Read Blue Keltic Moon (Children of the Keltic Triad) Online
Authors: *lizzie starr
Tags: #fantasy romance, #fantasy, #Faerie, #parallel worlds, #romance
Blue Keltic Moon (Children of the Keltic Triad)
Blue Keltic Moon
Children of the Keltic Triad
*lizzie starr
Copyright © 2009, 2014 by Elizabeth Struble
This re-release has had minor corrections from the original edition.
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
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Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Book Layout © 2014 BookDesignTemplates.com
Cover Design by JinGraphix
Authors cherish their fans.
And so, my darlin’s,
This tale is for each and every one of you!
Sparkles!
“Y
ield.”
“Never.” With the clang and ring of faerie steel against faerie steel her opponent’s sword slipped the length of hers and he twisted away. “Ha.”
Silent, Breanna advanced, the tip of her weapon swaying slightly, a slow, mesmerizing dance meant to lull an opponent into complacency. A seasoned fighter would hold the tip steady, ready for a thrust, slice or defense. This was a new trick Granda recently taught her. One she hoped hadn’t been passed on to her opponent as well.
He took a backward step then stood his ground. Eyes calm, he watched her advance, his own sword gripped lightly but steady in his hand. She allowed herself a half smile and his eyes narrowed with confusion though he remained still.
Lunge. Parry. Slice. Sounds of battle filled the glade quieting the birdsong. The metal clangs echoed off the ancient trees, and dropped heavily from the overhanging branches.
“You
will
yield.”
He danced away and shook his head. One eyebrow lifted in a cocky arch. “Shouldn’t waste your breath talking. Need it for fighting,” he panted.
Knowing she gave him an advantage, she glanced at the sun. Time passed too quickly and she had somewhere else to be. Unlike others of her clan, she wasn’t able to manipulate a time portal.
As she knew he would, her opponent took the bait.
A quick sidestep. Crouch. Swing one leg. Connect.
Flailing his arms for balance, he went flying forward and crashed to his knees. Then he ate dirt. Breanna leaped to his side and planted one knee in the center of her brother’s back. “Yield?”
He angled his head to spit out a mouthful of dirt and dried leaves. “No.”
A low growl vibrated in her throat. She wrenched his free arm back, angling it high between his shoulders. “I don’t have time for this.”
He struggled against her weight and laughed. “Sorry to keep you. Yikes!”
The tip of her sword dug deep into the soft ground an inch from his nose. She yanked the shining steel from the dirt and planted it again, this time a half an inch closer. “Yield.”
She grinned when he slid his hand from his sword hilt, flexed his fingers then pressed his palm flat against the ground. “Okay.”
“Say it.” She tugged, just a little, on his arm.
“Okay, Bree, I yield.”
In one lithe movement she stood to the side and held out one hand. Chance rolled away from her sword and lay on his back staring up at her. Finally he shrugged, took her hand and hung heavily making her strain to help him to his feet.
Chance scrubbed a hand through his short, white-blond hair. “Geez, Sis. This was just supposed to be practice.” He moved his hand to his shoulder, cast her a disgruntled look, and rubbed. “Man, Bree. Did you have to pull so hard?”
She shook her head. He was never serious about practice. “You know how important this is, Chance.”
“Yeah, yeah. But there hasn’t been anything to fight against since Jayse and Lucidea killed Fiedhlim.” An odd, distracted look passed through his expression and Bree wondered how often he thought about the evil Faerie who had fathered him. All her life she’d struggled to keep that taint of evil from her beloved baby brother. Now he was nineteen, almost a man. And like any man, he wouldn’t let her into his thoughts.
“We never know when or where a new threat will appear. I want to be able to keep both of our worlds safe.”
“Ever since Granda handed the leadership of the Alastriona over to you, you’ve been nuts. What? Are you on some sort of power trip? Granda left the Alastriona because there wasn’t enough to keep him busy. Where are you finding all these threats? Where have all these dangers been hiding? Think they were waiting just for you?”
It was an old argument. She didn’t know why she felt there was something lurking, some evil power waiting until the protectors of mankind were lackluster and lazy. Deep in her bones she knew, she understood, a power waited. And that power would soon become impatient.
Chance waved a hand then moved toward the thick tree trunk where they’d left their scabbards. He wiped his sword on the hem of his tee shirt then sheathed the blade in the plain, worn leather. “Whatever. I know you’ll make me practice. And I will.” He turned to her, the laughter gone. A dark, serious light shimmered in his blue eyes. “I feel a gathering of some power, too. If my... if Fiedhlim wasn’t dead, I’d say he was gearing up for another attempt to take over.”
Eyes wide, Bree stared at her brother. “You... feel it?”
He gave her a typical adolescent eye-roll and snorted. “I’m not stupid. I’m half-Faerie, too, ya know.”
Interesting. She’d never suspected Chance had any inkling of the vibrations she felt in the dark night, much less honed the powers he’d exhibited so strongly when he was a baby. Having fully human parents in a clan made up of a multitude of Fey peoples hadn’t been easy for any of them. She’d been pretty precocious herself. Much to her father’s dismay.
