The Screaming Stone: The Otherworld Series Book 2 (12 page)

At first he did not move as he contemplated whether or not to agree with her requested order.  When his shoulders sagged as he pushed out a deep heavy sigh she knew he had decided to keep his promise.  Not that she really believed he would ever not be true to his word; she just expected a little more resistance considering their conversation.  Nobody wanted to show off their suicide scars.  Although she seriously doubted that he had been out to kill himself.  The trick was going to be proving it to him.  By the time she had psyched herself up to give him her best “your life matters” speech she could think of, no matter what he showed her or told her, he had already relieved his chest of his shirt.

“Oh my,” she gasped in surprise.

She wasn’t embarrassed and couldn’t even muster up the acting skills to act embarrassed.  She was in shock.  No one should look that good, ever.  His bare torso would send any fitness model to running to the gym in shame because Duncan had muscle groups they did not.  Maybe she was bias, maybe it was a Faeriedae, thing whatever it was she had never seen such a well put together male in all of her life; and that was before she noticed the scars.  Lines of white and pink crisscrossed his chest, some thick while others where barely noticeable, they all varied in size, shape and color and added to the beauty that Duncan inherently possessed. 

“Ye forgot there were so many didn’t ya?”

She shook her head.  “No I just forgot how damn beautiful you are.”  He snorted unbelieving in response.  “Really?” she said raising her eyebrows at him.  “Duncan you are a warrior.  There’d be a bigger problem if you did have these,” she said reaching out a hand to touch one.  He grabbed her hand stopping her just before she could touch a particularly violent looking scar that sat dangerously close to his heart.

“That should have killed me.  That’s the worst one,” he said as still holding her hand.

She looked down at her hand and then back up into his face silently asking permission to touch the puckering scar.  Slowly he moved her hand, stopping a breath away from the scar before finally brushing her fingertips along its jagged edges.  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before relating the tale of how this particular scar was born.  It was a struggle to keep her hand still as it wanted to explore every scar he had shown her, and even the ones he quiet possibly had not.

“It was shortly after…” he broke off.  She understood what he meant.  It was shortly after Áine had been taken.  She smiled up at him and nodded her head encouraging him to continue.  “One of the smaller Unseelie kings was tryin’ ta gain some ground in the natural world.  The warrior king he was tryin’ ta overthrow had verra good connections ta the High King and Queen, and he asked for help.  There was also a rumor that the human warrior king had just obtained a queen who bore a striking resemblance ta ye.  Yer father, Manny,” he said rolling his eyes.  “Had been keeping a verra close eye on this mon since he was no’ but a lad.”  He pulled her hand away from the scar but refused to let it go.

“Manny, he said with another eye roll.  “Thought Finn and I could help out the warrior king and keep the Unseelie in check so the three of us set out.  Course the king thought we were just more knights he could add ta his table, he ‘ad a bit of an ego but he was a good mon.  The queen however,” he said with a snicker and a shake of his head.  “Whoever said she looked like ye must not ‘ave had verra good eyes.  Finn took a shine ta her though.  Which of course caused trouble for us; Manny encouraged the fling and the king tried hard ta ignore it, he really was a pratt.”

“Who the king?” she asked confused.

“No,” Duncan said shaking his head.  “Arthur was alright.  It was Manny who was the pratt.”

“Wait,” she said quickly interjecting.  This story was beginning to sound familiar.  “You’re not talking about
the
Arthur, are you?”

Duncan shrugged his shoulders.  “His name was Arthur Pendragon.  I can’t imagine ye would ‘ave heard of him.”

Annie choked.  “Um yes I’ve heard of him.  Pretty much everyone has.  Wait,” she said taking a shocked step backwards.  “Are you telling me you fought with King Arthur, that you and Finn were- what?  Knights of the roundtable, like Lancelot and Gwain?”

“Aye, although Lancelot was a silly name Arthur gave Finn.  Actually,” he said pondering further.  “I think it was supposed ta be a bit of an insult because of his relationship with the queen.”

“Wow,” Annie whispered shocked by the path the story of a scar had taken.  This was just too much to believe.  “We will discuss this later because you have no idea how big this is.  Next you’ll be telling me that my father was Merlin,” she said jokingly.

“That was the name he asked us all ta call him,” Duncan innocently confirmed.

Annie covered his mouth with her free hand stopping him from saying anything further.  “Seriously?!” she said tapping her forefinger against his lips.  “You are freaking me out here.  Why don’t you just skip ahead to how you came by that scar.”

“As you wish,” he said against her finger. 

