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Authors: O.R. Melling

The Summer King (31 page)

BOOK: The Summer King
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“It’s so beautiful,” she murmured, with tears in her eyes. “Like heaven on earth.”

They were crossing the borders of the Perilous Realm, where the world dissolved into myth. No longer sailing in Gracie’s small boat, they now stood on the deck of Granuaile’s galley. The crew scrambled over the rigging. Cormac, in the lookout, trained his telescope on Hy Brasil. The air resounded with the creak of wood and the whip-crack of the sails that snapped overhead. The ship raced over the rollers like a horse on the plain.

Standing at the prow, cloak swirling around her was Grace O’Malley, the pirate queen.

“Like heaven on earth,” she repeated to Laurel, but her eyes darkened as she surveyed the island. “Yet every garden has a serpent. Even heaven had its war.”

Ian’s muffled protests could be heard from a hold below. Loud thumps erupted as he kicked against the hatch.

Grace grinned with wicked glee and ordered her men to bring him before her. Though he was still bound, strong arms gripped him and a sword was held to his throat.

“Did you have a fair crossing, my liege?” she asked him.

Dirty and disheveled, he shook with rage.

Laurel searched for signs of the Ian she knew, the Ian she cared for. The familiar features were almost exploding with rage. The same blue eyes glittered beneath the dark hair. The same mouth twisted in a snarl. She recognized that snarl. It only added to her confusion.

“Your mission has failed.” He spat the words at her. The same voice, edged with venom. “I will never light the Midsummer Fire. Let Faerie fall, I care not. A fitting punishment for all who left me imprisoned. Hy Brasil will survive below the sea. And if humanity fades because it loses its dreams, all the better. I will celebrate its passing. The Earthworld would be a paradise without your race.”

Though she flinched to hear his voice so filled with hatred, Laurel remained calm. She drew the golden feather out of her pocket.

“I can make you light the fire,” she said quietly.

His face went white, but with fury, not fear, and his laugh was so cold it made her shudder.

“You may try to bind me to your will, but even if you succeed—and I doubt you could—it will do you no good. Once we set foot on Hy Brasil, my people will fight to free me.”

Stunned, Laurel turned to Grace.

“Is this true? Or a lie?”

The pirate queen looked grim.

“The truth, I’m afraid.”

Laurel was speechless. No matter what she did, she was blocked at every turn.

The sea queen drew her aside.

“All is not as it seems. You hold sway over the king, though he tries to hide it. And so, too, does Ian. The king is caught in the human body, for it is heavier than his own, and though he appears to have the upper hand for now, that does not mean he can keep it. Appeal to the one whom you hold dear. He is there also.”

Though the situation was bizarre, Laurel was beginning to understand. For one, it explained many things about Ian. She approached him warily. Two burly seamen guarded him with a sword at his throat, but she found herself wondering—which was stronger, ghost or fairy? She laid her hand over Ian’s heart. He trembled visibly but she couldn’t tell if it was with disgust or distress.

“Ian, are you there?”

Her voice was low, concerned. She felt as if she was fighting for his life.

The king’s voice was cold.

“I know what you are doing, but it will not work. He is only a part of me, and the weakest at that. I chose to enter a mortal child who would come one day to free me from the mountain. He has been mine since he was born, and I have resisted all human efforts to reform him. My nature will always triumph.”

“That’s not true,” she said, with sudden confidence. “Ian has always struggled against you, I can see that now. He’s a good person. And he hates what you did to Clan Egli and the Queen. He
loves
birds.”

“You lie!” the king screamed.

But she had struck home. She knew immediately that Ian was there, by the light in the blue eyes and the familiar torment in his features. It all made so much sense now.

“I’m sorry, Laurel. I can’t fight him. He’s stronger than me.”

“He isn’t! Keep trying! You’re so much better than him!”

She was about to embrace him, when a harsh laugh cut her short.

“Come near me and I’ll tear you apart,” he swore.

“Enough!” Grace signaled to her men. “Throw him overboard!”

Before Laurel could object, the men dragged Ian to the side of the ship and heaved him over.

Hands and feet still bound, he hit the water headfirst.

“He’ll drown!” Laurel cried.

Grace was already spinning the wheel and shouting orders at her crew. They scrambled to obey her. The ship came around and was flying from Hy Brasil.

Laurel ran to the side to look. There he was, swimming toward the island, slicing through the water like a shark. It was that little detail that convinced her at last—the fact he could swim—and something broke inside her as the truth struck home. Ian was the enemy.

She strode over to Grace and demanded angrily, “Why did you let him go? We need him to light the Midsummer Fire!”

The sea queen raised an eyebrow at her tone, but answered evenly.

“He was playing with us. Even I was distracted. Meanwhile, his people were gathering to attack. Had we taken him with us, they would have pursued. We are outnumbered. I only fight when I can win.”

Laurel glanced back at Hy Brasil. Though it was fast fading behind them, she could see the flashing lights on the shore. Weapons glinting in the afternoon sun.

Grace finished implacably: “We must gather an army. I know you hoped to avoid it, girleen, but as your friend and advisor I tell you now—for the sake of the mission, battle must be joined.”

