Orla pulled her hands back just in time.
“No.”
Goddess, how had it come to this? How could her sister ask her to do the very thing that would betray her husband’s trust? How could she expect Orla to destroy what she’d fought so hard for?
“Orla?” Sorcha looked confused.
But of course Sorcha couldn’t realize. All she knew was that she’d succeeded. She’d accomplished what the Dubhlainn Sidhe claimed was impossible and found the lost Dearann Stone. And now she had the means to reestablish balance in the joint realms of faerie and mortal. And sure, wasn’t Orla here refusing her?
“Ah, goddess,” Orla breathed, torn.
Climbing to her feet, she turned aside.
“What has happened?” Sorcha demanded, pulling the stone close as if to protect it from her own sister. “Faith, they haven’t turned you, have they? Have they so soiled your fairy soul that you would turn away your sister, your own chance at saving the earth?”
Orla hiccuped rather than sob. “Don’t be daft. There’s been no soiling here. Sure, I think you’ve been listening to the taletellers too much. The Dubhlainn Sidhe are faerie the same as we. They simply have a different task, and, faith, don’t I think it’s the harder?”
“And you would side with them?”
Orla turned on her. “I would not betray my husband!”
Immediately Sorcha’s eyes softened. “Ah, no. You’ve gone and fallen in love, too, haven’t you?”
The tears were coursing so fast down Orla’s face, all she could do was nod.
Surprisingly, that raised a wry laugh from Sorcha. “Well, now, we knew our quests would be hard, so. But who knew they’d lead us to the loves of our lives?”
They exchanged another hug of sympathy.
“It doesn’t change anything, though, does it?” Orla said.
Sorcha wiped Orla’s tears away with her fingers. “The trees are still dying. And they will go on dying until balance is restored.”
Orla nodded, her face turned to where her husband slept in the deep darkness by the river. “And when I’m exiled for betraying the Dubhlainn Sidhe, you’ll see that herself takes me back into the clan, will you? I’m afraid the alternative is the Seventh Realm.”
Sorcha shuddered. “Why would they call it betrayal? Sure, they’ve sought the Dearann Stone this age and all.”
Orla drew an uneven breath. “Because we go to war, Sorcha.”
Sorcha stiffened, but Orla wouldn’t allow an objection. “Not with the Tuatha. With the lords of the dark realms, who have begun to breach the borders because of the imbalance.”
“Breach? But the gates are with us in the land of the Tuatha. There’s been no breach.”
Orla smiled grimly. “Ah, well, that’s something else we didn’t know about the Dubhlainn Sidhe.”
So she told her sister of the frontiers and the Coimirceoiri and the need for constant vigilance. And how even that wasn’t enough anymore.
“And they believe that without the Coilin Stone they won’t have the strength and power to triumph,” Orla finished.
Sorcha shook her head. “But if the Coilin Stone stays here, the situation on the borders will worsen.”
“I know. If I were able, I’d ask to lend both stones to the Dubhlainn Sidhe, just until this is cleared up. But by the light of the goddess, I think it would destroy us all even faster.”
Sorcha held her arm. “Then you know what you have to do.”
Orla fought her tears again and looked once more to where her husband slept, dreaming of her.
“I was so happy,” she whispered, as if saying goodbye. For she had the very real fear that was just what she was doing.
“Then let’s get it over with.”
Orla paused for a moment and bent her head. Immediately the Dearann Stone sang to her again, a soft, spring sound that was like rain on her parched soul. It had no power to forgive her what she was about to do, though. So she straightened, and she opened her eyes, and she turned for the great hall.
“It’s in the Treasury,” she said, walking up the lane. “I know there are keys, but I don’t know where. Evidently the Keeper of the Keys is off visiting somewhere.”
“Ah, well,” Sorcha said, sounding a bit uncomfortable. “That’s something else you’ll have to be breaking to the in-laws, I’m afraid.”
Orla stopped in her tracks. “Sure, what’s worse than stealing their great stone?”
And out of her bag, Sorcha pulled a small ring of ornate keys. “Killing the Keeper of the Keys, I’d have to say. At least we found his backups on him before we had to destroy him.”
Orla gaped. “Mab killed the Dubhlainn Sidhe’s Keeper of the Treasury Keys?”
“Ah, well, no.” Now Sorcha looked beyond uncomfortable. “I did.”
Just how many times was she to be surprised this night? Orla wondered. “Because?”
