No Time to Cry (Nine While Nine Legacy Book 1) (25 page)

                                                    
    See you soon ~ Iliana

 
~
Chapter Twenty-Four ~

I sit in an idyllic courtyard. The most exquisitely
beautiful courtyard and garden that I’ve ever seen, surrounded by flowers that
I have no names for; listening to music unlike anything I’ve ever heard before,
feeling a breeze tease through my hair. I’m relaxed and feel completely,
finally at home.

The courtyard
and garden belong to a remarkable manor. From where I lounge I can see only the
backside of the sprawling estate, but it is surrounded by other luxurious
gardens and rolling pasture lands that are in turn edged by copious woods that
seem to go on forever.

Birds sing,
butterflies of the most astounding colors flitter by, kissing my cheeks on
occasion. The breeze is soft and slightly warm. The autumn sun embraces me.

I’m enjoying a
drink, something slightly tart and just barely sweet. I would want to equate it
to lemonade, but it’s really nothing like it. It is by far better.

“It’s important
to remember…all you hear, all you see. Commit it to your memory.”

“What about the other
dreams?” I ask the woman. It’s the same woman from the ‘tree’ dream, Uldwynah.

“You’re not
wearing the pendant.”

“Gideon hasn’t
returned, and he’s been gone nearly two weeks already.”

“Hmmm. This is
taking longer than I’d anticipated. Be patient, he’ll be back to you, very
soon. Be sure to have him put that on you then.”

“I miss him.”
Why had I confessed that to her? Shit. I didn’t want anyone knowing that
secret.

“You should.”
She smiles. “Time moves differently in T
iarna
s
and
Réimse
Eile
.
For you weeks, for him mere days. He’ll receive his answers, and you yours…in
time.” She refills my goblet, not a cup or glass, but an actual carved goblet
of some sort of heavy crystal, some variety of beautiful, clear blue stone.

 It reminds me of the pool, the
natural pool from the dream, the iridescent water…Gideon.

I sigh. I can’t help it. I imagine for
just an instant being here with him.

In this perfect place.

No culling, no schedule, just drinking
and eating and relaxing here with him. I realize that the pool is here,
somewhere here, in this land. I know in that same way, that same place that the
glow
comes from.

“Such a tender heart in you.”

“Such a torn up heart you mean.”

“Oh posh! That will heal.” She pats my
hand tenderly.”Now, take a walk with me…we have much to talk about that cannot
wait.” She takes me by both of my hands and leads me through the gardens to sit
on a carved wooden bench under a towering oak. She takes a seat next to me and
gazes into the nearby forest.

“The creatures known only for century
upon century as myth, are coming forward, showing themselves, unveiling in
increments to the human eye, They’ve always been present, always existed. They
are the forerunners of the change.” She glances at me to see if her words are
soaking in. “Humans, mortals, will always un-see or explain away what they
don’t want to see, or what does not make sense to their brains. They are
notorious for it.”

She has quite successfully pulled my
attention back, back from thoughts of Gideon.

“What?” I hear her, but what exactly is
she saying. I understand her, but…really? And at the same time…yes. I get that
too. I want to see them.

How come I haven’t seen any fantastical
creatures of myth and lore? Were they in Seattle?

“The Old Realm will not share with the
new realm. An inevitable conflict will occur.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will. Time. There is much to learn.
Listen well to me. Listen well to Gideon. He has catching up to do, but once he
does, he’ll know how to guide you, teach you.”

“Gideon?”

“Oh yes.” She laughs. “He’ll surprise
you that one. He may come across incredibly stormy and callous with you, but
deep down…you just give him a chance.”

I watch as a leaf, a lone green leaf in
the autumn landscape flutters by my feet on an errant breeze. I lean over and
pick it up. I hold it in my palm, admiring its shape and verdant shade…and
suddenly the leaf is gone and a five dollar bill sits in its place on my
upturned hand.

