CHAPTER TWENTY
To her surprise, Nuala did not have to force Eden through the open sidh—the child went willingly. But once they had walked through the shimmering air in the doorway of Maeve’s house, Eden didn’t even seem to notice that they had crossed into a fabled land, the Otherworld, the land of Faerie, the land of Tír na nÓg. Instead, she stood with her hand still on the doorknob, looking back at her grandmother, who was lying unconscious on the ground.
“She’ll be fine,” Nuala said, not unkindly. “Now close the sidh.” When Eden showed no sign of obeying, she said, with an edge to her voice, “Or would you rather leave it open so the bad guys can go through and find her?” Eden swung the door closed, and it disappeared. She continued to stand there silently, and quite still.
Nuala looked around. She could feel it as soon as they had walked through the sidh. There was no question in her mind they were in Tír na nÓg. And yet the Eden she had met in the dreamscape had been right; it was not the Tír na nÓg she remembered. When she had fled with the other so-called rebels, the land had been showing signs of strain—fruit withering and falling from the trees, the streams not as full as they should have been, the days more cloudy than sunny. But this was nothing like the land she had left. Everything around them was a variation on gray. Even the brown, dead grass beneath their feet was tinged with a sickly gray pallor. The sky, the trees, the bushes that had once been brilliant with color all looked ashen, like a corpse that had been many days dead.
But the war is over, she thought, looking around in astonishment. The land should have recovered. She continued to stare, letting the shock of what she was seeing sink in, and then she saw him.
She had seen him before, of course, years ago. He was handsome, as were all the Tuatha Dé Danann. He looked every bit the warrior-king, tall and strong, with chiseled features and steely blue eyes. As she watched Lorcan advance on them, she hesitated slightly. What if the druid had been right, and he would kill the child the moment he knew who she was? But there was no turning back now, so she raised her chin and waited for him to approach, focusing her power and readying herself to take control. This was the moment she had been waiting for.
A Danann warrior walked on each side of the king. When they drew close, the soldiers stopped and stared at her openly. She smiled slightly. She knew they, at least, were feeling the effects of her charm, even though it was not directed at them.
Lorcan’s eyes, however, did not glaze over. They stared at each other for a moment, as if sizing one another up, and then she gave a slight bow. “My lord,” she said, “I have brought you a great gift, as promised.”
He looked behind her, not yet paying attention to Eden. “Did you create that sidh?” he asked, staring intently at the spot where it had been.
“No, my lord,” Nuala said. “I did not make it, but I brought you the one who did. The child you sought, many years ago.” She indicated Eden, who had walked over and sat down at the base of the tall dead tree they had seen through Kier’s necklace. Her eyes were closed and she was leaning against the trunk.
Lorcan breathed out in a long, slow hiss as he looked at the girl. “That was many years ago, and yet she is still a child. How is that possible?”
“She is Brogan’s grandchild,” Nuala answered. “His own child, this girl’s mother, has been made human through a druid’s craft. But this child has the gift you seek. I found her, and have gone through much danger to bring her to you. I remember your words, your promises to the one who could bring you the child with the king’s gift.”
Lorcan tore his eyes from Eden and narrowed them at Nuala. “I am the king,” he said slowly.
“Of course,” Nuala faltered, confused. Her power did not seem to be having any effect on him, and she could not understand why. A chill ran through her, though the air was hot and dry. “I only meant that I brought her here as a sign of my loyalty. I was deceived when I left Tír na nÓg, and have been searching for a way to return to your side ever since. I hope to claim the mercy and reward you promised.”
He sneered at her. “I am known for many things. Mercy is not one of them. However, you have done well, very well, to bring the child to me. For that, I shall spare your life, provided you agree to use your considerable talents in my service, of course. That should be reward enough, don’t you think, Fionnghuala?” Then he leaned over so that his lips were touching her ear. “How are your charms working so far?” he whispered, and then pulled back, mockery written across his face.
Nuala took a step back. The chill deepened, and she felt goose bumps rise on the smooth skin of her arms. How could her power have no effect on him? He was not a closer like Rohan or Finn. He had very real, very obvious desires. She did not even need to look inside his heart to see the hunger for power that consumed him. It should have been easy to control him, to convince him that he needed her.
“You don’t think I walk around unprotected, do you?” he said. “Not all my loyal subjects are as willing to serve me as you are.” His handsome features twisted into a smirk. “I shouldn’t take all the credit. This shield of protection used to belong to someone else, someone who is now dead, of course. No, don’t bother trying to see it. You can’t. But it’s there, protecting me from you, and everyone else who would wish to kill me.” He paused. “But I don’t think that was your plan, was it?”
