Into the Fire (The Thin Veil) Read online

  “I’ve tried talking to them. So have Felix and Anya. But Nuala got here first, and she planted seeds of doubt in their minds. We were gone for many years and were in hiding for years before that. We’ve been branded as traitors, and there are many questions about what we were doing while we were on Ériu. Lorcan was not as reviled as you might think. He did not rise to power by violence only. There were many who supported him, who believed that we should take back the land we once called home. But he was too bloodthirsty, too power hungry, and by the time the others realized that, he was too powerful to stop.

  “Nuala’s timing is impeccable. The Council is glad that Lorcan’s gone, but his death created a vacuum. She can give them what they’ve always wanted without the bloodshed and civil unrest. She may be using her power on them, but I don’t think so. I don’t think she needs to… she’s offering something most of them want. And Sorcha is right—I never saw Nuala use her ability until we were in Ériu. They trust her, and with her ability, she can hand them what they want on a silver platter. If they have to make her queen in order for that to happen, well… as you see, she doesn’t have much opposition.” He looked at her sadly. “I’m sorry, Cedar. I know this is not the welcome you expected. But I don’t think talking to the Council is going to help us.”

  Cedar frowned. “Do you think we can fight them? Or just go after Nuala directly? Because we need to stop her.”

  Rohan and Finn exchanged glances. “We do,” Rohan said slowly. “But starting another civil war is not the answer, and targeting Nuala would be too dangerous given our precarious position here. There is another solution.”

  “What?” Cedar exclaimed. Her blood was still pounding through her veins, and she was ready to do whatever it took.

  “We need to present the Council with an alternative to Nuala as queen. Someone with a very strong claim to the throne, who would have the support of the people. That person is you, Cedar. We need you to become queen of Tír na nÓg.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Well, that was certainly interesting,” Nuala said as she strolled by the dry banks of the river. Her companion, the imposing Council member with the dark goatee, laughed softly.

  “That’s one way to put it,” he said. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, but she pretended to be absorbed in the flora around them, even though there was nothing of beauty to draw her eye. Let him look… and desire.

  “Do you have a better description, Deaglán?” she asked with a lilt in her voice.

  “You, for one, were as captivating as always,” he answered. “I know I’m not the only one who’s glad to have you back. And I’m grateful that you weren’t here for the worst of it.”

  Nuala arched an eyebrow at him. “The worst?”

  “I was proud to support Lorcan at first,” he said, furrowing his brow. “He had lofty ambitions. He wanted to see our people rise to greatness again. Brogan was happy for us to stay as we were—outcasts. He didn’t see the shame in our defeat. I know you were on Brogan’s side, so I will not speak ill of him—”

  “I was on no one’s side. I merely wanted to avoid bloodshed,” Nuala interrupted. “I believed there had to be a better way than sending our people to war. I still believe it.”

  He nodded. “I agree. And you were right to escape Lorcan. He grew mad with power, and ruthless. He started turning on his own supporters if they had a gift that could benefit him. No one was safe. You certainly wouldn’t have been.”

  Nuala feigned a shudder at the thought. “Yes, I believe he would have killed me sooner or later. I had hoped to best him when I returned, but with Gorman’s shield… well, the human woman did us all a favor.” She certainly did, Nuala thought to herself. She had never dreamed that things could turn out so well. With Lorcan gone, there was very little standing in her way. The return of Rohan and the rest of her pursuers from Ériu was inconvenient, but she had been pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to discredit them. Lorcan’s propaganda had done its job for her. “And now that the madman is gone, we must move forward. Do you think the other Council members agree with me?”

  “Well, I can’t speak for the others, of course,” Deaglán demurred. “But I believe your plan to be an excellent one. There is the small problem of your family history, of course, which may give some of them second thought. Gorman in particular is being rather prickly about that issue. But to my mind it makes perfect sense that your plan should be put into action, and making you queen is a necessary step. I don’t think it will take the Council long to reach a decision. Despite the prophecy and Lorcan’s death, the land has not healed. We cannot stay here much longer, not the way things are.”