“Oh! Look there! You’re learning all on
your own, and so quickly!” she claps her hands together merrily, pride shining
in her eyes.

“What?”

I go back to staring in disbelief and
amazement at the bill. I hold it between two fingers and examine it, rub the
paper, feel the blend of linen and cotton, smell it—money has a distinct smell,
it does not smell like paper—it appears to be the real deal.

“Oh, it’s real…in your world. Will not
do you a bit of good here.”

Hmmm…my world. What world
was
I in? Before I can ask she speaks.

“Continue to let the silence guide your
mind.” She pats my hand endearingly. “Now put that away, save it for another
day.”

I push the five note into my coat
pocket. Nifty trick. Could I do it back home?

When I look back up from zipping my pocket,
the terrain has changed and I’m no longer at the edge of the woods sitting on a
bench with Uldwynah, but instead I find myself sitting on a stone ledge
overlooking
Draíochta
ar Linn.

It just
happened. Right there, those words. And I know what they mean. Don’t really
know…but sense it, feel it, that kind of
knowing
. It’s where I was before, in the water, where I sprouted wings. I
quickly reach over my shoulder, twisting and turning to see and feel my back.
No wings.

But I’m wearing
another remarkable ensemble. The top is flowing and made of a similar fabric as
the chemise before, but it’s only a tunic, with fitted sleeves that flare from
the elbow and are slit open from wrist to elbow. It’s a lovely pale silvery
mossy green. It’s paired with buttery suede like pants in a dusky port color
that hug my curves and accentuate my lanky legs. On my feet are mid-calf boots
in a color only slightly darker than the pants. It would be awesome if this
came home with me.

I stand up to
wander the woods—wondering why I’m here and where Uldwynah has gotten off
to—the fiery bursts of the raining leaves beckon to me.

I stop in the
middle of a circular cluster of trees and look up marveling at their splendor
and loftiness. I can see stars in the velvety blue of the sky above. I see
stars falling into and among the branches of the trees. But they’re not stars.
They dance and bob about and make me smile. I know what they are, what they’re
named…but I can’t recall at the moment.

Arms wrap around
me from behind, encircling my waist. I spin, startled from my reverie.

“You’re safe
here.” It’s Gideon. Gideon is holding me in his arms. My heart and stomach
flutter in unison. He kisses me.

Gideon kisses
me.

No hesitation.
No warring of emotions.

I like it here.
I never want to leave. Safe in his arms. In his kiss. A kiss, the first kiss,
that makes my limbs weak and my heart nearly burst.

Then he’s gone,
my lips go cold. His sudden exodus shakes me. No kiss. No arms secure around me
and snug. I’m alone. More alone than I was before he appeared.

But…through the
trees I see a procession, a silver mist flows through the woods with them.

“They are the
An Bunaidh Naoi.
The Original Nine.” I turn to see Uldwynah is with me now. “Oh, the treachery
of the times, the betrayal. You must prepare. You must be ready for what is to
befall.”

I watch as they proceed through the
forest.

They are painfully beautiful. Something
tugs in my heart, beckons to my blood; something quickens, comes alive deep in
my mhésen, it brings tears to my eyes. I long to be with them; traveling with
them through these woods.

“Nine will Rise,

Nine will Fall,

the Old shall replace the New,

the New shall become the Old”

“What’s that?” I ask as I watch them
disappear beyond a stand of trees, that
something
pulls at me
relentlessly.

“
N
aoi
C
é
N
aoi
O
idhreacht
…
The
Nine While Nine Legacy.” She gazes at me steadily, reading me. “Your legacy,
dear.”

“I don’t
understand.” I say that way too often these days. I used to understand pretty
much everything in my life…not these days. I feel all spinny-headed again, just
like at the café, just like before I fell into Gideon’s arms that night—when I
heard that language for the very first time.

