. 06

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Author's note

Part Nine concludes the portion of the series set in Spring. It is not necessary for you to have read the first six parts of the story, but this may be hard to follow if you haven't read Parts Seven and Eight. Part Ten will take us to Winter, and pull all the previous threads together.

This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, many chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex.

All sexual acts are consensual and involve parties who are at least eighteen years of age.

As ever, if you have questions feel free to email me or leave a comment. I'll try to respond promptly.

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The first surprise of the day was that his sister was pregnant. But when Cahill thought about why his mother had asked him to put another child in her just a few nights ago, it only made sense that once Brittany had decided she was ready to open up to Finnegan again, she'd also want to take her mind off death by creating life.

He hadn't been entirely sure at first. It usually took a few days after conception before the presence was unmistakeable. Aeife hadn't noticed that Caronwyn was with child again until last night, for example. But there were only so many reasons for a Libido to look that deflated. Of course, it was possible that their cousin had truly rocked her world, and done so all night long. If she'd spent all her energy performing some epic glamour, that too would have accounted for it. But the smile on his sister's face, and the way she kept touching her stomach as if expecting to feel something other than nicely toned abs, left little doubt in Cahill's mind that he'd soon welcome another niece or nephew into the world.

The second surprise, arriving late in the afternoon, came when his mother and grandmother returned from what had been announced as a trip to the kitchen with

their

Libidos completely deflated. It was hard to imagine that meaning what it did with Brittany, not least because Caronwyn already had one in the oven. But when he saw who trailed behind them, he immediately understood where all their energy had gone.

And that was the third surprise. The

big

one.

Fiona was alive.

She hadn't quite passed through the door before Seamus swept her up in his arms. One moment, he'd been pretending to be a fearsome dragon that brave Ser Aengus had to slay, and the next he'd wedged himself in between his sister and his grandmother, arms wrapped so tightly around the former that her eyes looked like they just might pop out.

He wanted desperately to go to her. But he figured Seamus deserved some time to welcome her back without Cahill hovering over his shoulder. After all, if the tables were turned, his brother would extend him the same courtesy.

And Cori,now happily wearing her true face again, was next in line at any rate. The daughter Fi had given him didn't bowl anyone over on her way to her mother, the way other girls her age might have, but that was only because she was too used to hoping no one ever noticed her existence. As she stood there, bouncing on her heels, waiting for Seamus to take his lips off Fiona and let her breathe again, the girl looked she just might explode.

"Is that who I think it is?" Wynne asked, abandoning the game of poker she'd been pretending to care about. She got up from her seat at the marble table and pressed a hand gently to Cahill's back. "How is that possible?"

Uaid had yet to lay his hand down. After a few incredibly bad beats early on, when Cahill had probably gotten a little too actively involved in helping his daughter put up some competition, the boy was slowly starting to whittle away at his sister's lead. Now it appeared he'd never get the chance to finish doing so.

But it wasn't that he was wrapped up in the game, Cahill realized. The reason his son still clutched his cards like that was because he'd lost control of his motor functions. That same expression, eyes wide and mouth agape, had been on his face for nearly a minute.

"Dad?" Wynne asked, reminding him that she'd asked a question.

"Magic," he said.

He couldn't take his eyes of his older sister. For someone who'd been no more than a pile of ashes that morning, she looked damn good. Waves of green shimmered through her brown hair as the sunlight shone upon it, and she wore that green dress she loved so much. The one that barely covered her lovely bottom.

"I figured

that

," his daughter said.

"I didn't think it was," Cahill elaborated. "I guess that just goes to show that you should never underestimate your mother."

"That's a stupid phrase," Uaid remarked, pulling out of his trance. The little storyteller fancied himself a wordsmith as well, and correcting people for saying things that were perfectly clear but not perfectly grammatical was a hobby of his. "You should never underestimate anyone. It's a mistake more or less by definition."

Cahill laughed. "Okay. You'd be hard pressed to ever

over

estimate her abilities. That pass muster?" he asked. It was tempting to ask if the new phrasing passed "mustard" instead, just to see Uaid go apoplectic, but he restrained himself.

His son gave a nod of approval.

