Mists of Velvet (2 page)

Bronwnn did not need to hear the warning of the Sidhe king’s arrival murmured throughout the forest, for she had felt him long before the leaves shimmered above her, telling of his nearness to the temple.

His was a power divined from the earth and the elements. His strength and magic preceded him, making him the most powerful force in Annwyn. Once, it had not been so. Once, the Supreme Goddess had been the most powerful, but Bronwnn had seen the subtle shift of power. Cailleach, of course, did not recognize it yet. But Annwyn did. All living creatures revered the king, bowed to his magic, and stood in wonder of the human queen whose powers made her husband so potent.

Their union was a force no magic could have forged. They were destined to find each other, fated to love each other. For that was the way of mating in Annwyn. It was fated in the moon and stars, a destiny forged in the cosmos. No one could outrun his fate—nor want to. The desire to find and claim one’s mate was an irresistible force, and the Sidhe king was as helpless before his own destiny as any other creature in Annwyn.

It was said there was one special soul to match every living thing in the world. One could live lifetimes before crossing paths with one’s soul mate, but in the end, the two destined spirits would finally make their way to each other, just as the king’s and queen’s spirits had merged despite one being human and one Sidhe. The new queen had made her king powerful.

Even now the earth seemed to pulsate with the king’s authority, and soon all in Annwyn would pledge their fealty to the Sidhe king, and to his eight warriors.

She had seen it. She did not doubt this vision. It was only a matter of when, for it would happen. Her gift did not lie.

Sitting on the window ledge, Bronwnn gazed out from her spot high in a temple chamber, watching the clear waters of the meandering river snake toward the horizon, where they would eventually tumble over a waterfall. The climb up to the temple was steep, and the terrain treacherous, designed as it was to protect the ancient order housed within these thick stone walls. A castle supposed to be a sanctuary for her kind, it had never felt like a safe haven for her. For Bronwnn, it had been nothing but a prison.

The wind picked up, blowing long strands of white blond hair from her braid. The hair tickled her eyes and obstructed her view of the mighty Sidhe king. Brushing the wayward strands from her eyes, she tucked them behind her ear, pressing forward in order to watch the king step out of the forest. Behind him was the queen—Mairi was her name—and when he embraced his wife tightly to his body, Bronwnn closed her eyes and absorbed the current of desire that emanated from them.

She had once seen the king taking his wife. She had watched as the queen rode on top of her husband. She had studied them, enraptured, as the king made love to his wife on the sacred altar of the Sidhe.

Bronwnn had been walking through the grove in an attempt to shake off the feeling of restlessness that had troubled her for weeks. The sound of their passion had drawn her to the king’s Nemed—sacred place.

From between the trees, she had been at first startled, then intrigued to see the king and queen in the act of loving. Decency decreed she leave, but that restless feeling inside her forbade it. Instead, she watched them, wishing she might one day find the same passion with her own mate.

Later that night, she had dreamed of a lover taking her body. His hands, large and warm, had touched her in places that seemed to bloom beneath his fingertips. It had been her first dream of
him
—not of the king, but of another: a lover she had dreamed of every night since, only to awaken in the morning in a state of unspent agony.

Her time was coming, she realized, as she saw fleeting mental images of a dark-haired man with large, powerful arms and beautiful hands. She was reaching sexual maturity, a time in the life of a goddess that was spiritual and pure.

Except the feelings and needs that assaulted her were not spiritual. They were carnal, lustful. She craved sex; she hungered for it—burned with the need for it. Did other goddesses feel the same, or was the need naturally stronger for her? As the goddess of sexuality and fertility, was she
meant
to have more powerful needs, or was this yet another abomination she was to live with?

Now she watched the king and queen kiss and felt her own body come alive, just as it had that night when she watched them make love.

Would she ever have this? A mate to touch her this way? Or would she forever be Cailleach’s servant, with only her fevered dreams to bring her pleasure?

