None of it made sense, and I ran my fingers across my forehead, wiping away the beads of cold sweat that had broken out at my hairline. I glanced at my hands and noticed they were shaking, and, closing my eyes for the briefest moment, I willed my fingers to still, for my heartbeat to lengthen.
I turned to Amergin. “Take me to her.”
His brow furrowed, the bard glanced between Finn and me.
I gritted my teeth. “Now. I know the device Charlotte’s talking about. We don’t have time to sit around here chitchatting about where she was or why she’s back. If the Fir Bolgs proceed with their plans, all of us on this side of the mortal world will perish.”
Amergin’s face darkened, and he stood up, folding his robes around him. “Very well.”
Finn’s fingers met mine, and he pulled me in close. “You don’t have to do this.”
I drew away, Finn’s touch suddenly radioactive, delicate, and volatile. “We’re running out of time.”
Amergin edged between us and opened the door. “She’s in the catacombs. You remember them, Elizabeth?”
I winced, trying to ignore the subtle barb and the memories of that horrid place, the violent interrogation he had placed me under just over a year ago. Even in this raw moment, when all of my inner demons and insecurities rose chortling and hissing to the surface to undermine me, when I had a thousand questions and no answers, Amergin couldn’t help but try to throw me off my game using my past.
I thought of Scáthach, her sharp face staring down at me, gazing at me down the tip of her spear. I had to play by my own rules because none of this was fair. I couldn’t let Amergin break me down again. Not now.
He waited for me in the hallway before tearing down the long corridor.
“Did Charlotte tell you anything?” I said, dogging his footsteps. “About what she’s been doing for the last 150 years?”
“Charlotte was sworn in to the Fianna. There’s no telling why she broke her vow. Perhaps someone forced her to.” He sneered at me. “Perhaps she did it for love.” He stopped abruptly, eyeing my spear. “Where did you get that?”
“None of your business,” I snapped, shrugging past him.
We marched through winding stairs and down into the familiar tunnels leading to the catacombs. I clenched my fists at my side, memories of when the Fianna imprisoned me here, how Amergin had me beaten to a pulp, flashing at the edge of my mind. The wounds had long since healed, but the trauma of that night still burned in my mind like a searing brand.
As if reading my thoughts, he turned to me with a slight smile. “Seems like only yesterday we first met. My, how things change.”
I stopped in my tracks, crossing my arms. “You haven’t changed, Amergin. If you think this alliance makes me want to forgive and forget, you’re kidding yourself. We have mutual goals. That’s all.” My gaze wandered back over my shoulder at my spear. “One thing that has changed is I now have the power to ensure you die a slow and painful death, something which I have imagined a thousand times. Don’t give me an excuse.”
“You’re still bold as ever, Elizabeth Tanner, but if you think I’m impressed with your new tricks, your dragans, your”—he gestured to my spear—“new toys, you are quite mistaken. I have several millennia on you, and I have seen stronger warriors than you rise and fall. If this war doesn’t break you, time will.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but he pulled out a key ring from his robes and slipped it into the door.
“She’s in here,” he said.
I looked Amergin up and down. “Leave us.”
He frowned. “Are you sure that is wise? We have her chained in gemel, but as a trained Fianna, she could be unpredictable.”
I shook my head and edged around him. He slipped the door closed behind me.
A tiny form all in black sat huddled in the corner, and even in the dim light, her hair shimmered a bright gold. Charlotte looked up, and I tried to keep my face blank and unreadable as I fully took in her appearance. Of course she was beautiful. A delicate chin, lips as round and full as a doll’s. Even through the sweat and grime covering her skin, she had the features of an angel. I hated her for that. For her beauty. For her existence. For coming back. Or perhaps, for not coming back when Finn needed her. Most of all, though, I hated her for the shadow she had suddenly placed between Finn and me, the great hovering cloud of his vow to her. Finn and his vows. One more broken promise. I could stack them up like pebbles on the shore, just to watch them slip away with the tide.
