Seeing me wince on my left leg, Scáthach shoved a staff into my hands. “Not just for protection. Lean on that as much as possible.”
I nodded, clutching the staff with a grateful smile. “Are you ready?”
Scáthach and Maeve looked at each other, sharing a nervous glance.
“You can really travel that far?” Maeve asked. “All the way to Connaught?”
I shrugged. “I can take you anywhere. But Connaught is where we’re going today.”
Maeve let out a long exhale. “Very well, sorceress. Take me home.”
I closed my eyes, gathering their energy close to my own, and in seconds I spirited us across Ireland until we landed on the craggy hill of Finn’s ancestral home—or what would someday be his home. I opened my eyes, and instead of sublime ruins, only a lonely hill facing the sea greeted us.
A small squeal escaped Maeve’s lips, and she jumped in front of me, clapping her hands. “How is this possible?” she said in a breathless voice.
I smiled. “Magic, Your Highness.”
Scáthach snorted, frowning and scouting out the hill. The sun had risen through the trees, casting long shadows across her lithe form.
“I know this place,” she called to us. “It’s a gateway outpost to the Veil.”
I stopped short. “An outpost?”
She turned around and stared at me like I had grown two heads. “For the Fae to communicate to us through the Veil? To travel freely?”
“You mean the Fae used to travel freely through the Veil?” I asked.
Her eyes narrowed on me. “What do you mean, ‘used to’?”
Maeve walked up to Scáthach, matching her wary scowl.
“I mean, just…” I stammered. “Everything I’ve heard is that the Fae were banished. The Veil was created to keep them out of this world.”
Maeve and Scáthach glanced at each other and then burst out laughing.
Maeve recovered and stepped up to me, cupping my face in her delicate hand. “The Fae are everywhere. They’re in the water, in the air, in the sea. The Druids on both sides created the Veil to keep some order to things, but they’re here. You’re here.”
“Well, yeah.” I shrugged. “But…you mean…the Druids on both sides created the Veil? It wasn’t just the Celts?”
Scáthach shook her head. “It’s been ages past, but it is known, sorceress. Everyone agreed to it. The Fae may roam freely in our realm, and sometimes we mortals slip into their world, although it is rare.”
I let out a long exhale, glancing at the forest, the boulders strewn across the hill. Somehow through the centuries Trinity had twisted the story. Amergin always made it seemed like the Veil was his idea, but there must have been a time when the bard had little power over Ireland.
Maeve turned away, nodding to the dark horizon. “We have a ways to go before nightfall. Let’s get moving.”
We marched in grim silence for several hours, over craggy cliffs and quiet meadows, never confronting another soul. We entered an ancient forest, the ground and towering trees covered in a blanket of bright green moss. Finally, we arrived at a giant oak tree, its gnarled roots twisting and turning in and out of the ground.
Maeve turned to me. “Are you sure you wish to find Bel? Sometimes the answers we need are not the ones we seek.”
I looked up at the enormous branches casting a thick canopy over our heads. Bands of sunlight pierced through the leaves, and a light breeze blew Maeve’s hair across her face. Scáthach edged toward her, studying me, her shoulder muscles tensing.
“Is Bel here?” I asked.
Maeve pointed to the tree. “He’s through there.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Through the tree?”
“Not through it,” she replied, “but as sovereign I can seek out the gods when I choose. Such is my right as queen of this land.” She pressed her hand to the rough bark, tracing her fingers around its knots and crevices. “This is no mere tree, sorceress.”
With her jaw set, she pressed her palm firmly against the bark. Closing her eyes, Maeve murmured a few indistinguishable words. The pattern of the bark swirled and shifted apart. I gasped as a face emerged in the tree—a long pointed nose, a frowning, wizened mouth, and a pair of closed eyes.
The eyes opened, revealing a dark gaze, its pupils darting side to side. “Who calls me?”
