Finn inhaled sharply through her teeth. “So that is your aim? Why?”
Keiren glared at her. “I am not foolish enough to believe Bedelia did not divulge my secrets to you.”
She blinked at her. “Secrets? Bedelia said nothing of secrets.”
Keiren tilted her head, now seeming to share in Finn’s confusion. “I held her captive in the marshlands until she escaped with my father and that filthy Faie-infected sailor to run back to you.”
Finn shook her head. “Àed told me—” she cut herself off, realizing they had lied to her. Àed hadn’t found Bedelia wandering the marshlands. He’d found her within Keiren’s fortress, or perhaps it was the other way around. And the sailor . . . could she mean Sativola? Bedelia had claimed no knowledge of his fate.
“She truly did not tell you?” Keiren asked.
She shook her head again, wondering why Bedelia had lied.
Keiren chuckled. “Foolish girl. She should never have been loyal to me from the start.” She sighed. “While Bedelia was with me, I confided to her my plan. I want to break the barrier to the in-between to find my dead mother. When I was a child, I cursed my mother. Not on purpose, mind you, but she still died because of it. She is now trapped in the in-between, much like the souls you stole, and much like your daughter.”
All of Finn’s thoughts came to a crashing halt, like waves breaking on the shore. “What—” she gasped, “what did you say?”
“Your daughter,” Keiren said again as if she weren’t currently shattering Finn’s heart into a million pieces, “Niklas told me she’s there.”
Finn shook her head. “That cannot be. She died a natural death, she should have moved on.”
Keiren’s sad eyes seemed to reflect a measure of Finn’s pain. “Great magics always require a price. You cursed the people of Uí Néid because they killed your daughter. Her loss anchored the curse. When their souls fled their bodies for the in-between, hers went with them.”
Finn gripped her stomach, nausea coursing through her. Her baby, her little Niamh, she’d . . . cursed her? She fell to her side and vomited in the grass.
Moments later, a cool hand alighted on her shoulder. She tugged away, then blinked through teary eyes to see Keiren hovering over her.
“You’re lying,” Finn hissed. “It cannot be so.”
Keiren stared down at her. “You know the Travelers cannot lie. This is what they told me.”
Finn forced her weakened arms to push her up off the ground, away from the mess she’d made. She hunched forward, tucking her knees to her chest. “What exactly did they tell you?”
Keiren sat beside her, tarnishing her silken dress with dirt. “I only recently learned this, mind you, but Niklas confided that he too wants to break the barrier to the in-between. The Ceàrdaman originated there, but curious, came to this land to play with the lives of mortals. When too many of them came through, they left a hole in the barrier, seeping magic into this land. Eventually the hole plugged, and they were trapped here. For centuries they have endeavored to return.”
“Then this is all a ruse to trick us into helping them,” Finn decided. Niamh couldn’t be stuck, she couldn’t. Finn had been to the in-between many times, but she’d never seen her daughter there.
“I do not believe that to be the case,” Keiren said softly.
Overcome with emotion, Finn glared at her. “The Travelers do nothing for others. They have tricked you. If my daughter and your mother were there, we would have seen them.”
Keiren shook her head. “I believe they are some place those from this realm cannot go. A place where only denizens of the in-between can venture.”
Finn took a long, shaky breath. “So if what you say is true, breaking the barrier will release them? It will allow their spirits to move on?”
Keiren nodded. “Or, it will bring them back.”
Finn’s jaw fell. “You cannot bring back the dead!” she gasped.
Keiren turned her startling blue eyes to her, her face impassive. “Magic can do many things. If a soul exists, flesh can be created around it.”
Tears streaked down Finn’s face. “As much as I’d like to believe that, I cannot. My daughter is dead.”
Keiren raised a red brow at her. “You would leave her trapped then? I have underestimated your compassion.”
Finn shook her head. “No, if she is there, I will free her, but only so she can move on. I will free her in the same way I will free Iseult’s ancestors. I will use this.” She tugged at the ragged white swath of fabric tied around her waist.
