The Fallen Stars (A Star Child Novel) (38 page)

The presence of the stone in Willock’s hand could mean only one thing: Dillion must be dead. Meeting Willock’s gaze, I knew my assumption was correct.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

CALI—
GHOST FLEET

Bracing myself, I prepared for a rough landing on the other side of the portal. I hoped I’d end up on the lush green grass of my Irish homeland and not the cold rough rock of Cadillac Mountain. Running toward the portal, I jumped, only to bounce off of it with my good shoulder and fall back onto the rocks with my bad one.

The portal had been blocked again. Even though I’d opened it and it stood as a symbol of escape, beckoning to me, I could not pass. The way had been barred.

I cried out when I fell, but no one listened, no one came running to help me. Slowly I got up, my head throbbing, and I winced as I tried to bend my arm. Glancing at Cabhan, I could see signs of weariness in his posture. The other angels too, of which there were twelve, seemed to be weakening. The man in white looked as though he was merely out for a stroll on a summer’s day. With one hand, he fought all twelve as though they were children.

This man in white seemed to be winning. What would I do when the angels fell, as they appeared like they might at any moment? The portal had been barred, so what should I do now? White-hot pain exploded all over me. Another faerie air attack. The arrows punctured my flesh at odd angles, making me fall to my knees. Something wet rolled down my face and onto my legs. Blood left me in a gush that seemed unnatural.

Straining, I tried to remain on my knees, but I would not be able to sustain that position for long. Just like that, I fell forward in the direction of the mountain edge, slamming my chin on the rock. I bit my own tongue, blood seeping out of my mouth. I’d also possibly broken my face. The impact sent shockwaves through my jaw and more blood spurted out.

I’d never felt so afraid in my entire life. Closing my eyes, I imagined that Kellen knelt beside me, holding my hand. Dreams that I’d held so close to my heart were starting to fade away, but I found that if I worked hard enough I could recall them. Dreams of marrying Kellen and having a family with him, of exploring the world by his side. And yes, though I’d never admit it to Kellen, dreams of ruling by his side forever.

Cabhan’s face looked determined as he fought, his eyes frequently coming back to search mine. This was my end. I would never have those experiences with Kellen and I would never truly be his. For just a second I had difficulty focusing on the horizon. Something had appeared there, but the scene played out through eyes that had been strained well past endurance. Despite that, I still searched, trying to make out the anomaly that I was seeing. Were the angels coming for me? Was it my time now?

“No.” I forced out the word, though barely above a whisper. I wanted the angels to hear, to know that I wasn’t ready. As the image became clearer, though, I discarded the notion it was angels that approached. Instead of angels, a fleet of ships floated toward us. Unable to sit up, I simply lay on my side and stared out into the bay at the fleet of ships that sailed through the air.

The closer they came, the more heightened the sense of detail as I looked at them. They were magnificent sea vessels, flags flapping proudly in the wind. There were merchant vessels with cargo tied down. There were pirate ships which sailed under the ominous skull-and-crossbones flags. A small fishing vessel came the closest to me; a fisherman stood on deck brandishing a shotgun, apparently leading the charge. Raising a fist in the air, he yelled, “Onward! Onward!”

“Please let them be on our side.” Though I voiced my thought, my words were most likely incoherent. The facial injuries that I’d sustained prevented articulation. The attack on me, which had slowed down since I’d fallen, ceased entirely when the fleet of ships arrived. But by then I’d started to become numb to the pain. There’d been too much of it.

They floated closer, seeming to head straight for me. Were they going to hit me? If they did, would I die? They sailed above me through the air, their masses entirely transparent, though they seemed real and their sails billowed in the wind.

Then I identified them.
They were ghosts.
Ghosts of the sea perhaps, come to rescue us. The sound of the first cannon booming made the faeries scurry to take cover. Some faeries wielded their own powers, lifting the ships up in the air and attempting to turn them over, but the seamen continued to fight unperturbed.

