Prologue
Shutting Out the World
It is I
From earth and sky
Shut out, or they
From my closed heart.
-Kathleen Raine, The Oracle in the Heart.
The night was black, the moon and stars blotted by the ominous swirling clouds gathering over head. Shiny black obsidian threads spun and whirled in a kind of fury, buffeted by the gentle winds. Mists floated eerily along the forest floor, clinging to the tree trunks so that they seemed to rise up out of the fog.
The rustling leaves beckoned as a six-foot wingspan glided to a high branch of an ancient tree, razor sharp talons digging into the branch as he landed. The owl's body went motionless, blending into the night, simply waiting, his yellow eyes carefully scanning the forest floor for his evening meal.
The sudden snap of a twig startled him. Feathers shifting then resettling, his head quickly turned towards the sound, ears alert. Keenly listening. Evaluating weather the sudden din in the soft night air was prey or a warning.
The underbrush snapped again, closer this time. In the distance he could hear the approach of others, smell the fear and adrenaline of their prey. Predatory instincts alerted, the muscles in his compact form tightened under the mantel of white feathers. Sharp talons swiftly released their grip on the gnarled branch, as he hastily launched himself into the night sky. Shimmering feathers beating silently, powerfully guiding him towards the safety of the clouds high above the forest.
She ran as though the very land itself had opened and every daemon of hell had spewed forth, seeking her soul as bounty. As she tore through the trees, she was scraped by the sharpened fingers of twigs and limbs that carved deep furrows in her soft skin. Her lungs strained for oxygen, filling and emptying in too rapid succession, burning with the growing need for rest. She was so close to safety. Her self preservation screamed at her to move, forcing her exhausted body forward. She couldn't stop, not now. Not with the hounds of hell behind her.
Without warning, a misshapen figure materialized at her side, shackling her hand, abruptly halting her escape. The skin on her wrist burned as she tugged fiercly at her arm, attempting to break the huntsman's unyielding grip.
Twisting his hand in her hair, he pulled her close, facing her as he leaned close. "I knew we'd find you." He whispered triumphantly, his fetid breath wafted over her face as his grip tightened rough hands slammed her hard onto the ground.
The fall had knocked the wind out of her and for a moment she lay still, her head spinning in disorientation. The weight of his hard frame straddling her, abruptly refocused her mind and filled her with terror. Hands pinned above her head within the solid vice of his hold, she watched in terror as his free hand retrieved a leather binding from a pocket. She would be bound like the others then executed as they had been.
"I'll watch you burn just like all the others. You Sidhe whore!!" He promised confirming her deduction.
Struggling fiercly, her hands burned with the sheer force of his restraining grip. Her knee thrust upwards between his legs, attempting to catch him unaware in his distraction with victory.
Shifting his weight, he quickly avoided the disabling blow. Slapping her once, twice, his hand closed over her throat, cutting off her air. "Try that again and I'll kill you right here!" his eyes flashed with the promise of retribution.
The bile rose in her throat as his harsh voice reverberated through her, casting up in its wake fragments of haunting memories.
Her village was far too small to stand against the onslaught advancing so quickly toward them. Nothing had slowed these murderers. Everything in their path had been destroyed, everyone slaughtered, cruelly murdered. Village elders had been decapitated in the town square and left for the ravens to finish off. Blood ran in rivers. Everyone had been rounded up. Young and old, the wise and the healers,…….. the children…All were taken away, later found dead in the smoldering ruins of the barn. Burned alive, without mercy or conscience. No one was spared, not even the youngest child or the oldest elder.
The killers burned, tortured and mutilated, leaving behind only smoldering homes and the stench of death.
Anger and retribution soared in her soul, adrenaline surging into her bloodstream strengthening her anger and resolve. She pushed away from him violently, twisting her body to unseat his deadly weight. "Murderer!"
Feted breath caressed her cheek. "Can't murder daemons, I'm just sending ya to Hell where you belong."
She twisted and bucked struggling to obtain the upper hand. He screamed as she raked her nails over his face, gouging flesh and blinding her attacker.
Roaring in pain, his hands released their grip on her shoulders and flew to his bloodied skin.
Momentarily distracted, she called on every ounce of remaining strength and twisted. Unbalanced by her sudden movement, he crashed to the ground next to her. She scrambled back, stumbling to her feet.
His eyes, visible by a brief flash of distant lightning, held fury and murderous contempt as he wiped a hand across his face and stood, a merciless promise of savagery, and hunger for another kill. He raised his hand above her and she caught the glint of shiny metal. He stabbed down, his face a mask of fury and hate.
The last thing he expected was for this slip of a woman to attack him. He struck, aiming for a noncritical area. He wasn't going to kill her, yet. No, this one would linger in pain and misery for a long time before he ended her life. Punishment fitting the merry chase she had led him on.
"Bastard." She hissed, sidestepping the blow. She launched herself at him and went in low and mean, sweeping his legs out from under him so that he landed on his backside.
He howled in pain when the edge of her boot connected with his wrist, sending his knife spinning out of his hand. She kicked the fallen knife again, sending it skittering off over the grass and into the dark piles of leaves.
In a blur of motion, she was gone, running swiftly into the darkened forest, melting into the shadows. Her footfalls were light, almost inaudible.
Cursing loudly as he lost sight of her, he silently vowed to tear out her heart. As his men found him, she heard his impatiently screamed order to follow her.
Racing through the forest, she sought the tall map stone. From the ancient inscriptions engraved upon it, she would be able to find the direction to the ancient stone gate and safety.
The stone gates had been ancient even at the time of her birth. Sidhe legends said that they were a gift from the living earth itself, to her chosen caretakers. The stone circles interconnected time and space, intermingling with the Sidhe's natural magick. Through these sites, their people carried out their sacred work of caring for the earth, journeying from gate to gate, continent to continent, without the restriction of boat, horse or foot and living peacefully amongst the indigenous peoples.
Then death was upon them as the artisans of war emerged. Greedy for power and inflamed with a self righteous neglect of conscience, they drove the Sidhe from their homes and sacred groves of worship, spilling blood with each step. Thousands upon thousands were slaughtered as Man's hunger for power, land and knowledge, drove him to learn the forging of weapons of iron. Wielded by the masterminds of the art of murder, they became the tools of extermination for the Sidhe. Now, her people raced to escape an inevitable annihilation.
"She's this way!" The voices of her pursuers were closer than she had expected. Her soul called out a prayer to the earth for guidance and protection. She was close, she could feel the pulsating hum of the stone's magick pulling within her, beckoning her nearer.
