Born of Oak and Silver (The Caradoc Chronicles) (22 page)

Bram
remained quiet; his fingers were again steepled before his mouth, as they tended to be whenever he was deep in thought. “I am loathe to let you proceed.” His green eyes looked up into my own. “It would mean sending you into the indefinite, without my aid.” His eyes again returned to staring at an unknown spot on the floor, his mouth resting against his still pointed fingers.

Motion seen out of the corner of my eye drew my attention away from Bram and to the couch before the fireplace. A pair of large emerald eyes found mine
briefly before sinking to hide themselves behind the back of the couch. That fraud. The corners of my mouth turned up at her attempt to be discreet against the likes of me and Bram. It just wasn’t possible. I returned my eyes to him. He too looked at me, his own eyes indicating with mirth that he had known for quite some time that Ayda was not truly asleep.

Bram
began to nod, his face mirroring the resolve that I felt. “Aye, I will not stand in your way. When were you expecting to be leaving us?” He was earnest, and though as determined as I, I could see that he was worried for me.

“
There is no better time than the present. I will be attempting to pass through at twilight.” My own fingers fiddled with my sapphire ring as I waited for Bram to process what I had said. Again my eyes were drawn to the couch where Ayda no longer bothered to hide, her head shaking adamantly as her mouth wordlessly framed the word, “No.”

I looked do
wn at the floor; there was nothing for me to say.

Seeing that she was having little effect on the course of action about to be taken, Ayda had stopped worrying her head
and rushed to where we sat, falling to her knees before her grandfather. “Grandad, no. You cannot let Daine do it.” Her eyes implored him, and threatened to begin to weep.

B
ram regarded her affectionately. It was clear that he himself did not wish to bring her pain. His eyes left hers to find mine. In them I found the same emotions reflected that she was able to openly express. He did not wish me to go, but he also knew that I would be going anyway.

Ayda looked between Bram and me
. Bram lowered one of his hands to stroke her wildly curled head. “I am sorry, love . . .”

But his words had no effect. She scrambled on her knees to stop just
in front of me, her hands clasping together as she pleaded with me. “Please, Daine, there has to be another way. I cannot bear to lose you too.” Her tears now fell freely, and she hung her head upon my knee and began to sob.

Bram reached forward, gathering her easily to him. “My dear, do not weep,” he whispered to h
er gently, as he held her fast against his chest.

I could not stand her
tears. The sight of a woman crying always undid me. I stood and, with a single look back at Bram and Ayda, left the room.

I
immediately went outside, strolling reminiscently about Bram’s property. I was lucky in that there were only a few hours left before dusk, and that I was able to spend those in relative peace. I tried not to think about the potential difficulties with what I was about to do, because they were never ending. I ended up at Bram’s pond, watching as the fish began to jump while the day drew closer to its end. Soon the shadows and slightly orange-hued light indicated that it was time to set off.

I had e
verything that I needed with me—my daggers, my torque, armbands and ring, and a pouch of gold coins well inside of my pocket. I walked back to the house, where I hoped I might be able to tell Ayda and Bram good-bye. They had not left the library. Ayda sat in the seat I had occupied earlier, dreamily staring out of the window, and Bram was in his chair, his nose in a book.

As I
approached, Bram lowered the book he’d been reading. “I’ve been searching the texts for any mention of what you might encounter on the other side of the Silver.” He moved a worn hand up to his eyes and rubbed them before continuing to speak, clearly annoyed. “I am sorry to say that I have not uncovered anything that might be of an aid to you.” He shifted in his chair; he too was restless.

I spared a glance
for Ayda, but she was too distant to notice. She was avoiding eye contact with both her grandfather and me. I rolled my eyes and returned my glance to Bram. “Thank you, Bram. I appreciate your efforts, whether they’d proved to be fruitful or not. I am well aware that this will accumulate unforeseen consequences. However, I find the risks to be outweighed by the potential of discovering Maurelle, and the undoubtable prospect of broadening our knowledge of the Sidhe. If I can learn anything that might help us defeat them, then this is worth it.”

I could tell that he did not agree with me, and the slight pucker of Ayda’s face indicated that she did not either. It did not matter. “Thank you again
, Bram,” I said with a slight bow as I began backing away from them.

“Just a minute
, lad, you will not be without a proper farewell. If you will but wait a moment, I will see you to the Silver.”

I nodded briefly as Bram stood and
made to precede me out the door. I paused, allowing Ayda one last chance for farewell, but she still refused to glance my way. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I saw the evidence of the same pesky, little girl she had always been, still alive and well in her adult form. My hand slapped the wooden doorframe twice in parting, and I followed Bram from the house.

We walked toward the Silver in silence. There were no words that needed to be said, nor
was there a need for false reassurance to be uttered. We took in the quickly falling night, measuring the descent of the sun so as to correspond with the cadence of our step.

“Did you
know that it was here, Bram?” I asked when we stood before the Silver.

He shifted a bit before turnin
g his face in my direction. “No. It was not here when you and I left for Ireland. I find its presence now to be entirely unnerving. I have not been able to learn anything concerning the particulars of the moving and placement of Silvers, so I have no way to explain it. There simply has not been anything created that would enlighten us. Perhaps you’ll remedy that.”

I
nodded grimly, my lips pursed in less than hopeful agreement. I studied the tree. It looked as though it were an entirely normal tree. However given that I now knew what I was looking for, I was able to discern the faint glimmer of the Silver easily. I took a few deep breaths as I attempted to center myself. I did not know what I would face on the other side. It could be that I was stepping into a world void of oxygen, an environment of nothing but smoldering fire, or quite possibly somewhere underwater.

