Moon Harper - Pt 3


 
Moon Harper - Part 3
 
by Armond
 
 
I am now Shauna Deirbhile, and with my harp á€ine, I work miracles with my music. I'm dealing with a lot, hey? Mere days ago I was clueless Sean Derhill. Turning into a teenage girl has become the least of my worries, for I cannot explain the magic that flows from my harp strings, and it frightens me. The issue may be moot; the Fomors have marshalled all their resources to stop me from working a ritual that will switch me back. They want me dead dead dead.
 

 

~o~O~o~

 

X. October 29 Saturday 2AM
 
 
A hive of bees buzzed in my head; what am I?

Leolin and Chevonne could not stop talking about what I’d done and said. I’m sure I seemed catatonic to them. Maybe I was.

We whizzed along at mach speed again in Leolin’s Charger; said Knight throwing out the occasional Fianna curse at himself —colorful those- for not taking I-95. No, we traveled some no name two-lane crowded with trees. Stir that in with 2-frickin-AM, dark clouds eclipsing the moon, and the feeling of being chased by what I now assumed to be an entire race of bogey men, and the whole thing added up to Stephen King central.

But wait, there’s more! We zoomed to God-knows-what in Boston; a Danaan fortress nestled in the center of town? How could that be and no one know? So I asked.

“Glamour,” Chevonne said. The magical races possess a chameleon like ability to project a ‘normal’ appearance to Ords. The Boston Danaans rely overly much on it.”

Cloaking an entire stronghold? I wasn’t buying.

“Are you sure? I saw them; leather man in the car the other night, and I peeked in at Craig when you had him in a freeze spell.”

“Caugrch, not Craig,” Leolin growled from front seat. “And we used a stasis spell-”

“-she’s not getting any of this, Leo,” Chevonne said.

She had switched to the back seat, to be near me. Not sure why …maybe she was scared I’d jump out of the car once I figured everything out. It’s an option.

“I could tell you the reason you see through the Fomors glamour is because you are in Darcy’s body, and Danaan have a natural immunity, but…” she took my hand in hers, “you’ve seen them before, haven’t you?”

I nodded, and whispered, “When I was a kid, I would see, um, creatures …and Mom would-”

“Tell you they didn’t exist?” Chevonne said.

I shook my head. “No, the opposite; she said to stay away from them, that they were dangerous to me, and I…”

I gazed at the dark blur of trees outside; I didn’t want to finish the thought, for it meant my mother knew. She knew about all this. A hand caressed my cheek.

“Talk to me, love, tell me what’s wrong,” Chevonne said.

á€ine sat next to me, silent for now; I had the feeling she was letting me …digest it all. I ran my hand along her smooth neck; she felt …no …she was …alive to me.

“I thought, you know, as strange as this body swap was, this deal was doable. Spend a few interesting days as Darcy, switch back, and voilá , done. But …things are happening I can’t explain. I can do things with my harp, impossible and even frightening, and …the name you called me, Shauna. Before I announced it, you thought of me as Darcy, or Sean-as-Darcy, but now I’m Shauna; I bet you can’t think of me any other way.”

You are Shauna, á€ine said.

“We aren’t stupid,” Leolin called back. “You are the Fomor’s ‘child of prophecy.’ I pray to Danu we can get you to the Sanctuary so we can protect you.”

I’d gone from bratty girl to what in his eyes? Potential weapon against his enemy? “Yeah, I bet you can’t wait to let your folks look at me and see what I’m good for against the Fomorians.”

“That’s not fair! I do not see you that way,” Leolin barked, and Lord, he sounded like he meant it.

“Would it help if we told you the prophecy Caugrch spoke of,” Chevonne asked.
I nodded, though what I would learn was sure to depress me.

“A thousand years before Nostradamus, the Fomorians had their own Nostradamus, the seer Cethlenn. She was wife to Balor the one-eyed, their leader and god; he could kill you with a glance, and…”

Kill you with a glance? Bet he didn’t get many party invites.

Pay attention, Shauna, á€ine chided in my head, this is important.

“…among her many predictions,” Chevonne continued, “Caugrch said one of the biggies was a daughter of the Dagda, he whom we call the Good God, would come. Cethlenn warned if this daughter was initiated into Danu’s mysteries, she would forever tip the balance of power between the Danaans and Fomorians. The Fomors have watched for such a daughter to be born ever since. Watched so they could kill her before she could be initiated. Several years ago, the scrying mirrors of the Fomorian mages started flashing images of Darcy. But now Leo and I think, they were really seeing-”

“-Me? Impossible! I wasn’t born a girl! My father wasn’t the Dagda, right? And-”

“-Shut UP everyone,” Leolin shouted, as he stomped on the brakes, sending us into a screeching sideways stop. “We’ve got trouble.”