“Where is Finn?” she said in a breathy voice. Her accent was strange, and something about it tugged at my awareness. I pushed it aside, studying her large eyes, black and hollow in the darkness.
“He doesn’t want to see you.”
She looked away, staring at a small puddle of water in the corner. “Who are you?”
“I’ll be asking the questions,” I said.
She snorted, waving her bound hands. “Ask away. I won’t talk to anyone but Finn.”
Hot rage burned through my chest, but I pushed it down, mentally dousing it with ice water. I had to keep myself calm, focus on the mission. Take the emotion out of it. Charlotte had answers, and I needed her to destroy the device, defeat the Fir Bolgs. I couldn’t allow her to draw me into her manipulations. I took a deep breath and scratched the back of my head to hide my trembling hands.
“Charlotte Hayes back from the dead.” I paced the small chamber, studying the granite walls and smoothing my hands over the rough stone. Some of them had scratch marks, and I repressed a shiver. The Fianna policed the mortal world for Fae, and who knew what beasts they locked up here and for what cause. If we won, that would all change. No more secret jails and interrogations. No more indefinite imprisonment for the Fae who dared to travel into the mortal world.
Not if we win.
When we win.
“I don’t know what he resents most,” I said, turning back to Charlotte. “The fact that he thought you were dead for so many years, or that you found a way to worm your way back into his life.”
She stared up at me. “And so you’re the expert on Finn O’Connell?”
I studied the ceiling, clasping my hands in front of me. “I was a prisoner here once. You would be amazed the ways Amergin can make you suffer.”
“Amergin recruited me.” She brushed her long hair from her eyes. “I know what that man is capable of. He doesn’t scare me.”
“Were you working for the U.S. government when he recruited you?” I said. “Or did that come after? After you faked your death?”
“I didn’t fake my death!” she snapped.
“But you never returned,” I said. “Sounds like the fire was a convenient escape for you.”
“You know nothing about me,” she spat, “and I aim to keep it that way.”
I shrugged. “Honestly, your life story means nothing to me. Amergin says you know how to dismantle the device meant for the Tree of Life. I want that knowledge.”
“No,” she said. “Not until I go free.”
I rested my palms on my hips. “Write it down for me, and I will talk to Amergin about releasing you.”
She raised her bound hands and tapped her forehead with a smile. “It’s all up here.”
We locked gazes, tension crackling in the air between us.
“Tell me,” I said.
Charlotte laughed, rising up to her knees. “You have to be mad to think I would disclose something so precious. I give those plans to you, and I’m dead. We both know that.”
The floor bottomed out beneath me, and my heart pounded, sudden recognition washing over me. I knew that voice. Knew where I had heard it before.
I banged on the door, sweat pouring down my neck, and Amergin opened it. Shaking my head, I slipped out, leaning against the wall, gasping for breath as a wave of fresh panic threatened to pull me u
nder. I squeezed my eyes tight and willed my limbs to steady, hiding my shaking hands in my pockets.
“What did she tell you?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said through panting breaths, clutching at my chest. “But she’s emotional about Finn, about the fire, and her ‘death.’ Charlotte may be working with the government, but there’s a lot she’s not telling us. Things I know.”
“Such as?”
“I’ve met her before.” I closed my eyes, images from the past reeling through my mind like an old movie. The cold government facility. The isolation. The fluorescent lights, the sterile cookies, and the girl in the vent. Hermione, I had called her, because she said she had forgotten her name, they had kept her prisoner for so long. She had pretended to be Fae, and they had planted her to talk to me, to dig into my consciousness and pry open all my secrets. I had trusted her, told her everything about me, about…Finn. All that time, and she had revealed nothing about her connection to him. She was good. So treacherous and so cold.
I opened my eyes again and realized Amergin had been studying me, his shoulders tense.
“It was in a secret government facility.” I brushed away the cold sweat beading on my forehead. “She was a plant. An informant. I trusted her.”
He nodded knowingly. “We all trusted her.”