She jumped over a pile of fallen stones that marked the edge of the forest. She was so very close.
The ominous clouds had thickened and darkened, occasionally issuing small veins of lightning and a rumble of thunder, the first droplets of rain landing on her face. As she cleared the edge of the forest, the stone loomed before her. Black in the darkness, illuminated only by the brief light of the lightning.
She stopped her flight, fighting for breath as her hands sought out the chiseled pattern inscribed on the rough surface of the stone. Lightning flashed, arcing from cloud to cloud across the midnight sky.
Her mind raced as her eyes briefly caught the outline of the pattern in the momentary lighting. There it was! She cried out with relief as her fingers deftly flew over the ancient symbols, tracing the path she would need to take to safety. One more flash she prayed, and her path to the gate could be confirmed.
She closed her eyes, summoning the elements, as she had been taught, to her aid. Her body trembled, the gentle tingling building within her mind, behind her eyes, as she pulled at the essence of the land itself, gathering energy from the sky and wind. The energy moved throughout her body with blinding speed, bathing her from head to toe in the pulsating consciousness of nature. Looking into the turbulent sky, she focused the energy, and directed it into the clouds. The sky rumbled in eagerness, as though answering her command.
The sound of heavy boots falling on twigs and snapping branches alerted her to the approach of her hunters. Swallowing the nauseating fear that choked her, she realized she was out of time.
The illumination of the sky was sudden, clearly revealing the map symbols in detail. The sound of pursuit drew closer as she frantically memorized the pictogram, translating the ancient symbols, revealing her direction to safety. Murmuring a appreciative blessing, she pulled her weary body away from the stone and sprinted north. Her feet flew over the hilly terrain of the moor as she raced towards the hilltop.
As she crested the hummock, she briefly looked back looking for her pursuers. The lightning flashed again, revealing their position many hundred feet behind her. She turned back to her goal, lungs rasping for air. There it was. The stone circle of gateway of Mên Scryfa now stood, glowing and active. Hundreds of people were streaming through the gate, passing into the keystone and into safety. Around the gate, stood the familiar blue uniforms of the royal guardsmen of Awyn.
She ran into the field, racing now with long, open strides, arms pumping, heart beating loudly, wildly. The narrow pathway of the procession was just before her. She didn't slow down, but cut into the lane. The guards urged her to hurry while assuming a protective stance near the entrance, deftly pulling arrows from their quivers, and loading their bows as they moved in to protect her. Her lungs were burning, forcing her to slow to a jog. The light of the gateway intensified, bright and welcoming,
One by one, they were hurried into the portal by a tall figure, his aura exuded authority, an expectation of being obeyed without question. He looked like a warrior of old, battle-scarred but undefeated. His golden hair flowed around him, his face set as if in stone, lined with pain and weariness, yet his hands were gentle as they guided his people into the portal, offering them gentle reassurances.
He looked to her quickly as she approached, relief clearly evident on his handsome features. His face was a carved creation of sensual beauty that never failed to steel her breath. For a moment she couldn't think as her dark eyes met his of molten gold.
He gathered her into his arms. His gaze was hot, burning with possession. Her mouth went suddenly dry and her body seemed to go up in flames. His hand framed one side of her face, his thumb feathering over her soft skin, absorbing the perfection of it before finding a resting place over her frantically beating heart. "I was about to send out a search party to find you. Where are the others?"
"Their all dead, Jareth. Everyone." she said breathlessly in despair, anguished tears welling in her eyes "They spared no one— not even the children…."
His eyes darkened dangerously as he pulled her trembling form close to the warmth of his body. Anger blazed within him. It was a crushing blow to lose this village, so filled with many of his kind and their dearest human friends. However grief and tears would need to wait until everyone was safe. "They will pay dearly for their crimes, but our people require your reassuring presence just now." he smoothed the tears away as she relaxed in his arms.
Taking a deep breath, she forced her grief back. . "I was followed." She stated looking over her shoulder." Her voice was much calmer than she felt inside.
Jareth nodded, smiling a small, humorless quirk of his lips that brought a distinctively cruel gleam to his eyes as he followed her gaze. "I'm counting on it. Did Murran still have possession of the Faeid key?"
"Yes," She quickly pulled the delicate gold chain over her head, sadly adding, "It was still around her neck when I found her body." Fresh tears shimmered in her green eyes, as the grief for her friend resurfaced. The glittering green stone shimmered with power and hidden knowledge. It was pressed into the palm of his leather gloved hand.
"Then our last tasks here are finished and we must leave immediately." His fingers brushed her face in the lightest of caresses, acknowledging her sadness.
She felt a jolt of electricity right down to her toes. Anchoring her back to the present.
"Go through and have the guards patrol the perimeter of the city. If we lose Awyn, we loose our last sanctuary." He stated grimly.
She found tears swimming in her eyes. This man who had stood so calmly and faced death, defending his people, always thought first of his people's safety. Pride rose in her for this man. She may never understand why they had been drawn together, but she was suddenly glad that fate had done so. Jareth was an extraordinary Sidhe male; noble and strong, so often thinking of others before he thought of himself. She reminded herself that this was an often deadly trait for a leader. Shuddering with anxiety and dread at the possibility of loosing him to these killers.
"I'm not leaving your side." she insisted, firmly placing her hand on the wall of his chest. He instantly responded by covering her hand with his, trapping her palm against his heavy muscles.
He leaned down to kiss her soft mouth. There were shadows in her eyes, and she was trembling slightly, but she looked him in the eye and he could feel the resolve in her mind. As he pulled back, the night breezes washed over him, carrying scents and sounds from miles around them.
At once his golden eyes became flat and merciless. A sudden warning to his men escaped as he exhaled sharply. The enemy had found them. Not one or two but, if his acute sense of smell had not failed him, a virtual army surrounded them. The men were moving slowly through the moor, ringing the base of the stone circle's hilltop. He smelled their fear, their adrenaline, their sweat. He smelled their excitement. He read their intentions, their eagerness for the kill. "I will seal the portal after everyone else is through. Go!" His command left no room for negotiation.
Her hand stroked the strong muscles of his neck as she leaned closer. This close, she could see the flecks of gold and silver in his eyes. "If you are as much as scratched, I'll kill you myself." She said tensely. The aching in her heart was real and strong.