In front of us stood a gray fog wall. I turned around, to see another stood behind us, too.

“Is it …them?” I said, breathless. “What do they want?”

“To kill you.” The car door opened. By itself. “Chevonne, take her and run for the trees. Find somewhere safe and shield her. I’ll make a stand here.”

We exchanged glances; silently saying ‘was this the last time we’d be seeing each other?

Chevonne grabbed my hand while I grabbed á€ine, and we ran into the frozen forest.

Behind Leolin shouted, farch newid and I turned, to see a mounted knight bathed in greenish glow:
 

 

“He’s …he’s…”

“A Fianna Knight in full armor mode,” Chevonne said, dragging me away from the road and deeper into the wood. “They are a wonder to behold. But not invincible. If there are too many…”

We soon lost sight of him, but knew where he was, for soon we heard the clang of his sword, and occasionally, screams in the dark.

When we stumbled into a small clearing, Chevonne murmured “this must do” and cast a circle, activating the elements far faster than I’d imagined possible.

She spread her arms wide and chanted darien, which I now knew meant ‘shield’. A gauzy dome enveloped us.

The sounds of clanging sword metal grew louder, more rapid. The number of bloodcurdling screams tearing the night also rose. I wanted to scream and run. Instead I held her hand, clasping tight.

“Is our plan to wait for Leo to …dispose of …whoever’s attacking?”

She nodded. “They know we are here. They also know with a Fianna Knight as a protector, they must first kill him before they can move on us. We will know if the battle goes poorly for Leo if we hear him fire his guns.”

I blinked. “Why?”

“They will have broken through his Fianna defensive enchantments.”

This is no plan! á€ine growled to me. Open to me; I’m going to teach you a song.

“What? Now? Why?” I said.

“Think magical armor,” Chevonne said. “Think glamour and a shield combined, I’m told-”:

“-Sorry, I was talking to …my harp. She has another plan in mind.”

“She’s alive? Like a person?”

Are you ready?

“To learn a new song? Are you kidding? How can I concentrate, when Leo fights for his life and ours too?”

The sword clangs stopped, replaced now by the rapid popping of an Uzi. Oh crap.

The world flip-flopped again, as when I switched bodies with Darcy, only this time I didn’t lose consciousness. Now I felt stretched and taut, but otherwise couldn’t move.

“This is a favorite of his,” á€ine said, her voice different this time, sounding like …mine. “It’s called Song of Reconciliation.”

His who? I never asked, because when the notes started flowing, I realized…

…I was the harp!

I was sound …vibrationenergy …the infinite silence between …I was… I don’t have words to …words couldn’t begin to…

When á€ine whispered, Don’t even try, I realized I’d returned to my body of flesh. And I knew the song, my fingers, my body could replay it with ease.

“Danu, what a song!” Chevonne’s eyes were teary, but then she blinked several times. “Wait! I don’t hear Leo anymore; I think he must be…”

From the darkness, we heard feet crunching frosty ground and garbled curses. The Fomorians were coming. Chevonne grabbed my arm. “Run, Shauna! I’ll delay them a few moments.”

No no no! I’d grown close to the feisty priestess over the past days and couldn’t abandon her.

“But then they’ll kill you too!”

She grabbed my shoulders. “I don’t know what you are, but for Danu’s sake they must not kill you! Now go!”

We are not running! á€ine said Wait for him. He will come …I hope.

Something did come.

Chevonne heaved a huge sigh. “Blessed be; we’re saved! Danu is here!”

A figure materialized, just beyond Chevonne’s domed shield.

“All is well, my dears, lower your shield so we may leave this fell woods.”

Danu? I didn’t know what Chevonne saw, but —though I had never met her- I was pretty sure this creature wasn‘t the Mother goddess:
 

 

“Yes, Great Mother,” Chevonne choked, -I heard tears there too- “I will lower it at once.”

When she started to raise her arms, á€ine screamed, Grab her! Don’t let her lower her shields!

I threw my arms around her waist; I meant to wrestle her to the ground. I wasn’t sure how that would go, since I couldn’t weigh more than 100 now.

“What are you DOING! She’s Danu! The Mother of All! She’s...”

A vibration resonated as I touched her; a clear clean ringing.