  “I’m glad that we are of a like mind,” Nuala purred. “You have great influence on the Council.”

  “You have great influence on everyone,” Deaglán said, casting her a knowing glance.

  Nuala blushed. “I would never use my ability on the Council—surely you know that. I’ve sworn to never use it to gain an unfair advantage, whether in matters of politics… or love.” She lifted her eyes to meet his, and let them linger there until her meaning was impossible to misunderstand. “What exactly do they say about my family?” she asked once he had finally looked away.

  He stared at the ground as he answered. “Only that you do not come from one of the great houses, and that your ancestors were more servants than masters. Well, and there is talk that there has been the occasional… instability, shall we say, in your family line.”

  “I see,” Nuala said, but she could hardly deny it. Everyone knew the stories.

  “And then there is the matter of your parents, of course. A very tragic situation, to be sure.”

  “It was,” Nuala agreed.

  Deaglán hesitated and then asked, “May I be so bold as to inquire as to exactly what occurred there? There appear to be some… variations on the tale, you might say.”

  Nuala looked across the riverbed to the bank beyond. She didn’t enjoy discussing or even remembering her family. But a little bit of sympathy would certainly not hurt her cause. She decided to use her pathetic story to her advantage.

  “My ability came from my mother’s side,” she said. “She could see deep into the hearts of others and uncover their true desires, even those they wouldn’t admit to themselves. She could use her power to persuade a person to do something or think something, as long as it aligned with something true inside that person’s mind or heart. But she was gentle and kind, and never used her ability to her own advantage, even though she could have achieved anything she wanted. My father, as I’m sure you have heard, was neither gentle nor kind. He was vain and brutish and constantly paranoid that my mother was casting a spell on him, making him do things that he couldn’t remember. Why he married her in the first place I don’t know—he knew she had this power. She never hid her ability from him and had always promised that she’d never use it on him. I don’t believe she ever did. But he could not be convinced otherwise.”

  She glanced over at Deaglán to see how her story was being received. His eyes were gazing back at her with compassion, so she took a deep breath and kept talking. “I was eight when we discovered that I shared my mother’s ability. I was arguing with a friend over the last elderberry tart, of all ridiculous things. She was determined to have it, but I told her to give it to me. Suddenly, her eyes glazed over, and she handed me the tart and then walked away. I told my mother what had happened, and she was horrified. She knew what it meant. She had hoped it would skip my generation, or die out with her. From the very beginning she warned me not to use it or let anyone know about it, particularly my father. She said that no one would ever trust me once they knew the truth about my talent. I didn’t believe her; I had more faith in people than that, and I was determined to prove that I could be trusted. That I could be loved.”

  She spared another glimpse at Deaglán and saw that he was blushing slightly. She mentally rolled her eyes. This was too easy. He was like a dog desperate for a walk; all she
had to do was dangle the leash in front of him. She exulted in the fact that she didn’t even need to use her ability; in some cases, apparently, feminine wiles were enough.

  Nuala was grateful for her mother’s warning; in all her years in Tír na nÓg she had been cautious and had used her ability sparingly and only in secret. Her restraint had paid off. She had proven herself trustworthy, and the Council did not suspect that she would ever be so bold as to try and influence their decision. And—so far—she hadn’t. As long as they were cooperating, she saw no need to risk being caught using her power on them. If they became difficult, however…

  Her thoughts were interrupted by Deaglán. “You deserve both trust and love, fair Nuala,” he said. “And so did your mother.”

