Treason and Treasure: Exiles of Eire, #2

By Brie Tart

Can he save his own life, even if it means sacrificing someone he loves?

After helping to rescue his sister from the High King's clutches, Daire must now put her on the throne. 

With all eyes on her, nobody will notice him and his human accomplice, Maya, stealing the sacred treasures they need to cure the curse on him.

But his family fears his sister's vengeance should she rise to power. They will do everything they can to stop her. 

He must defy them to save himself, to save Maya.

Because if he can't cure the curse in time, the girl he's come to love will suffer the consequences.

 

Come join Maya, Daire, and Riona on their epic, twisting journey together to determine the ultimate fate of the ancient Irish fae, the Exiles of Eire.

*Also available to read on Royal Road under the title Exiles of Eire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brie Tart
• Release date: Jul 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393320128

Brie Tart

Brie Tart writes character driven fantasies (with a touch of romance) for teens and adults. Mythology and folklore have always inspired her work, and with every story she seeks to find the humanity in the monsters of legend. When not writing, she deciphers languages and makes her own adventures with her family: her jack-of all-trades husband and photogenic, fluffy cat.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Midir’s trek through his younger brother’s home at Bru Na Boinne rekindled dormant hopes he should have abandoned long ago. After he won Etain’s hand, he and his new wife had stayed their first year of marriage among Bru Na Boinne’s halls. In the guest wing, he stopped at a familiar door with two interlocked swans carved upon it: their former bedchamber. He traced his fingers over their graceful necks, entwined as him and Etain had once been after he earned her affections. That year planted a still present wish that he could build a family with the only woman he had ever loved.

He came upon one of Etain’s early tapestries. It depicted a butterfly trapped under a glass globe; his beloved often envisioned herself still imprisoned like that. She saw death’s abyss as her only means of freedom from her confining husband. Freedom from his home, his protection, his love. Etain had loved him back once, before her mind splintered, and he had to keep her safe from herself. But how could he fault her? He’d condemned their only child to the same grim fate she desired, not that she would ever know.

The proof of that secret crime against his son pulsed under his arm, a book allegedly chronicling everything that could be known about the Key—the power that served as his world’s only access to the perilous mortal realm. The pages would tell how he had helped his brothers save their ancient race by trapping the Key inside his then newborn child, Daire. Worst of all, the tome would reveal how he had agreed to let his kin put a curse on the Key that would destroy it, and slay his boy in the process, when the right time came. That decision had banished any shred of the shining life he’d once imagined out of his reach forever. No matter what fantastic magic he wielded, Midir could not take back all he had lost. And attempting to salvage what little he had left only brought about more mourning.

Aengus’ study came into view. The smell of parchment and wood shavings filled the air as Midir drew near.

Solemn faced, and with a sour gurgle in his belly, he rapped his knuckles against the door. Aengus had mentioned that the gold-embossed book Midir now carried held the secret to Daire’s salvation as well. Had he given his son enough time to discover it? The soft boy squandered many of the privileges his protected status afforded him. If he could only take advantage of them, he might live past Samhain to inherit Midir’s territory.

Aengus opened the door with his yellow curls running wild, his flamboyant tunic rumpled, sure signs he’d just practiced combat maneuvers. Midir’s eccentric younger brother had been a joy to parent with his scholarly wit and dauntless heart. So much less delicate than Daire with his fastidious creativity and fragile sensibilities.

You’re more prompt than I thought you’d be, Aengus greeted, offering Midir a sad smile.

Bodb won’t let this matter wait. Midir brushed stray ringlets out of Aengus’ eyes as he set the book into his brother’s waiting hand. To put off returning it would be fruitless.

It’s better this way. I’d hate to chase you down to fulfill an oath. Aengus turned, waving Midir into the small library. The way you snuck through my wards was impressive. I actually put work into those.

Experience can still win against a prodigy’s talents, little brother. Midir didn’t enter, but lingered in the hallway instead. What does Bodb intend for the tome?

Destruction, I’m afraid. Aengus sighed as he turned the volume over. The cover that faced Midir had his sigil, a ram, standing under Etain’s symbol, a butterfly. A pity he still doesn’t see the value in preserving these bits of knowledge. He should know better.

Why? Midir’s dread lanced into his bowels. No matter how he tried to dismiss Daire over the years, he couldn’t bear the imminent reality of his only boy laying lifeless in his arms. Does he know anything of the cure?

