Into the Fire (The Thin Veil)

by Jodi McIsaac

  “Liam, Nuala killed Maeve. She’s going to destroy the world. And you’re okay with that?”

  “This world can take care of itself,” he said, ignoring her first statement. “Or not. Our place is in Tír na nÓg, the land of the gods.”

  “You’re mad,” Cedar spat at him. “How did I ever wish you were my father? My father died protecting humans, and you don’t even care if they’re all slaughtered. All you care about is your precious status.”

  “Let’s not be melodramatic, shall we?” His composure infuriated Cedar, but she felt helpless to do anything. If the druids had been able to overcome Felix, what chance did she have of fighting them? And she had Eden to protect. There were no nearby doors that they could use for escape, and even if they could, she would never leave Finn and the others behind. She looked down at the stone at her feet. Perhaps…

  She froze mid-step as Finn gave a scream of pain. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Liam said. He was pressing a small dagger made of a blue crystal to Finn’s throat. Cedar could see no blood, but Finn was in such agony that his whole body convulsed, and Liam had to hold him in place. She took a step back.

  “Stop. Please, stop. What are you doing to him?” she demanded.

  “I’m torturing him,” he said matter-of-factly, lowering the knife. Finn stopped screaming, though shudders continued to run through his body. “The bite of the leannán sí not only drained him of his power, it increased his sensitivity to pain.” He pressed the knife to Finn’s flesh again.

  “Stop!” Cedar cried out, Finn’s screams tearing through her as if the knife were pressed to her skin rather than his. “He’s done nothing to you!”

  Liam lowered the knife again. “This isn’t about him, Cedar. It’s about you.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “They call this the Mound of Hostages for a reason, my dear. Give us the Lia Fáil and abandon your claim to the throne, and I will spare his life.”

  “No,” Finn said, struggling to raise his head. “Don’t do it, Cedar.”

  Liam laughed and pushed Finn to the ground, where he landed in a heap on the dirt. “Always so noble, aren’t you Fionnbharr?”

  Finn ignored him, his eyes pleading with Cedar’s. “Why are you waiting?” he asked. “Eden, listen to me. You have to escape. You don’t need a door, you just need to believe you can do it without one. I know you can. Cedar… I’m just one person. Think of all of the millions who will die. Go. You must do this.”

  Cedar stared at him in anguish as he lay in the dirt, barely able to lift his own head. She could feel Eden inching away from her, back to the entrance to the mound. They could do it, Cedar realized. They could still take the Lia Fáil back to Tír na nÓg. She could stop Nuala by becoming queen.

  “Cedar, move away from the stone,” Liam said, his voice heavy with hatred. Cedar felt like she was being punched in the stomach every time he spoke. “Eden, I would stop whatever you’re doing if I were you. Your grandmother is dead… you wouldn’t want to be responsible for killing your father too, would you?”

  “Eden, don’t listen to him,” Finn begged. “It’s okay! Just go! Cedar, take the stone!”

  Cedar looked down at the stone, and then back at Finn, his gold-flecked eyes imploring her to leave him. She remembered the first day they met, when he had saved all of her paintings from the fire at the gallery. She remembered the first joyful years they’d spent together and then the years of pain that had followed. He had only just returned to her life, but she had never stopped loving him. And he had never stopped loving her, even though she’d done her best to push him away after his return. She gazed down at him now, lying helpless at the feet of their enemy, and realized that her noble goal of saving the world paled in comparison to her love for Finn.

  She took another step away from the stone.

  “You can have it,” she told Liam. “Give me Finn, and you can have the stone. He’s worth more to me, something I’m sure you could never understand. We will stop Nuala, don’t doubt that for a minute. But not this way.”

  Liam shot a look at the two druids who were standing closest to Cedar, and they ran forward and picked up the stone, struggling beneath its weight. Finn groaned, and Cedar started to run to his side, but Liam held out his hand in her direction. She felt herself freeze in her tracks. She tried to move, but was paralyzed. “Not so fast,” he said.

