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“I’ll do my best,” MacIlwraith said as he shook out his hands and faced the tree. He’d been understandably overwhelmed and had vomited, but the young academic quickly recovered and was all business again. “Just do me a favor, guys, and call me Nox from now on. I’m not half as smart as my father was and I feel like I’ve got to put on an act and impress you and that makes me…” His hand flailed next to his ear and he made a pfft! sound. “I can’t work like that.” He wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue, gagging. Not at all like an academic and more like a twenty-five-year-old punk in a ratty sweater.
Nelson reminded himself that that was exactly what “Nox” was—in addition to an academic savant—not a trained field agent. But he was offended by Boyle’s “little brother” comment and regretted that he couldn’t loan Nox his coat without raising more eyebrows. “Alright, Nox, tell us what all of this means,” he prompted.
“Thanks. Let’s start with the tree. Druid means ‘knower of the oak tree’ and they’re sacred to many practices. This particular tree was selected because of its size and this area is wide and flat enough to host a large gathering.” He looked up at the sky and around them. “We might want to check the coordinates to see if there’s any numeric significance or if there were any known witches or druids in the area to explain why this spot was chosen.”
“Got it,” Nelson said as he flipped a page in his notepad and added it to his immediate “to-do” list.
“Looks like there were torches.” Nox gestured at the holes in the ground dotting the perimeter. “If you were paying attention during the lecture—which you were—you’ll recall that fire represents rebirth, immortality, power… And makes it easier to see in the dark. The antlers are totems of male strength, energy, fertility… Their arrangement implies sun worship and the presence of a horned spirit suggests an offer or an attempt to consort with a queen or goddess, as most kings are wont to do,” Nox murmured as he drifted around the sculpture.
“Why are you so sure this is connected to the Tuath Dé? You said they were a mythological super race and nothing more than folklore. Any cults organized around those deities were wiped out when Christianity swept into Ireland.”
“That’s exactly what I said. Verbatim, Nelson,” Nox countered, leaning around the tree and raising a brow at him but Nelson shrugged.
“It just stuck,” he said dismissively. “What else?” He asked as he waved his notepad at the altar. They were obviously looking at some monster’s meticulously crafted ritual. This wasn’t a random collection of items or cosplaying.
“Right,” Nox said and shook his head. “The Tuath Dé were a mythological super race and folklore. That’s all they should be, but around ‘66 some hippies and new age druids started a new underground Tuath Dé and they’re what we’d call millenarians. They believe in the coming of the Dagda, Eochaid Ollathair, the All-Father…” His head tilted and Nox’s hand swept in front of him, mimicking the arc of the antlers around the body. “He’s often compared to Odin but is more of a…Father Nature. The sun signifies rebirth, power, divinity…”
“Rebirth?” Bixby humphed at the victim, then signaled for his techs to take her down. “How does murder equal rebirth?”
Nox sighed heavily. “Samhain’s coming and what is always required for any birth? Except for one, if you’re a follower of Jesus Christ,” he corrected, then pointed at the crown on the victim’s head. “Various kings in Gaelic and Gallic traditions took brides, be it literally or symbolically, on Samhain in order to gain the gods’ favor so crops and wombs would flourish. The new Tuath Dé believes the Dagda is waiting under a mound in Ireland to be reincarnated into the body of the new Dagda. They mean to bring about his return by offering him six brides on Samhain. That’s his symbol,” Nox said, gesturing at the ground and the burns on the victim’s chest as she was finally cut free and lowered onto an open body bag.
“And how do you know she’s connected to Mila Cleary and Rachel Martin?” Nelson asked and silently prayed Nox was aiming from the hip.
“Look at her, Agent. She is practically identical to the other girls. She looks like something from a Celtic or Norse manuscript and I expect that we’ll find she’s a novice witch or a regular at an occult shop. I mean, what are the odds that someone’s taking red-headed coeds who are into the occult and some totally unrelated killer chose a redhead for his super duper occult shrine?”