  “She did,” Nuala agreed. “But my father did not think so.” She could not keep the bitterness from her voice. “I used to come home to find my mother battered and bruised. She would never fight back, not even to protect herself. I used to beg her to let me use my ability to deal with my father, to get him to leave her alone. But even then she forbade me to use my gift. She told me that the only way I could live a normal life was to act like I didn’t have it—just like she did. I know that she was afraid I’d become the target of my father’s wrath if he found out what I could do. I obeyed. And then one day… I came home to find her dead on the floor. My father had killed her. He was ranting and raving about how she had bewitched him into marrying her and was keeping him under her control. I ran away, terrified. When I had gathered my courage to return, he had hung himself.”

  Nuala allowed her voice to break on the last sentence, and felt Deaglán’s warm hand caress her arm. It was almost true, except for the bit about her father. She had not run away, terrified. She had looked him deep in the eye and had, for the first and last time, shown him her power. It hadn’t been difficult to persuade her father that his life was meaningless, and that he’d be much happier swinging from the branch of the rowan tree that grew on the far edge of their land.

  “You were not to blame for your father’s actions,” Deaglán said softly. “You have overcome the challenges of your background admirably.”

  Nuala smiled and covered his hand with her own as they continued to walk together. “You are very kind,” she said. “We can only hope that the others feel the same way.”

  Cedar was not in the mood for jokes. “Rohan, you’re not serious.”

  “I am serious,” he said. “You’re the daughter of the last High King.”

  “The last one who wasn’t a psychopath, at any rate,” interjected Finn.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t matter. You told me the throne isn’t hereditary,” she said.

  “It’s true that it isn’t always hereditary,” Finn said. “But unless there’s a good reason for the throne not to be handed down from parent to child, it often is.”

  “But there is a good reason,” Cedar said. “They all think I’m human, remember? And I have no desire to be queen of Tír na nÓg or anywhere. Let’s go, I want to get back to Eden, and we need to talk to the others and make a plan. A real plan.”

  They walked in silence, Rohan leading the way, while Cedar trailed behind, her mind a mass of slippery and contradictory thoughts. She was starting to wonder if coming to Tír na nÓg had been a mistake after all. Maybe she and Eden should return to Halifax. She knew that Finn would come with them if she asked—at least, she thought he would—but she also knew how committed he was to rebuilding his people and his land. She didn’t want to ask him to make that choice, and she could never live without him.… She also couldn’t bear the thought of giving Nuala the satisfaction of seeing her run away.

  Maybe she could warn the world leaders in Ériu? But that was clearly no solution. She’d be dismissed as a crazy person and locked up in a psych ward. But what if she showed them what Eden could do? It would be definitive proof that another world existed. But no, she couldn’t, wouldn’t put Eden at risk like that.

  Her mind returned to Rohan’s suggestion: that she become the queen instead of Nuala. She knew that would never work, but what if someone else mounted a serious challenge to Nuala’s claim? Rohan, maybe; he had been close to Brogan. Or someone who had been Lorcan’s enemy here in Tír na nÓg. It could be anyone, as long as he or she was willing to put a stop to Nuala’s blood-crazed plan.

  After a while they came upon a small steep hill that was covered in scraggly grass. Cedar was surprised to discover that an ornately carved door was set in its side, like the one at the Fox and Fey pub back in Halifax.

  Without warning, the door burst open and Finn’s brother, Dermot, appeared. Cedar jumped and then quickly recovered herself. “You live in a hobbit hole,” she said without thinking. Dermot laughed.

  “Nice to see you again too, Cedar!” he said, giving her a hug. “Welcome home! We’ve cleaned the place up as best as we could, even though the front rooms were a disaster. I even found our old chess set, and it’s your move.” Dermot punched Finn in the arm. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to find my ladyfriend Dáiríne. We’re building a little hobbit hole of our own,” he said with a wink, heading off in the opposite direction.

