you are not!” The forceful words made Li jump. The sidhé blue eyes momentarily flashed with anger. “Do not ever think that of yourself!”
“But you do not know me.”
“What of it? Never belittle yourself! Some of the most learned Chosen I have met were not book-wise or clever with words.” The sidhé pointed to the castle. “There are those in the court or the Order down there who are but dotards. Frozen by their knowledge. They know but cannot see. They recite yet cannot think.”
The sidhé tapped his temple with his index finger. “A Chosen is not just this. We are made three fold - mind, body, and spirit. Superiority in one does not make one any better. Or wiser.”
“But you do not understand. I am but a servant. My schooling is standard. I do not have the mind or words to solve this mystery. Even the new information gives me no new direction. I have no idea where to begin.”
“Mayhap you are using your brain too much. What does your heart say?”
Li shrugged. “I know what it is telling me. What I have learnt is telling me the answers are in the past.”
“And how do you achieve that?”
“I’m at an impasse.”
“But the past is never unknown. There are always fragments that lead to the past.”
“I know.” Li sat beside the sidhé. “I have fragments but too many. I cannot see a common thread.”
“It is just you do not see it yet. There must be some points that are constant.”
“Right now, save this person named Dalldav, there is Tuaim Inbhir and the mirror.”
The sidhé stared at her intently. “And why is Tuaim Inbhir of import?”
“Ah, there is where they found him. He was a béocere, a beekeeper there.”
“So he had a regular stall there?”
“No, no,” Li shook her head vigorously. “He did not have a regular stall, he rented one. He only came into town every turn or so.”
“I see. So he is not from the area.”
“Yes. Yet no one knows where he was from.”
“You mean, no one admitted they knew where he came from.”
“All I have is from the druids of the Order. They gained no information from the vendors of the market place. Or about the area.”
“And they wouldn’t,” the sidhé snorted. “I do not see a farmer or artisan providing information to the pompous black robes.”
Li let out a heartily laugh. She liked the sidhé’s attitude. “I agree.”
The sidhé pursed his lip for a moment as he thought. “So he came to the market every turn or so?”
“Yes.”
“And it seems he did not live near Tuaim Inbhir?”
“Yes.”
“So it obvious he lived some distance away. Most likely a few days ride away.”
Li sat, thunderstruck. Why did not I see that before? Why was I so focused on Tuaim Inbhir? The sidhé smiled at her.
“I see I struck a chord.”
“I should have seen that.”
“Some times when one looks to closely, they miss details. Now why should you have seen that?”
“I grew up in Slough. My father was a farmer and fisherman. He would, every turn or so, depending on the season, ride to Dún Delgan to sell his produce or catch in the main market.” Li’s voice rose with excitement. “So those in Tuaim Inbhir might not have known where he lived. They would not ask for it would be of no concern.”
“What does that tell you?”
“He could have lived leagues away from the market place. And there is no way the druids could have gone to every hamlet to find where he lived.”
“But he sold honey.”
Li waved her hand, dismissing the sidhé. “That area is filled with beekeepers. The place is rich with plants like clover and some say the power of Eryri. Beekeepers are as common there as brewmasters around Caer Mór. For all I know, he lived with the sidhé ... ah ... elves in Caer Eryri.”
“My child, do you not see it yet?”
“Pardon?”
“Could this mystery man have left his home for more than a few days? Did your father?”
“No,” Li shook her head. “That is not the way. You do no wish to be far from home.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whenever my father would go to Dún Delgan, he would be away for a short time. The trip there and back was less than two days. And he would be there for a day or so to sell his wares.”
“So would you say that your friend most likely lived a day or so from Tuaim Inbhir?”
Some of the pieces of the puzzle started to fall together. A flush of excitement ran through her which became tempered by reality.
“In the end, that doesn’t really help. A two day ride around Tuaim Inbhir is still a large area. He could have been at Eryri. Or Codhal. Or Islge, to name a few.”
“But it give you a beginning. A foundation.”
“So many have told me.”
“Then listen. And follow your heart.” The sidhé paused. “Then there is the mirror. What is the import of that?”
“It is what drove him mad.”
“I see.” The sidhé nodded his head. “That is what they say but is that true?”
“I don’t know.” Li ran her hand through her damp hair. “No one knows what he saw. And he never spoke of it.”
