They rested on the moss and soft pebbled sand along the shore of the causeway early, early in the morning, after they'd granted one another's wishes and slept for a short while. Lying wrapped in Cullen's cloak, her head on his chest, Emery gazed up into the pastel-colored star-fading sky, the mists having drifted off to other shores to confuse other passersby. Cullen had one arm around her, the other beneath his neck. At peace with one another, they spoke of Mug Ruith.
"When we reached Tara, he was already there, the ancient druid," Cullen spoke quietly into the cool air. "It was as if he'd been waiting for us, and we took advantage of his presence. But what he said has since disturbed me, though I could make no sense of it until now."
Emery listened, somewhat distracted. She was still confused about the memory she'd had after she'd fallen asleep in Cullen's arms. She understood the memory itself--Setanta killing Forgall and the two of them fleeing--but why she'd had it, she couldn't understand. As far as she knew, only Charlie had been able to give her memories; had he somehow done it from his imprisonment? And if so, why would he have done it? She'd not made any sort of deal with him, so she didn't feel the need to tell Cullen about it. She'd figure it out on her own, when she had a chance to speak with Charlie.
But her husband was speaking to her, now. Lifting a little, turning toward him, she couldn't help but stare at his bare shoulders and arms, admire the strength of them. "When did you do that?" she asked, indicating his tattoos.
"These markings? It's been so long, I couldn't say."
"I like them."
Cullen smiled yet at the same time lowered his brow, as if somewhat bemused.
Emery again marveled at the fact that he was hers. This man was beautiful and powerful--why did he care about her? But it'd been Emer, hadn't it, that he'd cared about? And yet, he seemed to believe they were alike, if not the same. "So Mug Ruith, what exactly did he tell you?"
"I cannot remember word for word, but he said that a time would come when a poison made war between us. Our one hope, he said, was in--it was a word that is foreign to me. York, if I can recall it. A new York. Surely it is a word of some enchantment. The God or the druid may know of it. We--"
Emery bolted upright, her tunic flowing loosely around her. "What did you say? New York?"
"Yes," Cullen confirmed as he sat up, amazed at her enthusiasm.
"I knew it! I knew that's where Charlie took me, where those monsters were! It--it's a city where I'm--where I was from, when I was cursed. It's in the otherworld. Maybe--" She paused, suddenly remembering the talisman she wore. Removing the necklace, Emery buried it under a corner of the cloak before continuing in a hush, "Maybe we're meant to go there. Charlie was supposed to take me back to them when I was ready. But what if we go to them first, before they even suspect us? What if we're meant to find them? Can we do that? Can we kill Fomorians?"
Cullen thought over her words, never rash to respond. "If that is what is needed, it will be done."
Emery thought of the memory she'd had just a short while ago--it seemed she had a habit of asking this man to do drastic things, and he seemed to have a habit of obliging her. She sensed an uncomfortable glee in that, a pride of sorts, and the feeling upset her . . . hurt them all . . .
Quickly taking hold of one of Cullen's hands, Emery rose to her knees, looked at him in desperation. Her thoughts were tangled, but she must speak them. "Cullen, whatever this is inside of me, I'm afraid of it. It makes me feel things I'm ashamed of. And I just want you to know that if I--if I start to hurt you, I don't mean to. I promise. I'm just--I'm losing some control, and I'm afraid it's going to get worse. Whatever happens, please don't leave me. I . . . I love you."
He was difficult to read in the immediate aftermath of her words, his eyes brightening from within, and Emery became anxious for his response. But then he put his arms around her and drew her near, spoke warmly against her cheek, "Lady, I loved you even before I knew you, and I will die loving you still."
And in that embrace, Emery gave him whatever small parts of her heart she'd held back, fearing deeply the possibility of hurting him as the poison within her strengthened.
They took their time returning to the camp on the cliffs, keeping the horses at a walk for much of the distance so they could speak freely with one another. Cullen told her that he'd left Emain Macha largely because he didn't know what else to do with himself after she'd told him she was with Charlie. But once he'd arrived in Dun-Dealgan, he'd been too agitated to stay there and had been about to return to Emain Macha anyway when Cathbad had arrived, telling him about Tess's predicament. After speaking with Cullen, the druid had sent a raven to Naoise merely with the message that Conchobar was after them. Unfortunately, Éogan had managed to follow the bird and track down the brothers, who weren't very far north at all, and he and his men had taken Deirdre first in order to draw the brothers along. By the time Emery had seen them in Emain Macha they had, as she'd thought, been already brutalized. When Cathbad had heard from his returning raven what had happened, he'd gone back to Tess, with Cullen promising to follow as soon as he could, for he'd been detained by the sighting of a Dearg-Due, a woman sucking the blood of anyone she could lure into the forest, as well as by some infighting amongst the residents of the hillfort. As soon as he'd been able, though, he'd rushed back with Liath Macha and Great Fury, desirous of pleasing Emery on his return.
