Chapter 14

Ch. 14: Julian

"It goes back to the origins of the Fae-Wolf Conflict, really," Halloran begins, relaxing into the sofa cushions as the painkillers Chloe had given him kick in. "You'll need a bit of history there as well, I suppose."

I glance at Dane, who watches Halloran with a masked expression. He'd given me the basic overview, and I knew his mother had played a crucial role in bringing the war to an end, but he hadn't covered the finer details.

"Like I said," Halloran continues, "there are thin places all over the world, but some make more suitable portals than others. A few, like the one here in Spring Lakes, are especially well situated, with a strong alignment between realms. Such places are rare and held as sacred by the Fae. Many human cultures hold them sacred as well, sensing the power that bleeds through. Over the last few centuries, wars, invasions, colonization, and 'development' have led to the loss of many, making those that remain more valuable still."

"Valuable how?" Ingrid asks. "And what's it got to do with Wolves?"

Halloran lifts his brows at her. "The land, of course. Haven't you wondered why Spring Lakes is such a magnet for all things strange and wonderful? Why those with unusual gifts seem drawn here as moths to a flame? It's the thin place — or rather, the power that bleeds through to saturate and bless the land. Shifters and Wolves can sense it, and though they may not know it, many Wolf territories overlap with thin places such as this."

"What about Faerie?" I ask. "Does this side... 'bleed through,' as well?"

Halloran nods. "Your human scientists would say that there are certain laws that govern the physical world, correct? Thermodynamics, gravity, the speed of light, and so forth. It's more or less the same across dimensions, with slight variations. In Faerie, things are possible that are impossible here, and vice versa. What you would call 'magic' is merely a type of energy we are able to harness and use. It's hardly detectable here, but in Faerie it's much more a part of the fabric of reality. Likewise, there are 'energies' here that are scarce on the other side."

"So... this world has something Faerie doesn't?"

Halloran nods. "The Fae realm is brimming with life. There are equivalents for most of the flora and fauna you find here, and then a whole extra dimension of things you can hardly imagine: forests of moss-clad trees with mushrooms that glow beneath the stars, and uncanny beasts of all sizes and sorts. And yet, Fae children are rare."

"Why?" Chloe asks, leaning forward in her seat, a cup of tea cradled in her hands.

"Well," Halloran says slowly, "Some consider it a blasphemous notion, but more than likely it's because we Fae originated here, in this world, long ago. It would explain our ability to have children with humans, and why we are physiologically more or less the same. Whatever the case, it seems there is something in this world that we need, so we often come here to... 'conceive,' with either a Fae or human partner."

"My grandmother used to tell stories about changelings," Chloe says, her blue eyes wide with fascination. "She said that children born in Faerie often 'weak and sickly,' so the Fae would bring them here and trade them for a human child."

Halloran nods. "A legend grossly distorted by time, but essentially true. It seems the problem has deep roots, but has grown worse in recent centuries, as our worlds increasingly diverge. Ironically, as thin places grow scarce, the more essential they become."

Dane nods. "And scarcity triggers conflict. Tale as old as time."

"Wolves and Shifters saw the Fae as intruders from another world; Fae saw Wolves and their like as trespassers on sacred ground. The truth of how it started, and of who started it, has been lost to time," Halloran says, shifting in his seat. "Some say it was a misunderstanding or an accident; others say it was purposeful, but however it started, it wasn't long before Wolves and Fae were 'natural' enemies, and a war was in full swing. Fae assassins slipped into this world and slew troublesome alphas; Wolves figured out how to open the doorway themselves and sent raiding parties into Faerie. Before long, neither side needed an excuse to kill the other. Such was the situation when my sister first came to Spring lakes."

Halloran pauses while Chloe refills his cup and takes a long drink before continuing in a quiet, matter-of-fact voice.

"Around the middle of the last century, when the Conflict was at its height, certain Fae factions came to believe they had found the solution to our problems: a permanent link between realms. With a perpetually open portal, each realm would bleed into the other freely, until reaching a state of equilibrium. Others believed a 'permanent portal' was simply a nice way of saying 'tear in the fabric of reality,' and said it would trigger cataclysms on both sides."

"Sounds dangerous," Dane comments, "and difficult, I'm guessing."

Halloran nods and takes a breath before answering.

"To open such a portal — to create a rift — required more than the usual sort of magic: the sort of magic only certain Fae possess."

He looks up and meets my eyes, then goes on in a strangely tangential vein.

"Did you know that purple eyes are rare among Fae?" he asks.

"Can't say I've met enough Fae to notice," I say.

"When I learned of you, I was surprised, but it didn't really sink in until I saw you at the funeral. My sister and I are twins, you see — Rian and Rhiannon — but only she was born with the gift, or the curse, of the leannan sidhe. It runs in our family, and violet irises are one mark of it. Our mother, Eirnín, has it, as did your father, I believe. I knew instantly when I saw you that you bear it as well."