Smiling, he felt the curious melting in the region of his heart that she always caused. His mate was trying to be tough, but her voice wavered, her fear for his well-being filling his mind. He sent a empathetic wave of reassuring warmth and love to her as he leaned into her, brushing a soft kiss across her mouth. "I consider myself forewarned, my love." He murmured pushing her towards the gate.
She stumbled towards the pulsating light emanating from the circular opening of the great stone, fear and anxiety clawing at her soul, screaming at her to disobey his order.
The familiar tingling sensation of her second sight began, painfully at first, as though a hundred white hot needles pricked at the back of her eyes. Face flushed with a burning warmth, she felt her subconscious body dwindle, her mind telescoping into itself as the vision took form.
The pitch blackness surrounding her clouded. Eddy of coloured light danced amongst the midnight hews. Her disoriented mind churned with dizziness….
Then through the swirling haze, the premonition began to take shape…….Jareth lie on the ground. His head unnaturally angled. Blood soaked into the fertile soil beneath his lifeless form. A feathered arrow protruded from one shoulder. The hairs on the nape of her neck rose, and she was seized with a nauseating foreboding of the imminent fulfillment of this omen. Of impending disaster.
Her vision cleared as quickly as the certainty that, should she stay on her intended course of action and leave as he directed, Jareth would not survive the next hour.
She had been afraid before. Any being who didn't know fear in the midst of battle was an idiot and probably a dead one at that. Fear could be good. It could stop you from doing insanely stupid things and even sometimes keep you alive for another heartbeat, another breath, another hour, another day, another battle. This was different.
Dread ate at her, burning her soul. She wasn't sure which was worse, the sickening anguish she was certain to live if she left his side, or the fear that accompanied the plan forming within her mind.
His furious reaction would certainly prompt a stern lecture on the subject obedience to one's mate. In his definition of the concept anyway. Their individual understanding of the term had always been somewhat diverse, much to his distain, and occasionally to his extreme frustration.
In the end, however, he would see that her defiance had been the necessary course of action. The only course of action open to a reasonably sane person of good conscience.
Decision made, she slipped behind the keystone, concealing herself in shadows. They would go through the portal together, or meet death together. Looking around the stone, she saw the guards carefully retreating towards the gate.
One by one, they passed through. Clearly reluctant to leave his leader alone, the last guard vanished. A terrible roar of a hundred voices resounded through the night. The attack had begun.
Jareth spun towards the stone portal, his midnight blue cape swinging around him, concealing him in shadows as he raced the few hundred feet towards the opening.
The hilltop was suddenly alive with the movement of the assault. Jareth vanished then reappeared behind the closest attacker. The sickening snap of the man's neck was the only sound, she heard. The doomed fellow hadn't time for a warning to escape his lips, only the rush of wind that signaled his last breath. The cloak of darkness carried him closer to the portal and the next assailant in line. A shadow moving amongst shadowed places towards his next target. Unseen. Deadly.
This one was crouched low, behind a low stone, frantically searching the darkness for a target upon which he could aim his arrow. Shadows gathered around his body and caught him in a death grip, like a huge hand at his throat, slowly strangling the life out of him while his body dangled helplessly inches above the ground. Unceremoniously, he fell lifeless into the deep heather carpeting the soil.
Suddenly, he sensed a man rushing out of the darkness at him, his sword pointed towards his heart.
Jareth's cold eyes gleamed with deadly intent as he vanished into the darkness, then reappeared next to the man.
A leather gloved hand took control of the weapon, forcing the blade back around towards the swordsman. The killer screamed horribly as the blade that he had held, swiftly spun about. The vice-like grip of his victim's hands crushed his thick fingers, breaking bones, as he seized the hilt. With unimaginable strength, the blade now moved, inexorably, towards his own heart. Even as the doomed man screamed and poured his remaining strength into his injured muscles, he felt his own hand thrust the weapon upwards. Pleading black eyes locked on venomous golden ones, seeking mercy, yet knowing undeniably that none would be present. He stiffened as metal pierced flesh and muscle, burying itself to the hilt, within his chest. His punctured heart viciously pumped blood through the lacerated tissue, flowing over the hilt in steadily diminishing waves. Darkness gathered around his soul as a drowsy calm settled over him. The deadly glowing amber eyes staring into his, softened at the moment his heart stuttered, as though sorrowful for the kill.
"There! He's there, in the shadows next to Liam!!" a panicked voice exclaimed.
Jareth loosened his grip as the dead man slumped to the ground. Moving with blurring speed, he launched himself towards the gate, as the swooshing rapport of bows met his sensitive ears.
The arrow caught him high in the back of his shoulder, burning and tearing through his flesh and muscle, stealing his breath. It cut deeper when he impacted heavily on the soaked ground.
He needed to lie there a moment to rest, but the assailant who had succeeded in shooting him was reloading his bow, moving in for the kill. Thrusting his pain aside, he focused his fury on the enemy. Calling heavily on the foliage of the dark earth and the power of the sky, he quickly intensified the thunderstorm, camouflaging his presence in blinding explosions of white light.
The dark, wet earth shuddered beneath him as vines grew, twisting and turning, crawling towards his attacker then up the bowman's legs, pinning the man to the spot. They grew, twisting and entangling relentlessly.
The ensnared bowman howled an inarticulate cry as they tightened around his chest and neck, forming a garrote of living wood. The bow fell silently into the bracken as his hands flew to the strangulating obstruction. Desperate fingers clawed attempting to break the lethal hold, but the creepers continued to grow, racing around his neck again and again, tightening their murderous hold with each pass. A gurgling rattled signaled his demise beneath the animated wood.
They held their grip for a moment longer, awaiting the cessation of movement, then receding back to the ground, leaving a trail of bloody welts along the dead man's body.
Jareth was exhausted now, his strength draining away with each ferocious effort and the loss of blood. The din of another attack forced him into action.
The gate was merely a few meters away, and she would be waiting for him on the other side. He called on the storm again, focusing his pain to strengthen his intent. At once the rain strengthened. Not lightly, but in torrential sheets, slashing from the sky, drenching the land and pelting the enemy, as if the heavens had opened up and was intent on drowning the lot. He tried to gain his feet, stumbling with fatigue and agony as his shoulder protested the movement.
Terror seized her heart as she saw the events unfold before her eyes. The arrow lodging into his shoulder signaled the initial fulfillment of her premonition. An agonized cry of denial tore from her throat as she ran from her shadowed hiding place, towards him.
