It's Just Magic!

By L. S. Fayne

Ireland 1838

The Seven Daughters of O’Byrne are thrust into the magical transformations triggered by the death of their Mother, Aine O’Byrne.

They must fight for the survival of "The Raven", their blood. The famine is coming. The nation is torn by English greed and disregard.

They are alone except for the few who know their secret. Know the magic born to them. A secret that their very neighbors would kill them for... if they only knew.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. S. Fayne
• Release date: Aug 7, 2011
• ISBN: 9781609030261

L. S. Fayne

I love to write. I love to entertain. I try to make people feel. I write fantasy adventures with a paranormal twist.Ha, in saying that... I'm at a stand still right now. Writer's block? Hell no! When a person writes, they feel... They Feel Everything. Sometimes, it can just get overwhelming. We laugh, we cry, we excite. It has to go deep to spring back up.The "O'Byrne" family is an idea of what it might be like if a Druid family was able to keep their ancestry alive. Their beliefs and their magic. This family has held tight through changes and generations. Truly, family comes first. Books are for teens through adult.The MONOP series are rather naughty. It is adult fiction. MONOP has their own ideas of how they want to protect those entrusted to them. There is a strong BDSM theme.About myself? Life can be stranger than fiction. Right now, it's baffling. I did just get a dog. Lol.

Book preview

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

From the Author

BOOKS BY L. S. FAYNE

For Young Adult and Older.

19th Century Series: The O’Byrne Daughters

Budding Magic: Book One

It’s Just Magic!: Book Two

Gathering of the Raven: Book Three

20th Century Series: Druantia’s Children

Christmas in the House of O’Byrne: Book One

Druantia’s Braids: Book Two

There Can’t Be Shadows Without Light: Book Three

21st Century: Raven Investigations

Mad Queens and Dying Kings

Romance Suspense Series: MONOP

CONTAINS ADULT SEXUAL CONTENT

The Lie that is Vermont Avenue: Book One

Marvin Buried in the Gardens: Book Two

Non-Fiction Books

FiBroMyAlgia Chatter

It’s Just Magic!

The O’Byrne Daughters - Book Two

L. S. Fayne

Copyright 2010 by L. S. Fayne

Publication by Fayne Artists

ISBN-13: 978-1-60903-026-1

Revision B

Some historic events are written into a fantasy forum. The author reserves the right to Freedom of Speech to express her views on some historic events. Any resemblance to person living or dead is purely coincidental.

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Return to Toc

Chapter One

Druantia rushed to investigate the disturbances with her Scottish Clan. Her heart ached at the destruction of this fierce clan. She gathered together the survivors, but the clan was no more. A baby who had extremely strong empathic gifts had been hidden from her. Without her aid and shielding the clan had been vulnerable to the baby’s gifts. One early morning the baby, like all babies, threw an angry fit. Only this baby, being such a strong emoting empath, had disrupted the whole clan. The young men were the first to be affected, and had berserked into a killing rage. One murder begat another and the clan was decimated.

Up until that time, Druantia had not known that it was even possible to hide one of her children from her. If the baby had not been hidden, she would have placed it under her protections and shielded it from others. She had to find out just how the baby had been hidden! This must not happen ever again!

Was the baby a Nephilim? Janet asked nervously.

No, Druantia was surprised by her question. "The baby was just angry, like babies do get. The problem was that this baby was unshielded so its rage affected everyone. The Nephilim were born long, long ago. They were the results of the mating that had occurred between the Grigori angels and the human women. The Nephilim, were the resulting children. They were very powerful—giants in size and magic. They chose to be a race that practiced cruelty and evil. They destroyed and maimed all that stood to oppose them. It was decided by the higher authority that they were not to be allowed and were destroyed."

"But I thought that you were supposed to kill them," Janet said confused.

Now and then, Druantia explained, a Nephilim soul will try to be reborn. I’m to stop that from happening.

Oh, said Janet.

Druantia could tell that Janet still did not understand. Hopefully, she wouldn’t ever have to. The only way to understand the Nephilim was to meet one. They were monsters.

What of your sighting? Druantia asked her.

It came again, Janet whispered, I saw it.

What exactly did you see? Druantia asked her.

