Morons and Monarchs

Chapter 31: Bricria👅

Everybody is an idiot.

Branwen is working herself hoarse by shifting back and forth from a Raven to a Faerie, Araceli keeps twirling her hand around and making the swirls spin. Brishen is watching Araceli in fascination. Bayou is speaking in hushed tones with Viviendel like we can't hear him. Ahmya is pacing. And I am doing absolutely nothing. Except spinning my dagger around my hand, that is.

But that is beside the point. Pun unintended. Why have a meeting if nobody is going to speak?

"Bayou," I interrupt his conversation. "Why are we here? I have a house with a warm bed to get back to in about..." I check an imaginary watch. "Welp, now." I glance back up at Bayou.

"First of all," Branwen intones. " You don't live in a house, you live in a hovel. Second of all, nobody is warming your bed except your musty old sheets your grandma probably died on."

"How in Cozbi's name do you know about my grandma?" I ask theoretically.

"I saw you crying in the middle of the woods, that is when I kidnapped you and took all your memories." She responds.

"Ha, I don't have a grandma. Be quiet, filth." She sticks her tongue out at me.

"Unlike you, I don't randomly stick my tongue out when I am mad. I only do that when I am on my musty old sheets in my hovel. And a girl is with me, of course."

Viviendel looks startled for a moment, then recovers before anyone else can take note. I wink at her with my crooked grin.

She looks away quickly, gouging everyone's reaction to see if they saw her. I almost laughed.

"Well, we have to somehow get the Queen's attention in full. Especially since they are now planning to burden Viviendel with searching for the killer of Freyja. Which, yes, I would love to know the answer to that... but the Queens cant. If they did... well we could be shut down. If it was someone from a different country, we may go to war. If it is someone from a different clan, they would go to war with that clan. We would all be separated, and we can't let that happen." Bayou explains. "So," He claps his hands. "Any ideas?"

I look around the room.

"Come on guys, the Queens are too powerful to defeat. And if we defeat one we will go to war ourselves. We can't win!"

Araceli raise's her hand, then lowers it. Bayou looks disheveled and torn. Like he does not know what to do for the first time.

"Araceli, if you have something-'' He takes a breath. "Anything." Bayou pleads. "Just tell us. It is for the greater good, I promise."

"You are half," I remind him. "Your promises are worth nothing." Bayou makes a sound that vaguely resembles a laugh and sob mixed together.

"Please," He sounds like he is about to die. And although I hate myself for it, I don't remotely care. "I- I don't know what to do anymore. We have been trying for years, Araceli. Years! Do you know how long that is for a half-human? A year could be the difference between life and death for one of us!" He gestures to Viviendel and himself.

"I-'' Araceli starts, glances at Brishen. He nods. "There is this sword. आएरोन् is its name."

"Aeron." Brishen translates.

Araceli nods. "It was forged for me. After the gods came to Earth, I rebelled against them." She takes a breath. "Similar to the way you guys are rebelling, yet different. My way didn't work. The sword is supposed to kill gods. The universe gave it to me after the first Queen was crowned. The universe did not agree with the prospect that everybody has to bow down to the eleven Queens. The stars are old-schooled. They preferred when the humans were the only ones around, yet the moon made the Gods and the Gods allowed the Fae out of their hiding place.

"But instead of skewering one of the Gods... I butchered a Queen. Or at least, I tried to. It was one against a Queen and a pack of guards that looked as if they could battle a legion.

"They took Aeron from me and banished it into the abyss that was Tech Duinn at that time."

"They still have it today," Brishen intones. "On display. But... history changes. Like a messed up version of the Telephone Game." He shivers. "They make Araceli the bad guy and the Queens are suddenly good. Even if they did indeed threw her sou-"

"No." Araceli interrupts. "They already know enough."

Bayou doesn't object to the loss of knowledge. "Thank you, Araceli." He sighs. "We will get your sword back."

"I have one objection," I croon. "If we kill a Queen, then we will go to war. So we can kill a Queen. And even then... Imbolc Island would be no more if the Monarchs ceased to exist."

"Which is exactly why we need to go steal the sword now," Bayou explains. "We have to get both Queens in the same area. We can't let Jorogumo see us, and then we will have to go back to hiding." He laughs jubilantly.

"But who is going to be the Queens then? And still give you halves what you want?"

"The heirs... " He grins at Viviendel. "One is, coincidently, a half. One that works with us and will allow us our freedom."

Araceli looks torn between telling everybody not to and telling them it is a great plan.

Branwen knocks elbows with Bayou. "Does that mean we get to go on a heist?"

I level a stare at her. "What do you think?"

Her grin falters. "You are just mad because of your standing tradition."

"We do not speak of that!" I glance at Viviendel. "You will jinx me and I will never forgive you."

"We won't save you, so I guess you won't have to forgive me."

I roll my eyes. "This year, my tradition will die."

"Along with your pride," Branwen sing-songs.

I glare at her.