Authors: Jennifer Fallon
‘Rónán can’t be
sídhe
, or
Youkai
or any other Faerie race,’ Trása said. ‘Look at him! He looks so human it hurts. And he’s been living in a realm without magic. If he was
sídhe
that fact
alone would have killed him the same way the
Matrarchaí
killed the
Youkai
on this world.’
‘I said
almost
pure,’ Wakiko said. ‘That’s the other thing the
Matrarchaí
breed for —
sídhe
who can operate in worlds without magic.’
‘What’s the point of that?’ Ren asked, thinking there wasn’t much point in being able to wield magic if there was none to wield.
‘They can tap into the Enchanted Sphere,’ Wakiko said.
‘The what?’ Ren and Trása asked in unison.
‘The Enchanted Sphere,’ Wakiko explained impatiently. She was interested in what they could do for her and obviously resented the time taken from that to explain something she clearly thought they ought to know. ‘There is always some magic left, even on depleted worlds,’ she said. ‘It’s pretty thin, but what is left tends to rise and concentrates in a band around the depleted world, which can be accessed if you can reach it.’
‘How high up are we talking?’
Wakiko shrugged. ‘I cannot say, Renkavana. I have only ever been to one world like that, on my way here. The stone circle was located at the top of a building — a building so tall I could never, in my whole life, have imagined mortal man could create such a thing.’
‘You could get higher climbing a mountain, I would have thought,’ Ren said, wondering why you would put such a thing as a stone circle in a building. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to tap into the magic from there?’ He was already thinking ahead to when he found his way back to his old realm; to when he finally found Darragh and brought him home. If there was an Enchanted Sphere like that in his reality, then he might have stumbled on the way home for both of them.
‘I made the same observation,’ Wakiko said. ‘Lady Delphine told me she needed the concentration of mundane life to allow
her to tap into the Enchanted Sphere, which made buildings in cities better than isolated locations higher up, where there wasn’t as much life.’
‘There’s hardly any magical life force in a mundane human,’ Trása scoffed. ‘You’d need … I don’t know … millions of people for them to be of any use.’
‘In the realm I come from, you only build skyscrapers in cities with millions of people in them,’ Ren pointed out.
Wakiko smiled. ‘Skyscrapers? Is that what you call them?’
He nodded.
‘It is a fitting word.’
‘So Rónán is
sídhe
with enough human in him to survive outside the Enchanted Sphere,’ Trása said. ‘Like me.’
‘That is correct.’
‘And how did he get that way?’
Wakiko carefully placed the utensils from her tea ceremony on the
honzen
and sat back on her heels again. ‘If one is born of mixed blood, be it any race on Earth, in any reality, human or fey, one will manifest different characteristics of each race. If a dark-skinned man and a light-skinned woman have two children, one might be light-skinned and the other dark, but they would still be brothers.’
‘They breed for twins who don’t look like Faerie,’ Ren said, perhaps grasping what she meant a little faster than Trása. He understood the principles of genetic engineering, even if it seemed ludicrous to be using the words ‘genetic engineering’ and ‘Faerie’ in the same sentence. ‘I take it the Faerie have no idea?’
‘None at all,’ Wakiko said, shaking her head. ‘The
Matrarchaí
are relentless in their determination to keep the true nature of the psychic twins a secret.’
Trása was listening to Wakiko thoughtfully, but at that, she shook her head. ‘It’s not possible,’ she insisted. ‘Even if I believe what you say about breeding for human characteristics, rather
than
sídhe
features, such a plan would never work. The
sídhe
are long-lived. You don’t think somebody would notice when the Undivided don’t grow old?’
‘I do not know the history of your world, little Faerie, but I’d wager one of my limbs that all of your Undivided have died from accident or injury, rather than old age or illness.’
‘That’s not …’ Trása hesitated and then frowned. ‘Actually, it is true. I can’t remember the name of any Undivided who lived to a ripe old age.’
‘They have to kill them before they live long enough for people to notice they’re not ageing,’ Ren said, a little stunned by what Wakiko was telling them.
