“And you didn’t want your children, or the beast you so love and cherish? Or maybe you’d like to rewind and try it again?” she asked, but her coldness had been replaced with curiosity. “Pain is often needed to obtain the place one needs to be. Had you not been through it, Faery would die.”
“No, I don’t mind that part. It’s the other things that are bothering me,” I said. “I’m wondering why you’ve been interfering and why you’re here now. Haven’t I been through enough? If it’s your intention to break me, fine. You win. You can have me, but not my daughter. She hasn’t done anything yet. She deserves a fighting chance.”
“You think I’ve put you through this just to watch you fail?” she asked and then exhaled. “Danu needed help, but she’s about as stubborn as they come. She refused to ask for help even though she desperately needed it. I knew about you from the moment of your birth, even though she did her best to hide you from us. I watched you grow into a fighter, and I guessed at her plans for you. I am not an idiot, and I can foresee the future in a different way than your mother does. I saw that you’d love him,” she said glancing at Ryder. “I knew that without a few pushes, you’d never get to him. I also knew the apple wouldn’t have fallen far from the Tree, and that you’d be a lot like your mother, stubborn as hell, so to say. So I pushed the Humans to send you to him, and then I pushed more. I also know the rules of my people, and you didn’t. I pushed the beast that day, the one when you became pregnant. The facts were pretty simple. If you were still Fae when you’d conceived children with him, then upon your rebirth, you could live here, with him. Our people don’t allow us to remain with mortals, or…” She looked at Ryder for a moment. “…Whatever he is. You’d have had to leave your babies and him behind and you’d have gone into a century of silence. That’s what we do in rebirth, but I made sure you’d be spared from that. I can’t change your destiny, but I can alter it so that it’s worth it. As Danu is tied against physically intervening, I am tied against telling you the future of your destiny, Synthia.”
“You did this,” I whispered. “You made it so I could stay with him, and yet I could lose the children you ensured I was pregnant with. Haven’t I done enough? I’ve done everything you asked of me and I’ve accepted everything you’ve thrown in my face. I won’t lose my daughter, so if you have any helpful pushes, push me,” I demanded.
“You’ve been shown all you need to know; it’s up to you now. Your children will have their own destiny, but I wasn’t actually here for yours. I’m here for someone else.”
“Who?” I asked, as I felt another wave of pain.
“I won’t tell you that, but what I will tell you; is that your time of pain is almost over. You’ve secured your destiny, and you’ve almost made it. You’re a fierce warrior, one I am glad to call my niece, as I am Danu’s half-sister. I’ve blessed your children, and bought you a little extra time as well. Be well, and Synthia, be humble in the presence of the Tree, for everything in Faery depends on it.”
I turned around to find both Ristan and Ryder watching me closely. “What the hell was that?” Ryder asked.
“What did you see?” I asked and watched as Ryder turned to Ristan and looked back at me.
“Blinding light, and you talking to the chair,” he admitted as he rubbed his neck.
“I just met Destiny, and she’s my aunt,” I admitted. “Someone in this room is about to go through utter hell, or so I think,” I said. “She wasn’t here for us; she’s been helping Danu. I guess I passed destiny’s test, but it’s not over yet.”