“And you and Aodhan?” I countered.
She wandered toward the pool and dipped her fingers into the clear water, creating concentric circles, her reflection rippling out in infinite waves. “Perhaps. You know as well as I do love is difficult after certain…experiences.”
“You’re afraid.” I said it, not as an accusation, but as one former prisoner to another. We both had cages we rattled against.
“I’ve been afraid. But not anymore. And that is why I need to fight. Because it may be the last thing I do on this Earth, and perhaps someday, others might be free.”
I sat down beside her, staring into the pool. The Fae believed anyone who drank from it would develop lycanthropy, but so far that hadn’t happened after we swam or waded in it. I wondered if our kids would come out as wolves.
I grasped at my belly. Kids. When was my previous depo shot? Jesus, the last time I traveled across into the mortal realm, I beamed myself up into a Planned Parenthood, leather armor and all, and had them poke that anti-baby juice into my butt. The Faerie Realm had many treasures, but free and accessible reproductive health care for women wasn’t one of them. My memory was hazy with time traveling and all. I would need to go again soon. I let out a snort. But why? No one was getting laid around here.
“I need to get ready,” Una said, interrupting my thoughts. “I won’t tell Aodhan what you have planned, but I need to see him. One last time.”
I placed a hand on her shoulder. “It won’t be the last.”
“Una!” a female voice shrieked.
Across from the pool stood Máirtín and Regina. Regina’s face appeared stark white, and Máirtín gripped her hand, pulling her away from the water. She slipped his grasp and, tearing off her pistol, dove into the water straight for Una.
Una’s lip trembled, her shoulders shaking, and she let out a small, gasping cry like a small animal.
“Regina?” she whispered, her head tilted in disbelief.
Una tore through the pools, splashing everywhere, nearly tackling Regina as she shrieked, the sound so visceral, it made my insides ache. I locked eyes with Máirtín, and he shrugged.
Mascara-stained tears tracked down Regina’s cheeks. “You’re alive! How did you—”
“I was taken by the Fomorians,” Una cried, her knuckles white as she clung to Regina’s shoulders. “They enslaved me. They—”
“Are you all right?” Regina peered across Una’s compact form, searching for invisible hurts. “How did you escape?”
“It was Elizabeth.” Una glanced over her shoulder at me. “She saved me. She saved all of us.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Regina released Una and trudged to the shore, throwing herself to the ground in front of me.
“You have saved my beloved sister from the Fae scourge who stole her away from me so many years ago. I thought she was lost to them forever, but you brought her back.” She looked up at me, her big brown eyes rimmed with red. “I owe you a life debt.”
I almost laughed, feeling the intense weight of her stare. Regina and Una—sisters. It explained so much. Regina’s hatred for the Fae, Una’s fighting spirit. Warmth seeped into my limbs, and I smiled at Máirtín as he balanced on the rocks, making his way to the other side of the pool. He stood back, hands clasped, his gaze peaceful as Regina and Una kneeled together, chatting away in Irish Gaelic, laughing and crying. This reunion—so brief, so fleeting. I wanted to throw a ward over them to keep them safe, but I peered up at the bleeding sky, the hole growing bigger and more threatening.
“Regina,” I said softly. “I need you.”
Una stopped midsentence, her face growing solemn. She locked eyes with me and nodded, understanding what I needed, understanding what would come next. With Regina close to Una, both of them could likely perish beneath the Fir Bolgs’ fire.
“I will do anything,” Regina said, her eyes flitting to Máirtín who frowned.
“I can’t force you,” I said. “What I ask of you is beyond the call.”
“If it involves my sister”—she grasped Una’s hand, and the two of them rose—“I will be by her side. I will fight by her side.”
I gave her a weary smile. “Thank you,” I whispered.