“He was poisoned, I think, so obsessed with getting the Dearann Stone that he threatened to despoil all of faerie before him. He even brought terror to the minds of children.”
Orla was completely stunned. “You saw this?”
Sorcha nodded, her eyes clouded. “He tried to destroy us all. Faith, he almost succeeded with me. It’s sorry I am to bring you the tidings, Orla, for it’s you who must live with the results. But it’s not sorry I am I did it, for he had to be stopped, and by the grace of Danu, I don’t think there was another way.”
Orla couldn’t help it. She grabbed hold of her sister again and just held her for a moment. “It makes marriage to a good man not so much of a punishment in comparison, doesn’t it? For while I’ve inflicted a bit of pain, sure, I haven’t had to take a life.”
Sorcha’s answering laugh was a bit strained. Even so, they continued their walk.
“Where are the guards?” Sorcha asked, as they reached the hall.
“On the borders. Sure, the whole land is on alert for invasion, and the enemy would have to make it a far piece to get here first.”
Although, hadn’t they been close? Even so, she set her mind to searching out any of the guards and came across none. So she settled a dream on the king himself that would prevent him from waking. Which was good, because they would have to walk by him to get to the Treasury.
Orla pulled open the great doors and ushered Sorcha through. Holding up her hand and uttering an incantation, Sorcha lit a light orb and walked in. She made it no more than a few feet.
“Great goddess, what happened here?” she demanded. “Was there a battle already?”
Amused, Orla stepped around her to see the shambles the men had left the place in yet again. “Ah, no,” she said walking on. “It’s after bein’ a bit of after-dinner recreation.”
Sorcha stared at her as if she’d gone mad. “I hate to think I have to leave you here.”
Orla chuckled. Sure, Sorcha wouldn’t have lasted long here. She led her sister on to the back rooms where the food was stored and the plates resupplied, and then beyond, into the royal quarters. They’d just made it into the king’s room when Sorcha faltered to a halt again.
“Holy mother of earth,” Sorcha gasped.
Orla swung around to see her sister bending over the king, her light right over his face. “What are you doing? Sure, he’ll only sleep through so much.”
But Sorcha was grinning like a pixie. “This is their king?” When she got a nod, she grinned even more broadly. “I don’t suppose there’s a myth about him disappearing for a bit quite a long while ago, is there?”
Orla stared hard at her sister. “There was another time of war with the lords of the Seventh Realm. He was among the Coimirceoiri then, and found wandering thoughtless in the Seventh Realm after a battle.”
Sorcha nodded. “And the Dearann Stone went missing about then?”
“Some say it was taken somewhere for safekeeping and the messenger killed.”
“Not killed, I’m thinking. Misplaced for a bit and found wandering in the Seventh Realm.”
It was Orla’s turn to bend close. “You think Cathal lost it himself?”
“Well, I’ll tell you this. He’s the spitting image of my Harry, and isn’t he a direct descendent of the man who brought the stone to the land of mortals.”
It was Orla’s turn to giggle. “Ah, faith, I’m not sure I have the courage to bring him another surprise. Do you really think he could completely forget a turn in another realm?”
Sorcha shrugged. “Sure, who knows? But I know one thing. While he was in the land of mortals, he fair loved the woman he took to wife. I think I’m glad he can’t remember her loss.”
Well, didn’t it just figure, now? But that was a story for another day, Orla decided. Thinking that she might soon have to tell the king one truth too many, she stepped away from him and resumed their mission.
Getting the Coilin Stone was no more difficult than getting into the hall. They used the dead keeper’s keys to let themselves into the crown vault and pulled out the diadem that now held the Coilin. Orla paused for a moment to see the two stones together, complementary forces that powered all of nature. Sure, she couldn’t sing to them, not out loud. But she knelt alongside Sorcha and bowed her head for the joy of the goddess who gave them, and the regeneration the earth could now enjoy at their return.
It was the right thing to do; Orla knew it. Still, she couldn’t help but regret that she had to be the one to do it, for she knew perfectly well how her new clan would react.
And so, with the proper prayer and obeisance, she gently detached the great red Coilin Stone from the wrong crown and replaced it with the gentle, living crystal Dearann Stone, and goddess, if she didn’t know the minute the stone returned to her proper place, for there was a sigh of completion in the universe at it.