“Have you gazed in it?”
“Of course not!” Li was shocked at the idea.
“Mayhap you should. From what I have heard, that is what started everything. Seek the source. From there, your journey may be more focused.”
“But that is what they want of me. I feel like I am being manipulated into doing this.”
“A friend of mine once told me that life is like a game of cards. The hand you are dealt comes from the fates. The way you play it is free will.”
“That sounds like something Aífe would say.”
“Sounds like a wise woman.”
“But I don’t know if I can do this.”
“I believe you can.” The sidhé rose.
“I can’t just leave,” Li protested.
“Can’t or won’t?” The sidhé asked softly. “Every journey has risk. Those that are wise know this but do not let it deter them.”
“But this is not a day trip to Cobh. I may be searching for turns.”
“Mayhap. But you will find the answers you are seeking.” A slender hand gently touched Li’s shoulder. “I sense what you seek is not a fool’s errand. In the tendrils of the future, I can see you have a important role to play.”
Li looked up at the sidhé with astonishment and fear. “Me? An important role?”
“Right now, you are a mere servant in the court. But in a few cycles, who knows? Follow your heart. Some choices are not easy. I suppose that is the burden placed on us by the Maker.”
“I don’t ...”
“I believe you can do it.” A faint smile came to the sidhé’s face. “Peace be with you and guide your actions.”
Slowly the sidhé walked away, toward the main garden. Li watched, confused. As he disappeared into the thick foliage, she realized she had never asked his name. She stayed on the stone bench, wrapped in her thoughts.
The fear she felt was familiar yet different. She had anguished for weeks before leaving her home. The unknown scared her, as it did now. If she applied herself, she could stay in Dún Suíbhné, find another position. Stay in the security of the court.
Too much has happened, my child. The whisper seemed to come from the trees about her. Li thought it was Sédanta’s voice. She sighed, knowing the whisper was right. She could not stay in the court with all that had happened. The answers to the questions were elsewhere.
Li slowly returned to her room, deep in thought. There were so many details that had to be organized. Then again, save Skena or Rhiannon, those she had known as friends would not notice or care. It was the court and the druids she had to make sure knew nothing of her plans.
In her room, she hung her mist-dampened cloak on a peg. The best was to be quick about it. Leave with a week. Sever all ties and make it look as if she was starting a new life. She looked about her room, at what she had accumulated since she had arrived in Dún Suíbhné.
So much clutter. Li’s eyes fell on a patch of brown sticking out from under her bed. She recognized the brown robe she had been wearing when Sédanta had died. She had forgotten she threw it off when she returned to her room. It had laid under her bed all that time.
As she pulled it out, Li winced seeing the dried blood on the robe. She started to fold the robe when a metallic ting filled the room. Li looked down to see the silver key without teeth. She still had one of the few keys that unlocked the old king’s room. A room which Cobhthach sealed after his father’s death. With the mirror.
With a shaking hand, Li picked it up. Does it still work? Do I dare? Resolve grew in Li. This was her journey, her quest. She had to take charge. She had to try and see where the fates lead her.
Li glanced at the coach clock, noticing the hour. She would have save passage to the tower; most of the servants would be having supper or had left for the public houses. The wing would be quiet. No one will see me. The key slipped into the folds of her robe.
Cautiously she crept down the silent corridors toward the main castle complex. Near the archway, leading to the tower, she heard two voices. She ducked down a small hallway, waiting for them to walk by.
“Total folly, I say.” The speaker had a deep voice. Li recognized Neb.
“What do you expect?” The second speaker was Buino. “I am surprised he ever had children. Just listen to him. Are you saying he isn’t really a doul?”
Li listened, shocked at the comment. Buino had never spoke that way around her. She pulled back, further long the wall, hugging the wall.
“Ah, Buino, we know how they work. They can still have sex with women. They just don’t like it.”
Buino laughed. “Yes. Just doing they duty for the land.”
“Well, I warned Gadeon off from being one of his personal guards. I think he maybe his type.”
“How would you know that?” An edge came to Buino’s voice.
“What are you suggesting?” The two stopped a few doors from where Li hid.
“Well ... um .. you seem to know what he likes.”