I can’t hardly tell, Janet said frustrated, it’s that fast! I tell the girl to keep her shirts buttoned and legs closed, but she won’t listen. She’s trouble I say!

Show me the creature, Druantia commanded holding out her hand.

Janet shivered as she looked into Druantia’s brilliant green eyes—and white pupils. She should be used to them by now, but they still unnerved her. Druantia had tightened her red braids since the incident and they were tight against her head. Janet glanced at the twenty-second braid, or what was left of it. Her heart felt heavy and sorrowful. Every hair on Druantia’s head was intimately connected to one of her children. The twenty-second braid had been Janet’s own people. They had almost all perished.

Janet took hold of Druantia’s hand and allowed the link.

Druantia could have forced the link with Janet, but she didn’t do things that way. All her children had the right of choice. She would never force her way on any of them—no matter the dire circumstances.

Janet strove to remember what she had seen. It was difficult because the creature had moved so fast! Her memory was just a blur. Druantia slowed the memory down. They both gasped as the image of an angel filled her memory. Druantia held the image to better see what they were dealing with.

It was an angel, but something was wrong with it. Druantia had been around the whole host of angels for a very long time. Her father was an angel. Maybe not a very good one, she reflected, but an angel nevertheless. It wasn’t just the way it looked, although that was different enough, it was the way it held itself.

I think it has modified itself! Druantia said startled. I didn’t know that they could do that.

Druantia frowned as she studied the memory. The angel was very tall. It had double wings with very wide spans. She could tell by its glow that it was very powerful, a higher order of angel than what she usually dealt with. Druantia was shocked by its expression. She had never seen malicious glee or greed on the face of an angel before.

This is the same creature as you saw watching the conclave? Druantia asked.

I think it is, Janet told her.

She showed Druantia the glimpse she had seen of this creature as it watched the Scottish O’Byrne conclave. As soon as it felt Janet’s eyes upon it, it had vanished.

Thank you, Druantia released her hand.

What do you want us to do? Janet asked worriedly.

Druantia paused in thought. There was really nothing her children could do. To quantify their helplessness would only cause fear and mistrust amongst her children—what remained of them. She knew that this was the creature who had hid the baby from her, the baby who had been born wrong. Why the hiding—she couldn’t fathom.

"I will invite Diana to the safety of my priestess, Druantia told her. The creature should lose interest and move on. I will track it. I don’t understand the motives of this—thing."

Diana will not want to go, Janet told her bluntly.

Then you must convince her, Druantia said sternly, or remove her. If she cares about the safety of her friends and family, she will go. It is not forever. If she does not, then her heart is cold. She will have to find her own path.

Druantia kissed Janet’s head and departed.

Janet felt shocked and sucked in her breath. Druantia’s words were very harsh. Diana could die of disease and starvation if she was cast out of the family. On reflection though, Janet realized, anyone who didn’t have the family’s best interest at heart with their current strained circumstances, did not deserve the protections of the family.

The family—Janet reflected—there weren’t enough of them left alive to really claim to be family anymore. Tears welled up in her eyes. Aye, Diana could either straighten up—or leave!

Druantia searched for the signature of the angel. It wasn’t hard to find. It was brilliant with power. Druantia frowned feeling confused. How one such as it, could possibly have done such a bazaar deed was beyond her understanding. She sighed. She knew from personal experience that angels made mistakes.

She watched as it lingered in the third heaven. She launched herself towards the angel. She didn’t really have a plan. She only had speech to persuade the angel to leave her children be. It was way more powerful than she.

It—she—was waiting for Druantia. Druantia was stunned by her beauty. All angels were beautiful, but never had she seen an angel enhance itself to be even more so. She had used color to augment her eyes which blazed like polished blue lapis. Her cheeks were delicately pink, her lips brilliant red. Her hair was long and shimmered with the different hues of the sunset.

Druantia was speechless at the sight of her. Most angels were beautiful, like that of a statue—remote. This one looked like a human actress, or even maybe a whore—a very beautiful whore. Druantia stared at her in shock.

Druantia, she spoke lightly. I know of you. I am Jashma. It is said that you guard your children well.

But not well enough, Druantia spoke to her. I seem to have missed your interference with them.

It is no big deal, she shrugged, one infant of whom I was curious about.

