Homelands Pt. 08 Ch. 01

Much the same could be said of his body. He was in decent shape, and he could almost claim a six-pack. But he somehow felt sure that he should have had a full eight-pack, to say nothing of how his shoulders should have been broader or his biceps rounder.

In his dreams, he'd looked the way he should have. At least at some points.

It was odd that he'd even be aware of that. One didn't often get the chance to look at one's own face in one's dreams. But he was sure that he'd looked like a teenager during the sequence where he'd been Karen's son or future step-son or whatever, and that he'd looked a few years older when he'd been her father. And that his body had been as perfect as it should have been all along.

What did it mean? Anything?

He remembered thinking to himself, when he'd awoken in the middle of the night, that Kevin was a dream-walker. That the man they invited into their home h ad violated their minds while they'd slept. By the light of day, that thought struck him as ludicrous. He couldn't believe that he'd been about to ask his wife if she thought so too.

"What's the plan for today?" he asked.

"Thought maybe we'd rob a bank, then dress up as clowns and go provide some entertainment at the retirement home," Karen said.

Chris shook his head.

"I'm gonna try to meet my deadline, and you're gonna do your best to prevent me from doing so by playing your guitar. As usual. What do you think?"

"Love you too, sweetie," he said.

She kissed his back.

"Seriously, what's with all the deep thoughts? You weren't visited by the ghosts of Saint Patrick's Day Past, Present, and Yet to Come, were you?"

He snorted.

"How bout you go make us some omelets?" she asked before kissing him again.

#

As everyone gathered together in the clearing where these things always began, Brittany found it increasingly hard to contain her excitement. Since her aunt had taken over as the clan's matriarch, they'd acted out dozens of elaborate fantasies. Dirty westerns and grown-up fairy tales, courtroom dramas and prison orgies. She couldn't even imagine what Oona might have in store for them next, and that suited her just fine.

"Nervous?" Finnie asked with a wry smile.

"Maybe," she said. Though she turned her head a bit to the side, her eyes remained glued on her cousin. As they always did. He couldn't have been more irresistible. With every passing day, if one could even say that days passed in a world where it was always dusk, she found herself more attracted to him. "Got a problem with that?"

By way of response, he planted a soft kiss on the top of her head.

Then, suddenly, he went stiff as a board. Expressive as he wasn't, his Libido was never as warm or animated as anyone else's. But even by his stoic standards, it grew remarkably cold and inert. She could almost believe that he'd died on her.

Brittany was about to ask him what was wrong when she caught sight of Oona. The expression on her aunt's face was neutral. Hardly the sort of grave look that could be expected to spook anyone who caught a glimpse of it. Yet her cousin was surprisingly attuned to others' feelings, especially for someone who seemed to have so few of his own. And that went double for his mother, much as Brittany hated to admit it. He'd have instinctively known what it took her a moment to realize.

Oona never wore a neutral expression. Especially not when announcing the details of one of their little romps. She ought to looked like a star about to go supernova.

Slowly, the rest of the clan picked up on it too. Reilly inched towards his mother, no doubt longing to take her in his arms. But he had just enough sense to know that now wasn't the time. Gallech gritted his teeth so hard that the knots of muscle at the corners of his jaw bulged, though unlike their cousin, he stayed put. Seamus pulled Fiona just a little tighter against his chest, the way Brittany wished Finnie would.

"I'm afraid I haven't called you all here for the usual reason," Oona said.

Brittany almost choked on the obviousness of her aunt's words.

It had to be about Kay. And their mother. The prince had assured them that they were in no danger. That had been infuriating, since it clearly implied that he knew where they were and refused to tell them. He'd probably even had something to do with their disappearance. But if he said they were safe, then they had to be safe. That was how things worked here in Faerie. Her kind couldn't lie.

Still, they hadn't heard from the prince in a while. Something must have changed.

Suddenly, Brittany's throat felt tight, and her eyes grew watery.

"I received a visit from Prince Oberon a short while ago," their matriarch was saying.

Prince Oberon? Not Arawn? What could that mean?

"I know what you all are thinking," Oona continued, playing with her hair nervously. She looked like a little girl more than the clan's fearless leader. Brittany felt bad for her. They all knew it should be Fiona leading the clan. It would have shamed their aunt to admit though. To let someone so much younger than her carry out the duty that was rightfully hers. "There's no news about Cahill and Caronwyn," the reluctant matriarch said, before drawing a deep breath. "But there is about another member of clan."

