Veil of Shadows

by Lindsay

  “You fulfilled the prophecy,” her mother said gently. “Years before your birth, I learned of it.

  I thought I might be the one, but I never truly understood it. Neither did Mabb, who thought the same. In you, the Lightworld and the Darkworld are mingled. You are Fae, and you are mortal.”

  “Your mother is Fae, your father a messenger of the One God,” the Morrigan told her. “All that is left is the spark of the Divine, and you can unite them all. That is the gift I give to you now, Cerridwen. If you will accept it.”

  She nodded mutely, unsure if what happened was a dream, the last fevered fantasies of her dying brain.

  “Then go now. And do not squander this gift.” The Morrigan reached out and touched Cerridwen"s forehead. “Go, now.”

  She fell back to the ground, back into the constricting confines of her crushed body. The light sucked away at the edges, and she struggled to open her eyes. Cedric knelt above her. He tried to heal her, to send his energy into her. The grief, the heartache, she had seen too much of it.

  She closed her eyes, and breathed her last.

  Twenty

  H er eyes opened, just before the end. Cedric pushed, with all his might, all the energy that he could muster. He was too badly injured, as was she.

  He would live. She would not. He would be alone again.

  Her eyes slid closed. “No!” he pleaded, shook her by the shoulders. “No, no!”

  He barely gave a thought to the battle around him as he stared down at her lifeless body, other than to hope they killed him, and quickly, before the disbelief wore off and gave way to the pain he would feel. He could not bear to feel it over her.

  The sounds of battle slowed, then ceased, as he stared at her closed eyes. He willed them to open, willed her to come back to life, though he knew it would be impossible. When he had lifted her in his arms, she had been heavy and liquid, a bag of blood and ruined bones.

  He did not know why she had come onto the field. He did not care why. He only wished he could take the moment back, spot her before the blast had killed her.

  A hand touched his shoulder, the touch light, radiating healing warmth. He brushed it aside.

  “I do not want healing. Go back to the battle.”

  The hand stayed. He looked up.

  She stood over him. For a moment he did not recognize her. She glowed, a faint halo of light around her skin. Her white gown looked dim by comparison. Her copper hair fell in long waves that spilled over her shoulders. She had no wings, no antennae. For a horrified moment, he thought she might be Human.

  He turned back to the body he held in his arms, watched it shrivel and flake away into autumn leaves and black feathers. When he looked back to her, he asked, “Is this real?”

  “It is real.” She looked out to the battle that had paused all around them. Faeries and Humans on both sides stared, openmouthed, unable to continue fighting against one another. “I have seen the Astral. And I can take you back there!”

  A few Faeries tossed their weapons aside and began shambling toward her, as she continued,

  “It is not open only to the Fae. Any Human, any of you who wish to, may go. You do not need to pledge an oath to me. You do not need to die. You do not need to fight anymore!

  Come if you will. Go, if you must.”

  Humans, including a few Enforcers, drifted down the slope of the field.

  She looked down at the bull, where it lay in the black pool of its life blood. A wrinkle of pain formed between her eyes as she stared down at it. She knelt, so close Cedric could touch her, if he dared, but he did not, and touched her fingertips to the blood. A spark of light from her fingertips illuminated the surface, painted it a reflective gray. Water. She turned the blood to water, into a deep pool that reflected the sky. The bull shifted, and sank below the surface.

  The Fae that had come to the edge stepped back.

  “This is the way,” she told them. “Through here, you will find your Astral home. Once you have gone, you cannot return. Not yet. The Veil is not strong enough.”

  “What about our families?” one Human asked. Another shouted, “My brother is dead! What about him?”

  “The dead have already gone before you. And this is not your only chance. If you choose to stay here, you may return to the Astral at another time.” She looked up to the line of tanks and Human vehicles. “You may come, at any time. All it takes is a soul willing to believe that we can share this physical Earth with the planes that overlap it. If you can find it in your heart to abandon any wishes for vengeance and destruction, you can come to me, and I will lead you home.”

