51
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All in all, the Rachainn’s plan was incredibly stupid and I was prepared for the untimely death of each and every single one of us.
But I went along with it. I went along with it not because I thought I could make a difference in the quickly shifting atmosphere of Saoghal, nor because I thought that their plan was going to work or end up successful in any variation of the word.
I went along with it because if I didn’t, if I chose not to, then they wouldn’t try to reason with Raegan. They planned on using me to appeal to some sort of side of him that didn’t exist, to hopefully convince him to stand down once and for all, and I preferred that to the alternative.
Because we travelled with a party.
Not just the handful of Rachainn that had been in the basement while we plotted. Not even a whole pub’s worth. No, we travelled with hundreds. They marched behind us as if it wasn’t a negotiation they were moving towards but a war.
The damning thing was that after the previous fight, where thousands of them had died, the group that travelled behind us still didn’t represent the full extent of the Rachainn’s numbers.
The pixies that had been cast out of Saoghal and sent across the country were vast in their numbers and clever in their hiding.
Even Rory admitted that he didn’t know how many were loyal to their cause.
All that he could tell me was that it was a lot.
As in, more than what resided in Cluaineach.
Which meant that if Raegan didn’t comply with their demands…
Well, let’s just say my immediate slaughter would be nothing compared to what would unfold across Saoghal. Again.
Bringer of Evil was starting to sound a lot more plausible.
“You’re shaking,” Killian whispered as he walked closer to me, his shoulder brushing mine and making Urram squeal and launch forward with his beak.
“I think we’re all going to die.”
“Aren’t you a ball of positivity,” Killian tried to joke, but I couldn’t bring even the smallest of smiles to my face for him.
“I don’t disagree,” he ended up saying after a sigh. “But you know what? I don’t think that’s the worst of fates. I think that living in this world, forcing yourself to fit into someone who you are not, believing something that you do not believe – I think that is a far crueler life to live.”
I shrugged.
“I would be most honoured to enter Mag Mell at your side today, Olivia, if that is what lays before us.”
“You’re really not making me feel better.”
While he words certainly weren’t, that melodious laughter of his that followed might have tugged at the corners of my lips.
“We have a saying,” he began, dropping his voice and making me walk impossibly closer. Urram, so irritated by the occasional waft of Killian’s hair in his face, switched to my other shoulder. “I am less fluent in the ancient tongue, I must admit. But it is: My end is welcome.”
“Killian,” I gasped. “I was only sort of serious before. But you’re freaking me out! I don’t want to die–”
“Shush,” he said through a laugh. “It does not mean that you walk quietly into death, no no. The translation is rough but what it means is that when one achieves their greatest purpose, when their divine task has been completed, a sense of acceptance grows within them. It means that they have done what they were meant to do and now they feel the end of their path approaching them.”
“That’s great,” I scoffed. “Do what the outrageous gods force upon you and then quietly rot until you die. Sounds glorious.”
“No,” he said again through yet another laugh.
“Olivia – you were brought into Saoghal for some reason. I do not know it, you do not know it. Even Raegan, who believes he knows all, does not know it. You have turned the tides once in this conflict. My point is that perhaps this dread that you are feeling – it may be a sign. That you are walking in the right direction. That you are doing what must be done.”
I was silent for a while, simply staring at him and somehow not catching any roots or pebbles beneath my feet. All I ended up coming out with was, “Sometimes you’re really wise and I hate it.”
We both laughed.
“I do not wish to speak of what happened to Raegan, of what I saw—” I swallowed as I tried not to replay it. “But… Killian, they had a fairy with them. Taran.”
Killian’s brow cocked up as he continued along. “But I thought the fairies were working with King Nevan of Speur?”
“That’s what I thought, too,” I sighed. “I fear that there is more at play, here. I fear that something is awry.”
He nodded quietly, his face contemplative.
“The moment the monarchs of Saoghal looked for allies outside of ourselves, that was bound to happen. The fairies are not the most cunning of the fair folk, either. There are many others that, if we are not careful, will tear Saoghal to shreds long before the kingdoms can.”
“What do we do?” I whispered.
“Truthfully? We hope. We hope that we never come to learn who Queen Tonn planned to work with, whose allegiances were sealed in the last breath she took. We hope that King Nevan looked to only the fairies, and none other. And we hope… We hope that Raegan has not made the irreversible mistake of aligning himself with anyone but his own kin.”
“I think I’m all out of hoping, Killian.”
His smile was charming yet too small for his normal boundless joy. “Olivia Loughty will never turn her back on hope.”
Yet again, we both laughed.
It was as we laughed, as that joyous noise bounced around the blades of grass all around us, that I noticed just how quiet it was.
“Killian,” I whispered. “This silence. It was not like this before.”
I remembered all too clearly the hours that lapsed before Saoghal went to war against the Rachainn a year ago. I remembered the strange stretches of silence. I remembered the eerie, untameable way that even the winds around us settled and the world held its breath.
“It’s not like the quiet before the storm, it’s the last breath before drowning.” Killian had said to me when I asked him.
Now, though, it was different. It was silent, save for the crunch of grass beneath our boots and the steady beating of hearts that thudded as one.
But the air it was… It was alive, somehow.
As if the space around us was not filled with anything but tiny, minuscule fireflies that buzzed from side to side and lit Saoghal up in a chaotic vibration.
Killian’s grin split his face. “That is how I know it is not war we move towards.”
I leaned in to him, my voice impossibly low. “Then what is it?”
His face was full of pride, a familiar sort of endearment that meant he didn’t blink as he said, “Change.”
Brian, who led the group several rows up from where Killian and I walked quietly side-by-side, lifted his hand into the air and stopped hundreds of Rachainn from taking so much as a step forward.
“Bring the girl forward,” Brian commanded no one in particular. Rolling my eyes, I slipped out of the unfamiliar bodies all around us and walked to the front of the group, feeling a thousand unwelcome glances in my direction.
I reached Brian just as I realized we had met the Cluaineach threshold. I couldn’t help but to look across its magnificence, to catch the very top of the castle far off against the horizon, and hope that we were not about to flood the rich earth beneath us with blood.
“You are to remain quiet,” Brian snarled at me, his face still a blossoming of various colours from the hit I had managed.
I mimed zipping my mouth and throwing away the key.
I wished I could retract my hatred and anger at Rory for only the rest of the day, because he stepped up to my side and squared his shoulders, nodding down at me. I was still rattling with fear and all I needed was a friend–
Killian took to my other side, his chin higher and his body stiffer than Rory’s.
I knew, deep down, that Killian was terrified of the decision he had made, of the severing of every tie between him and his family and his friends, yet he managed to look strong, to look unwavering, at my side.
And for that, I would forever be thankful.
If our story was to end today, it would end as it began – side by side.
Ten minutes later, we breached the highest hill of Cluaineach and looked down across the villages. The sun, hovering somewhere on its downward descent, bled a blanket of golden power across the world and left little to no shadows around us.
That was when I saw Raegan. That was when we all saw Raegan.
Down the hill, atop Rìoghail, the golden stallion positively glistening beneath the sun that lived and breathed for the two of them.
But at their side was the true indicator as to how Raegan believed this interaction would play out. Because Gliocas, normally a cherry-red Red Macaw with a tail of rainbows, was no more. He took to his true form, to the towering mass of carmine and scarlet, hide thick and scales shimmering.
Urram took to the skies and shifted, a silver menace slamming down next to us just as we began the slow, cautious walk into Raegan’s domain.