Children of the Veil (Aisling Chronicles)

by Colleen Halverson

  “Look, I think it’s a…” Eamonn scratched his head. “I think Anny has built a tesseract.”

  I shook my head. “A tesser-what?”

  “A tesseract.”

  “Like in The Avengers?”

  Eamonn blinked. “Sorry?”

  “You know, Asgard? Thor?”

  “I’m sorry, what does Norse mythology have to do with this?”

  I swallowed back the curse in my throat and spluttered, pointing at the cubes. “Okay, never mind. Just. What the fuck is that thing?”

  He scratched his head. “It’s, well, it’s a regular 4-polytope designed to allow inter-dimensional travel. I think it is what’s powering the portal. It’s…it’s brilliant.”

  “Okay, great.” I looked around the small chamber. “Now help me find something to shatter the glass.”

  “No!” he shouted, squeezing between me and the large cube, his palms raised. “Listen. Your mom is in the fourth dimension. The tesseract brings together two different dimensional planes into one. What you’re seeing is an optical illusion. It’s what your consciousness will let you see. If you break this glass”—Eamonn gestured to the wall of the cube—“she’ll be lost to you forever.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” I said through gritted teeth, trying to move past him.

  Eamonn grabbed my shoulders. “You need to travel into the hypercube.”

  “The what?”

  “The smaller cube. You need to use your aisling powers and travel into the fourth dimension to get her back.”

  “I don’t understand—”

  Eamonn gave my shoulders a gentle shake. “We don’t have time for a physics lesson. You need to trust me.”

  I stared up into his wide hazel eyes, the line of sweat beading on his forehead. Blowing my hair out of my eyes, I nodded and turned around to face the tesseract. I didn’t know Eamonn very well, but I knew he could give Stephen Hawking a run for his money even on his worst day. I glanced back at my mother floating in the water. I could travel inside there, grab her, and leave, no problem, but if this were inter-dimensional travel, that meant there was no telling what I would find in there. My gaze drifted back to the Druid.

  “Will you come with me?”

  Eamonn closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “This is such a bad idea.”

  “Are you coming or not?” I barked.

  His eyes snapped open with new-found determination. “The fourth dimension isn’t like ours. The rules will be different. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to find your mother.”

  “I have to take that chance!”

  He nodded, biting his lip. “Finn is going to kill me.”

  I took his hand. “Are you ready?”

  He squeezed my fingers. “Stay by me and don’t let go no matter what. We don’t know what’s in there.”

  Calming the rising panic in my chest, I squared my shoulders, focusing my powers. Clinging hard to Eamonn, I threw my energy over him and set a course for inside the hypercube or whatever the hell thing contained my mother.

  When I opened my eyes again, we stood in the Great Hall of Teamhair. And yet I knew it wasn’t the Great Hall at all. It was empty and the air felt too thick and still, a heavy silence surrounding us. Dark clouds billowed on the horizon beyond the towering windows, the cold air stinging my skin. I glanced at Eamonn and saw his púca disguise had disappeared.

  “Why are we in Teamhair?” As soon as I opened my mouth, a thousand echoes spilled from my lips, and memories of my past experiences flashed before me like a skipping record. At one moment, I was standing there holding Eamonn’s hand, asking the question, and the next minute I was back in the past, every step I had ever taken in the Great Hall a new fragment of my reality.

  “What the hell?” I exclaimed, and again the question reverberated out in strange echoes. I turned back to Eamonn, but it was like every movement of my head produced a thousand heads, one movement of my arm, a thousand arms, and they all exploded like a kaleidoscope, moving in crazy, disparate directions.

  I jumped back, letting go of Eamonn’s hand, and a thousand more Elizabeths jumped back with me, while more hopped forward through space.

  “Elizabeth!” Eamonn screamed, lunging toward me, but it was like he moved through a hall of mirrors, his one hand turning to an infinite number of hands reaching out to me.

  I scrambled away, and a thousand more of me crab-walked in infinite directions. “Holy shit!” And they all cursed, the echoes hurting my ears.

  Through the blur of movement and sound, Eamonn’s voice reverberated through my ears. He shouted and gestured with his hands, all of his fingers blending together like tracers across the ceiling.