I can hear some
of them speaking in the distance. It is that language, so similar to what
Gideon, all of the Bháis speak, but more, it’s more, it’s older, ancient. It
feels ancient and I can feel its pull, its power, in my bones and blood. And it
feels like home. I feel tears on my cheeks. I reach up surprised by them. I
look at Uldwynah, taken aback by this reaction.

“Oh,
L
ómhara
, it is home.”

The dizziness
takes me.

When I come to,
I’m at Elysium, back in my jeans and Henley thermal T—bummer…I really wanted
that outfit from the woods. I’m in my second favorite room, not Gideon’s room,
but a public room towards the back of the repurposed house.

I’m by myself,
reading a book. I don’t recall picking it from the nearby shelf, but
nevertheless, here I sit reading it, reclined quite comfortably on a vintage
‘30s sofa of faded burgundy. I flip the book over to see the title—it shifts.
The words, the letters move. I can’t understand them. First it reads,
T
aisteal
ar an Alfar,
then settles on
B
ronntanas
do Beira
, before shifting back to
the former.

I write them
both down in my notebook on a fresh page, to try to research later. I tear it
from my notebook and stuff it in my jacket pocket.

I watch the rain
pattering down through the trees outside the bay window. The couch faces it
directly, leaving my back to the rest of the room, which still remains devoid
of any other patrons. I find it strange that such a lovely and inviting room is
empty on such a busy night.

“Milseachd.” His
voice purrs into my ear. I had not heard him come into the room.

Gideon.

He puts a hand
under my chin and tilts my head back to look at up at him. Oh, to just look at
him. My head rests on the couch back, he leans over; his closeness makes me
crazy, makes my heart race like crazy. His eyes, those amazingly deepest of
blue eyes, move from mine and lock on my lips. The heat in his eyes
intensifies, makes my breath catch.

“I missed you,”
He rumbles softly as he covers my mouth with his.

~ Chapter Twenty-Five ~

As soon as the coffeemaker stopped its chugging and sputtering
I poured a much needed, huge mug and settled at the dining table with my
laptop.

Last night had
been rough. And strange. Yet oddly liberating. After a night like that I was so
glad, so thankful, to have the entire day off.

No culling, no
Liam.

When I’d first
woken up I’d found a fresh five dollar bill and a scrap of paper with the words
T
aisteal
ar an Alfar
and
B
ronntanas
do Beira
scrawled
on it. To say I had been freaked out was putting it lightly.

And my lips
missed Gideon.

Who was
Uldwynah? How did those items get next to my bed? What had she meant about ‘my
legacy’?

I spent the
whole day pondering those dreams, and online searching to find the meaning of
those words I’d heard, and the words I’d written down. It was time for some
serious Googling. Time to see what answers the internet might offer up. The
sites I found and the information they offered did little to satisfy my needs,
without the proper spelling, it was absolutely impossible. Even with the two
sets of words I had been able to write down, I only managed to find something
about ancient Norse and Elves. Nothing that could help.

When I finally
gave up on the research, I put the strange night to good use and wrote about
it. I typed a couple of new chapters over the course of the day, and did some
editing. Liam would be so pleased. Not.

It was selling
pretty well for being new and me a ‘new author’. I had a few reviews already
and the readers couldn’t wait for the next installment. They were even asking
if it would be issued in print anytime soon. Maybe I would.

I tried calling
Serena a few times throughout the day, but she wasn’t around. She had not come
in to work, Carla had informed me.

Should I presume
that she had gone home with Liam? If so, was she still with him? I cared even
less today than last night, since the dreams. I think they may have freed me
from my feelings for Liam…not that it left me with anything. Just because
‘dream’ Gideon missed me and kissed me…meant nothing in real life.

When dinner time
rolled around, I was way past tired of being cooped up in my apartment. I’d
been pacing, talking to myself. Sadly, pathetically, fantasizing about Gideon;
about the dreams, his kisses, his voice.

I had to get
out.