“Check all the occult shops,” Nelson said as he raised his notepad and wrote the words on the proper page. He hadn’t even known that Mila and Rachel existed before Felton pushed their files at him, but the thought of them like this made Nelson sick. Something didn’t make sense, though, and he paused. “Why cut out her…womb? If she’s supposed to be a bride and part of a Samhain ritual, why is she here and why did they cut out her womb?” His voice had stayed even and he hadn’t raised it, but the brutality of it infuriated Nelson.
Nox nodded grimly at the technician bagging the tissue that had fallen into the cauldron. “I have a theory. The old kings of Ireland were way more metal than the modern British monarchy. If there was a particularly rough drought or an illness took out too many people, they cast the king into the bog and a new king was crowned.”
“That’s harsh,” Bixby noted and Nox nodded in agreement.
“It gets worse. Nipples were just as symbolic for fathers and kings as they were for mothers. You know, nursing and nurturing. Suckling a king’s nipples would be part of a tribute ritual. So, when an old king was taken out of commission, they took his nipples from him so he couldn’t receive tribute in the afterlife. For some reason, this girl didn’t make it to the Samhain ritual so her womb was taken and offered in the cauldron.”
“And what was the ritual supposed to look like?” Nelson asked, hoping it wasn’t like this.
“Still a lot like this,” Nox said apologetically. “But with an orgy first as part of the offering and sacrifice to the Dagda. Whoever the new king is, he’ll need six brides before Samhain to welcome the Dagda and bless the new reign.”
Bixby sneered in disapproval and shook his head. “I can get on board with an orgy as long as everyone else is on board.”
“My man,” Nox said as he offered Bixby his fist for a quick bump. They offered each other faint nods, then became serious again. “For some reason, she took herself out of the rebirth ritual or she was deemed unworthy. They offered her womb as sacrifice and so that she couldn’t be a mother in the afterlife.”
“She escaped,” Nelson stated and pointed at the victim. They had yet to zip the bag closed. “Look at the bottoms of her feet. She ran. And she ran hard from all the cuts and bruises.” He felt another visceral tug and the urge to yell, but focused on the details. “I’ve seen cuts like that before.” He took a few steps closer to the bag and the stretcher. “Looks like she tripped and crawled through concertina wire. Whatever she was running from, the running’s what killed her,” he said as he took in all the deep cuts on her forearms and legs. A woman her size and in her condition would have quickly bled out in the elements.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Bixby said as he joined Nelson next to the victim. “She looks malnourished and like she’d been restrained. We had that cold snap and the nights have been real nasty lately. Hypothermia would have come on quick if she was sick and hungry and losing blood,” he murmured and Nelson nodded.
“She’s got bruises around her wrists and ankles and she’s missing nails.” He turned back to Nox. He had backed up to the altar to within a hair of where the victim had been mounted. “You might be onto something as far as the victims being connected,” he admitted as he took a few large strides to the tree. “What are you doing?” He whispered.
“Seeing the vision from this angle. It’s not just about facing the altar, it’s also about her. She refused to be one of the Dagda’s queens and bring him back and there’s a ‘You will see this’ element to her placement here. They plucked out her vision and replaced it with this. Look, Agent,” Nox said as he leaped forward and gripped Nelson by the arms, spinning them around and trading their places.
“I’d rather not.” Nelson pulled his shoulders in and tilted forward so he wouldn’t contaminate the evidence. But he saw it as soon as he looked over Nox’s shoulder at the clearing around them. The sun had set but Nelson could imagine the light shining through the branches and the antlers. With the torches, it would have looked like she was standing in the middle of a chandelier if she had been alive and her eyes had been open. His gaze flicked back to Nox’s and Nelson was mesmerized once again by the flashes of gold in his soft blue eyes.
“What do you see, Agent?”
He imagined Nox there, guiding the ritual as flames danced around them. “Light.”
“Tuatha,” Nox whispered. “A new age of glorious light.”
“What?” Nelson asked, giving his head a shake and breaking the spell. “What does that mean?”