The three of them wandered off, Regina and Una talking a mile a minute with a dazed Máirtín tagging behind them. My focus returned to the spring, staring at my rippling reflection. My to-do list unspooled through my mind a mile long, and yet, all I wanted was to remain by the pools, close my eyes, and listen to the wind. Autumn was coming soon, and small tips of yellow and orange dappled the edges of the leaves like tiny curling flames. Fall was always my favorite time of year. The crisp wind in my lungs, the far-off scent of wood smoke, the fuzzy texture of a wool sweater against my neck, school starting again. I had met Finn around this time of year.
Finn.
Everything came back to him somehow, and that needed to end. Perhaps Una was right. About destiny.
A single leaf fell into the pool, marring its pristine surface. The breeze picked up, and another fell. And another. I couldn’t spend my last hours wondering about our fate. I would live my life, save my friends, save the world, and continue on, because regardless of what was written in the stars, I had come to discover my own strength and my own sense of worth. I could find happiness in that knowledge.
I let out a weary sigh. All I wanted to do was collapse onto my mat, but I needed to find Malachy and go over the layout and defenses of Teamhair one last time. I wandered back into the woods, but as I approached the caves, I overheard strong voices.
I sidled behind a large oak tree and immediately rolled my eyes. Finn and Charlotte stood nose-to-nose in the midst of a heated argument. I turned to leave, but the sound of my name on Charlotte’s lips made me pause.
“Elizabeth is going to lead you all to your deaths,” Charlotte hissed. “She’s rash, untrained, and quite frankly, not a good commander.”
Finn’s face turned a lethal shade of red. “Elizabeth has taken this army from a ragtag band of Fae and transformed it to a fighting force with powerful alliances. Don’t underestimate her.”
A small smile crept across my lips, and I gripped the bark of the tree, leaning forward.
“I know exactly what she is capable of.” Charlotte raised her haughty chin, her eyelashes batting furiously. “My people studied her abilities. She has weaknesses.”
“We all have our weaknesses,” Finn said in a low voice.
“And you are her greatest one,” Charlotte snapped then stepped forward, her tense shoulders softening. “You should be leading the battle. Why do you stand behind her so? You have the skills to lead.”
“But she has the love of the Fae, and this is their war,” he replied.
“So, why are we here?”
Finn gestured to the bruised and broken sky. “Because if we do not fight, all of us are lost. And it is because of you, you and the Fir Bolgs and their American allies. You brought this fate upon us.”
“I didn’t want any of this,” Charlotte pleaded. “I swear to you. I didn’t think they would take it this far.”
“I want to believe you,” Finn said. “But I cannot.”
“Finn, please!”
He paused, staring at her, his eyes narrowing into two dark slits. “You died, Charlotte. I mourned you. I was in hell. My life was agony without you, but you did not return. Even when you could have. You made your choice. Now I have to make mine.”
He turned to leave, but she grabbed his elbow.
“What does that mean?” Her voice sounded shrill, and it echoed through the forest.
He wrenched away. “Neither of us are Fianna anymore. Perhaps you never were. The marriage rules no longer apply. I am divorcing you, Charlotte. When this battle is over, you and I are no more.”
“Oh, and you think Elizabeth will take you back?” Charlotte
let out a thin laugh.
Finn shook his head and stared up at the sky. “It does not matter. I love her. And I would rather spend the rest of eternity alone than spend one more day living another lie with you.”
Charlotte’s mouth opened in a comical “O,” her clear eyes blinking hard as Finn disappeared into the forest. I stared at her for a moment, taking in the shifting muscles of her face as her shock turned to disgust and then rage. With a strangled cry, she kicked at the dirt then turned on her heel and raced after him.
My heart pounded, and I leaned against the tree, gasping for breath. I had told Charlotte I would leave Finn alone to let him choose. Would she still help us? I had to make sure. I took off running, finding her in front of the caves, talking with Amergin.
“Charlotte,” I said, interrupting their conversation. “Why aren’t you with Eamonn?”
“I told him what I knew,” she replied. “Now the Druid needs to sort it out.”