“Now get this back where it belongs,” she told Sorcha, handing her the Coilin Stone, “or all our work will have been for nothing.”
Sorcha accepted the burden and turned to go.
“One more thing,” Orla said. “I have a message for our mother. Ask her to mobilize the army and wait at the border between our lands. The Tuatha army is needed here if we are to fight off the abominations of the other realms, but they have to be invited, and I haven’t managed to arrange that yet.”
And now, after what she’d just done, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to. But they had to be ready to respond if called. Or if the enemies breached their border, too.
Sorcha paused to give Orla a long, tight hug, and Orla felt her sister’s tears. “I’ll tell her. And I’ll tell her she should be proud, all right, of the daughter she sent to her enemies. For sure, don’t I think you’re going to rout them all?”
Orla hugged back. “I’ve missed you,” was all she could say.
Still, Sorcha knew. “We’ll meet again when this is a bit past, then. Stay safe till then, mo chroí. I’ll see you next with my infantry armor on. And I’ll bring your archery gear.”
Orla managed a smile. Then, before they were caught, she saw her sister off and returned to the brook, where she woke her husband from his dream and made love to him one more time before inviting him back to their bed.
It was there the king’s men found her the next morning.
“Dress,” Liam said, doing the same himself. “We’ve been summoned before the court.”
“I know,” she said, then braced herself, for her husband deserved the truth before anyone else. “The Coilin Stone has returned to the land of the Tuatha.”
It was as if he literally turned to stone.
All Orla could do was face him. “My sister—”
“No.” Holding up his hand, he held her off. “Dress.”
But she saw the betrayal in his eyes. The despair. She couldn’t bear it.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
He said not another word. He just turned away. She thought she would die there on the spot, but she didn’t. She finished dressing and followed him out the door.
The lanes were filled with fairies making their way toward the great hall. Many of them raised hands in greeting. The women called to her, as they would a friend. Orla didn’t know how she would stand it when they turned from her, one by one, just like her husband.
“Do you know the reason for the summons?” Tullia asked, walking arm-in-arm with her consort, Flann.
Orla couldn’t speak, and Liam wouldn’t. Tullia lifted an eyebrow, but kept her own silence then.
Had it always been so far to the hall? Could she never go there when it wasn’t to face destruction? The morning grew around them, the light going from pearl to ruby to citrine. The flower fairies dipped and danced over the fields, and a thousand birds chittered in the trees. Trees that were brighter and fuller than the day before. The stones were back where they belonged, and the decay had stopped. If they could stop the dark lords, all would return to normal.
Orla ached for things to be normal again, though she knew that, for her, they never would.
The king waited for them, bareheaded. He sat alongside his son at the high table, and Orla saw the fury in him. She didn’t blame him. She knew her punishment was coming, though the knowledge didn’t really touch her. Nothing could be worse than the betrayal in her husband’s eyes.
The hall filled with her neighbors, all muttering over the mystery, the pitch of their voices rising as the king kept his silence.
“Orla, daughter of the Tuatha,” he said, and his voice was terrible in its gentleness.
Orla knew that gentleness. It was her mother’s tone of judgment, and all feared it. Orla rose to her feet and approached the dais. Faith, could she never pass time in this place without it being in front of this table?
“I am here, your grace,” she said with what dignity she could muster. Her hands were cold, and her stomach rolled. She was facing the end of her life here, and she knew it. No one else needed to, though. It was the lesson she’d learned at her mother’s knee.
Liam, I swear I’m sorry.
“Where is the Coilin Stone?” the king asked, not even getting to his feet.
Orla fought an urge to cower. “It has returned to the crown that keeps it, your grace.”
Orla felt a shudder go through the room.
“Where?” And his voice was even quieter.
“In the land of the Tuatha de Dannan.”
She’d expected an uproar. She wasn’t disappointed. Goddess, she should have been used to it by now.
She wasn’t.
“Turn and face your judgment,” the king said.
She turned. She saw the same look of betrayal and outrage on every face in the room. She heard their judgment in the cries and shouts and accusations. She stood tall when one of them spat on her.
“You condemn us to destruction!” Tullia cried, her eyes welling with tears.
“You’re a traitor!”
“Didn’t we know you were the enemy all along?”
Again and again the accusations flew from the people crammed beneath the high ceiling. The words and emotions buffeted her like a hard wind. But it was too late to hurt her. She couldn’t hurt worse than she had seeing her husband turn away from her.