Chevonne shook her head, blinked at the woman before us, and said, “...a Fomorian sorceress, glamouring me. Dammit! I …don’t know how you managed it, but thank you Shauna Deirbhile, for stopping me from committing a fatal and —erm, novice- mistake.”

“Er, you’re welcome.” How did I do that, á€ine?

You aren’t ready to know.

Great! My harp knows more about what’s going on than I do.

Damn straight.

“Must we do this the hard way, Priestess?” the Fomorian said. “I am called Ldul, perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

Aw, shit,” Chevonne whispered. She stiffened her back and stood. “I am honored you have sought me out; shall we duel to decide this issue?”

Ldul barked a laugh. “I did not ‘seek you out,’ as you say. You disabled our tracking mark, which was impossible -neat trick, that- so we positioned garrisons on all roads in to Boston. I am honored the kill has come to me; Farve will be pissed. Lower your shield, release the girl to me, and you shall live.”

“Is she, ya know, good?” I whispered.

“Way out of my league; Tam might have a chance.”

“This is not a ‘take you time to mull it over,’ offer,” Ldul said. “Let me sweeten the pot. “If you don’t die from my first attack, I shall give you into the care of these fine gentlemen. They’re upset at the loss of so many brothers to the Fianna Knight and are in need of comforting. Lazgorth! Orgug!”

Two hissing and gnarled semi-humanoids scrapped their way out of the wood gloom to stand next to the sorceress; I felt Chevonne flinch at the sight of them.

“Well, Priestess?” Ldul said. “Do you choose to give her to me, or die? Her fate is the same, either way.”

“Does your harp have any bright ideas? I figure my shields will survive one of her attacks; two, tops.”

Stall! I feel him near.

“Feel who near?” I said.

“What?”

“Sorry, Chevonne, she says stall.”

“I was hoping she would tell you to play a lament so powerful, they would all perish from sorrow.”

As a last resort, á€ine said, for you would also kill Chevonne and the knight, too, if he yet lives.

“Well?” Chevonne said.

“Not an option. If I do-”

“-Time is up! llosgi” Ldul shouted. And roaring flames engulfed us.

I thought we were toast, but soon I realized the flames passed over and around us. After what seemed an eternity of blinding heat, the flames stopped.

“You held, you-”

Oh God! Blood rolled down the Priestesses nose and tear ducts! “Chevonne, what’s-”

“-Such power she has,” Chevonne whispered. “I gave all I had …more than I had-”

Chevonne slumped to the ground as her shield faded. I grabbed her in my arms, but …she was limp, and …I felt no pulse.

“Your turn,” Ldul chirped.

Sorrow washed over me, and I raised á€ine.

I didn’t know if I had a chance of strumming a few notes before she incinerated me, but damned if I wasn’t going to try to inflict some pain on the bitch!

I learned something when á€ine and I switched; she could take any form of harp I chose. Play a lament? Hell no! I’d shift á€ine to Paraguayan harp form, spin out Pajaro Campana , and make this murderess’ head explode!

Shauna stop! No need, á€ine said. He has come.

“So there’s where my harp has run too!” A voice boomed from behind. “I’ve searched the realms for you, if ya blasted thing.”

A giant man crashed through the woods. Red headed, red bearded, he carried a steaming cauldron in his left arm and an oak sized club in the other.

The Dagda, your father, is here.
 

 

~o~O~o~

 
XI. October 29 Saturday 3AM

And now, this …god? stood before me. A god my harp claimed was my father?

I don’t remember falling down the rabbit hole, nor drinking potions in ‘drink me’ bottles, nor ever agreeing to be Alice.

I might have tried to enjoy the Lewis Carol madness, except Leo was dead; Chevonne lay beside me, with her life force bleeding out and…

llosgi,” Ldul screamed,

…a crazy sorceress was trying to fry me.

As her fire ball streamed toward us, the giant swung his club as a bat, hitting the flaming sphere back at the Fomor. This was an unexpected maneuver for Ldul, for she had no blocking shield in place; the fire caught her in the midsection, and carried her as a comet into the night sky.

“A Sixer!” Dagda said. And like that, where the woods were filled with nightmares moments before, now there were no signs of Fomorians, anywhere; only night wind through trees.

“Come, Harp,” he said, but I heard á€ine in the word. The giant held his hand, and á€ine trembled in my arms, but did not move.

The Dagda’s bushy red brows raised. “I said come.”

No great Dagda, á€ine answered, for I am no longer your harp; I am hers.

“Are you now? Prove it! Play a tune for me, lass, on your harp!”