“Look at his personal guards,” Neb said quickly. “They are all the same type. Young. Fit. Short hair. Sharp eyes. Not very muscular.”
“Hum.”
“Didn’t you ever notice that?”
“I never looked.” Buino snapped.
“Then again, who knows for sure? He can force himself on any man he wants. Do you think he would just go after his guards?”
Suddenly Buino guffawed. “No, he most likely would prefer the quiet scribe type.”
The two started to walk again. As they passed Li, she pushed herself up against the wall. Buino’s hands were moving about animatedly.
“Of course the Order had more than enough to offer the King.”
“That would make more sense. Keep it safe. No one in the Order would ever talk. His staff might.” Neb paused. “Oh, speaking of a little fun, what ever happened with that chambermaid?”
“Ah, it didn’t work out.” Buino growled. “Too much work. I thought she was like the rest. Do as you are told. Not too smart. But the cow is too independent. She stood up to Blaí.”
The derisive tone in Buino’s voice ripped into her heart.
“You’re jesting?”
“No.”
“Why is it that they just don’t know their place? It is our world, not theirs. Oh well, what can you do?”
“Move on. She will become an old bitter maid.” Buino paused. “Dice?”
“Sure.”
Their voices continued but Li stopped listening. A thundering filled her ears as tears soaked her eyes. She sagged, numb. What did I see in him?
Anger and pain welled in her. The flame of the wall sconce beside her started to flutter. Her eyes moved to it. There was a pop; the glass oil reservoir cracked. The sound startled her. Fat drops oozed from the crack, dripping to the floor. Li took control of her emotions. What does he know? A ragged chuckle came out of her. It is time to move on.
A glance from the corner showed the corridor was clear. Quickly Li moved on. At the archway, the door to the garden was open. The garden was empty; the stairwell was silent. Li sprinted up the narrow stairs.
At the top was the familiar door. Li stood in front of it, torn with emotion. Part of her did not want to re-enter the room where Sédanta had died. The memories were still sharp. Yet some answers might behind the oak door.
She took a deep breath before reaching for the key. By rote, it moved along the door jam. The incandescent glow of saffron followed the movement. A faint click echoed in the stairwell; the door was open.
Li stood in the doorway, looking into the dark room. She cursed, having forgotten to bring along some flint. She smiled, a thought came to her. With closed eyes, she focused on her three points. In her mind’s eye, the different parts of the room came clear. A welcoming warmth infused her. Crackling and the smell of burning oil filled the air. She opened her eyes, pleased by the light that greeted her.
Yet to her horror, she saw not only lit the wall sconces. The walnut table in front of Sédanta’s divan was engulfed in flames. Frantically, Li ran to the bathing area, pulling out a pitcher. It took three trips before the fire was extinguished. A sharp pain ran through her as she looked at the ruined table that the old King had used for his meals. The faded Aranrhod carpet was now wet with burn holes. It took Li a few moments to collect her thoughts. She had to focus on her purpose.
The room about her was unchanged save the layers of dust. A musty smell pervaded the room. It had been abandoned as the Sédanta had been. Yet in the room was what she looked for. Li glanced about. Where would the King have put it? Her eyes fell on the writing table Sédanta had forsaken as his madness grew.
Without thought, Li started to pull out the many drawers. She found pieces of parchment. Most were curled with age, some faded. One drawer had only a couple of pieces of parchment. Yet it felt heavy in her hand compared to the other drawers. She pulled it out completely.
There was something wrong with the balance. Li turned the drawer about, the parchment fluttered to the floor. The wood bottom looked newer than the drawer. A knock on it brought a hollow sound. Excitement filled Li. After a few moments of play, the false bottom shifted, revealing the mirror.
An ornate silver edge surrounded the reflecting surface. To Li, the silver edging formed interlinking waves flowing around the mirror. She ran her index finger over the silver, expecting it to be delicate yet the workmanship was sturdy. Energy pulsed through her finger.
She turned it over, finding two silver legs tucked inside. Carefully, she pulled on them. They snapped into place. She rested the mirror on the main writing area.
Her eager hazel eyes reflected back as she gazed into the mirror. She focused, commanding it to show her something. The surface stayed unchanged. Li stared at it for a long time, straining.
