Among the Unseen

by Jodi McIsaac

  “So? You’ve been through a lot too. I want to help.”

  Cedar wrapped her arms around her daughter and pulled her close. “I know you want to help, baby, but this is something for the grown-ups, okay?”

  Eden squirmed away and glared at her.

  “Eden, listen to me,” Cedar said. “It’s not that I don’t think you could help. I do. I know that you are strong and brave and I’m really proud of you. But someone has to stay here in Tír na nÓg, right? They need your help here.”

  Eden huffed. “How can I help here? No one lets me do anything.”

  “You’ll be the only person here who can open the sidhe, in case someone else needs to come to Earth,” she pointed out.

  Eden was silent for a moment. “Fine,” she finally said. “I guess.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Cedar assured her. “And I’ll make sure to take my starstone so you can keep me up to date on what’s going on back here.”

  Eden nodded, but her eyes were still uncertain.

  Cedar took a deep breath. “Daddy will be back soon. He’ll come say good night in a bit. I’ll see you soon, my heart.”

  She jogged down the staircase carved into the tree trunk, afraid to look back, afraid of what she might see in Eden’s eyes. She had heard everyone’s objections…but the more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that she was doing the right thing—the only thing. She thought of Logheryman’s body lying at the bottom of the grave she had dug for him, of how sunken and defeated Brighid—the most alive person she had ever known—now seemed. She wondered if this was why the Lia Fáil had chosen her, to save the Unseen from extinction.

  When she reached the courtyard, she discovered she was not alone.

  Gathered around the waterfall in the center of the room was her entire Council—Rohan, Gorman, Anya, Nevan, Maran, and Amras—plus Riona, Seisyll, Sam, and Murdoch. Jane was hovering in the back. Finn stood in front of them all.

  “You wouldn’t listen to reason,” Finn said. “I had no choice.”

  Cedar’s insides twisted. She could see with her eyes what was happening…but her heart wouldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t do this to her. Not Finn. “What is this?” she asked.

  “Finn told us what you’re planning to do,” Riona said. “You can’t, Cedar.”

  He would.

  “Did he also tell you that all of the Unseen will die if I don’t?” Cedar said, once she had found her voice. She could feel her cheeks burning, and she clenched her fists to keep the fire inside. “Did he tell you that Brighid will die?”

  “I told them everything,” Finn said. “But this is not a road we can go down. Abhartach might have been wrong. We should keep looking for the jewels. We’ll start near Kells and go from there. We’ll seek out all of the Unseen. One of them might know something. You don’t have to do this.”

  “You’ve been very admirable, Cedar,” Riona said, her voice low and soothing. “No one will accuse you of not trying. But this isn’t your fight.”

  “It is our fight!” Cedar said, looking around the circle for some sign of support. “We have the chance to save their lives! Why wouldn’t we take it?”

  “You don’t know for sure your plan would even work,” Rohan said. “At the first sign of your powers, the humans might sweep you away.”

  “And what if you lead them back here?” Gorman said. “Forgive me for saying so, Your Majesty, but your first duty is to your own people, not the Unseen.”

  Cedar shook her head, refusing to believe what she was hearing. “Do none of you agree with me? You all think we should just let them keep dying one by one while we look for jewels that may no longer exist?”

  “You’re so new to this world, Cedar,” Nevan said. “But the reason the Tuatha Dé Danann have lasted so long is that we didn’t get involved in the conflicts of others. And above all, we do not reveal ourselves to humans.”

  “I’m not saying we should do nothing,” Finn interjected. “I want to help the Unseen too. But I don’t think we’ve exhausted all our options yet.”

  “If you do this, your actions could have devastating consequences for all of your people,” Murdoch growled. “Do you really want to cause a war with Ériu? Humans have always feared any beings that are different from them, and rest assured, if they find out about us, they will want to destroy us. You know better than anyone what they’re capable of, and how dangerous their weapons are. If they find a way into Tír na nÓg and attack us, I do not think we could withstand them. Many lives would be lost on both sides.”