“Play something?” I shrieked. Chevonne’s hand was cold in mine. “Are you insane? My friends are dead!”

Shauna! All rests on this, even their lives, á€ine said. Play!

How could I play given all that had happened? What could I play? When all else fails, a harpist reaches into his —er her- wedding bag mix and pulls out Pachelbel's Canon in D, or Greensleeves. I went with Greensleeves . Which came out far more up tempo than I could have imagined, given my black mood.

I opened my eyes, to find the Dagda seated cross-legged before me, staring wide-eyed. He stroked my face with his massive hand.

“Of Ainge and Brigit am I aware, but a third daughter? I pay more heed to when me pants are down or up.”

From what little I knew of him, The Dagda was called ‘The Good God,’ but I was figuring out the title didn’t refer to moral goodness. He seemed a lustful lout.

He is ‘good’ in the sense of being best at what he does, warrior, artist, mage, and powerful ruler, á€ine said, then she spoke aloud, -or in both our minds, I wasn’t clear how this worked-

“She is Shauna Deirbhile.”

“Ah. Well then, Shauna Deirbhile, as ye have the knack, you may use my harp for a bit. Treat her well, though, or you’ll be hearing from me. And…”

He stood; I craned my neck far back to see the ruddy face towering high above me.

“…drink this.”

From somewhere, out of thin air, he produced a silver goblet, which he dipped into his cauldron before handing it to me.

I blinked at the liquid in the cup; it fizzed. “What is it?”

“Not sure what I had in me bowl last; pig soup I’m thinking? Drink! You’ve a touch of Formor taint to ye, and this will fix you right up. Give a drop to your friends, too.”

With that, he strode into the dark woods, chuckling, ‘another daughter …who knew?’

I blinked at the cup. “Pig soup?”

Drink! It is from the Cauldron of Rebirth, á€ine said.

So I did. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this Rebirth liquid, but it tasted like Fresca.

Now pour some into Chevonne’s mouth, á€ine said.

I lifted her head; she was so cold. Dead. I pushed her lips and teeth apart to pour the liquid in. Most ran to the side, but some went in her mouth.

Nothing happened.

Leave her! Find Leolin! The qualities of the elixir last but a short time.

“But…”

Run!

I gently lowered her head to the frozen ground, and ran to the road carrying the cup. Though the road was slick in many places with a dark fluid —blood?- I didn’t see him. I panicked, running many yards up the road, as the liquid fizzed in the cup. Was I imagining, or did the bubbling grow fainter?

Over there! A body in a ditch, pin-cushioned by gnarled spears.

Leo!

I raced to him, and set the cup to the side. I started the grisly task of pulling the spears from his body; I figured on the off chance the ‘elixir’ worked, its effects might be negated if his body was, ya know, still filled with spears.

Once I’d pulled them free, I forced the brew into his mouth. And waited.

And waited.

“Hey! You ditched your harp; I thought you might …need it?”

I almost jumped out of my skin; I did not hear her coming! Chevonne stood next to me, holding á€ine. The priestess looked confused, frightened, and so alive.

Leolin shuddered, then coughed.

I scrambled back to avoid being knocked over when the warrior sprang to his feet.

“My sword! Where…?”

He looked down, to see his shirt shredded in places where the spears hit …but found no wounds.

“What happened?” Leolin said.

“I remember you dying, and …I must have too when Ldul…” Chevonne’s voice was soft. “What did you do, Shauna?”

Don’t tell them, á€ine said, as I picked her up. They aren’t ready to know…

I’m not ready to know, I answered.

“Can we go?” I said. “Those things could slither back any moment, and I wanna get out of here and-”

Chevonne and Leolin wrapped me in their arms; I felt small between them, small and safe and …cherished.

“You saved us; somehow brought us back to life…” I wasn’t sure which of them spoke; I was so thrilled they were alive. “We won’t forget, Shauna. Ever.”
 


~o~O~o~

 
XII. Saturday October 30 noon, somewhere beneath Beacon Hill, Boston

When you read the history of the Sidhe, or Fair Ones, (or l'histoire mythique de l'Irlande et des Tuatha Dé Danann, if you want to be pompous), you learn after the Sons of Mil invaded Eire, the Danaans retreated ‘under the hills’.

When my Mam told stories of these times, I figured the Danaans went to some magical underground kingdom where they feasted night and day on endless plates of meat and rivers of ale.

Perhaps they once did, but in 21st century Boston, the fair folk literally carved a vast subterranean compound beneath Beacon Hill. Chevonne told me the Danaans have, over time, inserted themselves into positions of power within human society. And why not? With their glamour and magical abilities, they were born for politics.

