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Aveta, Kendrew, and Amlodd rushed to the front of the church and faced the congregation, their frantic pleas for silence largely unheard.
‘What are they? What’s going on?’
‘Are they fae?’
The male witch with grey hair headed towards Aisling but was halted midway, much to his obvious annoyance. I guessed, by her intense expression, that Kendrew had put some sort of boundary between him and them.
‘Sit down, Marco Golightly!’ Amlodd bellowed. ‘Haven’t you caused enough trouble lately?’
‘You’re entertaining fae scum at our leader’s funeral?’ Golightly yelled. ‘And you think I’m the one causing trouble?’ He turned to face us all. ‘This is what we’re up against. All these years the O’Briens have mingled with our community, attending our annual convention in Glastonbury, treated as special guests. Now do you see? Do you see why we weren’t allowed to touch them? Because we’d have known instantly they weren’t witches. And the High Council has been complicit in this deceit! We’ve been fooled, used. There are enemies within, my friends. The Council has betrayed us all, and it’s time to fight back. We must take matters into our own hands and destroy Havok Pendragon and his like for good.’
Orlagh rushed to Aisling’s side and transformed into her true self, which only caused more panic. Not surprising really. They were an imposing sight—around seven feet tall if not more, with white hair, white skin, and silvery almond shaped eyes. And that shimmery aura around them both… I’d seen it before, and it still awed me.
Orlagh held up her hands. ‘Witches, please listen to me. We are not fae.’ She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. ‘We are the Tuatha Dé Danaan. The Shining Ones. The Gentry. We are descendants of the old gods.’
There was a stunned silence.
‘There are no Shining Ones any more,’ a witch called suspiciously. ‘They died out thousands of years ago. We got rid of them—us witches and humans. Drove them underground and underwater where they devolved into the fae.’
‘Do you deny the evidence of your own eyes?’ Orlagh demanded. ‘Not all our people were driven out, and those of us who remain are the bridge between your world and the fae.’
‘So youareon their side then?’ Golightly demanded, while around him most of the other witches eyed Orlagh with a mixture of awe and uncertainty.
Elinora Harbottle, who was sitting close to him, reached over, and tugged at his arm. ‘Sit down,’ she said crossly. ‘Show some respect.’
Golightly sneered, his eyes scanning the room for support. He clearly noticed a shift in mood because he suddenly did as he was told. It was quite clear that the witches believed Orlagh and were no longer feeling so brave or belligerent.
Orlagh waited a moment then transformed back into her usual, genial self. After a moment’s hesitation, Aisling did the same.
‘Listen to me,’ Orlagh said. ‘I promise you, most of the fae community wants peace. There’s no appetite for war with witches. Didn’t our people suffer enough in the last great wars? Don’t let the Pendragons stir you into acts of retaliation that could lead to all-out destruction. That’s exactly what they want. They don’t speak for the fae.’
‘And what about those three?’
Golightly nodded over to where I was sitting with my sisters. Evidently he’d quickly worked out our identity too.
‘They’re Pendragons, aren’t they? How do we know we can trust them?’
‘You know the prophecy,’ Aveta said firmly. ‘Wulfram Pendragon is destined to be our next Great Guardian. The new Arthur. ‘
‘He doesn’t look much like a Great Guardian to me,’ someone called. ‘Looks like a frightened kid, scared of his own shadow.’
My face burned with embarrassment, and I looked across at Emrick. He’d been surprisingly silent throughout all this, making no attempt to interfere with events or appease anyone. He caught my eye and gave me an understanding smile but didn’t offer me any advice or try to defend me.
Keely squeezed my hand even tighter, and I saw the concern in her face. Trinity and Romy were sitting on my other side and looked anxious. They were even newer to all this than I was. They were my kid sisters, and it was up to me to protect them. It was up to me to protect everyone in this room, even if they thought I was a “frightened kid”.
Standing, I regretfully released myself from Keely’s grip.
‘I’m hardly a kid,’ I said, wondering how I managed to sound quite so calm when my heart was racing, and my stomach seemed to be on spin cycle. ‘I’m almost thirty years old. Okay, so I haven’t got the Sword of Feidhlim yet, but that will find me when it’s ready. My sisters and I were reunited for a purpose. The prophecy’s unfolding. It’s my job to ensure peace between fae and witches, and that’s what I intend to do.’
Please don’t ask me how.
‘Fighting among ourselves will get us nowhere,’ I continued, ignoring that inner frightened voice. ‘All it does is play into Havok Pendragon’s hands. If we’re to succeed in our mission to avert war we must be smarter than that. We must work together. We have to trust each other.’
As everyone began to murmur amongst themselves, I headed to the front of the church to stand beside Kendrew and a dazed looking Titania, as well as Aisling and Orlagh.
‘Here we are,’ I said. ‘Two witches, two Shining Ones, and me in the middle. Symbolic, if you like. I’m the bridge between two old enemies who are at a dangerous crossroads. Do you really want another war after what happened the last two times? How many more lives must we lose? Zephyr Ambrose is gone. Let his be the last soul we grieve for.’
‘But the Pendragons want war,’ someone called. ‘You know they do. They’re not going to stop until that’s what they get.’