I held my cup and plate balanced carefully in one
hand

 and tried
the door knob. Locked. No one was in the Bháis room. I casually wandered to the
back room, my other favorite room.

It was unused,
clear of people. I felt my head whirl inside, in that déjà vu kind of way. My
favorite room. No patrons. My preferred couch available, the one that faces the
bay window. The window with the trees, that rain was currently beating down
through. Just like the dream. If only! I felt a shiver take a tour up my spin.

I settled into
the softly worn cushions of the retro sofa, feet propped on the coffee table,
and opened my notebook on my lap to write. I wrote while I nibbled. Got a
refill on my coffee after a while.

 The night
was wearing away and still no one came to this particular room. It was almost
as lonely as being at home, but at least I had the comfort of having far off
voices and activity in the main room to alleviate some of the absolute silence.
I had still not heard from either Liam or Serena.

“Draghail.” I
heard him say as he entered the room behind me. Gideon.

Oh, to hear his
voice…in real time, not dream time. My heart did a little leap, breath caught,
and I couldn’t help but smile. For a moment, just the ever-so-slightest moment,
I dared to hope he’d ease my head backwards, but he walked around the couch and
sat in the chair to my right instead.

“I hear you’ve
been busy.” He crossed his legs,
steepled
his fingers
under his chin.

I hoped I still
looked as good as when I’d left my apartment. When had this happened? How had
this happened? Gideon. Why Gideon? I felt incensed.

“Of course I’ve
been busy. It’s been a couple of weeks.” I pointed out to him.

“Michael tells
me your culls have been surpassing perfection.” He looked too serious.

“I suppose.” I
shrugged. I was well aware that I was doing it differently, that something had
happened, changed in me, causing me to perform differently. But I was better,
more efficient. As if I’d been born to it. Not died to it.

“Let me preface
with I’m not here to argue with you—”

“
But
…?” I
cut him short. It had sounded like it would be followed by a ‘but’.

“
But…”
He
gave me a sharp look. “I’ve heard you’ve been writing again. And publishing
online. Interesting topic.”

He did
not
sound interested. In fact quite the opposite. His eyes glowered, his jaw
clenched ever so slightly. A big one was coming. “Gideon...” It was late, I was
tired. And I didn’t want to fight with him, and I imagined this could be a real
torrential one if I wasn’t cautious.

I also found
myself not wanting to disappoint him. Did I dare show him the necklace, tell
him about the dreams. He knew I was writing. He’d read it? How much? Or had
Liam perhaps only told him about it? Couldn’t take the chance, diversionary
tactic was the solution.

 I’d
reached over to the arm of the couch while he’d been talking, had dug into my
coat pocket and now clutched the pendant in my hand. It was warm, yet cool and
soothing, the same as the water of the
Draíochta
ar Linn.
Without further thought to deter me I
went ahead and said, “Will you put this on me?”

I dangled the
necklace from my fingers for him to see. I
knew
it would garner a
reaction so intense that the topic of my writing would be shoved quickly to the
back burner, along with my new culling expertise.

He leaned
forward to see what I held, and froze. His eyes widened then narrowed. They
traveled from the pendant to my face and back again.

He opened his
mouth to speak, then clamped it shut, his lips tightened, thinned. His face
turned ashen. Even like this he was darkly, forcefully attractive.

I wanted to tell
him everything. Where I’d been. What? Where I’d been? I mean, about the dreams.
No. Not just dreams. I didn’t believe that anymore, that they were all merely
dreams. She said he would have the answers. When he came back he’d have the
answers I needed.

“Where did you
get that?” He was solemn, serious. Still so very still and pale. Not just
lacking in motion, but as though every cell in his body was on pause.

“The woman in
the dream, Uldwynah.” I watched him closely for his reaction. “She gave me this
when I first met her. The next time I saw her, I managed to turn a leaf into a
five spot. And she told me about a Legacy…the Nine While Nine. She called it
something else too, but I’m not very good at pronouncing it.”