The sensation caused gooseflesh to form all over her body and she inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm and center her thoughts on what he had just told her and not how badly she wanted him to make her skin tingle like that again.  She removed her hand from his mouth and took another step back giving herself a little breathing room.  She was sure that nothing could shock her anymore.  She had been very wrong.  Her father was Merlin, Finn was Lancelot, she did not want to know which knight of the roundtable Duncan was, and apparently all the myths and legends appeared to be true.  That was a frightening thought.

“It was a particularly bloody battle.  My job was ta guard Arthur.  Arthur’s back was turned, a sword came into view ready ta deliver a death blow and I jumped between it and Arthur.”

“That’s it?” she asked and he nodded his head once.

“That was you trying to die?” again he nodded his head.

“No, Duncan that was not you trying to die.  That was you being a hero,” she informed him.

“I could have parried the attack but chose ta use me body as a shield instead,” he argued.

She shook her head in disagreement.  “I’ve seen how quick you are.  If you could have you would have.  Your body reacts without having to consult your mind.  It instantly knows what to do and how to react.  Your reflexes are otherworldly.  This,” she said placing the palm of her hand over his scar.  “This is a badge of honor, and one you should and will from now on wear with pride.”

He stared down at her unconvinced.  Her stomach chose that moment to be heard.  It rumbled loudly and she realized she had put off eating for long enough.  She was starting to feel nauseous and wobbly.  She needed food, now.

“I will entertain no more talk of your death, or anyone else’s,” she said cutting him off before he could interject.  “We, you,” she said poking him in the chest.  “Are going to take me downstairs and get me some food before I pass out and die of starvation.  One of the reasons I picked this place to stay was not only the proximity to Tara but because they promised one free meal a day.  And I plan on eating my fill and quite possibly yours as well,” she said with a playful wink.

He reached out and took hold of both of her hands and raised them up.  He placed a very tender kiss on both of her wrists causing a delicious shudder to course through her.  Her eyes fluttered close and she inhaled deeply enjoying the way he made her feel.  When she opened her eyes she searched his face and realized he was enjoying the look of pleasure on her face.  She was tempted to put off breakfast just a little while longer until her stomach spoke up again.  She slowly withdrew her hands from his grasp and smiled up at him. 

“Food!” she demanded causing him to laugh.

“Food,” he agreed nodding his head.

         Chapter Eleven

Failinis the Fierce

After a quick change of clothes Annie had all but sprinted down the stairs once the smell of eggs and bacon began wafting into the room.  Duncan had to almost physically restrain her as he was afraid that in her weakened condition she would fall down the stairs and break her neck.  She easily accepted his hand as he helped her down the stairs.  He did not deserve such a woman.  She continuously amazed him.  He had managed to convince himself that for years, centuries that he had been searching for death as much as he had been searching for her.  In the space of a few minutes his whole outlook had been changed and he was grateful for her positive outlook on life.  She was infectious as well as brave, loyal and beautiful; and yet she still looked at him with awe.

He had no idea Arthur was such a well-known historical figure in this time.  Before they had left their rented room she had made him promise not to tell Robert that he and Finn had fought alongside Arthur.  When he questioned her he was surprised by her explanation.

“Because Robert has a big hero crush on Finn and if he finds out that he was also Lancelot he might never be able to speak to Finn again.  Which might not be a bad thing,” she mused.  Duncan could only assume she was referring to Robert’s ability to talk, a lot, about anything and everything.  “Oh,” she added.  “Don’t tell Kat either.  Actually don’t tell any of them, but especially Kat and Robert.  Kat has always thought that Guinevere was maligned by the men who make up history and legend.  She will not look too kindly on Finn if she realizes that
he
seduced her.

Duncan had readily agreed.  His past was not something he cared to talk about so he doubted it would come up in conversation anyways.  Keeping his past hidden from Robert might not be all that difficult if Autie could not find him or worse…he pushed that image from his head.  Robert’s death or anyone’s death for that matter would crush Annie.  He would do everything in his power to make sure that never happened.  He chose to in that moment start focusing on the present, on where he was and who he was with, Annie.  He wanted to enjoy her and what little time they might have left together. 

He glanced across the table at her and laughed to himself as she shoved a third piece of bacon into her mouth.  In the short time he had known her he had never once seen her eat a piece of meat.  Now she seemed to me making up for that mistake.

“What?” she asked with a mouthful of food.

“I was just thinkin’ that I have never seen ye meat, yet here ye are,” he said pointing to the quickly diminishing plate of bacon.  “Eating bacon like it might run off the table.”

