Okay, so like, I'm in love with my home town girl, Gena Showalter, and her Lords of the Underworld series. Her characters are so, so, what's the word? Not-Twilight's-2d-bull-shit, maybe? Yeah, I like that description. I should make that into a stamp. ^_^
Anyway, time for the formalities. I do not own (though I wish I did) any rights to the names and/or locations associated with Gena Showalter's Lords of the Underworld. I am just writing this for the Hel of it. I do not expect any compensation for the hours of my life I spent drooling over this. (That's it, right?) Oh right…I found all the non-English words at Lexilogos' web site under their Scottish Gaelic section. They have a ton of different language dictionaries. You should check them out…even if just to play around and/or have fun with words. ^_^ I also used English Irish Dictionary. (Take out the spaces and add a dot com to the end and it should take you there.) I like theirs better but, I figured I'd give you both.
Side note: this takes place before, during, and after The Darkest Whisper. (Just in case you get lost on where we are.)
So, yeah. Let's get this party started.
Fiona stood in the middle of an almost empty airport, waiting to see her sister walk through the gates. It had been two years since she last laid eyes upon her older sister, Umhala. Two years since she brushed out Umhala's fine golden locks, envied her fields of lush green eyes and her finely bronzed skin.
Umhala had gone to see their grandmother in Scotland, to get some of her famous spider silk threads. Fiona and Umhala had the insane idea to see if they could reintroduce the lost art of spider weaving. They thought, the orients make fine silks with their worms, but we could spin spider thread into even finer silks. They had called their grandmother, Habetrot, the goddess of spinning, that night to see if she still had any of the silky threads. She had. So Umhala packed up and got a plane ticket to go visit for a bit. She was only supposed to be there for a three days. Yet, when those three days were up, and Umhala was nowhere to be seen, Fiona became worried. She had to keep reminding herself that her sister was with their grandmother and that nothing could have gone wrong. A few days passed before she picked up the phone and called her grandmother.
"Hóigh seanmháthair," Fiona greeted trying to hide the panic in her voice.
"Seanmháthair?" Habetrot asked inquisitively. "You never call me that any more. It's always grandmother, grandma, or grandmum. What do you want this time?"
"Nothing," Fiona said shaking her head. "I was just wondering if you'd seen Umhala?" Fiona asked not wanting to worry the old Fae goddess unless the need arose.
"Not since I took her to the airport. Isn't she with you?" Habetrot asked, her voice thick with her native tongue.
"No," Fiona tried not to break down in hysterics. "I haven't seen her since she left. This isn't like her," her thin ice of self preservation cracking. "She usually calls in between flights, but I thought she might be roaming and couldn't get a signal. Then when her flight got here and she wasn't here, I thought she might have gotten on a later one. When she wasn't there, I thought she might have found a lad to keep her bed. But still she would've called." Fiona speed through, slipping from her recently acquired Southern Midwest accent back to her grandmother's tongue.
"Calm child, there has to be a reason she hasn't…"
"Nay, there is no reason! She always calls!" Fiona had interrupted. "What if something bad happened to her? What if she's all alone? What if,"
"What if she is fine?" Habetrot interrupted. "There are too many 'what ifs' to consider. Have you tried to call her?"
"Yes," Fiona said her voice thick with unshed tears for her sister's well being. "Religiously. But it keeps taking me to her voice mail."
"The batteries could have run dry." Normally Fiona would have laughed at her grandmother's ability to use technological terms, but she was too worried and just snorted.
That was her grandmother, the optimist. While Fiona could see the strange, wrong, weird, and all the shadows in a room, her grandmother could only see the lights. It was like that for a full month. Fiona would call her grandmother every day to see if Umhala had been spotted.
Over the next month's passing and still Umhala had not phoned in, Habetrot became worried as well. She held a meeting with the High King, Gwynn Ap Nudd, to see if he would aid in finding her granddaughter. He dispatched some of his men to search for her, but after a year, they still could found no sign of her. The men said it was like she just vanished off the face of the planet. Not even the water mirrors could pinpoint her location. Every time they tried, something blocked them.
All traces of hope lost with the lack of her other half, Fiona flew to Scotland to attend Umhala's funeral. All of the Fae showed to pay the family their respects. Yet, Fiona was numb to the core of her bones and just nodded and said thank you on instinct. Her only constant light in a dark world, was gone. She had tried to go back to her home in the states, but she couldn't find it in herself to leave. She spent most of her time just lying in the bed they had both shared while growing up and weeping. Her great aunt, Scantlie Mab, eventually scooted her niece out the front door, and on a plain.