Cahill's mind had already drifted back to Wynne's question anyway. More specifically, his inability to answer said question satisfactorily, even setting aside semantic issues.

In a sense, it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before. But when his brother had risen from the dead before his very eyes, his corpse had been fresh. And nowhere near as damaged. He'd suffered a terrible blow, yes. The sort even Aeife might not survive, though she apparently found having a lower half of one's body to be a mere luxury. But there'd been plenty left for Titania to work with. Fiona's body, on the other hand, had been...well, it hadn't

been

.

His mother hadn't repaired the irreparable. She'd created a new Fiona, out of nothing.

He wondered if that meant she'd be different. No recorded music ever sounded

exactly

like the original, after all. No matter how good the equipment involved. No matter whether you were talking vinyl or the inferior compact disc. Something was always lost in the process.

Perhaps the child of his growing that had been growing inside her womb?

Their mother hadn't known Fiona was pregnant. At least, he didn't think she had. Granted, he hadn't thought Brittany had either, but by her own account that was because the two of them had been especially close. Supposing his mother had known, though, would it even be possible to recreate a life so young? So unformed? One that hadn't yet left an indelible imprint in her mind by way of a lifetime's worth of memories?

"You think she'll be able to bring Uncle Gallech back too?" Wynne asked.

That was a good question. He hadn't even considered that.

"I don't see why not," he said. Oona too.

What did Titania have that they didn't have? What reason was there to fear the Queen of Faerie in the least? To play by her rules? To take part in her stupid Hunt?

His mother had essentially granted them their independence.

Well, that might be going too far. Even if they could bring their loved ones back effortlessly, and he didn't know whether it had been easy or done only at some terrible price, that didn't mean Titania couldn't make them suffer. Quite horribly. They couldn't afford to adopt a cavalier attitude towards the queens punishments and reprisals.

But things

had

changed. They'd not play the same old tune anymore.

"That's big, right?" his daughter asked, almost as if she'd read his mind. "That is, this means more than making the clan whole again, right?"

"Yeah," Cahill agreed.

"Wow," Uaid said, putting that prodigious vocabulary of his to good use.

"Yeah," Cahill said to that too. Because sometimes ten cent words just weren't necessary.

He tried to work out the implications of what his mother and grandmother had done while he waited for his turn to welcome his sister back to life. And failed. It was too much to think about, and all he really wanted to do was shower Fi with kisses.

Lots and lots of them. Maybe even in appropriate places.

"Mister horned god," she said when he finally approached her, smiling the sort of smile that stopped hearts cold. She stretched her arms out, inviting a hug, and he felt his sister's Libido pull at him in ways that made life worth living.

He gave her what she'd asked for. Not the kind of hug that cracked ribs, as her other brother had, but one that made sure she knew how much she'd been missed.

"Mmm," she moaned. "Could almost think I was gone for a long time."

Cahill laughed. "None of us thought we'd ever see you again."

She gave him a smile that let him know she was perfectly aware of that. That he'd taken her words a bit too literally. Realizing his mistake, he blushed.

In his defense, holding her in his arms again made it hard to think clearly.

On some level, he was aware that Caronwyn and Aeife were still standing right there, smiling as they bore witness to the heartfelt reunions they'd made possible. That Seamus had gone to tell Kegan and Aileen that their mother was alive. That the little welcome back party hadn't yet made it off the patio and onto the grass. But those things were almost as far back in his head as his knowledge of the music scales or myths and fairy tales.

Damn, she smelled good. Felt good, pressed up against him like that.

"Whoa there," his sister said. "Time enough for that later."

"Sorry," he said, easing his grip.

Despite her words, though, Fiona was smiling. She even reached down and gave the tip of his mostly hard cock a playful tap. "It's alright. I'll take it as a compliment."

"Not too much of one," Aeife said. "Takes precious little to get him going."

"Stop," Caronwyn said, shoving an elbow at her mother's ribs, though not too forcefully.

Cahill would have liked to think that was for his benefit, but the look on her face made it clear that it wasn't. It was Fiona she was looking out for, if the playful gesture could even be called that. Which he supposed was okay anyway.

It wasn't like his grandmother was

wrong

either.

