by Jodi McIsaac
Eden begrudgingly settled onto the sofa, and Cedar led Jane and Finn to the kitchen.
Jane poured them each a glass of wine and raised her own glass after serving her friends. “To my best friend, Cedar; her long-lost lover, Finn; and their magic baby, Eden, who are abandoning me to this mundane world and going off to assume their true identities as fairies in the not-so-mythical-after-all land of Tír na nÓg. Wow. It sounds so strange when you say it out loud. But here’s to living in crazy times. And now for my only word of Irish: Sláinte!”
Finn clinked glasses with them but was still frowning. Cedar poked him in the ribs. “Come on, you’re not really worried, are you? How could a random druid possibly know what awaits us in Tír na nÓg? It’s like listening to a fortune teller.” Now that she was drinking wine in her brightly lit kitchen in the company of friends, the man’s warning seemed insignificant, comical almost.
“How many druids are there, anyway?” Jane said. “I thought Maeve was the only one.”
“No,” Finn answered. “There are many, or at least there used to be. Their numbers have certainly diminished since the exile.”
“Exile?” Cedar asked. Every day, she was learning new information, stories, legends, and facts about her people. She knew it would take years to get up to speed.
“Like Maeve, druids are… complicated,” he said, measuring his words carefully. “Their magic is very powerful, and they used to hold a very important position in our society. They were the teachers, philosophers, historians, and judges. And they used to live and work very closely with us. Not only with us, of course; there were many druids who served the kings and chieftains of this world as well.”
“You said they ‘used to’ live and work closely with you—not anymore?” Cedar asked.
“Sadly, no. The story goes that many years ago, when the druids still lived in Tír na nÓg, a druid stole away the lover of one of the Tuatha Dé Danann nobles. This flew in the face of convention; you see, druids were not considered our equals. It would be like the Queen of England running off with one of her servants. The noble was heartbroken and furious, and the High King at that time owed him a favor. So at the noble’s bequest, the king banished all druids from Tír na nÓg. It was a very harsh punishment for the fault of one man, especially considering the centuries of service they had given us.”
“Have they ever gone back?” Cedar asked.
“No. We have paid for the king’s rash decision. The druids had grown proud, and they felt that their exile was an insult too great to bear. They swore never to return unless they were given equal status with the Tuatha Dé Danann, including the right to assume the High Kingship. Of course, because my people are even prouder, we have refused, even though it would greatly benefit our land and society if they were to return.”
Secretly, Cedar could understand why the druids felt the way they did. It hadn’t escaped her notice that the Tuatha Dé Danann did not play well with others, be they humans, Merrow, leprechauns, or druids. Perhaps she could help change that, she thought. But out loud she asked, “So if Liam’s a druid, why would he have warned me to not go back?”
“I don’t know, but it worries me. As I said, druids have no great love for our kind. Maybe he knows how important you and Eden are to the rebuilding of Tír na nÓg, and he was trying to frighten you into staying here. But how would he know that unless one of us told him? On the other hand, it sounds like he really cared for Maeve. Maybe he was trying to protect you for her sake. Many druids do have the gift of foresight. But if that’s the case, I don’t understand why he didn’t give you more information.”
“I don’t get it either,” Cedar said. “He just walked around the corner and disappeared. But honestly, I think we still need to go. The longer we stay here, the greater the chance that Eden will slip up and open a sidh, and I can’t keep her cooped up in this apartment forever. Let’s just be extra careful while we’re there. If something happens, we can always come back. Lorcan’s dead. Nuala is still around, but she can’t hide forever, and we’re more likely to find her if we’re there.”
“Are you sure?” Jane asked. “Maybe you should just lie low for a while and let them sort things out over there in Tír na nÓg. You could come to the comic con in Vegas with me instead!” She was leaving in a few days, and had been talking about the trip for weeks.
Jane’s face was so imploring that Cedar had to laugh. “Oh, my dear,” she said, “I would love to go to Vegas with you, but the longer I put this off, the harder it will be. No, we’re leaving in the morning, vague warnings be damned. I want to get us all settled in and started on our new life. So you go to Vegas and have a blast, and if everything goes well, maybe I’ll come back for a visit in a couple of weeks.”
“You better, or I might just slip up and forget your alibi,” Jane said with a wink. Cedar glared at her. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m just kidding. I remember the whole story: You got back together with Eden’s dad and are moving to Australia so you can be together. You got a great job, are very happy, blah blah blah. And I’m subletting your apartment until you decide to sell it, whenever that might be. Thanks, again, by the way. This place is way nicer than my dingy hole in the wall.”
“No worries,” Cedar said. “Hey, maybe we can fix you up with one of the Tuatha Dé Danann.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “Puhleeze. I can barely handle human guys, let alone a fairy-god-man. Besides, they’re all… you know, gorgeous and shit.”
Cedar laughed. “And so are you, my friend. In your own funky way.”
CHAPTER 2
Cedar woke up alone in her bed to the sound of breakfast being prepared in the kitchen. She heard Eden’s excited chattering and smiled. Finn must be telling her stories again.