"I do a disservice to my people, to have been away for so long. These are restless times, and I am needed. At the very least, I must appoint a reliable chieftain in my stead," he told her as they rode back to the cliffside campsite, and Emery agreed, rather remorseful for having taken up so much of his time.
As for the brothers, Cullen was sorry for their deaths, though he wasn't particularly surprised by them. Emery knew he didn't share the depths of his anger with her--anger toward Conchobar, toward his inability to help men he considered his Knights. And again, she felt guilt for her part in detaining him. He tried to explain the warriors' oath of fealty, what the Red Branch Knights had sworn to the King, what all warriors swore to their king. As much as Cullen disliked what had become of Naoisie and his brothers, they'd sworn fealty, and their responsibility had been to return to Conchobar when he'd called them, no matter their feelings; to do otherwise was indeed treachery. Cullen said that he himself had done much for the King that he wouldn't have done had he not sworn his oath. Emery didn't mention the way she'd seen her husband speak to Conchobar. She knew the King was frightened of his nephew, and that was probably the only reason Cullen was still alive.
When Emery had fallen ill on their way to meet the others who'd gone ahead in hopes of saving Deirdre, Cullen had left her in Cathbad's care. The minute the druid had seen the marks on Emery's neck and wrist, he'd spoken with Cullen, and they'd determined that Cathbad must attempt to contact Lir. It'd been Cullen's idea; he knew that Emery was keeping secrets, and he knew, too (with his knowledge of weaponry), that the God possessed a magical sword that forced answers from anyone to whose throat it was held. Fortunately for all of them, Lir had been on the lookout for Emery anyway, and despite Cathbad's waning abilities, he'd been able to make contact with Lir with relative ease.
While Cathbad had been working on his divination, Cullen had ridden with Keltar and Cearnach to hunt down Éogan. They couldn't kill their King just yet, but they could at least exact vengeance on the man who had actually murdered the brothers. Éogan had been easy enough to find, and Cearnach had done the honors, decapitating the villain with one blow. It was Éogan's head which he'd placed at Deirdre's pyre. The other Knights--Lóegaire and Fergus mac Roy and Cethern mac Fintan--had returned to Emain Macha with the King, while Cearnach and Keltar and Bricriu had stayed behind with him. Cullen didn't have to say it for Emery to know that was an ill sign--the Red Branch splitting, forced to take sides.
By the time they'd reached the camp, the others had begun to worry at their absence. After some discussion, it was determined that they'd head back to Dun-Dealgan, including those Red Branch Knights and King's men who had remained with Cullen. From there, they could decide what must be done. Surely Conchobar was not satisfied with his nephew's reaction to everything that had happened and still--perhaps even more, now--considered him a threat. That would have to be dealt with, at some point. But the more pressing matter was how to help Emery which, as Cathbad and Lir avowed, was a concern for all, even if few others knew of it. They spoke as they rode, during intervals when the horses needed rest or when they walked the animals for the purpose of conversation.
Emery rode Liath Macha and Cullen, Dub Saingleand. Tess had her pony, which she still referred to as Cookie Dough, and Cathbad had acquired a pony of his own, which Tess had apparently named S'more. Lir showed up on an absolutely beautiful steed, white and gleaming under the sunlight, which he called Énbarr of the Flowing Mane. Cearnach, Emery noticed with some disgust, had attached Éogan's severed head to his horse; it joined a slew of other wizened trophies from battles past.
"I hear he has a fine daughter," Cearnach confided in Emery at one point, gesturing to his newly-acquired head, "who disliked him as much as I did. Mayhap I'll visit and present her with it as a gift."
Emery had done nothing but forced a smile at that comment.
