Aika (Keepers of the Flame: Origins)

Epilogue

                                                             EPILOGUE

Back in the Tree and Flame, Aika slid her sword into the sheath the old man had given her and used a footstool to mount it behind the bar, where she’d first seen it.

“Are you sure?” Bobby nodded to indicate the sword, before taking a long draught of stout laced with whiskey.

“I’m sure.” She hopped down. “What I was capable of out there, without thinking about it…it takes some getting used to. I figure I’ll only use it when I need it.” She blinked at his sudden grin. “What?”

“Not many would show that sort of wisdom. Well done.”

Aika poured herself two fingers of whiskey and leaned on the bar. “Are they really safe here?”

“For the time being. Your friends at Dreamtech won’t recall much of what happened this evening or what led them here. They’ll still try to find you, of course, but they’ll have a devil of a time figuring it out. And if they get close, we’ll be warned.”

They heard a resounding clang from the back room, followed by a muffled curse. “Who is he—the old man?”

Bobby shrugged. “You know the Tuatha Du Danaan?”

Aika nodded. Her home had been steeped in ancient Irish mysticism, after all—and now she knew why. “Brighid’s one of them. They’re not gods, really, just sort of…guardians.”

Bobby lifted his glass to her. “Guardians and the champions they fostered, who earned their way into the other side—the Tir na Nog. Think of it as the Celtic Val Halla.”

“And the old man?”

“Brighid’s father. Long-suffering, to hear him tell it.”

Aika tried to work it out. “So he’s…a god who isn’t a god? The Celtic Zeus?”

“Dagda. The one and only—thank God.” Bobby smirked at his own irreverence.

“And you’re an angel. I thought I saw wings for a moment tonight. They’re real?”

He shook his head. “It’s what people believe of angels, so that belief manifests every now and again. The wings come from heaven being in the clouds, you see—so naturally we must have wings.”

“When the call for the apocalypse comes, will you stay? Or will you go to war?”

“We’re at war—but I take your meaning. I’m not a soldier, so I’ll stay and help where I can do some good.”

“No fiery swords for you, huh?”

“Nope.” He reached across and laid his hand over hers. “You’re doing the right thing here, never doubt it. You’re needed, too.”

She sighed. “I know. It’s just…I’m doing it more for Jamie than anything else. I’m not a hero, Bobby. I’m human, despite all…well, that.” She waved in the direction of the sword.

“I’ll take doing the right thing for the wrong reasons than the wrong thing for the right reasons every time.” He sat back. “We’re getting close now, Aika. Things are moving very fast. It won’t be long now.”

“Brighid said much the same thing. I got the impression we’re running out of time for new Keepers to be made, if we lose anymore.”

“We are.”

Aika cradled her glass, staring into its warm depths. “Bobby, can I ask…Is it possible…”

He took pity on her. “You want to know about your Jamie.”

“Please. I have to know.”

“In addition to wings, in the old paintings a crown of a holy light—call them halos, if you will—was depicted in shining rays around the head and shoulders of the subject. It’s really an aura, and it’s not always good, or holy. Yours, however…” He gave her a bittersweet smile, looking over her head and shoulders. “You don’t just have Brighid’s light inside you. You have Jamie’s, too. His love will always keep you, Aika.”

As hers had once kept him.

The old man stomped in then, red in the face from having lifted the cook pot onto the fire. “So I take it we’re staying, then?” He asked them both, but he was looking at Aika.

“We’re staying,” she agreed.

“Good. By the time your friend finds you we’ll be ready to take Dreamtech down. Until then we keep them fed and watered and safe. That’s our job, understand?”

Aika looked over her shoulder at the sword on the wall. “I understand.”

Finally, she was able to grieve.