He turned as her whispered sob caught his ears. Disbelief and anger rose in him but was quickly replaced by the utter terror he felt at the risk into which she had placed herself. Feeling her resolve and intention to save him, he turned to look at her, his heart in his eyes, fear for her safety clawing at his soul. He focused his remaining strength into an imperious command, imbedded with the strongest strength of compulsion he had ever issued. "Get through!! Now!!"
The sight of her lover, soaking wet, weary, streaked with blood, his golden hair plastered to his head, nearly broke her heart. Pain sliced through her head, making her cry out as she fought the physical and mental demands of his order. Resolutely, she quickly closed the distance between them, and slipped her shoulder under his uninjured arm, assisting him to stand. His face twisted in agony as his wounded shoulder protested. She moved him to the keystone, her eyes widening in fear at the dimming light from within the circular opening.
The gate was closing as fast as Jareth's magick and strength faded. She fumed as she deduced that the arrow head must have been forged with iron, one of the few substances that could harm the Sidhe and block their abilities. Determinedly, she committed to implementing her plan.
Jareth was swiftly loosing consciousness and he sagged heavily against her as they reached the edge of the keystone. The portal could take only one person at a time, even when it was at full power. Now, in all likelihood, it would only permit one further transfer. However, she mused, there was more than one way to skin a cat.
The Faeid key had been the Sidhe's gift to the humans who had chosen to help the ancient creatures in stewarding the land. Mortals possessed magick as great as the Sidhe's own, but frequently denied or underused their gifts due to fear. Those that had embraced their true land born nature were able to work with nature and could, with the attunement necessary from the key, control the gates.
Generation after generation, it had been in Faeid possession, safe, respected and unabused. However, the key that had become the symbol to their cultures unity with man, was now the source of their undoing.
The key would allow her to briefly activate the gate, if she could quickly reach the lock above the portal.
Dragging his weakening form towards the flickering light of the threshold, she felt the burning sting of an arrow grazing her cheek. It shattered into sharp fragments as it impacted the granite surface of the stone, showering them with splinters. She had no time to weigh her options. The next volley would be more accurate. Speed and dexterity were risks she would need to bear.
She caught his face and fastened her mouth on his unconscious one. She tasted his fear of loosing her, his anger at her disobedience, his love for her that had grown with every moment they had shared.
Mind to mind, heart to heart, she filled him with the depth of her love for him. Assuring him that no matter what happened this night, she would always be with him. Completing him. In this life and the next. "Mind to mind, heart to heart, body to body" she repeated. They would always be that part of each other's soul that lived, loved and truly mattered.
Reluctantly she lifted her head. "I'll see you soon." Her voice was low, strangled, as if she was choking on her anguish, as she recovered the necklace from his pocket.
Placing it around her neck, she reached around his solid frame and obtaining the leverage she needed, pushed him into the portal. His form vanished with a flash of blinding white light, so intense that she stumbled back several paces.
As she regained her vision, her heart ached as she saw that the portal was no longer illuminated. The gate had closed.
"Sent him back to hell did ya?" The voice was behind her and dripping with venom and murderous intent. "You're going to take on us all by yourself?"
"Actually, " retorting with feigned bravado, "I thought I would leave the rest of you sick chaps for more qualified hands to tear into tiny little shreds." She looked meaningfully at the ground, smirking coldly.
He followed her gaze, astonishment crossing his features as he suddenly understood her implication. Beneath his feet, the ground slither, covering his boots in slimy mud. The snakes weaved their way quickly over and around feet, biting his ankles and legs, gouging mouthfuls of leather and flesh with they razor like teeth. Screaming as pain seared through his legs, he fell forward into the death squirming on the forest floor. Quickly the slithering coils encircled his body. They fed, bursting arteries and ripping flesh.
Alerted by his cry, one of his men came towards his writhing body. The man jumped back suddenly as the snakes paused, reveling the gaping holes torn in the flesh of his now motionless leader. Thousands of black eyes turned towards him. Marking him. , the snakes slithered off the body and towards him as he backed away.
Glancing behind her long enough to see that she had bought herself time and distance, she made a break for the gate. Launching her exhausted form backwards, she easily reached the stone.
Delicate fingers deftly slid over the rough surface searching for the key hole, in which the Faeid stone would fit. Reactivating the gateway home was her only escape now and as the men closed in behind her, she drove on, frantically reaching higher on the keystone. "Where is it??" her mind screamed.
The edge of the key hole suddenly scraped against her fingers, filling her with frenzied relief. Her free hand grasped the pendant tightly, cutting her palm on the sharp points of the star shaped setting. Her mind whirled; place the key; speak the words and she would be home in his arms.
A shadow rose up next to her like an apparition, solidly blocking her path to the opening. Terror beat at her skull as her eyes fell on the weapon in his hand. Her heart pound like a trapped sparrow within her chest. Then the realization settled on her.
There was no escape this time.
Jareth's grief would be a living thing when he learned that she was gone. He would be a wounded animal, ready to tear and rend in retaliation.
Sadly, the nature of their union would entrap his heart in grief, clouding his ability to love another until his death or in incarnate reunion within her next life.
Swept with calm, struggling to show no fear, she slowly raised her head and faced her fate. In time, Jareth would see the wisdom of her course. He was the king. He knew the price of leadership was sacrifice. Despite his grief, he would go on. It was his way to fulfill his responsibilities despite circumstance or loss. Even one as intensely personal as this would be. Their people would rely on his solid constancy and leadership to recover from this holocaust and in return, they would he would have their understanding and support. For him, however, grief would never turn. It would hold him in this painfully eternal moment, until they loved again.
The dark figure before her raised his swords high above his head.
She closed her eyes, her hand reaching for the necklace. She prayed to the living spirit of the earth. Beseeching her to safely conceal her people, to help her lover though this loss, to aid their souls in their quest to be together again…..reunited….in the next life.
Slowly she chanted the musical words of Jareth's ancient language, empowering the green stone with her enchantment. The words as ancient as time
Mar a bha
Mar a tha
Mar a bhitheas
Gu brath
Ri Tragadh
'S ri lionadh
The mighty sword arm swiftly descended.
A momentary arc of searing, white pain in her throat was quickly replaced by warmth and a calming sense of peace. Faintly she heard the tinkle of metal in the distance, as the necklace flew off her throat and landed in a crevice within the keystone.
Vines quickly concealed the treasure deep within the safety of wood and stone.
She repeated the prayer; chanting it over and over as she welcomed the glowing embrace of eternity……..