  “What now?” she snarled. “I gave you what you wanted. Please. Just leave us alone.”

  A slow smile spread over one side of Liam’s face, a smile that sent chills down Cedar’s spine. “You could never give me what I want, Cedar,” he said. “Can you go back in time and stop yourself from being born? Can you bring back the dead?”

  Cedar felt something start to smolder deep inside her. “You want to turn back time? It wouldn’t matter. Maeve—my mother—would never have loved you, even if I hadn’t been born,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m sure she saw you for the snake you are—she wasn’t as blind as I was. It’s your own fault that she didn’t love you. Not mine, not Brogan’s. And certainly not Finn’s. Now let him go.”

  Liam had gone pale, and his face was trembling. “You will regret saying that,” he said, his hand gripped the blue crystal dagger tightly. He reached down and slashed Finn’s chest, making him howl in agony.

  “No!” Cedar screamed, trying to break free of the spell that had immobilized her. “You said you’d let him go if I gave you the stone!”

  “And I’m having a change of heart,” Liam said, slashing at Finn again. “You need to feel what it’s like to lose the one person you’ve ever loved.”

  Suddenly, Cedar could move again. Liam had stopped slashing Finn with the knife and was staring behind Cedar, at the top of the Mound of Hostages, his face twisted with rage. All of the other druids were focused on the same thing, their mouths gaping in shock and confusion. Cedar turned and nearly fainted with relief. Abhartach was standing on top of the mound, dressed in clean clothes and washed from head to toe. His black eyes glinted in the sun and the tattoos covering his skin seemed to shimmer. Standing next to him, her chin raised and her eyes flashing in the light of the druids’ torches, was Brighid. Eden was huddled inside the entrance of the passage, her eyes wide with terror.

  Liam cried out a command, and the druids raised wooden staffs from beneath their cloaks, pointing them at the top of the hill. But Abhartach was faster. He threw up his arms, and the druids all stumbled backward, some of them falling as if they’d been hit by a sudden gust of wind. Their torches snuffed out, and only the moon and stars were left to illuminate the sacred hilltop. Brighid glided down the hill, her long black hair flowing behind her like a cape. Cedar felt someone slam into her, and when she looked down, Eden had wrapped herself around her waist. Together, they ran down to join Brighid, who was kneeling over Finn. Chaos erupted all around them as Abhartach battled the druids.

  “I’ll be okay,” Finn murmured to Brighid, “Felix… and Jane… they need you.” Brighid nodded, her face stoic, and rushed over to where Jane and Felix lay sprawled on the ground. In a show of her incredible strength, she picked them up, one under each arm, and carried them into the mound, delivering a kick to a druid who tried to stop her that sent him soaring several feet in the air.

  Cedar felt the wind pick up around them, as though a tornado had suddenly landed on top of the hill. The stars were blocked by dark clouds that rumbled and raged with thunder. Cedar put her hands under Finn’s arms and tried to pull him toward the mound.

  “I’ll help, Mummy!” Eden said, grabbing one of his arms.

  “No,” Finn said, protesting as loudly as he could manage. He pointed behind Cedar. “Now! Before it’s too late!” The Lia Fáil was lying unprotected in the grass. It had been abandoned after Abhartach commenced his attack. Cedar jumped up and ran to it, crouching to avoid the rocks and branches that were flying through the air. She didn’t see Liam anywhere, but the darkness made it hard to see anything. She r
eached the stone, and then looked back at Finn and Eden, who were huddled together on the ground. “Do it!” Finn yelled. Cedar lifted one foot and then the other and stood on top of the stone.

  And then the world split apart.

  The roar that issued from the stone beneath her feet was far louder than the storm raging all around them. It was a roar of victory that had been contained for millennia. It ripped through the air, above the howling wind, and shook the ground beneath them. And then something happened inside of Cedar that was even more incredible. She had felt it before, on an infinitesimal scale. It was that burning feeling that she felt in the pit of her stomach whenever she felt incensed. She could feel it there now, like a hot coal glowing at the core of her being. But this time, it didn’t stay there. It spread throughout her body, down into her legs and up through her lungs and into her throat. She felt as though flames would shoot out if she opened her mouth. The sensation was almost unbearable, but she willed herself to keep standing on the stone, to let whatever was happening to her run its course. Every nerve and fiber in her body felt like it was on fire, but it was strangely painless. She felt stronger, more energized than she had ever felt in her life. She felt like she could do anything.