Turns out, the massive billions in cost overruns for the Big Dig (or Big Dug, I guess, now it’s finished) were due to the secret construction of the Danaan sanctuary.

To be more precise, the official highfalutin name of this underground palace is the ‘Prelacy of the Great Mother’. Chevonne promised to explain the title, but so far that riveting chat hasn't happened.

Equipped with secret entrances to roads and the Charles River, the facility was massive, even including its own underground tunnel and rail system:
 

 

More jaw-dropping? The complex’s integration of tech with magic. So, an example — how about HD security monitors lining the art deco vaulted corridors, but otherwise the cavernous place was lit by green glowing fairy lanterns; think fairy-techno -steampunk.

I’d spent the last hour pacing the room we were locked in. That’s right, locked in. When we arrived, they whisked Leolin away for a debriefing with his fellow Knights, and herded us into our cell, er, I mean, room.

Though the sanctuary guards who escorted us said this was a precaution for my safety, I felt under arrest.

At least Chevonne was here; though I still fumed they’d taken á€ine to give her a brief magical security scan. That was two hours ago.

“I’d tell you to stop pacing, but you look so damned cute, my heart wouldn’t be in it.”

“Arrrgh!”

You heard me; ‘arrrgh’ was my witty retort. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

“What is taking so long with á€ine?” I more whined than spoke. “And why are they discussing my future without me present? Something’s wrong.”

Another reason I assumed I was under arrest? These Boston Danaans subjected Chevonne and I to a battery of ‘inspections’ to ensure we were free from human or Fomorian pathogens. We were poked, prodded, dusted and showered. They didn’t allow us to wear our ‘street’ clothes either; issuing us instead white ugg boot things and virginal white dress-smocks. So Chevonne’s 'cute' remark baffled the hell out of me; these duds were fuggly.

“If you ask me, these burlap sacks are another way to keep us from bolting. Can you imagine running around outside dressed like this?”
“Burlap?” Chevonne said, her eyebrows arching. “Are you crazy? These are top of the line fairy dresses.”

Fairy dresses, hey? Was she seeing something I wasn’t when she gazed on ‘cute’ little me? I tried imagining a fairy gauzed me:
 

 
I shook my head, trying not to spiral into the creepy zone of getting turned on by an image of my new self.

As a short-timer female, my style sense was woefully deficient, but I wasn’t that fashion stupid to think what I wore resembled a ‘fairy dress’. I walked to Chevonne and touched her arm, producing the same bell vibration I had in the forest. She blinked as she looked first at me, then herself.

“Those assholes! They glamoured me. I am so going to fry their asses.”
The young priestess officially moved from annoyance at our treatment to outright anger. Her rage paused a moment though, as a something occurred to her.

“How …did you do blow away the illusion like that, and back in the forest too, with Ldul. How?”

The answer had something to do with a god who claimed me as his daughter, but I did not want to think about what it meant; change of subject time.

“More importantly,” I answered, “why aren’t you in some conference room with these folks planning how I get my body back from Darcy?”

“Because they are," Chevonne rolled her eyes, "FOGM priests and priestesses, and I am merely a quaint and rustic follower of Danu.”

“Huh?”

“Two religious factions have developed in the our world, the FOGMs , or Followers of the Great Mother, and traditionalists like May, Tam and me, who follow the Old Ways,” the red-head explained. “As you see, the FOGMs are heavy into integrating modern technology with Danaan magic.”

“And that’s why you’re locked here with me, because you are not a card carrying Mother F- follower?”

“Pretty much,” Chevonne said. “We think the FOGMs are diminished and have lost their way, while they call us antiquated rubes.”

“And the Fianna Knights?” I was struggling with my crash course in Danaan politics, “how do they fit in?”

Chevonne shrugged. “Sworn protectors of all Danaans, but as their main North American garrison is here, they know who butters their bread."

Peachy. My twisted path to my old body now became more muddled by alien politics. I started pacing again.

When I’d lapped the room for the jillionth time, Chevonne grabbed me.

“Just stop, okay? You’re making me tired watching you. Relax. You are safe; you can breathe out.”

“But shouldn’t they be teaching me about doing the Samhain ritual and-”

“-You tested clean; no Fomorian taint. Whatever you did in the woods knocked it out.” She took my hand. “Please. Tell me what you did, and …what happened after I …died.”

No! It was one thing to see magic and yet another to be part of a miracle. I would. Not. think about it.

