Otherworld
The unfamiliar sensation of crossing through the veil sizzled through Hawk’s body as he arrived back in Otherworld and faced the Great Guardian. He had to steady himself to maintain his footing.
It was daylight here, but the sun was mild in the middle of the forest. A breeze buffeted his body and he yearned to take to the skies now, to feel the wind beneath his wings.
He had returned to the exact location he had left from, at the center of an ancient transference point. Elvin runes had long ago been carved around the circular platform made of a stone like gray marble, only far stronger, far more enduring.
Normally veils could only be crossed by the Elves during special times through the year, such as the solstice or equinox. But they could also travel through doorways—over ancient bridges or beneath great mounds of earth—none of which led to Silver’s San Francisco.
However, the Great Guardian had made this trip possible with the use of the transference stone which he now stood upon. Only a being with Elvin blood and very strong magic could use the stone to guide another to Otherworlds. It was not frequently used as the Elves preferred to use existing doorways.
Taking Fae across had never been done. Until today.
Summonings were the only alternative to crossing through the veils—unless one was at least part Elvin. Hawk was not.
The Guardian waited patiently for him to fully materialize. As always, she wore a look of serenity on her beautiful features. She stood a few steps away, near a narrow footbridge spanning a small stream.
The sound of running water trickling over stones and the breeze through the ancient trees was almost haunting.
When he fully appeared, he drew his sword, knelt, and laid the weapon at her feet. Like all D’Danann weapons, it was made of the strongest and finest of metals, with no trace of iron—iron that could be deadly to Fae and Elves alike.
The Guardian pressed her fingertips to the top of his head. “Rise, Hawk of the D’Danann.”
He left the sword at her feet and moved several paces away, to look upon her grace and beauty.
The Elvin woman was nearly as tall as he was. Her hair was so blonde it was almost white, and it hung straight and smooth, all the way to her feet. Her pointed ears peeked through strands of her hair and her skin was smooth, perfect. She appeared young, but the wisdom in her blue eyes spoke of knowledge that most likely went back to the dawn of time.
Hawk gave her a respectful bow. “I have done as you bade, Guardian.”
She approached, her steps so fluid it was as if she floated to him, over his sword. When she reached him she rested her slender fingers on his hand. Her scent of leaves and earth surrounded him. “You have served the greater good.” The warmth and power flowing through her voice and touch calmed him.
He glanced toward the forest, in the direction of the Chieftains’ large gathering chamber. It was beyond his sight, but tension corded his muscles again at the fact he had gone without their knowledge. To take such an action was a punishable offense, but Hawk had tremendous faith in and felt such reverence for the Great Guardian.
And after meeting the witch Silver, his heart told him the Guardian was again correct. The D’Danann must help the witches defeat the Fomorii.
But will the witches be strong enough to fight as well?
“The D’Anu are witches of the highest order,” the Guardian said, obviously reading his thoughts. “Direct descendants of the Ancient Druids, they are a race of beings unto their own, perhaps more compatible with beings from Otherworld than typical Earthbound humans. If a D’Anu mates with a human, her child will be either D’Anu or human, not both.”
Hawk turned his gaze back to the ethereal beauty of the Guardian. “I fear the Chieftains will not find it in their hearts to intervene.”
The Guardian simply smiled. “The first time the witch named Silver performs her summoning ceremony, you alone must go. The second time, other Enforcers will cross over.”
He couldn’t help the doubt in his soul. His people were neutrally aligned. They did not interfere unless they believed what was occurring was against the natural order. “What if the Chieftains disagree?”
“I have Seen.” She didn’t so much as raise her brow. “The battle will commence.”
Hawk absently scrubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw. “Will you go to the Chieftains to convince them?”
“You know I cannot.” A flicker of something passed across her features and was gone almost instantly. Annoyance perhaps? Sadness? “The Fae and Elves—it will be long before one will accept the other again. Anger and distrust runs deep and has for countless centuries.”
