Destiny Descending Page 8

  “Zank goodness,” Kirill whispered and clutched me to his chest. “You conquered your beasts.”

  “I had some help.” I reached for Teharon and squeezed his hand gratefully as I rubbed my cheek against Kirill's. “Thank you. It was lucky that you were here.”

  “I guided more than I healed,” Teharon protested. “You controlled your beasts yourself, Vervain.”

  “Still, thank you.” I looked around at the other men on their knees around us. “I'm okay, but my star is broken.”

  “Again?” Azrael asked in horror. “How?”

  “I think it was Marduk.” I looked at Viper.

  “That flash,” Viper whispered.

  “Marduk was wearing the Tablet of Destinies beneath his shirt.” I nodded.

  “That psychotic fuck,” Viper growled. “He had that thing beneath his shirt? He just goes around wearing it all of the time?”

  “No, he was prepared for us, remember?” Odin said grimly. “Marduk only wore the shirt so we wouldn't see the Tablet and suspect a trap.”

  “But the Tablet of Destinies doesn't work on you,” Viper argued.

  “It didn't because I didn't have a destiny,” I corrected.

  “But she does now,” Teharon said softly. “And it's in danger. My magic couldn't stop the break nor can it heal her star now.”

  “Chyort voz'mi,” Kirill murmured.

  “What's that?” Viper asked absently.

  “It means; oh, shit,” I translated the Russian. “And yes, this is bad on so many levels. My star, first of all. It broke once before and it took a lot to heal it.”

  “What exactly?” Viper leaned forward. “How do we heal your star, Vervain?”

  “That's the problem.” I grimaced. “My mother's essence healed it before, but that essence is still inside me—it's what calmed my beasts—and it's not healing my star this time.”

  “Calmed your beasts?” Viper asked, looking utterly lost.

  “My magic is held together by the Trinity Star,” I explained. “Three trinities brought together to form a nine-pointed star. The Star strengthens them through unity and keeps my beasts from fighting. Without it binding them, they don't get along so well. I literally have a feline and a canine inside me, along with a hungry dragon who's an equal opportunity killer.”

  “A dragon you can't release now,” Trevor said urgently. “To do so might hurt your other animals.”

  “Yes, I realize that,” I said petulantly. I instantly regretted my tone. “Sorry, Honey-Eyes, I'm still a little out of sorts.”

  “It's okay, Minn Elska.” Trevor took my hand. “We'll figure this out. We'll find a way to fix it.”

  “My star was already weakened by setting everything to rights.” I shook my head. “I think that's why it was so easy for the Tablet to break it. Marduk wasn't even directing the magic at me, it acted on its own to defend him.”

  “Maybe that's a good thing,” Re suggested. “If the Tablet had been fully directed at you, you could be dead.”

  “No, that's not how it works.” I leaned wearily against Kirill, and he took my weight with an arm around me. “The Tablet alters destinies, it doesn't simply kill.”

  “Then why did it attack your star?” Odin argued.

  “Her star is her destiny.” Trevor met Odin's stare somberly. “Without it, she can't fulfill her fate.”

  We all went silent as that settled in. Did that mean I had lost my fate again?

  “Can he keep hurting you now that the Tablet has touched you?” Re's voice held a note of panic.

  “I don't think so.” I bit my lip as I tried to remember my previous interaction with the Tablet. “When we fought before, Marduk had to be close to me to direct the energy of the Tablet at me. I remember him touching the Tablet and chanting as he focused on me. Today, I was touching the Tablet, and it blasted both of us apart.”

  “So, proximity affects its power,” Odin mused. “Okay; that's a relief.”

  “A minor one,” Teharon said. “While I was trying to heal her, I searched for the invading magic. I felt only the barest hint of it, but it was enough to sense its power. Ancient, enormous power. That Tablet wasn't created by one god but by a group of them. We should avoid becoming its target at all costs.”

  “It's a little late for that,” I grumbled as the men exchanged worried looks.

  “We need to talk to the Fates,” Trevor announced.

  The other men nodded. All except for Viper.

  “Who are the Fates?” Viper asked as if he were getting tired of having to ask so many questions.

  “You'll see soon enough.” Odin leveled his stare on me.

  In the night, the beauty of Odin's eyes was hidden, their color as dark as the pall that hung over us.

  Chapter Twelve

  My men wanted me to go to Faerie before we went to see the Fates—if anyone could help me fix my star, it was Faerie—but I waited till morning. I was simply too tired to go anywhere after suffering through the destruction of my star. Normally, I'd use my Ring of Remembrance to travel to Faerie before anyone woke. With the way I used it—to take me backward or forward to the last time I left a realm—I could return before anyone even knew I was gone. But I didn't want to do that this time. We were all so unsettled by the Tablet. So, I slipped out of Odin's arms and went to make breakfast while I waited for the rest of my family to wake up.

  I was flipping a pancake when Alaric, the Consciousness of the Void, spoke in my mind.