A cry of frustration filled the room. Li saw nothing but her face. She felt the mirror was mocking her. She wanted to pick it up; throw it against the wall. A deep breath calmed her down.
Follow your heart, echoed in her mind. Mayhap you are using your brain too much. Li straightened from the desk. Nearby there was an Aranrhod chair. She pulled to the desk. She sneezed as dust rose from the chair. I can’t sit on that! A quick trip to the bathing area gave her a damp cloth to clean the chair. It removed enough dust for her to sit down.
Once she was settled, Li closed her eyes. Focusing on what Aífe had called her lár, she tried to draw on the Blood. At first, chaos reigned. It was difficult to stay focused. Li stayed resolute. In time, her mind, body and spirit came into balance.
At first, the ealdorfáh touched her like a light breeze. As the focus grew, energy started to flow into her. The Blood caressed her, sensually touching her being. The sensations excited her; she had never felt like that before. Every fibre of her being stood on end, heightened by the stimulation. Li let out a soft moan. Open your eyes, the ealdorfáh invited.
Slowly Li opened her eyes. A faint cobalt penumbra surrounded her. Her eyes shimmered, reflecting the excitement in her. A ripple like a wave ran across the mirror, distorting her image. More rippled formed, fragmenting her face into a myriad of pieces. The shards slowly faded to a light charcoal.
A flash of orange sunlight from the mirror made Li gasp and jump. It revealed the triple peaks of Eryri. It was as when she saw it from a distance cycles earlier when her family vacationed near the Caer.
The sun was setting. Sharp hues of orange and red painted the few wispy clouds floating in the sky. As the sun touched the tallest peak, the hoary snows of Eryri glowed. Crimson red bled down from the peak, staining the pristine white. It cascaded down the slopes to the verdant green plain of Eryri. As the wave of red hit the grasses, a wave of brown spread across the plain, leaving the plain desolate.
Li blinked. Bright sunlight filled the mirror. The buzzing of bees filled the air. The pungent smell of spring filled her nose. She saw a small cottage. Along the side were rose bushes. Trellises ran up the side with dead ivy. From around the corner came a short woman with long auburn hair. She was wearing a faded blue blouse and black skirt. A glow came from her face; her green eyes radiated joy.
“Maon!”
Li saw Sédanta walking up to the cottage. His hair was a black mane, his face clean of wrinkles. “I’m getting ready to go.”
“It can wait.” Gently the woman touched Sédanta’s face.
“The sun is at zenith, Tarhtyn. It is a day and a half ride to Tuaim Inbhir. If I tarry I will have to leave in the morrow.”
“Just a moment is all I need.” Tarhtyn cocked her head. “It has been confirmed.”
Sédanta stared at Tarhtyn for a moment, confused. Then he broke into a massive grin. “What? You are with child?”
“Yes.” Tarhtyn wrapped her arms around the old King. The image wavered, showing a stone room, bathed in an orange-red glow. A tall man in black Order robes stood at an edge, leading to a massive chasm. The air and magick in the room was oppressive. Patches of sweat forced parts of the robe against the druid’s frame. Slowly, he stretched his arms outwards. His body arched back in agony and ecstasy. The black robe burned off his body, leaving the man naked before the chasm.
Vertigo slammed into Li as she found herself looking down a sheer cliff to the sea. A young man with long brown hair hung over the edge, his hand outstretched. He had the sharp features of the House Suíbhné. A sidhé fell, crashing into the rock face of the cliff like a straw doll.
“Eiryn!” The young man screamed in abject horror.
The image shifted to a large audience room. In the centre was a pedestal. On it laid a tattered beige cloth, coloured with time. Dull brown stains of blood spotted the fabric. A sidhé stood nearby, at an expansive window, looking out to the sea. His long hoary hair flowed about him, against his robe of purest ivory. He looked to the pedestal with hope and fear.
The Dún Suíbhné market place spread out before her, devastated. A massive explosive had ripped through the heart of the commercial hub. Broken stalls and bodies laid strewn about. Li saw the young man entering the fray, dazed. He was jostled by rushing people, bumping into him.
He stopped, hearing a groan. On the ground laid a young lad in a thick pool of blood. What had once been an arm was now a bloody stump. His curly blond hair was blackened by heat and soot. The right side of his face was a mass of bloody flesh. His useful eye looked at the young man. A faint flutter filled the air as a black bird landed near the boy.