No. He doesn’t suspect my treasonous alteration. Aengus flipped through the blank pages one by one as if they had writing. That ritual was some of my better work—

Don’t tell me. Midir slashed his hand through the air. Aengus went silent. The more I know, the more my loyalty oaths will compel me to confess. I’m surprised you managed to find a way around yours.

I owe you too much not to, especially with you begging over the lad like you did. Aengus frowned as he paused at the mid point in the book. Still, I wouldn’t hold out much hope for Daire’s survival. You should try to spend some quality time with him. Enjoy his final moments while they last.

He wouldn’t have me, Midir scoffed. I tried to connect with him. Lessons in basic swordplay, archery, even riding. Every time he whined to Etain, and she scolded me for ‘pushing him too hard.’

Both your styles of magic are attuned to the ground. Why not help him take care of the gardens?

You doubt Daire’s ability to save himself?

He’s more capable than he seems. But the command to end the Key draws on very complex and powerful magic. Aengus shut the book with a final, hollow thump. The cure had to be equally challenging to maintain balance.

Then attempting to renew a relationship with him will only skew his attention. Midir wore at the pommel of his sword with his thumb. His eye twitched and blurred the world around him.

Your nerves are showing. Aengus tapped under his right eye. Of all Midir’s family, Aengus never missed that old injury making itself known.

Midir rubbed his eyelid, and the right side of the world ceased spasming. If I start treating him as if I will lose him, then what good was it stealing the book, leaving it for him to find and decipher?

You gave him his best chance. Aengus clapped his brother’s shoulder. Now leave the rest to him.

Midir’s stomach sank at the realization. It was like the walls of his race’s realm were closing all over again. He’d felt each of his other children living in the mortal world die one by one before his tenuous connection to them cut off. He’d stared at the only son he had left, swaddled in his arms and wailing with bits of blood still clinging to his chubby folds. He should have felt joy at holding the infant, not bone-deep despair from knowing that he would lose that precious babe as well.

I can’t invest in him, now, Midir said as a knot thickened his throat. Not while knowing what’s to come.

At least consider it. Aengus drew Midir into a hug, his expression far off before Midir lost sight of it. Either way, he’ll need you when the end comes.

Midir held his youngest sibling in a tight embrace. Aengus had always made up for his failings as a father. When Daire grew to be a boy of dreams rather than action, Aengus stepped in to teach him where Midir couldn’t. As Etain’s wits deteriorated and her hatred of her husband grew, Aengus had provided Daire companionship in Midir’s stead. Perhaps it was time to stop letting someone else take care of his family. But could he endure it if his work to restore those relationships became all for naught?

The brothers separated. Aengus conjured an arcane flame in one palm and held the Key’s tome over it. The thin vellum pages crackled first, resembling burning flesh. The wood panels holding them together followed soon after like they were fuel for a funeral pyre.

CHAPTER 1

My curse progressed day by day, marching me toward Samhain like it escorted me to a headsman’s axe. I raked my fingers through the wiry ribbons of unnatural white in my otherwise yellow hair—they weren’t as visible if I blended the strands together. My eternal youth had halted my physical aging once I reached my prime: about ten-and-nine years. Yet, as I twined the top layers of my hair into delicate braids, I tried not to stare at the fine worry lines in my reflection that should not be there. When my braids were ready to tie off, I pinched what progress I’d made in place as I stretched my power toward the dirt wall of my subterranean sleeping quarters. The simple spell of growing my ivy vines from the soil left me panting. My bed of lily vines along the rear of my desk seemed the shudder, the edges of their grassy leaves tinged with brown. Were their white pedals also duller, or did my mind only perceive them that way?

What’re you getting ready for? Maya sat behind me on the edge of my bed, hugging one of my pillows to her stomach. It had become her routine to sit there and fiddle with the tassels—their texture amused her while we talked.

Another meeting with my family. I wound ivy through the first of my braids and winced. My arms started to ache from keeping them aloft for so long. I have to give them word on Riona’s campaign progress.

Here, let me get that. Maya’s reflection in my mirror stood up and approached. She took the vine from me, her fingers brushing mine and sending a shock through my hand. Her casual touches only had that effect recently. Something about staying in my world must have altered her appearance. There was a new softness to her abundant curves, and her hair had grown to be more whimsical than boyish. She blew away the fringe hanging in her eyes. Yeesh, I’m overdue for a trim. You guys wouldn’t have any scissors laying around would you?

To cut it? That’s unfortunate. This length suits your cheeks.

It gets in the way.

Very well. You might braid it or ask Riona to make you some small shears. Speaking of my estranged half-sister… Unspoken questions hovered on the tip of my tongue. Was there any news? Any progress I could report to keep my family from pestering me? Any update that might help Maya fetch the Aos Si’s sacred treasures so I wouldn’t have to die?