  Faerie can't fix you.

  I flinched, splattering the edges of the pancake when I dropped it too quickly. “Damn it,” I growled. “Hey, Al, how you doing? It would have been nice if you had shown up last night. You know; when my star was shattering.”

  I was a little busy trying to find a way to stop it.

  “Oh.” Well, that told me. “I assume you didn't succeed.”

  That tablet is made with stone from Atlantis, he grumbled. It's old magic; very difficult to circumvent.

  “Atlantis?” I asked in surprise. “Teharon said it was created by several gods.”

  I don't know if it was enchanted by several gods or one extremely powerful goddess.

  “You think Tiamat made it by herself?”

  She was the head of an immense pantheon at a time when magic was stronger within humans and Gods were not diminished by waning worship. Yes, I think she could have created it alone; a vessel to hold a portion of her power safe. Possessing it is supposed to impart rulership. Dominance.

  “Yeah; I know. The owner of the Tablet is supposed to rule the Universe.”

  Yes, well, we know the Tablet isn't quite that powerful. That being said, it grants its possessor a certain amount of immunity and protection. You encountered its protective measures yesterday.

  “That's a hell of a ward,” I muttered.

  A ward isn't sentient.

  “You're saying this stone tablet has a mind?”

  Not as you're implying, but it does have a form of intelligence. Like an ancient computer, I suppose. It can react to certain stimuli. I've been studying it, trying to figure out how to reverse what it's done to you.

  “And?”

  And the only way I can see to do that is for you to gain possession of the Tablet. You need to steal it, Vervain. Once you have the Tablet of Destinies under your control, you can command it to fix your fate.

  “Sure. I'll just sneak into Marduk's bedroom while he's sleeping and snatch it.”

  He's sleeping now. Although, you'd have to take Torrent with you; Marduk has laid some wards since yesterday.

  “Hold on.” I slid the pancake onto a plate and then just stopped to stare at the open air before me. “If you can spy on Marduk, why haven't you helped me with enemies in the past?”

  First of all, you needed to fight those gods; it was your destiny, and I never interfere with such situations. This is not destiny; it's the opposite of destiny. Secondly, I can't just find people on a whim. I need something to focus on. Something that will act
as a marker to help me continually locate them.

  “Something like an ancient stone tablet?”

  Now, you understand. As long as Marduk carries that tablet, I can find him. You, however, are mine. I've been with you from your very first breath, and I can find you anywhere.

  “That's actually comforting.”

  It should be. You have immense forces backing you, Vervain. It will be all right.

  “Just as long as I steal the Tablet,” I grumbled.

  Yes. It's far too dangerous to be in Marduk's hands. That man is a monster.

  “So I've gathered.”

  And you've woke the beast. He's obsessed with you. He won't stop until you're dead, Vervain.

  “Which means that I can't merely steal the Tablet, I'll also have to kill him.”

  I highly recommend it.

  “All right.” I poured more batter into the pan. “Watch Marduk for me, Al. I still want to go to Faerie. I need to tell Arach what's going on.”

  Don't tarry in the Faerie Realm long, Vervain. Alaric's presence faded.

  “Who are you talking to?” Odin hugged me from behind and kissed my cheek.

  “Al.” I nuzzled against him, his morning stubble grating lightly across my skin. “He's watching Marduk for us.”

  “Does he have any thoughts on your star?”

  “He says the only way to heal it is to steal the Tablet and use it myself.”

  “Ah,” Odin murmured.

  “Ah?”

  “I thought as much. I was hoping there might be an easier way; a way that didn't involve us coming into contact with that thing.”

  “Me too.”

  “Go to Faerie.” He took the spatula from me. “I'll finish cooking while you're gone.”

  “I was going to wait until the others got up.”

  “Better to be gone and back already,” Odin argued. “I'm awake, and I know where you're going. Go on, sweetheart. I want to hear what Faerie has to say about this.”

  Faerie, just like Alaric, is a consciousness; a sort of sentient, spiritual energy. She's the Consciousness of Tír na nÓg; the elemental realm of the Fey. Faerie's just as old as Al, but she's confined to her realm; bound to the Source of Fey magic. She's also the first one who explained my star to me. Despite what Al said, she might know a way to heal it.

  “Okay.” I kissed Odin's cheek and shifted out of his embrace. “I'll see you in a minute.”

  “In a minute,” Odin repeated with a grin.

  I asked my ring to take me back to Faerie. In particular, to a minute after I'd last left. My body faded into pure energy and zipped through space and time to reform in my bedroom in Castle Aithinne. My Dragon-Sidhe husband was sprawled across our enormous bed, just as I'd left him. The wrought-iron posts curved up and over him, holding midnight-blue curtains that formed the perfect frame for his exotic beauty. Arach's crimson hair flowed over the pillow beneath his pale cheek like freshly spilled blood. Matching scales lay scattered at his temples, drawing my eye down the sharp line of his cheekbones to his predator grin glinting with fangs. His dragon stare glowed briefly as it ran down my body. I couldn't help doing the same to him; letting my stare wander over that sleek, powerful chest to the bulge in his lap, poorly-hidden by the thin sheet.