“Why?” the lad croaked.
Li stared at a willow-like tree ablaze in flame. By it stood a young sidhé in a tattered brown robe.
“But I saw this, Taliesin.”
Taliesin stood tall by the sidhé. “Brân, I have said this before, one cannot see the future with any certainty.”
“What of Llacheu’s mirror?”
Taliesin sighed. “Be it visions or the mirror, it but shows the most possible future. But one decision can change the threads. If you have not harassed me in Din Sol, and I listened, we would have been here a day later. We would not have come down this path to witness the phoenix tree blossoming. Each one can change the future, no matter what is foretold.”
The sand was heavily clotted with blood and gore. The tall man in Order robes laid on the ground, his life blood profusely pouring from his side. The young Suíbhné man knelt beside him.
“Hold on, Taliesin.” His voice cracked. “You cannot give up now!”
A raven lighted near Taliesin, close to his long black silver hair.
“He is not for you!” The young man shrieked. “I will not allow you to claim him!”
Li let out a scream. The mirror filled with an image of a naked man chained to a stone wall. His body was bruised and bloody. Pieces of flesh hung from different parts of his frame. The metal shackles around his arms and legs were stained with blood and flesh. A grimace of agony was frozen on his youthful face.
“He wasn’t strong enough.”
Li saw herself starting at a sidhé with sallow skin. His blonde hair was sparse, in irregular patches. A feral hunger filled his pale yellow eyes as he greedily looked at her.
“I have grown tired and careless.” The sidhé cocked his head. “I have need for a fresh vessel. I feel stretched and tired.”
“You are a monster.” Li spat.
“Label me if you wish.” The sidhé shrugged. “It is of no consequence. You know not who you are dealing with”
“I do.” Li took a step back. “You are Dalldav.”
The sidhé was surprised. “You are right. I was once Dalldav. But now I am more. Stronger. And you are no match, my child.”
“Don’t underestimate me. I will do my best to stop you.”
“You may be strong of the Blood,” the sidhé laughed, “but you are not match to my skills. I had my eyes on Medyr but he is a mere morsel compared to you. Ah, the fates are so kind.”
“Give me a little time,” Sédanta was sitting at a kitchen table. Li reeled with the sudden change of images. He picked up a steaming mug while Tarhtyn gave him a stern look.
“Gweri is sprouting.” She started to pout. “For the past six turns you promised we would move. He needs to be with more than this little hamlet. We have the gold.”
“I know, I know.” Sédanta said defensively. “I have made inquires. I will be seeing Enid. She spoke of a nice place outside Tuaim Inbhir. We will move there. I just want the best for Medyr.”
“Gweri,” Tarhtyn corrected.
The image melted. Li found herself staring at her own eyes. The mirror was finished. She rose from the chair, shaken by all she had seen. The images were sharp in her mind. The violence seen and implied were raw. And she had seen herself in danger.
“And to die?” Li asked to the empty room. Terror crashed into her mind; paralysing her thoughts. She wrapped her arms around herself, whimpering. She had never felt like this before.
Fegs! Why did I look into that accursed thing? She wanted to reach out and destroy the mirror. The only danger is what you bring with you. The Princess’ voice echoed in her mind. Li pushed the feelings away. Dwelling on them would lead to madness. Her death had only been implied by the sidhé’s threat. Yet it felt so real. Li took a deep breath. She had to focus; digest what she saw.
Save the images for her and Sédanta, she had no idea if she had seen the past, present or the future. The fragments gave her no time.
Li stared at the window, out to the roof tops of the castle complex. The mirror had revealed a name and image. Gweri was alive and in danger as Sédanta had seen. And she had seen his mother. A beginning had been presented. The visceral images gave her a sense of urgency. It was time to leave.
Yet the young man who had Suíbhné features intrigued her. Cobhthach’s sons, Neued and Pryderi were older and did not look like the young man. Could it be Íde’s son? Li pushed away the questions that started grow.
She made her way back to the writing table. Carefully the mirror was placed back into the drawer. Her eyes fell on the parchments that had fallen to floor. She picked them up, looking at the first one.