Hawk gave a slow nod. “I trust your wisdom, Guardian.”
For one moment, he saw Davina’s smile in the Guardian’s eyes and it made his heart ache. His dead wife had been part Elvin and part Fae, making her not wholly accepted by the D’Danann. And for that, he had never forgiven his own people. Because of Davina, Hawk had formed ties with the Elves that the D’Danann hierarchy barely tolerated.
Davina’s mother had been Elvin, her father D’Danann— they had met in the woods when her father was hunting and her mother was walking through the forest searching for herbs. They had fallen in love, and despite the wishes of each race, and the fact that their races had never intermarried, they had handfasted and had conceived a daughter—Davina. She had grown up among the D’Danann, but only Hawk saw true to her heart and had loved her with all of his own.
It was for Shayla, his own daughter, that he insisted on not severing the connection, as well as his own respect for the race of beings. The rivalry between Elves and Fae was unwarranted in Hawk’s eyes, but centuries of animosity were difficult to overcome at best, impossible at worst.
Hawk took a deep breath. He had complete confidence in the Guardian. “I will do as you command.”
“It is not my command.” The Guardian folded her hands together. “It is as I have Seen.”
Without another word, she turned and slowly walked over the small footbridge. Halfway across, she vanished into the Elvin Otherworld.
After retrieving and sheathing his sword, Hawk flew back to his village riding on the wind above the forest, breathing in the clean scents of pine and juniper that he preferred over the polluted air of the place he had visited. After their defeat by the Milesians, the D’Danann were sent to live in Otherworld, no longer Irish gods, but Fae living in their own sidhe.
Countless races of Fae existed in Otherworld, but the D’Danann was the only warrior race among the Fae. While the Sprites, Faeries, Dryads, Pixies, Leprechauns, and other Fae beings were generally slight of build, small, and secretive, the D’Danann were large, powerful, and dominating. They had retained their god forms and their superior fighting ability once they left Ireland, but had been gifted by the goddess Dana with wings, the ability to cloak themselves, and near immortality.
For a moment, Hawk soared above his village, watching the bustling activities as his people went about their daily business.
There were hundreds of D’Danann living in the area surrounding the Otherworld village, a great many of them warriors. However, only a handful were members of the Enforcers sent to several Otherworlds, like Hawk.
The D’Danann hierarchy consisted of lords and ladies of the court, along with the King and Queen of the warrior Fae. However, all followed the counsel of the Chieftains.
Hawk grimaced. Usually.
Life went on for the D’Danann much as it had for time on end. Below him the cobblestone street wound through the crowded village where smoke floated from chimneys carrying the scents of roasted fowl and baked bread.
Wooden carts rolled over the cobblestones, wheels squeaking and rattling. Horses’ hooves rang against stone as they pulled carts filled with hay for animals or vegetables to market. Shops crowded against one another in the close-knit village that was kept sparkling clean by its inhabitants. Unlike the world he had visited this night, there was no garbage littering the streets or walkways, no stench of waste.
A flash of anger sparked within Hawk as he flew past the grand Council Chambers and into the village. His frown deepened as his thoughts turned to the Chieftains. Of late they had become more and more conservative, refusing to involve themselves in wars they believed to be part of the natural order of things.
He gritted his teeth. But the Fomorii—the Chieftains would have to realize it was unnatural to allow the demons to escape from Underworld.
He touched down on the multihued cobblestones and folded his wings away as he approached the toymaker’s shop. He wanted to take home a surprise for his daughter.
Before he could enter the shop, a large palm slapped his back, and Hawk turned to find Garrett behind him, his closest friend and ally.
The two men grabbed one another’s forearms at the elbow in a firm handshake. The D’Danann greeting came from centuries ago when they lived among the Celts.
They released one another and Garrett hitched his shoulder up against the doorway to the toymaker’s shop. Like Hawk he wore all black leather as befitted a D’Danann Enforcer. His blonde hair ruffled in the slight breeze and he wore the same carefree grin as he usually did. “Greetings, brother.” Garrett’s warm brown eyes appraised Hawk. “I have not seen you in the village or the training yards of late.”