“Of—of course not, my lord,” Nuala said. “I would never dream of such a thing. I only wish…” she hesitated, unsure how to proceed knowing he was not under her spell. “I only wish to assist you. I believe in your cause, and I have done what I can to help by bringing you the sidh-opener. However, I can be of much more service. With your many powers, and my ability to persuade, we could make a formidable team, my lord.”
Lorcan raised a blond eyebrow into a perfectly pointed arch. “Team? Ah, I see it now. You think this favor you have done for me merits a reward greater than the mere gift of your life. You think I should make you queen.” He reached out and ran a smooth finger along her cheek and down her neck. He trailed it along her collarbone and traced the neckline of her shirt to where it dipped between her breasts. She held still, barely daring to breathe, and tried to soften her features as she gazed at him seductively.
“You do have a certain charm, even though I am shielded from your power,” he said. “Your ability will no doubt be useful to me.” He paused, slowly running his tongue across his lips as he ran his hands over her body. “I could kill you and take it for myself, of course, and I may, in time. However, I’m sure I can think of some use for you until then.” He looked at his guards. They were still gazing at Nuala with undisguised lust through their glassy, slightly dazed eyes. “Or maybe they can,” he said with a short laugh.
Nuala looked at him in horror, simultaneously shutting down all vestiges of the seductive threads she had been sending his way. The other men shook their heads, as if trying to get water out of their ears.
“Come!” Lorcan commanded with a sweeping turn. “This is a momentous occasion, and there is still much to be discussed.” One of the men took Nuala by the arm and shepherded her in Lorcan’s wake. The other man was pushing Eden along in front of him. Nuala shook with fear and anger and hissed, “Let go of me at once.”
The guard immediately dropped her arm and stood to the side, letting her pass. Lorcan stopped and turned around, a look of mock disappointment on his face.
“You’re not going to be difficult, now, are you? Look at how easily the child obeys,” he said, indicating Eden, who was standing still beside her guard. “You may have noticed that Tír na nÓg has changed since you left. You’re in my Tír na nÓg now, Fionnghuala. Believe me when I say I can make things very difficult for you. There is no place to run.” He turned to her guard. “Let her walk freely,” he said, then continued apace in front of them.
Nuala stood her ground for a second, and then fell into step beside Eden, who was following Lorcan. She glanced over at the child.
“Are you okay, Eden?” she asked. Eden just shrugged and kept walking. Nuala let out a frustrated breath. What did she care if the child was okay? Her entire plan was in ruins. This wasn’t the Tír na nÓg she had longed for. This was a wasteland. Even Ériu, as much as she despised the place, held more attraction for her than this vast expanse of gray, every tree and rock a dismal reminder of the glory she had left behind. Were the Tuatha Dé Danann who remained here also only shadows of their former selves? Would she find the same race of dignified, powerful beings she had once adored and been proud to be part of, or would they have withered under a cruel king’s reign, until they cowered and simpered like humans? She forced herself not to dwell on such despairing thoughts. She just needed a new strategy, one that would put her in a position of power. She would neither simper nor cower—but she could be patient.
Nuala remembered Lorcan’s hands on her body, and shivered at the thought of playing whore for him. But if she could get him alone, if eventually she could get him to let down his shield of protection, it would only take a few carefully chosen words to shift the balance of power in her favor.
As soon as Cedar crossed through the tree-sidh, she started looking around frantically. “Eden!” she called out. She felt Finn’s hand clamp over her mouth.
“Quiet!” he whispered, pulling her down behind a dry patch of brambles. Beside them was the tree that had served as the connecting sidh on this side. It was a tall, dead thing, gleaming ghostly white. Together they stared at it. Cedar could detect a faint glow, but she wasn’t sure if that was because it was a sidh or because the whiteness of the tree’s bark contrasted so much with the dingy grays and browns around them.
Finn whispered, “I think we can leave it open. I barely recognize it as a sidh, and I’m looking for it. I don’t think it will be easily noticed, and it will be good for us to have a way back in case…in case we need it.”
“What about the others?” Cedar asked. “You called Felix. Will they follow us through?”
Finn shook his head. “I don’t think so. I was on the phone with him when I first noticed the sidh. I told him I would go through, and asked him to be ready in case someone from Tír na nÓg tries to get to Ériu. My father can close it if it comes to that. If not, they’ll wait, at least for a while. The more of us there are over here, the more likely it is that we’ll be discovered.”