“Anyway”—I shook my head, knocking those horrible memories back into the closet where they belonged—“she’s not going to give up the plans until she’s free.”
“That is not possible. The moment we take off the gemel, she’ll slay anyone in her path. We’ll have to torture it out of her.”
“No!” I cried. A wave of dizziness swept over me, and I leaned my head against the cold stone, waiting for it to pass. I had seen enough torture, enough pain and violence. I wouldn’t undertake that on my watch, and besides, there were better ways to get Charlotte to talk.
“I need to talk to Finn,” I said, dreading what I knew I had to ask of him.
“His mind is clouded by his feelings,” Amergin said, leaning in close. “If she knows how to stop the Fir Bolgs, we need that knowledge now. If this device is as dangerous as you say, we cannot hesitate. You said yourself, we’re running out of time.”
I slammed my fist against the wall. “I know. But don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious? This woman shows up after a century? This woman who we know lies and lies just to get what she wants?”
“Perhaps she wanted to be caught.” Amergin leaned against the wall, his eyes closed in thought, and for a half second, I felt a strange connection to him—the burden of leadership, the impossible choices, the dead ends and false starts.
But the moment passed, and I pushed myself away from the damp stone, shaking my head. “Even if she gave us all of the Fir Bolgs’ strategy on a silver platter, we can’t trust her.”
“What choice do we have?” Amergin asked in the barest whisper.
I glanced at him, startled by the “we” in the question. My mind traveled back to Maeve leading her army into battle, her grand alliances with men she undoubtedly despised. Before the device had shown up, the battle lines had been so clear. Amergin was just another villain, a part of the darkness, the other side of the war we waged. I hated him and what he represented, but now our survival depended on each other. What would the world look like when this was over? Would there even be a world left?
“Finn knows her better than anyone,” I replied, choking on his name. “Perhaps he can find the truth. Start gathering your people and your weapons. We will need to leave soon and strike the Fir Bolgs. With or without Charlotte’s intel, we will move forward.”
“We will be ready in the morning.” He wandered in the opposite direction, his shoulders tense and his gait quickening as he turned the corner.
I returned to the Great Hall, but Malachy said Finn needed some air. I wondered where he had gone, but then realization took hold, and I raced up the stairs toward the ramparts. Fianna headquarters in Galway was basically a medieval castle next to the River Shannon. Humans couldn’t see it, which made it convenient for the Fianna to go about their work policing the Fae in the mortal world. As I climbed the stone steps, the tower growing narrower, I thought of the world Finn had given up for me—for us. I pushed the rickety wooden door, and a blast of sea air hit my face. I recalled the last time I stood here with him. The uncertainty of our two paths colliding, the tension dancing around us.
Finn’s hulking form leaned against the wall, his body so still he could be the silhouette of a statue except for his hair blowing widely. Beyond him, the pulsing black hole raged in a quiet storm, sheet lightning and billowing black clouds swirling in the maelstrom. The people of Galway looked like ants below, staring up at the horrible sight, murmuring to each other and pointing. I wondered if the symbol on the device had changed, and if we had reached a new stage in our countdown to Doomsday. It certainly felt like the universe was falling apart.
“Charlotte is alive,” I said matter-of-factly, finding my way to his side. “Your wife is alive.”
He didn’t speak for a long time but stared at the ocean, a muscle flickering on the edge of his jaw.
“You’re confused,” I continued. “Hurt. Angry. Who is she working for? How did she escape the fire? Why did she never come to you?”
He shook his head and took my hand. “Don’t.”
I wrenched my palm away. “Look, I love you. And I don’t know what Charlotte is doing here or why she is working with the government, but you need to go find out, and you need to do it now. Because—”
My voice broke, cracked with sudden emotion. I had resolved not to fall apart, and I pushed the pain back, the twisty hollow feeling, willing myself to feel nothing at all.
“Because,” I continued, “very soon, I’ll be taking all these Fianna, all these Druids, and all these púcas and Fae to Tír na nÓg to fight in a war against the enemy of my people. I need you at my side, Finn, but not if you’re filled with thoughts of her.”