My heart pounded, and I edged away, taking in the Ent-looking creature peering out from the bark of the oak.
Maeve threw back her shoulders, lifting her haughty nose in the air. “I am Queen Maeve of Connaught, and I request the aid of The Green Man as is my right as sovereign.”
The oak scowled and let out a low, throaty chuckle, peering down at Maeve as if she were a particularly chatty and annoying squirrel. “You may request it, but it does not mean I will aid you.”
“My request is not for me, but for the sorceress Elizabeth Tanner.” She waved to me, and The Green Man flashed me a bored stare.
“That is no sorceress,” the tree grumbled.
Maeve kept her face blank, but the muscles in her jaw tensed. “She seeks Bel.”
The bark between its wide wooden eyes knotted together. “Such a request comes at a price.”
“I don’t care what the price is,” I said. “I need to find Bel.”
“Your life for passage,” The Green Man said.
“What?” I squawked, spluttering and throwing down my walking staff. “He came to me.” I clasped my sweaty hands together, drawing them to my chest. “He told me to find him.”
“To seek a god such as Bel is to seek death,” it said. “There is no other way.”
The man in the tree gave me a blank stare, and I shifted my feet, my stomach dropping to the forest floor. I understood now: the path to saving the world meant a sacrifice. A human sacrifice.
I could find Bel, and perhaps the god would pass on the essence to Morven, but I would die. My journey would end. A pulse of rage fired through me. Rage at Morven, at the ghost of Bel who had visited me. All of that—to die alone on the other side. I glanced back at Maeve and Scáthach, the two of them huddled close together. I wondered if I might stay with them, find another way home through some other astral path I hadn’t discovered yet. Morven said I had the ability. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the circle he had drawn back in his tent. I placed all my emotions and all my strength into that one moment, but when I opened my eyes, I let out a small cry of exhaustion. I still remained lost in time.
Maeve shook her head, her usually implacable face filled with emotion. “I am sorry. The gods are cruel sometimes.”
I covered my eyes with my palms, shutting out the light, my fingers trembling.
I had to make this sacrifice. A black hole threatened to destroy everyone, all of the people I loved. Regardless of what I wanted, I needed to save them, and I had to follow this path where it led me. With a deep breath, I lowered my hands, scrubbed my face, and straightened my spine. “I need to find Bel, whatever it takes, even if it means forsaking my own life.”
Scáthach let out a long breath. “Are you sure?”
I gave her a long, hard stare, taking in her blond braids, her piercing eyes, her strong arms. She had been a good teacher, and now I had to face the fight, figure out a way to save the world or what was left of it in the future.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I said. “I’m sure as the blood running through my veins. I must do this.”
The Green Man rumbled, and the trunk of the tree shook as the roots began to twist and turn through the black earth, revealing a dark hole at the base of the oak. I stared into it, my gaze lost to the murky depths. With a deep breath, I took a step forward.
“Wait!” Scáthach grabbed my arm and pulled me in for a close embrace.
She took my canteen, the one with the blood of the bull inside. Leaning in, she whispered faintly in
my ear, “Drink it, and it may save you from The Green Man’s price. But not for long.” She stepped back and gave me a rare smile, calling after me. “Make sure to drink enough water!”
I nodded to her and waved at Maeve. The Green Man peered down at me with a frown, and gathering up every shred of courage I had, I stepped inside the tunnel.
Chapter Thirteen
The tree closed behind me, and I stood surrounded by darkness. Not sure what to do, I took a tentative step forward and then another. With each step, the sound of something like traffic echoed through the long tunnel, and far down at the end, I spotted the outline of a door. My wounds ached from all the walking, but I plowed forward until I reached the light, the traffic sounds growing louder and louder. Was Bel behind the door? It sounded like a bustling city on the other side. I fumbled with the stopper of my canteen.