  It was Cerridwen, but it was not her. The voice she spoke with sounded like her, but the confidence, the faith…it was as if she were someone else entirely.

  He had still lost her.

  The Fae filed into the pool, one after another. They sank below the water with expressions of gratitude, weariness, joy. The Humans, though, touched the water with awe. They gripped Cerridwen"s hands and thanked her.

  The Human Enforcers who still lined the hill seemed paralyzed in the face of real magic. But it would not last. Hesitantly, Cedric touched the hem of her garment, and she looked down.

  “Is it safe to be here, with them?” he asked, motioning to the hilltop.

  She raised her eyes to them, sadness overwhelming her expression. “No. It is not. But perhaps they will grant us the boon of more time. But I do not see…” She scanned the horizon, then called out, “Danae! Danae, show yourself.”

  The door of one of the Human vehicles opened, and the familiar form of the traitor stepped out.

  Cedric reached for his sword, and Cerridwen put her hand on his shoulder. “Stay your hand.

  We will not fight her.”

  The clouds overhead had darkened with the dying of the day, and Danae"s orange dress stood out against the hill like a fire against the green. She grew closer, eyes hard as she took in the sight of Cerridwen. When she was close enough to be heard, she called, “Shall I come nearer, so that you can kill me?”

  “If I wanted you dead,” Cerridwen said, her voice echoing through the field, “I could do it from here.”

  Danae stepped to the edge of the pool. “Is this a trick?”

  “This is a gift,” Cerridwen told her. “More than you deserve. Take it, and do not show your face to me, ever.”

  Danae hesitated. “Why do you not kill me?”

  “Because I know when to fight,” Cerridwen said.

  Humbled, Danae lowered her head and dipped one foot into the water. She stopped, looked up with a gasp. “I only wanted what was best for them! I only wanted—”

  “You wanted glory,” Cerridwen said coolly. “That is why you stand in your place, and I in mine.”

  With a breath that sounded like a sob, Danae sank below the surface of the water. The rest of the Humans that stood around them, those who would not go in, lifted their weapons, prepared to continue the fight.

  “No!” Cerridwen ordered. “If you wish to live, return to your homes. Show the others that we have no quarrel with them.” Reluctantly, they tossed down their weapons, turned their backs to the Faeries, climbed into their vehicles and drove away.

  Cedric watched them go, and watched the Fae turn, as well. “They gave up,” he said, laughing in disbelief. “They gave up.”

  “They will return,” Cerridwen said, her eyes, gray as the sky, following their retreat. “When the shock has worn off, when they realize what they have done, they will return.”

  He stood on numb legs. The feeling of her dead body still haunted his arms. He longed to reach for her. He did not. She gazed at him, the glow around her dimming.

  “You do not have to stay. You can go. I saw my mother, and Malachi. They were whole, on the Astral Plane.” She looked down. “It was beautiful there.”

  “It looks the same as this place.” He shrugged. “Without the corpses and the death.”

  Cerridwen"s eyes met his. It should have been a shock to hi
m, to gaze into the eyes of a Goddess, but looking at her had always had that effect on him. “Go. The Astral is your true home. I cannot ask you to stay.”

  He took a shuddering breath. “You do not need to ask. I will never leave your side.”

  They embraced, and she fell as easily into his arms as she had when she had not been divine.

  It was the same Cerridwen, the same that he had loved. He kissed her, touched her, to remind himself that this was real.

  “There is so much left to do,” she said, stepping back. “So many more to save, Fae and Human.”

  “You will not do it alone.” He laced his fingers with hers. “And you cannot do it all tonight.

  Come home,” he urged her. “Come home with me.”

  She nodded and looked to the sky. “I am home,” she said, turning to the forest and squeezing his hand. “Wherever I go, I am home.”

  The End