The inn keeper and his wife, who sat with them at the large wooden table, snickered into their breakfast.  They had very kindly kept breakfast warm for them even though the other guests had already eaten.  They remained at the table with them keeping them company and sipping a cup of strong tea.

“I don’t think bacon counts as meat,” Annie countered.

“Course it counts lass,” Mr. O’Neal, the inn keeper argued with a friendly chuckle and a wink at Duncan.  “It is pig after all.”

Annie choked and tried to politely spit her food out into her napkin.  “I think I’m done eating,” she said as she reached for her glass of water plastering a weak smile on her face, while Duncan tried, very hard, not to laugh and failed.  His deep chuckle caused Annie to stick her tongue out at him and only served to deepen his laughter.

A loud bark followed by a scratching noise drew everyone’s attention to one of the many doors that connected the rest of the house to the kitchen. “What was that?” Annie asked.

“Patrick,” scolded Mrs. O’Neal.  “Ye told me ye put that dog out last night!”

“I did,” he cried as he quickly jumped up and went in search of the phantom dog.

“I swear you’d tink we were runnin’ a zoo what wit all the animals we had tryin’ ta run amok in the inn last night.  First a mangy lookin’ gray cat then a puppy!” exclaimed an exasperated Mrs. O’Neal as her eyes followed the fleeing figure of her husband.

Duncan and Annie exchange a wary look at the mention of a cat.  “A cat?” Annie squeaked.

“Aye, Paddy found him wandering ‘round the basement last night.  We put him straight out though.  Didn’t want him upsetting the Brownie anymore.”

When Mrs. O’Neal said “Brownie” Annie spit her mouthful of water all over the table and began choking.  “Oh, dear are ye alright?” she asked as she jumped up and started pounding, hard, on her back.  “Put yer hands o’er yer head.”

Annie did as she was told and threw her hands up above her head as she tried to reassure the inn keeper that she was fine while her back was being pounded on.  “Down the wrong pipe,” she managed to squeak out.  “I’m fine, really,” she said half choking and half begging Mrs. O’Neal to stop beating her back.  Duncan hid a smile behind his hand as Mrs. O’Neal gave her one last whack for good measure. 

“Alright then luv?” Duncan asked which earned him a harsh look from Annie.

“Fine,” she ground out through clenched teeth before pasting a smile on her face and turning to speak to Mrs. O’Neal.  “Did you say Brownie?” she asked sweetly.

“Oh, aye ya see that’s how we knew there was a cat in the basement.  Paddy and I heard the tiniest squeal of fright.  When we went ta investigate we found the cat, that’s how we knew we had just got ourselves a Brownie.  You see Brownies are afraid of cats ya know,” she informed Annie giving her a pat on her hand as she sat back down and took another sip of her quickly cooling tea.  “I said ta Paddy you take that thing out right now I won’t have it upsetting any of the fair folk.  And don’t you know that’s how we found the dog!” she said as she made a face and pushed the tea away.  A loud bang drew her attention to the basement door.  She frowned at it before turning her attention back to her two guests seated around the table. 

“Excuse me Mrs. O’Neal, but how did ye find the dog?” Duncan asked curiously.  He knew Knackers would give him an earful when they met up again.  That was unless Rian hadn’t skinned him while he slept.  Not that Knackers did not deserve it; he teased the Brownie whenever given the chance, but if Knackers was missing clumps of fur and hair he would only look ‘mangier’ than he already did.

“Oh, when Paddy went ta put out the cat the puppy just dashed right in!  Took us awhile ta get a hold of ‘em too.  He kept tryin’ ta get up the stairs,” she said with a frown.  “What is that man doing?  Honestly luv,” she said to Annie.  “Ye seem ta have yerself a good man, hold onto him,” she said pointing at Duncan. “Lest ye be stuck with someone like me Paddy,” she grumbled as she rolled her eyes.

Annie smiled shyly at him as Mrs. O’Neal went in search of her missing husband.  When she was out of earshot Annie leaned over the table and beckoned him closer.  “Where do you think Knackers is?  And do you think Rian’s okay?” she asked her blue eyes reflecting worry.

“Aye, tis no’ the first time Knackers has been thrown out of an establishment.  As for Rian, that Brownie is more resourceful than any of us give him credit for.  I’m sure they’re both fine,” he reassured her.