Finn had immediately bonded with their daughter, and his presence had gone a long way toward helping Eden feel safe. She never spoke of her kidnapping unless prompted, and even then she tended to only answer direct questions. Cedar didn’t want to push her for more information than she was ready to share, so she focused on showering her with love instead.
Together, Eden and Cedar loved to pepper Finn with questions about their “real” world. He seemed to enjoy answering as much as they enjoyed asking; the stories he told them about the Tuatha Dé Danann sounded like fairy tales, but he swore they were all true. Cedar’s desire to know more about the world of her birth parents grew stronger each day, and although her first priority was to take Eden somewhere safe, it wasn’t the only reason she was looking forward to going to Tír na nÓg. She wanted to help transform her homeland from the dry and barren place she had seen back into the paradise it had once been. She didn’t know what to expect when they returned. Would the land have rejuvenated itself in the weeks since Lorcan’s death? Or was there more work to be done? There was only one way to find out.
“Good morning!” she said brightly as she walked into the kitchen, trying to mask the fluttering in her stomach. Eden waved enthusiastically, her mouth filled with toast and peanut butter. For some reason, she was wearing a sparkly silver mitten on one hand. Jane, who had slept on the sofa, stuck out her bottom lip and took another sip of coffee.
Cedar filled her mug and then kissed Eden on the head. “Are you pretending to be Michael Jackson?” she asked, looking pointedly at the silver mitten.
“Who’s that?” Eden asked. “I’m Nuadu of the Silver Hand!”
“Who?”
“Our ancestor!” Eden exclaimed, waving her silver hand around. “His hand got cut off in a battle, so the doctor Dian Cecht gave him a silver one to wear instead. Kind of like Anakin Skywalker, except Anakin’s was black. But then Dian Cecht’s son, who was an even better doctor, gave Nuadu a new hand—a real one—and he became king. All Anakin turned into was Darth Vader.”
“Yes, I see where the comparison breaks down,” Cedar said, stifling a smile. “How are you enjoying your father’s history lessons?”
“Great!” Eden replied, her face lighting up. “Guess what else I
learned? There are four magic treasures in Tír na nÓg. There’s a pot that’s always filled with food, a sword that can never be beaten, a spear that never misses, and a big stone that roars.”
“A stone that roars? That seems like an odd treasure,” Cedar remarked over the rim of her coffee cup, one eyebrow raised.
“They’re not all in Tír na nÓg,” Finn corrected his daughter. “Our people brought them here to Earth when we first arrived from the Four Cities, and then to Tír na nÓg when we lost the battle with the Milesians. The sword, the spear, and the cauldron are still there, but the stone was lost. It’s called the Lia Fáil, the Stone of Destiny.”
“Well, our destiny is to finish packing and head out on our own adventure,” Cedar said, ruffling Eden’s hair. “Finish your breakfast, and then go brush your teeth.”
A couple of hours later they were ready. Cedar had gone over their alibi with Jane one more time to make sure she had it straight. Eden had packed her favorite stuffed animals and books into a backpack and was wearing what she thought was her most fairylike dress.
Before his parents had returned to Tír na nÓg a couple of weeks ago, Finn had given back to his mother her half of the starstone so that they’d still be able to communicate. He activated it now and waited for her response.
Cedar was glad to hear Riona’s voice. “Are you ready?” Riona asked through the stone.
“We are,” Finn responded. “Where shall we meet you?”
There was a pause, and then Riona answered, “By the white tree, I think.”
There must have been something strange about her expression, because Finn leaned closer to the stone and asked, “Is everything okay?”
Cedar edged in to see Riona’s face. Catching sight of her, Riona gave her a nod and a small wave.
“Things are… interesting. I’d forgotten how the politics of this place can be. But I’ll explain everything when you get here.” She waved her hand again and was gone.
“Well, shall we?” Cedar asked.
Eden ran up and took her hand, squeezing it tightly. Cedar knelt down and hugged her daughter. “Remember, baby, I’m with you this time. It’s going to be such an adventure, and we’re all going to be together—you, me, and Daddy—so you don’t have to be afraid of anything.”
Cedar stood up, trying to keep her legs from shaking. Despite her encouraging words to Eden, she was more than a little nervous. The last time she’d been to Tír na nÓg, it had literally been the death of her. Eden’s experience hadn’t been much rosier—she’d been taken there against her will, like a sacrificial lamb. And Finn had fled the place when he was only twelve years old, driven out by war and a tyrannical leader. But now they were all going back. They had changed everything about Tír na nÓg the last time they were there, and now it was home—or it very soon would be. She took a deep breath, knowing that her life would never be the same once she walked through that door.
“I’m ready,” Eden said. “The white tree.”
Cedar gave Jane another quick hug. “Be safe,” Jane whispered, her eyes filled with worry.
Eden reached out to grab the doorknob to her bedroom. They had discovered that while she had used a tree and an archway to open the sidhe in Tír na nÓg, she still needed to use a door on Earth. She closed her eyes and then pulled the door open. The air behind it shimmered, moving in waves like heat off asphalt. Through it, Cedar could make out the vague outline of a white tree with several figures gathered beneath it. Grasping Eden’s hand tightly in one hand and her small suitcase in the other, Cedar walked through the door. She sensed Finn’s presence directly behind her.
