Among the Unseen

by Jodi McIsaac

  “Yes,” Irial answered. “I don’t know where it went, but it must have expended a great effort to bring me this far.”

  “Dead, probably,” Logheryman said in a hollow voice. He and Maggie exchanged a long glance. “How the tables have turned. Twice in recent days they have come to us for help, and now we must go to them.”

  “Who?” Irial asked.

  Logheryman ignored him. “Maggie, my dear, would you mind fetching my boots?”

  She scowled at him. “I will do no such thing! You’re in no shape to go anywhere, magic boots or not!”

  The leprechaun rolled his eyes. “I won’t argue with you there,” he said. “But this lad is much younger than I am, and he seems to be in slightly better shape. He must be, to have survived the journey from Inis Mór. A few thousand miles more won’t kill him.”

  “And where will you be sending him, then?”

  “They always knew how to contact me; they never told me how I could contact them if I were ever in need,” he said, his words tinged with bitterness. “But I once sent them to a building in Halifax, care of my thousand-league boots. Her friend, the one who was burned, lives there now. Her name is Jane. She’ll know how to find her.”

  “Find who?” Irial asked, thoroughly confused.

  “Queen Cedar of the Tuatha Dé Danann,” Logheryman answered. “I never thought I’d hear myself say it, but if anyone can help us, it’s her. She seems to have made a habit of beating the odds.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Cedar asked Nevan to convey the message that something urgent had come up and she wouldn’t be at the Council meeting today. Then she and Rohan headed home, followed by her contingent of guards, so that Cedar could change into what she called “her civvies.” Rohan told one of the guards to round up Murdoch.

  “It will be too conspicuous for you to show up in Dublin surrounded by guards,” Rohan explained. “But I’ll feel better if at least two of us are with you.”

  Cedar didn’t object, as long as it didn’t delay their trip. But by the time she had slipped into her faded blue jeans and Rolling Stones T-shirt, Murdoch had arrived, looking rather grumpy in slacks and a sport jacket.

  “For the record, I’d like it known that I object to the idea of bringing the druids—any druids—to our world in the first place,” Murdoch said.

  “They don’t know where they are,” Cedar said. “For all they know, they’re still on Earth. This one won’t be any different. Besides, you’ve assured me that our druid prisoners are well guarded.”

  Murdoch fell silent, and Cedar turned back to Rohan. “Ready?”

  “Have you been to Trinity College before?” he asked.

  “No, but I’ve seen pictures,” she said, closing her eyes and concentrating on the photographs of the old brick buildings that she’d seen online. She opened the sidh in the air in front of them, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

  “This way,” Rohan said, immediately closing the sidh behind them. They were in a large cobblestone square surrounded by gray brick buildings. Tall, leafy trees tinted red and gold lined the pathways that crisscrossed the square. College students armed with iPhones and heavy backpacks pushed by them. Murdoch moved closer to Cedar as they hurried after Rohan. They rounded a corner, and entered a building through a side door. Cedar didn’t have a clue where they were, but she was sure Rohan had done his research.

  “Have you been here before?” she asked as she followed him up a narrow flight of stone stairs that had been smoothed by hundreds of years of footsteps.

  “Yes,” he answered, offering no other explanation. Finally, at the end of a long, unremarkable hallway, they stopped in front of a closed door labeled with a sign reading, “Helen Sullivan, PhD. Interim Keeper of Manuscripts.”

  “Will she know who—what—we are?” Cedar whispered.

  “If she’s a druid worth her salt, she will,” Murdoch muttered in reply. Without knocking, he pushed open the door, entering first and giving the room a swift once-over.

  Behind a tidy, polished desk in the center of the room sat a woman Cedar guessed to be in her sixties. She had short-cropped gray hair and rather severe features, with angled eyebrows that gave her a permanent look of disapproval. She was dressed in a simple black pantsuit, and a single pearl dangled from a fine gold chain around her neck. She stood up as soon as they entered.

  “Excuse me, this is a private—” She stopped suddenly, her steely blue eyes growing wide. Cedar stepped forward.

  “Helen Sullivan?”