  She felt like a goddess.

  She raised her head and took in the scene around her with new eyes. The storm had stopped raging, and the sky was once again an inky black pierced through with bright stars and the glowing moon. Brighid was gaping at her in open-mouthed amazement from the entrance to the passage, Felix and Jane leaning against the entrance stones. Finn and Eden were clutching each other where she had left them. Finn’s eyes were filled with tears.

  “Kill her!”

  Liam stood on top of the Mound of Hostages, a crude wooden sword pressed against Abhartach’s throat. Yew, she suspected. He had known that they were planning to free Abhartach and wouldn’t have come unprepared.

  “Eden,” Cedar said calmly as the druids slowly began to surround her, their black cloaks rustling in the now silent air. “Get your father into the mound.” She hoped the strength her daughter had shown in lifting the stone would serve her well. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Finn raise himself to his knees and start moving, Eden half-dragging him toward the passage.

  She turned in a circle on top of the Lia Fáil and stared down her opponents. She could still feel the fire burning inside her and knew what it meant. She took a deep breath, and then she slowly lifted her arms out from her sides, her fists still clenched. She felt the fire course through her veins and opened her hands.

  White-hot flames erupted from her palms, shooting six feet into the air. She felt no heat, only the release of energy that had been restrained for far too long. The flames roared like blowtorches, and the druids who had been closing in on her took a step back. She pointed her palms toward the ground and created a ring of flames around her. The flames continued to burn in their protective circle even when she lowered her arms. Then she turned back to face Liam, who was still pressing the yew sword to Abhartach’s neck. She narrowed her eyes slightly and focused on the wooden handle of his weapon. It burst into flame, and Liam dropped it with a shout. Abhartach immediately swiveled around and advanced on his opponent.

  Cedar turned away. Let Abhartach deal with Liam; she had a dozen other druids to fight. She felt the ground shake violently beneath her; they were trying to knock her off the stone, and she jumped down before she could fall. Still, her circle of flames held, and none of the druids could breach it. She remembered how quickly they had scattered when Finn unleashed his dragon fire at the castle. She tried to see the faces shadowed by their dark hoods. Who were these nameless enemies who had hunted her and tormented her child? Were they just pawns in Nuala’s game, embittered by centuries of servitude? They were shifting around nervously, staying clear of the flames, seemingly unsure how to proceed without the direction of their leader, who was still engaged in vicious combat with the dwarf. She opened her arms again, spreading them wide, and sent fire sweeping around the druids in a circle, drawing them into a tight huddle.

  She started to shout for Eden, but then she stopped. I should be able to do this, she thought, wondering if she would need a door… or anything at all. She stared at the empty air behind the druids’ prison of white flames. They were screaming from the heat, though the flames had yet to touch them. Cedar concentrated with all of her might. Then suddenly she saw it happen, feeling a sudden rush of power. The air glimmered behind them like a spiderweb thick with dew. She opened the ring of fire so that the sidh she had created was their only exit, and then, moving her hands slowly together, she started to shrink the circle. One by one, the druids were forced through the sidh. When the last one disappeared through the shimmering air, she concentrated hard again, and the sidh closed. Cedar lowered her arms and let out a deep breath, and the fire extinguished in a puff of white smoke. Another wave of her arms, and the ring of fire around her also vanished.

  In the sudden silence she heard a victorious growl. Abhartach was standing over Liam’s limp body on top of the mound. Then she lowered her eyes to the mound’s entrance, where Finn, Eden, Jane, Felix, and Brighid were standing motionless, their faces perfect masks of relief and sheer incredulity.

