by Jodi McIsaac
The mood was somber as the four of them sat around the table in the newly restored poppy field in Cedar and Finn’s home, their hands clutching steaming mugs of spiced wine. “What if we’re too late?” Jane asked. “What if he’s dead when we get there?”
“I don’t know,” Cedar said, staring into the swirling steam rising off her wine. “We don’t have a Plan B. But we’ll think of one if we have to. I just hope that we don’t have to.”
“What kind of a place do you think this ‘Castle of the Blood Visage’ is, anyway?” Jane asked, her nose wrinkled. “Doesn’t sound all that cheery. I kind of thought the Unseen were all, you know, friendly. Pixies and mermaids and all that jazz. The ‘gentle folk.’”
Felix snorted, and Cedar wondered if he was going to point out the damage that Irial had inflicted. But instead he said, “You weren’t there for the battle with the Merrow, and you haven’t been on the barbed end of a leprechaun’s wit. The Irish started calling the Unseen the ‘gentle folk’ to appease them, so that they’d stop playing pranks on them and cursing their cattle. But that was years ago…back when people still believed.” His voice sounded sad. “They just keep to themselves now, have for years. But even if they’re not all rainbows and lucky charms, they don’t deserve this. They deserve a chance.”
“Who deserves a chance?” came a small voice from the doorway. Eden was standing there, a book dangling in one hand.
Cedar jumped up. “Eden! I thought you were asleep, honey.”
Eden shrugged. “I wanted to see if you were home yet. What were you talking about?”
“Nothing. Let me tuck you back in.”
“I heard you mention Abhartach. Is that who you were visiting?”
Cedar sighed. Apparently Eden was not going to let this drop. She wondered how much her daughter had heard. “No. We’re going to see Abhartach tomorrow,” she answered. “Today we were visiting some other, uh, people.”
“Like who? Did you see the Merrow?”
“No, why?” Cedar asked, surprised.
“Just wondering,” Eden said with another shrug.
“We’re just touching base with some of the other magical creatures who live on Earth. They’re called the Unseen,” Cedar said, hoping that little bit of information would be enough to satisfy Eden’s curiosity without inciting her to come with them. “It’s part of Mummy’s job.” She decided it was time to change the subject. “How was your day? Did you meet Niall?”
“Yeah!” Eden exclaimed, and then proceeded to tell her all about his house and the forest where they’d played and what they’d had for dinner. “We’re going to hang out again tomorrow.”
“That’s great!” Cedar answered. “Now off to bed. We’ll be gone again in the morning, but hopefully not for too much longer.”
“Okay. Tell Abe I said hi.”
Early the next morning, Cedar, Finn, Felix, and Jane appeared on a remote mountainside in MacGillicuddy’s Reeks. The clouds above them were lined with a fiery pink as the sun rose in the distance. Most of the mountains were a deep emerald green, but peaks of sheer rock stabbed at the sky on the horizon. In the valley just below them, a mirrorlike lake reflected it all. Cedar had gone skiing in the Rockies a few times, and had seen more spectacular mountain vistas, but these…these felt magical, as though she’d gone back in time to the days when the Tuatha Dé Danann called this land home. She wondered if any of her ancestors had stood in this same place and marveled at this same scene.
“So, what’s your plan? To hike around and hope we bump into a castle filled with vampires?” Jane asked.
“We could,” Finn answered, “but I was thinking it might be faster to fly. There are a lot of unexplored areas in these mountains, and the fortress might very well be invisible to humans. I’ll take an eagle form to survey the landscape from the air.”
“Or we could start by looking in the areas where the most hikers have gone missing,” Jane said. “If there really are vampire-like creatures living around here, they need to get blood from somewhere, right?”
They all turned and stared at her. “What?” she asked. “Don’t you guys watch crime shows?”
“It makes sense, I guess,” Cedar said. “But how do we find that out?”
