Chapter 37
The next two days flew by in a crowded blur. Hundreds of supernatural beings had gathered to be part of the All Hallows’ celebration and to witness the Battle of Birthright that Agnus the Betrayed had prophesied as she’d burned, twenty-one generations past.
The spectrum of the magically powerful gathered on WildLand was extraordinary, and it was not lost on me as I was introduced and presented.
Feldema was still imprisoned underground.
I wondered more than once if she could hear the festivities and felt bad for her.
She had waited for this day most of her life, secure in her belief that she would take her rightful place as the High Priestess.
Then I show myself and in less than a year, her world falls to pieces.
I wondered how she felt as she sat alone in a cell instead of indulging in all the feasts and grandeur of an All Hallows’ to match no other in the history of WildLand.
I had tried to speak to her again, but she sat with her back to me and ignored me completely. I couldn’t say I truly blamed her.
All the pomp and circumstance brought me an understanding of Foras’s statements about corrupt power.
I personally was uncomfortable being ushered around and praised for greatness I hadn’t proved, but if one was drawn to this kind of power, it would be easy to abuse and misuse.
I tried to be gracious and take the compliments and praise as humbly as possible and declining all of many promised gifts if I prevailed.
More than once, I had to lean on Jordan and let him navigate me to more neutral ground among my allies.
Abbey interceded to relate the tale of the trip to Thule, which had come to be called Coyle’s Return.
Of course, my father was there, and almost back to normal health.
He beamed and found old acquaintances and friends among those gathered.
I’d had a couple of close calls by getting too close to Tynan, but Cliona managed to get in the way and distract him. It was as if everyone around me was afraid the spell would be easily broken by a word or accidental touch between us.
I reached for him once. Almost took his face in my hands and begged him to remember me.
Jordan stepped in between us strategically.
Diverting Tynan’s attention. All the while, Jordan did his best not to show jealousy toward Tynan.
Not particularly easy for a Demon. But his extra attention when Tynan was near was more comforting than he would ever know.
Tynan still held a place within me, his own magic part of me, but I remained convinced it was for the best that we were not bound eternally.
I missed him, and being this close was more torturous than waiting for this to be over.
I turned my attention to keeping it all in some sort of perspective. I spent most of my time trying to figure out what I was going to do about all the things that could come during the battle.
Doran and Bevin had quit giving advice and opinions, but their silence didn’t help either.
I was still sure the battle, now just hours away, would be a disaster.
Doran’s last bit of advice was to follow my instincts.
“They are all you have when it comes down to it,” she’d said.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Foras’s comment that I had all I needed in my head also echoed over and over again, even in unsettled dreams.
The last formal dinner on All Hallows’ finally arrived.
Abbey’s Imps had produced a fabulous feast of candied pheasant.
The meet room was wonderfully decorated in purple and gold and illuminated with candles floating gracefully in the air.
Somehow, the room looked bigger than it ever had, but even so, tables extended out of the room and well into the formal courtyard beyond.
I had a hard time concentrating on the polite conversation.
A coven leader out of London was speaking to me from across the table, her pretty round face lighting up as she spoke of all the Witches and the new emergence of Wicca in London.
“It’s getting close to a time when we will be accepted, my lady.
There are shops of all kinds that line a particular area in the city of London proper and they specialize in the magical and the occult.
” She dabbed her chin with a vibrant purple napkin.
“There is one in particular that even caters to voodoo. They carry such things as dead men’s ashes and Witches’ voices. I’m sure it’s all nonsense…”
She kept talking but I had stopped listening once those words left her mouth.
Witches’ voices hung in a fog in my head.
I touched Jordan’s thigh to interrupt a conversation he was having with a Werewolf on his left. I whispered in his ear, “Did the dead Witches have their tongues missing?”
He gave me a strange look I couldn’t read. “One was missing part of her larynx, but the others were too damaged to know if something was missing. But tongues—I don’t think so. Why?”
“Nothing.”
He squeezed my thigh in return, left his hand there and went back to his discussion of some type of weaponry.
What did that mean? Witches’ voices. I knew it was important. I just couldn’t put it together. The pretty Witch kept talking and Doran seemed to be listening to her, but she was watching me.
I hadn’t eaten, I couldn’t. I could only move things around on my plate and worry.
By now, they would have brought Feldema up and started to get her ready.
Her powers would be restored once she left the warded cell and I was nervous about that.
Would Nessum give her all his powers for the battle?
And what about Karackos? And Nessum himself?
The dinner seemed to last for hours. As the full moon settled high in the night sky, Jordan escorted me back to my chambers to prepare for the fight.
How things had changed, I thought. I looked in the mirror and saw the old version of myself. I no longer recognized the mousy hair and sad eyes that were all part of that old life. I had been alone.
I blinked and was back to Keena in the mirror, with the wild red-and-gold hair, the gleaming golden eyes.
The fighting leathers, now familiar in fit and form, like a comfortable set of pajamas, clung to me in representation of the battle.
The black leather rig strapped over my shoulder and around my waist was part of who I had become.
My birthright was the warrior Witch, defender of the Kith, protector of humanity and conduit to bring those two worlds together. My power flared slightly, warming me.
I closed my eyes and tried to back away from the situation and put all the pieces of information floating in my head together. There had to be a bigger picture.
Nothing.
I visualized my powers and felt that familiar fire in my belly. It was comforting, that spot, the place that brought forth my powers, the place where I was both Witch and Demon, that part of me that made me who I was.
“Your weapons are ready,” Jordan said from the door.
“I need a moment alone with him, Hogan.” Hogan finished braiding my hair back and left the bathroom. Jordan came in and closed the door behind him to shut us out of earshot of the others who waited in my bedchamber.
He took my face in his big hands and kissed me, letting his lips lightly brush mine. “God speed,” he whispered.
I put my hands over his. “I love you, Jordan,” I said, looking him in the eyes. “I know I’ve never said it to you, but—”
“I know,” he said with his usual gruff arrogance and opened the door. “Time to go.”
I followed him out of the bathroom and let him put on my blades, checking and rechecking the sheaths and harnesses.
When he finished, he stood straight, hands on his hips.
I saw the tiniest of cracks in his emotional armor.
His chin quivered for an instant before he could reign it in.
My throat tightened. He gave me a slight dip of his chin. A nod of approval. “You got this.”
We’d said it all before. But. If this is the last chance.