She nodded. ‘Had you stayed in your world as the Undivided, you may have lived until your mid-thirties. Then you would have been killed in such a way that everyone would lament your passing and the tragic manner of your death, and the new Undivided would take over, gaining the
Matrarchaí
another ten or fifteen years without close scrutiny.’
‘How does that work?’ Ren asked, intrigued in spite of himself. ‘Neither of the previous Undivided was our father. How can they have been breeding toward a Faerie Undivided who doesn’t look the part?’
‘There is more than one bloodline, Renkavana, and they cross realities at times. The
Matrarchaí
have been at this for a very long time.’
‘But why?’ Trása asked. ‘It can’t just be to have access to
sídhe
magic. They have that anyway, through the Treaty of
Tír Na nÓg
.’
‘In your world, they might,’ she replied. ‘But there are other worlds where the magic is not shared anywhere near so willingly. That is why they need to achieve Partition.’
Trása let out an exasperated sigh. She wasn’t buying a word of this, Ren thought.
‘Seriously? The Partitionists?
That’s
your reason for all this cross-reality breeding and subterfuge?’ She turned to Ren. ‘Don’t you listen to this, Rónán. She’s talking nonsense.’
Wakiko did not seem bothered by Trása’s scepticism. ‘The Partition the
Matrarchaí
is working toward is not a political movement. It is, so I am led to believe by those with magical abilities, more a state of being.’
‘So the
Matrarchaí
are jumping across realities, breeding babies and murdering people like me for a bit of a buzz?’
Wakiko looked at Ren and sighed. ‘You poor boy, you have no idea how this affects you, do you?’
‘I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.’
‘You and your twin are
sídhe
, Renkavana, or
Youkai
or Faerie or whatever else you want to call it. You are bound to them. You may not realise it, but you will do whatever it takes to protect them.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘It’s what you are,’ Wakiko said with a shrug. ‘If you don’t believe me, try killing your
Beansídhe
companion and see how far you get.’
‘Be assured, my lady,’ Ren said with feeling, glancing at Trása who responded by pulling a face at him, ‘I’ve been tempted on more than one occasion.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Wakiko said. ‘You cannot do it. And that is the flaw in the
Matrarchaí
plan to steal the magic on their worlds. The vessels they breed to take it for them, are by their very nature, compelled to protect their enemy, and not humanity.’
‘But if you achieve Partition, you can cut the ties?’ Trása asked, looking thoughtful. She was starting to get it, Ren thought, and she didn’t look happy about what this Norman geisha was telling her. ‘You’d have Faerie prepared to kill Faerie.’
‘That’s where I come in,’ Wakiko said, nodding. ‘And others like me. I am human, you see. Not a drop of Faerie blood do
I own, as far back as you care to go. I was recruited by the
Matrarchaí
to bear a set of Undivided twins.’
‘Because you’re human?’ Ren asked. ‘But if your logic is right, they’d need you to be
sídhe
.’
Wakiko shrugged. ‘I do not know how it works, Renkavana, only that it does. If you breed the Undivided to the point where, like you, they look human but are almost pure Faerie, and then breed those twins again with a pure human, you get Empress, or Emperor, twins — twins powerful enough to channel the magic, but not compelled to protect the Faerie races.’
‘So then you’re free to mass-murder my people,’ Trása said, her ire rising, ‘without the inconvenient need to protect your own kind getting in the way.’
‘That, I fear, is exactly right,’ Wakiko agreed.
‘And that’s what your daughters are?’ Ren asked, putting a hand on Trása’s thigh to calm her down. Somewhat to his surprise, she didn’t bat it away, but placed her hand over his, as if seeking comfort from the contact.
Wakiko nodded. ‘Had I known what was in store for my children, I would never have agreed,’ she said. ‘But I was young and naïve and enchanted by the idea of magic and my mission to seduce myself a prince.’ She took a deep breath that seemed filled with regret. ‘I had visions of being a queen. Instead, I find myself the nursemaid to a couple of demons.’
‘They seem a bit spoiled,’ Ren said, thinking she was a little harsh. ‘My shrink would call it an over-developed sense of entitlement.’ He smiled at her, not sure what else he could do for her. ‘I’m sure they’ll grow out of it.’