Pretending they hadn't even be interrupted, he leaned down and kissed his sister's forehead. Then her beautiful, indecisive hair. One more for good measure.

Her hands roamed over his chest, sending gentle waves of pleasure through him. For a moment, he almost thought she might change her mind about waiting until later. But then Seamus returned with their two kids and Cahill stepped away from her suddenly. Guiltily. As though they'd been kissing and touching in much bolder ways.

"Come here, you," his mother said, pulling him away.

"How did you do it?" he asked, peeling his eyes away from Fiona for the first time since she'd appeared. Though not for long. Just enough to make brief eye contact with his mother. "And, more importantly, can you do it again?"

"That's what guys

always

say after the first time, isn't it?" Aeife remarked.

Caronwyn gave her a flat look. The sort mothers gave their children, rather than the other way around. That still made Cahill's head spin, every now and then.

"I think so, yes," she eventually said to Cahill. "Not right away. We're going to need some time to build our strength back up. But after that, we're certainly going to try."

He stared at her, shaking his head in mild disbelief.

"Mmm. There it is," she said. "Go ahead. Say it."

"You're a goddess."

She went up on tiptoes and kissed him on the lips.

"Get. A. Room," Aeife said. "And give me a key," she then added, grinning impishly.

"Grow up," Caronwyn said, though she wasn't doing a great job of hiding her own grin.

"But seriously," the older woman began, using a serious tone that her high-pitched voice of was surprisingly capable of delivering. "We need to talk about what comes next."

"Gallech first. Then Oona," Caronwyn said.

Made sense to Cahill. First in, last out. But that wasn't what his grandmother meant. He saw it on her face even before she shook her head. Felt it in her nearly empty Libido.

"Do we take Savannah back to the Dreaming once the clan's whole again?"

Time slowed. He tried to process her words. To convince himself that she had indeed suggested putting themselves within reach of Titania's rainbow claws. The very opposite of declaring their independence. He tried, but he didn't do so well.

"Why would we do that?" his mother asked.

"Because it would piss her off," Aeife said with a why else smile. "Royally. Pun intended."

She was right about that.

Caronwyn was unmollified. "And that's something we

want

to do?"

"Oh so very much," came the reply.

"Yeah," Cahill said. "It really is." His voice sounded like it came from somewhere else. Some

one

else. Someone who was tired of reacting.

His mother looked at him with sad eyes.

"Should we put it to a vote?" Aeife asked.

"Should I explain the concept of matriarchy to you?"

Cahill put a hand on the small of his mother's back. Her muscles were tight. He sent a bit of warmth traveling up her body. Nothing too powerful or manipulative. She'd know he did it, and it would only relax her if she was receptive to it. Which, it turned out, she was.

Aeife shrugged, as though she was no more invested in the outcome than she'd have been if they were discussing what to have for dinner. "You're right, of course. It's your decision."

The clan matriarch then turned to her son. Her hollow Libido gave no insight into what she was feeling. A full eyebrow arched upward as she silently asked, "And you?"

He kissed her on the mouth. She replied with a sigh.

"What do you suppose will happen if we do?" Caronwyn asked her mother.

"Morale will go up, for starters," Aeife replied casually. "I think we're all tired of living in fear. Hiding from the shadows. Not knowing what awaits us in our sleep."

"How will the queen react, though?" She flicked at the air with a finger, as if knocking down a king. "Concede? Try to force a draw? Pull a Maisie and knock the board over?"

Suddenly, Cahill remembered the reason Oberon was a former prince of Faerie. How Liadan had described the dissolution of the courts with precisely the same metaphor. "I think we all know the answer to that," he said, frowning.

"Point being?" Aeife asked. "Last time she threw a temper tantrum, her son left her. How many fits can she throw and expect the rest of her clan to remain by her side?"

"But does she need them? She's pretty dangerous all on her own," Cahill said, no longer sure which position he was defending. If any.

Apparently just as confused, Caronwyn said, "A mother without her children is nothing."

That led Cahill to an epiphany. "Leave that to me."

His mother raised her brows at him, but didn't press him when he held his tongue.