  Cedar sank down onto one of the benches beneath the willow trees. It didn’t have to be that way—not if she was careful. She could hear Maeve’s voice in her head, the voice from her dream. If you had just listened to me, you would be living a normal, peaceful life. We all would. But you’ve always had to do things your way. Is that what this was? Was she just doing things her own way again? Was she just supposed to ignore what was happening to the Unseen so they could all live a normal, peaceful life? She looked around at the faces of her friends, family, and advisers, all of them fixed on her. Some looked sympathetic; others looked worried. Some were threatening. No one spoke. They were united against her.

  She stood up and took a deep breath. “I’m going to go back to see Brighid,” she said. Out of the corner of her eye she could see several of them exchanging glances. Perhaps they had expected her to yell some more.

  “So you agree—you will not reveal yourself to the humans?” Gorman asked.

  “No,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to make sure she’s still alive, and then I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep her that way.”

  Several voices broke out at once, renewing their arguments.

  “That’s enough!” she roared, and the room fell silent. She stood perfectly still. “The Lia Fáil chose me. I know that some of my people think that it made a mistake, that I shouldn’t be queen. Maybe they’re right; maybe I’m not fit to be a ruler. But I believe that turning our backs on those who are dying would be far worse—for them and for us—than taking the risk to help them. Are we really the kind of people who would turn away from the suffering of others? Are we not better than that? If not, consider this my abdication.”

  Without another word she turned her back on them and returned through the air to Brighid’s balcony. She could hear Finn coming through behind her, but she ignored him. Maeve had been right. She was on her own now.

  “How is she?” she asked Felix. Brighid’s eyes were closed, but Cedar could see the shallow rise and fall of her chest.

  “Still very weak,” Felix said. “What’s going on?”

  “She’s still bent on this mad plan of proving that we exist,” Finn said from behind her. Jane had followed him through the sidh. She moved to Felix’s side, but stopped about two feet away from him.

  “But—” Felix said.

  “Just…leave her alone,” Finn said. His voice sounded wooden, and he stayed several steps behind her, his eyes on Brighid.

  “Where will you go?” Jane asked in a small voice.

  Cedar didn’t know how to answer. She hadn’t thought this part of the plan through yet. “I’m not sure,” she said. “CNN? The BBC?”

  She looked down at Brighid’s wasted body again. If she was going to go through with her plan, this was the time. She closed her eyes and imagined the local TV station in Halifax—she’d start small. If she tried to transport herself into one of the large networks, she’d probably get jumped by security before she had time to do anything. She spared a glance at Finn, his face a mirror of her own misery. He was looking at her imploringly, but he didn’t speak. She forced herself to look away. She had to do this now, before she lost her nerve. “I’ll be back soon,” she whispered. Then she stepped toward the sidh.

  “Stop.”

  Cedar froze midstep at the sound of Brighid’s frail yet forceful voice. She was trying to pull herself up into a sitting position. “Close it,” she said to Fin
n, who snapped Cedar’s sidh shut at once, his eyes wide and full of hope.

  “You must not do this,” she said, her sunken eyes trained on Cedar. “Fionnbharr is right—it would be madness. It would mean the end of all of you. There is…perhaps another way.”

  They all stared at her, waiting.

  “It is a very slim chance,” she continued. “But you have a knack for achieving the impossible…I know where the jewels are.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Eden could always tell when she was dreaming. Sometimes she dreamed of home—being back in school with her friends, going to the park with Gran, playing in her old bedroom. Those dreams made her sad, and she tried to forget about them. Other times she dreamed of Nuala, and in those ones she was running, always running, through grassy fields and over rough rocks that scraped her hands and knees when she fell. Once, she had a lovely dream in which she was queen of Tír na nÓg; she wore a sparkling silver crown and a ruffled yellow dress and ate cream puffs and custard and all her favorite foods. But the dreams she liked best were the ones in which she went to visit the Elders—thanks to her conversation with Nevan, now she knew that’s who they were. She’d had these dreams ever since she could remember, back before she and Mum and Dad had even come to live in Tír na nÓg. Of all her dreams, they felt the most real. She knew that the Elders were far removed from her, off in the Four Cities, and that her conversations with them were imaginary, but she looked forward to them all the same.