“I did some research last night, before we left Halifax,” Jane said with a shrug. “It didn’t take long. Ireland’s missing-persons database is easy to get into. I thought it might be good information to have, just in case.” She pulled her tablet out of her backpack, then glanced at Finn. “Not that I don’t think your plan is a good one! This might just help narrow down the area you have to fly over.”
Finn looked suitably impressed. “Sounds good to me.”
Jane pulled up a spreadsheet. “So, there’s no guarantee that they’re related, but it seems kind of weird that most people who go missing in these parts were hiking in the Beenkeragh area. The online records only go back about twenty years, but of all the missing persons, over three quarters of them were last seen there.”
“You’re amazing,” Felix said, his voice hushed with awe, and Jane blushed.
“I’m just a geek with a computer,” she said. “But does that help?”
“Beenkeragh is about three miles from here,” Finn said. “You guys head in that direction, and I’ll see if I can pinpoint the location of the fortress from the air.”
Finn transformed and took flight, and the rest of them started following a narrow path that was more like a goat trail—a tiny, winding gap between the rocks and the brush.
After they’d walked for about half an hour, Finn joined them again. “You’re headed the right way,” he said. “It’s incredible—there’s a castle built right into the side of the mountain. It must be invisible to humans or someone would have stumbled across it ages ago. It’s huge.”
“Unless whoever stumbles across it gets invited to stay for dinner,” Jane muttered, following Finn as he led them onto a slightly different path.
Cedar lagged behind a bit so she could have a private word with Felix.
“How’s it going?” she asked him. “She seems to be more herself again.”
He nodded slowly. “For now,” he said. “I think this trip will be good for her, as odd as that sounds. But…she’s still not over him. She’s trying, I can see that, and sometimes it seems like things are back to normal. But we still haven’t, you know…”
“Ah,” Cedar said, then fell silent. She searched for the right words, but he continued before she could find them.
“It’s not just that. She’ll seem like she’s all right, and then she’ll say she needs to be alone for a bit, and I’ll hear her crying in the other room.”
Cedar gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry. It must be hard on you. But I think it’s amazing that you’re sticking with her. She’ll come around.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself. How’s it going with you guys? I’m guessing it’s been a bit of an adjustment, moving to Tír na nÓg and becoming queen in one fell swoop.”
“You can say that again,” she admitted. “Depends on the day—or the hour. We fight, and then we make up, and then I’m furious at him, and then I can’t live without him. It’s kind of maddening, to tell you the truth. But I suppose I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Felix wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “Well, we both have to believe it’s going to work out in the end—and that it’s worth the struggle.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Jane called back, waiting on the side of the path for them to catch up.
“Just a little history lesson,” Felix said smoothly. “Did you know that some people think this castle and the fine folk who live there were the inspiration for Bram Stoker’s Dracula?”
“I thought that was some Vlad the Impaler guy from Transylvania,” Jane said skeptically.
“That’s one theory, yes,” he said. “But the Irish word for ‘bad blood’ is pronounced ‘droc-ola.’ And Stoker’s sister-in-law
was a MacGillicuddy, so he would have heard the stories of the blood-drinking fairies in these parts.”
“How on earth do you know all that?” Jane asked.
“I’m not just a pretty face, my lady,” he said with a wink. “No offense, but Halifax got a little boring after twenty years. I read a lot of books.”
“Stop talking,” Finn said suddenly. They all fell silent and froze in place. Finn slowly circled back to join them. “We’re not alone,” he whispered. “Stay alert, but try to act natural.”
Easier said than done, Cedar thought. She didn’t know why they didn’t just call out Abhartach’s name, but she trusted Finn’s instincts. They crept forward, walking in single file. She looked around nervously. She had the distinct feeling they were being watched.
Then she saw it. It was just as Finn had described—a tall stone castle that looked as if it had been carved out of the mountainside. From the sky, it would have looked just like another mountain, and she wondered how Finn had even noticed it. It was awe inspiring, but there was nothing beautiful about it. It was all hard, jagged edges, piercing spires, and an imposing iron gate studded with spikes the size of her forearm. So intent was she on the castle that she didn’t notice the dwarves materializing around them until one of them brandished a sword in her face.
