The Compass (13 page)

Chapter Fourteen

With his fisted hands braced against the frame, Finn glared out the window. Ali lay, sore and scared, on his sofa. Pushing off the casing, he turned, raked his hands through his hair and turned to stare at her. The light blanket he had draped over her, was wrapped about her body and she had drifted to sleep. That was good. She looked so frail laying there, once again looking like that broken fairy. He lightly touched her mind and though it was calmer, she was still trying to come to grips what was happening to her. More interesting was that a great amount of her thoughts concerned him. Intrigued, he pushed a bit further. She wished they had met under different circumstances—normal, circumstances. He had to smile at that. If things were normal, their paths would never have crossed.

When a soft sigh escaped from her lips, he wanted to reach over and stroke the curve of her cheek. A vibration in the air told him that they were no longer alone. Shoring up his emotions, Finn stood and waited. Tristan and Drake appeared looking like they had gone a few rounds with a tornado. Drake made a beeline for the kitchen.

Tristan produced a glass of whiskey with a flick of his hand. His usual elegance strained. “A toxin has been released into the air, infecting mortals. There are many of them running through the city. Cian and Constantine are helping as many as they can, disposing those they can’t. Mikel doesn’t care how many innocents fall; yet, this latest deed doesn’t carry his mark.” Sitting in a chair, he rested an ankle on a knee. He swirled his drink, then glanced at Ali. “She’s strong.”

The shift of mood wasn’t lost on Finn, and his back went up. “She is. We’ll handle it.”

The inclusive term had Tristan winging up a brow. “Lugus will be more determined, he’s been denied twice. He knows of your—limitations.”

“There are other ways besides magick, Tristan.”

Drake rejoined them, carrying a large sandwich, and added his two cents. “Normally, I’d stay out of these squabbles, but Mikel is one sick bastard and if he’s going to hand out dark magick like candy, you’re going to have to up your game.” As Tristan had done, Drake looked to Ali. “She’s a Fragment and will need some serious handling.” He took a huge bite of his sandwich, speaking around it, “Just saying.”

He was getting damn tired of everyone taking jabs at his inadequacies. It was even more bothersome since he had tried to recall his lessons from boyhood. The result had been pathetic; an infant possessed more than he did at the moment. He had made sure his feeble attempt had been hidden from the others; he didn’t need to add more fuel to their taunts. “I can handle Ali.”

“I will not be
handled
.” Shoving the blanket out of the way, Ali sat up, wincing a bit, and glared at Finn. She moved her shoulder and could only imagine the size of the bruise that was no doubt there. Taking a moment, she took in her surroundings. The room was large and boasted high ceilings. There was an industrial feel to the space, noticing the expanse of exposed brick and old pipes, she understood why.

A huge fireplace was to the left of her. A brief flash of sitting before it, with a glass of wine and tray of food caught her off guard. Tearing her eyes away from it, she swallowed down the lump that had formed. Feeling the stares of the two, she kept her focus on Finn. “Are we safe here?” To her ears, her voice sounded like she was out of breath. Irritated by it, she cleared her throat and asked, “No more running?”

The tone of her question put Finn on edge, for reasons he couldn’t explain. The humor from Tristan and Drake added to his discomfort. “We are safe, aye. Cian has provided the strongest of barriers around my home.”

Ali’s eyes narrowed, she felt steadier. “Cian did.” She shot a look to Tristan, noticed how tense he’d gotten. Drake on the other hand looked pretty smug. She stood and walked over to the window. “That’s right; you don’t have the ability to do that. Funny how my apartment wasn’t given the same consideration, makes one wonder if getting me here was always the plan.” Ali angled around and pinned him with a look, hating that she had to be so blunt, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like she had been duped—big time. And because they were there, she included Tristan and Drake in her ire. “You two, you knew didn’t you—you knew about his powerlessness?” Only Tristan had the decency to look reprimanded.

Finn tried to neutralize the situation before it got any worse. “There hasn’t been a lot of time for explanations, lass.”