His eyes flared,
with a look of anticipation at first, but that quickly morphed to one of
concern.

 “I have so
many, too many questions. I need the answers.” I skirted the topic at hand. “I
need help understanding what’s happening. It’s not…it’s nowhere near as simple
as you laid out for me. There’s something more happening. And I need you…”

 
I need
you

“…
to
tell me what it’s all about. No more looks between you and Liam like
you’re…holding back information from me, or that you don’t know what to make of
me. Like I’m…I don’t know.” I fell back into the couch exasperated. I was
grasping for the right words. And at the same time the words from the dream
were pounding through my skull.
N
aoi
C
é
N
aoi
O
idhreacht
…
Draíochta
ar Linn
…
Réimse
Eile
.
 

 “Oh, and I
saw a book, there were words on it,
B
ronntanas
do Beira
and
T
aisteal
ar an Alfar.
” I handed him the scrap of paper, from
the dream. I’m sure I butchered the pronunciation, but I did my best. “Oh, and
another night, there was this beautiful pool, surrounded by trees that just
burned with color, and the stones in the water—oh, the water actually
glittered—but the stones, they looked so much like this one, and—”

“I need to get
you home.” He stood. “Gather your things please.” He reached for my hand,
pulled me up from the couch.

It was for the
best that he interrupted and I went no further, the next part of the dream had
been him, he was there, smoldering with want for me, burning as brightly in his
eyes as the trees were aflame with color. Then there had been the wings...

 “She said
you should put this on me. That you should be the one to clasp it.” He tugged
me to the exit as he pulled the necklace from my hand and pocketed it. “Hey,” I
protested, but my hand in his felt especially good tonight, so I didn’t fight
it at all. “She gave that to me. It was made for me.”

“When?” he
growled.

“Couple of weeks
ago, right after you disappeared.” I had to get that jab in.

We stopped on
the sidewalk near his car. My hand was still clutched in his warm and strong
one.

“Where were you,
really?” He kept his voice low.

I smiled. He’d
love this part.

“In a dream. It
was an ethereal place…otherworldly…beautiful could never be a good enough word.
A giant tree at the edge of a forest. A house was built into it, into the side of
the actual tree, Gideon. I only went up top, to the roof portion, I didn’t get
to see inside, but the roof took my breath away. The view, the things she had,
the way it was carved into the flesh of the tree and yet the tree thrived as if
the house itself had grown there, just always been there.” He just stared at
me. “I’m not kidding. I know how it sounds…but she did in fact give
that
,”
I gestured at his pocket that held
my
pendant, “to me…in the dream. A
dream Gideon.” I cocked my hip to one side and placed my hand on it. “So, how
did it end up in my pocket? Can you tell me that? My mind’s pretty open to
possibilities lately. But I’ve never brought anything back from dreams.”

He said nothing,
placed me in the black leather passenger seat and said not a word on the drive
to my apartment. I didn’t needle him any further, let him stew on all that for
a bit. Besides, something in the set of his body, his face, kept me from saying
anymore as well. He caught me studying his face a couple of times, turned to me,
but still no words.

But that look
set my heart racing.

As we walked through my courtyard his silence was
ongoing.

“Gideon?” He
turned to me. “Have you ever seen such a huge cat?” I think I caught him off
guard with the question because it had nothing to do with anything. He looked
startled, pleasantly surprised. I think I almost saw a smile crack.

His eyes moved
to where I was looking. The big ol’ Tom cat, the fellow I’d dubbed Brom Tom,
that extremely—actually, oddly large—scruffy-tough looking, dark ginger tabby,
was sitting in the garden directly beneath my window. I’d seen him on several
occasions now, sometimes in places that were rather surprising. I’d seen him
near the pub that Serena and I frequented, as well as the Snug, and at various
places around the neighborhood. I’d seen him outwardly following me on two
separate culls.