Page 77 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“Has anyone ever tried just… talking to the Rachainn?”

Both Niamh and Shea laughed at me.

“What? Is that so farfetched?”

“Yes,” they both said.

“So humour me for a moment.” Turning, I tried my best to position both Niamh and Shea in my view. “Humour me on this — what do the Rachainn truly want?”

Both of their faces grew grim. Niamh was the one who narrowed her eyes and answered me. “The first of the Rachainn were two pixies; Ivy and Niall. Ivy was of Cluaineach, Niall was… Niall was from Reultan.”

“R-reultan? Where is that?”

Niamh and Shea shared a look, the latter sighing and motioning for Niamh to continue. “Well, we don’t think it exists anymore. It was the fifth kingdom. But it’s been centuries since anyone has seen a pixie from there. Either they are lost to us, or they choose to distance themselves from Saoghal. It’s hard to say.”

“But… where was it?”

Both Shea and Niamh only lifted a pointed finger to the heavens.

“That’s Speur, isn’t it?”

“Beyond Speur. Within the stars themselves.” Shea said, her eyes full of wonder for the first time.

“Anyway—” Niamh repositioned herself on her folded knees, excitement in her voice, “—they were the first known pixies to try to defy the laws of Saoghal. When it became apparent that they were mates, they thought to defy all five kingdoms in the pursuit of remaining together.”

I couldn’t help but frown. “But that’s… that’s not a bad thing.”

“It is to us, Olivia,” Shea warned.

“It was small at first. They stormed the streets of their respective kingdoms, chanting and berating the townsfolk with their nonsense. But then more voices were heard, joining in alongside the two. From there, their movement only grew. Which was fine, for the longest time, until fanatics within their group started to become violent. That was when each of the kingdoms signed their decrees, banishing any who associated themselves with the movement.”

Shea nodded along. “Banished from the kingdoms, they took up new names, dropping any association with Saoghal. They called themselves the Rachainn, peeled their ears from their heads, and decided to start a new life.”

“And the pixies of Saoghal let the Rachainn go,” Niamh sighed, glancing up to the sky above us. “Until their violence spread into the human world. They thought that they could live as the fairies lived — amongst the humans. But they can’t.”

“But I’ve never heard of any violence such as what you speak of.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Shea groaned. “Saoghal worked tirelessly to cover up the Rachainn tracks. The healers have pùdar balgan-buachair, a powdered substance that can clear memories. So we travelled from disaster to disaster, cleaning up their messes. Until several decades ago, when the Rachainn went quiet.”

Niamh looked to Shea with a heavy setting of her brows. “What if… What if this whole time they haven’t been quiet? Would King Ronan have just stopped telling us about them?”

“It’s possible.”

“Why?” I barked.

“Well, because of Queen Aoife.”

I couldn’t help but to gasp. “It was the Rachainn who killed her?”

“Killed?” Shea nearly fell off of her leaf by how quickly her body snapped backwards. “Queen Aoife wasn’t killed by the Rachainn. She became a Rachainn.”

“W-what? But Rory told me she was dead?”

“She is.” Niamh frowned again. “Because King Ronan killed her.”

Shea leaned back, tucking her knees to her chest and hugging them to her body. “I’ve always wondered about that, you know. They say for one mate to kill another is so frowned upon by Cernunnos that he curses them.”

Niamh shrugged at her companion all while chewing at her lower lip. “This is all very doom and gloom,” she sighed, “but to answer your question, Olivia, greater people than you and I have tried to reason with the Rachainn. But they will settle for nothing but the utter downfall of Saoghal.”