Finn swallowed hard. “Are you done talking now?”
I let out an exasperated sound.
He reached out and stroked the edge of my cheek. “I am not filled with thoughts of her, Elizabeth. Charlotte may be alive, but she is not my wife. All I can think about is a vow I made over 150 years ago but no longer feel is important. I am trying to work through why that vow no longer matters when at the time it was the only thing that mattered.”
“Charlotte—”
“I do not want to talk about Charlotte,” he growled, drawing his hand away and massaging his temple.
“And you think I do?” I propped my hand on my hip. “Charlotte is here, and unfortunately, we need her.”
His head snapped up. “What are you talking about?”
I quickly ran through what I had discussed with her, how she refused to give up the plans to dismantle the device. I placed a tentative hand on his arm.
“Amergin wants to torture it out of her, but perhaps there’s a better way,” I said, relishing the touch of his skin, the small silky hairs covering his hard muscles.
“What do you propose?” Finn pinched the space between his eyes with a long sigh.
“Maybe…” My chest tightened, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Maybe you can get close to her…”
“Absolutely not,” Finn said in a clipped voice.
“Technically, you are still married to Charlotte.”
“I want nothing to do with her!” Finn turned and paced the rampart, his fingers trailing across the moss-covered stones before clenching into fists. “And I will not allow myself to be used in such a manner.”
I let out a long exhale. “What do you want me to do?” I stared up at the sky, wishing there was a better plan. A better answer to all this mess. A hundred weights settled on my chest, and I wanted to scream, or at least beg the world to slow down, for the clock to stall for a few minutes
so we could sort things out, take our time with the past and the present.
“Look.” I swallowed hard, the words struggling to form. “I know all of this is madness, and if I could think of a better way out of this, I would. Maybe you can stay behind here, work the source until we find answers. Maybe—”
“No. Wherever you go, I go. I will not leave you.”
I stared at Finn, his eyes glassy and bloodshot, his hair tangled and unkempt. He needed a shower. We both did. And about twenty-four hours of sleep.
“Aren’t you curious at all?” I whispered. “Where she was all that time? What she was doing?”
He shook his head, his teeth grinding in his skull. “Any word from her mouth would be a lie. She had 150 years to tell me the truth about herself, and she never did. I don’t care about anything she has to say.”
“Fianna mate for life.” I traced circles across the back of his hand. “You told me that once.”
Finn grabbed my shoulder, his fingers digging into my skin. “And as far as I am concerned, the Charlotte I knew died in that fire,” he said through gritted teeth.
I glanced down at his hand. “You’re hurting me.”
His eyes widened, his hold loosening before pulling me close to his chest in a tight embrace. “Forgive me, Elizabeth. It’s just that…” He let out a long sigh then drew away from me and pulled something small from his pocket.
I glanced down and gasped. It was a ring, the band a delicate Celtic knot with a gleaming emerald embedded inside it.
“Finn…” Tears stung my eyes.
He stared down at it and swallowed hard. “One of the púcas is a jeweler and made it for me. I was just waiting for the right time to give it to you. And now I fear it is too late…”
The wind picked up. A lock of silky hair blew across his jaw, and I swept it away from his face, my fingertips trailing across his unshaved neck. “No, it’s not too late. It’s not.”
He shook his head. “You said it yourself. Fianna mate for life.”
“Oh.”
A heavy weight dropped on my chest, and my gaze fixated on the ring in the middle of his palm, the pale gold, the round stone, smooth and a deep shade of forest green. It appeared so small and delicate, and I longed to grab it from him, place it on my finger, or at least keep it in some deep, hidden place so I could pull it out as proof. Proof that once two people gave everything to each other, proof that love had a shape and a material place in this world. Now, with Charlotte, our whole history felt so twisted, as if the path we had wandered down had suddenly ended and landed us inside the depths of a dark wilderness. I didn’t know what to do or where to go.
Echoes from the Veil Page 17