Echoes from the Veil

by Colleen Halverson

  “The legendary cattle raids…” I whispered. The Táin Bó Cúailnge was an ancient Irish legend I had pored over many times in graduate school, and it definitely remained one of my favorites. Basically, the story is this. A badass queen named Maeve gets jealous of this King Conchobar and his magical bull. Also, he sexually assaulted her, so she was mad as hell about that, too, for good reason. She steals his bull, but not after having one of her many warrior boyfriends defeat the legendary Celtic demigod Cuchulainn. Eventually, she loses the bull and the big battle, but not before placing her mark on history as one badass bitch you don’t fuck with.

  “Yes,” Morven replied. “The Morrígan was able to take the form of the bull. That’s why Maeve coveted it so much. All that power…”

  “But those events happened several millennia ago,” I said. “How could her blood be here? Now? Where did the Fir Bolgs find it?”

  “That is the question, isn’t it?” Morven sighed. “Danu imprisoned the Morrígan from this plane of existence long ago. The Morrígan became pure spirit. Yet, during the age of heroes, she found a way to take physical form, placing her magical essence in the form of that bull.”

  “Donn Cúailnge,” I said. “The Brown Bull of Cooley. The bull that began the Ulster Cycle.” I laughed out loud. “I always thought it was so silly. All that fighting for a bull.”

  Morven nodded. “Aye. But a bull that gives you unlimited power? One single drop of its blood turns its possessor into a veritable god. That is certainly worth fighting for.”

  “How did the Fir Bolgs get their hands on it?” Eamonn asked.

  I leaned toward Finn. “The Fianna worship the Morrígan. Could it be they had a vial of blood lying around?”

  He took a sip of tea and shook his head. “I was a part of all the inner workings of the Fianna. If the Fianna possessed such a powerful substance, I would have known.”

  “Could it be any Fianna blood? Could it possess some kind of magic?”

  Eamonn waved the question away. “I’ve compared Grainne’s blood with what’s in the Fir Bolgs’ weapons. They have some similarities, but they’re definitely very different.”

  Morven pointed at the device in my hand. “Whatever is in there is pure Morrígan. The Fir Bolgs have found the substance from so many centuries ago and used it to create a weapon that calls to her power. They are fools to unleash such a force. No one can control it.”

  I glanced down at the device, so small in my hand. “I was hoping the black hole was a coincidence.”

  “I am afraid not.” Morven leaned back in his chair. “The ancients told of a great war between the Morrígan and Danu that almost destroyed the world. It seems we are at war again.”

  My fingers clutched the device, the smooth metal edges biting into my skin. “Finn’s right. We need to destroy it.”

  “The only thing that will destroy it is the Morrígan’s essence itself,” Morven said. “I can do it, but it will take deep magic to dismantle such a creation.”

  “So we need to get ahold of the Morrígan blood,” I said, mentally checking boxes. “It’s probably being stored at some government facility, wherever they’re manufacturing the weapons.”

  “But where?” Finn asked. “How? Even with your Aisling powers, you can’t just teleport in and snatch it. It will be heavily guarded. We will need information. Intel.”

  “I can ask my dad,” I said, my cheeks growing hot. “He probably knows something about it.”

  Finn frowned. “Probably isn’t enough. We need to act fast. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “If only we had a time machine,” Eamonn said, shaking his head. “We could go back in time and steal some blood from that bull, the Donn Cúailnge.”

  “That’s not helpful,” I snapped, shooting to my feet and pacing the floor.

  Morven cleared his throat. “Actually, we do have a time machine.”

  I whirled on him. “What are you talking about?”

  The Red Druid opened his arms wide. “We have a time machine.”

  I glanced around, throwing my hands in the air. “Where?”

  “It’s you, Elizabeth.”

  Chapter Six

  My mouth fell open. “Shut up.”

  Morven pointed at me. “You have the gift of the Aisling. You have the ability to control space and time. You can travel to the past.”

  I spluttered. “But I’ve never done that before.”

  “Which doesn’t make it impossible,” Morven said.