Returning home, Fiona plummeted into her work and tried as hard as she could to not be ital. Being ital allowed her thoughts to wonder, and she did not want to be reminded of what she lost. The only sad thing about being a weaver, was that even though the hands moved, she was too accustomed to it. So, regardless of the tedious work she forced herself to smile through, she spent all of her nights crying herself to sleep.
Then, one day, out of the blue, a man called and told Fiona that he and his had found Umhala.
"YOU MOTHER FUCKING ASS HOLE!" Fiona had yelled at the man on the other end of the line. "How dare you call me and tell me such a thing! My sister is dead!"
The man wasn't even fazed by the woman's temper and continued with the call before Fiona could hang up. "This is the number she gave me and told me to ask for," he paused, "Weft? Is that it?" the man asked to someone on his side of the line.
"Did," Fiona tried with all her anger leaving her in an instant. "Did you just say 'weft?'" no one called her that but Umhala. Umhala had given her the nick name when she couldn't remember which way the weft and the warp went.
"I'm the warp because I'm older and taller," Umhala had said pointing a finger at herself. "You are weft, because without you, we cannot make proper cloth. Also, because I get to beat on you," a much younger Umhala had said smiling while she lightly tapped Fiona on the arm. So since then, Umhala was the 'Warp,' and Fiona, 'Weft.'
"That's what it says," the man said as air passed over the receiver, like he was turning a piece of paper over from one side to the other. "It says 'call Fiona Weft.' You're last name is Weft? Seriously?"
"No," Fiona said falling to the floor on her knees and shaking her head. "We go by McFey. Weft, is, it's, it's a weaver's joke. I'm the weft to her warp. You," she tried to fight past the lump in her throat. "You found her?" it was a whisper as the tears fell heavily to the floor. "You really found her?"
"Yes, but," the man paused, letting a sigh pass his lips. "The men who kidnapped her," another sigh.
"Please just tell me she still breaths," Fiona said letting the tears and pain flow through her.
"She breaths, but, she's, not in good condition. The men, they, did, horrible things to her," the man said with such woe in his voice Fiona's tears came gushing out harder and her sobs caused her to drop the phone from her ear.
They had hurt her sister. Umhala was nothing but a saint. She offered help to those who needed it. Kindness and understanding to those who didn't deserve it. She was the light to Fiona's dark. She was the keeper of purity and kindness. How could someone have hurt such a pure soul as Umhala?
Sarah, Fiona's assistant and adopted sister, walked in and found Fiona crying to her heart's content. After asking what was the matter, she took the phone and told the man all the information he asked for.
Sarah had stayed by Fiona's side and cried with her. For that alone, Fiona loved the aging woman even more. Sara was a human who knew that Fiona and Umhala were fairies, but didn't care. She felt indebted to Umhala and Fiona for helping her get out of an abusive relationship, getting her a job that she truly enjoyed, a roof over her children's heads and a brighter future. So, she too was glad that Umhala had been found mostly whole and in one piece.
When both the women could formulate complete sentences, Sarah told Fiona what the man had told her over the phone. "They are going to have to put Umhala on a plain," Sarah said still sniffling. "He said that they would have flashed her, but Umhala didn't want to risk hurting her unborn child."
Fiona's neck almost snapped as she looked over to her friend of twenty some odd years. Gazing into Sara's haunted hazel brown eyes, she wanted to make sure she heard correctly. "She's, with child?" Fiona whispered.
Sarah nodded.
"How?" Fiona asked in disbelief. "She's not supposed to be fertile for another hundred years."
"The man, Strider, I think he said his name was, said that the men who took her, Hunters, he called them, gave her some kind of drug and rap, rapt," Sarah tried to get the words out but couldn't get them to formulate on her tongue.
"They raped her?" Fiona growled with a force that surprised Sarah. "They raped my beloved, sweet, innocent sister?" Umhala had always wanted a family of her own, but not by force. That thought alone was enough to fuel Fiona's rage. "I'm going to kill them," she vowed.
"No need," Sara said shaking her head.
"Why not!" Fiona snapped almost taking Sarah's head clean off.
"Strider said they killed all the men responsible. He also said that it wasn't just your sister, but that there were others as well. You'll like this part, one of the captives, she ripped the main Hunter's throat viciously out with her teeth," Sarah said smiling as she wished she could have seen the scene. "The Hunters, were trying to breed some kind of army to fight the, the, Lords of the Underworld?" Sarah said, baffled by the unfamiliar title. "Does that ring a bell?"
Oh yes, that rang a couple belfries and a gong or two for good measure. "You're kidding? Right?"
"No," Sarah said shaking her head. "Who are they?"
"They're the bogeyman's bogeymen," Fiona said shuddering.