  “What?” she asked them, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. “You didn’t think I could do it?”

  She heard a loud guffaw from the top of the mound. Abhartach jogged down the side of the hill on his short legs and pounded Cedar on the back, a broad grin stretching across his face. He turned his head and yelled something to Felix and Brighid, who were the only ones who could understand him.

  Felix closed his mouth, which had been hanging open. “He says that you were spectacular,” he translated in a hushed voice. “He’s right.”

  And then Eden rushed toward her, and Cedar caught her up in a spin. “You’ve grown lighter!” Cedar cried.

  “You’ve grown stronger,” came Finn’s voice from beside her. She set Eden down and took his face in her hands.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I am. Brighid is a damn good healer. Way better than you,” he said with a wink to Felix.

  “I have never claimed to be better than Brighid at anything,” Felix said, hugging Cedar.

  Cedar looked at Brighid and Abhartach, who were standing slightly off to the side. “Thank you,” she said. “Your timing was perfect.” Brighid smiled graciously, but she didn’t quite look Cedar in the eye. “What convinced you to come?” Cedar asked. “I thought you didn’t want to get involved?”

  Brighid tossed her sheet of her dark hair behind her shoulder and straightened her chin. “Well, it’s not like I hadn’t already done several things to help you, now, was it? The house seemed very empty after you all left. I wanted to make sure you could come back and visit. Which means I needed to make sure you stayed alive. And obviously, you needed me.”

  Cedar laughed. Brighid’s self-centeredness never ceased to amaze her, but she was grateful that she had come, no matter what her reasons were. Abhartach looked up at Brighid and said something, waving his hands and gesturing in the air. “What’s he saying?” Cedar asked.

  Brighid rolled her eyes. “He is insisting I tell you that he persuaded me to help you. He had a change of heart after he left you by the Giant’s Grave. He thought being a hero might help repair his damaged reputation, and he figured that I might like to join him. We knew each other many years ago, you see. And since I am the most magical being in the world, it was fairly easy for him to find me. Of course, once I realized how easy it was for him to breach my home’s regular defenses, I had to increase security, which is why you were unable to return.”

  “Well, please tell him that I am very grateful for his assistance. And for yours,” Cedar said.

  “So… can someone please explain to me what just happened?” Jane asked. “I knew the stone was supposed to roar, but what was with the crazy white fire? You’re like the freaking Human Torch. How did you do that
?”

  Cedar stared at the stone, which rested innocently in the grass. It seemed completely unremarkable, and yet she had experienced its overwhelming power for herself. “Remember how some of the legends we read claimed that the stone had the power to ‘rejuvenate the king’? And how the stone revealed Utain’s true self? I think that’s what happened. I think it restored me to how I was meant to be. Maybe it was the only thing that could break the spell that Kier and Maeve used to give me the gift of humanity.”

  “I can hear you now,” Finn said. “Your Lýra. It’s beautiful.” Cedar paused, and realized that she could hear his too. A faint musical signature emanated from Eden, Finn, Felix, and Brighid. It sounded so natural that she wondered how she’d never heard it before.

  “Well, I think it’s dreadful,” Jane said with a smile that belied her words. “Now I’m really the only human here.” She nudged Felix in the ribs with her elbow. “Can’t you bite me or something and turn me into a Tuatha Dé Danann?”

  Cedar laughed. “I don’t think it works that way. But tell me, what happened to you guys? When we went into the passage everything was fine, and then we came out, and… it wasn’t.”

  “That’s a mild understatement,” Finn muttered.

  “It happened quickly,” Felix said, staring at the ground. “They were already here, waiting for us—we just couldn’t see them. Finn had already been weakened by the leannán sí, so he couldn’t fight back or transform. And they were targeting Jane, so I had to stay close to her.”

  “They were targeting me for that very reason,” Jane said. “You’d have been able to defend yourself otherwise.”

  “It wasn’t enough,” Felix said, his eyes haunted. “You could have died.” The way he looked at Jane made Cedar blush. She felt as though she were intruding on a very private exchange.