Earth's Requiem(84)

Fionn pulled her toward the stairs. “Guard your eyes, lass. His spells can get extremely bright.”

She waited, peering through spread fingers, but nothing happened.

“What manner of being made this?” Gwydion asked, sounding curious.

“Why, I suppose she was human.” Aislinn dropped her hands to her sides.

“Nay. Not possible.” Gwydion turned to face them. “Magic spreads from the two lying here to the rest of the house and beyond—far beyond. I do not think the house is illusion, yet I wonder what will happen to it—and whatever is linked to it—if I break the enchantment. I need to know more before I charge in, else I could rupture something that canna be fixed.” He hesitated for a beat. “I wouldna be quite so cautious but for the link to Taltos that we already know is here.”

Fionn stepped away from her. “Let me help. We can explore it further.”

The Celts raised their hands and chanted. Aislinn watched intently. Magic fascinated her. It always had, even when she’d thought it the purview of fairy tales. The crypts became clearer as the mists shrouding them moved aside. Made of shiny stone that looked like beige marble, they glowed warm against the dark of the attic. She repositioned herself so she could see beyond Fionn and Gwydion. The bodies lying in the crypts were amazingly well preserved. They didn’t look dead. The faces were pink, the flesh full. What had Marta done? Were her parents sorcerers? Had they cooperated, or been duped?

Gwydion’s staff blazed with blue light that made her eyes ache. Fionn moved to the far side of the crypts, hands extended, chanting in the odd language Gwydion had used before.

The woman sat up and tossed a leg over the side of her crypt. Gray hair cascaded over her shoulders. She shook her head, as if she’d been asleep. Brown eyes fluttered open. She gazed from Fionn to Gwydion. “I am guardian of the gate,” she pronounced. “How dare you disturb me?” A second leg followed the first.

From the expression on Fionn’s face, it looked like he’d commanded her to stay put, but his magic wasn’t doing the trick. The woman was pushing right through it.

Fionn shouted for Arawn and Bran. Footsteps pounded on the attic stairs. They raced to Fionn’s side, apparently strengthening his binding.

The woman tried to get the rest of the way out of her crypt, but this time, she couldn’t move. Her lips drew back into a snarl. “I tell you, I hold the gates. Destroy me at your peril.” A crafty look crossed her face. “I can do just as good a job with the gates if I’m awake.”



Her gaze drifted about the room. “Where is that daughter of mine? Last I remember, she got Dad and me good and drunk on something.” She reached for Fionn’s leg, almost grabbing a handful of fabric before he sidestepped out of her way. “So long as I’m up, boys, how about a little fun? You’re a likely looking bunch, and I’ve been asleep for ages.” She tried for a come-hither look, but all she managed to do was look like a whore well past her prime.

Fionn and Bran grimaced.

The man in the other crypt stirred and made a low moaning sound. “Who dares disturb me?” emerged from his half-open mouth as a breathy sigh, words slurry. His voice sounded rusty. It must have surprised him, because his eyes popped open. They were the same muddy brown as the woman’s.

Gwydion’s hands sketched something in the air. Aislinn saw the protections around the two resurrecting themselves.

“Aye, good idea,” Arawn muttered, adding layers to the enchantment as he shoved the woman back into her crypt.

“You’re putting them back to sleep,” Aislinn gasped. “Why? I thought the whole point was to see what they know.”

“Hush,” Fionn said. “We’ll explain later.”

Because she didn’t see the point in watching four magicians work on a binding she’d done her damnedest to unravel, Aislinn went back down the stairs.

“Did they free them?” Rune asked.

“Yes and no.” Aislinn poured more mead and settled in to wait.

It didn’t take long before the men returned, but when she got to her feet, she was decidedly tipsy. It felt good. “Well?” she said, hands on her hips. Then she looked at Rune. “Maybe you might not want to listen to this.”

“She was my bond mate. I have a right.”

“Aye, that he does.” Gwydion pulled out a chair and sat heavily. “They truly are guardians. They hold the pathways open between this world and many others. If we destroy them, there willna be a way to return the dark gods to their realms.”

“Or to oust the remainder of the Lemurians,” Bran added. “Thank Christ ye dinna destroy the binding, lass.” He tugged out a chair for himself and gestured for everyone to sit.