Hawk returned his friend’s smile, but his mind was too busy with thoughts of what was sure to be the coming war with the Fomorii. He gave a slight shrug. “I have been occupied.”
Garrett jerked his head toward the alehouse. “By the look on your face, methinks you could use a bottle of ale—or many.”
Hawk gave a single nod. Perhaps he could stop and clear his head—and share his news with his closest friend.
After Hawk purchased a miniature poppet with dark feathered wings and long black hair like his daughter, he carried the cloth bag with him into the darkened alehouse where he met up with Garrett at a table in the corner. He set the bag on the rectangular table and climbed over the bench to sit before his friend. The alehouse smelled of roasted pork, turkey, and fresh baked bread. Hawk’s stomach rumbled.
Garrett had already ordered ale for each of them, along with slices of pulled pork and bread on a metal trencher placed before each of their seats. Hawk picked up the heavy metal mug and took a deep swallow, enjoying the thick malt, honey, and hops taste. When he set the mug down, he slammed it harder than he intended and ale sloshed onto the wood.
After taking a large bite of his pork, Garrett simply looked at Hawk as he chewed. They had been friends for so many centuries that no doubt he could read and interpret Hawk’s every movement, his every expression.
“Remember when we were mere boys?” Hawk said with a half-smile as he picked up a chunk of pork with his fingers and placed it on a thick slice of bread. “We used to play with wooden swords, imagining ourselves to be D’Danann Enforcers.”
“Aye.” Garrett let out a soft chuckle while he sopped his bread in the pork juice. “And you and Keir tried to best each other even in those days.”
At the sound of his rival’s name, Hawk scowled. Keir and Hawk had always tried to surpass the other’s skill level. Theirs was a competition born during their childhood, and carried on as adults.
“He was as much of an ass then as he has been for all the centuries since,” Hawk growled. “I think the only reason he formally opposed my bonding to Davina was that he wanted her for himself, half-blood or no.”
“He only wanted her because you wanted her. It hurt him that your father always favored you, even though he was your father’s bastard, and you a child of your father’s true union.” Garrett shook his head in amusement and then his expression sobered. “Never mind these old battles. Tell me what is on your mind that bothers you so.”
Hawk let out a long sigh. They had been of the D’Danann Enforcers for centuries. They battled in Otherworlds to save various races if the Chieftains responded to the summoning of a particular people. It had been some time since the Chieftains had approved any fighting of that sort.
Hawk gripped the handle of his ale mug, his knuckles whitening from the force he exerted. “We will be going to war against the Fomorii.”
Garrett’s brows shot up and he dropped his piece of bread into his trencher. “I know you cannot be serious.”
“The Great Guardian of the Elves has Seen,” Hawk continued before Garrett could interrupt again. “We will be summoned. Even if the Chieftains do not agree, Enforcers will go, no matter how small the ranks or the consequences.”
Garrett picked up his bread, soaked from juices in his trencher. “You know the Chieftains do not approve of you speaking to the Elves.”
Hawk gave a low rumble. “It is not for them to decide my associations.”
His friend merely shrugged.
While they ate and drank their ale, Hawk explained what the Guardian had shared with him, and his own crossing from Otherworld to warn the D’Anu witch.
When Hawk paused to take a swig of his ale, Garrett said, “It is difficult to believe that the demons could be freed after all this time. It has been centuries since our battle with them.”
Hawk slammed his mug on the table again, almost onto the bag holding his daughter’s poppet. “Somehow Balor, the God of Death, has found a way to convince human warlocks to summon his people.”
Garrett’s expression of disbelief intensified. “If the Guardian is correct, and enough Fomorii escape Underworld, it will not be a war easily won.”
Hawk sucked his breath through his teeth. “No, it will not.”
After finishing one mug of ale, along with all his bread and pork, Hawk grabbed the bag with the doll and left Garrett at the alehouse.
