Chapter 16 Carwynn
CARWYNN
“Maybe we should take a trip to the Human Realm and pay those little eejits a visit.” Breena grumbled, dodging a low-hanging branch as we trudged through the forest.
As the sun dipped, the sky was lit up in hues of orange and gold, looking like a creamy sorbet you could smear your finger across. We’d left the orb-guided path a while ago having gone rogue, trekking through the thick woods.
“I could hex them to shite their trousers anytime they’re near someone they find attractive,” Aine added, lugging a knapsack over her shoulder.
“Oooo yes!!!” Breena chuckled.
I’d made the mistake of telling them about the bullies I’d dealt with while growing up in the Human World. There was something in Aine’s voice that confirmed she was dead serious.
“As fun as that sounds, they’re probably all grown adults by now and don’t even remember me,” I said nonchalantly.
“Ugh,” Breena huffed. “Right, the whole time difference. I still can’t wrap my head around you being just a wee little babe,” she teased.
“I look the same age as you!” I snapped, trying to sound annoyed but a smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
Although my aging has now slowed, had I originally grown up in Ferie, I would’ve still been a young child.
Time moved differently between the realms. Whereas human adults hit maturity mid-twenties, it took Ferieborns decades to reach that.
Those poor Ferie mothers who breastfed. I guess no one foresaw what would happen biologically when I was hidden there.
I grew rapidly, like humans. Even David couldn’t escape the speckling of gray that snuck into his hair.
Worst of all, puberty and maturity hit me early, gifting me with the monthly visit from Aunt Flo like a normal human girl.
Lucky me.
I let out a frustrated exhale, remembering the tantrum I’d thrown at David when I found out Ferie women only got their period once every few years, unless actively taking fertility potions to aid pregnancy. A condition I had zero interest in, at the moment.
Which reminded me—
“Hey, could one of you make me a womb juice refill?” I muttered, slightly cringing.
“If you stop calling it that immediately, then yes,” Aine said, turning to make sure I saw her repulsed expression.
“Already made one—left it in the kitchen cabinet,” Breena chimed, barking out a laugh. “Also, I think we should call it the wombshield elixir. Or maybe fertile fool potion?”
“Veto fertile fool,” I said, stepping over a downed tree. “Wombshield, it is. Thanks guys!”
“No problem.” Aine’s voice sharpened, wickedness creeping in. “Wouldn’t want you to start popping out a litter of red-headed luckbabies wearing tweed suits.”
Fuck’s sake . . .
Me sleeping with Lochlainn seemed to be their endless source of entertainment. They’d never let me live it down.
“Awww!!!” Breena let out a high-pitched yelp, clapping her hands, bouncing.
“Think of how cute they’d be! At the rate you could pop them out, we could have a whole collection of them in a decade!
” Her eyes glistened. “I’d be Auntie Breena!
I’d read them stories, make them cute little blankets, and have them play tricks on the neigh—”
“Oh my god, Breena!” My shout cleaved through her words.
Aine and Breena shared a look, then burst into laughter.
“It was one time!” I raised my hand in exasperation. “And definitely a mistake . . . on both our ends. It was fun, don’t get me wrong, but he doesn’t exactly seem like the love-you-for-eternity kind of guy. Not to mention, he’s top on David’s shit list right now.”
Breena spun, eyes wide with a hand over her heart.
“Carwynn wants an eternal love bond,” she said fondly, eyes gleaming. “That’s so sweet!”
“Good luck with that,” Aine scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“The only thing I’ve ever learned from men is not to trust them.
They’ll do anything to get what they want.
Give ya the world, so it’s easier to steal it back right from under you.
” Her face turned to the sky, gazing at the fresh glitter of twilight, as though lost to a distant memory.
A piece of my heart sank to a cold, dark abyss hearing the pain behind Aine’s words.
Who did that to her? I knew she wouldn’t answer if I asked, but the urge to throttle whoever hurt her brewed inside me. Some asshole, no doubt.
“David’s right, ya know—to hate him.” Aine spun around to face me.