As it was
As it is
As it shall be
Evermore
With the ebb
With the flow
Shutting Out the World
It is I
From earth and sky
Shut out, or they
From my closed heart.
-Kathleen Raine, The Oracle in the Heart.
The night was black, the moon and stars blotted by the ominous swirling clouds gathering over head. Shiny black obsidian threads spun and whirled in a kind of fury, buffeted by the gentle winds. Mists floated eerily along the forest floor, clinging to the tree trunks so that they seemed to rise up out of the fog.
The rustling leaves beckoned as a six-foot wingspan glided to a high branch of an ancient tree, razor sharp talons digging into the branch as he landed. The owl's body went motionless, blending into the night, simply waiting, his yellow eyes carefully scanning the forest floor for his evening meal.
The sudden snap of a twig startled him. Feathers shifting then resettling, his head quickly turned towards the sound, ears alert. Keenly listening. Evaluating weather the sudden din in the soft night air was prey or a warning.
The underbrush snapped again, closer this time. In the distance he could hear the approach of others, smell the fear and adrenaline of their prey. Predatory instincts alerted, the muscles in his compact form tightened under the mantel of white feathers. Sharp talons swiftly released their grip on the gnarled branch, as he hastily launched himself into the night sky. Shimmering feathers beating silently, powerfully guiding him towards the safety of the clouds high above the forest.
She ran as though the very land itself had opened and every daemon of hell had spewed forth, seeking her soul as bounty. As she tore through the trees, she was scraped by the sharpened fingers of twigs and limbs that carved deep furrows in her soft skin. Her lungs strained for oxygen, filling and emptying in too rapid succession, burning with the growing need for rest. She was so close to safety. Her self preservation screamed at her to move, forcing her exhausted body forward. She couldn't stop, not now. Not with the hounds of hell behind her.
Without warning, a misshapen figure materialized at her side, shackling her hand, abruptly halting her escape. The skin on her wrist burned as she tugged fiercly at her arm, attempting to break the huntsman's unyielding grip.
Twisting his hand in her hair, he pulled her close, facing her as he leaned close. "I knew we'd find you." He whispered triumphantly, his fetid breath wafted over her face as his grip tightened rough hands slammed her hard onto the ground.
The fall had knocked the wind out of her and for a moment she lay still, her head spinning in disorientation. The weight of his hard frame straddling her, abruptly refocused her mind and filled her with terror. Hands pinned above her head within the solid vice of his hold, she watched in terror as his free hand retrieved a leather binding from a pocket. She would be bound like the others then executed as they had been.
"I'll watch you burn just like all the others. You Sidhe whore!!" He promised confirming her deduction.
Struggling fiercly, her hands burned with the sheer force of his restraining grip. Her knee thrust upwards between his legs, attempting to catch him unaware in his distraction with victory.
Shifting his weight, he quickly avoided the disabling blow. Slapping her once, twice, his hand closed over her throat, cutting off her air. "Try that again and I'll kill you right here!" his eyes flashed with the promise of retribution.
The bile rose in her throat as his harsh voice reverberated through her, casting up in its wake fragments of haunting memories.
Her village was far too small to stand against the onslaught advancing so quickly toward them. Nothing had slowed these murderers. Everything in their path had been destroyed, everyone slaughtered, cruelly murdered. Village elders had been decapitated in the town square and left for the ravens to finish off. Blood ran in rivers. Everyone had been rounded up. Young and old, the wise and the healers,…….. the children…All were taken away, later found dead in the smoldering ruins of the barn. Burned alive, without mercy or conscience. No one was spared, not even the youngest child or the oldest elder.
The killers burned, tortured and mutilated, leaving behind only smoldering homes and the stench of death.
Anger and retribution soared in her soul, adrenaline surging into her bloodstream strengthening her anger and resolve. She pushed away from him violently, twisting her body to unseat his deadly weight. "Murderer!"
Feted breath caressed her cheek. "Can't murder daemons, I'm just sending ya to Hell where you belong."
She twisted and bucked struggling to obtain the upper hand. He screamed as she raked her nails over his face, gouging flesh and blinding her attacker.
Roaring in pain, his hands released their grip on her shoulders and flew to his bloodied skin.
Momentarily distracted, she called on every ounce of remaining strength and twisted. Unbalanced by her sudden movement, he crashed to the ground next to her. She scrambled back, stumbling to her feet.
His eyes, visible by a brief flash of distant lightning, held fury and murderous contempt as he wiped a hand across his face and stood, a merciless promise of savagery, and hunger for another kill. He raised his hand above her and she caught the glint of shiny metal. He stabbed down, his face a mask of fury and hate.
The last thing he expected was for this slip of a woman to attack him. He struck, aiming for a noncritical area. He wasn't going to kill her, yet. No, this one would linger in pain and misery for a long time before he ended her life. Punishment fitting the merry chase she had led him on.
"Bastard." She hissed, sidestepping the blow. She launched herself at him and went in low and mean, sweeping his legs out from under him so that he landed on his backside.
He howled in pain when the edge of her boot connected with his wrist, sending his knife spinning out of his hand. She kicked the fallen knife again, sending it skittering off over the grass and into the dark piles of leaves.
In a blur of motion, she was gone, running swiftly into the darkened forest, melting into the shadows. Her footfalls were light, almost inaudible.
Cursing loudly as he lost sight of her, he silently vowed to tear out her heart. As his men found him, she heard his impatiently screamed order to follow her.
Racing through the forest, she sought the tall map stone. From the ancient inscriptions engraved upon it, she would be able to find the direction to the ancient stone gate and safety.
The stone gates had been ancient even at the time of her birth. Sidhe legends said that they were a gift from the living earth itself, to her chosen caretakers. The stone circles interconnected time and space, intermingling with the Sidhe's natural magick. Through these sites, their people carried out their sacred work of caring for the earth, journeying from gate to gate, continent to continent, without the restriction of boat, horse or foot and living peacefully amongst the indigenous peoples.
Then death was upon them as the artisans of war emerged. Greedy for power and inflamed with a self righteous neglect of conscience, they drove the Sidhe from their homes and sacred groves of worship, spilling blood with each step. Thousands upon thousands were slaughtered as Man's hunger for power, land and knowledge, drove him to learn the forging of weapons of iron. Wielded by the masterminds of the art of murder, they became the tools of extermination for the Sidhe. Now, her people raced to escape an inevitable annihilation.
"She's this way!" The voices of her pursuers were closer than she had expected. Her soul called out a prayer to the earth for guidance and protection. She was close, she could feel the pulsating hum of the stone's magick pulling within her, beckoning her nearer.