Keiren’s eyebrows lifted. “The Faie Queen’s shroud? It can do many things, but it cannot free souls from the in-between. It is filled with magic of the Faie, magic of this realm, not of that one.”
Finn’s face crumpled. She’d been sure that the shroud would grant her enough power to free them. It could take magic away, and souls. Could it not return them?
“The only way to free them is to break the barrier,” Keiren pressed. “What you do with their souls after that is up to you. They are anchored to this land by your curse, and my mother by mine, yet because they are dead, they are in the in-between. Normal spirits would move on, but they cannot. The only way to sever that anchor is to break the barrier.”
“I will think on this,” Finn breathed, surprised at her words. This was what the Travelers wanted, what Keiren wanted. Both were her enemies, but were they truly? Her thoughts darted to Branwen. Niklas had sent her to Finn for a reason. She’d need Branwen’s in-between energy to break the barrier, but she hadn’t seen her in days.
“What is it?” Keiren asked.
“I have lost the wraith Niklas sent me,” she sighed. “I could not break the barrier, even if I wanted to.”
“There are other ways,” Keiren assured. “I know the ritual, I just need you to perform it. Plus, you have this.” She tapped the ring on Finn’s finger. “It is a relic of the in-between. It can serve as a connection.”
Finn was barely able to nod. She felt utterly numb. She wanted to break the barrier right that minute, but, “I have to make it to Garenoch first. An Fiach will attack there. They may need my help.”
“You will aid Ealasaid, even after she turned you away?” Keiren questioned.
Finn glared at her. “Do not think me naive enough to believe she reached that point on her own. I seem to recall you standing at her side when we met in the in-between.”
Keiren had the grace to blush. “Yes, forgive me, I’d hoped to use her as a pawn against you, to force you to break the barrier. Little did I know, I simply could have asked.”
Finn snorted, still feeling numb. “Yes, your manipulations were for naught. Now you’ll have to feel quite uncomfortable when you help me protect Garenoch.”
Keiren leaned away from her. “You cannot be serious,” she balked. “Ealasaid wants nothing to do with me. She doesn’t trust me.”
“And why should she?” Finn questioned. “You just openly admitted you were using her to manipulate me. You owe her an apology, at the very least.”
Keiren blinked at her. “An apology? Most certainly not.”
“Oh most certainly,” Finn argued. “We are all going to help each other, it is only by standing together that we may survive.”
Keiren primly plucked at her skirts, though the effort was in vain, as it only shifted more dirt onto them. “And what of the prophecy? You know both you and she cannot survive.”
“If that is truly the case, then it shall be her,” Finn sighed, and she meant it. She knew Iseult would try to stop her, but he could not. She would free her daughter, and they would both move on together. It would be as it should have been, over a century ago, if that was the only way.
Keiren shook her head. “No, you have to be the remaining queen if the barrier is to be broken.”
Finn furrowed her brow. “Is there something else you’re not telling me?”
Keiren scowled. “Niklas claims that the barrier will be broken once you are the rem
aining queen. If Ealasaid survives, she will start an even larger war to protect the mages. If Oighear lives, she will wrap the land in eternal winter.”
Finn stood, having heard enough. She still felt ill, and not entirely present in her body, but she knew she must hold herself together for just a little while longer. “I’ll prove the Travelers wrong,” she decided. “I will help Ealasaid, then I will break the barrier, even if it kills me.”
Still seated on the ground, Keiren turned wide eyes up to her. “You know, I can finally see why so many follow you. You truly put their lives before your own. Perhaps you do deserve to be queen of all the land.”
“I do not want to be queen,” Finn muttered. “I only want to right the wrongs I committed. I want to ensure the peace and safety of my friends, even if such a fate is not a possible end for me.”
Keiren stood, brushing the dirt from her skirts.
“We cannot let you do that,” a voice said from behind them, sending a shiver up Finn’s spine.