Maya shook her head. She’s still calling people in mirrors. I don’t even know who she’s targeting first. My best guess is she’s trying everyone and seeing who sticks.

Nothing? I slouched. Maya tugged back on my hair. I straightened my posture. Samhain is only weeks away.

I know. I can’t remember when I’ve dreaded a birthday this much.

Pardon?

You said Samhain is Halloween, right? That’s my birthday. Maya paused and wrinkled her nose. I’m supposed to be nineteen, but I’m not sure how the weird time flow between this world and home affects that.

We’ll have to honor it between treasure hunting, I said offhand. Maya would want to celebrate the anniversary of her birth with her family, no doubt. Yet her mother… Maya knew that her mother, Jennifer, injured herself while panicking over losing her daughter. However, Maya believed that wound had caused amnesia. The reality I witnessed—and helped hide from her—was much less optimistic, and meant Maya wouldn’t have a family to return to when I sent her home.

Do you guys even celebrate birthdays here? Maya asked.

Not exactly, I said. It doesn’t mean the two of us can’t.

Maya tied off the vine and stepped away. That good?

When I turned my head toward the mirror, I found the vine’s bow a mite crooked. My scalp still tingled where she’d touched it. I could let it be. It’s enough. Is there anything else we can do in the meantime until Riona wins an audience with a king or queen on the voting council?

There has to be. Maya bit down on the piercing under her bottom lip as she thought. It’d help if we could communicate without having to meet in your room. If I had magic, then I could just use a mirror. That’s scrying, right?

"Yes. Now that you mention it, I could enchant a pair of mirrors to function like human telephones. I took out the small bronze mirror my aunt had made for me from my belt pouch. I pushed my power into the frame to alter the mirror’s purpose. It gave off a flickering light. Cold sweat broke out along my neck and cheeks. My knees gave, and I fell into my desk chair, panting hard. I’ll… I’ll have to take care of that another time."

It looks like it’s getting harder to use your mojo, huh? Maya squeezed my shoulder in another one of those easy gestures. I’ll see what I can do to encourage your sister. Maybe that’ll give her other ideas to get her campaign moving.

We can only hope. I held my chest. It had started burning before I cut off the flow of my trickling power. Would my breathing have stalled if I had continued? It served as a constant reminder of our mission.

I had long enjoyed wielding my unique power, the Key. My father, along with my two uncles, had created it to keep my world, Tir Na Nog, and my race, the Aos Si, closed off from the dangers of humanity. As the Key’s vessel, I alone could harness its abilities to see, interact, and make portals to and from the human world. The catch? Its magic required the High King’s permission.

My eldest uncle and the Aos Si’s current High King, Bodb Derg, had announced the end of his rule recently. He bid the men of my family to secretly instill the Key with a curse so they could eliminate it. However, that curse would kill me as well. I had only learned a matter of months ago that Uncle Bodb had activated it. My innate magic had drained bit by bit ever since. Maya and I had to sever the Key’s power from the High King’s authority with a mysterious ritual by Samhain, and the election of Bodb’s replacement. If we didn’t, the Key would be destroyed, and take me with it.

What little I knew of the cure required that a human bring together the Aos Si’s four sacred treasures: Lugh’s Spear, Nuada’s Sword, the Dagda’s Cauldron, and the Stone of Destiny. Our plan revolved around my half-sister, Riona, bringing Maya to each province where three of the treasures lay as she ran for High King. Maya would steal them and bring them to the Stone of Destiny. Sometime between those steps, I would have to take back the book I’d found the ritual in and search for its last steps. If only Father hadn’t discovered the tome and returned it to Uncle Aengus.

You should get to your big meeting before they miss you. Maya went to my ivy-embossed mirror and pushed through the gold-tinted glass. When I first met her, she had been so tentative with using mirror-portals to go from place to place in Tir Na Nog. Her confidence had come a long way since she first tumbled into my room. I caught myself proudly smiling as she disappeared.

I stepped into Father’s domed study, full of antiquated scrolls and glowing stones, so he could escort me to the meeting. Father and my uncles had traded hosting the occasion since Riona announced her candidacy—Aunt Brigid could not because she served as my ailing human mother’s caretaker. Last time, we had met here where my parents and I lived, below Bri Leith’s hills. I’d forgotten whose turn it was next. Uncle Aengus at his stone keep in Bru Na Boinne? Uncle Bodb in Tir Na Nog’s capital, Tara? They bled together. Either way, they would strategize about how Father would earn the voting council’s favor so he could win the High King’s seat. Perhaps this time their questions about my spying on Riona through spending time with Maya might be minimal.