The king must have held up his hand, because the noise stopped. “You have condemned us to defeat at the hands of the dark lords, Orla, daughter of Danu.”
Orla faced him. “I have not.”
He ignored her. “You are the wife of our greatest Protector. You, of all of us, know how perilous is the fight to come. And yet you steal away the god’s gift that could make the difference.”
She said nothing. The king knew full well that another stone rested in his crown. There was no way he could have missed it. She could still feel its sweet song in the marrow of her bones. And the leaves had stopped falling.
“I asked you to make a sacrifice for your people, Liam the Protector,” the king said. “I fear I’ve doomed you to treachery. For am I not thinking your wife has been conspiring?”
“I conspired with no one,” she said, anyway, for she had only one chance to make them understand. After that, it would be too late, and they would go to war without the help they so needed.
“You conspired with your clan,” the king accused.
She faced him. “My clan is the Dubhlainn Sidhe.”
That brought the king to his feet. “Indeed. And is this how you protect your clan?”
“This is how I would try to protect all the world of faerie.”
The hall erupted in derision, but she waited it out. She had no choice, after all.
“You’ve stolen the Coilin Stone!” Culley the butcher yelled.
She spun on the room. “And replaced it with the Dearann Stone!”
There was a stricken silence.
“You lie! No one could find the Dearann Stone!”
“My sister did. Open your heart and feel her, for she is near. She is the power of creation, and she sings with joy at returning home to you.”
Again the silence fell. A few muttered or laughed, but they were shushed by the others. And still her husband said nothing. Orla closed her eyes and prayed for the words that would turn the people. She prayed for forgiveness from her husband, though she knew she would never see it.
Opening her eyes, she faced her accusers. “I can never apologize enough for betraying your trust,” she said, knowing she spoke only to Liam. “If you choose to punish me for my actions, I will accept that punishment gladly.” And would carry the punishment in her heart for the rest of her life, she knew. “But please hear me out before you make your judgment.”
She looked once again to the king, who glared, but then nodded.
“We face war with the dark lords,” she said. “Liam the Protector has said that it will be a close thing. He—all of you—believed that the Coilin Stone would be what makes the difference. And I, too, believe that its power can help us succeed, but only if it rests in its proper place. And I believe the Dearann Stone is also needed. And that it, too, is needed in its proper place, for haven’t we seen the effects of its disappearance? Haven’t we seen how unbalanced our world is when we rely only on the Coilin? The queen of the Tuatha also believes that the only way to repair the distress the earth faces is to set the stones back in their rightful place. Not to take power from the Dubhlainn Sidhe, but to grace them with the correct power. The power the first ones chose for them.”
“We can’t win a war with the power of birth in our crown!” someone yelled.
“Aye, we can,” she said. “If we call on the Tuatha to join us. Not to order us, but to complement us. I agree with the queen. Only together, with both our stones in their rightful places, will we have the force, the will and the perseverence to triumph.”
“What good will they do?” one of the Coimirceoiri demanded. “They’re women!”
Orla actually smiled. “Sure, you have a short memory and all, don’t you? Were there not women in our last battle? Did they not serve well? And think on it. You’ve seen me fight, and you know the skills I’ve taught the women of the Dubhlainn Sidhe. I am only one of an incalculable number from the Tuatha. And along with us we count elven princes and gremlin besiegers. It is time we stood together again, as Lugh and Danu designed us.”
“Why did you change the stones in secrecy?” a voice asked, and her heart skidded.
Liam.
She turned to see his face stoic and cold.
“Why didn’t you tell us what you would do?”
Please, she begged. Believe me.
“Because you would not have let me.”
She held her breath, but he didn’t flinch. He reacted not at all.
“And you assume you know better than a king and his advisers?” the king asked.
Goddess, she didn’t want to turn away from Liam. She wanted him to understand, even if not one other did.
“No,” she said. “I am not wiser. But I’m more familiar with the Coilin Stone. Sure, haven’t I spent my life in its light?”
“And that’s enough to put an entire world at risk?”
Her instinct would have had her scream at him. Are arrogance and fear enough to put the world at risk? She didn’t say it. She couldn’t. Again she prayed for the right words.
She never had the chance to utter them.
“Yes,” a voice came, and it stunned the room to silence.
Orla spun to see her husband rising from his seat.
“Yes,” he said again. “It is enough. She’s right.”