That curiosity caused the destruction of a clan, Druantia told her harshly.

So what would you have done about the baby? she asked. Killed it like you did the Nephilim?

Of course not, Druantia said appalled. It would have been protected from itself and from others.

I am Jashma. I did what I wanted to do, she shrugged. It did not go well for what I wanted, either.

Druantia’s eyes narrowed. She had never heard an angel talk with such a selfish lack of regard.

You are falling from grace, Druantia told her. You must stay away from my children.

Her eyes flashed and she threw herself at Druantia, shoving her hard towards the edge of the third heaven. Druantia caught herself on the barrier, barely stopping from bounding into the void. The void wasn’t deadly. It wasn’t anything. If one entered without attention, one could become lost, and could even wander into one of the hells. A fate no angel—or even part angel—would choose to do.

"Who are you to be telling me what I can and cannot do? The angel sneered at her. I think you need a lesson. You seem to have forgotten yourself."

Shocked, Druantia felt herself grabbed and thrown into the void. The angel laughed and taunted her as it flung her around, stealing energy with every grab, every hit. She was so fast! Druantia tried to fight back, but didn’t know how to fight one such as she. This was an angel created by the highest. Druantia was not. By their standards, Druantia was a lesser being. She had no wings. She was slow. She had been remade.

Your humanness works against you, the angel scoffed at her. "You feel weakness and pain. I feel none of those things!"

She demonstrated this by kicking Druantia in the stomach, launching her farther into the void. She then sped up to catch her again. Druantia gasped with shock and pain. She was playing with her the way a cat would play with a mouse, and Druantia couldn’t even touch her. Druantia felt so frustrated, and so helpless.

You are not dying, the angel said curiously. Why do you act so—you silly thing? What is pain, but a warning that the body is being damaged? You are undamaged.

She punched Druantia in the head and stared at her without expression, observing Druantia’s obvious pain. Druantia groaned and pressed her hands against her head. She tried to send some healing energy to soothe the pain, but she was depleted.

You experience pain without damage, she told her, you are made inferior to us!

Yes, Druantia gasped out as pain lashed through her head. "But I may also know passion, lust—wild abandon. What good is one feeling without all the others? Is that what you want? You crave that which you may never have!"

You know nothing! The angel snarled, hitting into Druantia’s heart chakra and stealing the last of her energy. Druantia felt herself hit again. This time the hit sent her spiraling forcefully away. She was helpless to stop her own momentum. She was fearful that she would smash into one of the hells. If she did—she was doomed, for they—the daemon—would not hesitate to destroy one such as she. She could hear the angel mock her—leaving her to flip aimlessly through the void.

****

Druantia wasn’t sure for how long she drifted, most of the time she wasn’t even aware that she was in the void. Her mind visited her children whose consciousness was bound up within her hair. She could never truly leave them. The Seraphim made sure of that when she had been remade.

A ripple in the plains caught her attention. She focused her awareness and could see that one of her children had called upon Rassptishae, the great serpent, and offered up one of her own nieces as his bounty. Her hands clinched in frustration. She should have paid more attention to that child long ago. She should have removed her from her mother’s care. Oh well, the other daughter fared well. In fact, she had been very fond of Aine, and was expecting great things from her daughters. She watched them for awhile. She was very proud of the way Alana stood firm, protecting her mammoth donkey with every fiber of her being. That child would go far!

She watched as the serpent, unsatisfied with the offering, dragged Caryn down into the hole from where the serpent had ascended. Druantia didn’t even have the strength at that moment to pluck Caryn from the Serpents den. She watched as Caryn endured Rassptishae’s torments. She had very little sympathy, for the child was truly dark, and Caryn’s actions had so angered her.

She suddenly felt herself being touched with a blaze of energy. Surprised, she looked into the eyes of a Seraph.

I am Sherimae, she was told. "You still have a job to do. You must make your way to the seventh heaven. I was not requested to intercede for you. You must find your own way and observe the protocols to succeed."

Druantia was surprised again to feel herself shoved away. She didn’t have a fathom of understanding to know where she was being shoved towards, but was willing to believe that Sherimae would have no other purpose than to move her towards the seventh heaven.