  Finn bolted to standing. “This is insane. No one is traveling through time.”

  Morven ignored him, drawing closer. “You can do this. I have seen Aislings sift time before.”

  “But I’ll need training,” I insisted. “That will take forever.”

  “Not if I assist you. Give you a magical boost, if you will.” His eyes sparkled, the runes on his cheeks bright red as his face flushed with excitement.

  “Stop it,” Finn said in a firm voice. “Both of you. This is absurd.”

  I paused, glancing over at Finn, and we locked gazes. He gave me a pointed stare, and I sighed.

  “Finn’s right.” I stood up, dropping the device in my pocket with a long exhale, patting my pocket to ensure it was safe. “It’s absurd. Even if I could manage to get back in time, how would I get back?”

  Morven smiled. “As I said, I have many spells that could aid you in this quest, but as an Aisling, you have the power. Don’t underestimate yourself.”

  I rested my hand on my hip, drawing back. “I’m not underestimating myself. I just—”

  “Where else would you find the essence of a goddess?” Morven stalked toward me. “In some sterile facility? Do you think your father would have a little vial lying around in his living room?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. He might?”

  My father had little more than a coffeemaker and some plates that were old in the Ford administration. Essence le Morrígan would not be something someone just keeps on a shelf.

  Morven frowned. “Are you prepared to gamble the fate of the universe on that? How long do you have, Princess? How long before the sky rents open and all chaos is let loose upon the world?”

  I waved my hands in front of me, my heart beating wildly against my rib cage. “Look, I didn’t ask for any of this!”

  “And yet fate calls to you,” Morven said, hanging his head and folding his hands in his robes.

  Finn grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the exit. “She’s not going.”

  I wrenched my hand away, my voice rising in a panic. “Do you have a better idea?”

  “There are other ways!” Finn cried. “We can take Teamhair. Force their leader to tell us how to destroy the device.”

  “I doubt even the Fir Bolgs know where the Morrígan blood lies,” I said. “And in the meantime, if this thing goes off, or the universe explodes, we’re all done for.”

  Eamonn cleared his throat. “The Morrígan is treacherous. Perhaps even the Fir Bolgs and the Americans cannot see how she’s interfering. We could search for a hundred years and never find the source.”

  “Or we could at least try,” Finn said, his eyes widening, arms open wide. “We do not have to go on some insane mission through time. Through time?” he spluttered, shaking his head. “What if she ends up in another century? What if she doesn’t make it at all?”

  Morven’s eyes turned jet black. “I can get her there.”

  Finn paced the floor, his neck muscles wound tightly. “And let’s not even mention what would happen if she pops into a den of bloodthirsty Celts!”

  I rounded on him. “Better Celts than a den of Fir Bolgs bearing sparkly M16s.”

  He whirled, his face a bright shade of red. “I cannot believe you are entertaining this.”

  I threw my hands in the air and let out a small, frustrated cry. “
I can’t believe it, either, but I don’t see any other way. Maybe…maybe it can buy us some time.”

  Finn flashed me an exhausted stare.

  “No, hear me out,” I said. “If I go back to find the Morrígan’s blood, I have time. If Morven can get me close to Ireland, to that specific time and place, I can get what we need. Otherwise, a mission to a highly guarded, twenty-first-century facility? It would take weeks to plan. Months. Hell, we haven’t even managed to take Teamhair yet.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Finn snapped.

  I drew back, stunned as if he had slapped me.

  His face fell, and he reached for me. “Elizabeth, I’m sorry.”

  I waved him away, turning toward Morven. “Ok.”

  Finn shoved his way in front of me. “Then I’m going with you.”

  Morven shook his head. “It can only be Elizabeth. The magic won’t work for two people. She’s the catalyst.”

  My heart stopped for a moment. Throughout all this, I had assumed Finn would travel with me and we would go on this quest together. Traveling back to the Bronze Age and facing down a magical bull on my own did seem pretty absurd, but our options remained limited. Who knows how long it would take us to find this secret ingredient for dismantling this Doomsday device? We couldn’t just ignore the fact it was on a timer and the universe was about to break apart. Time travel had its risks, but I was willing to take it, as long as it meant no one had to die trying to break into a secret lab. I had been a prisoner in one of those labs before, and I refused to go back.