“There is now. My life, it seems, is a damn open book to you, and I know next to nothing about anyone.” Her next words challenged, “Care to fill in the blanks?” Her eyes travelled from one to the other. Tristan shifted uncomfortably in his chair, Drake looked like a cat that had swallowed the canary and Finn looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Well tough cookie. She was tired, and if she was going to continue being the target of supernatural beings, she damn well better have all the facts. “Why don’t we start with the fact that you came for me knowing you had no magick—and that Lugus, and his cronies, do.”

Finn muttered something, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Not starting with the easy stuff, are you lass?”

Her eyelid twitched. She crossed her arms, the pull on her shoulder ached, but she ignored it. “I’m starting with the truth—or lack of.”  Hearing how insensitive she sounded, Ali relented. “That was unfair. If I were in your position, I too would have found it hard to admit any shortcomings.”

Finn pinched the bridge of his nose and hung his head. It was time to come clean, and from the muffled chuckles he was hearing from the other two, he wasn’t going to have help. Drake confirmed it when he made a production of leaving—the swine.

“I’d love to stick around to hear this, but I’m needed elsewhere.” Drake stood, stretched, and gave Ali a wink. To Finn’s curses, he simply smiled. “Sorry pal, you’re on your own.”

When he faded out of sight, Ali shifted her attention to Tristan. “I suppose you have to go hold his hand or something?”

His smooth elegance restored, Tristan rose from the chair. “The telling that needs to happen is for Finn alone.” He gave the sparest glances toward Finn before assuring Ali. “If you need us—any of us, all you need to do is call. We will hear you.”

With their exits, the resulting silence was heavy. It was uncomfortable, but Ali needed answers. “So,” She started, taking a small step forward. “You have no magick.” She watched as Finn shifted, felt a twinge of regret that she had to pressure, but there was no other way to find out what she needed to know.

It was hard to see the expectation in Ali’s eyes, but he knew she deserved the truth. “I relinquished them.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Aye, there is. It was a choice I made Ali, a lifetime before you.”

Her annoyance evaporated. “Tell me. I would like to know, go back to the beginning if it makes it easier.” Once the words were spoken, she found that she really did want to know.

He tried not to let her words, her curiosity, get to him. She simply wanted information in order to understand. Yet, he couldn’t help but hope that it was also because she wanted to know
him
. Her suggestion to start at the beginning eased his trepidation. “Our lives are not that different Ali.” He chuckled when her face twisted in a look of scepticism. “It’s true. We had our roles; we had those who tended to the land, those who taught the young. People married, had families—they had purpose. Our world was one of peace and light.”

Liking the easiness of the conversation, Ali commented. “You have magick, and abilities—hard to imagine folks going off to a nine to five job,” When Finn laughed, she thought it was the most wonderful sound. It rumbled deep from his chest. Her heart fluttered. To cover it up, she asked another question, moving back to the sofa as she did so. “What changed?”

Slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Finn answered her. “Life is a balance; good, and bad, plentiful and barren. While not the typical nine to five as you put it, there were those whose job was to maintain these balances. All immortals are born with abilities; starting a fire for instance, or calling up the wind. Magick is something more—an extra boost to those abilities.”

“Where does Mikel fit in?”

“He was responsible for maintaining the balance between darkness and light. He was also a great teacher; his magick came from a powerful race of sorcerers. Many sent their children to gain knowledge from him—I can see the question in your eyes, no, I was not a student of his. But Agrona was one of his best.” When he saw Ali shiver, he started a fire with wave of his hand.

Finn found the telling came easy. He wanted Ali to know it, to know
him
. Even though he knew he should keep his distance, regardless of what he knew, what he had told her, it wouldn’t be wise to become tangled up in emotions. Yet, he couldn’t help but be drawn to her. “The Star was created by the ancients to preserve what they knew, and what existed in other realms.” He joined her on the sofa, sitting close enough to allow her scent wrap around him.

“Not a smart move if you ask me.”

Without thinking of the significance, Finn reached for her hand and cradled it gently in his. “Perhaps not, but they were thinking of future generations, mine included.”