“Hey!” Cedar yelled, and before she had time to think, she had raised a circle of fire around herself and her three companions, forcing the dwarves to jump back.
“Bring it down, Your Majesty,” Felix muttered in her ear. She lowered her hand and the fire vanished. As soon as the last flames flickered out, Felix started speaking the same strange guttural language he had spoken to Abhartach when they raised him from his grave. There was a volley of words between Felix and the dwarves, all of whom had dark tattoos all over their bodies and were armed with swords, spears, and daggers. But now that her initial surprise had worn off, Cedar noticed how thin and tired they looked. The one brandishing the sword seemed as though he could barely keep it aloft.
“I knew we shouldn’t have brought her,” Felix said, stepping protectively in front of Jane. “You were right,” he said to Finn. “They’re sick too. They say they need blood.”
“I have blood!” Cedar cried, stepping forward.
“Wait!” Jane said. “You need that blood for Abhartach so he can find the jewels, right? You can’t give it to these guys.”
Cedar hesitated. “Felix, will you translate for me?” she asked. “Tell them…tell them who I am, and that we are here to help them. Tell them that all of the Unseen are sick, and that if we can just see Abhartach, we might be able to find an antidote.”
Felix relayed this message to the dwarves, who grunted amongst themselves. His face grew red, and Cedar could see a vein throbbing in his forehead. “What are they saying?” she asked.
“They’ll take us to Abhartach, but they want to keep Jane as collateral in case your plan doesn’t work.”
Cedar stared at him. “Are they insane? We’re trying to help them!” Her mind whirled. She had to get her friend away—fast—but she couldn’t send her back to Halifax in case Troy showed up. “For goodness sake, don’t let anyone see you,” she said under her breath before she opened a sidh in midair and shoved her friend through it. Without her even having to ask, Finn had moved beside her to close the sidh. The dwarves started shouting all around them.
“Thank you,” Felix said. “Where did you send her?”
“Our home in Tír na nÓg,” Cedar answered. “She should be safe there.” She turned to face the dwarves again, eyes blazing. “Tell them that unless they take us to Abhartach, they are all going to die. The time for pride is over. I can see the sickness in them, and it is the same that is ailing all of the Unseen. Tell them that if Abhartach can help us, the Tuatha Dé Danann and all the Unseen will owe them their gratitude.”
Felix relayed her message, and the dwarves started to argue with one another, shouting and grunting and brandishing their weapons. Cedar pulled Felix and Finn in close. “This is taking too long,” she muttered. “Let’s just go find Abhartach ourselves. He must be inside that castle.”
“I wouldn’t advise it, Your Majesty,” Felix said. “Dwarves are notoriously loyal to their kin. If we offend them, it will be difficult for Abhartach to help us without losing face.”
Cedar was preparing a retort when one of the dwarves approached Felix and barked a few short words. “We’re in,” Felix said. “Let’s go—and try to act submissive, if at all possible. We wounded their pride by recognizing their weakness.”
They silently approached the fortress, surrounded by dwarves on all sides. As they came near, the iron gate dissolved into smoke. Cedar hurried forward, but was prodded back by a couple of spear-wielding dwarves. She felt a burst of annoyance—between the three of them, she was certain they could take on this rabble of weakened warriors—but she knew Felix was right. They needed Abhartach’s help…that is, if he was still alive when they got there.
The entrance hall of the fortress was dark and cold, its rough stone walls hung sporadically with low-lit torches. They were ushered up an uneven staircase carved into the back wall, and through a dizzying series of tunnels that took them deep inside the mountain.
“Hey, this is kind of like Felix’s house,” Cedar said to Finn out of the corner of her mouth, but she fell silent when the dwarf next to her gave her a jab with the hilt of his sword. They walked past a series of heavy wooden doors, and their escorts stopped at the last one. One of them disappeared inside, closing the door firmly behind him. After a few moments, he came out and spoke to Felix.