Just then Duncan was assault by the most unlikely thing, a dog.  The over grown reddish colored pup had leapt up on to the table and raced clumsily across it before diving straight into Duncan’s outstretched arms.  The excited puppy began eagerly licking his face as it wiggled constantly out of his grasp.  Duncan struggled to get a good grip on the pup as Annie laughed uncontrollably across the table at him.  Finally he managed to gain control over the dog’s front legs and hoisted him away from his drool covered face.

“Aw, he’s so cute,” crooned Annie.

Duncan examined the mongrel in his hands.  “Cute” was not the word he would have chosen.  The mutt’s ginger colored wiry fur was matted and tangled and his doggie mustache was slanted giving his face a crooked look.  His big spice colored eyes gazed adoringly back at Duncan as his tongue hung out of the side of his mouth.  Duncan’s heart softened.  Whether because Annie found the dog adorable or because it brought back memories of a carefree youth, or because the dog was “cute”.

“There is something about him,” he admitted and was rewarded by a sharp bark as the dog seemed to be thanking him.

“I always wanted a dog,” Annie said with a wistful sigh.  “But da would never let me have one.”

Duncan made a decision in an instant.  “Well you can have one now,” he said handing the oversized puppy to Annie.

“Really?” she squealed in glee as she gratefully accepted all the doggie kisses the pup offered.

Just then a harried looking Mr. and Mrs. O’Neal appeared in the doorway.  “There he is Paddy!”

“Aye I’m no’ blind woman.  It appears as though our guest is enjoying the little fella,” he informed his wife who instantly rearranged her frown into a smile.

“She is isn’t she? Aw cute little bugger,” she crooned.

Duncan snickered as he gave the pup a good scratch behind his ears.  “Honestly he reminds me of a hound I had as a boy.”

“Really?” Annie asked not taking her face away from the puppy love she was receiving.  “What was his name?”

“Failinis,” he replied and the room froze.  “What?” he asked the stunned room that was staring at him like he had said something horribly wrong.

“Failinis?” Patrick asked finding his voice first.  Duncan nodded his head afraid to speak.  “Ye do know that be the name of-“

“Lugh’s dog,” Annie supplied.  Now all the stunned eyes in the room focused on her.  “What?  My da is…”

“A mythology professor,” Duncan quickly finished for her.  “Who’s Lugh?” he whispered in her ear as he took the puppy from her.

“Later,” she responded out of the side of her mouth.  “Thank you Mr. and Mrs. O’Neal for the lovely breakfast.  If you don’t mind we need to get a move on if we’re going to see Tara today.  If it’s alright we’ll take the dog with us that way you don’t have to worry about him getting back in.”

The inn keeper husband and wife team nodded absently at them as Duncan wrapped his free arm around Annie and ushered her out of the inn.

Annie’s mind raced with possibilities.  Did Duncan really not know that his boyhood’s dog’s name was the same as the fierce and loyal hound kept by Lugh?  Coincidences were starting to line up behind Duncan and he didn’t even realize it.   Or did he?

Annie glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.  The puppy which had been constantly squirming until Duncan had taken it from her now lay contently nestled in the crook of his arm.  It was cute.  It was weird. 

“Duncan?” she said sweetly.

“Hmm?” he mumbled as he smiled down at the puppy in his arms.  Alright it was cute.

“Why did you name your dog Failinis?”  The puppy cocked his head to the side when it heard the name Failinis.  Things were definitely getting weird today.

“I don’t know,” he said with a lazy shrug of his shoulders.  “It was just his name.  Always had been,” he replied as though that made perfect sense.  In a strange way it did.  Annie just wasn’t ready to admit that to herself yet.  “Who is Lugh?” he asked distracting her from her train of thought.

“Uh, the High King before my…Manny,” she said checking over her shoulder to make sure the O’Neal’s hadn’t followed them outside.  “The god of light, the god of craftsman, the god of the harvest the god of…well pretty much everything,” she said looking for any sign that Duncan knew who she was talking about.  He stared back at her blankly.  “Didn’t you learn anything in all the time you spent in the Otherworld?” she asked in exasperation.

“No,” Duncan replied simply returning his attention back to the puppy in his arms.  “What about this other Failinis?” he asked as yet again the puppy responded to that name.  Duncan rewarded him with a nice long scratch behind his perky little ears.

Annie blew a stray piece of hair away from her face and prayed for patience.  “He was invincible in battle, he caught any animal he hunted, oh and he could turn any water he bathed in into wine.”

“Sounds like a very clever and useful dog,” Duncan crooned as he gave mini Failinis a good scratch under his chin.  “Water into wine huh?  Never heard of anyone being able to do that before,” he said in all seriousness.