Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
Images painted through Nicole’s mind: gods in glades with great shimmering capes; epic powers from the space between stars, and ancient civilisations in Ireland that were now lost to time.
Or perhaps purposefully hidden. With everything they’d discovered and her mother’s stories, locating a real divine artefact would make sense.
‘The Dagda,’ Callum continued, ‘was the god of many things: life and death, druidry, and fertility. According to the myths, a real show-off, though not as bad as Lug.’
Nicole remembered the name, recalling the spelling ‘Lug’ while realising Callum pronounced it as ‘Loo’.
‘Lug was, among other things, known for oaths and kingship.’
‘The God of Oaths?’ Nicole asked, recalling her mother’s clue.
Kyan nodded tightly.
‘Ireland,’ Lawna interjected softly, ‘seems to be the key.’
Callum put down his cup. ‘The Dagda had another side, however, as Donn, the God of Death, and the celestial partner of the Morrígan.’
The goddess that made Empyreals …
‘In one legend, Cath Tánaiste Maige Tuired—’ Callum continued.
‘The Second Battle of Maige Tuired,’ Kyan translated.
‘—it tells of a battle between the Túatha Dé and the Fomóiri – enemy Demon Gods.’
Nicole looked to her father. ‘You told us stories about them?’ she checked, recalling distant tales of wicked magic and demonic immortals.
Her father nodded, quiet.
Callum gave him an approving, curious look. ‘At one point, the harp of the Dagda was stolen by the Fomóiri and the three best warriors of the Túatha Dé – Dagda, Lug, and Ogma – got it back.
‘The Fomóiri desired the instrument as it had great power and possessed the three strains of otherworldly music. An iron string that induced sorrow, or death. A bronze one for joy. And a silver one, for sleep. Though, those aren’t the only powers the harp possesses, are they?’
‘No,’ Remi said, leaning closer as if building to her main point. ‘In Siren society, there’s a legend about the harmony of the spheres.’
‘I remember you telling me about this,’ Nicole murmured, thinking of a painting in Westmoore’s collection Remi had been keen to see.
She nodded. ‘It’s deemed to be mythological, but some Sirens, like my father, have theories that it’s real, and have been trying to prove it.’
‘Which is why the Wake tried to assassinate him,’ Lawna added darkly.
Bells’ skin drained of colour.
‘He was the lore-keeper,’ Remi said. ‘And he had access to some of our oldest songs and stories.’
Callum’s brows rose slightly. Remi seemed mildly uneasy admitting that fact. Nicole knew Remi’s father, Adam, had been searching for old Celtic songs, in Welsh, Irish, and Scots Gaelic for years and was still doing so. Was this why?
‘The thing is,’ Remi said, ‘I also think the harmony of the spheres is real. But my theory is that if the Dagda’s harp is real, too, it had a role in keeping the harmony balanced.
If it was stolen, or broken, or hidden, like your mother’s note suggests, then I wonder if retrieving it, or playing it, would help. ’
‘But what is this harmony?’ Dylan asked. ‘And what spheres?’
‘I think it’s – for lack of a better term – the vibrations that affect planetary movement.’
‘So, just to sum up,’ Dylan began, ‘you think that the “Siren’s Instrument” we need to bring down the Wake, is actually a harp of the king of the Irish gods, which not only has the power to cause death and destruction but also to change the planetary alignments?’
Remi’s overwhelmed smile portrayed how much she’d fought to understand and untangle her part of the mystery in the last six months. ‘Yep.’
‘Are you saying you want to … steal this Brian Boru Harp?’ Bells asked, cautious.
‘I mean, I hope not, but I do need to check it out. I don’t want to steal anything; it’s a very important symbol of Ireland.’
‘It’s the symbol of Ireland,’ Kyan said softly.
Worry knotted Nicole’s stomach.
‘If it’s supernatural, won’t it be guarded?’ Dylan asked. ‘How close will you need to get?’