Trying not to think of how nice his touch was, or how familiar his tale sounded. Ali cleared her throat, “Still, dumb move.”

“Aye, it was. To keep this vessel safe, the ancients devised a legend and fueled it. It carried through the generations, the layers of it making it impossible to know what the truth was, and what the lies were.”

Ali murmured, “Another balance thing.”

Pleased with her conclusion, he gave her hand a small squeeze, “Aye.”

The rough tone of his voice made her stomach quiver. “What happened next?”

Absently, Finn rubbed his thumb over her wrist, felt the jump in her pulse. “According to this legend, along with the Star, a set of scrolls were written, detailing what each part of the Star represented, what magick it held. Two of the five ancients had travelled to the realms below.”

“Below as in, hell?”

“It has many names, but Hell will do. They took the darkest of magicks that dwelled there, doing so without the permission of those who inhabited the place—they are called the Shade. The balance began to shift, we could feel it, yet didn’t know why. Years went on, and life continued. Then, the Shade began to demand what the ancients had taken so long ago. It was then that the myth became real.

I remember my parents discussing it with my aunt and uncle, Cian’s parents. Those who were descendants of the ancients, tried to quell the rising concern, but when it became clear that it wouldn’t work, they gave in and agreed that something had to be done. Mikel went to try to keep the peace. Remember, it was his duty to maintain darkness and light, so it made sense that he go. He was entrusted with many of my people’s secrets. When he failed to return, my uncle went to find him. He came back wounded. Mikel, having been shown what the ancients took, wanted the power for himself. He sent my uncle with a message: he wanted the vessel or he would destroy all who stood in his way.”

Coldness settled around her heart regardless of the warmth of the fire, “And the scrolls?”

“Like the Star, the ancients placed protection over the scrolls. They were hidden in plain sight as regular parchments of healing spells. Each scroll is connected to a descendant. To my knowledge, they remain safe. Mikel was determined to gain the Star. He attacked Agrona out of frustration, and to set an example. She was the goddess of war. At the time, he had no idea that she also knew the location of the Star—that she was its guardian. You saw what happened then, in the cup.”

By now, her whole body was chilled. In a kneejerk reaction, she began to filter through the information. When she thought of the scrolls, her brain went into overdrive. Not only did Mikel need her—or rather, what was inside of her, he needed to know how to use whatever magicks that had been housed in her section of the Star. He needed the scrolls.

Finn watched her closely. “What do you see, Ali?”

Straining, she tried to make what she was seeing make sense. “I’m not really sure, my mind has latched onto the scrolls, like it wants to find them, but can’t—at least, not yet.”

Lifting her chin up with a finger, turning her face to his, he stared deep into her eyes, eyes that were now clouded with concentration. “It will come to you.” He traced the lines of her face with his eyes. That intoxicating scent, uniquely hers, assaulted his senses, he dragged it in, savored it. He felt his chest tighten, the rhythm of his heart sounded in his ears. Her eyes showed that this closeness was affecting her as well. That pleased him just as much as it scared him.

She was afraid to move, to speak, but she knew there was more. Finn hadn’t explained his choice not to have magick. With regret already filling her, Ali pulled back. “Tell me the rest—I want to know the rest. What happened to make you give up your magick?”

He’d rather face a legion of Mikel’s best fighters than tell her of his fateful decision. However, he nodded, and though he wanted to draw her close to him, he resisted. “Not all immortals were born with magick, those who are, carry a great responsibility. My father came from a long line of powerful warlocks, and my mother was of the Tuatha Dé Danann, her lineage was of the Morrigan. The union of two such as them produced offspring capable of immense power.” It was as if he were speaking of someone else instead of himself and his sister. “My sister and I were indeed powerful. Our immortal gifts were amplified to the highest degree. We learned how to use, and control our magick at the feet of our parents. It was intoxicating and I absorbed every lesson. One day, my father came to me and granted me a gift handed down to him from his father—a sword. Grandfather had been one of the greatest warriors of our people.