“Why haven’t you said anything before now?”
“I wasn’t sure.” The darkness left his eyes and the clear blue sparkled with mischief. “Besides, I knew you’d really hit my training hard then. It’s bad enough now.”
“We need to talk about this. Do Mom and Dad know? Granda or Jaysson?”
“Nope, nobody but you. But...” He glanced at his hands and spread his fingers in a helpless, beseeching gesture. “I don’t suppose you’d keep this quiet. At least for a while. At least until I understand a little more about what’s going on.”
“Until we understand this, baby bro, I’ll keep your secret.” She sheathed her sword and wrapped one arm around his shoulders. His broad, well-developed shoulders. She paused in surprise. When had her little brother gotten so muscular? Must be all the training she put him through. “But you and I are going to talk about it. And soon.”
He opened his mouth, but she stopped his speech with a shake of her head. “Not now. I’ve got to be somewhere and I’m running late.”
His sly, knowing grin and waggled eyebrows made her groan.
“Off to the library again?”
“As a matter-of-fact, yes. Gowthaman’s found some new old manuscripts.”
“Since when are you interested in old manuscripts? Oh wait. I know. Since Gowthaman has something to do with them.” Chance laughed, pressing his palms against his stomach as if trying to hold in the glee. It didn’t work.
Drawing back her fist, Bree punched his arm. Instead of laughter, a harsh oomph of air burst past his lips.
“Geez, Sis. Did ya have to hit so hard? Good thing we’re grown up or I’d have to run and tattle to Mom.”
“Grown up? The way you tease?”
He danced a jig around her then bowed. “Part of my Faerie heritage.”
“Honestly, Chance. I’ve been helping Gowthaman—”
“Got the hots for him more like.”
Heat blazed in her cheeks but she refused to fall prey to Chance’s effective teasing. “Like I
said
, I’ve been helping him with research. You know Lucidea’s determined to get her uncle back from the world between worlds.”
“Yeah, she’s been trying for what... oh, since I was born? I know that’s a serious concern and everyone’s main focus now. But come on, Bree. Just admit it. You go to the library for the librarian.”
There was no getting around his astute statement. He was right. Although, as the leader of the Alastriona, it was important she knew and reasonably understood anything that could be harmful to Faerie or, through Fey contact, to the human world. She did spend more time at the library than she probably needed to. If only Gowthaman would admit he loved her. She knew he did. At least, she thought he did.
From Chance’s wide grin, she expected him to start skipping around her like he had when he was eight.
Bree an’ Gowthaman sittin’ in a tree...
The singsong taunting had merely annoyed her then. If he broke into song now, she’d deck him. Maybe a low blow that would have him singing soprano for a while. She’d never really do that, but just thinking about the possibility made her chuckle.
“I don’t like the sound of that.” Chance sidestepped away from her, then joined in her laughter. “You were just thinking about when I used to tease you.”
“Used to?”
He stopped and scuffed his toe in the dirt, looking like he was eight again, before lifting an innocent expression to her. “I’d never—”
“Uh-huh.” She rolled her shoulders to ease the remnants of battle tension. “Never mind. I’ve got to run. Will you take my sword back for me?”
“No sweat, Sis. Give Gowthaman a kiss for me—oh wait—I take that back. Give him one for you. Just say hi from me.” Laughing he took her sword and jogged along a narrow path toward the Faerie armory.
Breanna shook her head. Irrepressible
.
She loved him dearly and couldn’t imagine her brother any other way. Still, a darkness seemed to haunt his eyes at times and the odd expression she’d witnessed before he’d hidden his thoughts away behind laughter or smart-ass remarks concerned her deeply. With luck, someday soon, she’d get him to open up to her like he had when they were younger. Once he’d reached puberty, his confidences had become few and far between. She supposed that was the way it was with teenagers, but she missed their closeness.
Of course, she hadn’t exactly been an open book with him, either.
Books
.
She was due at the library and she really needed a shower. She wanted to appeal to Gowthaman, not offend his sensitive Faerie nose with the stench of mock battle. Forming a portal back to her apartment, she rushed through, leaving her concerns over her brother behind.
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W
hite hot, the desert sun blared down from a crystal blue sky. Gold and copper sand stretched in undulating dunes into the distance, ending at a hazy horizon. Gowthaman dragged his sandaled feet through the sand as he walked, relishing the warmth, willing the heat to seep into his cold, cold body.
He’d had another dream, or perhaps it was a memory. He no longer knew the difference. He wished the legends that the Fey didn’t dream were, in fact, truth. Fate had not been kind to him over the past twenty human years. He had been able to hold back the memory and keep the debilitating pain at bay for only so long.
He reached the oasis and sat cross-legged in the shade of a trio of palm trees. Clear water bubbled from a rock outcropping and splashed into a small pool. He dragged his hand through the water and shivered. Before long he would be forced to swallow his reluctance and ask for help—again.
Requiring assistance was not a bad thing. But there was only one who could chase away the pain and fill the emptiness left by the mind rape. Only one who held the skill to ease his suffering.
Only one.
