Henry Neff - The Maelstrom

“Did you come here to talk about soccer?” prodded Max.

Shaking her head, she took the lantern from his hand and made for a path that wound along the woods. Max fell into step beside her.

“I—I came to say that I’m sorry,” she said. “I want to apologize for my behavior when I last saw you. I said some awful things … inexcusable things.”

“Please don’t worry about that,” said Max gently. “I deserved it, and I know you didn’t really mean them.”

“I appreciate that,” she murmured. “I also wanted to say goodbye.”

“Where are you going?”

“Glenharrow,” she answered. “Tonight. Thomas and his family are coming with us. It’s too dangerous for us to remain here with my little brother. And my parents aren’t soldiers, Max. They’re too frightened to stay, and they need me to protect them.”

“I understand,” said Max. “Glenharrow sounds like a good choice. Nigel sent his family there this morning.”

“At least I’ll know someone,” she sighed. “How are things with your troops? Everyone’s talking about Max McDaniels and his Trench Rats.”

“They’re coming along,” he said. “A work in progress.”

“I was proud when I’d heard you signed up with them.” Her voice choked with emotion. “Those people have had a hard go of it. They need someone like you, something bright on their side.”

She stopped and gazed up at the stars, shining far above.

“When I was six, my grandmother told me a tale about a maiden who was courted by both the Aurora and the Polestar and had to choose between them,” she recalled softly. “The Polestar was constant; every evening she could find him in the night sky, twinkling at her from the very same spot. Plain, but predictable. But the Aurora was simply spellbinding , a swirl of mysterious lights and mists that made her ache with longing. Utterly smitten, the maiden spurned the Polestar and chose the Aurora.”

“And did she choose wisely?” asked Max.

“Of course not,” said Julie. “While the Aurora was beautiful and glamorous, he was inconstant. Unlike the Polestar, the Aurora never stayed for long—he was wont to disappear and the maiden could never be certain if and when he would return. Eventually she withered away from loneliness, forever staring into the heavens and hoping the Aurora would return.”

With a teary smile, Julie took his hand.

“I’ll never forget the day I fell in love with you,” she said. “It was during that very soccer match. You were like a god, so swift and dashing—almost radiant. When I looked at you … it was like fingers running through my soul. But something in you changed after you went off to the Sidh. Something had awakened, something grand and terrible and far too great for little Julie Teller. And when your father died … well, I knew I’d lost you forever.”

Max began to speak, but Julie squeezed his hand.

“I won’t be that girl in the story,” she insisted. “Thomas is not a hero, Max, but he’s smart and kind and constant. I’m the most important thing in his life and always know just where I stand. I’ve come to learn that there’s real value in that—a value greater than any infatuation.”

“Thomas is a very lucky guy,” said Max. “I suspect he knows it.”

“He does,” she said, fumbling for a handkerchief. “He knows I’m here with you. He encouraged it, told me I should say my piece and put things to rest. I guess I’ve done that.”

“I guess you have,” said Max, hugging her. “I wish you both all the joy and happiness in the world.”

She thanked him, staring up into his face and wiping away her tears. “Did you ever love me?” she wondered.

“I think I did,” said Max. “At the very least, I wanted to.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “I was never sure. I was always afraid that you’d fallen in love in the Sidh. With the girl who gave you this.”

With her finger, she traced the thin white line that ran from Max’s cheek to his chin.

“Why do you say that?”

Standing on her tiptoes, Julie kissed his cheek and held him close. “Because young lovers are foolish,” she whispered. “They always go for the ones who hurt them.”

Releasing him, she placed the lantern back in his hand and backed away. For a second or two, she gazed at him, as though trying to fix the moment in her mind. And then, with a farewell wave, Julie Teller turned and strode briskly up the path. Moments later she was gone.

Max returned to his command tent, setting the lantern upon the desk and sitting at his chair. He was flooded with conflicting thoughts and emotions: regrets, grief, and a sincere hope that Julie would find happiness. He reflected on what she had to say, her thoughts on love and her intuition regarding Scathach.

Max wondered if she realized the irony of her tale. While Max might have been Julie’s Aurora, Scathach was his. The warrior maiden lived in the Sidh and Max lived here: in this tent, this time, this world.

When he’d left Lugh’s castle at Rodrubân, Scathach had given Max an ivory brooch and a reminder to remember that he was the son of a king. Unclasping it from his cloak, Max studied the object, tracing his finger over the image of a Celtic sun and the curving arcs of its rays.

An hour passed, maybe two with Max sitting quietly and musing on his life. His thoughts were not only of Julie and Scathach, but also of his parents and Nick, the many people whose lives had intersected his and were no more. His mind had drifted far away when something abruptly brought it back.

The tent flap had rippled open. Max caught the movement from the corner of his eye, a slight but undeniable disturbance as though a breeze had brushed the canvas apart. Normally, he’d have paid this little mind, but tonight the wind was in the west. Casually, he set the brooch down upon the desk. A second later, his worst suspicions were confirmed.

Max’s ring was scalding hot.

As the ring blistered his finger, Max focused on the strewn cushions. Even now, one of them moved, as though brushed aside by something circling the tent’s perimeter. Reaching slowly for the gae bolga , Max heard a throaty gurgle that made his hair stand on end. The sound reminded him of his clone, the grinning, emaciated assassin he’d last seen buried beneath a mountain of rubble.

Had the clones survived?

There was no time to wonder. With a snarl, the invisible intruder attacked. But even as Max drew his sword, he sensed another presence behind him. He ducked, twisting away just as a sharp blade sheared across his throat. At the same instant, something slammed into his shoulder, knocking him over the desk. He fell heavily to the ground, losing his grip on his sword just as the entire tent went black. A heavy boot kicked him squarely on the chin. Dazed, he fell back, only dimly aware that a wild animal was atop him. It felt like a vye, huge and matted, its claws scratching his limbs as it growled and scrambled for position.

There was a shout as someone else rushed into the tent. The animal rolled off of Max, snarling like a rabid dog as the clash of steel rang in Max’s ears. Blood was gushing from his wound and he sensed a powerful poison already at work. Disoriented, he gazed helplessly about, unable to see anything until an arc of brilliant light suddenly tore through the darkness. Sparks flew as it struck something metallic. There was a gasp, staggering footsteps, and Max heard the growling animal rush past him. A furious din ensued of snapping teeth and tearing fabric until at last Max heard the grisly sound of hard metal striking soft flesh. A sharp yelp gave way to a whimper. A voice spoke in the blackness.