She jumped over a pile of fallen stones that marked the edge of the forest. She was so very close.
The ominous clouds had thickened and darkened, occasionally issuing small veins of lightning and a rumble of thunder, the first droplets of rain landing on her face. As she cleared the edge of the forest, the stone loomed before her. Black in the darkness, illuminated only by the brief light of the lightning.
She stopped her flight, fighting for breath as her hands sought out the chiseled pattern inscribed on the rough surface of the stone. Lightning flashed, arcing from cloud to cloud across the midnight sky.
Her mind raced as her eyes briefly caught the outline of the pattern in the momentary lighting. There it was! She cried out with relief as her fingers deftly flew over the ancient symbols, tracing the path she would need to take to safety. One more flash she prayed, and her path to the gate could be confirmed.
She closed her eyes, summoning the elements, as she had been taught, to her aid. Her body trembled, the gentle tingling building within her mind, behind her eyes, as she pulled at the essence of the land itself, gathering energy from the sky and wind. The energy moved throughout her body with blinding speed, bathing her from head to toe in the pulsating consciousness of nature. Looking into the turbulent sky, she focused the energy, and directed it into the clouds. The sky rumbled in eagerness, as though answering her command.
The sound of heavy boots falling on twigs and snapping branches alerted her to the approach of her hunters. Swallowing the nauseating fear that choked her, she realized she was out of time.
The illumination of the sky was sudden, clearly revealing the map symbols in detail. The sound of pursuit drew closer as she frantically memorized the pictogram, translating the ancient symbols, revealing her direction to safety. Murmuring a appreciative blessing, she pulled her weary body away from the stone and sprinted north. Her feet flew over the hilly terrain of the moor as she raced towards the hilltop.
As she crested the hummock, she briefly looked back looking for her pursuers. The lightning flashed again, revealing their position many hundred feet behind her. She turned back to her goal, lungs rasping for air. There it was. The stone circle of gateway of Mên Scryfa now stood, glowing and active. Hundreds of people were streaming through the gate, passing into the keystone and into safety. Around the gate, stood the familiar blue uniforms of the royal guardsmen of Awyn.
She ran into the field, racing now with long, open strides, arms pumping, heart beating loudly, wildly. The narrow pathway of the procession was just before her. She didn't slow down, but cut into the lane. The guards urged her to hurry while assuming a protective stance near the entrance, deftly pulling arrows from their quivers, and loading their bows as they moved in to protect her. Her lungs were burning, forcing her to slow to a jog. The light of the gateway intensified, bright and welcoming,
One by one, they were hurried into the portal by a tall figure, his aura exuded authority, an expectation of being obeyed without question. He looked like a warrior of old, battle-scarred but undefeated. His golden hair flowed around him, his face set as if in stone, lined with pain and weariness, yet his hands were gentle as they guided his people into the portal, offering them gentle reassurances.
He looked to her quickly as she approached, relief clearly evident on his handsome features. His face was a carved creation of sensual beauty that never failed to steel her breath. For a moment she couldn't think as her dark eyes met his of molten gold.
He gathered her into his arms. His gaze was hot, burning with possession. Her mouth went suddenly dry and her body seemed to go up in flames. His hand framed one side of her face, his thumb feathering over her soft skin, absorbing the perfection of it before finding a resting place over her frantically beating heart. "I was about to send out a search party to find you. Where are the others?"
"Their all dead, Jareth. Everyone." she said breathlessly in despair, anguished tears welling in her eyes "They spared no one— not even the children…."
His eyes darkened dangerously as he pulled her trembling form close to the warmth of his body. Anger blazed within him. It was a crushing blow to lose this village, so filled with many of his kind and their dearest human friends. However grief and tears would need to wait until everyone was safe. "They will pay dearly for their crimes, but our people require your reassuring presence just now." he smoothed the tears away as she relaxed in his arms.
Taking a deep breath, she forced her grief back. . "I was followed." She stated looking over her shoulder." Her voice was much calmer than she felt inside.
Jareth nodded, smiling a small, humorless quirk of his lips that brought a distinctively cruel gleam to his eyes as he followed her gaze. "I'm counting on it. Did Murran still have possession of the Faeid key?"
"Yes," She quickly pulled the delicate gold chain over her head, sadly adding, "It was still around her neck when I found her body." Fresh tears shimmered in her green eyes, as the grief for her friend resurfaced. The glittering green stone shimmered with power and hidden knowledge. It was pressed into the palm of his leather gloved hand.
"Then our last tasks here are finished and we must leave immediately." His fingers brushed her face in the lightest of caresses, acknowledging her sadness.
She felt a jolt of electricity right down to her toes. Anchoring her back to the present.
"Go through and have the guards patrol the perimeter of the city. If we lose Awyn, we loose our last sanctuary." He stated grimly.
She found tears swimming in her eyes. This man who had stood so calmly and faced death, defending his people, always thought first of his people's safety. Pride rose in her for this man. She may never understand why they had been drawn together, but she was suddenly glad that fate had done so. Jareth was an extraordinary Sidhe male; noble and strong, so often thinking of others before he thought of himself. She reminded herself that this was an often deadly trait for a leader. Shuddering with anxiety and dread at the possibility of loosing him to these killers.
"I'm not leaving your side." she insisted, firmly placing her hand on the wall of his chest. He instantly responded by covering her hand with his, trapping her palm against his heavy muscles.
He leaned down to kiss her soft mouth. There were shadows in her eyes, and she was trembling slightly, but she looked him in the eye and he could feel the resolve in her mind. As he pulled back, the night breezes washed over him, carrying scents and sounds from miles around them.
At once his golden eyes became flat and merciless. A sudden warning to his men escaped as he exhaled sharply. The enemy had found them. Not one or two but, if his acute sense of smell had not failed him, a virtual army surrounded them. The men were moving slowly through the moor, ringing the base of the stone circle's hilltop. He smelled their fear, their adrenaline, their sweat. He smelled their excitement. He read their intentions, their eagerness for the kill. "I will seal the portal after everyone else is through. Go!" His command left no room for negotiation.
Her hand stroked the strong muscles of his neck as she leaned closer. This close, she could see the flecks of gold and silver in his eyes. "If you are as much as scratched, I'll kill you myself." She said tensely. The aching in her heart was real and strong.