She turned to see what Sugn wanted, then her heart fell to her feet. He was not alone. Sugn held a dagger to Iseult’s throat, though Iseult seemed to be barely maintaining consciousness. Beside him stood Óengus.
“How dare you,” she growled, stepping toward them. She’d been sure they wouldn’t harm him, not when she’d proven she could destroy them.
Keiren grabbed her wrist before she could advance. “I’d be cautious, if I were you,” she whispered.
Finn halted. Keiren was right. Loinnir stomped her hooves on the ground, but Finn raised a hand to calm her. She could sense the Faie in the surrounding forest too, but she could not call to them. Just one wrong move, and Iseult would die.
“I did not want to believe the mortal,” Sugn explained, nodding toward Óengus, “but it seems he spoke true. You will use the power of the Faie Queen’s shroud to assist you in breaking the barrier to the in-between. We cannot let that happen, and so, that power must be taken away.”
“What do you want?” Finn hissed, her eyes glued to the dagger at Iseult’s throat. His eyes had fluttered shut, but Sugn easily held him aloft.
Sugn tilted his head. “Give the shroud to the mortal,” he instructed, “and your lover shall live.”
Finn clenched her fists. If she gave the shroud away, she might not be able to free her daughter. “And what will he do with it?” she asked evenly.
Sugn smiled. “He will deliver it to Oighear the White. It is hers, after all.”
Finn’s jaw tightened. “You’ll doom us all?”
Sugn smirked. “Hardly. We do not fear the Snow Queen. When you grant us our full power, none shall defeat us. It shall be as it was before. She will tremble in our presence.”
She cringed slightly as the dagger pressed into Iseult’s flesh, drawing blood. Summoning strength, she shot back, “We had the shroud back then. Oighear signed the treaty because she was weakened.”
“Yes,” Sugn agreed, “but you were just a girl at the time, not the woman you have become. Oighear is losing followers every day. What is a queen without an empire? Let her have the shroud. She’ll need it to crush the human queen.”
Rage curled within her. First they’d harmed Iseult, now they would threaten Ealasaid? “But why?” she questioned, her body aching to lash out. “Why not just take the shroud for yourselves? Why even follow me this far if your only intent is to sabotage my plans?”
“This is not sabotage, my dear,” he replied. “You do not have the will to kill the human queen, and so we will grant Oighear the power to do it for you. These mortals hold you back. Now give the shroud to the mortal, or I will kill your beloved here and now.”
“If you do that, she will kill you,” Keiren growled, stepping forward.
Sugn tilted his head. “Yes, but he will still be dead.” He turned back to Finn. “And we all know what type of monster she becomes when those she loves are killed.”
“What is to stop her from killing you after he is safe?” Keiren pressed.
Sugn grinned. “Without the shroud, she is not strong enough. She will not be able to resist us. To resist what she truly is. We, the Dair, were created to rule over this land, and so we shall.”
Finn was surprised when Keiren’s hand wrapped around hers, until she realized what the sorceress was doing. She subtly pressed on Finn’s green-stoned ring. “I advise you to give them the shroud,” she said calmly. “There are other ways to move forward.”
Finn took a shaky breath. She was the Oaken Queen, and she still held a powerful relic. She did not need the shroud to end them. She could save Iseult, then stop Oighear when the time came.
“Fine,” she agreed, stepping away from Keiren. She lowered her hands to untie the shroud from her waist. “Take it, but free Iseult first.”
Sugn turned to Óengus. “Retrieve the shroud, then step away. I will protect you from her.” He turned his gaze back to Finn. “Once you’ve released the shroud, I will release your lover.”
Glancing at the blood trickling down Iseult’s neck, she knew she had no choice, despite knowing he would not want her to succumb, not for him.
With trembling hands she unknotted the shroud, then stepped forward as Óengus moved to meet her.
She met his icy gaze as she handed it to him. “Do not run away too quickly, I will be retrieving this from you later.”
Óengus smiled. “You shall try.”
She turned back to Sugn. “Now let him go.”