  I swallowed hard and stared down at the flagstones, shifting my feet. “It will be fine. I’ll go in, tranquilize the beast, get a sample. Get out.”

  Morven wandered to a shelf and began pulling down strange canisters and bottles. “We’ll make sure you return right to this moment. We’ll have the device destroyed by sunrise tomorrow.”

  Finn let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, I—”

  I cupped his cheek and placed my thumb over his full lips. “I know.”

  He shook his head. “But there are thousands of Ulstermen guarding that bull. You know the story. You know its players. It’s too risky.”

  “Yes, it’s risky.” I gave him a small kiss. “But I can do this.”

  We locked eyes for a moment, and I sank into the steadiness of his gaze. When I fell asleep last night, the way had been clear. Now, darker forces had taken root in this dimension, threatening to throw us all into chaos. I longed to cling to Finn, to tear at his clothes and bury my face into his chest so as to breathe in his strength, his clarity. But time was slipping away, and I had to find the calm in myself to endure whatever lay ahead.

  I dug my hand in my pocket and brought out the device, passing it on to Finn.

  “Guard it.” I nodded toward Morven and Eamonn, busily uncorking potions and rifling through tomes. “And guard them.”

  Finn gave me a solemn stare. Behind us, Morven darted around the room, stuffing supplies in a rucksack. With a sudden blur of movement, he grabbed my arm and pulled me close to him, crushing me against his chest.

  “Come back to me,” he whispered into my hair.

  “I will,” I replied.

  “And don’t take stupid chances. Take your time to make a plan. Don’t rush in. You always—”

  I drew away, raised my finger, and placed it against his lips. “Stop.”

  His face fell, and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I’m doing it again.”

  “Trust me,” I said. “I’ll be back before you know it. In the blink of an eye.”

  Morven cleared his throat, and I turned away. The Druid passed a stuffed rucksack to me, and I readjusted my spear as I shoved the straps over my shoulders.

  “There’s some food and water in there. Some matches just in case,” Morven said. “I made you a dart for the bull. Just stick it into its haunches and a sleeping draught will take instant effect. There’s also a knife and several vials for storing the sample.”

  I adjusted the rucksack and looked up at the Druid. “Are you forgetting something?”

  He stared at me blankly.

  “The time travel?”

  Morven laughed and clutched his chest. “Oh, yes. Quite.” He wandered deep into the shadows of his shop, and several loud crashes and bangs echoed through the chamber. Finn glanced at me warily, taking my hand.

  “I wish I could go with you,” he said. “I hate everything about this.”

  I squeezed his fingers and lifted them up to my mouth. “I’ll be quick. I promise. You’ll barely know I’m gone.”

  He let out a long exhale, his face falling. “There was something I wanted to tell you, and it’s never been a good time, so I might as well just ask you now.”

  “Ask me what?”

  Finn opened his mouth to say something, but Morven burst out the back end of the shop, covered in dust.

  “Sorry about that.” He edged in front of Finn and placed something small and cool in my hand.

  When I opened my hand, I peered at the tiny figurine lying there. Someone had once carved it to be an animal, but it was so worn away as to be indeterminate.

  “It’s a bull, made from the horn of the Donn Cúailnge itself,” Morven said. “I have tethered it to bring you back home to this spot when you’re ready.”

  “So…what?” I said. “I just click my heels three times and say, ‘there’s no place like home?’”

  “In essence, yes,” he replied. “But you must focus your mind on this particular moment. Not a second earlier or before.”

  “Like right now?”

  “No…now.”

  I laughed, a little louder than appropriate, clutching onto the little bull, my other hand resting on Finn’s arm. He frowned, his hair half hiding his face and his shoulders tense. In the corner, Eamonn held a large book in his hands, and he gave me a nervous glance and nodded before lowering his head again.

