Stone Song: The Isle of Destiny Series, page 18
“Bianca, I think it’s best if you stay here,” Clare said, putting her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I feel like I’m putting you at an unfair disadvantage.”
Bianca’s mouth gaped open. “Sure and you can’t think you’ll be leaving me behind?” she gasped.
“It’s just that… I’ve got a bad feeling about this. And you don’t have any powers. Why would I lead you into danger like this?”
“You’re not leading me. I’m going of my own accord. You’re welcome to try and stop me, but I’ll be on that mountain tonight whether you take me or not,” Bianca said, a mutinous expression on her face. “I’ll make Cait drive me.”
Clare glanced at Cait who just nodded in agreement.
“You’re sure? You’re really, really sure?”
“I’m sure. I’m fighting for my life too – not just for you to find the stone. Remember that,” Bianca said stiffly, her pride mortally offended.
Clare sighed and threw her arms around Bianca.
“I love you, okay? You’re like my sister. I’m just worried.”
Bianca sighed into her neck and hugged her back.
“Don’t pull that shite with me. You know I’m all in.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Clare thought about that concept – going all in – as they began their hike later that afternoon. Mount Brandon, about a forty-minute drive from Grace’s Cove, had several access points. Deciding to follow the traditional pilgrimage path, they’d arrived at a gravel car park with a little stream and a sign at the base of the path. Had there been no sign, it would have looked like every other green pasture with a stone fence in Ireland. It was only when Clare shaded her eyes and looked up that she saw the first of the crosses marking the pathway up the side of the foothills.
They’d chosen to hike single file, with Blake leading the front, the girls in the middle, and Seamus bringing up the rear. At the moment, they walked in silence, appreciating the scenery and staying alert for any traps.
Hopping a sheep fence, they kept climbing up the rolling green hill. A look over her shoulder showed the promise of a spectacular view if they reached the top, as the green foothills rolled away into nothing but stunning ocean vistas.
Turning back, Clare stayed focused on where she was stepping and went back to her thoughts about Bianca and her fearlessness. She’d always been that way – or at least as long as Clare had known her. Bianca exhibited an exuberance for life, and whether it was her latest class or her latest boyfriend, she always jumped in with both feet. Clare, by contrast, always dipped her toe in carefully, testing the temperature of the water first. She wondered what it was about herself that didn’t allow her to be so free with her emotions.
What was she really scared of?
She’d never been in love before, and aside from Bianca and her parents, had nobody that she loved unconditionally. Maybe Branna, perhaps, but she was still her boss so there were some conditions there.
Was that why she couldn’t say the words to Blake? Words that she knew he wanted to hear?
Feeling slightly ashamed that she hadn’t allowed herself to speak the words to Blake earlier today, she made a promise to herself that when this was all over, she’d be as honest about her feelings with Blake – and with everyone – as she could. No more getting caught up in her clinical science mind. Instead, it was time to embrace this new Clare, and allow her emotions to have more say in her life.
“Do you feel it?” Blake whispered over his shoulder and Clare glanced up, surprised that he could read her mind.
“I can,” Seamus said from the back and Clare rolled her eyes at herself. They weren’t talking about her thoughts – there was a palpable press of magick in the air. It seemed to grow thicker as they trudged along, passing the stations of the cross, each one numbered. When they reached number eight, they paused.
“Let’s shelter,” Blake called over the increasingly high wind.
Clare nodded, keeping her head down as the gusts threatened to pull her cap right off her head. At this elevation on the mountain, the land was steeper, but there were also large rocky outcroppings that jutted straight up from the side of the mountain. Blake led them around one taller than their heads, and they were immediately sheltered from the wind.
“Let’s settle in here for a moment,” Blake said, dropping his pack. Another large outcropping ran parallel to them, forming a makeshift shelter and protecting their spot from any prying eyes.
Though from the press of magick she felt on her skin, Clare doubted there was anywhere they would really be able to hide on this mountain.
“They’re here, aren’t they?” Clare asked quietly and Bianca whipped her head around, her eyes wide in her face, a dagger in her hand.
“I haven’t seen any Domnua yet, but the Danula are here,” Blake said.
“The Danula!” Bianca gasped.
“Our brethren,” Seamus said with a flash of a smile on his wind-reddened face.
“We’ve got backup,” Blake agreed, and Clare was surprised to feel the press of tears at her eyes. They weren’t in this alone.
“Oh… oh, I’m so glad. I’ve been so worried. Just us against god knows what,” Clare said, pressing her hands to her eyes and willing the tears away. Bianca bumped her shoulder with her own.
“Hey, we’ve never been in this alone. I think they were just biding their time, deciding when to show themselves, you know? Like saving the big guns for the final battle type deal?”
“Is that what you think this is? The final battle?” Clare asked.
“Feels right. Well, at least the final battle for our leg of it,” Blake said.
“The clues seem spot-on. The lunar eclipse feels right; I think all signs point to go,” Seamus agreed.
“But what are we looking for? I don’t even know what the stone looks like. I mean, do I need to run all over the mountain and pick up stones until one sings?” Clare asked, exasperation lacing her voice. Feeling unprepared and out of her element were two of her least favorite feelings.