“Sort what out?” Amergin inquired, his Norman nose raised in the air.
I grabbed Charlotte’s arm and dragged her inside, ignoring him. “We’re paying the Druid a visit. I want you to walk me through the plans.”
She wrenched her arm away. “Finn has refused me.”
“That’s not my problem,” I said, gesturing toward Eamonn’s laboratory. “I made you a promise. You need to keep yours.”
She muttered something and whipped her blond hair over her shoulder, then stepped into the chamber.
Eamonn stood staring at a piece of large parchment tacked to the wall. I didn’t recognize his writing scribbled across it, the figures and letters tiny and unrecognizable.
“What is that?” I said, pointing to the paper.
Eamonn startled, dropping the quill in his hand. Deep circles dragged beneath his red-rimmed eyes, his hair blown back and wilder than usual, his robes wrinkled and stained. “I…”
I glanced at Charlotte and back to him. “Are these plans correct?”
Eamonn nodded. “I cannot say, but the magic is there. I thought it was the Morrígan who fueled the device, but it’s a much deeper magic. Deeper than even Danu or Bel’s.”
“And what’s that?”
Eamonn swallowed, running his hand across the stubble on his beard. “Before the Fae, the Druids, and the Fianna. Before the humans. Before anyone else, there was The Green Man.”
My heart skipped, my thoughts returning to the face in the tree that led me to Bel, that led me straight to the Tree of Life.
“The Green Man is an extension of The Tree of Life,” Eamonn continued. “The Father of all. It makes sense the Fir Bolgs would summon that magic to destroy us. There is nothing more powerful.”
“So how do we stop it?” I asked, whirling on Charlotte. “What destroys it?”
Charlotte shook her head. “You can’t destroy it.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, my fingers itching to gouge her eyes out. Instead, I forced my voice to remain calm. “So what do you propose?”
She wandered over to the drawing, pointing out different symbols. “This is the last phase of the device before it ignites. It is written in the Fir Bolgs’ language, the language of the First Men, the Fae closest in line to The Green Man and the spell that can summon his power.”
I studied the figures, which didn’t look like a language at all, but a series of symbols at the end of spokes on a strange wheel.
“They don’t write in a linear way,” Charlotte noted with an air of condescension. “Their language is circular, their stories moving ever outward. Press these symbols”—she pointed to four different symbols—“and the device will stop its march toward destruction.”
My gaze shifted to Eamonn. “Do you think she’s telling the truth?”
He shook his head sadly. “I don’t know. I have tried to configure so many different spells, but nothing makes sense. All I can think about is…” His voice shook and broke, and he turned toward the wall.
I walked toward him and pressed my hand to his shoulder. “I know she’s still alive. We’re going to get her.”
“But the attack…?”
I glanced back at Charlotte. “Go find Finn or Amergin and make yourself useful,” I said.
Charlotte left the room, and I edged toward Eamonn. “I won’t be leading the attack.”
“But who…?”
I explained to him quickly. “Una will be taking my place. I’ll need you to glamour her so I can get Grainne, find the device, and destroy it.”
His brows furrowed. “I don’t trust Charlotte. I knew her, you know, from before. I would see her and Finn at Trinity functions. She looks the same, talks the same, but it’s so different now.” His fingers traced the symbols she had pointed out. “It can’t be that simple. Green Man magic. It’s not something I would mess with.”
I leveled the Druid with a heavy stare. “What do you think? Not what Charlotte says. What you think.”
“The Fir Bolgs paid a heavy price for this magic.” He traced another symbol. “But there’s a deeper story here, a prophecy, you might say.”
“A prophecy?”
He pointed to a strange symbol on the left. “The Fir Bolgs talk of the Earth and the sun, Danu and Bel, respectively. You can see them in the story here, diametrically opposed. The Green Man is this vertical line, here.” His fingers trailed up and down. “If this is the Tree of Life, this symbol down here…” Eamonn frowned.