  The woman met her gaze, unflinching, her eyes still wide. “So it’s true. The Tuatha Dé Danann have come to Earth. I heard the rumors…”

  “We need you to come with us. We have some questions for you,” Cedar interrupted.

  At this, Helen frowned, her arched eyebrows becoming more pronounced. “Does this have something to do with Liam? Do you know where he is?”

  “He’s dead,” Cedar said bluntly. “But we can’t talk about it here.” She watched closely for Helen’s reaction, but the woman had become still as stone.

  “And where would you like me to go?” Helen asked after a long silence.

  “Somewhere we can ask you some questions,” Cedar answered.

  “You can ask me your questions here,” she said, sitting down in her chair and folding her hands on the desk in front of her.

  “I must insist,” Cedar said, a new edge to her voice. “There is too much risk of interruption here.” She glanced at Rohan and Murdoch, who both nodded.

  Cedar opened a sidh back to Tír na nÓg, to the compound beneath the Hall where they were keeping the other druids. Helen jumped to her feet at the sight of the sidh. “Is that…?”

  “Yes,” Cedar answered.

  Helen’s lips were tight. “I will answer your questions, whatever they are, since you give me no choice,” she said. “But you must understand, I cannot be away from my work for long.”

  Cedar raised her eyebrows. Three Tuatha Dé Danann had just walked into her office, and this woman was worried about her work? Someone had priority issues—or was hiding something. She jerked her head toward the sidh. “Let’s go.”

  Walking through it, Cedar let the other two Danann follow with Helen. As Rohan closed the sidh behind them, Cedar watched Helen assess her surroundings. While it did not appear that they were underground, they were in fact in the dungeons under the Hall. This place reminded Cedar of an old abandoned train station, cavernous and empty, with a gray, arched ceiling soaring above them. A series of archways lined each side of the chamber, and at first glance they appeared to be tunnels leading off in various directions underground. Two uniformed guards stood at each end of the chamber. Murdoch took the lead and they followed him down one of the tunnels, stopping at a solid wooden door set several feet within the wall. He took a large brass key from his pocket and shoved it into the lock. The door swung open to admit them.

  Helen had remained silent up until now, but with one sweeping glance she took in the small room, which was outfitted plainly with a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk. “What is this?” she asked.

  “It’s where you’ll stay until you tell us everything we need to know,” Cedar said. Murdoch closed the door with an audible slam, and he and Rohan stood on either side of it.

  “It looks like a cell to me,” Helen said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “I had heard the gods were arrogant. You have some nerve.”

  Cedar bristled. “What do you know about Liam’s plans?” she asked, not wanting to waste any more time.

  “Liam’s plans for what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re telling me that you and Liam worked together every day, and he never once tried to recruit your help for his plan to steal the Lia Fáil and put Nuala on the throne?”

  Helen’s eyes narrowed. “Steal the Lia Fáil? The Stone of Destiny? No, he did not. And I find it hard to believe that he would be capable of such a thing. Liam was an excellent man and a fine scholar.”

 
; Cedar looked at Rohan, exasperated. He pulled a small silver goblet out of one of his inner pockets and handed it to her.

  “You’ve heard of the goblet of Manannan mac Lir?” Cedar asked as she passed the goblet to Helen.

  The druid nodded. “Heard of it, yes. But I did not know it actually existed.”

  “I’ll ask you again,” Cedar said. “Were you helping Liam and Nuala?”

  Helen hesitated, staring at the goblet, which she was now turning over in her hands, examining it from every angle. Then she gripped it tightly and looked Cedar in the eye. “No.”

  The goblet remained intact, and Cedar frowned. Perhaps she had asked the wrong question.

  “Did Liam tell you about his plan to prevent me from becoming queen?”

  “No.”

  “Did he mention the Lia Fáil?”

  “No.”

  “Did he talk about the druids returning to Tír na nÓg?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know who Nuala is?”

  At this Helen hesitated. “I had heard that some of the Danann were in our world. One of them, a woman, apparently contacted some of the druids. If that was Nuala, she didn’t contact me, and it wouldn’t have made a difference if she’d tried. I do not wish to be involved in the internal quarrels of the Tuatha Dé Danann.” She gave Cedar a pointed look. “How did Liam die?”