“If it was that easy, the stone would have been found centuries ago,” Bianca pointed out.
Clare sighed, wrapping her arms around her knees as she watched the sun dip below the edge of the ocean.
“And what if I can’t find it?”
There. She’d said her greatest fear. Aside from herself and all of her friends dying on this mountain tonight.
“You will,” Bianca said confidently.
Clare turned to meet her friend’s eyes. “How can you be so sure?”
“I’ve never known you to not get what you go after,” Bianca said easily, turning back to look at the water. Gasping, she pointed. “Look!”
The full moon rose as the sun sank, two glorious spheres bypassing each other in the sky, always friends, but destined never to meet.
They watched in silence as the last rays of the sun’s light shot across the wintry grey sea, golden spears of light in the encroaching darkness.
“Look. In the light,” Seamus breathed.
And when Clare squinted, she made out what looked like arches and swirls, pinging back and forth from beam to beam, racing across the water to the base of the mountain.
“The Danula have arrived,” Blake said, his voice positively cheerful.
“And so have the Domnua,” Clare whispered, pointing to the silvery grey fog lurking in the dips of the foothills, creeping over the rounded green crests, advancing slowly up the side of the mountain.
“We must go. Now. I feel it,” Blake said, standing. “The battle begins at our feet.”
And so it was, Clare thought, her heart pounding in her chest, as she saw the golden and purple beams of light slip into the silvery fog and what looked like bolts of lightning zipping through the grey. It reminded Clare of what it was like to fly above a storm in an airplane, looking down at tumultuous grey clouds with brilliant bolts of gold and white light.
Except the fog was the evil fae and the golden bolts of light were the good.
Turning her back, Clare began to climb, the loose shale of the path slowing their steps, the increasing ascent of the fae making Clare want to race forward.
“Take your time,” Blake said, snatching her arm as she slipped on a particularly precarious piece of shale. She gasped as it clattered over a ledge and fell, shattering in pieces down the side of the mountain.
“You’ll do us no good if you die,” Blake said, his hand still on her arm as he guided her.
“I’m so nervous. I feel like I have to race to the top but I don’t know what to do or where to go.”
“The truth always reveals itself,” Bianca called back, reminding her of the clue, her voice but a tinny sound on the wind. They bent forward, their hiking poles digging into the side of the mountain as they made their way up, a meter at a time, while the battle raged fiercely below them.
“There’s a shelter. Believed to be St. Brendan’s home. If we find it in time, we can protect ourselves while we wait for the eclipse and plan our next step,” Bianca called, the words being torn from her mouth by the wind. Clare nodded, and they pushed forward, their headlamps shining small circles of light ahead of them.
The cold – oh, such cold – was beginning to seep into her bones. Clare kept her head down and wished dully for the wind to stop, just for a moment. What were they doing climbing a mountain in the middle of winter? If the wind didn’t fling them off the side of the mountain, the Domnua would certainly be happy to lend a hand.
What felt like several hours later – though was probably only one hour – Clare was close to giving up. She just needed to stop, to lay down, to cover her face from the punishing wind – then she heard a shout from Seamus.
“Here! It’s here,” Seamus called and Clare looked up to see his flashlight illuminating the stone walls of a house with no roof. It wasn’t full shelter, but the stones had been there for a long time and certainly weren’t in danger of blowing over tonight. They’d be sheltered on three sides and be able to look out over the mountain. It was the best they could hope for. Clare stepped eagerly behind a wall and gasped with happiness at the relief from the near-constant gusts of wind.
“I can’t believe we’ve made it this far,” Bianca puffed, her cheeks red and her eyes bright with excitement. “I didn’t think I’d make it. But I held my own!”
“Aye, that you did,” Clare agreed, taking a swig of water from the bottle that had been tucked in the side of her pack. Easing down to the ground, she leaned against a wall and studied the scene before them.
“The battle’s closer,” Blake observed.
It was true, too. As they’d slowly made their way higher on the mountain, the battle between the light and dark had raged on, and was now inching closer to where they were positioned on the mountain.
A soft wash of light from the moon illuminated the creep of the battle, and Clare shivered as she realized just how close it had advanced.
“They’ll have sentries who run ahead—” Blake began, then Bianca pointed.
“The eclipse! It’s starting!”
Clare’s mouth went dry as the light of the moon began to be slowly swallowed by the darkness.
Chapter Forty
“Arm yourselves,” Blake said immediately. They all stood, strapping various bits of weaponry to their bodies. Seamus had his magickal bow and arrow at the ready and Bianca held both a machete and a dagger in her hands.
Clare held only her small dagger. Perhaps its size was understated, but the power she felt pulsing from it told her not to underestimate its strength.
“I must go,” Clare said, suddenly certain of it. She couldn’t stay here with her friends; the Domnua were after her. And something was pulling her, tugging her out of the shelter and further toward the tip of the mountain. The stones at her neck and on her ring began to pulse gently as the moon slowly slipped into shadow.
“You must stay here where I can protect you,” Blake shouted over the increasingly loud howls of the Domnua, carried to them on the gusts of the wind.