To her point, I was cleansed, pure, after drinking from the Dagda’s cauldron; I felt it. No need for Tam’s purification ritual for me. Only one tiny minor detail to fix.

“I’m STILL in the wrong body! Have them bring ‘Sean’ here; surely these folks can de-taint his soul so we can switch-”

I couldn’t talk anymore, because the red-headed priest locked her lips onto mine. Not a platonic peck either, a heavy tongue action smooch.

H-ey,” I warbled, when she let me come up for air. “What’s that for?”

“From the moment you switched with Darcy, you’ve been pissed, scared out of your mind, in a coma, or fleeing for your life. You haven’t had a moment to enjoy this body,” Chevonne said, and brushed the hair from my face. “I’m going to remedy that.”

“Wait! Erm, What about Sarah? You remember her; the woman I’m going to marry? I shouldn’t-”

“-Going to marry? Sweetie, you are married to her. And whattuya think Darcy -as you-and Sarah are doin right now? Ten to one they’re making the Beast with Two Backs. Now shush so we can get busy doing what Danaans do best.”

“I don’t think they-”

She shut me up again with a kiss, and based on the zing of this one, her first had been a warm up. I mean, holy crap! I found myself sprawled on a couch and looking up into her sparkling green eyes. Her hands were already under my dress and cupping my …my breasts …and …I didn’t mind one bit.

Until I heard someone clear his throat. We turned, to see a Danaan bureaucrats, Tulcuhr or something, standing in the doorway.

“I so hate to bother, but if you have the time, the Council is ready to see you now.”
 

~o~O~o~


 

XIII. Saturday October 30 1PM, Danaan Sanctuary corridor to the Great Hall
 

At last! We’re off to see the Powers That Be of this place. Hopefully that meant arranging for Darcy's butt to be dragged here for Samhain to work a purification ritual on her soul and then switch back into my old body.

I knew by now my life would never go back to the ‘normal’; clearly, á€ine and I had business together. But that didn't mean Sarah couldn't be part of it too. Sarah had never been keen on my playing as a career -though she loved hearing me play- but when she saw how powerful á€ine and I now played, I was sure she would be supportive. Right?

Chevonne and I merited a full guard escort, which included a half dozen Fianna Knights, in full regalia, and another dozen Sanctuary guards.

Oddly enough, the Sanctuary guards dressed in plain white shirts and pants; the same drab cloth as the smocks Chevonne and I wore.

The Fianna men and women, on the other hand, were dazzling, all brimming with sashes, ribbons and medals. In fact, walking with them through the retro sanctuary halls lit by fairy glow lamps gave the whole affair a parade feel. It reminded me of the scene where Dorothy and her companions went to see the Wizard of Oz for the first time, with me as Dorothy.
  

 

Er …let’s hope not.

“Don't you look like the image of a Danaan princess, fairy gauze and all.”

I looked left to see Leolin falling into step with us. It took a moment to work out the fairy gauze compliment.

He's glamoured too; how odd for Danaans to be susceptible to their own illusions. Or maybe they like it that way, spicing things up.

“You clean up nice too.”

He did; he looking handsome in his-

Holy crap! First I have a go at Chevonne and now I'm getting starry-eyed by a Knight in uniform? What was it with these Danaan bodies and their libidos? I needed to get back to my own body fast.

“Sooo, what's going on, Leo? Can I count on the Council setting all right?”

“I don't know,” Leolin growled. “They've grilled me ever since we arrived, barely cutting me loose to accompany you to the meeting. I expect them to help you, Shauna. It's the least they can do.”

My spirits lifted knowing we three were together again; Leo to my left and Chevonne to my right. I'd let them argue about who was Scarecrow and Tin Man. Looks like we were short one Cowardly Lion, though, and as for-

-Don't you dare call me Toto, Shauna.

á€ine! Where are you?

In the Council Room. If one more of these oafs touches me, I'll garote him with a string.

I could see massive ebony doors ahead; gotta be the place.

Shauna? Hurry! I miss you.

Miss you too! I did! My arms were empty without her.

Also, make sure Chevonne holds your hand; otherwise it'll be embarrassing when she is 'awed' by these charlatans.

Charlatans? That didn't sound good.

I turned to the fiery priestess. “Chevonne, would you ...hold my hand?”

She clasped it. “Aw sweetie, I know this overwhelming, but they should be able to help-”

She stopped when she saw my expression. “But you aren't scared; there’s another reason you wanted to touch me.”

“Yup.”