  That was the kind of dream she was having now. She was running down a skinny path between tall white trees, their green leaves high above her. She felt light of body and heart, as if she were floating, being drawn along by some invisible force. And then she saw them—a dozen or so tall, richly dressed men and women, waiting for her, just as they always were.

  “Eden!” one of them cried, a woman with skin so pale Eden could see the blue veins beneath it. But her lips were a deep, dark crimson, and her black eyes were rimmed with red, almost like she’d been crying. But Eden had met her before, and she knew this was not unusual.

  “Hello, Morrigan,” Eden said pleasantly. “Where are the crows today?”

  “Hunting,” the Morrigan answered, “but they will return.”

  “How are you, child?” boomed Manannan mac Lir, thumping her on the back.

  Eden thought for a moment. It took her a while to remember what had been on her mind before she fell asleep. “I’m worried,” she admitted. “I’m glad you’re here—or that I’m here.” She never knew exactly where “here” was in these dreams.

  “Worried?” the Morrigan asked. Her cloak was as black as coal, and it was long enough for the fabric to puddle onto the grass beneath their feet. “What’s the matter? Don’t you enjoy Tír na nÓg?”

  “Oh, I do, very much!” Eden said. “It’s amazing. It’s just…I’m worried about my mum. She’s gone to show herself to the people on Earth, I mean, Ériu.”

  The chatter that had been bubbling in the background fell instantly silent. All the Elders were looking at her, and those who had not yet greeted her gathered in close.

  “Whatever do you mean, child?” asked Teamhair. “Surely you are mistaken. Your mother is queen of the Tuatha Dé Danann. She would never be that foolish.”

  Eden hesitated, not sure of how to respond. “Well, she said she had to make the humans believe in magic again to save the Unseen.”

  There was a heartbeat of shocked silence; then one of the Elders cursed and said, “Brighid!”

  “My mum says she’s sick too.”

  Teamhair let out a long, slow breath. “Brighid got herself into this mess. And now she risks exposing all the Tuatha Dé Danann to save her pride.”

  Eden was confused—obviously there was more going on here than what her mother had told her about. But before she could ask questions, the Dagda knelt down before her, and took hold of both of her hands. She had always liked the Dagda. From her lessons with Nevan, she had learned that he was the oldest of all the Elders—and the most important. But to her, he had always felt more like a grandfather than anything else. She looked into his warm blue eyes and relaxed. Whatever was happening, the Dagda would be able to fix it.

  “Eden, my dear,” he said. “You must convince your mother to not go through with this plan.”

  “Why?” Eden asked. “She said she would be safe.”

  The Dagda shook his head. “It is not as safe as she thinks,” he said. “And if she does this, it would threaten all of our kind.”

  Eden’s eyes grew wide. “Why?” she asked again.

  “Our days of peacefully coexisting with the humans are long over,” he said. “They have changed, almost unrecognizably so. Their technology is greater than we ever imagined they would achieve.”

  “You’re scaring the child,” Teamhair said with a sharp look at the Dagda.

  “She needs to know what is at stake. You know she is more than just a child,” he replied, his eyes still focused on Eden. “I know your mother thinks she is doing what is best, but you must stop her. She thinks she will inspire them to believe in the world of magic once again. But she cannot turn back the hands of time. They will be impressed with her abilities, yes. But they will not worship her. They will enslave her and, if given the opportunity, all the Tuatha Dé Danann. You are the only one who can stop this from happening.”

  Eden pulled back from him, waiting for one of the others to contradict him, to tell her that it wasn’t that bad, that her mother would be safe. But none of them spoke; they just watched her silently. “How can I stop her?” she whispered.