  Morven had begun drawing a large circle on the floor in chalk, whispering an incantation beneath his breath. On four points of the circle he drew a series of runes, each more intricate than the last, until finally, he stood back and assessed his work.

  “The bull will take you to its time,” he said, gesturing to me to step inside the circle. “And it will help you return here, to this moment. Just don’t lose that little thing, or you will be on your own. Hold on to it tight.”

  I gulped, my throat closing up and my chest heavy as I stared at the runes now glowing slightly.

  “Are you ready?” Morven said.

  I stood on the edge of the circle, sensing the electric pulse of Morven’s Druid magic in the air. It settled deep in my abdomen, pulling my Aisling powers forward. I squeezed Finn’s hand and, whirling around, planted a deep kiss on his mouth. He clutched the back of my neck, his breath hitching in his throat as I deepened the press of my lips onto his. I broke free and stepped backward into the circle, my gaze never leaving his.

  “I’m ready,” I said, the roar of a great wind cutting off my words. Shards of blue light seared across my vision. The wind turned to a howl, and I realized that the howl was a million voices all channeled into one. The darkness threaded together, turning into a tunnel, the screaming growing louder as I fell into its depths. I thrust my shoulders up to try to shield myself from the terrible noise, but my limbs sank with unbearable heaviness. The blue light burned brighter, and I fell faster, screaming, joining the cacophony of wails surrounding me. A tremendous pressure threatened to crush my lungs, and the air bored down on me like a vise. I gasped, seeking some escape from the wave of pain thrusting at me from all sides. A roar of static filled my ears, and then finally, darkness overcame me.

  Chapter Seven

  “Ooof.”

  I landed in an empty field, and I opened my eyes, staring up through the shifting blades of tall grass turning and bowing while a soft
wind swept across my face.

  I rubbed my forehead, my mind dizzy and my body feeling almost weightless after the horrible restraints of whatever tunnel I had traveled through. I sat up and glanced around, but there was nothing but rolling green hills and a cloudy sky. The earth felt cool and damp under my palms, and I filled my lungs with the sweet air, my strength slowly returning.

  I stood, my knees stiff and sore. High green grass rolled out from me all sides, only broken by a line of gray sky in the distance. I looked up at the dark clouds, heavy with rain, as if I could find an answer, a direction. Clutching at my heart, I closed my eyes and thought of Finn, willing myself to seek out his spirit. Nothing came to me but the cold whisper of wind and small drops of rain pelting my cheeks.

  Find the bull.

  But how? Where? I had hoped the time travel would zap me right to the beast, but when I opened my eyes and stared out at the barren landscape, my heart sank. Time was running out for all of us, but in this quiet world, I had nothing except time. Years of it. What if I couldn’t find the thing? What if Morven had accidentally sent me somewhere else? What if I never returned to my own time?

  Enough questions.

  That’s what Morven would have said. Hell, Grainne would have told me the same thing. Grainne would have hitched up her sword and—

  My spear!

  In the disorientation of the time travel, I hadn’t registered the lightness on my back. I reached over my shoulder, only to find the emptiness I knew would meet my fingers.

  Fuuuuuuuuuck.

  Stranded in the Bronze Age without a spear.

  Great. How could a spear just disappear? I remembered what Finn had said about the spear belonging to Cuchulainn. Did the magic in the spear keep it from returning to its own time? Was I even in the time of Cuchulainn? I supposed it didn’t matter because at least I still had—

  “The bull!” I exclaimed, opening my clenched fist and seeing nothing inside. Desperate, I clutched at my pockets and frantically scanned the ground. The tiny trinket, the small figurine of the bull, had vanished from my hand. I dropped to my knees, parsing through every blade of grass. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead, my breath emitting in small, labored gasps. I searched everywhere, the minutes ticking by, the rain turning to a deluge, great puddles gathering around me. I collapsed in the mud, my knees sinking into the cold earth. Morven had given strict instructions. No matter what, don’t lose the bull. The plan had seemed so simple, but now my ticket home was gone, my spear had left me, and I sat there alone, my rucksack in my lap.