Hawk spread his wings and flew through the forest for a while, dodging trees and bushes, passing by the many creatures of the forest—deer, rabbits, foxes, and other animals.
Otherworld was so different from the modern Earth version. Here the forest was sparkling and clean. Greens were more vivid, blues deeper, reds brighter, and yellows more vibrant.
Sunshine glittered through frilled tree leaves, and other leaves shaped in perfect circles. Sounds echoed in the forest, of birds, the howl of a lone wolf, and wind chimes hanging from the many homes in the trees.
When he had given himself a good workout and cleared his head, he flew to his own home. As soon as he landed on both booted feet and folded away his wings, he heard the flapping of much smaller wings. “Daddy!” sang a small voice from nearby.
Warmth rushed through Hawk when he heard Shayla’s voice. The music of his daughter calling to him was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.
Shayla flew to him, her gleaming blue-black feathers fluttering at her back as she landed. He crouched and held open his arms. His little girl ran up to him and threw herself into his embrace. Gods, she smelled so good. Of wind and wildflowers and the sweetest nectar.
She folded her wings away as she hugged him just as tightly. She drew back and kissed him on the nose. “Breena said it would be a looooong time until you came back. But you didn’t stay away so very much this time. I am so happy you’re home.” Shayla wrapped her little arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest. “I love you, Daddy.”
“And I love you, a leanbh,” he murmured as he squeezed his precious girl. Hawk brought his daughter up with him when he stood and she squealed with laughter as he tossed her up and then hugged her in one arm.
He handed her the cloth bag and she cried out in delight as she withdrew the tiny poppet and caressed her hair and wings. “She’s beautiful.” She looked up at Hawk. “I love her.”
Hawk pinched Shayla’s pert little nose. “And I love you.”
Shayla laughed and didn’t stop talking as he carried her toward their enormous tree home. He met his daughter’s vibrant blue, almond-shaped eyes and they both smiled. A replica of her mother, Shayla was absolutely beautiful with her long blue-black hair, oval face, twin dimples, and the slight point of her ears. She was a mere six years old, and wore bright yellow pants and a yellow top with puffy sleeves.
Hawk stopped in front of the tree and put his hand to the rough bark. A portion of it shimmered, then vanished, revealing a small chamber carved into the wood. He carried Shayla into the tree that smelled of cinnamon and cedar. The wood was intricately carved and polished on the inside.
The transport carried them up into their home. The D’Danann had no need for transport, but most trees had them for wingless guests—a condition of the Dryads, who ruled the trees. When the door opened, Hawk stepped into the great room. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the crescent-shaped room, tree branches waved and leaves danced in a strong breeze. They were too far up to see the forest floor from where he stood. Other homes perched high above the ground in neighboring trees. Catwalks rounded each tree house and bridged one home to another. It was a delicate maze of artistry that blended into the ancient forest.
The scent of cedar and cinnamon was even more prevalent inside his home. Talented craftsmen had carved intricate designs into the walls, some showing D’Danann in flight and some in battle. The wood was well polished, a deep mahogany shade. Curved doorways led to other rooms, and the ceiling arched high above their heads.
The floor was a massive slice of the tree that showed at least a thousand rings radiating from the center. One could only see perhaps a fraction of the rings, and the rest were in the other rooms. Because they were Fae, they lived in harmony with nature, and always the craftsmen asked permission of and bartered with the Dryads before creating a new home.
Shayla had continued chattering like a happy little bird. When she squirmed out of Hawk’s embrace, she darted through a doorway, calling “Breena!” to their housekeeper and Shayla’s caregiver. “Daddy’s home!”
Hawk took in a deep breath as a feeling of loneliness clamped around his heart. This was the place they had moved to after Davina had died.
His smile slipped away. He hadn’t been able to bear living in the home he and his wife had shared together once she had been killed by the snake—or what he had believed to be a snake.
Her death had been his fault.
And he would never forgive himself.