  “He was killed.”

  “By you?”

  “Not entirely.”

  Helen raised an eyebrow at her. “I have answered your questions. I was not involved in any plot against you. I demand that you release me at once.”

  Cedar glared at her. “Both Nuala and Liam are dead. We know they weren’t working alone. You were Liam’s assistant—you worked with him every day. Do you honestly think I’m just going to let you walk out of here?” I was fooled once, Cedar told herself. I trusted Liam so quickly, even when the others didn’t, and he nearly killed Eden and Finn. I won’t make the same mistake twice. She didn’t even blink when I told her Liam was dead. She knows something she’s not telling me.

  “I was his assistant at the library, not in some plot to take over the Otherworld. I wasn’t even sure this realm existed until I was forced here…That’s where I’m assuming we are, anyway. Look, your goblet is still whole. I have told you no lies.”

  She was telling the truth; the goblet was smooth and solid in her hands. Helen tried to give it back to her, but Cedar refused to take it. “I’m not done,” she said. “Why were two druids working at the library of Trinity College Dublin? There aren’t many druids left, so it’s pretty odd that two would be working at the same place. Was he your mentor?”

  “No, he was not.” Helen sniffed. “Druids have an interest in ancient things. If you did your research, you’d realize that many druids are scholars of the ancient world. Our library possesses some of the most ancient and rare manuscripts in existence. It’s not unusual that such treasures would draw more than one druid. Now, you must return me to the college at once.”

  “You seem unusually attached to your work,” Cedar said.

  “I am responsible for a priceless collection of artifacts. There is no one else there to keep them safe, so I must return!”

  Cedar frowned at Helen’s strangely worded comment. “I find it hard to believe that there is no one else in the entire library who can keep these things safe. Do you mean that there are no other druids? Why would that be important?”

  Helen’s jaw was clenched as she answered. “My work is very sensitive. Only I can properly oversee it. You do not understand the consequences.”

  Cedar kept an eye on the goblet, which was still in one piece in Helen’s hand. The druid was far more flustered now than she’d been all day. Cedar knew she was on to something.

  “Tell me about these consequences.”

  There was a long pause. “I can’t.”

  “You can’t or you won’t?”

  “It does not concern you. It is a sacred trust, given to the druids and no one else!” “What kind of sacred trust?”

  “It is nothing. Nothing of importance.”

  At this, the goblet shattered, and Helen jumped back as the shards fell from her hand to the floor.

  Cedar raised an eyebrow. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” She bent down and scooped up the shards. “I am queen of the Tuatha Dé Danann,” she whispered to it, feeling a chill as it reformed in her hand. Then she handed it back to Helen.

  “I told you I was not involved with any plot against you or anyone else. That is the truth,” Helen said emphatically. “I didn’t know what Liam and this Nuala woman were planning. And I certainly didn’t help them. I have done nothing to harm you or your people.”

  “Did Liam know about this ‘sacred trust’?” Cedar asked.

  She saw Helen’s eyes flicker toward the goblet before answering. “Yes.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “No.”

  “Hiding things from me is not going to get you sent home sooner.”

  “Is it ‘hiding things’ to not tell you every detail about my life and work? You might be queen of the Tuatha Dé Danann, but you are not my queen.”

  Cedar took a step forward, so that they were standing eye to eye. “Liam was very kind to me. He offered to help us in our quest for the Lia Fáil. He told me stories about my adoptive mother, a druid who raised me—until Nuala killed her. He helped me understand her. He asked me to trust him, and I did. And then he betrayed us all in the worst possible way. He tortured my daughter and the man I love. He tried to burn us all alive. He would have allowed Nuala to start a new world war on Earth. I’ve learned how skilled druids are at keeping secrets—secrets that end up hurting innocent people. So forgive me if I don’t exactly trust you…particularly not when I know you’re hiding something from me.”

  She left the room, feeling a grim satisfaction at the sound of the heavy door clanging shut behind her.