You’re late, but why should I be surprised? Father stood in front of his mirror dressed in golden finery with his ever-present sword at his belt. Both his hands were clasped behind his cloak. You’ve always taken more after Aengus than me.

You’re too early for everything. I stopped next to him.

What kept you? Father asked.

Maya visited while I was putting my hair together.

What did she say?

I’d rather keep you in suspense until the meeting. I crossed my arms. Speaking of which, I’m here. What are we waiting for?

Our host. The shadow of a smile played on Father’s grim mouth for a moment.

They should already be there, shouldn’t they? I bounced on the balls of my feet. Bodb would scold me for not having anything new to tell. The quicker his tongue lashing ended, the better. We should get on with it.

Patience, boy, Father said. You can afford to wait a few moments for manners’ sake.

Isn’t making guests wait the sign of a poor host?

Forgive me if my hospitality suffers because I must ready your mother and myself. Aunt Brigid’s steady footfalls came from behind us. Her reflection joined ours in the mirror. I glanced over my shoulder, and found my much shorter mother at her side.

Mother wore her most extravagant violet gown with gold trim, and someone had brushed her hair to a rose-gold sheen. Her cheeks had grown more sunken, though. Had she been refusing her meals again? Aunt Brigid’s bare arms displayed new scratches, and Mother’s nails sported fresh blood under them. Persuading her to come must not have gone well. Mother still held her chin as high as any queen. Her eyes were clear of the usual fog Aunt Brigid kept over her. She was herself.

We won’t be long, Etain, Brigid said as she held the small of Mother’s back and looked to Father. She drew her eyebrows together and her pupils thinned to uncertain slits. Are you sure about this? I can do what I’ve done for the other meetings and participate from Etain’s chamber through a mirror. Her condition has only worsened since Riona’s confrontation. She’s bound to be difficult at best and unpredictable at worst.

I’ve tolerated this imprisonment long enough, Mother said, haughty and proud. My cooperation has limits.

Wait, we’re going to Cill Dara? How could we hold the meeting at Aunt Brigid’s home if she had to care for Mother? I searched between Father and Brigid for an explanation. And Mother is coming?

Yes to all. Father swiped his hand across his mirror and the edges of its frame lit up gold. He stepped through.

This meeting might not be as uneventful as I expected. What was Father planning?

Aunt Brigid held the gathering in the uppermost chamber of her fortress of winding oaks suspended in an eternal autumn. Cill Dara’s open canopy of red, orange, and yellow leaves swayed as soft breezes wafted through my aunt’s airy chamber. Bark lifted and reshaped itself into chairs as each member of the family sat. Mother took the seat to the left of Aunt Brigid, while Bodb took his place at her right as the guest of honor. Father, Aengus, and I filled in the other positions within the circle.

The talk began with a discussion of the general climate of Tir Na Nog in light of Riona’s recent announcement that she would campaign for Bodb’s seat. Uncle Aengus, representing Midhe, and Aunt Brigid, representing Laigan, already promised their votes to Father, putting him at an early advantage. The contest would be decided by the other three provinces of the reigning council from there. So far, the Queens of the South in Mumhan, Aine and Cliona, backed Bodb. Manannan and his puppet-monarch son, Ilbrec, in Uliad to the north, remained loyal. If their stances didn’t change, that would earn Father two more votes. King Finvarra to the west in Connacht was the most obvious council member who might throw his vote in Riona’s favor. While our family, the Dagda’s Brood, were direct descendants of the Dagda’s legendary line, Finvarra was a distant cousin who claimed the relation after he rose to power. His resentment of us made him a common dissident. All things still seemed to work in Father’s favor, as if Riona didn’t pose a threat.

There is not much left of the election, and there are no signs of unrest, Brigid argued. Leave Riona to play. If she meant to undermine us for the sake of it, she’d have done a much better job.

We can’t leave this to fester. Had you lot left me to deal with her myself, none of this would have happened, Bodb spoke up, throwing a pointed glare at my aunt.

Dallying with our niece for centuries in a forbidden union, then torturing her when she tried to free herself of it, is not how you deal with someone. Tongues of fire rose from Aunt Brigid’s hair as she glowered back.

Nonetheless, she could still sabotage us, Bodb said.

She wouldn’t pose as much a danger if you had left her alone, Brigid snapped back. Don’t think you had no fault in this.