 

aurel stood alone on the ramparts of Grace’s castle, overlooking Clew Bay. Waves crashed on the rocks below her. Beyond lay a multitude of islands. From the tower’s position she could see across to the mainland, but her gaze kept returning to the beach below. She was observing the arrival of the pirate queen’s army. Countless ships had dropped anchor around Clare Island. Currachs were rowing back and forth to bring the captains and commanders ashore. The men were handsome and broad-shouldered, with shaggy manes of hair and long flowing cloaks. Armed to the teeth, they greeted each other with loud guffaws and friendly blows. Some were accompanied by pipers skirling tribal marches. The air crackled with excitement. The Queen of the Sea had called a
gairm slógaidh
. A hosting of war.

Laurel regarded the proceedings with a cold eye. She did not think battle was thrilling or glorious, and it was not what she had set out on her quest to achieve. Yet she had to acknowledge the truth of the matter: with Faerie you always got more than you bargained for.

Her thoughts kept returning to Ian. She could hardly believe he was the Summer King. Of course it explained his erratic behavior, but were they two different people in one body? Or two sides of the same person? Did she really know him at all? She could see the dunes where they had lain together. Was that the Summer King too? The more she brooded on the matter, the more lost she felt. If only Honor were there. Her twin had always helped her sort out complications, whether with friends, boyfriends, parents, or teachers.

She’s not here,
Laurel reminded herself bitterly, and that was the core of the matter. Regardless of anything else, she had to save Honor, and if that meant going to war against Ian, then so be it.

She was about to leave when Laheen dropped out of the sky and alighted on the parapet.

“You are troubled.”

His voice was kind and soothing.

“Things are getting worse, not better,” she said.

He was like a great golden statue. He had yet to furl his wings, and they stretched out on either side of him, radiating light.

She felt her spirits lift.

“I bring you good news,” he said, folding his wings. “The Fir-Fia-Caw will fight by your side.”

As always, his words caught her by surprise.

“Even though I freed the king? I thought—” Then she stopped. Of course. “They want to capture him again,” she said, nodding.

“That is not the whole story,” Laheen said, quietly. “Something greater has happened. Long has Captain Ruarc been lost in madness, knowing nothing but vengeance. Though it meant the fall of Faerie, he would not free the one who murdered his queen, nor would he let the fire burn that destroyed his people.

“Now a light has shone to ease the darkness wherein he dwells. Just a short while ago, after years of silence and exile, he came to me with a mystery he could not fathom.

“On a certain night when he led his troop against you, he discovered the existence of your friend, Ian. It was a shock. For he sensed this man was of the king and yet not the king. From that time on, he endeavored to capture him and finally did so yesterday on Slievemore.

“Determined to understand the riddle, he brought his new prisoner to the King’s Cave. The moment the Summer King saw Ian, he became enraged.

“‘You fool!” he shrieked. ‘You let them catch you! You are no use to me now!”

“Your friend staggered back, looking pale and distressed, and said, ‘I … know … you.’

“‘Of course you know me, idiot,’ the King said.
‘I am you
.’

“It was a strange exchange, all the stranger because Ruarc felt the link between the two, yet could also perceive the difference. His new captive vehemently denied the charge and begged to be taken away. Alas, too late, for the Summer King reached out for your friend and subsumed him.”

Laurel’s face drained of blood. She felt faint.

“He killed Ian?” she choked.

“No. He claimed him. For Ian carried a part of the king sent into your world to set himself free. Reunited, they exist as one. While this must cause you pain, good may come of it. Your friend’s nature impressed Ruarc. He believes that Ian can conquer his kingly self and tame the fiery nature that has done so much wrong. He will help him do this.”

Laurel struggled to understand what Laheen was saying. She recalled the battle between Ruarc and Ian outside the King’s Cave. No wonder it was so vicious. She had witnessed mortal combat between two ancient enemies. It made the eagle’s words all the more poignant and, just for a second, she forgot about the Midsummer Fire and Faerie, forgot even about Honor.

“Are you saying Ruarc wants to save his enemy?”

Laheen’s eyes shimmered with tears.

“Before he fell into madness, Ruarc was the most noble of my children. He believes in redemption, for is it not his hope also?”

“And mine too,” she said softly.

After Laheen left, Laurel went to the main hall to deliver his news. A Council of War was in progress. Grace stood at the head table, looking over a map of the western seaboard that showed the islands of Achill, Clare, and Hy Brasil. With her commanders around her, she was issuing orders and debating strategy. They spoke in Irish together, but when Laurel arrived, they switched to English. She had just told them about their new allies, when the Fir-Fia-Caw arrived.

In three troops of seven moving as one, they fanned out across the hall like birds in flight formation. Jet-black eyes rimmed with gold scanned the room with the fierce stare of the predator. Both male and female were garbed in dark battle-dress of leather jerkins, tight trews, and knee-high boots. Their long feathered mantles had a violet sheen. In place of the wide hats, glossy dreadlocks fell to their waists. And though they bore almost human form, dark-skinned and sharp-featured, their spirit was that of the raven: proud and solitary, cold and dangerous.

As they approached the head table, they let out their battle cry—
kra-a-w kra-a-w
—and the harsh sound shattered the air. Though no one cowered, most did step back. A terror had come among them.

Captain Ruarc strode forward. His right arm lay motionless at his side, bound in a splint, but the opposite hand rested on the hilt of a great sword. In a guttural voice, he called out the names of his kindred, the last of their kind, as they presented themselves to Grace. It was Aróc who commanded the
Mná-Fia-Caw
, the troop of seven sisters. Cádac was chief over the second troop of males, while Ruarc led the first; but the Captain of the Queen’s Guard and their eldest brother was also leader over all.

BOOK: The Summer King
5.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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