“With pleasure,” Sugn replied. He withdrew the dagger from Iseult’s throat, then jammed it violently into his gut.
Everything blurred around Finn as she screamed. Iseult fell to the ground, with Sugn hovering over him, bloody dagger in hand. Finn willed her feet to move toward Iseult.
In an instant, she was at his side. Blood welled from his wound. She tore her shirt off, not even considering it left her bare save for her underpinnings, and held it to his wound. Sugn could well have stabbed her in the back at that moment, but the blow never came.
Keiren focused on Finn’s sobbing form, creating a protective barrier around her since the Cavari man still held his knife.
Seeming to sense this, Sugn met her gaze. “Foolish girl, you know little of the matters in which you interfere.” He turned and stalked away, clearly never having intended to harm Finn.
Remembering Óengus and the shroud, Keiren scanned the area for him and Oighear’s giant cat, which was likely near, but he had fled. She almost debated going after him, but if the man that Finn loved were to die, much more than the shroud would be lost, and her own plans might be thwarted.
With a frustrated growl, she hurried to Finn’s side, keeping a watchful eye out for the return of the Cavari.
Deeming the area clear, she knelt beside Finn, looking down at the injured man. If they did not stop the bleeding, the wound would prove fatal.
“I can alter the air around him to slow the bleeding,” she explained, “but healing magic is beyond me.”
“Do it,” Finn ordered.
She shooed Finn away, focusing on the wound. With her mind, she solidified the air around the puncture, placing pressure on it.
She turned to see Finn wipe a bloody hand across her tear-stained cheek. “I can heal him,” she gasped desperately. “I’ve done it once before.” Kneeling toward Iseult, she withdrew a blade from her belt.
Realizing her intent, Keiren shook her head. “Your immortality? You cannot! If you share it again, it will weaken you further. This may be exactly what your people want.”
“I don’t care,” Finn growled. She sliced Iseult’s limp palm with the dagger, then sliced her own before sealing the wounds against each other. She trembled as she leaned forward to kiss his pale brow.
Keiren could feel the magic pulsing between the pair. Finn had already tainted her immortality once, and now she’d taint it further. Would she even be immortal enough to use the ritual to break the barrier? Would she have enough power without the shroud?
Keiren cursed herself for l
etting it all happen. If she’d have known Óengus’ intent, she would have killed him when they met the previous day.
Now, all she could do was keep pressure on this worthless mortal’s wound while all hope of saving her mother left her.
She’d known her life was cursed from a very early age, but this had finally proven it.
Iseult’s thoughts were a blur. The last thing he remembered was meeting with Sugn. He’d announced that he’d thought about his plan, and would aid him, if only to keep Finn safe, then things had gone horribly awry, all because of Óengus.
Óengus, somehow miraculously still alive and with the Cavari, had divulged that Keiren was meeting with Finn to sway her on another course.
Then everything had gone black. He might even be dead. All he knew was that he’d failed.
Suddenly his recollection halted, and he was overwhelmed with something like fire coursing through his veins. He gasped, choking on the intake of breath. Managing another painful breath, he sat up.
His eyes fluttered open. Finn was inches from his face, and behind her, Keiren.
“How?” he rasped, then noticed his hand joined with Finn’s, and the tired look on her face.
“It was the only way,” she replied breathlessly, releasing his hand.
Tendrils of hair floated around her face. He realized distantly they were floating on waves of her magic. It surrounded them both.
“I told you,” he groaned, “never to weaken yourself for me.” He could feel where the wound had been in his gut, though he was not sure how he’d incurred it. Probably Sugn . . . or Óengus.
He squinted against the brightness of the sun, trying to raise his head to peer around them. “Where are they?” he hissed.
Finn moved to brace him with her shoulder so he could remain partially upright.
It was Keiren who answered, “Gone, for now, and Óengus has the shroud.” She glared at him. “I hope your life was worth it.”
He realized blearily that Keiren had not betrayed him as he’d originally thought. She’d had no idea that he’d be attacked while she met with Finn.
The Oaken Throne Page 18