Mind your tongue. Bodb slammed his fist into the arm of his chair, and the wood shattered under the force. I am still your liege. This harassment makes you as bad a host as your Fomor-loving, traitorous late husband.

Aunt Brigid’s entire aura glowed red-hot.

Why must you two be so feisty? Aengus reclined into his chair, propping his legs on one arm and his back on the other. Save your bickering for if the Lady of Irons incites civil war.

Father had fallen quiet throughout the meeting. He rubbed the grip of his sword and watched Mother.

Mother continued to meet his gaze with an impervious one of her own. Her hands choked each other in her lap as she held herself in such tight restraint. Some of the tics that came with her forgetful spells or personality shifts slipped through: sudden jerks of her shoulders or parts of her face spasming. I’d only ever seen her more headstrong side after her mind started to become off balance. She slipped into a younger persona, without the knowledge and burden of her advanced age.

Don’t you have anything to contribute, my heir? Bodb asked Father as he rubbed a lock of his beard. I see an idea brewing in you.

Father’s irises had been like swirling pools of molten gold. He blinked, and his eyes stilled. I can see only one solution to our cause, he began. If Riona has made the election a true competition, then I must treat it as such. It’s like a game. I must win by proving I am the better player. Let Aengus and Daire serve as my saboteurs while I show Tir Na Nog their new High King, outside the confines of Bri Leith.

Mother’s nails drew blood against her knuckles. Her facade cracked as she mused over Father. Had he caught her attention?

Brigid, Aengus, and Bodb addressed Father with blank expressions.

Father’s cheeks gained a pink tint, and his old injury made his right eye twitch out of place. That only happened when someone caught him off guard. His glamour intensified, concealing the tic as he leaned forward in his seat. You object?

You don’t remember before the final war with the Fomor? Aunt Brigid winced. The last time you tried to navigate politics, it devolved into a skirmish.

Then there was the time you tried to negotiate with me for the crimes of your errant sons. Our peace talks turned to a battle, Bodb added.

So that’s the other reason why you sent me to ask for Etain’s hand, Aengus said with a snicker. You wouldn’t get through talking without attacking her father for it.

That’s enough. I realize I’m a man of action more than words. Father got the same ghost of a grin as before when I asked about where the meeting was to take place. He glanced across the circle at Mother. That’s why I’ll bring someone who knows better how to navigate a leader’s heart without violence. Etain?

Wha— Mother blinked and gripped her chest. She took a moment to swallow as she set her hand back in her lap. Excuse me, m’lord?

This gesture is sweet, but I am more than capable of managing my lands while caring for her, Brigid said as she looked between them both with matronly concern.

I wasn’t being insincere or generous, sweet sister. Midir shook his head at Brigid. I meant every word. Etain knows courtly subtlety and manners, and she has always excelled at the art of manipulation.

My throat went dry. How should I respond to such a shocking proposal? I was so accustomed to him being dead set that my mother stay isolated for her own safety, for everyone else’s safety. Why the sudden change of tact?

Her condition— Brigid started.

—is something I can handle. Father glanced to my mother. Dear heart, would you be willing to aid me in winning the favor of our ruling council?

If I am as adept as you say, m’lord, I would be a fool not to ask for something in return. Mother tilted her head to one side at an angle that showed off the best view of her slender neck.

Your freedom. Midir held her gaze, steady and sure. So long as you don’t hurt yourself or others, you may roam wherever you like at your leisure. I do reserve the right to set certain protections so harm doesn’t come to you. But, should you find a way out of Tir Na Nog, I will not stop you from taking it.

Mother stopped breathing for a moment and went rigid. He dangled the base desire she always remembered. She examined Father like a suspicious hound would a thick cut of pork, unsure if it he would snatch the chance away.

Let me be blunt, Uncle Bodb said, slicing through the uneasy tension that had formed between Father and the rest of our family. If you take Etain to the other provinces, she will be vulnerable. Even if you were to bring your entire household with you and the few trusted guards you have left, she could fly into a fit at any time and get past someone. A skilled assassin could slip by your entourage. Any number of dangers could snare her and bring you to your knees. We saw this happen when Riona managed to snatch her. And the edicts that keep us from slaying each other do not cover Etain because of her human blood. Not only that, but it will leave Daire vulnerable without anyone to watch over him in Bri Leith. This is a ridiculous idea. I will not have it!

Very well, I will also be blunt. Father narrowed his eyes at Bodb. You decided to step down from your seat and appoint me your successor. Can you undo what you have started? Are you willing?

"It’s for the good of all that someone else take the High King’s