#

He found Liadan walking the Foothills of North Carolina. The woman who'd once been the Puck, the Lady of Mischief, Princess of Sapphire Court, looked every inch the nature enthusiast turned amateur photographer. She wore relatively loose-fitting jeans, a tank top, and hiking boots. A red bandana tied about her head held brown hair back from her lovely face. She held a digital camera in her hands, with which she was snapping pics of silverbells. It was through the lens that she saw him when he approached.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, without any trace of her distinctive accent. If anything, there was the slightest hint of a Southern drawl.

He could almost believe she'd spent her whole life within fifty miles of these hills. That everything he thought he knew about her was a lie. A misremembered dream. Except, of course, she'd have no idea who he was if that was the case.

"Forgot how charmin' ye can be," he said, imitating something she'd once said to him.

His aunt stood up straight and lowered her camera to her hip, apparently accepting that she wasn't going to get to take that shot. "The woman you're looking for no longer exists."

"You've been pretty busy around sunup and sundown for someone who's left it all behind," he said, remembering the carnage he'd seen when last he'd set foot in the Dreaming.

Her nostrils flared. "What do you want?"

Cahill put a hand on her hip. Not tentatively either. That would only encourage her to slap it away. As if it was something he did all the time. He stepped closer, forcing her to crane her neck to look up at him. The warmth of her body and the glow of her Libido made his cock stir. It didn't help that her bra squeezed her girls so tight or that her tank top put so much of that beautiful brown cleavage on display.

"Cahill," she said. He wasn't sure if was a protest or a plea.

Her voice sounded so strange. It had the same pitch, of course. Even deeper than Fiona's, though hardly masculine. Without the hodgepodge of Irish, Scouse, and whatever else, though, she didn't sound like herself.

Or the woman he'd once thought he once knew, anyway. Which he probably never had.

"I'm not here to make you answer for your mother's crimes," he said.

"Well that's a relief." Despite the sarcasm, he caught the tension fading from her body. The subtle retreat of her Libido walls as the energy within settled back down. "So, what? You just had to see me? After however long it's been in Savannah?"

He took her camera from her and tossed it aside. It shattered into a millions pieces, which faded away like smoke before they could hit the grass below.

"That wasn't very nice," Liadan said.

Cahill answered this with a kiss. One that packed quite a wallop.

He didn't bring her to climax. But he stopped just short. Her knees buckled and she'd have fallen if he didn't take firmer hold of her wonderfully proportioned body. The sounds she made as she sort of kissed him back were exquisite. A Libido he didn't remember being quite so powerful swelled, dipped, then swelled again. And again. It was like she was pausing to catch her breath, only in a metaphysical sense, and it was incredibly sexy.

"What are you...wow," she said, as she reached up to adjust her bandana.

He snickered. "Was that a question?"

Beings as powerful as she was, whose shenanigans had more or less brought about the collapse of Faerie, ought not be capable of looking so guileless. He could almost think he held an inexperienced college co-ed in his arms, rather than the Nightmare Beast.

Cahill's first inclination was chalk that up to his inestimable powers of seduction. A lifetime ago, many a young woman had swooned over him in that very manner. And in the years since, he'd only grown more irresistible. But the more powerful, more attractive, more well-endowed Cahill was also more mature. He regularly trucked with powerful glamours, yes, but he'd also seen the dead come back to life, and that hadn't been his handiwork. He knew that there were far greater forces out there than him. And if his aunt wasn't one of them, she'd at least brushed elbows with them often enough to know the difference.

It was not his looks, his kiss, or the thin streamer of energy he'd poured into her Libido that robbed her of the ability to fight gravity. Or not just those things.

His aunt had always behaved as though she thought him special. But, then, she'd done the same with Brittany. In the guise of her male pysch professor. Granted, he wasn't aware of any significant contact between his sister and Liadan since the former had awakened, but still. He'd be a fool to take her apparent interest in him at face value. Or so he'd thought.

Ever since their last encounter, he'd entertained the notion that her elaborate deception hadn't been so elaborate after all. But he'd had his doubts too. Enough of them that he hadn't tried to convince anyone that she was trustworthy, the way he often vouched for Oberon. For all that he'd

hoped

that she harbored true feelings for him, he'd never quite been sure whether the faith he put in her and her acorn charm might be misplaced.