Echoes from the Veil (Aisling Chronicles)

by Colleen Halverson

  …

  My eyes snapped open, and I reached out for Finn. A flood of panic surged through me as I patted the edge of the mat and discovered it empty.

  “Finn?” I called.

  No answer.

  I scrambled to my feet, throwing on my trousers and boots. The Morrígan had come for him. The Fir Bolgs had taken him somehow. He got sucked into the black hole. All sorts of horrible scenarios filled my head as I raced through the tunnels, calling his name.

  I barreled through the entrance and stopped dead in my tracks, my heart stopping for a moment.

  Finn stood there, his back to me. But that wasn’t what had me trembling against the cavern wall.

  Dragans.

  I rubbed my eyes, shaking my head to clear my vision. Dragans here. In the Seven Woods. Forest-green scales glistened in dazzling rainbow colors wherever the light shone on their packed, muscled bodies. Great bat wings stretched close to the tree line, and one of them stared at Finn, its yellow eyes blinking with heavy lids. It puffed smoke from its great nostrils and snarled, revealing a line of razor-sharp teeth.

  A pale head poked up from its back.

  “Malachy!” I cried out, a huge grin stretching across my face.

  He waved frantically. “Elizabeth! You’re back! My goodness, when they said you had traveled back in time, I thought for sure we would have seen the last of you. The Celts are such ghastly people. But look at you!” He gestured up and down at my Bronze Age attire. “In all that…homespun. Goodness.”

  He jumped down from the dragon and rubbed her neck. “I want to introduce you to the Emerald Clan.”

  “I…” My throat tightened, air refusing to fill my lungs.

  Finn sauntered back to me, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

  “Dragans…” He shook his head and rubbed the back of my neck, letting out a low chuckle. “Fecking dragans. Unbelievable.”

  Malachy glanced up at the dragan, and the creature’s mouth stretched into a ghastly smile. Its features began to fluctuate, scales softening to flesh, its enormous size shrinking, and in one blink of an eye a woman with dark green skin and long black hair stood before me, her eyes like two emeralds. The rest of the dragans followed suit, changing their shape and turning into human form. Malachy had once explained to me that púcas, or Fae changelings, could take many forms. Wolves, boars, eagles, deer, rabbits…but dragans? My breath escaped my lungs, and my lips parted in wonder.

  “Are you Princess Elizabeth?” the woman asked in a low voice.

  “I am,” I replied breathlessly.

  “I am Talia of the Emerald Clan.” She gave a short bow. “We have traveled many miles to meet the woman who defies the Fir Bolgs.”

  I held my hand to my heart. “I am deeply honored that you would be a part of our cause.”

  “Our clan has committed a dozen of our best warriors to the fight, Princess,” Talia said, her voice echoing in my mind.

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” Malachy interjected, folding his arms across his puffed chest. “Bulletproof scales. Breathes fire at a thirty-foot range. And this particular family has a blood feud with the Fir Bolgs that goes back ages.”

  Malachy turned to Talia and they seemed to exchange their own telepathic conversation. Malachy laughed.

  I gave a low bow to her, beaming from ear to ear. “I am in awe of your generosity. Please extend my humblest feelings of gratitude to you and the Emerald Clan.”

  An idea sparked in my brain. I needed more allies besides dragans and púcas, but this time, I wouldn’t ask nicely.

  I waved to the cave. “Please make yourself at home and help yourselves to our hospitality. I must speak privately to my counselors.”

  Malachy gestured to a lump of fur and bones I hadn’t noticed before, and my stomach did a somersault at the sight.

  “Talia allowed me to go on a hunt with them,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Never rode on a dragan before. Only just slightly terrifying.”

  I shook my head and let out a long exhale. “Let’s scrounge up something for breakfast,” I called to Finn and Malachy before darting back into the cave. “And talk about our next move.”

  …

  “No way,” Finn said, throwing his apple core into the fire pit. “We are not going to Amergin. You saw what happened last time.”

  I raised my hands. “The Fianna have weapons. Warriors. I think they will work with us.”

