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Earth's Requiem(113)

By:Ann Gimpel


Aislinn felt him summon magic. Bella attempted to fly to his shoulder. It took her two tries. “Ssssh.” Aislinn laid a hand on his arm. “I don’t think he’s a threat for the moment.”

“Why not? What happened? I have to get up. Find my men. Get ye to safety.” His head thrashed from side to side, eyes rolling wildly. He gripped her hand so hard, it hurt.

“Hopefully, the humans are on their way out of here. They were wandering about like zombies, but it didn’t take much to bring them round.” Aislinn hesitated. “Nothing like you. No matter what I did, it wouldn’t penetrate the wall you’d slapped up—or hidden behind.”

She couldn’t stop touching him, even though warning gongs echoed inside her head. All the things she didn’t know mocked her. Had she just been a prophecy substitute when her mother became unavailable? Gwydion had intimated as much. Was it like it was with Dewi? He only wanted her because she was a MacLochlainn? Her head hurt. She was so tired that she could sleep for a hundred years. Maybe it would be okay if I never woke up.

Not here. Got to get myself outside. Now.





She shook her head to force order into her thoughts. I can’t leave until we find everyone.

“Aislinn.” Fionn tapped her arm. “Ye dinna answer me.”

She met his gaze, golden eyes locking onto blue ones. “Sorry. I need food and sleep. And we still need to find Arawn and Bran and their companies.”

“I could take care of that,” Dewi snorted, “but if you are not going to make use of my talents, I may as well go back and entertain myself.”

Aislinn lurched to her feet and walked to the dragon. “That is the best idea you’ve had in a while,” she snarked. “Why don’t you do that?”

“Aye, strong thinking, lass.” Gwydion glared at the dragon. “Be gone.” He shook his staff.

Dewi blew smoke out her nostrils, made a very annoyed-sounding grunt, and vanished.

“Thank fucking God,” Aislinn muttered. “I want to tell Mother goodbye before we hunt down everyone else.”

“Is she gone?” Tara oozed back through the wall. Her gaze shifted from side to side. “Och, I was certain that one was goin’ to follow me. She spent years chasin’ me once I moved to Salt Lake. Had to build wards to keep her out.”

Gwydion’s arms closed around her again. He murmured to her in Gaelic, and she murmured endearments back. Bella cawed stridently. Apparently having recovered somewhat, she flew to them and pecked Tara’s hair.

Fionn stood. He took two strides, snatched the bird in both hands, and chided her. Aislinn didn’t catch all the Gaelic, but the bird was complaining that Tara should have been Fionn’s.

With an arm twined around Tara’s waist, Gwydion turned to face them. “I am going to send her to her rest in the halls of the dead,” he said solemnly. “There is aught here for her. She would bid you farewell.” He gave Tara a gentle shove toward Aislinn.

“Mom, oh Mom.” Aislinn was crying, unable to control the emotions flooding her. “I love you. It’s like losing you all over again.”

Tara pulled her close and held her against her half-decayed body. She crooned in Gaelic like she’d done when Aislinn was small. “Never forget ye are my baby girl. And ’tis proud I am of how ye’ve turned out.” She took Aislinn aside then, whispering low. “Fionn loves you. I see in his eyes what was never there for me. I know ye’ve heard things here today that might make ye doubt him, but doona make that mistake. He is a good man.” She kept an arm around Aislinn as they walked back to Gwydion.

“I am ready,” she said simply, “after one last piece of motherly advice. Watch out for the dragon. She’s on no one’s side but her own.”



Fionn, who’d kept a tight rein on Bella, tipped his chin at Aislinn. “Let’s give them some privacy.”

Aislinn’s throat was so tight that she couldn’t force words past the lump in it. Tears burned just behind her eyes.

She looked at her mother, who smiled at her. “There’s nothing more to say, mo leannán. We will meet again in the Summerlands, the kingdom of the dead.”

Fionn transferred Bella to a shoulder and hooked his arm into hers. “Come,” he said gently. “Where’s Rune?”

“Hunting for Arawn and Bran.” She snuffled, feeling perfectly wretched.

“Why don’t you call him? Maybe we can help.”

Fionn led her away from Gwydion and her mother, keeping hold of her, much as he was doing with the raven. It was as if he knew she’d run back to Tara, given half a chance.