Fate's Hand: Book One of The Celtic Prophecy (18 page)

Chapter 23

Pain rattled Brenawyn’s teeth, but she was out of time. She shimmied on the floor until her back hit the wall and she was able to get to her knees. The two acolytes pounced, pushing her back.

“Get the fuck off me!” She writhed, trying to buck off one, her teeth sunk into a grappling arm. He pulled back and slapped her. She shrieked her panic, and a deep crack sounded under her. The two paused to look back at the Vate and Cormac, but the cracking continued. The floorboards exploded around them in projectile splinters. Brenawyn’s heart leapt and she instinctively raised her hands to cover her face, but the wood rocketed away from her. As soon as she realized she was untouched, she wiggled out from underneath. She got to her feet and assessed. The one who had first attacked her and Spencer sat on his haunches, staring dumbly down at his chest skewered with a broken plank. He touched the edge, incomprehension etched on his face. He collapsed to his side, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Buchanan fared better, with only minor abrasions to his face and arms. He once again advanced on her, but this time she was more prepared. She found the window sill, and when he came within reach she leaned back and kicked out with both her feet. He dodged the blow, and caught her one leg behind the knee pulling her off her balance. She went down, taking him with her.

Brenawyn felt it this time, a dawning realization, the wood beam, its thickness and tensile strength. She was the one who splintered the boards! She could do the same to the beam! There was a profound groan from the ruined subfloor underneath them and then a loud crack as the centuries old beams gave. Brenawyn fought for advantage. She knew where she was and what awaited them on the first level. Buchanan hit the gondola shelves first and a metallic rending pierced the air as the shelves gave under the combined weight of the two of them plus floor joists, plaster, and lath.

Brenawyn rolled off as soon as he hit and came to a stop at the base of the glass showcase across the aisle. She still had feeling in all of her limbs, and movement too. She approached Buchanan quietly; there was no movement. She kicked his shoe: nothing. Then she looked up. Cormac was peering down at her with a sneer. “Hold, priestess.”

“Like Hell I will, you bastard!”

He disappeared and loose plaster rained down,
Shit, he’s judging the strength of the remaining floor. Fuck!

She saw him again seconds later as he swung his legs over the edge, twisting and maneuvering his body so he hung by his arms from the exposed beam.

Brenawyn opened her mouth, but the screech that sounded didn’t originate in her lungs. Maggie loped into the storefront from the office brandishing a baseball bat. The small woman mounted the rubble in two bounds and swung for his groin. He dropped like lead onto the heap. She stood over him changing her stance and her grip on the bat to bring it down once, twice—

“Maggie.”

She raised the bat again, and Brenawyn yelled, “Maggie, let’s go! We have to get out of here.”

Maggie looked down at the prone form of Cormac and at the bloodied bat. She threw it away, disgusted with herself. “Oh B, you’re okay. Oh, thank God,” hugging her. “I saw. I saw what he did. No one was paying attention. I snuck up the back stairs. I…I saw. I couldn’t, couldn’t help.” Hysterics threatened to bubble over.

“Maggie, hey, stay with me. There’s no time for you to lose your shit now. Come, find scissors. You have to cut me free.”

Maggie ran for the counter, vaulted over it, and grabbed the scissors. Brenawyn turned, as a scraping heavy gait hit the stairs.

“Oh shit. She’s still there! Brenawyn—

“Cut faster!”

The tape gave with a snap and Brenawyn twisted her arms to rid herself of the residual restraints. “Where’s Leo and Spencer?”

“In the office. B? She was knocked unconscious.”

“Fuck!”
We can’t get to the front of the store now. The only way out is the back. Shit! “
Ok, we have to take her out the back. Let’s move.”

She opened the door as Leo was regaining consciousness. “Nana? Nana. We have to go. Maggie, get her other side. Spencer, here boy. Come.”

“Brenawyn, Pussy Cat, are you okay?”

“No. I’m not okay. I will probably never be okay again. We GOT to move, now! She’ll be down here by now.”

“Where’s Alex?”

“Come on. We have to go.”

Maggie opened the back door and they climbed down the porch steps with little difficulty, but the Vate was there.

“Tis nay use running, priestess. Ye will surrender ta me one way o’ other. This way I’ll make sure tha’ ye doonae suffer.”

“Go to hell, bitch!”

“As ye wish.”

“Brenawyn, Where’s Alex?” Leo asked.

“He’s…dead.”

“How?”

“What does it matter?”

“How did he die, Brenawyn? It’s important.”

“He was, um… he was stabbed in the heart after—

“After? After what? Brenawyn?”