More glamour,” she hissed. “Ya know, after the switch, you were the wide-eyed one as I introduced you to the world of magic. Now it's you who’s all mystic and mysterious.”

"Turnabout's fair play, hey?” I said, with a little grin.

“Personally,” Chevonne said, “I think it sucks.”
 


~o~O~o~

 
I knew the drill. I'd seen the Lord of the Rings so many times I could recite the lines before the actors did. ‘The battle of Helm’s Deep is over; the battle for Middle Earth is about to begin.’ ‘Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?’ Or best, ‘But it is not this day! This day we fight!’

Yeah, I pretty much knew em all. Worse, as a teen, I’d read the Hobbit and the Trilogy over and over and over and before that, Mam read the stories to me the way other kid’s parents might read the bible to them. I was still pissed at Peter Jackson for leaving Tom Bombadil out of the movies.

So this must be the part of this adventure where I’d be awed by the Fair Danaans. Marching into the Council Chamber, I expected the men to look like Elrond and women Galadriel.

Sure, I’d been around the Danaan for days now; I knew they didn’t have pointy ears. But this moment, I was deep in a sanctuary rivaling the Dwarves Keep of Khazad-dum...

You really are a geek at heart, Shauna.

Um, thanks, for noticing, á€ine; always great to be insulted by one's harp.

Anyway, when I walked in, the architecture didn’t disappoint; the vaulted gothic ceiling was amazing; I could only imagine what part of Boston stood above it. But was it ...too amazing? It made the Danaans in the Council Chamber look all the more stark.

Don’t get me wrong, they, each of the twenty or so people seated around me, were striking. All Danaans were blessed with a streak of inhuman beauty. But these …less so. And all here wore garb as plain as the smocks Chevonne and I were in.

“They think to mesmerize us with a clothes glamour? This is messed up,” Chevonne whispered. “I might not be a high level priestess, yet, but I can do more than illusion.”

I didn’t know what to make of that; Chevonne spoke with disdain.

“We thank you, Priestess Séarlait; we would question our guest, so please take a seat.”

Priestess Séarlait? Who’s that?

Chevonne! It is not hard to imagine you were a man two weeks ago; only a clueless male would have spent so much time with someone and failed to ask her full name.

Thanks for your vote of support, á€ine.

I scanned the room to find her; one of the guardsmen guraded her in the back of the room. My hands ached to hold her. Then a thought ecked into my brain:

Wait! Do you have a surname?

Gods, you’re an idiot. I do indeed have a second secret name. But now is not the time for the learning of it. Ask for Chevonne to act as your Breitheamh.

The Guards had led Chevonne, Leolin and I into the center of a circle of twenty or so throne chairs. The other Fianna knights stopped at the chamber entrance; as Leolin claimed his continuing mission was to protect me, he insisted he accompany me in the meeting.

Men and women, sat high upon those chairs, staring down at me; standing behind them —and occasionally whispering in their ears- were another two dozen bureaucrat types. This felt more like an inquisition than …I don’t know …a body unswitching planning session?

*ahem* “I request Priestess Séarlait,” I gave Chevonne a sideways glance —Chevonne Séarlait, how cool a name is that?- “act as my ... erm, Breitheamh.”

Chevonne nodded her approval of my words, while the corps of bureaucrats sprang into action; their whispers became a symphony. The woman seated in the chair directly in front of me looked surprised.

“You wish her to act as your lawyer?”

"As my advisor."

The woman -the leader of the meeting I'd now guessed- stared at me long before she lowered her eyes.

"As you wish," she said. "Guards, bring chairs for Shauna Deirbhile and Priestess Séarlait."

"One chair; I will stand," Chevonne said.

I thought it would be odd to sit while she and Leolin stood, but as soon as I was seated, with one on my left and the other on the right, it felt natural, as if this was how it should be. I only lacked á€ine.

I wasn't sure how this meeting was supposed to begin -introductions would have been nice- so I decided to jump right in.

"When can I expect you to bring Darcy Caroline here to switch bodies with me?"

The bewildered look returned to the leader's eyes. "Why on earth would we do that?"

What? Maybe I misheard her. “Because …this isn’t my body for starters? I was switched to save a Danaan girl from death, or worse, and-”

“-It is obvious to all, you are the person whom the Fomor prophecy predicted, not Darcy Caroline. Your examination showed off the chart magic levels; we have Darcy’s levels recorded in our data base and they aren’t even close. Your harp is an artifact of incalculable power, for it is clearly the instrument of the Dagda himself. I suspect our glamour affects you not at all; am I correct?”

“Glamour? What glamour,” Leo growled.