  And then it stopped. The Great Hall was still again.

  I gasped, grabbing at my chest and trying to steady my pounding heartbeat. “What the fuck was that?”

  Eamonn walked over to me and extended a hand to help me up. A single hand. I grasped on to it gratefully.

  “It should be okay now. I improvised a spell to allow us to focus three-dimensionally, like we’re used to.”

  “What do you mean, like we’re used to?”

  “Well,” he began, “We live in a three dimensional world—we see height, length, depth. In a fourth dimensional world, you see—”

  “Fucking everything?” I interjected, looking at my hands again and making sure they were one.

  “Yes. Fucking everything.” Eamonn playfully mocked my American accent. “You see the possibilities of all things, every thought, every movement, every step. It’s like existing in infinity. Your past, your present, and everything you have ever imagined is all in one place at once.”

  “Seriously?” I massaged my temples, my head aching. “That’s crazy.”

  Eamonn shrugged. “I’ve only read about it in theory, but yes. It’s crazy.”

  I looked around the cold marble halls, and a deep feeling of dread overcame me. The hall was as I remember it, but the space radiated with some dark power, as if we had entered some bizarro universe, the graceful columns sinister impersonations of the actual castle.

  “So why are we in Teamhair?” I said. “Is this Teamhair?”

  “No. It’s…” Eamonn’s gaze drifted across the ceiling. “Your mother’s energy must have brought us here. This must be her…her cage.”

  “Her cage?”

  Eamonn rested his palm on the back of his neck, a wearied look passing over his face. “Anny Black must have created an energy pool that traps your mother in this specific space, and the castle is just what her mind manifests as a result. She must be somewhere within these walls.”

  I let out a long sigh and started for the door. “Energy pool. Right. Well. Let’s get started.”

  Eamonn placed a hand on my shoulder. “We need to be careful. This is Teamhair, but it’s also constructed out of your mother’s subconscious. That means all her thoughts, her hopes…her fears…anything could be behind that door. We don’t know what lurks in here.”

  I ground my fist into my palm, my aisling powers tingling. “I’m not afraid.”

  “It’s not just that…” Eamonn trailed off.

  I whirled on him. “What?”

  “I may have cast a spell to keep the kaleidoscope effect away, but…”

  “But what, Eamonn.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Spit it out.”

  “The rules of the fourth dimension are still in effect. You need to watch what you say, watch what you think.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or your thoughts might materialize in this dimension.”

  I paused. “But they’re just…thoughts…right? They can’t hurt you.”

  “I…I don’t know, Elizabeth.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  He threw his hands in the air. “This is the first time I’ve ever been to the fourth dimension, all right? I don’t know everything!”

  I shrank away from him. “I’m sorry. This is just really freaking me out.”r />
  Eamonn’s face fell, and he patted me on the arm. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to shout. I know it is hard to wrap one’s head around.”

  I nodded and pointed to the main door of the hall. “So, shall we see what’s behind door number one?”

  “’Tis as good a place to start as any.”

  Our steps echoed as we walked through the hall. Eamonn and I grabbed the ornate handle to the door, and both of us pulled with all our might. While the hall had been cold and gray, sunlight streamed through the next room we entered. It was certainly not the layout of the Teamhair I knew, but some other part of the castle. It looked like a nursery with toys and dolls scattered on the floor. A small ornate bed stood by the window, and a child jumped on the mattress, giggling hysterically. She was probably about four years old, with dark curls and big green eyes, and I recognized her immediately as a younger version of my mother. She stared right at us, but she didn’t seem to acknowledge us at all.

  A door opened and Queen Alannah entered, her hair glowing in the morning sunlight.

  “Where is your nurse?” she scolded, dragging my mother off the bed. “You need to get dressed this instant!”

  Alannah mumbled angrily to herself as she kicked a wooden frog away with her foot and rummaged through a drawer. “I don’t know why Amergin has to come here,” she said. “Such a waste of time…”

  Young Niamh walked over to the wooden frog Alannah had so brutally pushed aside and burst into tears. She grabbed a piece of the toy and threw it at her mother. Alannah rushed up to the young child and slapped her so hard that she flew into a wall. Alannah screamed something unintelligible about the nurse and fled the room, slamming the door. Instinctively, I went to intervene, but Eamonn grabbed my arm.