Smiling, he felt the curious melting in the region of his heart that she always caused. His mate was trying to be tough, but her voice wavered, her fear for his well-being filling his mind. He sent a empathetic wave of reassuring warmth and love to her as he leaned into her, brushing a soft kiss across her mouth. "I consider myself forewarned, my love." He murmured pushing her towards the gate.
She stumbled towards the pulsating light emanating from the circular opening of the great stone, fear and anxiety clawing at her soul, screaming at her to disobey his order.
The familiar tingling sensation of her second sight began, painfully at first, as though a hundred white hot needles pricked at the back of her eyes. Face flushed with a burning warmth, she felt her subconscious body dwindle, her mind telescoping into itself as the vision took form.
The pitch blackness surrounding her clouded. Eddy of coloured light danced amongst the midnight hews. Her disoriented mind churned with dizziness….
Then through the swirling haze, the premonition began to take shape…….Jareth lie on the ground. His head unnaturally angled. Blood soaked into the fertile soil beneath his lifeless form. A feathered arrow protruded from one shoulder. The hairs on the nape of her neck rose, and she was seized with a nauseating foreboding of the imminent fulfillment of this omen. Of impending disaster.
Her vision cleared as quickly as the certainty that, should she stay on her intended course of action and leave as he directed, Jareth would not survive the next hour.
She had been afraid before. Any being who didn't know fear in the midst of battle was an idiot and probably a dead one at that. Fear could be good. It could stop you from doing insanely stupid things and even sometimes keep you alive for another heartbeat, another breath, another hour, another day, another battle. This was different.
Dread ate at her, burning her soul. She wasn't sure which was worse, the sickening anguish she was certain to live if she left his side, or the fear that accompanied the plan forming within her mind.
His furious reaction would certainly prompt a stern lecture on the subject obedience to one's mate. In his definition of the concept anyway. Their individual understanding of the term had always been somewhat diverse, much to his distain, and occasionally to his extreme frustration.
In the end, however, he would see that her defiance had been the necessary course of action. The only course of action open to a reasonably sane person of good conscience.
Decision made, she slipped behind the keystone, concealing herself in shadows. They would go through the portal together, or meet death together. Looking around the stone, she saw the guards carefully retreating towards the gate.
One by one, they passed through. Clearly reluctant to leave his leader alone, the last guard vanished. A terrible roar of a hundred voices resounded through the night. The attack had begun.
Jareth spun towards the stone portal, his midnight blue cape swinging around him, concealing him in shadows as he raced the few hundred feet towards the opening.
The hilltop was suddenly alive with the movement of the assault. Jareth vanished then reappeared behind the closest attacker. The sickening snap of the man's neck was the only sound, she heard. The doomed fellow hadn't time for a warning to escape his lips, only the rush of wind that signaled his last breath. The cloak of darkness carried him closer to the portal and the next assailant in line. A shadow moving amongst shadowed places towards his next target. Unseen. Deadly.
This one was crouched low, behind a low stone, frantically searching the darkness for a target upon which he could aim his arrow. Shadows gathered around his body and caught him in a death grip, like a huge hand at his throat, slowly strangling the life out of him while his body dangled helplessly inches above the ground. Unceremoniously, he fell lifeless into the deep heather carpeting the soil.
Suddenly, he sensed a man rushing out of the darkness at him, his sword pointed towards his heart.
Jareth's cold eyes gleamed with deadly intent as he vanished into the darkness, then reappeared next to the man.
A leather gloved hand took control of the weapon, forcing the blade back around towards the swordsman. The killer screamed horribly as the blade that he had held, swiftly spun about. The vice-like grip of his victim's hands crushed his thick fingers, breaking bones, as he seized the hilt. With unimaginable strength, the blade now moved, inexorably, towards his own heart. Even as the doomed man screamed and poured his remaining strength into his injured muscles, he felt his own hand thrust the weapon upwards. Pleading black eyes locked on venomous golden ones, seeking mercy, yet knowing undeniably that none would be present. He stiffened as metal pierced flesh and muscle, burying itself to the hilt, within his chest. His punctured heart viciously pumped blood through the lacerated tissue, flowing over the hilt in steadily diminishing waves. Darkness gathered around his soul as a drowsy calm settled over him. The deadly glowing amber eyes staring into his, softened at the moment his heart stuttered, as though sorrowful for the kill.
"There! He's there, in the shadows next to Liam!!" a panicked voice exclaimed.
Jareth loosened his grip as the dead man slumped to the ground. Moving with blurring speed, he launched himself towards the gate, as the swooshing rapport of bows met his sensitive ears.
The arrow caught him high in the back of his shoulder, burning and tearing through his flesh and muscle, stealing his breath. It cut deeper when he impacted heavily on the soaked ground.
He needed to lie there a moment to rest, but the assailant who had succeeded in shooting him was reloading his bow, moving in for the kill. Thrusting his pain aside, he focused his fury on the enemy. Calling heavily on the foliage of the dark earth and the power of the sky, he quickly intensified the thunderstorm, camouflaging his presence in blinding explosions of white light.
The dark, wet earth shuddered beneath him as vines grew, twisting and turning, crawling towards his attacker then up the bowman's legs, pinning the man to the spot. They grew, twisting and entangling relentlessly.
The ensnared bowman howled an inarticulate cry as they tightened around his chest and neck, forming a garrote of living wood. The bow fell silently into the bracken as his hands flew to the strangulating obstruction. Desperate fingers clawed attempting to break the lethal hold, but the creepers continued to grow, racing around his neck again and again, tightening their murderous hold with each pass. A gurgling rattled signaled his demise beneath the animated wood.
They held their grip for a moment longer, awaiting the cessation of movement, then receding back to the ground, leaving a trail of bloody welts along the dead man's body.
Jareth was exhausted now, his strength draining away with each ferocious effort and the loss of blood. The din of another attack forced him into action.
The gate was merely a few meters away, and she would be waiting for him on the other side. He called on the storm again, focusing his pain to strengthen his intent. At once the rain strengthened. Not lightly, but in torrential sheets, slashing from the sky, drenching the land and pelting the enemy, as if the heavens had opened up and was intent on drowning the lot. He tried to gain his feet, stumbling with fatigue and agony as his shoulder protested the movement.
Terror seized her heart as she saw the events unfold before her eyes. The arrow lodging into his shoulder signaled the initial fulfillment of her premonition. An agonized cry of denial tore from her throat as she ran from her shadowed hiding place, towards him.