I opened it and, holding my nose, took a sip of the blood inside, suppressing the nausea welling up in me at the metallic taste. The blood dripped down my throat and instantly, a tingly, warm feeling filled my limbs, a subtle hum sounding in my brain. Hopefully, there was still enough for Morven. Stoppering the canteen, I buckled it to my waist and shrugged my shoulders back, preparing to meet the Celtic god. With a firm tug, I opened the door, blinking at the bright light on the other side.
When my eyes adjusted, I startled at the scene in front of me. It was Central Park. New York City. The sound of traffic blared in the distance, punctuated by twittering birds and cooing pigeons. New Yorkers rushed by, families, joggers, street performers. Their faces turned up slightly to the dazzling sunlight and clear blue sky above. Skyscrapers loomed in the distance, but a concrete path stretched out before me, and at the end, stood the man in the suit. Bel. The man who came to me in my dream and before my fight with Cuchulainn. Yet, instead of his immaculate appearance, his suit was splattered with mud, one pant leg torn up the side. His hair stuck out wildly, and his face was turned down to the grass as if he were searching for something.
I approached him. “Are you Bel?”
He turned to me, eyes wide. “You can see me?”
I looked around at the people rushing by and back to him. “Yeah.”
He returned to the grass, and I realized he was gazing into a puddle of muck.
I cleared my throat and crouched down. “You told me to find you, so I did. I need your help.”
He shook his head, his fingers brushing the murky water.
Anger welled up in me, and my throat tightened. “Dude, you came to me. You gave me this magical orb that created a fiery spear. You were there! You told me to find you!”
The suited man continued to stare into the puddle, a frown on his face.
“Hey!” I demanded, grabbing at his suit coat.
He stared down at my hand, a smile on his face. “You can touch me.”
“Yes! Now will you help me?”
My fingers trembled, the muscles in my neck strained. I was so close to getting back to Finn, and the urgency and fear welled up in my chest, threatening to burst through my skin.
“Listen,” I said, lowering my voice and forcing some modicum of steadiness in my tone. “I don’t have much time. I need to get back home. Can you help me?”
He studied me for a long time, his clear eyes looking right through me. I shifted on my feet, the feeling of someone sorting through my mind sending a shudder down my spine. I stood firm, meeting his intense gaze.
“You have the essence of the divine within you,” he said.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I, um, drank some bull’s blood? I’m hoping it keeps this conversation from killing me.”
His eyes flickered with a bright, golden flame, and a surge of energy burned through me, the magical blood making my limbs tingle with an unmistakable power.
He smiled. “You have already been to the world you seek,” he said.
I frowned. “Uh, what?”
He turned on his heel and began marching forward at a quick pace so fast I had to jog to catch up.
“I think I would have known if I entered another world,” I huffed behind him.
“But you wouldn’t know.” We arrived on the sidewalk at the edge of Central Park, a line of taxis edging through the traffic. He craned his neck, his intense gaze passing over the bright yellow cabs. “We need to find the right one.”
“The right what? Where are we going?” I scratched the back of my neck, exhaustion taking over my limbs. My shoulders ached and my feet hurt from walking, but I knew I was close to home. Somehow.
His eyes brightened, and he hailed a cab. It swerved to the sidewalk, stopping with a sharp jerk. He turned to me with a smile. “We’re going to your dreamworld. From there, you can wake up in your own time.”
“How—?”
He slipped inside the cab, patting the leather interior beside him. With a resigned sigh, I followed, crouching to avoid banging my head.
The suited man leaned forward to the taxi driver. “Corner of Fifth Avenue and 58th Street, please.” He turned to me. “Your dad took you there when you were stationed at Fort Hamilton. He bought you a My Little Pony, and then you had lunch at The Russian Tea Room.”
Ice water filled my veins, and I backed into the corner of the cab, clutching onto the edge of the upholstery. “How did you know that?”
“We shall enter your dreamworld through your memory.”
“Through my memory?”