  “Don’t disturb the memory,” he said. “Who knows what would happen to the cage. It could morph into something else. Something even worse.”

  I watched helplessly as Niamh slinked away from the corner, holding her flaming cheek. She climbed onto the balcony, and I followed, watching her small form climb up the vines lining the castle walls.

  “Come on!” I called to Eamonn, not wanting to lose my mother. I grabbed hold of the thick vines and pulled myself up, with Eamonn right behind me.

  Niamh climbed into a small window high above, and Eamonn and I followed her, stumbling into a small library. It seemed strangely familiar, and I realized after a few moments this was Orin’s library. Young Niamh ran through the stacks and found the dearg-dubh seated at a desk, writing. Yet, it was not the Orin I knew, but a younger version of him, maybe about age ten. His white-blond hair grazed his shoulders, and he flashed his strange translucent eyes at Niamh as she walked up to him.

  “Hi, little mouse.” His pale, chiseled face broke into a smile.

  Niamh’s lips quivered, and Orin held out his arms to her. She collapsed inside his embrace.

  “It’s all right.” He smoothed her brown curls away from her tear-stained face. Orin kissed the crown of her head and then he lifted his head, staring straight at me.

  “Who is that?” He pointed at us, and his features darkened, twisting and distorting to reveal Anny Black’s hideous face.

  Eamonn and I shared a shocked glance, paralyzed. I glanced back at Niamh, but she was older now, my mom as I knew her.

  She stood up, her eyes widening. “Elizabeth?”

  “Mom…?”

  With a panicked look, she lunged toward me. But the room turned upside down, and I scrambled to hold onto something. A bookcase, a desk. But everything toppled around us, darkness shrouding our falling forms. Eamonn grabbed my hand and we plunged into darkness, a suffocating gust of wind swallowing our screams.

  Then the world righted again, and I reached out to feel cool blades of grass between my fingers. I opened my eyes again, and Eamonn and I sat on the bank of a babbling stream, the spires of Teamhair rising up in the distance. Dark shadows crept into my peripheral vision, and the air was heavy and thick, the sinking feeling in my chest deepening.

  “What happened?” I whispered, shielding my eyes from the dazzling sunlight.

  “I do not know,” he said. “Maybe the prison tried to cast us out. It’s hard to say.”

  I looked around, breathing in the stale air, the white clouds as large as mountains moving through the sky. The sound of tinkling laughter floated toward us, and I scrambled to my feet, darting toward the sound.

  “Try again, Niamh,” I heard Orin’s voice say excitedly. “I know you can do it.”

  “Do I have to?” Niamh whined. “Let’s go pick berries in the woods!”

  “You know we cannot,” Orin said. “Your father has forbidden everyone from entering the forest.”

  Eamonn and I crouched behind some bushes and watched them. Niamh and Orin were older now, teenagers, maybe. Niamh lay sprawled on the grass, her graceful fingers weaving a ring of daisies. Orin studied her, his clear eyes laced with an aching sadness.

  “Come on, Niamh.” He leaned toward her. “You need to practice.”

  “Oh, Orin, stop being so bossy!” She threw the daisy chain at him, and it landed unceremoniously across his forehead. “What’s the rush?”

  He looked up as the white petals dusted his black cloak. He took Niamh’s hand and settled the chain on the crown of her head. She giggled, looking up at him with big green eyes.

  “When you master your aisling powers,” he whispered, “we can go anywhere. We shall be free of Tír na nÓg forever.”

  Niamh looked down, smoothing an invisible wrinkle in her dress. “But they will find us…the Fianna…”

  “The Fianna be damned!” Orin clenched her fingers in his, and Niamh shrank away, peeling her hand from his.

  The dearg-dubh swallowed and he reached out for her, stroking her cheek. “You will be Queen of the Realms, and I will be your devoted servant. Forever.”