“What?”
“It doesn’t make sense.” He shook his head. “A child? A baby? Rebirth? I can’t figure it out.”
My hand instinctively went to my belly, a queasy feeling overwhelming me. Just nerves. Just an upset stomach.
“What does it mean?” I asked.
“It’s not that I think Charlotte is lying…” Eamonn massaged the space between his temples. “But I don’t think she’s telling the full truth, either.” He turned toward the table and lifted up a vial. “I have this, if nothing else.”
“What is it?”
His face darkened. “It’s stable now, but if I mix it with the Morrígan blood, it will destroy the device. It’s just that…”
“Out with it.”
His hand shook, and he set the vial down. “It will also destroy anyone or anything in a three-mile radius.”
My chest tightened. A suicide mission. “If it comes to that, I’ll do it. Just… Don’t tell Finn.” Tears threatened to fall. “I’ll teleport out of the castle and take care of it.”
“There are other people who are capable,” Eamonn pressed. “Fae who would gladly give their lives.”
“No. I couldn’t ask it of anyone. It has to be me.”
We stood there in silence for several minutes, and finally I nodded, folding the vials into a slip of leather and tucking it into a pocket for safekeeping.
“You did well, Eamonn,” I said before turning out of the laboratory, waiting until I turned the corner to wipe the tears from my eyes. Pushing them back, I searched the caves for Malachy to go over details about Teamhair and the guard, but someone mentioned he went hunting with Talia. I cursed, about to go back into the cave to catch a few hours of sleep, when a hand clapped on my shoulder and pulled me close.
“I have looked all over for you,” Finn whispered in my ear.
Instinctively, I drew back. A disappointed look crossed his face, and my hand ached to reach up and soothe him, but I resisted.
“Where have you been?” Finn asked.
“I need to talk to you.” I spied Charlotte glaring at us from across the cave, perched by Amergin, who continued to talk with her with wild, impassioned gestures. “Not here…”
I led him out into a clearing far from the caves. When I was certain we had walked far enough and no one could hear us, I planted my fists on my hips and took in a deep breath. “I need you to take back what you said to Char
lotte.”
Finn’s face screwed up in a question mark.
“I mean, I heard you. The two of you. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but I did and”—I massaged the back of my neck, my pulse racing—“You said you wanted to divorce her.”
“I did.”
“I need you to change your mind.”
“What are you talking about?” Finn hissed.
“She wants you,” I replied. “And she told me if I let you go, she would tell us how to destroy the device.”
Finn frowned. “But she and Eamonn—”
“I don’t think she’s telling us the whole truth,” I said. “I need to be sure.”
Because otherwise, I’ll be the one detonating the device.
But I couldn’t tell Finn that was plan B. He would step in and be all noble, and there would be no way I could talk him out of it.
Finn took hold of my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin. “I don’t love her, Elizabeth.”
“I know,” I said, resting my palms over his and prying him away. “I need you to pretend. For now. For us.” I gestured to the sky. “Until I can fix this.”
“But what if it can’t be fixed?” Finn said, his voice low and gravelly. “What if tonight is all we have?”
I ran my hand down his arm, my thumb tracing the smooth muscles rippling up toward his shoulders. “Then it’s all we have.”
I pulled him toward a large tree and pushed him against the bark, my hands searching under his tunic, under the waist of his trousers. A chill swept through the trees, but heat flooded my chest, my face as I pressed my lips to his neck, tracing my teeth along the taut tendons down to his collarbone. My tongue tasted sweat, desire, fear. I kissed his full lips, pulling his shirt over his head, running my palms against his smooth skin. I reached down and took hold of him, clutching tight against his thickness. His body was a furnace, and he groaned as I tugged harder, running my thumb over his tiny opening and coating his tip with the slippery essence. My own thighs drenched, I wanted him fast, hard, ready.
Echoes from the Veil (Aisling Chronicles) Page 22