"I've never heard of them," Sarah said thinking it over. "I mean, I know there are Lords of the Underworlds, but I don't know these Lords of the Underworld."
Fiona leaned her head back and stared at the high vaulted ceiling of Weaver's Hall she and Umhala had constructed half a century ago. The building was large enough to house well over one hundred gigantic hand looms, with sufficient space for each one. Even though they only had ten looms, twenty spindles, and other items associated with their craft in the building, it was a wonderful space to work. Everything had a designated area, and everything for that process was in its area. Easy work, makes happy people, Umhala had once said. "They are supposedly immortals who are possessed by demons. They are warriors through and through. The only thing they love more than war, blood, strife, and mayhem, is more of it."
Sarah sucked in her breath as she placed a withering hand to her mouth.
"Yeah," Fiona said exhaling.
"Who, why, what," Sarah tried to get through.
"Who knows," Fiona shrugged knowing what her long friend was trying to say. "Bragging rights, maybe? All I know, is that since I was a kid," Fiona turned her head to look at Sarah, "I was told stories about them. You did tell your kids about the bogeyman right?"
Sarah smiled as she nodded. "Why do you think I have three of the most obedient children on the planet?" she boasted.
"Because they have an awesome mom and two fairy godparents, literally," Fiona smiled. "Anyway, they are the reason Umhala and I never got out of line. We feared the Lords would find out what we did and hunt us down. Some of the stories we were told, said they would take our wings, immortality, fingers, limbs, what have you, as payment for the wrongs we committed."
"That's horrible!" Sarah exclaimed.
Fiona shrugged. "You have to remember, the stories people told long, long, long, loooong ago, were crueler than they are today. They were the only form of entertainment and education, so they were needed to be effective in that area. And, they were."
"I still can't believe you're that old," Sarah said shaking her head. "I still keep expecting to see crow's feet to grace those eyes of yours and your sisters. But look at me," Sarah said leaning back so Fiona could have a better view of her friend. "My breasts are sagging, I'm constantly tired, and don't even get me started on those spider webs I found."
Fiona tried not to laugh as she leaned back on her hands. "For a human, you're pretty old grandma. But, I'm not the eldest or the youngest of my kind. Let's see," Fiona said cocking her head to the side for better brain power. "I think the eldest deity is like, over eight trillion, give or take a century or two. Or at least that's what I was told. Regardless, me being just over three thou, still makes me a kid. Hell, it makes my grandmother just barely an adult, now that I think about it."
"And still no kids," Sarah said shaking her head in disbelief.
"Why would I want kids when I got to watch and help yours grow up? At least your kids honor the old ways while incorporating the new. And if they annoy me, I can just ship them back to you."
"Charlie, Maggie, and Jason never annoyed you," Sarah said nudging her friend.
"No," Fiona said shaking her head and smiling. "They're too much fun to annoy me for any length of time. But, when, when Umhala gets home, we'll have another child to, to play with," Fiona said trying to not break into hysterics again.
Sarah nodded. "This time I get to be the fairy godmother. And I vow that the child will want for nothing."
Fiona nodded. "And Maggie's newest rugrat will have someone new to play with."
"True. And you and Umhala will have another mind to fill with everything Fae."
"Yeah," Fiona smiled.
"Well, come on auntie," Sarah said lightly tapping Fiona on the shoulder. "Your sister will be here tomorrow, and you look like hell," she noticed as she stood up.
"Gods, I wish I had half her cleavage. That woman is stacked, packed, and ready to go," Fiona said motioning with her hands the size of the Norse goddess of the Underworld's chest. "Huh, I guess I do have half," she smiled when she looked down.
"Oh, come on you," Sarah said grabbing on to Fiona's hand and walking with her to the kitchen.
Not once, did Sarah mention that that was the first time she had seen Fiona smile and laugh since her sister left as they ate a midnight snack. After which, Sarah had to convince Fiona to sleep, and that they could clean out Umhala's room out later in the morning.
As Fiona lay in her bed, she debated on calling her grandmother. Yet, mid reasoning, she fell asleep, exhausted from the days processions.
Fiona's attention came back to the present as she noticed people coming through the gate. She tried not to run through it and push all the humans aside to get to her sister. After some of the people fanned out, Fiona's heart stopped dead when she saw a woman with long flowing golden hair. The woman was wearing an oversized black t-shirt and sweatpants. Her face was a little too sunken do to malnutrition but there was no mistaking it's once held beauty. When the woman's vastly green eyes meet with hers, Fiona's knees buckled and she crumbled to the ground. Umhala came running through the people to reach her sister with tears of joy streaming down her face.
So far, I'm digging it. You?