Cedar looked at Finn and felt a rush of warmth that bolstered her against the terror playing at the edges of her mind. She was glad he was with her, and not just because he kept her from feeling completely and utterly helpless. She had thought she might feel different here—bolder, more confident. This was, supposedly, her ancestral home. Still, she felt small and ordinary and exhausted, and filled with the same desperation to find her daughter before it was too late.
“So this is Tír na nÓg?” she asked, taking in the barren landscape.
He nodded, his face grim. “It is, or it was, I should say. This isn’t Tír na nÓg as I knew it, but we’re in the right place, if that’s what you mean.”
“Where do you think she is?”
He shook his head. “She could be anywhere, but if Lorcan has her she’ll be at the Hall, the seat of the High King.”
“Which way?” she asked, looking around.
“Hold on,” he said. “We need a plan.” He was quiet for a moment, still crouched in the brush.
“We need to get going! We can’t just sit here!”
“We’ll be of no help to her if we get ourselves killed before we even find her,” Finn said, laying a hand on her shoulder to keep her from standing. “Cedar, I know you’re not going to like this, but…I think you should go back.”
Her eyebrows raised and her jaw dropped. “Are you insane? We’re so close to her! We don’t have time to argue, so you might as well save your breath and drop it.”
He gave her a look that said he would drop it, but wasn’t happy about it. Then he said in a hushed and hurried voice, “Fine, but I’ll reach her quicker if I go alone. I can shift into something small and fast. The fact that we’re still alive right now means it probably wasn’t a trap. Eden must have created this sidh, which means she doesn’t need a door anymore. She can create a sidh from anything. Maybe she’s already escaped! If not, she’s probably being restrained somehow. I just need to free her, and she can use whatever is around us to make a sidh and escape to Ériu, back to Maeve’s. She can close the sidh behind us, and we’ll both be safe.”
Cedar listened to his plan with an uneasy feeling in her stomach. His reasoning made sense. She was slow and loud and weak, all things that would imperil their rescue mission. And yet Maeve had told her she could save Eden. We gave you the gift of humanity, she had said. It’s a strength, not a weakness.
Cedar’s forehead wrinkled as she tried to concentrate on what Finn was saying. She couldn’t help but feel that she was missing something, that they were all missing something. Surely, it was not as straightforward as merely finding Eden and spiriting her away. If Lorcan was so easily tricked, how had he stayed in power for so long, and brought an entire race of superbeings to its knees?
Use your humanity.
Cedar gasped as the answer came to her. She nearly laughed from the sheer simplicity of it. She put her hand on the trunk of the tree to steady herself. She was sure of it now. She was the dyad, the two-in-one, and the answer to the prophecy, just like Maeve had told her. She saw now how she could rescue Eden and prevent Lorcan from ever coming after her again. At the same time, she would be fulfilling the prophecy by purging the land of the poison that was Lorcan, saving not only Eden, but also Tír na nÓg…and earth.
She turned to Finn, who was looking at her with concern. “I need to go with you,” she said quietly but firmly.
“Cedar, I just finished listing all the reasons why that would be a bad idea.”
“Listen, you have no idea what you’re facing, right? There are a thousand things that could go wrong, and if you’re captured or killed, Eden is as good as dead. I can be Plan B.”
“What could you possibly do?”
She hesitated, and for the first time knew how Finn must have felt when he had hidden the truth from her to protect her. She took one of his hands in hers and said, “I have a plan, but I can’t tell you what it is, not yet. You’re going to have to trust me.”
He brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. His eyes, slightly wounded, were intent on hers. “I do trust you, and I love you. You don’t have to tell me your plan. But plan or no plan, this is too risky. Please, just stay here and wait for me to come back. If I’m not here by sunset, go through the sidh and see if Eden got back to Ériu alone.” He stood up and pulled her to her feet, then brought her in close against his chest.
“I spent years thinking I’d never see you again,” he said. “You don’t know how much it means to me to have you back. It’s as if I’ve been given back my life. I can’t risk losing you again.”
“This isn’t about us,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “It’s about Eden. She needs me. I know I can save her.” Cedar felt moisture on her cheeks and wiped it away with the palm of her hand. “Please understand,” she pleaded. “I have to do this. I have to do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”
“You could be killed,” he said, his voice trembling.
“I’m not as helpless as you think I am,” she said, trying to fill her voice with conviction. “I’ll be careful. I’ll stay out of the way, hidden, just close enough to help if I can. But I need to be there. We have the starstones. Find out where Eden is, and let me know. Maybe it will be easy, like you say. If nothing goes wrong, we won’t have anything to worry about. I’ll head straight for the white tree and meet you on the other side. But I’m not going to stay here, not without knowing whether you and Eden are alive or dead or being tortured somewhere. I’m going with you.”