“I do too. Lochlainn never should’ve put ya in harm’s way that night.
He’s a selfish, greedy bastard. Could’ve gotten you killed.
” She gave me a hard, warning look, but it softened as her eyes fell to the sliver of new scar peeking out from my sweater.
No doubt, remembering when I’d come home after the attack.
Aine and Breena looked like two moms who’d pulled an all-nighter worrying about me by the time I’d returned from David’s—after the Dullahan incident.
They had a full-on freak out when Finley showed up asking if I was all right.
They were ready to tear my head off until I broke down, rehashing the horrors of the night.
Scolding expressions immediately transformed into warm hugs and waterworks.
A part of me cracked open in a way I hadn’t felt before as I told them about almost dying—again, the strange flower magic I’d conjured, who my real mother is, who my adoptive father is.
My soul exhaled the moment I released those secrets—the moment I let someone in.
I’d spent enough time being shut out and lied to, I didn’t want to pay that forward to my friends as well.
So I took a blind bargain and told them the truth—despite David’s instructions not to.
The tension between David and I finally broke that night.
Although a thousand more questions settled in my mind, at least some weight had lifted.
Bad energy between us never felt right. It’d slowly eat away at me.
I was still pissed, but at least I had a better understanding of him now.
As per the new information about the Skell King and some prophecy…
that was going to take some time to digest.
I also came clean about the things I was hiding from him, like the work I did for Lochlainn and the deal I’d struck to use his resources to search for the relics in my dreams. David was far from pleased, but to my surprise, he agreed that Lochlainn’s collections were a good start.
He believed me—that the relics meant something—and could possibly be a clue to help restore Loveland.
It looked as if someone had an invisible gun to his head as he gave me his strained approval.
But at least he was trying. Letting me grow, allowing space for me to make my own decisions.
And my first independent decision was to let Aine and Breena in on my secrets.
They were completely shocked at the mention of an Ancient . . . and the Skell Queen, my mother.
“Carwynn—fucking souls’ sake! This is next-level madness!
” Aine gripped her head like a vice, both hands pressing into her temples.
“Do you think it was the Skell King who sent the Ancient after ya? I mean, how would that even be possible? And how would he know you’re here?
And your mother—the Hallow Land Queen! Sacred souls! ”
She spiraled like a tornado. And honestly, I couldn’t blame her.
Breena didn’t blink an eye at the news of David being the Lord of Loveland.
Turns out, the Aos Si elders knew. They’d known he was my guardian but were instructed to keep it confidential.
That kind of trust spoke volumes—David clearly had a deeper connection with the Aos Si fairies than he let on.
Which explained why he’d been so adamant to move me to The Mounds, of all places.
He hadn’t even disclosed my mother’s identity to the Lord of Luckland.
Or at least, not until after the Dullahan incident.
“I knew it!” Breena exploded. “It didn’t make sense to me why the Lord of Loveland would wake up one day and be like, ‘Hey, ya know what, maybe I’ll adopt some stowaway Ferie child today!
’” Her eyes were wild, buzzing with energy.
“I knew there had to be a bigger reason behind it! This makes so much sense now!”
Aine looked pale, anxiously picking at her fingers.
Breena, on the other hand, looked ready to ride out to battle.
“There is no chance in hell that Skell bastard is going to put a bony finger on ya! We’ll make sure of that!” Her eyes blazed.
Aine had unexpectedly placed a hand on mine, squeezing, unspoken words passing between us. She was with me.
My roommates. My friends.
That moment with them hit somewhere deep within—filling a void in my heart I hadn’t realized was still empty.
Breena’s screech broke through the torrent of my thoughts.
“Look!” She pointed to an opening among the trees. “We’re here!” She rushed forward, a little pep in her step. “Also, I agree. I second Aine on that one—Lochlainn would be a shite match for ya. And especially if the whole locked-his-heart-away rumor is true . . .”
Wait, what the hell did that mean? Locked it away as in, magically? On purpose? A consequence of using too much power?
Aine followed Breena, disappearing past a large tree trunk.
“What do you mean—” I opened my mouth to ask but froze.