“Damn it! Why is it so fucking important? That woman is trying to kill us.”

Maggie held a hand out to Leo. “His gut was sliced open before…”

“Ah, then it’s up to us. He cannot be of help.”

Leo wasn’t making any sense, the blow to the head the probable cause.

The Vate blocked their way out. She had another one of those vortexes floating above her cupped hands.

Brenawyn put a protective arm in front of Leo and Maggie and stepped out.

“No, Brenawyn. She’s too strong for you. You don’t know what she is capable of.”

“Yes, I do. I saw it upstairs.”

Spencer whined at her feet, and she felt for his head. The contact gave her an idea. She knelt down next to her dog, and taking his head in her hand, turned him to stare in his eyes—a move to assert dominance in the animal kingdom, but wasn’t that what she intended? How did Alex do it? She wished she’d asked. Shifting: Was she able to do it too?

She took her hand off Spencer but he kept eye contact. She felt different. Muscles a bit achy, lengthening? Whatever it was, it felt like she needed to stretch. Yes, that was it. Her muscles were stretching. Her eyesight—sharper; smell—each spot Spencer urinated in the yard and three separate cats, she could pinpoint. Leo’s perspiration; Maggie’s fear.

Brenawyn crouched low as the Vate flew at her. As the hag repositioned her hands to propel the binding spell, Brenawyn snagged it out of the air. Her interlace flared and the vortex slowed, coming to a stop and then switching directions, gaining momentum. The Vate stopped, mouth agape. She tried to turn and run, but Brenawyn had her by the neck. She looked at the vortex and with a slight smile, ground it into the crone’s clavicle reciting:

I bind your magic from causing harm.

I bind your magic from calling the elements.

I bind your magic from healing.

I bind your magic from protecting.

I say this three times for the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

I bind your magic. I bind your magic. I bind your magic.

A collective gasp—Maggie, stunned surprise; Leo, realization; the Vate, disbelief. The old woman faltered and grasped at Brenawyn as she felt her powers drain. “Nay, it cannae be.”

~ ~ ~

From behind the glamoured veil, Alexander Morgan Sinclair stood with Finvarra, Aerten, Caer Ibormeith, and Taranis, observing the scene. Each had an interest in the outcome, but only Alex was spurred to act. “Nay, Shaman,” said Taranis, the goddess of death to whom sacrifice was made, physically held him back, “We will observe.”

Chapter 24

“Brenawyn?” Leo called out. “Brenawyn, honey. We need to go.”

She turned her back on the Vate, “Hm?”

“We need to go.” Leo indicated upstairs with a tilt of her chin. “Deal with Alex’s body. Decide what you’re going to do with her.”

Brenawyn looked down at her arms, the interlace there had started to dissipate. Try as she might though, she wasn’t able to bring it back. It faded further and as it did, her head cleared. She looked about, and frowned. “We can’t leave her here. Someone might come. She’ll have to come with us. We’ll bind her and stick her in one of the rooms.”

Once in the apartment, with the Vate squared and squirreled away, Leo issued orders like a drill sergeant. “Maggie, get the shears, a needle and thread in the kitchen drawer. Brenawyn clear the living room floor, we’re going to need room to work. We don’t have time to waste. He’s been dead for more time than I’d like.”

Maggie ran back in and dumped all that she’d gathered into Leo’s waiting hands as Brenawyn was struggling with the chair to which Alex’s corpse was still taped. She laid it back and the damage was in full view: the horror that had been made of a life. She gulped.

“Maggie? Can you help us or are you going to faint?”

She was brought out of her trance. “I…I don’t know. I want to help, but…” looking down at the corpse, “what are you going to do?”

“First off, Maggie, things are not as they appear,” Leo said this to give assurances. She had no time to spare for histrionics and faintness of heart. Bringing a body back to life was not an easy task, even considering
this
body could regenerate. They didn’t have time to wait until he did. Time was of the essence; who knew when there would be another attack.

“Here, let me.” Brenawyn took the scissors from her hand and went to work on the duct tape, freeing his upper body with three cuts and divesting him of his shirt to get unencumbered access to the wound. “What do you need?”

“Brenawyn, Maggie, look away. This is going to be gruesome.”

“But…”

“Don’t argue. There will be plenty for you to do afterwards.”

Leo fell to her knees beside the body. Making a face, she scooped up the intestines and visceral matter and began to shove it back into the gaping cavity. “Go to the kitchen, one of you, and find the stock pot. Fill it with hot water. Bring it here when you’re done.