“My dearest, Tarhtyn,” it started. Li put them down. She remembered Sédanta writing at the desk but had no idea what he was writing. Had he been just writing letters to his wife? In a burst, Li stormed the drawers. Parchment after parchment were addressed to Tarhtyn. A sadness filled Li, looking at what had never been realized.
A thought burst through the sadness. There is still a chance. Carefully, Li collected all the vellum into three piles. She stared at the copious amount of correspondence. There was no way she could carry them inconspicuously to her room. She sat back in the chair, trying to find a solution. When it came to her, Li chuckled. That is so simple.
In the bathing area, under the main sink were a stack of laundry bags; linen sacks she had used every second or third day. One was just right for the parchments on the desk.
Carefully she placed them into the bag. Then the chair was placed back into it’s spot. A quick glance made sure all the drawers were put back into their place. It was time to move on.
As she walked back to the door, Li stopped, horrified to see it was wide open. She had not closed it behind her. A quick glance revealed no one was about. Silence hovered about the stairwell. She turned to close the door, looking to the window Sédanta had fallen from.
“You are not forgotten,” she said softly. The door was closed and locked. Swift glances let Li know she had a clear path back to her room. As she turned the corner of her floor, leading to her room, Li came to a stop. At her door stood Blaí. He rapped on her door.
“I know you are in there!”
Li took a deep breath before stepping forward.
“Shows how much you know. I am not in there.” She announced. The druid’s head snapped to her, his greasy hair chaotically shifting about. Li was shocked to see dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks hollow. He had aged since she had last seen him.
“You! I will speak with you!” The pity she felt for the druid fled. She strode down the corridor.
“What do you want?” She asked sharply.
“Do not use that tone, child!”
Li stopped in front of Blaí, her face close to the druid’s. “I will speak to you as I please. Be quick with your whining. I have important tasks to perform, unlike you.”
For a moment Blaí was taken aback. “Remember your place ...”
“Oh, please, shut that gob of yours.” The forceful words staggered the druid.
“I will not be talked to ...”
“I will talk to you as I wish. You have no more sway here. I am not impressed or in awe of that black robe you wear. Or the emblem you say you espouse.”
Li reached out with her index finger and tapped the gold embroidery of the four leaves. “I know more than you know.”
“You insolent child!” Blaí burst with anger. “I have come to speak to you. To find consensus. Yet now I see that is for naught.”
“And?”
“You thought you have been marginalized. Wait until I am finished. Before I leave for the Isle, I will destroy you.”
Li laughed, startling Blaí. “Do what you want. Within a week, I shall be free of this place. Your whispers will be worthless.”
“So you think!” Blaí hissed.
“You are tiring me,” Li put down the laundry bag. “Out there is Sédanta’s son. A b*****d that could bring down the House Suíbhné. Especially because of Dalldav.”
The druid’s face blanched. “Do not speak that name!”
“Why for ever not? He still lives. And he is here. And the Blood and Stone is poised in Nico.” Li chuckled, seeing the horror in Blaí’s face.
“Go back to the Isle with your dismissals. Bury your head in the sand. I have work to do.”
“You have no idea of what you speak of.” The statement came out plaintively.
“Dalldav lives.” Li snapped. “I have seen him. He lives in a sidhé, waiting for his next host. Who is Sédanta’s son.”
The druid stared at her, dumbfounded. He stepped away from Li. Fear filled his eyes.
“And I plan to stop him.” Li picked up her bag. “I will not let Gweri be his next victim.”
“You are mad!” Blaí sputtered.
“And what if I am?” Again, she pushed her index finger against the emblem. “If that means anything to you, you might stop thinking of yourself. There is more going on than your pathetic wants and worries.”
The court druid sputtered, unable to say what he wanted. Li opened her door. With a burst of energy, Blaí reached out and grabbed her forearm. Anger and revulsion filled Li. Without thought, she drew on the ealdorfáh. Blaí flew across the corridor, smashing against the wall. Silently his eyes grew wide.
“I should not have done that,” Li said softly. Then her tone grew more severe. “Do not stand in my way, druid. Unlike you, some believe what Sédanta said. Some fear the truth of his words. And want to stop what may happen.”
Blaí sagged against the wall, defeat in his eyes. Li went into her room, slamming the door behind her. She had enough of the politics of the court. Let the druid wallow in his delusions and self-pity!
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