Uncertainty

Uncertainty
Just for a moment, as she is being pulled into the ground, The Cailleach forgets who she is. She forgets she is the goddess of winter, that the terrain around is hers. For one moment, her circumstance overcomes her. Then that moment passes.

The ground around The Caileach freezes and the vines brown and crumble. A harsh wind lifts her from the hole. She glides across the newly refrozen ground towards Dian Cecht.Her arms pull the gale with her. When she reaches him, the gust renders the infant from his arms and knocks Dian Cecht to the ground. As soon as Dian Cecht loses his grip on the baby, the earth around him dies. He lands on solid ice.

The baby floats on the frigid current towards The Cailleach. She swaddles him in her cloak. Dian Cecht struggles to stand. The icy ground makes it difficult to regain his footing. He reaches towards The Cailleach, grasping a wisp of her skirt. His hands weave into the material, but she quickly shakes him and hurries towards the castle on the horizon.

Gripping a torn piece of The Cailleach’s clothes, Dian Cecht finally pulls himself to his feet. He clutches the fabric in his hand, cursing at the change of events. This is not how things are supposed to go. Is he not the good guy? Is he not trying to save the child?

Dian Cecht calls after The Cailleach, “Sister! Sister! Stop! Do not do this!” He pleads into the blustery air.

The Cailleach keeps going, ignoring his pleas. She gets closer to the castle and further from his view. He still begs. The wind carries his voice crisp and clear to her ears. “Sister! What do you plan to do with the child? You know he cannot be killed.” 

She smiles. Locked behind a wall of ice, the infant will no longer stand in her family’s way. Her lineage will be the heir to the Leprechaun throne. Ruling of the earthly realm will be within her grasp. Dian Cecht’s voice only spurs her on. Once the baby is in the castle, millenniums of suppression will be undone.

Then he says the words that stop her in her tracks. “Brigid is coming!” Dian Cecht yells over the moaning wind.

The words freeze her. Three simple words. She knows that this is inevitable. She knows eventually their sister, the goddess of fire and Spring, will eventually find out. Will eventually come for her. She thinks she has planned for this contingency. But hearing the words, hearing him speak her name, creates doubt.

She turns towards the advancing Dian Cecht. She whispers, “You lie.” The breathy words cradle the air. Their chill settles in his ears.

Soon, he is again a few steps away from her. He reaches his hand out to her. “Sister, did you really think Brigid is unaware of what you are doing? What you have planned?” He offers her a way out. “Give me the baby. Give him to me and she may forgive you.”

“You lie,” she repeats, with more conviction in her voice. 

“Can you really take that chance, Sister?” He moves closer to her. He gently touches her shoulder. Warmth spreads through her body. She can feel his healing powers. He uses them to persuade her, comfort her.

“She cannot know already, Brother.” She brushes his hand away, scowling at his attempt to persuade her.

“I am only trying to help you. Save you, Sister.” He extends his hand again.

“Since when have you ever had my best interest in mind?” She scoffs at him and pulls the baby closer to her.

“Since a rift between Brigid and you would cause great issue to all of us. You cannot take Brigid’s succession and expect there to be no consequences.” A stern look settles on his face.

“But my lineage would rule. Alroy’s son will be the heir to the Earthly throne, the Leprechaun King.” She declares with nervous certainty.

Dian Cecht smirks, “You truly discount Quinn, don’t you?” He steps back and looks down at the infant hidden in her smock.

“She is but a human. Alroy will conquer her.” Her words are steel.

“She is the descendant of Brigid.” He motions towards the child. “You saw what he can do and he is her child.”

“Those powers came from Ainmire, didn’t they?” She stares down at the infant. Could his strength really come from Quinn?

“Did you not see the burn marks on the floor of the nursery?” Dian Cecht asks.

“The baby did those?” She looks at Dian Cecht, question in her eyes.

“No, the baby did not do those, dear Sister.” He closes his eyes. “His mother may not know how to control her gifts, but she can use them.”

The Cailleach flinches and falters. Could Alroy possibly fail? Could she have put him in danger? Fire control, fire starting is a rare power. How could someone as human as Quinn have it.

“You look troubled, Sister.” False concern peppers Dian Cecht’s words.

Again, she whispers, “You lie.” She holds onto any hope that Dian Cecht, a master manipulator, is just trying to deceive her. Trick her into giving him the infant.

“Take your chances, Sister.” He turns away from her, heading toward the woody terrain at the edge of The Cailleach’s realm. He looks over his shoulder, “Once Brigid is here, I cannot help you.” He plods through the snow.

She watches him. Terror and hesitancy cause her to waver in her conviction. Clutching the baby tightly, she wonders what Brigid would do when she finds her. What if she was here now, seeing her with the baby? Her sister is forgiving? She is the goddess of Spring, of renewal. 

As the thoughts of her sister’s tenderness begin to comfort her, a new thought intrudes. Brigid is also the goddess of fire, of passion. Would she burn The Cailleach’s world down just to avenge her family?

With that thought, a delicate, simple word escapes The Cailleach’s lips. “Wait!”