I glanced up at the rearview mirror, expecting a goblin or some other magical creature to be steering our magical mystery tour, but a nondescript middle-aged man stared forward, his head bobbing to Toto’s “Africa” drifting gently from the radio. Outside, the city whirled past, and I sat back, clutching my aching shoulder and wincing.
Bel took my hand. “Sorry. How rude of me.”
A flash of light blinded me for a minute, and just like that—my pain disappeared. I smiled up at him.
“Thanks,” I said.
He shrugged, releasing my fingers. “It’s the least I could do. Apparently, I’m the one who put you in this mess.”
I blinked, chuckling beneath my breath. “You honestly don’t remember? You made me swallow a little ball of light, gave me a fiery spear?”
He gazed out the window. “Time works differently for a god. The past. The present. They don’t really exist, not when there are worlds upon worlds.”
I drummed my hands against the upholstery. “I… I think I get it. I’m an Aisling. Shit gets confusing sometimes.”
He turned to me, leveling me with his clear stare. “I know what you are, Elizabeth Tanner, and what you will be.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What do you mean? You can read my future?”
He laughed. “Not the future.”
I massaged the space between my eyes. “Then, what?”
“Fate.”
The city blocks zoomed past, ticking off the silence between us.
“It’s good, what you’re doing,” Bel whispered.
“Like with the Fae? Someone’s gotta do something. I didn’t ask for it.”
He folded his long fingers together in his lap. “No, that was destined long ago.”
I blinked. “No shit?”
Bel settled his palms on his knees, his knuckles turning white. “What you are doing for Finn. For love. There is no greater cause than love.”
“And that wasn’t fated?”
He shook his head. “No. Love is the only force in the universe that cannot be written. No one knows what they will choose when it comes to love.”
“I do,” I said. “I’ll always choose Finn.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Always?”
The taxi jerked to a stop before I could reply. The driver didn’t demand any money, and for the first time, I noticed the meter flashing at zero, as if we hadn’t gone anywhere.
�
�We’re here.” Bel grabbed the door handle and pulled.
My heart pounded as recognition filled me. Outside the door of the taxicab was not the bustling toy store of FAO Schwarz, but the ruins of Finn’s castle in Connacht. Somehow, Bel had used my memory to find my dream—the one where I returned to this place.
“How is this fucking possible?” I whispered beneath my breath.
Bel stepped out the taxi and extended a hand. “Are you coming?”
I nodded and took his hand, letting him pull me free of the cab. As soon as my feet touched the ground, the taxi disappeared and the ocean wind roared in my ears. It was always the same season here. Fall. The leaves just beginning to turn, the smoke of faraway peat fires filling my lungs. My heart ached for Finn, and I glanced at the ground near a crumbling stone wall. That was where we made love. And that was where he had asked me to run away with him. God, if only I had said yes. There would have been no battles. No demons. No Trinity wars. No Fir Bolgs. No Fae rebellion. But maybe Bel was right. The only thing constant through all those trials was love.
“He’s over there.” Bel pointed to a copse of trees.
“I know,” I whispered, and I did, in the way you know and understand everything in a dream.
Bel took my hand. “Kiss him and you’ll wake up in your own time.”
I arched my eyebrow. “That’s it?”
He nodded. Thrusting his hands in his pockets, he glanced up at the sky. “It’s nice here.”
“Feel free to stay,” I joked.
He shook his head, staring out at the sea. “No, I need to get back to work.”
“Doing what?”
“Why, saving you, of course.” He glanced up at the sky and scratched his head. “A bright, shiny ball. Yes, I could do that.”
I scratched the back of my head. “Um, thanks…?”
He smiled. “I’m glad you found me, and I’m glad I could help you.”
I punched Bel playfully on the arm. “No problem, man.”
He just stared down his sleeve with a frown. Shaking his head, he let out a long exhale and pressed his hands down the front of his soiled suit.
Echoes from the Veil (Aisling Chronicles) Page 13