He turned as her whispered sob caught his ears. Disbelief and anger rose in him but was quickly replaced by the utter terror he felt at the risk into which she had placed herself. Feeling her resolve and intention to save him, he turned to look at her, his heart in his eyes, fear for her safety clawing at his soul. He focused his remaining strength into an imperious command, imbedded with the strongest strength of compulsion he had ever issued. "Get through!! Now!!"
The sight of her lover, soaking wet, weary, streaked with blood, his golden hair plastered to his head, nearly broke her heart. Pain sliced through her head, making her cry out as she fought the physical and mental demands of his order. Resolutely, she quickly closed the distance between them, and slipped her shoulder under his uninjured arm, assisting him to stand. His face twisted in agony as his wounded shoulder protested. She moved him to the keystone, her eyes widening in fear at the dimming light from within the circular opening.
The gate was closing as fast as Jareth's magick and strength faded. She fumed as she deduced that the arrow head must have been forged with iron, one of the few substances that could harm the Sidhe and block their abilities. Determinedly, she committed to implementing her plan.
Jareth was swiftly loosing consciousness and he sagged heavily against her as they reached the edge of the keystone. The portal could take only one person at a time, even when it was at full power. Now, in all likelihood, it would only permit one further transfer. However, she mused, there was more than one way to skin a cat.
The Faeid key had been the Sidhe's gift to the humans who had chosen to help the ancient creatures in stewarding the land. Mortals possessed magick as great as the Sidhe's own, but frequently denied or underused their gifts due to fear. Those that had embraced their true land born nature were able to work with nature and could, with the attunement necessary from the key, control the gates.
Generation after generation, it had been in Faeid possession, safe, respected and unabused. However, the key that had become the symbol to their cultures unity with man, was now the source of their undoing.
The key would allow her to briefly activate the gate, if she could quickly reach the lock above the portal.
Dragging his weakening form towards the flickering light of the threshold, she felt the burning sting of an arrow grazing her cheek. It shattered into sharp fragments as it impacted the granite surface of the stone, showering them with splinters. She had no time to weigh her options. The next volley would be more accurate. Speed and dexterity were risks she would need to bear.
She caught his face and fastened her mouth on his unconscious one. She tasted his fear of loosing her, his anger at her disobedience, his love for her that had grown with every moment they had shared.
Mind to mind, heart to heart, she filled him with the depth of her love for him. Assuring him that no matter what happened this night, she would always be with him. Completing him. In this life and the next. "Mind to mind, heart to heart, body to body" she repeated. They would always be that part of each other's soul that lived, loved and truly mattered.
Reluctantly she lifted her head. "I'll see you soon." Her voice was low, strangled, as if she was choking on her anguish, as she recovered the necklace from his pocket.
Placing it around her neck, she reached around his solid frame and obtaining the leverage she needed, pushed him into the portal. His form vanished with a flash of blinding white light, so intense that she stumbled back several paces.
As she regained her vision, her heart ached as she saw that the portal was no longer illuminated. The gate had closed.
"Sent him back to hell did ya?" The voice was behind her and dripping with venom and murderous intent. "You're going to take on us all by yourself?"
"Actually, " retorting with feigned bravado, "I thought I would leave the rest of you sick chaps for more qualified hands to tear into tiny little shreds." She looked meaningfully at the ground, smirking coldly.
He followed her gaze, astonishment crossing his features as he suddenly understood her implication. Beneath his feet, the ground slither, covering his boots in slimy mud. The snakes weaved their way quickly over and around feet, biting his ankles and legs, gouging mouthfuls of leather and flesh with they razor like teeth. Screaming as pain seared through his legs, he fell forward into the death squirming on the forest floor. Quickly the slithering coils encircled his body. They fed, bursting arteries and ripping flesh.
Alerted by his cry, one of his men came towards his writhing body. The man jumped back suddenly as the snakes paused, reveling the gaping holes torn in the flesh of his now motionless leader. Thousands of black eyes turned towards him. Marking him. , the snakes slithered off the body and towards him as he backed away.
Glancing behind her long enough to see that she had bought herself time and distance, she made a break for the gate. Launching her exhausted form backwards, she easily reached the stone.
Delicate fingers deftly slid over the rough surface searching for the key hole, in which the Faeid stone would fit. Reactivating the gateway home was her only escape now and as the men closed in behind her, she drove on, frantically reaching higher on the keystone. "Where is it??" her mind screamed.
The edge of the key hole suddenly scraped against her fingers, filling her with frenzied relief. Her free hand grasped the pendant tightly, cutting her palm on the sharp points of the star shaped setting. Her mind whirled; place the key; speak the words and she would be home in his arms.
A shadow rose up next to her like an apparition, solidly blocking her path to the opening. Terror beat at her skull as her eyes fell on the weapon in his hand. Her heart pound like a trapped sparrow within her chest. Then the realization settled on her.
There was no escape this time.
Jareth's grief would be a living thing when he learned that she was gone. He would be a wounded animal, ready to tear and rend in retaliation.
Sadly, the nature of their union would entrap his heart in grief, clouding his ability to love another until his death or in incarnate reunion within her next life.
Swept with calm, struggling to show no fear, she slowly raised her head and faced her fate. In time, Jareth would see the wisdom of her course. He was the king. He knew the price of leadership was sacrifice. Despite his grief, he would go on. It was his way to fulfill his responsibilities despite circumstance or loss. Even one as intensely personal as this would be. Their people would rely on his solid constancy and leadership to recover from this holocaust and in return, they would he would have their understanding and support. For him, however, grief would never turn. It would hold him in this painfully eternal moment, until they loved again.
The dark figure before her raised his swords high above his head.
She closed her eyes, her hand reaching for the necklace. She prayed to the living spirit of the earth. Beseeching her to safely conceal her people, to help her lover though this loss, to aid their souls in their quest to be together again…..reunited….in the next life.
Slowly she chanted the musical words of Jareth's ancient language, empowering the green stone with her enchantment. The words as ancient as time
Mar a bha
Mar a tha
Mar a bhitheas
Gu brath
Ri Tragadh
'S ri lionadh
The mighty sword arm swiftly descended.
A momentary arc of searing, white pain in her throat was quickly replaced by warmth and a calming sense of peace. Faintly she heard the tinkle of metal in the distance, as the necklace flew off her throat and landed in a crevice within the keystone.
Vines quickly concealed the treasure deep within the safety of wood and stone.
She repeated the prayer; chanting it over and over as she welcomed the glowing embrace of eternity……..
As it was
As it is
As it shall be
Evermore
With the ebb
With the flow