She reflected as she drifted. Sherimae had only given her enough energy to go in the direction she had been pushed. Sometimes an angel would take an interest in something, or someone and render unsolicited aid. This worked out most times—well sometimes. A lot of the host had taken notice of her children. They were curious about them. This obviously included the angel who had attacked her.

Once she arrived at the barrier, she softly tested it. It was a heavenly boundary, not hellish.

Druantia shivered as she made her way through the barrier. Her energy was depleted. She had not felt such pain since being changed. She was only half angel, remade to watch and care for her children. The children were her responsibility. She had never—until then—felt so unfit for the task.

She walked through the gates and requested an audience with the Choir. She was met by an angel of moderate rank. She was surprised to be treated with a respectful nod. Rarely, had she walked this path, and never had she been treated as a peer.

The chamber would be blindingly bright for mortal eyes, but Druantia’s were no longer mortal. Her eyes adapted to the glory of those in power before her.

I have a fallen one who is tormenting my children, Druantia stated to the assembly. I am unfit for such a task. I come here to request intervention.

We know of the one, one of the Powers sang out. We will not interfere. She is not fallen, but evolving. It is like that of a human child becoming aware of self and realizing choices. She must be left unfettered.

What of my children? Druantia cried out. She has caused great suffering. Even a human child is expected to receive guidance from the parent. They are not just left to flounder.

You cannot judge, one told her stoutly, you were born a mortal. We were created with all knowledge of right and wrong, but without awareness of choice. It is celebrated when one of our own develops to a place of greater power. This can only be done by the realization of self, because only then can there be choice.

It matters not to me, Druantia told them. My task is my children. She has caused them to die. She was unrepentant for the pain she caused.

She simply does not yet understand pain, one angel told her. She will learn.

She needs to learn in some other way then by torturing my children, Druantia stated stoutly.

You exaggerate, one suggested.

Enough, One angel stood to tell her of their decision. We have been pleased that you have taken your responsibilities to heart. It was not easy for you to destroy the Nephilim, but you were so tasked and fulfilled your promise. We are pleased that you realized that this happening is not within your power, and that you have come for intervention. We recognize that you only know how to defeat the mortals. We will create a secured garden for your replenishment and provide an instructor for you to learn the acts of war. That is all. We will not interfere with this one’s journey.

Druantia stood before them appalled. The one who had just trashed her was very versed with the techniques of war. This was not enough. They needed to intervene—to stop her!

The one who attacked against me is a very good fighter, Druantia spoke out. I have more to lose than she. I have all my children relying on my abilities, and I fear that this will not be enough.

We have spoken, they declared.

There is more, a voice spoke out from behind Druantia, that we might do.

Sherimae, I see that you have returned, the Power acknowledged. What do you say of this?

She could go to the Forth Hell, she told them.

That is not permitted, the Power scolded her.

"We are not permitted, Sherimae reminded them. The rule does not pertain to her."

"We will not be a part of such a deed, they told her. We will set up the garden as we have spoken and provide the trainer. We will do no more. We have spoken."

Sherimae bowed and retreated from the Choir. She had placed the bread crumbs. It would be up to Druantia to follow them.

Jashma stood on the edge of the court and listened. She was surprised that Druantia was not still in the void. She sneered secretly with contempt. She was greater than these. They could do nothing against her. She flew outward and again flushed out her brilliant colors. She would just see what the Daemon had to offer.

Druantia suddenly found herself in the garden which they had spoken. She hung her head in defeat. She was vastly disappointed to not be able to get aid for her children. She looked towards the outer parameter and could see the shield which had been placed around the garden. She could feel the shield within her awareness and knew that it was within her control. She then blended her own power into it—making it stronger—making it obey only her.

The garden was on a planet outside the void, between the heavens and hells. Druantia could feel the nourishing grass beneath her feet, and feel the calming air flowing through her body. She looked around astounded. This was the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. She lay down in the grass and could feel the earth renewing her energy. She luxuriated, breathing in the sweet scents of the flowers around. She looked out to see that her children were safe. She sent out a reassuring pulse to them, letting them know that she was with them.

She felt the tap which told her of someone at her barrier. She sucked in her breath in shock. It was Rhebul! She closed her eyes tightly. She couldn’t believe that of all the angels, in all the heavens, they had selected him!