  “Find her. Tell her that you can find the jewels.”

  “I…I can?”

  “Yes, my child. You, and you alone, have the power to end this.”

  Eden stared at them, wanting to believe them, but she didn’t see how it could be true.

  Finally, the Morrigan spoke.

  “Go, child. Do not linger here among the dead.”

  Eden turned and started running, and then sat up straight in her own bed, screaming.

  At Brighid’s words, Finn fell to his knees beside her chair and clasped her hand to his lips. Cedar could hear him whispering, “Thank you, thank you.”

  She felt a strange collision of relief and disbelief. “You know where they are? Where?”

  “I am the only one who knows what really happened,” Brighid said. “When I die, it will be up to you to fix the mess I’ve made. I’m sorry.”

  Cedar pulled a chair close to Brighid’s other side and sat down. “You’re not going to die,” she said through gritted teeth. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Don’t give up hope. You have to believe.” Finn continued to hold Brighid’s hand while Felix and Jane gathered in close, wide-eyed.

  Brighid laughed, which quickly led to a coughing fit. When she recovered, she said, “My misguided belief is what created this disaster in the first place. But I will tell you the truth, while I still can.

  “You know that the Tuatha Dé Danann were defeated by the Milesians and banished to Tír na nÓg. But there were many other magical beings in the world besides us. They had no part in the war against the Milesians, so they stayed on Ériu. They kept to themselves, for the most part, which is how they got the name ‘the Unseen.’ When I decided to settle on Ériu many years later, I found most of them quite charming—and those that weren’t charming were certainly interesting, which was just as good.

  “And then Christianity arrived. At first, it seemed as though things would stay more or less the same. The monks were respectful of the old ways, and many of them even wrote down tales and legends about our people. I, myself, decided to play the part of an abbess for a while so that I could learn about this new religion from the inside. It was fascinating in many ways. But then…something changed. A new group of abbots started to gain power. They feared the old ways and tried to turn the people against them. They started to twist our stories, making all of them point toward their god. They turned the sacred wells that h
ad been built by my sisters into ‘holy wells’ to honor their saints. They called us demons. And they vowed to crush any vestiges of magic that were left in the land. It was a crusade—a genocide. The Unseen drew further into the dark, but these men of the church were relentless in their mission to find and kill them.

  “I had many friends among the Unseen, so I started hearing the terrible stories about what was happening to them. Pixie forests were being torn down. The Merrow and the selkies were being caught in nets and put to the sword. Even the dwarves were being hunted mercilessly.”

  Brighid closed her eyes again, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. Finn smoothed the hair off her forehead with his hand. “It would be easier if…,” she murmured.

  “What is it?” Cedar asked. “What can we do?”

  “I need…a druid,” Brighid whispered. “Is there…a druid you can bring to me?”

  Cedar and the others exchanged long glances. “I’ll go get her,” she said.

  She disappeared through a sidh that brought her directly to Helen’s quarters. Helen was, as always, at her desk.

  “I need you to come with me,” Cedar said, indicating the sidh that still sparkled in the middle of the room.

  “To where?” Helen asked, showing no sign of moving.

  “To see Brighid.”

  Without another word, Helen swept past Cedar, moving through the sidh. When Cedar followed her through it, she was already at Brighid’s side.

  “She’s unconscious,” Felix said. “But before she went under, she said that the druid can connect the two of you, giving you access to her memories.”

  “Like Liam did with Eden and me?” Cedar asked. She wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of entering another dream sleep. Last time, Nuala had almost killed her.

  “And like Maeve did with Eden and Nuala,” Felix reminded her.

  “Can you do it?” Cedar asked Helen.

  “Yes,” the druid replied brusquely.

  “I’ll help you,” Felix said, and Cedar nodded. She would feel better drinking the potion if she knew Felix had helped make it. Brighid’s attendant Vanessa appeared at once, and led the two of them back into the house. Jane sat down next to Brighid and smoothed the blanket wrapped around her legs.