“Shauna, would you,” Chevonne motioned with her head to the warrior. I reached over and touched him, feeling the same vibration I’d felt with Chevonne.

The warrior blinked, scanned the room, and turned fiery red in his face. “It is by law forbidden to use glamour against the Fianna!”

“Yes, yes, and I am sure you shall file a grievance, Sir Peredur,” the woman waved dismissively, before she returned her gaze to me. “Do you deny any of what I’ve said, Shauna Deirbhile?”

So Leo’s last name is…

Focus, Shauna! Things are not as they seem.

Who are these people, á€ine?

An assortment of high ranking dignitaries of this place. The two who matter are Rhonwen Davis, the one who has been speaking, and the man seated next to her, Lachlan Donohue. She is High Priestess of the Followers of the Great Mother, and he is Prince-elector of Boston.

“High Priestess Davis, Prince-elector Donohue: two weeks ago I knew nothing of your world…

Not true, Shauna, you mother taught you; you chose to forget.

Hush, á€ine.

…and I feel like a boat at sea in a hurricane, tossed from wave to wave, with water pouring in over the sides. Anything I know of this prophecy, I’ve learned in the last 24 hours. I do not want to stay in this body! I have a life to live. Priestess Caroline would like her daughter returned as well; she, Chevonne and others were preparing me for this when I was forced to run for my life. So please. I’m asking. I’m begging — give me back my life.”

Chevonne murmured “well said,” after I finished, but Rhonwen and Lachlan, a man with a pinched face and dark eyes, looked unmoved.

“I’d like to think your naíveté is an act, but you truly don’t get it. All indications are the Formorian prophecy is correct. You are the Dagda’s daughter, and upon your initiation into Danu’s rites, you will rise into the fullness of your power as a demi-goddess…”

Did he say demi-goddess, á€ine?

You are not a demi-goddess…

Well thank heavens for that because-

You are more.

More? More what? Now I was truly scared.

“So you see,” Rhonwen smiled at me, the crookedness of it marring her exquisite Danaan beauty, “you are not useful to us returned to your male body. But as Dagda’s Daughter, you are a force to be used against the Fomors, or perhaps a bargaining chip?”

“That must be my cue to commence the negotiations for the girl,” a cloaked man said, approaching Rhonwen and Lachlan. He lowered his hood:
 

 

When Leolin recognized the Fomor, he drew his sword from behind his back and shouted,“Farve! You die!”

Rhonwen rose from her chair. “Stand down, Knight. The Formorian is our guest and here by our invitation.”

“His people have been trying for days to kill Shauna, by poison, force and flame,” Leolin shouted, leveling his sword at the Fomorian mage. “I will not stand down.”

The Fomor sorcerer’s expression was cool as he turned to Rhonwen and Lachlan. “Have you considered my proposal? It is, by any estimation, fair.”

Chevonne stepped forward. “What proposal?”

Lachlan gave a dismissive wave. “We are weighing the value of allowing Shauna Deirbhile to achieve the fullness of her power, versus the peace treaty and 100 year tithe the Fomors have offered.”

“You mean to turn Shauna over to our enemies? This is treason,” Leolin roared.

Shauna, I need to be in your hands, á€ine said.

I felt it too. “Excuse me, but I should like to have my harp returned to me.”

“No!” Farve said, the first troubled look showing on his face. “Do NOT allow it.”

“Perhaps I will,” Rhonwen said, grinning. “Your offer appears …light …to us.”

Farve rolled his red eyes. “I feared our negotiations would be thus. I have told you how important it is to my people that this one not live, but perhaps you do not fully understand our commitment to this cause. Amassed outside your walls is a strike force so powerful, that your defenses will be swept aside in minutes. If you agree to our terms, we will honor the treaty. If not, we attack. Either way, she dies.”

Lachlan’s jaw dropped. “You would risk exposing our races to the humans over this?”

“We would risk everything! If Cethlenn’s prophecy comes true, our race is doomed. She must not live!”

I could see their decision on their faces: they did not think the Fomor bluffed, and they would turn me over to them.

It is time, á€ine said. Call me.

I knew what she meant; I would do as the Dagda had tried.

“Harp, come to me!”

á€ine flew through the air, knocking guards and council members out of the way. My hands closed around her.

“No!” Farve screamed. “Don’t let her play!”

“Guards! Grab her!” Rhonwen ordered.

I knew what to do. I knew.

Ready á€ine?

Always.

And I played a lullaby.

End Part 3

Moon Harper concludes in Part 4.



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