With the
sun now setting, the Silver would be open. It was as good a time as any. “Bram.” I hesitated, unsure of what exactly I should say. “I . . . well, I . . .” I swallowed forcefully and cleared my dry throat. “Look after yourself, and Ayda too. I know she won’t believe you, but tell her that I will be coming back.” I could not look at him; my nerves were scattered enough without having to see his troubled face.

The sna
p of a stick had both Bram and me whirling defensively around. Ayda stepped clumsily through the brush, muttering something under her breath as she tugged her skirts free from the undergrowth. I watched her suspiciously as she came forward to stand close to her grandfather.

She looked
at the old oak, seeing nothing. She turned to me, glowering. Her head tipped in the slightest inclination of a greeting, but she remained wordless despite her unannounced appearance. She annoyed me beyond comprehension.

I again turned to
the tree, took a deep breath and, after letting it slowly out, stepped forward with my hand stretched out before me. The Silver responded immediately. I had halfway hoped it would remain closed to my intrusion. But, before my eyes, my hand seemed to be absorbed, becoming invisible as it passed through and to the other side. Positioned such, I made some vague notes of the otherworld beyond. This Silver did not open into water, fire, or anything else adverse that I could tell only by touch. In fact, I swished my hand and became fairly certain that there was a cool atmosphere on the opposite side. Whether it was breathable or not was something I would only be able to find out the hard way.

I pulled my hand
out gradually, marveling at this strange, magical means of transportation created by an alien race.

“Daine,
” Bram’s voice came from behind me, “mind yourself vigilantly at all times. There could be Sidhe waiting for you.” Bram’s words were less than comforting.

I swallowed hard and nodded curtly. The sun had now set entirely, and there was nothing more for me to do
than step through. I outstretched my hand and allowed it to lead me through the Silver. I couldn’t help but breathe a little quicker as I allowed my arm to gradually disappear, inch by slow inch.

I paused
just before my face was to go through, only long enough to fill my lungs with air. Just as I was about to move through the Silver again, I heard Ayda scream as something slammed into my back, and I recklessly stumbled forward.

My elbows and knees fell painfu
lly onto what felt like a cold, stone floor. The air was cool and stagnant, but breathable. I tried to orient myself in this completely lightless world, but found it impossible. A mass of arms and legs had entangled itself with me on the floor. No words were spoken; only the sharp intake of breath escaped from us as we struggled against each other in the dark. I managed to move myself behind its seemingly human form, locking its arms against it in a vice-like hold. I placed my hand over its mouth.

The two of us panted heavily. D
espite a concerted effort on my part to be as quiet as possible, our exhales rattled loudly around us. My captive now held submissively in my arms, I strained to hear anything outside of our breathing. There was nothing but me and whomever it was that I held. I felt a smile break beneath my hand, and before I could react, teeth clamped down on to one of my fingers.

I pulled my hand away
, shaking it to dampen the fleeting pain. Contrary to what it had possibly intended by the action, my arm tightened even more firmly around its waist, making movement and further inhalation far more difficult.

“Do not attempt an
ything like that again,” I growled menacingly beside its ear.

I felt w
ild hair brush against my cheek as its head moved up and down in affirmation of my words. This close I could smell vanilla and spice in her hair, like the scent of something sweet baking in the kitchen. Recognition crashed over me.

“Ayda?” I whispered tentatively in her ear.

Again her head nodded, but this time it was hesitant and slow.

I did not loosen my grip, unconvinced that
it was her I held imprisoned in my arms. “Say something,” I instructed her dispassionately.

“Let me breathe a bit
, will ye?” came her breathy voice. It was her. I loosened my grip, but did not release her entirely.

Right against her ear I whisp
ered angrily, “You are truly a fool. Don’t you know what you’ve done? Stay beside me, silent, and avoid making this any more difficult than it already is, hmmm?” I then released her. To her credit, she remained motionless.

Still on my knees beside her, I risked a bit of light
in this cold place. I called fire, small and dim, and squinted as it formed in my palm. I looked down at Ayda, and was met by her radiant face full of defiance. I smirked inwardly; there was no doubt that it was definitely her.

W
e huddled together upon a dirty, cobblestone floor, the grayish dirt fine but heavy where it collected in the cracks. Nothing stirred in reaction to the light. I willed the fire to grow brighter and was taken aback to discover that we were in a room made entirely of stone. The ceiling and walls were the same as the gray cobblestone floor. A shiver ran down my spine. It was like a tomb.

“Where are we?” Ayda’s voice whispered
shakily.

“I am not sure yet.”
I stood for a more advantageous look around the room. Opposite of us was an entirely blackened doorway; our light was not bright enough to breach its shadows. I cautiously moved to the wall where I thought the Silver through which we had arrived was located. My hand was met only by the cold touch of stone. The wall was entirely solid. I ran my hands over the wall, hoping I’d find the Silver and send Ayda back through it to her grandfather. But there was no sign of it.

I moved to the opposite
wall and again began to search for any trick of light or sensation that might indicate where the Silver was placed. I then searched the floor, ceiling, and three of the four walls of the room, avoiding the doorway for fear of my light would alert any others that we too were wherever this was. My search was all in a vain. There was nothing here but us, rocks, and dirt. I left my fire burning on the floor.

I
walked back to Ayda, who still sat on the cool floor, all the while keeping my eyes focused on the doorway. “Ayda,” I said to her with all of the annoyance I felt obvious in my voice, “why would you jump through the Silver? You were completely thoughtless. You should have stayed with Bram; he would have kept you safe.” I raised a hand and ran it through my hair in frustration. “And now, not only do I have to worry about my own neck, but I have to worry about yours. And I don’t even know what we’re up against!” I dropped my hand. My hair stood wildly on end from where I had worried it. “Why did you do it?”