While the other young goddesses were schooled in the arts of sexuality, Bronwnn had been sheltered, forbidden to prepare for the sacred act of Shrouding. Left on her own most of the time, Bronwnn used the ancient texts in the library, learning what she could while trying to find a way to relieve the ache of what was coming—being left behind while the others were courted by Annwyn’s warriors, who would fight over them in a show of male strength. Only the strongest would lie with a goddess, for it was the greatest honor to share a bed with one of her kind. Every man dreamed of it. Every goddess rejoiced in it, for it was their duty, not only to sustain the order but to cement the bonds with the inhabitants of Annwyn.

The others would experience it, and Bronwnn would be left alone in her chamber to wonder what it was like. Perhaps she might be able to hide in the shadows to watch and see what would be forever denied her.

Bronwnn had never been told why she was kept separate from the others, but she believed it was because of the unusual powers she had, powers that Cailleach feared. So the Supreme Goddess segregated her, keeping her alone, to attend only her. This ensured that Bronwnn was always within sight, and within reach, as though whatever she saw in Bronwnn’s eyes worried the Supreme Goddess.

Why? Was what she saw inside Bronwnn so horrifying that she must be kept from all the others? The thought made her lie awake at night.

Their hands still entwined, the two lovers parted, slowly releasing, unwilling to let go; the image replaced the worrisome thoughts of Cailleach. The king was devoted to his queen, and to Annwyn. That was the reason he was here today. He would honor Cailleach’s summons.

Reaching up on tiptoe, the queen kissed him, and Bronwnn saw the love shining in her eyes as they parted. It was wise for the queen to leave the king to his business, for she would not have a warm welcome here at the temple. The Supreme Goddess did not like her or fully accept her, for the queen was mortal, and Cailleach viewed mortals as inferior and useless. Rodents, she called them.

But Bronwnn knew Cailleach would have to change her view of mortals if she wished any sort of assistance from the king. Times were changing, and Annwyn was now thrust into darkness. Even the temple was cast in a pall. Its mists, which had once shone like a rainbow, were now a gloomy shade of gray. The sun no longer rose over the temple but left it cast in a cloud of melancholy.

Evil was present. Bronwnn felt it, that persuasive darkness that spread throughout Annwyn like a cloying vine, wrapping its tendrils around anything that got in its path. Annwyn, she was afraid, was succumbing to the dark magick.

The Sidhe king watched his wife disappear into the forest before he shape-shifted into an elegant raven. He soared, high and graceful, catching the current of wind so that he dipped and banked. Fascinated, Bronwnn studied him, watching how he became one with the animal inside him. The king seemed to embrace both man and beast.

Slipping away from the window seat, Bronwnn made her way down the curved staircase to Cailleach’s private solarium. She was not expected to wait on the Supreme Goddess while she spoke with the king, but she was far too curious to let such an opportunity pass her by. She hid behind a curtained screen, watching through a tiny crack as the king landed in the middle of the solarium, his bird form gone, replaced by a tall, imposing Sidhe.

“I received your summons.”

Cailleach’s pet owl flew from the back of her throne to his velvet perch by the window. The bird’s shrewd eyes watched the king, and Bronwnn pressed farther back to the wall, hoping to avoid the owl’s gaze. Cailleach, she noticed, did not rise to greet the king. They were not equals in her mind. She and the Sidhe king ruled Annwyn together, but the Supreme Goddess had always held ultimate power. Cailleach still clung to the old ways, despite the old ways having allowed the Dark Arts to be reborn.

“Sit, Raven. Do you care for some wine?”

“I care to get this over with.”

Bronwnn watched as Cailleach’s cheeks reddened with anger. “I see marriage has done little to soften you, or improve your manners.”

“You’ve taken me away from my investigations. I demand to know what is so important that you’ve interrupted my search for the Dark Mage.”

“That Soul Stealer is what has me summoning you.”

Sitting in the chair opposite Cailleach, the king watched her warily. “Have you information for me?”

“One of my handmaidens has the sight.” It was Bronwnn she was speaking of. Now her ear was pressed tightly against the gossamer fabric of the screen. She hoped her shadow was not evident. She should not be eavesdropping, but she couldn’t leave now, knowing the Supreme Goddess was speaking to the king about her.