“We can go in,” Felix said, and Cedar and Finn followed him and the dwarf into a small round room. Abhartach was lying under a pile of animal skins on a thick wooden bed, which was the only piece of furniture in the room. He gazed at them fixedly, nodding slowly in greeting. Then he spoke, and Felix translated.
“He says that the Tuatha Dé Danann once again need his help.”
“We can help each other,” Cedar corrected. “Tell him that if we find the jewels, he and his people will be well again.”
She stepped back and waited while Felix and Abhartach conversed. Her heart was pounding so loudly she wondered if the sound was luring in the dwarves, but then she remembered that her blood was of no use to them. Still, she felt uneasy. So much for the Unseen being benign creatures. There had been too many “missing” persons on Jane’s list for that to be true. At least there would be one silver lining if they failed: MacGillicuddy’s Reeks would be a safe place for humans to hike again.
“I’ve told him everything we know about the jewels. He says he’ll do it—if he can. You can give him the blood bags now.” Cedar opened her backpack and hauled out the cache of plastic bags, handing one to Abhartach. He ripped a hole in the end with his teeth and started sucking on it hard.
“So they all drink human blood?” Cedar asked as she watched Abhartach empty one bag after another.
“No, or at least they don’t all need to,” Felix answered after relaying the question to Abhartach, who gave his answer between gulps. “Only the mages—the dwarves who can do magic like Abhartach—need blood to enhance their powers. But others believe it gives them greater strength, and can heal illnesses.”
Cedar didn’t feel all that relieved. “Remind me to do something about that once all this is over,” she whispered to Finn.
“Like what? You going to start shipping in bags of blood?” he whispered back.
“Of course not. But if I’m going to help them stay alive, it’s on my hands if they eat any more innocent humans.”
“You’re not responsible for their actions,” Finn said.
“Yeah, just their lives,” she countered.
“Shhh!” Felix said, and they all fell silent as Abhartach sat up straighter in his bed and closed his eyes. Cedar held her breath. She thought of Logheryman and the old selkie and wondered how many others had died in the past few days. She wanted to shout at Abhartach
to hurry up, but she bit her tongue.
The dwarf chieftain started rocking back and forth and moaning in a low, rasping voice. His voice slowly intensified, and soon he was chanting loudly. Then his eyes flew open, but Cedar could only see the whites—his pupils were rolling around in the back of his head.
And then it was over as suddenly as it had begun. Abhartach collapsed back onto the rough pillow of the bed and lay perfectly still, his eyes closed, his arms outstretched. The other dwarf hurried over and pulled the skin covers up over him, glaring at Cedar.
“Is he okay?” she asked Felix, who had also rushed to Abhartach’s side. The dwarf’s eyelids slowly opened, then closed again. He reached out a tattooed hand and grappled for Felix, who leaned in close enough so that the dwarf’s lips were almost brushing his ear. When he straightened up again, the look on his face made Cedar’s heart constrict.
“They are nowhere on Ériu,” he said. “He says they are either in some other realm…or they do not exist.”
CHAPTER 11
Eden lay awake in her room until she was sure her parents had left to visit the dwarf. It was time for another lesson, and she had lots to tell Helen—and to ask her. After checking to make sure the coast was clear, she made a sidh into the druid’s room. Helen was at her desk, which is where she always was when Eden saw her.
“Hi, Helen!” she said brightly.
Helen looked at her suspiciously. “You’re in a good mood. Did you talk to older Eden again?”
“No,” Eden answered. “But…can you keep a secret?”
Helen laughed, but it was a strangely sad sound. “I’ve kept secrets my whole life, my dear. What is it?”
Eden sat down on the bed. “Well, I was, um, playing with a new friend, and I know I’m not supposed to, but I kind of made a sidh.”
“And how is that a secret? You make one to come here all the time. Everyone knows that’s your ability.”