All the hairs on my body prickled, standing on end. My inkling flared, putting my senses on high alert.
I waited, expecting the usual spirit intrusion, but nothing came.
Not until I felt it—like I’d cast an invisible line into the dark, unknowingly hooking it on a soul.
Spirits had always barged in relentlessly, speaking to me, whispering.
But this was entirely different. It was as if I could touch its warmth, palpable and alive.
Not just sensing it, but feeling it, invading its space like spirits had always done to me.
I turned around, scanning the near-black woods.
I sucked in a breath. Wisps of shadow, like a narrow cloud of smoke snaked through the trees. But in a blink, it was gone. Most likely a trick of my eyes.
Then, the darkness inside me stirred, urging me to reach out, to take hold. But take hold of what, exactly?
Tug.
The line went taut. Something halted on the other end.
What the hell? That shouldn’t be poss—
“Carwynn!” Breena's voice snapped my thoughts in half. “Get your butt over here!”
I blinked, shaking out of the strange, unexplainable trance. My hands shook, brushing off the creepy sensation as I stepped forward through the trees.
The forest opened to a vast, lush meadow.
A crystal-clear spring snaked through the grass, its waters babbling over jade-colored stones.
One part of the stream swirled into a deep, off-shoot pool, carved from bedrock with flakes of gold.
Beside it, stones were meticulously arranged into a circular fire pit, with moss-covered boulders acting as benches.
On the distant hilltop, Luckland’s gilded Candela towered high, spearing the last light of day across the land. Below it, the Scurboga Gate gleamed faintly, a flickering rainbow arch casting a soft glow like a beacon in the night.
“Breena, this is—” My words fell short, stolen by the magic of the landscape ahead of me.
“I know,” Breena said, grinning. “It’s my favorite view in Luckland. We used to come out here to practice magic and unwind, but it’s been a while.” Her eyes slid toward Aine. “Figured it was time to revive it.”
Aine quietly nodded, a soft grin sweeping her lips.
“I didn’t realize until now how much I’ve missed this place,” Aine whispered.
Breena lifted her hands, fingers dancing through the air in delicate, fluid motions while she whispered an incantation that sounded more like a hymn than a spell.
Wind swirled around the fire pit, lifting kindling and leaves into a gentle cyclone flecked with gold and twinkling starlight.
The whirl swelled, then burst, igniting the pit in a sudden blaze of flames.
Instant inferno? Now that was one hell of a party trick.
“Well done!” I beamed at her.
It wasn’t often I saw Breena practice her Craft, only bits and pieces when she was coaxing the garden to grow or flinging bowls around the kitchen during a sweet tooth baking frenzy.
“Show off,” Aine muttered, clearly unimpressed, but the crease in her eyes said otherwise. She dropped the rucksack onto the bench with a thud.
“Careful!” Breena scolded, shooting daggers with her eyes. “You’ll smash my muffins!”
Aine gave a dark chuckle, digging into the bag and setting out a tempting display of baked goods. “Say, when was the last time your muffin got smashed?”
“Aine,” Breena said in warning.
I tried to stifle my laugh, but a snort slipped out. Breena’s glare snapped to me, a loaded threat. I raised an eyebrow, half tempted to stoke the fire. Just for entertainment purposes.
Above us, the sky had deepened from orange sorbet to rich indigo. I peered toward the horizon, then stilled.
A flicker. The distant Candela pulsed, and below it, the Scurboga Gate surged with a flash of color that winked in and out like a signal.
Maybe it was a trick of the light? Or my eyesight failing me again.
“Hey,” I said warily, pointing. “Is that normal?”
Aine’s head whipped around. Breena gasped, soft but sharp. They exchanged a dark look, then fixed their gaze back to the gate.
The arch’s glow palpitated, spewing ribbons of color into the air above. Then, without warning, it winked out for the span of a breath, right before flaring to life again. The pattern repeated—flash, blackout, flare—before finally settling into its steady illumination once more.
“No.” Aine’s eyes were wide and unblinking, staring at the gate as if it were a God descending.