The first thing she noticed was the change in the air. It felt lighter, thinner somehow, though she could breathe just fine. She tried to remember if it had been this way the last time she’d been to Tír na nÓg, but so much had been going on that she’d hardly taken the time to notice the quality of the air. She was surprised to see that the landscape looked much as it had before—brown, dry, and barren. The grass crunched beneath her feet, and the uniform gray of the sky did little to defuse the dead atmosphere. But she barely had time to register these thoughts before she was swept into a bone-crushing hug by the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He was tall and lean, with blond hair that looked as if a woman’s hands had just been run through it. His straight nose and chiseled cheekbones provided the perfect setting for a pair of piercing blue eyes that were twinkling with mirth. She could feel the muscles rippling in his chest as he hugged her, and she hoped she wasn’t blushing. He didn’t show any signs of letting go.
“All right, Felix, let her breathe,” Finn said.
“Felix?” Cedar gasped, pulling away to get a better look at him. Gone was the old fisherman she had known, with his bushy white beard and small beady eyes. In his place stood this godlike creature, who suddenly flashed her a wide grin. “You kept your teeth!” she exclaimed. Instead of the perfect smile she’d expected to go with the rest of his gorgeous body, Felix’s grin was still punctuated by two gold teeth and one black one.
“Just for now. I wanted you to recognize me,” he said, laughing. “Damn, it’s good to see you. And you, too, little fairy,” he said, bending down to greet Eden.
“Eden, this is Felix,” Cedar explained. “He used to look like an old man, with a big white beard. But that was just a costume—a very good one. Do you remember him?” Eden nodded and smiled shyly. Felix had doted on her while he was supervising Cedar’s recovery in the days following their return from Tír na nÓg.
One day, Eden had discovered a wounded bird at the playground. She had brought it back to Felix, begging him to heal it. When he did, that had sealed the deal for Eden—she and Felix became fast friends. She had taught him how to play Go Fish, and he’d tried to teach her how to pronounce his real name, Toirdhealbhach MacDail re Deachai. It had come to no one’s surprise when they’d decided she would keep calling him Felix. He had come back to Tír na nÓg only a week ago, once he was certain that Cedar and Eden were both in perfect health.
“Why do you look so different?” Eden asked him.
“Well, when I was in Ériu, in your other world, I thought it might be fun to pretend to be someone else for a while. I don’t get to do that too much around here. But now that I’m back home, I figured I should probably look like myself.”
“You sound different too,” Eden said, looking puzzled.
“Aye, do I now, young lassie?” Felix said, putting on the heavy accent he’d adopted while living in Halifax. “Don’t worry, I’m still the same lovable guy, just without the beard and the strange words. It was great fun, though—definitely my favorite disguise yet. Here are some other people you might not recognize at first.” He stepped aside, and a slim, graceful woman rushed forward to hug them. It was Riona, but she looked thirty years younger than when Cedar had seen her last. With her dark hair and fair skin, she could have easily passed for Cedar’s sister. Molly was there too, looking like her usual teenage self.
“Hello, Cedar. Hello, Eden,” Riona said. “It’s so good to see you. Do you recognize me, Eden? I know I don’t look like a grandma anymore, but I still am. Remember how I turned into a kitty for you?” Eden smiled and nodded. “This is Molly—she looks just the same, but I think you met her only once or twice, so you might not remember her. Molly was born in Halifax, just like you, so you’re not the only one who’s new here.”
Cedar was encouraged by Riona’s words. She hadn’t thought of it before, but the rebels had been away from Tír na nÓg for more than two decades. Some of the younger children had never seen their homeland before, and Finn and his brother, Dermot, had spent the majority of their lives away from it. Even those who had spent centuries in Tír na nÓg must have felt disoriented. So much had changed, so little was as they remembered. Cedar wasn’t the only one who felt like a stranger in this place.
Just then, she heard a loud voice call out, Cedar! Welcome home! Cedar spun around, looking for the source of the voice. Finn burst out
laughing. “What…,” she started to ask, and then spotted a tiny figure running toward them from off in the distance. She heard the voice again. I’m coming! Hang on!
“Nevan!” Cedar cried, realizing that the voice she’d heard had been Nevan speaking to her telepathically. In a few moments the pixie-like woman was upon them, hugging Cedar and Finn and laughing.
“I hope I didn’t scare you!” she said, out loud this time.
Cedar grinned. She had liked Nevan from the beginning. “No, I was just surprised, that’s all. I keep forgetting you can do that.”
“It’s very good to see you.” Nevan beamed. “And… don’t worry. We’re going to sort everything out. Hey, Eden!” Nevan knelt down so that she was at Eden’s level.
“Hi, Nevan,” Eden said, smiling.
Nevan and her partner, Sam, had been two of the last to return to Tír na nÓg after Lorcan’s downfall. Nevan had fallen in love with Cedar’s homeland and had been reluctant to leave it, especially for the gray skies of Tír na nÓg. But Sam had convinced her that they needed to play a part in their world’s renewal, and so they had returned.