  Niamh laughed, swinging her hair over her shoulder. She threw her daisy chain in the stream and hiked up her skirts, peering down into the rushing water. “Oh, look, Orin! The river sprites are out today. Hallo there!” She danced in the stream, playing with the sparkling creatures shimmering beneath the surface.

  Orin stared at her, folding his knees close to his chest.

  A dark shadow caught the corner of my eye, and I turned and gasped.

  Lorcan stood in a copse of trees, his black cloak snapping through the breeze. A smile broke through his veiny gray face from beneath the hood.

  My chest tightened, and I stumbled back. The darkness deepened, its tendrils grazing against my feet, stroking at my temples.

  Eamonn caught my arm. “What is it?”

  “Do you see him?” I whimpered.

  “Who?”

  “I have to get out of here.” I backed away, blinking hard, trying to shake the vision of Lorcan lurking in the forest.

  He snapped forward, his cloak whipping around Orin and my mother until it transformed into a giant creeping shadow.

  “Elizabeth? What is it?”

  My body shook with violent spasms, and I clenched my fists, trying to summon my powers.

  “It’s not real,” Eamonn cried, grasping onto my trembling hand. “It’s not real!”

  The darkness consumed everything, and I closed my eyes, raising my hands to my face with a scream.

  “Elizabeth, no!”

  When I opened them again, we stood in a silent graveyard, mist collecting at our feet. An old church loomed over us, and thunder echoed across the black sky above.

  The door of the church boomed open, and Aodhan emerged through the threshold, my mother wrapped tight in his arms. Her shoulders shook, and she babbled wildly, whimpering and crying as she tightened her hold around Aodhan’s neck. More Tuatha Dé Danann soldiers followed him, and they pulled Lorcan behind them, his body crisscrossed with gemel.

  Orin raced out of the woods in a blur of shadows and pale white skin. “Niamh!”

  He made to pull her out of Aodhan’s arms, and she shrieked, clutching onto the General�
��s chest.

  “Stay away from me!” she screamed at Orin. “This is your fault.”

  “Niamh…” Orin breathed, his chest deflating, the light in his eyes fading. He reached out a hand to her, but Aodhan had already turned away.

  “Niamh, I’m sorry!” he cried after her. “I’m sorry!”

  Eamonn and I shared a glance, and we followed the Tuatha Dé Danann into the woods. As soon as we stepped inside, though, the air felt different, electric and crackling. The dew of morning had settled on the leaves, and a pale sun hovered on the horizon.

  “Where are we now?” I stepped through the bracken, moving a branch away from my face.

  Eamonn shook his head. “Some place in your mother’s subconscious.”

  The pounding of horse hooves thundered in the distance, and Eamonn and I broke into a run, seeking out the sound. A figure ran past us in a light blue dress, and I chased after her. I recognized that dress. It was like the dress I had worn to marry Lord Bres.

  “Mom!” I called, but she kept running, her brown hair trailing her. “Stop!”

  She darted through the woods, and the horses gained on us. Blood roared in my ears, and I glanced back, the horses closer now, their black mouths dripping with froth, their large teeth gnashing at our heels, glistening hides dripping with sweat.

  “Can we die in the fourth dimension?” I screamed.

  “I would rather not find out!” Eamonn grabbed my hand and pulled me to a clearing ahead.

  We exploded through the bushes to the edge of a cliff. Rocks and debris fell beneath our feet, the ground breaking apart. Instead of a crevice, we tore through a block of shadows, a rushing wind filling my ears.

  “What’s happening?” I screamed, but the darkness had already consumed us.

  When I opened my eyes again, we stood in the doorway of an old apartment, scratched wood floors stretching out before us. The bubbling bass line of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” burst through the smoky room, the sound reverberating through my chest.

  I peered through the smoke to find my mother dancing on top of a coffee table and pursing her lips to take a toke off a joint. Her long white hippie dress billowed around her ankles, big black Doc Martens peeking out from under the hem. In true Tuatha Dé Danann fashion, her skin shimmered in the otherwise dreary light of the rundown apartment. British accents shouted and sang as beer and wine sloshed around the room, and Malachy stood below her, laughing and grabbing at the joint in her hands. Niamh twirled with a high giggle, tumbling to the floor and right into the arms of James Tanner, my father.