She walked to the edge and stared out at him. He was as brilliant as she remembered. His wings were snowy white, his skin bronzed, making his eyes look fiercely blue. Unlike most angels, his kind was created to walk amongst man. He could fashion all human emotions and expressions. His face now was chiseled into a mocking sneer.

Rhebul was a Grigori angel. His wings were more stunted then most angels, and when not in flight, drew up into themselves to drape over his shoulder. Her ancestors might very well have mistaken them for animal skins which most wore at that time to ward off the cold. It was only when a person got close that they would see the individual feathers, and realized that they were not made of skins.

I’ve been assigned to instruct you, he told her, in the art of war.

She begrudgingly let him into her garden.

I will teach you the difference between the mortal and angel energy plains. Striking an angel at the locations of a mortal’s chakra will have no effect, he told her. I will also teach you how to steal energy to deplete your enemy. You will learn to be precise, since you cannot compete with speed. Stand on your guard!

The fight was on! For six days and nights Druantia and Rhebul battled each other. By the seventh day, he declared her fit enough.

What is in the Forth Hell which could aid my quest? Druantia asked him.

"What do you know of such?" He glared at her.

It was mentioned at the counsel, those of whom called you here, Druantia side-stepped the question, for she knew nothing about the fourth hell.

There is one who has the skills to form such weapons as that which I carry, he indicated his sword. We have been denied admittance to the Forth Hell. It is controlled by the daemon. Weapons such as this are becoming a rarity.

Is this weapon worthy of pursuit? She persisted.

It is, he stared at her. The one who has such abilities is wily and tormented. You will not be able to acquire such without losing something of yourself. If you follow that path, be prepared for deceit.

I need more than this, she signified his teachings. I will go.

Call me, he told her, when you have been successful and I will further teach you—so you will not slice off your own head.

I will—father, she nodded.

He sighed and sat down in her grass. She stared at him with surprise because he rarely bothered with her. It had been her mother whom he had been so enamored with. She was just a nuisance, a byproduct of a union which should not have happened—a reminder of his guilt—and his sin.

She could see why her mother had fallen for him. She could see just what kind of influence those brilliant blue eyes would have on a mortal with their heated gaze. They were heated now, but it wasn’t with lust. She was unsure of what emotion moved within him. She sat and waited for him to speak.

You are much like your mother, he told her. "There are skills which she had that the angels do not—skills you also possess. I cannot instruct you in these, but have seen that you seem to have abandoned some of them. You need to blend what I have taught you, with what you learned by your mother. You are out of balance. You have not meditated into yourself—soothing your own spirit. You have not walked the paths. They could give you an advantage which only those of very high standing could equal."

The paths are treacherous, she told him surprised. The future is not definite. One unpredicted choice could be the undoing of that path. I have been trapped before trying to find the perfect solution, only to find that while trapped, I missed that very opportunity.

I see, he stood to leave, I will return when you call.

"So—this weapon—it will be able to destroy Daemon as well as Angel?" she asked him.

Yes, he told her sadly and exited her garden.

She sat and watched the clouds move above her. He was right. She had neglected the ways of her mother’s people. Her mother had been part human, and part elfin. Her mother had taken great care and time to work with her to blend what was angel in with what was mortal. She felt a little ashamed. She would be very angry with her own children if they had discarded such teachings.

It had been a long time since she sought the paths of possibilities. She looked out amongst her children and saw that they were well protected. She protected her children, but they also had their own natural guardians—like all humans—those assigned to their personal wellbeing.

She studied herself and saw that she was indeed out of balance. It was no wonder that the creature had been so able to demoralize her. She opened herself up to the light and energy and let it sweep through her soul. Only when she felt complete, did she venture into the paths.

Return to Toc

Chapter Two

It was at day break when their Aunt had arrived to collect the daughter’s of Aine, and to place them under her dominance. They had stayed up all night planning and preparing. All for nothing. She had outsmarted them, and out-magic’d them. They had fought back hard, but it was their Aunt’s own black magic that had finally defeated her.

Now, in a state of shock, the sisters were picking themselves up. Later, they would have to see exactly what kind of damage their Aunt had done. All they knew at the moment was that she had somehow stolen Celeste away.