A look of puzzlement came over most everyone. Not Finnie, of course. He couldn't have looked more statuesque if he tried. Under different circumstances, Brittany would have thought that cute. But she was too busy bracing for the bomb her aunt was about to drop.

"It seems your grandmother didn't fade off like we'd always thought," Oona said.

That still sounded strange to Brittany. She'd asked Fiona once why all of the fey were a generation or two apart, given that they were immortal. Why none of their more distant ancestors were still around. Her sister had told her that their kind tended to "fade off" after a while, losing interest in the petty games their children played. What exactly that meant, no one seemed prepared to say. She imagined a retirement home where everyone was young and beautiful, and games of bingo or bridge spontaneously turned into orgies.

"She's been the queen's captive all this time. And it's time we rescue her." As she said that, she stared directly at Fiona. Almost as if she was asking for her niece's permission.

A jumble of emotions swept over Brittany. Though it shouldn't have been, anger was among them. The last thing Brittany would have wanted was to be the one responsible for making such decisions, but she couldn't bear the thought that her sister was being rewarded for behaving as if she was the only one among them with a head on her shoulders. Brittany couldn't deny that Fiona was the most mature and responsible among them, but did her sister have to be so damn aware of that fact?

That reaction faded quickly enough though, leaving shame in its wake. And even the shame was quickly supplanted by concern for the grandmother she'd never met and outrage at the queen who'd secretly held her prisoner for years and years.

"Well, some of us, anyway," Oona said. "Gallech and Reilly will come with me. The rest of you will stay here."

She didn't need to say that Fiona would take over as matriarch in the event that she didn't return. They all picked up on the look that passed between the two of them, and the accepting nod Fiona offered afterwards.

"Wait, what?" Reilly asked. "It could be a trap."

"Of course it's a trap," Finnegan told his brother.

If he ever spoke to Brittany with that dismissive a tone, she'd slap him silly. But she couldn't pretend that she took no pleasure in seeing Reilly put in his place like that. The way his ears went pink nearly made her giggle.

"Don't be ridiculous," Seamus said. Then, reminding everyone that he too was wise beyond his years, he added, "The queen won't just let Grandma go, of course, but she won't be looking for a fight either. That's not how we do things here. You should know that by now." He cleared his throat. "She'll want something in exchange. Or maybe she'll offer to gamble with you. But either way, you're not walking into an ambush." Turning to Oona, he said, "Isn't that right?"

For a moment, no one said anything. Brittany almost expected Fiona to elbow Seamus in the ribs for asking their aunt to confirm what he'd said rather than her, but she didn't. In fact, she was grinning at him with what Brittany took to be a mix of pride and lust.

"I'm sure it is," Oona finally replied.

"Why would he tell us?" Reilly asked.

With a shrug, Oona said, "He mentioned that he hoped we'd been good to Macha."

Fiona and Seamus nodded immediately. It didn't take the rest of them long to catch up.

Sometimes, Brittany was jealous of her cousins for being Dreamsmyths. Teagan and Duncan could return to the Dreaming any time they liked. But times like these reminded her of how the members of that clan treated one another.

"So. Any objections?" Oona asked the rest of them, eyes focusing on Fiona.

There were none. Not from Seamus, not from Fi and certainly not from Brit or Finnie. She was too stunned to speak, and he wasn't the type to chime in at times like this.

Brittany thought she might vomit. She tried telling herself that the three of them would return home soon with the grandmother she'd never met, and everything would be okay. But she just couldn't believe it. One way or another, this was going to end in tragedy.

And the others knew it. They weren't saying it, but they did. The air was thick with the realization, and acceptance, that the ranks of Clan Walker might soon dip even lower.

Gallech stepped over to her, and she braced herself for whatever parting taunt he was about to leave her with. "If they ever return, make sure that Cahill's good to Mom," he said, in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "She deserves better than him, even though she's too blind to see it. Don't let him take her for granted."

"And if he does?" Brittany asked, feeling numb. "What am I supposed to do about it?"

Did he actually think there was cause for concern? Cahill worshipped their mother.

Gallech gave her a wan smile. "Punch him in the nose."

She laughed nervously as her oldest brother planted a kiss on her cheek.