  Malachy nodded. “E’s right. Even just one Fianna headquarters has enough firepower to blast the Fir Bolgs straight to the Underworld. And a Fianna warrior or two wouldn’t hurt our cause, either.”

  “No.” Finn stood up, assuming an annoying alpha male pose and hovering in a corner. “How could you even suggest such a thing? After all you’ve gone through.”

  I lifted my chin. “Amergin has no choice. He either allies himself with me or the black hole will consume us all. The Fir Bolgs have the device, but Amergin has warriors. And I have the magic.”

  “And dragans!” Malachy interjected, pointing a finger toward the ceiling.

  Finn frowned. “You know you cannot trust Amergin.”

  “Oh, really? Because I had forgotten the time he married me off to a psychopath.”

  His face softened and he reached out to me.

  I wrenched away. “Amergin has soldiers. Real fighters. That’s all that matters. I won’t send my people to the slaughter. We need to form an alliance.”

  Finn gestured to the cave door. “We have a dragan! A dozen dragans! Isn’t that enough?”

  I shook my head. “That’s not going to matter on the ground, and you of all people should know that, Commander.”

  Finn glared at me, but he kept his mouth shut, his lips in a tight thin line.

  “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do. If there is some way to fuck me over, Amergin will probably do it in the end. But for now, we have a mutual goal and that’s good enough for me. We pay him a little visit, grab Torc, and return here. We steal the device and take Teamhair. That’s the plan, and if anyone disagrees, then feel free to stay here.”

  I glanced between Malachy and Finn, but neither one of them moved an inch.

  “Good.” I grabbed my spear, reveling in the magical hum racing through my arm. I turned toward the cavern entrance. “Let’s go.”

  Malachy jogged at my heels. “Can’t we leave from here?”

  I smiled, the bright sun raining down on my face as I walked outside and into the dazzling light. Talia stood there in human form, majestic and gleaming, talking with her fellow púcas in a musical language I had never heard before. I bowed to her, and she studied me with one emerald eye.

  “Talia,” I said. “If you are willing and rested, I have a special mission for you.”

  She paused. “I am happy to assist.”

  I smiled. “We’re going to pay an old friend a visit, but do you think you could change to your dragan form?”

  She nodded, and in seconds, a dragan stood before me once again, smoke exhaling from her snout.

  Malachy’s eyes widened, and he rubbed his hands together in delight.

  Finn raced up to my side. “Elizabeth, don’t—”

  I had already closed my eyes, power surging through me, seeking out the energy of that gobshite bard Amergin. He was exactly where I hoped he would be, and when I opened my eyes again, I had to stifle a barking laugh as Malachy, Finn, and I stood in the Great Hall of Trinity Galway, Talia ducking her long neck and bellowing at suddenly being so contained in such tight quarters.

  Fianna soldiers backed away, crying out and tumbling chairs and tables. They reached for their weapons, but I used my mind to stop them in their tracks.

  A low, thickly accented voice echoed through the hall. “Princess Elizabeth. This is quite a surprise.”

  I turned to the great door and stared at the
bard for a long hard minute. My nemesis. My sworn enemy. And now my only hope for victory. “Hello, Amergin.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  As to be expected, Niall and Aoife, Amergin’s personal bodyguards, barreled forward, but Talia chuffed, barring her razor-sharp teeth. They paused, hands on their weapons, glancing at each other and back at the towering dragan.

  “Call off your goons, Amergin,” I said. “I just want to talk.”

  Amergin glanced up at Talia and raised an eyebrow. “Does this conversation require a dragan?”

  “As a matter of fact, it does.” I looked around the hall, glowering at the Fianna warriors reaching for their weapons. “Clear the room. Aoife and Niall, too.”

  His two personal guards let out grunts of protest, but Amergin waved them away. “Leave us.”

  Slowly, the Fianna soldiers melted off into the shadows, and the hall stood empty except for Amergin, Finn, Malachy, Talia, and me.

  Amergin peered at Finn from beneath hooded eyelids. “The last time I saw you, you were making an unbreakable oath to our goddess.”