Kellan was surprised to spy the look of tenderness in her uncle’s startling blue eyes as he gently picked up the sleeping Vevila, taking her into the house. The tenderness surprised her. They hadn’t known their uncle for very long. He had just shown up after their mother’s death. She had no idea where he had been all their lives.

She didn’t know how she felt about him yet. He’d been burned with the Raven, so she knew he must be okay. Dara had worked with him in the healing arts and liked him a lot.

Vevila looked so little as she was carried away in his huge arms. The dart their Aunt Caryn had shot her with had been removed, but she still did not wake. Dara assured them that it was only a sleeping potion. Kellan watched as Kane and Rhoswen followed them into the house. Kellan shivered. They could have all been killed. Some homecoming, Kellan thought sadly.

This wasn’t a home anymore, just a broken, empty shell. How could a house be a home without their mother and father? How were they going to manage without them? Kellan felt the tears well up in her eyes and angrily pushed them back down. She firmed up her shoulders. They would just have to manage. They were better off without their deranged Aunt. They were actually lucky that the snake had dragged her away.

Alana was calming Kingdom by gently stroking his large head. He was crying with such distressed pain that Kellan felt the tears well up in her eyes again. She felt so helpless, and so angry. He was very loud, and who could blame him? He hurt!

Kingdom, had tried to protect them by rushing up on the evil woman, but she had been prepared for him and tossed a thriving thistle seed into the ground in front of him. The plant had reared up and covered him, pulling him to the ground with its thorny vines. It was only Alana’s quick wits, earth magic, and stubborn determination that had saved his life.

Kingdom was a super huge, shaggy donkey. They had tried to groom him, but his hair was so long that it just got snarled up again. The bright green thorns were imbedded deeply into his hair and skin. Alana kissed the white above his nose. She looked into his large brown eyes and knew that he understood that they were going to help him. She started removing the thorns one at a time. She tried to sooth him with her gifts, but he still cried from the pain.

Dara walked over to join Alana. The two twins conversed quietly as Dara laid her healing hands on Kingdoms head. His bellows stopped. Kellan felt tears well up again. This time with pride, she was thankful that she had such resourceful sisters.

I can fix this, Dara assured Alana tiredly as she soothed away his pain. The punctures aren’t very deep and the thorns weren’t poisoned. They were barbed though. This is going to take some time. We have to remove all of them or they will fester.

It was cruel! Alana cried out, hurtful and so unnecessary!

"I’m sure she thought it necessary, Kellan called out as she walked towards them. Kingdom would have stomped her dead if he could have reached her. He’s a good donkey."

She stroked just above his nose, one of the few places which didn’t have thorn marks. He nuzzled her hand. She smiled into his big, trusting, eyes.

You will be okay, she told him. We will all be okay.

Kellan caressed his ear tip, and then marched into the house for a pair of their mothers special tweezers. She brought them out, but Alana quickly snatched them from her fingers before she could use them. Kellan just shrugged and made her way to the hole in the ground.

She stood staring down into the gaping darkness where the Great Serpent had broken its way through to their world—summoned by their Aunt. Kellan knew that their Aunt was impatient, selfish, and at times a bit cruel. She had also acted like she was afraid of magic. None of them had a clue that she was evil and practiced blood sorcery—not even their mother. Kellan hoped the hole led to hell, and her Aunt stayed down there!

Kellan walked towards the barrier which her mother and father had worked so hard to create. The barrier would protect their land against the English and the homeless. Only the family, and those seared with the magical mark of the Raven, could walk back and forth across the barrier.

She pulled herself up onto the rock wall and turned towards the house. She willed herself to see what others would see, those without the mark. Ocean filled her view. She drew in a deep breath, smelling the seaweed ocean sent, feeling the mist as it touched her face.

The ocean was real. It wasn’t an illusion. Her mother had the gift of sight and perception. She foretold of the struggles Ireland would be facing. After studying some of their mother’s writings, they realized that their parents had created a time warped barrier. There would be a time possibility when there could actually be an ocean just beyond her feet. That was what she was seeing and feeling now. Somehow, her mother and father had twisted time in such a way that the ocean was here—today.

Tears flushed out her eyes as she thought of her mother. Aine had died giving birth to Haley. Kellan had been