Wakiko shook her head. ‘They have shared the
Comhroinn
but have not been allowed to fully access it yet. Once they are given access to that knowledge, they will not be my little girls any longer. They will be the heartless tools of the
Matrarchaí
.’
It was all a bit much to take in, and Ren wasn’t sure what
Wakiko expected him and Trása to do about it. ‘Why are you telling us this?’
Wakiko glanced toward the entrance before she answered. ‘Because Chishihero has received word from
Nara
that the real envoy from the
Matrarchaí
is coming here,’ she said. Then she smiled. ‘Oh, don’t try to look surprised. I knew the moment I met you that you had nothing to do with the
Matrarchaí
.’
‘Why didn’t you betray us?’ Ren asked.
‘Because I need your help,’ she said. ‘When Lady Delphine gets here with the real messenger, she will unlock the
Comhroinn
and my daughters will transform from spoiled children into the monsters they are destined to become.’
‘I’m more worried why Chishihero has said nothing,’ Trása said, frowning, which made Wakiko scowl. She was a mother worried for her children and obviously considered it the only problem worth discussing. ‘She has no love for me, and I’m pretty sure she has even less time for you, Rónán. I would have thought she’d jump at the chance to expose you as a fraud.’
‘She will be planning to,’ Wakiko agreed, lowering her voice. ‘My feeling is Chishihero wants to wait until she has proof and someone powerful enough to take you down when she reveals you are not the real envoy.’
‘The proof being the real envoy,’ Trása said. She turned to Ren. ‘So what do we do?’
‘Wait until the rift opens and get the hell outta Dodge.’
Trása let out an exasperated sigh. ‘That means nothing to me.’
‘I mean we leave. As soon as the rift opens.’
‘You can’t,’ Wakiko said. ‘Delphine will be there. She will not permit it.’
‘What do we do then?’
‘It is simple, Renkavana,’ Wakiko said. ‘You must kill Delphine and anybody who comes through the rift with her.’
Oh
, Ren thought sourly.
Is that all?
‘That will close the rift and we’re stuck here.’
Not to mention the whole killing someone in cold blood thing …
Wakiko shook her head. ‘The last remaining book of
ori mahou
is under lock and key in the Imperial Palace in
Nara
, along with the location of the few
gampi
trees left, from which the paper must be made to open a rift between realms.’ She took a deep breath and looked both of them squarely in the eye. ‘If you save my daughters from Delphine, I will see you get access to everything you need in order to open a rift back to your own reality.’
‘But we have to kill someone,’ Ren said, to be certain he understood exactly what sort of deal she was putting on the table.
‘You have to save my daughters, Renkavana.’ She shrugged and began to pack up her tea service. ‘It may involve killing Delphine and her envoy, or it may not. I have no feeling on the matter one way or another. I just need her to leave this realm and never come back. You are
Youkai
. You are one of the Undivided. You are far more powerful, magically, than she is, I suspect. If you do this thing, I will help you get home. I can offer you no fairer deal than that.’
Ren glanced at Trása who nodded slowly. ‘I’m in if you are. And the lesser
Youkai
will follow if I ask them to.’
He turned to Wakiko, for the first time in his life feeling like Darragh must have when he’d ruled their realm. The unsettled boy who was Ren Kavanagh — indulged son of a rich and famous movie star — seemed to be fading into the distance. He was Rónán, one half of the Undivided, facing a life and death decision he was expected to resolve.
‘How long have we got until they get here?’ he asked. ‘We have some plans to make.’
Logan was standing in the rain outside Jack O’Righin’s house, sheltering under a leafy oak whose leaves were already starting to turn. The Porsche was parked by the kerb with its engine burbling away, the wipers beating a slow tattoo across the glass. The streetlamps were set far apart in this area. Most of them were obscured by the evenly spaced trees lining the street, so it was impossible to make out anything other than Logan’s silhouette waiting for him by the car. There was no sign of his cameraman or any other press. The paparazzi who normally camped at Kiva Kavanaugh’s house next door were gone. It may have been the rain, the lateness of the hour, or perhaps there was some other function tonight which required their presence.
Whatever the reason, Pete was grateful, although annoyed at his brother for trading on their relationship like this.