‘I honestly don’t know. Ideally, I would need to see it out of the glass box it’s in, and perhaps play it to know how it feels and if it is somehow a divine instrument.
Especially because the story says that the Dagda’s harp has only three strings.
This is strung with many more, so I’m doubtful.
But I also think I’ll be able to feel if it’s the right one because …
’ She smiled, eyes winking with the joy of sharing a secret. ‘I think I found one of the strings.’
Nicole’s father sat forward, alarmed and riveted. He looked between Remi and her mother. ‘How is that possible?’
‘One old line of my family tree comes from the Ard Ollam,’ Remi said.
Kyan’s arms unfolded. ‘What?’
Remi explained for Nicole and her siblings. ‘They were the most renowned musicians in ancient Ireland.’
‘They were more than that,’ Kyan said. ‘They were some of the most powerful people in court. If any of them travelled, the royalty they visited had to offer the best place at their table. Their songs and stories had the power to make or break a kingdom and its ruler.’
‘You say found it,’ Callum began, something darker than curiosity and intrigue in his tone. Concern. ‘Where?’
‘I can’t reveal that.’
‘Fine,’ Callum said. ‘Smart girl. Just tell me three things: have you touched it, have you hidden it again, and what colour was the string?’
‘I touched it once. Why?’ The fingers of Remi’s right hand curled, but Nicole noted no new mark or scar.
Callum made a thoughtful noise.
‘Don’t be so mysterious,’ Dylan said.
Callum gave him a look. ‘I live to be mysterious. I just wonder if touching such a divine instrument would … awaken something, perhaps.’
‘Awaken what?’ Lawna asked sharply.
‘Something in the blood, maybe. Siren song isn’t just vocal, sometimes it can pull on older things. Things we might suppress, or might not even know are there. Even revive lost music.’
‘Ancestral songs,’ Remi realised.
He inclined his head.
‘Yes, it’s hidden,’ she added. ‘And … it was an iron string.’
The string of sorrow and death.
Dylan sighed deeply. ‘Okay, so when we get the Muse’s clue on the next goddess-blessed item, we go to Ireland and check out this harp. We don’t need to steal it, we just need to get it in Remi’s hands.’
‘I have a meeting in the Speakeasy with someone who might know more,’ she said.
Nicole rose. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘You mean we will,’ Dylan said.
‘I can come,’ Kyan added.
‘Er – no offence.’ Remi looked between the Empyreals. ‘But if all of you show up, no one is going to talk to us. Besides, the Speakeasy isn’t open until tomorrow night.’
‘Are you sure it’s wise to go?’ Bells asked. ‘If we need to take the harp and you’ve spoken to people about it, then they’d know we had something to do with it. Right?’
‘Exactly why we don’t want to take it, ideally,’ Lawna said. ‘And why we need discreet people.’
‘But how do we use it?’ Dylan asked. ‘Do you just play it? Do you have to use the death string to … stop the Wake? Or would using it alert the gods somehow, wherever they are? Mum’s message mentioned this God of Oaths – Lug? Would this draw him?’
‘Not possible,’ Callum cut in. ‘Immortals have been theorising for millennia why the gods left us. If they might come back. What went wrong. The harmony of the spheres being off would explain why the gods haven’t been seen for all that time.
They wouldn’t be able to return until the harmonies are realigned. ’
‘I think Freya’s next clues will show us what to do with everything we find,’ Remi said.
‘That sounds like her,’ Nicole’s father added with a soft nod, but his eyes were distant, mind calculating.
‘I’m not exactly sure I’d be able to play it,’ Remi added. ‘It’s said only a god can play it to its full potential without dying in the process.’
‘Ah, but that’s not quite true,’ Callum said. ‘Because úaithne may not have been the name of the harp, but the harper himself. Which means only a god, or one of úaithne’s descendants can play it.’ He smiled. ‘If we can find them.’