“Do you recall the book I had you find? It belongs to her, and to her mother before her.”

“And what care have I for this handmaiden?”

Cailleach sent him an annoyed glance. “Because you understand the significance of this book, that is why.”

“Do I?”

Cailleach’s expression turned murderous. “Play your games with your courtiers, Raven, if games amuse you. However, they only provoke and irritate me. Surely you can see that this farce of cat and mouse we play together has made our alliance and our rule ineffective.”

The king cleared his throat and shifted his large body in the chair. Curtly, he nodded. “Continue.”

Cailleach took a sip from the gold chalice, then carefully set it aside. “You will care about this handmaiden, because she can successfully prophesize the future. She records her visions in the book, then reports them to me.”

Not all of her visions, Bronwnn thought. She had kept many things from the goddess—things she could not understand or explain; things that might prove dangerous if they fell into Cailleach’s hands.

“And what has she told you, Cailleach?”

“How do you think I came by the knowledge that there would be nine warriors to find my amulet and the missing flame?”

Intrigued, the king sat forward in his chair. “So that is what this summons is about. Now who is playing games, Cailleach? Why not come out and admit it. You want the names of my warriors.”

“It’s been weeks since you wed. I’ve allowed you enough time to woo your queen. Now it is time to see to your duties.”

He smiled, then sat back in his chair. “I can see you’ve never been wed, or wooed,” he said with a chuckle, “for you would know that weeks are not nearly long enough when spent with a lover.”

The queen stiffened and glanced away. “My handmaiden has told me it is time for the nine to arise and begin the hunt. Dark magick is sweeping across Annwyn. We cannot delay.”

“Let me speak with her,” the king demanded.

“Impossible,” Cailleach scoffed. “She has taken a vow of silence. She has not spoken a word since she was a child.”

That vow had been for her own protection. Visions constantly flooded her, and Bronwnn could never be certain her secrets would not come spilling out along with her visions. There were things about her that the goddess didn’t know. Things that could get her banished from the order. She shuddered to think of what could happen—something much worse than being segregated from the others; that was for certain.

“Well, isn’t that convenient?” Suddenly the king’s gaze darted to the screen, and she froze. He saw her. He had pinned her with his mismatched eyes, and she was caught.

Preparing herself for Cailleach’s wrath, Bronwnn held her breath. The tirade never came. Cailleach was still sitting on her throne, and the king’s attention was still focused on where Bronwnn was hiding. There was a warning in his gaze and a message in his eyes. She knew then she must stay, and he would speak with her after his meeting with Cailleach had ended.

Suddenly, his gaze left her, only to be pinned on Cailleach. “I sense that this handmaiden is not entirely what she appears to be.”

“Bronwnn would never dare cross me. She knows the price of betrayal.”

“Fear does not instill loyalty, Cailleach. Trust is earned and freely given.”

Cailleach’s expression turned mutinous. “You dare presume you know of our ways? You are a Sidhe. Sidhe know only how to fight and mate.”

The king glared at Cailleach. “Speak carefully, Cailleach, for it is very early in our truce. I am not above severing it.”

Cailleach’s pale green eyes turned a frosty shade. “Our truce is for the benefit of Annwyn, not each other. I will speak as I find fit. Now, then, the symbol you showed me, the one painted on the wall in the mortal realm—when I showed it to Bronwnn, she was able to see that only one magician is performing these rituals. He invokes Gwyn, our god of death and ruler of the Shadowlands, as well as the Dark Angel of the mortals’ religion. Two separate deities, but one man.”

“So Suriel was correct. He told me the mark referred to an angel named Uriel.”

The Supreme Goddess actually shivered at the name, but she recovered almost immediately. “Now we know we hunt one man—for now. He is either an angel or a mortal with extensive knowledge of both angelic and Druidic lore. An occultist, a practitioner of the most dangerous of the Dark Arts.”

“And did she tell you what this man looked like?”

“She writes the word ‘chameleon,’ over and over again. Do you know what it means?”

“It is an animal that exists in the mortal realm. It resembles a small dragon, except this animal is able to change its appearance to blend in with its surroundings. It’s a protective ability.”