No matter what the opposing army tried, the ghost fleet would not be stopped. Though I could no longer see the man in white, the other faeries’ reactions in their retreat and the looks of horror that painted their faces were telling. They could stop one another, but they could not stop the dead.

Upon closer inspection, I saw that each member of the ghost fleet army had writing on his or her back. Squinting, I tried to read it, though the dark and the distance made interpreting the words on the transparent beings a challenge. Then a ship passed directly by me and I read
Annie C. MacGuire 1886
on the back of a crewman aboard the vessel
.

The battle continued in earnest. The gun crews on the ships shot their cannons, the cannonballs blasting and scattering great numbers of faeries. Swordsmen jumped down from the ships and charged with their weapons. Men with quivers and bows in the crow’s nests shot arrows from their vantage points, each of them bearing a different name and date upon his back. The arrows zipped by my ears as I lay there, focusing. The name and date must be their ship and the year of death,
I guessed. Each of these men—and quite a few women, I noted—battled ferociously, their ghostly forms brandishing sharp blades, shooting arrows, or firing cannons.

If the ghost fleet couldn’t save us,
who could

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

KELLEN—
PICKING SIDES

Willock held the amulet aloft, suspended and glowing. It seemed to call to me, almost as if it spoke my name. I didn’t know why.

Before I knew what happened, I found my feet had led me to within a few inches of the stone. “What’s that impression on the front of it?” I asked. Willock’s eyes seem to light with some emotion in that moment, though I couldn’t place it.
Was it respect?

Arawn smiled. “It appeared when I transferred Danu’s powers to the amulet. For years, I thought it to be a watermark of some sort, or just the family crest. Then I realized that it is the most important part of the amulet. I believe that it is a missing piece that will help me control Danu’s powers and harness it to the fullest. To give it balance.”

The amulet pulsed in mid-air, like it had a life of its own. It made me uncomfortable. Swallowing, I looked back to Willock and then to Arawn. “Where’s the missing piece?”

Willock watched me then, as Arawn opened his shadowy mouth to speak. Before he could get the words out, I already knew the answer. Arawn only confirmed it.

“Why, Kellen, you are wearing the missing piece around your neck!” His laughter filled the room and I didn’t doubt that it would haunt me for the rest of my short life.

Cali. Oh, Cali.

Willock held the amulet aloft, suspended and glowing. It seemed to call to me, almost as if it spoke my name. I didn’t know why.

Before I knew what happened, I found my feet had led me to within a few inches of the stone. “What’s that impression on the front of it?” I asked. Willock’s eyes seem to light with some emotion in that moment, though I couldn’t place it.
Was it respect?

“I enjoy your questions very much. You are a very bright young man, for a mortal.” Arawn inclined his head.

Swallowing, I jammed my hands in the pockets of my sweatshirt. “Why didn’t you just have Willock take the pendant from me when we visited him? Why go through all this chasing around the woods? You have the amulet. Where do I fit in?”

“Ah, I was hoping we would get to that. I need you to control the amulet for me. Without you, I can only access a portion of its power. You are the only one who has true control over
both
parts, the amulet and the pendant.

A scowl creeping across my face, I glared at Arawn. “Dillion is dead, isn’t he?” My eyes shifted from Arawn to Willock. For a fraction of a second, we exchanged looks and I witnessed…remorse? Willock nodded.

Willock had certainly seemed like a suspicious character from the beginning, but he saved me at Compass Harbor, so he couldn’t be all bad, could he? His behavior now, combined with his emotions at the house as he spoke with Dillion, told me to trust him.
Willock was on our side.
Yet Dillion was dead, and any sense of relief that I could possibly feel from Willock’s sketchy alliance became overshadowed by loss.

Arawn’s voice sounded infinitely patient. “Dillion is the reason I couldn’t just take you from the house He hid the amulet and put a protection around the place that even I couldn’t break. But Willock found a way around that.”

“And I waited.” Willock’s voice broke in roughly from the back of the room.

“As any good servant would,” Arawn affirmed. Willock scowled behind his back. Arawn turned his attention back to me. “Then there was also the matter of you having killed me and left me without a body.”