  I stepped toward Amergin. “And the last time I saw you, you were trying to sell me to the Fir Bolgs. Do you have any idea why they wanted me so badly?”

  “I assumed to murder you.” Amergin’s mouth turned up in a sickening smile.

  I shook my head. “You thought you could work with them, but you had no idea what they had planned.”

  “I have told you many times,” Amergin barked. “The affairs of the Fae are none of our concern.”

  I locked gazes with him, taking in his searing blue eyes, his sharp cheekbones. Once, this man had provoked unspeakable fear inside of me, but now I saw him as he was: an old man, well past his prime, drowning in delusions of grandeur.

  A well of calm enveloped me, and I knew it wasn’t my powers or the fact that I was heir to Tír na nÓg that gave me so much confidence as I stood before him, but rather the strength of my own convictions. In the face of so much chaos, I knew the way forward, and he could follow me—or die. I had made a choice to lead, to defeat the Fir Bolgs and the wizard Thornton. I couldn’t go back now.

  I gestured sharply to the ceiling. “Have you looked outside lately? Why do you think a black hole has suddenly opened up in the sky? The Fir Bolgs want to create their own dimension,” I said. “They are using the wizard Edward Thornton to create a portal into Mag Mell. They have a device, powerful enough to sever Tír na nÓg from the Tree of Life.”

  “There is no such device,” Amergin sneered. “There is nothing that could accomplish such a feat, even if Thornton managed to create that portal.”

  Finn stepped forward, his hand over his heart. “I have seen the device. The Red Druid Morven was trying to dismantle it before the Fir Bolgs killed him.”

  “So what of it?” Amergin blinked slowly. “You have no idea if the device works or not.”

  Malachy sauntered to my side, his hands in his pockets. “It could if it contained the blood of the Morrígan.”

  Amergin’s eyes blazed. “Cursed Fae. You dare speak the name of our goddess?”

  “He’s right.” I held up a hand to stop Malachy from charging Amergin. “The Fir Bolgs managed to get a hold of her essence. We have no idea how. Morven once said the Morrígan was a part of the magic that created the Veil. If the Fir Bolgs have that power, they’ll be unstoppable.”

  Amergin seethed, his chest rising and falling fast. “You want the Fianna to aid you, then.”

  “Yes,” I replied. “But on my terms.”

  He scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t think so, Elizabeth.”

  “What do you think is causing that black hole? The gods are at war and the universe is unstable. This is it, Amergin. This is the time to fight back. You want to lose your magic? Everything you hold dear?” I pointed at him. “How will you prevent the Fir Bolgs from taking this fortress?”

  “The same way we have always protected our own,” he snapped. “We do not meddle—”

  “—in Fae affairs,” I said, finishing his usual retort. “I’ve heard that story before. But this isn’t about the Fae. This isn’t even about Trinity. This is about the end of the world. The end of magic. The end of everything. You ignore this threat at your peril.”

  Amergin’s face turned a vivid shade of red. “Don’t assume to lecture me, Princess. Just because you can’t manage to keep your kingdom does not mean you can drag Trinity into your little rebellion.”

  “The American government is supplying the Fir Bolgs with weapons, arming them to the teeth. They want them to succeed.” I shook my head, clutching my fists at my sides. “The lines of battle have changed, Amergin. You thought with the Veil, the boundaries between our worlds were so simple, but they never have been. Our worlds belong together. Their connection is the lifeblood to our power.” I glanced at Finn and my heart swelled, too big for my chest. “And yes, it’s messy and sometimes things don’t make a lot of sense, but however different we might be, we need to stick together.” I thrust back my shoulders and stood in line with Malachy, Finn, and Talia flanking me. “Trinity must join forces to defeat the Fir Bolgs.”

  The silence in the Great Hall hung thick in the air, my faltering breath and racing heartbeat the only sounds in my ears. Amergin stood as still as a statue, his broad shoulders slanting slightly as he frowned.

  “What do you suggest?” he said in a quiet voice.