I clear my throat. "If it was Rhiannon who attacked us in the tunnels, she..." I glance at Dane. So far, I'd conveniently left out the part about almost getting murdered by my own grandmother. "She might have killed me, but she stopped. She seemed to recognize me."

Halloran nods. "If I'm right, she had no idea you existed until today. Given the strong family resemblance, I imagine it was something of a shock."

"Alright, so we got the history lesson and the family connection," Dane growls. "Now, how do the two relate?"

Halloran takes his time answering, as if putting his thoughts in order before he speaks.

"Leannan Sidhe are gifted and cursed with a nature that will grant their lover's heart's desire," he says. "Naturally, getting what one wants most in the world is often not as beneficial as one hopes, and tales of such trysts often end in tragedy."

I glance at Dane and see my troubled thoughts reflected in his eyes.

"The idea was for a leannan sidhe to take a human lover," Halloran continues, "to convince that lover that the portal was what he or she wanted most in the world, and then to grant that wish. This would cost the Fae his or her life, but the power of that sacrifice would be enough to create a rift between realms. The cost was steep; but what is one life, after all, against the survival of an entire race? And so, as one of the few leannan sidhe, and one of even fewer who shared this conviction, Rhiannon volunteered. She was tired of the violence and the seemingly endless war of attrition between Wolves and Fae. She wanted an end to it."

"So she came here?" I ask.

Halloran nods. "Around the year 1960, she came through the portal at the standing stones, took up a life here, and began her search for a 'mate.' With her looks and charms, she had the pick of the field, but the man who eventually caught her eye was James Hart. He seemed perfect, at first: simple and good-hearted, and easily convinced that Rhiannon's desires were his own. Unfortunately, my sister quickly realized her mistake."

"Mistake?" Ingrid asks, her eyes wide with rapt attention. "Was he bad?"

"No," Halloran smiles. "Not bad. Better than she'd thought. She fell in love with him, and his heart's desire had nothing to do with Faerie doorways or promises of immortality. All he wanted was a simple, happy life with her, right here. And because it was her nature to do so, she granted his wish; and within a year they were blessed with a child, whom they called David."

"And they lived happily ever after?" I venture hopefully, though I know they did not. I didn't know much about my father's childhood, except he'd been raised by an aunt.

"I'm afraid not," Halloran says with a sad smile. "The war was on, and — though no record of them remains — there were Wolves in Spring Lakes, then. Somehow or other, they got word of a Fae living in their midst, and set out to rectify the matter. Rhiannon wasn't home when they attacked — fortunately she was out with the baby — but James was. When she returned..."

Dane blows out a breath. "I'm guessing it didn't end well for the Wolves, either."

Halloran shakes his head. "No, indeed. Rhiannon went mad with grief. Leaving her infant son in the care of his human relatives, she set out for vengeance, and slaughtered every Wolf in the pack — young and old alike."

"Full-on Anakin Skywalker, huh?" Grace says.

I don't expect the Fae great-uncle I never knew I had to get the reference, but in keeping with the day's weirdness, he merely lifts a brow and nods.

"More or less. Furthermore, this turn of events did not please the Fae nearly so much as it might have in years past. The whole 'permanent portal' idea was far from officially sanctioned — closer to a rogue 'black op' than anything else. Meanwhile, the Summer Court was very close to establishing a treaty of peace, thanks in no small part to a certain young alpha named Astrid Hunter."

Ingrid startles and Dane goes still.

"My mother?" he asks.

Halloran nods. "She was a 'guest' of the Summer Queen at the time. Rhiannon's actions severely jeopardized the negotiations, and to mollify the Wolves, the Queen banished her to the 'underworld' and told everyone she'd been killed." Halloran draws a breath and looks at me. "Which brings us to the present, more or less. When I learned that something — or someone — had come through from that realm here, of all places, I wondered if it might be her. Part of me hoped it was; part of me hoped she'd died long ago."

He sighs and turns to Dane.

"You see, before she was banished, something convinced her that she'd made a terrible mistake — that the Wolves had nothing to do with James's death. Instead, she talked of Shifters, and of some shadowy third party with interests of its own, who had staged the scene to make it seem as if the Wolves were to blame. No one believed her, but given what happened to her son, and what nearly happened to Julian last year... Well, now I'm not so sure."

"You mean...?"

Halloran nods. "If Rhiannon knows, or thinks she knows, who killed James, she'll be targeting them or — more than likely, after all this time — their descendants."

I look at Chloe. While new to the area herself, her father's family have lived here for several generations, and her father might not have been the first to attempt to use Wolves and Fae for his own ends. She probably doesn't know all the darker family legends, but her cousin might.

Ian grew up right here in Spring Lakes, after all, in this very house.

"Shit." I lean back in my seat and shut my eyes as an unpleasant thought enters my brain.

"Julian? You okay?" Dane asks, resting a hand on my upper arm.

"Yeah." I don't hate Ian nearly as much as once did, and I certainly don't want him to end up on my grandmother's hit list, but he's still not among my favorite people in the world. "I just realized I'm gonna have to talk to my ex, is all."