The return journey was a matter of a few days, for no one felt the need to press on at rapid speed. They didn't waste time, either, though, being wary of the forces that might be moving around them. They continued to see strange and upsetting signs as they traveled, carrion birds--particularly large crows--circling their party, as if awaiting imminent death; large swathes of land blackened and decaying into syrupy blight; abandoned dwellings, some devoid of all life, others scattered with the remains of former inhabitants—there was little joy amongst them as the journey lengthened. The few nights they did spend encamped were nerve-wracking, with all-night guards (Emery didn't see Cullen sleep at all during their trip) and a few terrifying false alarms. Though Emery was desperate to find a moment alone to try to talk to Charlie, Cullen was protective of her and all of them, for valid reasons, so the girl didn't have any opportunity.
Once everyone was in the walls of the hillfort, a sense of ease returned, though it was tempered with anxiety. Cullen and Cathbad and a host of others went directly to the feasting hall not to feast but to discuss all manner of matters that had taken place in Cullen's absence as well as to plan for what was to come. Emery was happy not to be a part of all that talk; she wanted nothing more than to take a bath and spend an actual night in her and her husband's roundhouse. She and Tess walked the distance to the dwelling they'd used to share with Oonagh and that Tess now shared with Cathbad. They spoke to one another almost as if it were old times; they'd talked much on the way home, and Tess had apologized for all the anger she'd built up. She hadn't understood Emery's actions, and she'd spent weeks seeing Cathbad struggle alone in Dun-Dealgan while Cullen was off trying to find his wife. So when they'd at last found Emery and she'd recovered enough to tell Tess about Charlie, Tess's frustration was at a boiling point, and her friend's seeming lack of care had sent her over the edge.
On her part, Emery didn't feel deserving of an apology from Tess, who'd done nothing wrong, but she accepted one only because her friend was adamant. Emery recognized real change in Tess, whose lighthearted gentleness had hardened. This place and these times would surely harden anyone, and it must've been difficult for Tess to watch Cathbad try and fail to keep everyone safe while he was being severed from the very place that allowed him to work his magic. Tess had obviously been by his side the whole time, struggling with him. Emery was glad that they'd at least had each other.
"How are things--with you and Cat?" she couldn't help asking when they reached his and Tess's roundhouse.
Tess looked aside but her mouth turned up slightly. "We . . . we're good. He makes me happy. He works so hard to help everyone."
Emery took her friend's hand. "Just like you've always done. No wonder you're a fit." Then she let go. "I suppose we have to get our own water? To bathe?"
"I can get yours, if you want--"
"No! Definitely not. Take care of yourself. I'm fine." Emery turned and walked up the footbridge leading to her home, the huge roundhouse she'd share with Cullen. Her stomach fluttered as she neared its door. Someone had gone ahead and lit the fire upon their arrival, so when she stepped in, the place was already aglow with a soft light. Everything was exactly as she remembered it, most likely because Cullen hadn't been there much since she'd gone. How happy she was to be here, now, after her first night with him in their own bed had been stolen from her. She walked a little absent-mindedly through the dwelling, admiring the items he'd collected and stored there and the lush furs on the pallets around the fire, lighting the torches to make the atmosphere even cozier. The Dagda's cauldron was where she'd last seen it, Lugh's spear tip-down within, but when she looked past the bed curtains, she saw only the bed--no Stone of Destiny. That worried her at first, until she recalled telling him to hide it better. She'd have to ask him where he'd put it.
But the longer she stood around, the more sure she wanted a bath. She probably smelled like horse, and while most people were probably fine with that sort of thing, she felt a certain shyness, thinking about being with Cullen that night. If she could at least freshen up, she'd feel better, and perhaps he'd like a bath, too, when he returned. It'd be nice to have one prepared for him.
But the large metal washing tub stood empty. It was enormous, which made sense, considering how large her husband was, but it would take so many trips to and from the well to fill. Such a chore it would be! Everything in Dun-Dealgan was work, of course. She'd become reacclimated to the conveniences of indoor plumbing when she'd been in the bunker with Charlie. Maybe she could ask Cullen for a real serving woman, not a Charlie-in-disguise serving woman.
Dammit, I want a bath, she thought, and before she could even blink, the tub was filled with steaming water, complete with herbs and flowers and even some bubbles floating atop it.
Emery's heart beat wildly--she'd used the Darkness. She hadn't meant to . . . and yet, she wasn't going to pass up that hot water; it looked amazing.
As she removed her clothes and stepped in, relishing the beautiful comfort the bath brought her tired body, the girl dreaded the subsequent visit from Bres and likely illness she knew would soon follow, and she dreaded more having to explain it to Cullen.