  “Weapons,” I said firmly. “And soldiers.”

  Amergin’s blue eyes narrowed. “That can be arranged…” he drawled, “but only with certain conditions.”

  I teleported in front of Amergin, and he startled, stumbling backward.

  “Let me tell you about my own conditions,” I hissed. “You give me all the enchanted weapons you have in your arsenal. Call up fifty of your best fighters and get Loren to rally fifty fighting Druids.”

  Blue flame sparked in his irises. “You cannot ask Trinity to devote so many to your cause.”

  “Fifty Fianna and fifty Druids,” I spat. “Or I ask this dragan over here to burn this fortress to the ground. I would rather you be fighting at my side than fighting against me behind my back.”

  Talia punctuated my word with a puff of smoke, sparks falling from her teeth as she stretched her long green neck into the air and opened her wings in a threatening, dominant gesture.

  Amergin studied me, his frown contorted to a grimace of pure malice. I expected him to zap me with magic, but he didn’t move, his calculating mind no doubt trying to figure out how to screw me seven ways to Sunday. It didn’t matter. I was all in, and I wasn’t about to lose. Amergin would give me what I needed, or I would take what I needed and destroy Trinity. Not just Fianna headquarters, but the Druid compound, too.

  He cleared his throat. “Very well, then.”

  I backed away, nodding to Amergin. “I’m pleased we could come to an agreement.”

  “But there is something you need to know.” Amergin’s face turned grave, his gaze shifting to Finn. “You may want to sit down.”

  A chill ran through my veins, and my stomach fluttered. Dozens of scenarios ran through my head, all of them involving Finn being in mortal danger.

  “What is it?” Finn said softly, his muscles tense.

  Amergin let out a deep exhale. “Charlotte Hayes is here,” he said. “Your wife is alive.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Your wife is alive.

  I heard the words, but they didn’t resonate. I almost laughed out loud or perhaps sobbed, my emotions in chaos.

  Finn staggered backward, his chest caving in. He shook his head, all the blood draining from his face. “You’re lying.”

  Amergin raised his hands. “I know it sounds impossible, but she was taken into Fianna custody after a firefight in London. They transferred her back to us.”

  Charlotte Hayes. Finn’s wife.
She had supposedly died long ago in a fire. I glanced over at Malachy. He stared at the floor, his shoulders slumped. He knew something.

  Finn barreled toward Amergin, breathing hard, sweat beading on his upper lip. “Charlotte is alive? After all this time?”

  Amergin nodded. “She’s been working for the American government. She claims to have knowledge about the Fir Bolgs. Perhaps you could speak to her, bring us intel to help our now mutual cause.” Amergin glanced at me when he said the word mutual, and I bit back a scream. He could agree to my terms outwardly, but he would never truly be an ally.

  My mind returned to the crisis at hand, my anger splintering and turning to a maelstrom of emotions. I thought of the blond woman in the London Underground. The one in black shouting commands. We had locked eyes for a split second, but she knew. She knew who I was. Questions raced through my mind, and I wanted to crawl out of my skin. What had she been doing all this time? How long had she been working for the American government? Did my father know about her? What did she know about the Fir Bolgs?

  Finn paced the floor, and he ran his hand through his hair before he turned back to us. I nearly gasped at the ghastly pallor of his face.

  “I don’t want to speak to her,” he snarled. “That woman is a ghost. Charlotte died years ago. I mourned her. She never came back to me. She never—” He turned, his voice breaking with emotion. My hands ached to reach for him, to hold him, but loneliness surrounded Finn like a plate of armor, the hatred and pain and sadness radiating from him as unbreakable as a ward I couldn’t penetrate.

  “I will speak to her.” I straightened my shoulders, heading toward the dungeon.

  “No!” Finn grabbed hold of my arm, and I stared down at his fingers until he pried them away.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, backing away, his face a riot of feeling.

  I wanted to slip into his arms, stroke his back, his dark hair, find anchor in the warmth of chest, but instead I shrank from him, taking deep, gulping breaths.