An Immortal Descent

I shook my head, a slow side to side. What assurances? We had spoken of the moon and my reasons for loving an Englishman...

 

My breath caught on a memory. Chase the English away, and then we’ll talk. Had I really been so careless? It felt like years ago when he’d pressured me to consider his proposals. And like an idiot, I had agreed solely to put an end to his pestering.

 

“Think of me as Julian, if it pleases you.” He pressed a finger to his forehead. “His essence will always be a part of me.”

 

Julian—Luthais—Díoltas—Julian—

 

The names spun a circle through my mind.

 

Cate remained silent during our exchange. Even in the green light, I could see the color had drained from her face, and she stared at the man as though he were a ghost.

 

“Care to share what’s on your mind, my lady?” he asked her. “I can tell from your face you’ve figured it out, and it’s only fair that everyone share in our secret.”

 

“What secret?” Tom asked, his voice sharp. “What games are you playing now?”

 

Julian turned to him, his shoulders back and appearing several inches taller than before the transformation. “I’ll not hold it against you, blacksmith, since most men are oblivious to such matters. Even when we rode together, no one but Marin saw the likeness. I’ll wager she’d have made something of it if our ages didn’t appear so close.”

 

Tom shifted his weight with marked impatience. “Stop talking riddles, lad. If you’ve something to say, spit it out, or get on with why you’re holding that woman against her will.”

 

“Tired of riddles, are you? Then name my sire, and we’ll be done with them.” Julian returned his gaze to Cate. “Speak up, my lady. We can’t hear you.”

 

Cate remained silent. I waited like a spectator, nerves itching beneath my skin for the next move. Following their banter was like staring into a puzzle box: the pieces were there, some even connected, but not enough to discern the full image. Julian is Carmen’s offspring...he killed his own mother...he wants to break the curse.

 

“Still unwilling to admit it?” Julian gave Cate a hard smile. “I’ll give you a hint then... Grandmamma.”

 

My mouth fell open at the title and the link that would make us second cousins. It can’t be...

 

“What do you mean by that?” Tom snarled.

 

Julian squared his whole body at Tom this time, dragging Marin the necessary half step. “That Ronan is my father.”

 

The name hit me smack between the eyes. Ronan... Justine’s brother... Cate’s and Tom’s only living son...my great-uncle.

 

A loud din echoed through the cavern from the clank of Tom’s sword tip against the stone floor. The knife he’d pulled from Carmen also fell limp to his side, forgotten as he stared in dismay at Julian—his grandson.

 

Cate recovered first from the shock, or at least gave a good show of it. “I fear Ronan neglected to tell us about you.”

 

What went unsaid hung like thunder claps in the still air. Our son failed to tell us that he’d lain with a witch.

 

“I imagine because he never knew. Ronan and Carmen were lovers for a spell years back when he happened upon her prison. He left before I was born and never returned.”

 

Ailish rocked onto her toes, then back again, and I felt her eyes pass over each one of us. Henry watched and waited as well, the small bones in his hand straining beneath the skin from his grip on the sword hilt.

 

“Who raised you then?” Tom asked, near hoarse from the effort to speak.

 

“Who do you think, blacksmith?” Julian gestured his free hand at the space around us. “Carmen raised me in these caverns.”

 

My gaze darted impulsively around the pocket of light. Underground...with a witch. How could a child survive such an ordeal?

 

Cate held out her hands, palms up in a sign of supplication. “If we are family, then let Marin go. We’ve no quarrel between us.”

 

Julian sighed. “That’s where you’re wrong, my lady.”

 

“You don’t really believe that,” Cate pressed. “We can even find Ronan and make matters right. He would want to know that he has a son.” She took a small step forward.

 

“I know my father well enough without your help.” He frowned from what appeared to be an unpleasant memory. “We rode together for a year when he came back to Ireland and sought out our little band of goddess born. Isn’t that right, Marin?”

 

Marin didn’t answer. Puzzlement filled her eyes as she looked from Cate to Tom, no doubt in search of answers for how they could be grandparents to anyone, let alone a grown man.

 

“Where is Ronan now?” Tom asked, some of the strength restored to his voice.

 

“He was pursuing a lass, but when things didn’t turn out, I heard he sailed for the Colonies two months past to see the land where his sister Sarah once lived.” Julian looked at me. “Sean told us about your mother being murdered. He even hinted once or twice about having more family, but never anything outright. My guess is that Ronan got the truth from him and went to see you for himself.”

 

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