  CHAPTER 4

  Jane rolled over and looked sleepily at the clock beside her bed. Ten a.m. She considered going back to sleep for an hour, but then she remembered that Felix was coming over today, and she didn’t want him to find her still in bed—though they’d likely end up back there, anyway. He came over most Saturdays, if he could tear Cedar away from her official duties long enough to make a sidh for him. Jane allowed herself a wide grin as she stretched and sat up, running her hand through her short hair. She’d decided she liked it super-short after losing it all in the fire and then growing it back with one of Brighid’s amazing spa potions. But she’d ditched the dirty blonde as soon as she came home from Cedar’s coronation, choosing instead an ink black—for the time being. Her tattoos had all been burned off in the fire, and she already had appointments booked to get them replaced. Felix had laughed and said she changed her appearance more than Finn, and he was a shape-shifter. But he also said it was one of the things he loved about her, and he couldn’t wait to see what she came up with next.

  Jane’s grin grew even wider at the thought. No one else in her long history of convoluted relationships made her feel like Felix did. She’d dated some strange guys in her time, but an Irish god took the cake. And even if he hadn’t been a gorgeous, immortal being who could heal wounds with a single touch, she would have been just as smitten. Felix thought everything about her was amazing—not weird, not amusing, but fascinating. They could talk for hours, even though their conversations almost inevitably led to the bedroom…or the living room floor…or the kitchen table. It was as if she were the center of his universe. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this way, and hoped that—this time—the relationship would last.

  She headed into the kitchen to make some coffee, and laughed when she saw the note from Cedar. She often worried about how her friend was handling the pressures of royalty, but whenever they got a chance to talk—which was far too rare, in Jane’s opinion—Cedar assured her that everything was fine. Which, of course, just made Jane worry more. She hadn’t been allowed back to Tí
r na nÓg since Cedar’s coronation. Cedar had made the sidhe off-limits, so she couldn’t exactly have her best friend popping in and out as she pleased. Even Felix’s regular visits to Earth had to be done in secret while Cedar struggled with the question of who should be able to use the sidhe, and for what purpose.

  Jane stayed dressed in the negligee Felix had given her, a delicate lavender silk and black-lace number she would never have bought for herself. Still, she had to admit it looked damn good on her. She sipped her coffee and checked her email and social media, while at the same time keeping an eye on the starstone she and Felix used to communicate when he was in Tír na nÓg. She had it wrapped around her wrist like a bracelet so she’d notice right away when it started to glow. Usually he gave her some advance warning when he was on his way, but she liked being surprised once in a while.

  Jane was wondering whether she should shower now or wait for Felix when a barely audible knock came from the direction of the door. She paused and cocked her head, wondering if it was maybe at a neighbor’s door down the hall. But then it came again—a slow thump that sounded more like the fall of heavy footsteps than the staccato beats she was used to hearing against her door. She set her coffee cup down and padded over, peering out of the peephole to see who could possibly be visiting on a Saturday morning. She knew it wouldn’t be Cedar or Felix—they both traveled by sidh and had a key as backup. At first, she saw nothing. Then she noticed a shadow on the hallway floor. From its shape, it looked as though a figure was crouched against her door, just out of sight of the peephole. Her breath caught in her throat and she paused, not sure what to do. She was about to head back to her room for a robe when she heard a plaintive voice from the hallway. “Please,” it said, and the voice—though it was weak and sad—sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine. She quickly undid the safety bolt and swung the door open.

  A young man was lying in a heap on the floor. He was wearing strange, old-fashioned boots with block heels and shiny silver buckles, along with faded jeans and a simple black T-shirt that clung tightly to his body. He was crouched so that she could only see the back of his head, a mass of black curls. Her heart rate, already higher than normal, started racing. And then he lifted his head and looked at her, and she gasped, unable to tear her gaze away. Something in the back of her mind triggered a warning, but everything else started to fade away as she continued to stare at him. There was an unearthly look about him; his eyes were black and wide set, he had a pronounced cupid’s bow that drew her eyes immediately to his lips, and his skin glowed like moonlight reflecting off the ocean.