Thoughts of Stephen invaded my mind. “So you took my father’s body and you were reborn.” I made my voice sound bored, which took a bit of effort.

Getting up, I turned my back on Arawn and walked to the window.
Cali. Cali. Cali. Cali.
I stared out onto the back lawn. Pitch black. “Am I really at Stephen’s house?”

Arawn smiled. “You are.”

“Why did you make it look this way? It usually looks different.” I referred to the décor.

“Kellen, we wanted to welcome you, of course. I thought it would be easier for you to accept my offer this way.”

“What offer?” I turned back to look at him.

“If you partner with me, Kellen, then you can have this life every day. Everyone you’ve ever cared about will be with you always. You’ll never be alone again.”

He snapped his fingers. In a heartbeat, everyone I’d ever loved stood in the room. My mother, Gran, Alistair, Gabe, Cali, Dillion, Lugh, Brigid…they were all there. Even Stephen stood in the group, though this version looked infinitely kinder than the one that I’d grown up with. Each one smiled at me. Gabe waved from the back, self-consciously dipping his head slightly behind the others, as though not to draw too much attention.

But I had eyes only for Cali and I ran to her. “Cali.” I barely had time to get the word out before I touched her arms and bent to kiss her.

“Kellen.” Her voice was a bit of heaven for me, and a sigh verged on escaping me. Yet before my lips could touch hers, she turned to dust at my feet. Forcing myself not to cry out in shock, I stood helpless as the same thing happened to each of the others.

They were illusions. Just like my mother and father had been.
None of it’s real.
Except Arawn, Willock, and myself…Even then I couldn’t be sure.

The room transformed then from the comfortable colors to the color scheme that had been in place when I’d last visited the house. The dark maroon color that dominated the home returned.

Glancing at Arawn now, I noticed that he looked weaker, discolored. “You’re weak. You need me so you can heal yourself, don’t you?”

There were white spots on his person. His image seemed fuzzier. He needed the amulet to survive.

Then walking away I added, “I don’t want anything to do with you. I should have killed you the right way the first time.” Pain surged through me again and before I could speak, my body turned against its will, back to face Arawn.

He raised his hands at his sides. “Well, I did suspect you might want to go in that direction, Kellen. So I made sure to bring some insurance.”

“What are you—” My voice caught in my throat as, with a wave of his hand, Arawn opened a door to the right that I hadn’t noticed before. I had certainly never been through it when I lived here as a boy.

The room wasn’t empty. Staring hard, I could barely make out the outline of the thing in the room. It seemed to be hanging upside-down from the ceiling, yet I couldn’t discern any features.

“Oh, forgive me, Kellen. I forgot that with your weak mortal eyes you would be unable to see,” Arawn said. He raised his hand and gave it a wave, which had the effect of turning on a small light in the room. Paralyzed, I stared into the eyes of my brother Roger.

He looked emaciated and I could see his ribs through the filthy t-shirt he wore. Even at twenty-three, he would have had a bit of a boyish quality to him if not for his withered state. Roger met my gaze with what appeared to be the utmost loathing.

Arawn walked up alongside me and touched my arm. Bugs seemed to crawl all over me, yet I knew they only lived in my imagination. “He, like you, is half changeling.”

My mind whirred, my heart pounding out of control. What did that mean? But again, I didn’t ask questions, not wanting to seem overeager.

Arawn continued, undeterred. “When I found Roger, I started the process of extracting his humanity. That way the changeling half of him will take over all of him, just like it did for your father. Roger will be one of us soon. Unless…unless, of course, you choose to side with me. Then only you would be the one to be changed.”

“What about Cali?” I asked the question that I wanted the answer to more than any other. It could no longer be avoided.

“Oh, the lovely Calienta.” His face quickly became a picture of hate. The memory of Cali frying Arawn’s hellhounds came back to me and I recognized the probable reason for Arawn’s initial reaction. “Dead, I’m afraid. Unable to protect that mortal body of hers.” He shrugged.