  “Come here,” Arach growled, low and sensuous.

  I started for him in a daze, forgetting the very reason I'd gone to Faerie. All I could think about was getting my hands on my husband as fast as possible. Arach was too gorgeous to exist; he might disappear if I didn't hurry.

  Hey, snap out of it, you two pervs! Faerie shouted in both of our minds. We've got problems!

  Arach was out of bed and ready for battle in two seconds flat; naked but ready. “What happened?”

  That's what I'd like to know, Faerie snapped. Your wife's star is broken. Again! You'd think after the last time, she'd take better care of it.

  “Vervain?” Arach grabbed me by my upper arms and searched my face. “Who did this to you?”

  “Marduk,” I said softly. “The Mesopotamians are planning to go to war with us. We were spying on them and one of them was helping us; this goddess, Ninkasi. Marduk abducted her, and we went to save her. I was fighting with him when the Tablet of Destinies blasted me with its magic. It broke my star. I was hoping that Faerie might have an idea of how to fix it.”

  Get that tablet, Vervain, Faerie growled.

  “That's what Al said, but I was already weakened when we went after Ninkasi. Now, I'm weak and broken. Isn't there another way?”

  To unite a star that formed naturally? Faerie scoffed. Your magic made that star. If it's too weak to pull itself back together, then you need to use whatever did the deed to heal it.

  “The Tablet.” I sighed. “But you told me that my fate can't be changed. You said that the paths to it can be altered but not my fate itself. That too many lives depend on it; people who are meant to live.”

  Yes, well, that was before I knew about a destiny tablet, she grumbled. But thank you for bringing up all of those other destinies dependent on yours. It should help you focus; this concerns far more than you and your family. If you don't fix your star, and therefore your destiny, the realms will suffer, Vervain. All of them.

  “So, no pressure,” I muttered.

  “Can't the Nine Great Magics help her?” Arach asked. “They're connected to her star.”

  You're missing the major point, Faerie huffed. Her star's connection to the Nine Great Magics was weakened. Now, it's gone completely. The Nine can't help Vervain if they can't reach Vervain.

  “Perhaps if you go to Alfheim,” Arach suggested. “That's how you healed before.”

  “My mother healed me that time,” I reminded him. “And that piece of her is still inside me. It calmed my beasts during the break, but that's all its been able to do.”

  “Very well.” Arach's expression hardened. “Then we get that tablet.”

  “Arach I—”

  “Now, A Thaisce!” he cut me off. “And I'm going with you. I'll use my ring.”

  I sighed. Part of me had hoped for a moment of peace in Faerie to catch my breath. But it looked as if I wasn't going to get that. Maybe not for a long time.

  “Fine. Let me say hi to the boys and then we can go.” I started toward the bedroom door, but he grabbed my arm again.

  “No, I don't want them worried.”

  “I won't tell them about the star.”

  “Brevyn will know.”

  “Maybe he'll be able to help,” I countered.

  “Do you remember how scared they were the last time, Vervain?” Arach lowered his face to mine. “That vision terrified both of them. Then they had to save you. Our boys went into the Dream Realm to save you. Children shouldn't have to rescue their parents.”

  I blinked away my tears. “I know.”

  Arach sighed. “I'm sorry I said that.”

  “No, you're right. I just wanted to see them. I haven't seen them in over two weeks, Arach.”

  Arach yanked me into an embrace. “When this is over, you can stay as long as you like, but right now, we need to get you strong again. I will not allow this to go on for as long as it did the last time. We need to take action immediately.”

  “All right,” I whispered and eased out of his arms. Then I glanced down. “But—as much as it pains me to say this—you need to put some pants on first.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I gave Arach the date and time that I'd left the God Realm—so he could use his ring to go directly there—and then used my ring to go back. It was the shortest trip I'd ever made to Faerie and it left me feeling bereft. The Fire Kingdom was as much my home as Pride Palace was, maybe more so. I had history in Castle Aithinne. My ancestors had walked its halls and roared their way across the sky above it. It was hard enough to be away from it for so long, but to get a glimpse and then immediately leave was torture.

  I reformed beside Odin. The pancake I'd left him cooking was just starting to bubble, needing to be
flipped. Odin slid a sideways grin at me and handed me the spatula. He opened his mouth to speak but that's when Arach arrived.

  My Fey husband has a Ring of Remembrance too. Originally, they'd been made by the long-lived Fey to help them remember their past. A faerie could travel back in time and relive moments of their life. It wasn't about changing the past; a traveler could only interact as they had originally, experiencing everything more as a spectator than a participant. It was like living inside a play with your lines already scripted. But I'd discovered that if I went to a realm and a time that I hadn't experienced, I could act freely. I just had to be careful that I didn't overlap my visits.