She heard Brenawyn rise to do it and give an unintentional dry heave before exiting to the kitchen. “Maggie, thread the needles with double thickness. They’re right behind you on the coffee table.” Knowing she had to give Maggie something to do to keep her mind off the gore, she added, “Do you still have your lighter?”

“Yes, right here in my pants pocket.”

“Thank the gods you didn’t listen to me and quit smoking. Today it’s coming in useful. Once you have threaded them, run the metal through the flame several times. That’s all the sterilization we have time for.” Sterilization was an unnecessary step, blood poisoning, an impossibility for an immortal, but it gave her purpose. Brenawyn reentered, hoisting the filled pot.

“Brenawyn, good. Unfortunately, you’re going to have to look now. I need you to help. I am going to be occupied with sewing his gut closed, you need to heal the hole in his heart.”

“What? I can’t do that. No one can.”

“There is no time for that. Yes, you can, you did it for Spencer. I’m going to walk you through it. In order for you to heal him, you need to access your runes, specifically those for healing. Do you know how to do that?”

“Um, no,” Brenawyn shook her head. Tears glistened in her eyes, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to live up to what is expected, what you expect of me. I have this new knowledge, but no practical experience. Seems like I can only summon when I’m afraid, and then it’s like it’s not me that’s doing it. I’m there, but…”

“It’s okay, honey. It started that way with me.”

Tears spilled, “I almost killed that woman. Oh my God! I did kill John and that other man!”

“All right, Pussy Cat. Calm down and listen to me. You have to put that aside for right now. We need to help Alex. Okay?”

“Yes.” Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, “What is it that you need me to do?”

“You have done this already. I am not asking for more than that. You activated your runes to save your pup the night the two of you were attacked. His wound was fatal, the angle and placement right. You saved him. Constricted the blood vessels, forced the healing of the gash opened by the coward’s knife, and sped the creation of new blood to replace that which was lost. You did that without any knowledge. You have the ability. Put your hands on my chest.”

“What? Why?”

“I am going to activate my runes and I want you to feel what the immediate response is so you can recreate it yourself.”

Brenawyn put her hands on her and Leo repositioned them, one over her heart, the other just under the breastbone. She closed her eyes, instructing her to do the same and they sat there. Brenawyn felt her heartbeat thumping strongly and then an electric tingling making her fingers itch, her eyes shot open and Leo’s runes were glowing.

She held her hands in place, “Relax, and let be.” The itching became more intense and raced up her arms, a glow started in her fingertips, more like the bright translucent skin of a premature infant. She could see the veins and arteries, almost the blood pumping through them by the steady rhythm of her heart. This was replaced by blue luminescent lines interweaving as they shot up the same path as the itching moments before.

“Focus on my heart rate and yours, your breathing and mine, and once they are in sync, take your right hand off of me and place it over Alex’s heart.”

The steady beat of Leo’ heart was reassuring, and it calmed Brenawyn to know that her grandmother’s heartrate wasn’t elevated. In direct opposition, it felt like hers was going to burst through her chest.

“Relax. You’re not going to take your hand off of my heart, it needs to remain there so you can see what one at rest normally feels like. If this was done based off of yours, you’d have him in cardiac arrest when he came to. Not something we want to do. The poor man has been through enough for one evening.

All Brenawyn could do was nod her head in agreement. “Remember what your fingers looked like before the runes started to glow: veins, arteries, delivering blood to the body in pulse with the heart. Imagine it in my body. My blood. Can you sense the vessels? Focus on them.”

In her mind’s eye she saw what Leo described. Other than pictures she seen in biology textbooks, she had never cared much for learning about biological systems, but she had a clear picture nonetheless.

She felt that, on the outside at least, Nana’s skin had a higher temperature from the blood underneath. “Do you feel me getting warmer? That’s because I am causing my blood to move to the surface. You are going to do the same in Alex’s body. This is going to be difficult because the blood has begun to congeal. You have to get it moving again in order to manipulate it. In order to heal the heart.

“Yes that’s it. Don’t worry. Blood welling in the open wound is a good thing. It will get messy from here on—

The living room was a bloodbath. Brenawyn snorted, “Like it’s been pristine up till now?”

“No, but I don’t want to upset you when…”

The blood spurted from the wound, and Brenawyn made a keening cry taking her hand off of his chest.

“Ah, there it is. Okay, I will keep it contained, you concentrate on his heart. Put your hand back on him.”

Brenawyn did as she was told.

“Feel for the hole. Send the vessels to repair it. This is just the same as you did for Spencer. Nothing more. Relax. You’re doing good. Just a little longer.”