“No.” Clare shook her head. “I have to go.”
Stepping from the shelter, Clare was almost bowled over by the wind. Turning, she began to press further up the path and gasped when a hand grabbed the hem of her coat.
“Bianca!” Clare said, turning to look at her friend.
“You don’t go alone,” Bianca gasped.
Clare looked past her to see Seamus and Blake bringing up the rear. Unable to argue, tears pricking her eyes, Clare pressed on, following only her intuition as she scanned desperately for some sign of the stone.
Clare gasped.
The wind had stopped. For one heart-stopping moment, Clare turned to smile at her friends in her relief at no longer having to battle the wind.
Only to see thousands of Domnua and Danula steps behind them.
They were no longer in front of the storm.
They were in the storm.
Blake was already turning, his sword out, as the battle tumbled over them, encompassing them instantly. Clare gasped and jumped back as a silver Domnua, spiky wings jutting from his back, flitted at her with a spear – only to be shattered by a golden warrior Danula, a brilliant violet shield on his arm, who stepped in front of her.
“Go,” the warrior ordered.
Clare kept going – climbing to what, she did not know.
And as the last shreds of light from the moon were shrouded, Clare began to fight, jabbing and pirouetting as Domnua shot at her, relentlessly pursuing her as she raced further up the side of the mountain. It became almost mechanical, her dagger ripping into flesh that disintegrated into a silvery streak, taking a few more steps before another would jump her. The Danula were fighting a noble battle, but Clare began to grew weary, convinced they would never overcome the constant deluge of Domnua.
Clare screeched and doubled over as she felt a shock of pain in her side. Turning, she slammed her dagger into a Domnua who had gotten too close, his knife slicing into her soft skin. A freezing pain began to creep into her side. Clare wondered dully if his knife was poisoned before she turned to find Bianca being backed up, a step at a time, by a huge Domnua, his deadly sword held aloft.
Blake, standing on a ledge and trying desperately to reach her, was being swarmed by five Domnua.
“No!” Clare screamed, raising her hand to throw a blast of power at Blake as she dove with all of her might in front of Bianca. The sword hung suspended in the air for a second, before it came down and pierced the aquamarine stone of her necklace, shattering it and driving its blade into her chest.
The last things she saw as she fell from the cliff were Bianca’s and Blake’s horrified expressions, frozen forever in her memory, as she slid into darkness.
Chapter Forty-One
A brilliant light pressed against her eyelids. Clare moaned and turned away from it, not wanting to come out of the dark. She’d felt no pain when she was there. But now the pain ran up her chest and through her heart, making her gasp for breath.
Cracking her eyelids open, she gasped.
“I’m dead,” Clare said as she stared at the heavenly form before her.
A goddess, most certainly, as there was nothing else this beautiful angel could be. With flowing locks of pure white, and brilliant blue eyes, and an otherworldly beauty that made Clare want to weep with joy, she was clearly in the presence of a much, much higher power.
“You’re in between.” The voice, like a million harps playing at once, whispered over her skin, soothing her.
“Bianca? Blake? Did they make it?” Clare gasped, holding her hand to the freely-bleeding wound on her chest.
“Let’s see for ourselves, shall we?” the Goddess asked, smiling at her and waving a hand. The white clouds dissipated and Clare could look down at the battle, still raging on the side of the mountain.
Seamus, Bianca, and Blake were still alive and holding their own, though the looks on their faces tore fresh pain through Clare’s gut.
“They’ve given up,” Clare whispered.
“Aye, they do feel defeated. But they still fight. They carry on. Look, look how he fights for you,” the Goddess said, pointing to Blake screaming in fury as he destroyed Domnua after Domnua. “And there, your blonde friend. She fights through her tears. See how fierce she is?”
And she was fierce, Bianca thought, tears in her eyes as she watched Bianca mow down another Domnua.
“Will they make it?” Clare asked, turning to look at the Goddess. “Please, I beg of you. Help them off the mountain.”
“You’ll have to help them yourself. You know where the stone is,” the Goddess said gently and Clare gaped at her.
“I… what? I don’t have the stone. I never found it. I failed,” Clare whispered, frozen, blood dripping through her palms, still pressed to the wound in her chest.
“Then you didn’t look hard enough,” the Goddess said gently. “Remember the clues. And what the stone stands for.”
Clare’s mind whirled desperately as she pressed hard on her wound, her life’s blood seeping from her.
Branna’s face swam into her mind, an image of the day in her shop when she’d handed Clare a folded piece of paper.
“Though truth often varies, the heart never tarries, a stone is found, whence it is born.”
“The truth,” Clare gasped, thinking the riddle through and trying to piece everything together. “It’s about love, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s about love,” the Goddess agreed, doing nothing as Clare felt her soul begin to slip from her.
“The truth is that I love Blake. I love Bianca. And Seamus, and Branna, and all my family and friends. I love this country, living this life, and every piece of good in this world. The truth is that the stone is within my heart, isn’t it?” Clare asked – and the Goddess beamed at her, her light multiplying a million times over, so that Clare had to shield her eyes with one bloody hand.