  “I’ll leave you two to get settled in,” Rohan said. “But Cedar… think about it. We don’t have much time.” He caught up with Dermot in a few long strides. Cedar turned back to Finn, ready to launch into all the reasons why Rohan’s plan was a bad one. But Finn was standing with the door open, gesturing for her to go in. She stepped through the doorway into darkness, but it grew light as soon as Finn closed the door behind them, even though there was no obvious source for the illumination. They were in a small, empty room about the size of an elevator. Before Cedar could ask about it, the ground beneath them began to drop, and she gasped in surprise. Finn put his arm around her to steady her. “Don’t worry,” he said. “This just takes us down to the house.” His face was bright with excitement, and Cedar remembered that this was his first trip home in twenty years.

  They continued to descend until they came to a gentle stop. When Cedar looked up, she couldn’t see the door they had used to enter. They were in a small, dimly lit archway in front of a carved door. It opened easily at Finn’s touch, and they stepped through it.

  Cedar looked around in amazement. It was a large sitting room, and it reminded her of the living room at Rohan and Riona’s house in Halifax. The furniture was all constructed of gleaming wood that twisted and turned seamlessly. Woven tapestries of vibrant colors hung from the walls on golden rods alongside several instruments, some of which were familiar, some unrecognizable. She looked up at the arched ceiling, which was the color of ivory. It gave the room an expansive, airy feeling, even though Cedar knew they must be several feet underground.

  “The door in the hill and the one that leads to this room are enchanted to only let family and friends inside,” Finn said. “Lorcan’s minions tortured my uncle to get in this far, to the common areas. When my parents came back, this part of the house was in ruins. But even my uncle could not open the door to the rest of the chambers. Come, we’ll see if it’s as I remember.”

  They passed through several other rooms, which showed signs of having recently been put back together, and then they came to another richly decorated door, which glowed golden.

  “It’s not—?” Cedar began.

  “A sidh? No. But only members of the immediate family, or those who have been freely invited by them can get past this door.”

  He pressed both palms to the door and then stood back. It swung open with a series of small chimes, and Finn and Cedar stepped inside. To Cedar’s astonishment, they were standing in the middle of a sunny, circular courtyard. Smooth, flat stones shone beneath their feet, reflecting light from above. Cedar looked up and squinted against a bright yellow sun in a clear blue sky. Willow trees lined the courtyard, their branches swaying in a non-existent breeze, and a waterfall cascaded out of thin air into a small pool in the center of the room. Cedar felt a rush of incredible warmth through
her veins and her muscles relax.

  “It’s incredible,” she said. “It’s so… alive. This is how Tír na nÓg used to be, isn’t it? Why is it so different in here from what’s outside?”

  “It’s an illusion of sorts,” Finn said. “Or a reflection, you might say. Like a recording, or a hologram. Only here, it’s tangible. You can touch the trees, drink the water. Still, it’s just a memory of what was. I’m glad it’s here, though. It gives us something to remember, and something to strive for. Come, let’s find Eden. Riona was going to show her her new room.”

  He ducked under the branches of one of the willows, and Cedar followed. She realized now that the courtyard was in the center of a large, round room with four doors evenly spaced around its edges. “Each of these doors leads to a private chamber. My parents share a room, and there’s one for each of my siblings. But since Dermot has moved in with Dáiríne, my family has redesigned his chambers for you and me. And Eden will have my old room, which is through here.” He led her through one of the golden doors, which looked heavy but swung open effortlessly at the barest touch of his fingertips.

  Cedar gasped and looked down. They were standing on a thick branch, high up in a huge tree that had to be at least fifty feet off the ground. “Don’t worry. I would have broken my neck a hundred times if it were possible to fall from this tree,” Finn said with a grin.

  “Eden!” he called. “Are you in here?”

  “Daddy!” Eden called back, and Cedar had to crane her neck to see where their daughter’s voice was coming from. Eden’s head was peeking out from behind a branch several yards above them. Further up were more branches and then a dark sky dotted with bright stars. A full moon gave the scene a soft, ethereal glow.

  “Be careful, Eden!” Cedar cried instinctively.

  “I am! Come on up.… It’s amazing!” Eden called back.