Leo felt Brenawyn’s pulse. It had resumed a more normal rhythm, so she took her granddaughter’s hand off her chest, and clasped it. “See, the blood is no longer spurting. That’s a very good thing. Okay, Brenawyn, I’m going to let go of your hand to get the sutures that Maggie has prepared. I will be sewing up the wound to contain everything. Are you okay for me to do this?”

“You’re coming back, right?

“Yes, I’ll just be going there and back.”

Brenawyn nodded, and Leo returned to kneel on the opposite side of Alex. “I’ll be quick.” She bent to her task. Despite the size, Leo whip stitched the hole shut. “It’s not even worthy of a beginning quilter, but it will suffice. He won’t even have a scar.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you’ll see. Rinse your hands in the pot.” She reached for the folded crocheted afghan and placed it over the wound, “Maggie, we’re going to need your help.”

Maggie got to her feet and relief washed across her face when she saw the hideous damage covered. “What do you need me to do?”

“Get the couch cushions and prop up his feet, and wherever you feel comfortable, I need you to place your hands on him.”

“I can’t do what you do, Leo.”

“You don’t have to, you’re alive and that’s enough for this. There are no effects at all for you.”

She hesitated, hands hovering over his ankle.

“Yes, you can hold on there. Brenawyn, you’re going to place your fingers on his femoral artery, behind his knees. I will be doing chest compressions. You did a fine job at repairing the hole. The worst it over.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you’ll see. Do you remember the feel of my blood flowing through my veins? Through your veins?”

She nodded.

“Yes? Good. Now we need to recreate that in him in order to start his heart. Okay, listen, this is very important. We have to start slow and build up, I’ll regulate the pace, but the moment I say to let him go, you must, because I have to be the one to start his heart.”

“How are you going to do that? Do you have a defibrillator downstairs?

“Yes, but its inaccessible now because of the floor’s collapse.”

“Shit!”

“Relax, all will be well.”

Brenawyn took her position, she imagined the blood moving in her own body and willed it to move in the exact same way in his.

“Whoa easy there, relax, it should be a steady increase. Yes, that’s more like it. Keep going. Okay, Maggie, take your hands off his leg and move to other side of the room. I don’t know what the reaction is going to be but I’d rather have you out of the way, just in case.”

Maggie took her hand off of Alex and gave Brenawyn’s shoulder a squeeze before moving to the corner of the room.

“Okay, now you, Brenawyn, but stay close.”

“What are you going to do?”

Leo shuddered, a sharp intake of breath, leaning back on her heels. Alex’s chest lifted off the floor leaving his head and limbs to loll lifelessly. Her hands guided him up as her interlace flared intensely bright. She exhaled, sprang to her feet despite her broken foot and arthritic joints, and bore down on his chest, sending it violently down to the floor. She gave a grunt as she released her magic into him. The interlace faded quickly into his chest, the same pattern oozing through her fingers to cover his chest. When the last had been transferred, she took a stumbling step away and fell against the couch. Brenawyn ran to her, and Leo weakly muttered, “Watch out,” pointing to the floor.

Brenawyn avoided the urine puddle, and her heart sank, panic setting in at its mere presence.

~ ~ ~

“Verra interesting, she is.” Finvarra mused.

“Aye. Tha’ she is. Command o’ th’ elements, healing, shifting.”

“But th’ most intriguing is th’ way she turned th’ Oracle’s spell against her. She shouldnae ha’ been able ta dae tha’. ”

“Because she didna invoke the Mother Goddess?”

“Shaman, has any o’ th’ order been able ta use another’s magic?”

“Nay. No’ according ta record.”

Finvarra nodded his understanding. “Listen and mark my words. Thaur will be consequences.”

Caer reached out to touch Alex and her thoughts invaded his own,
“Tis dangerous haur in this time and place for her. Ye are charged with bringing her back ta train in secrecy.”

“As gifted as the gods ha’ made me, she already far exceeds my own abilities, Caer. Wha’ dae ye wish me ta teach her?”

Aerten interrupted, “Her bonds will be broken. She wants ye ta see tha’ new ones are made. She wants ye ta guard against th’ Order. Thaur are still those tha’ wish ta use her.”

Alex bowed low, “Aye. Yer wish is my command.”

“Then go, answer her summons.”

Caer stopped him to place her forehead against his as if to offer a blessing; but for Alex a stray thought seeped into his mind, which swirled and coalesced as a warning as sharp as if she spoke it aloud.
“Danger surrounds. Trust neither god nor mortal.”