“Watch yourself.” Candace glowered. “In the new order, you’ll want to make sure your kind is on the right side.”
Phelan laughed bitterly. “I know who you’re working for. You’re a fool to believe anything they say.”
“You know nothing!” She snarled. “The Fir Bolgs have achieved more for liberation in this past year than you and your raggle-taggle band of thugs have attempted for centuries. We will win this war. And we will remember our allies.”
“That doesn’t sound like liberation to me.” Phelan raised his chin and narrowed his eyes at her small form.
“This is a revolution, Phelan,” Candace said. “Not a child’s game. Not everybody wins in the end.”
She barked an order to the other Fir Bolgs who then pushed me out the door. I struggled, digging my heels into the snow.
“Candace!” I shouted. “I can help you. I…I can do things now. Untie these. Let me show you. Please!”
“Shut up, Elizabeth.” She grabbed me by the hair. “For once in your life. Shut. Up.”
She banged my head against the doorframe of the car, and pain burst through my temple. I blinked as trails of blood fell into my eyes, and the world tilted as my knees crumbled. Clouded and disoriented, they stuffed me onto the floor of the backseat of a car. One of the Fir Bolg minions planted his heavy boot on my stomach in warning, and I let out an involuntary grunt, my throat tight and scratchy from screaming.
“Where to?” one of the Fir Bolgs said.
“Somewhere remote.” Candace buckled her seatbelt with a sharp click. “Somewhere no one will hear her scream.”
An hour later, the car stopped.
“Get out.” Candace slid from the passenger seat and slammed the door.
The Fir Bolg pulled me off the floor and threw me to the ground. I stumbled and made to scramble away, but the barrel of a revolver filled my vision, paralyzing me.
“Get up,” Candace said.
My legs trembled violently, my feet sinking into the icy snow.
“Start walking, Elizabeth.” She gestured with her weapon.
I hesitated, my hands shaking, the frigid wind cutting through my jacket.
“Did you know who I was, Candace?” My voice wavered.
She cocked the revolver. “Walk.”
I turned and took a few weak steps forward. “Did you know what I was?”
“Shut up,” she growled behind me.
“What’s the point?” I called over my shoulder, my voice sounding high and hysterical. “You’re just going to kill me anyway.”
We walked a little more, our footsteps crunching in the snow.
“Yes, I knew what you were,” she said finally. “We watched you, waiting to see if your powers would manifest.”
“It was the book, Arranmore,” I said, trying to stall for time. “It broke the spell suppressing my abilities, hiding me from…”
My enemies.
I bit my lip. “…magic types.”
Branches swept across my jacket like clawing fingers, the trees growing closer and closer together as we trudged deeper into the woods. Veils of blowing snow swept off the hanging boughs. My feet felt like blocks of ice, and my fingers had turned blue, frostbite already starting to settle in.
“I hope you understand this is nothing personal. But orders are orders,” Candace said in a low voice as we approached a small clearing.
“What orders? Whose?”
“Turn around,” she barked at me.
I turned slowly, my whole body wracked with panic. The barrel of the gun appeared wide and gaping in my vision. The Fir Bolgs stood behind her, weapons ready.
“Why are you doing this?” My voice came out in a hoarse whisper, hot tears beading under my eyelids.
Candace raised her chin, lowering her weapon. “For centuries, Bodb Dearg and the Tuatha Dé Danann have oppressed my people, pushed us to the margins of Tír na nÓg, to the brink of extinction. With your government’s help, we will defeat the Tuatha Dé Danann and create a Free State separate from the mortal realm.”
My government?
“You mean T-Trinity?” My numb lips could barely form the words.
Candace laughed. “Trinity? Hardly.” The smile on her face widened. “The American government, Elizabeth. They’ve been funneling money and arms to our rebellion for years.”
My mouth gaped open, Candace’s words swirling in my mind. My own government funding a Faerie coup? It sounded preposterous, but the black-eyed, pointy-eared Fir Bolg at the other end of the gun stuck in my face certainly appeared convinced this was the case. I thought about my father and his “top secret” work near Washington D. C. Did he know about this?
I shook my head. “But why kill me?”
“You helped the King defend Teamhair against that upstart Bres. We can’t trust you, Elizabeth. You’re too powerful.”
“Too powerful?” My voice sounded shrill in my ears, and I swallowed the stinging bile rising in my throat.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” she said, but her black eyes didn’t contain a speck of remorse.
“Candace,” I said in a soft voice. “Don’t do this.”
“On your knees, Elizabeth.”
“No.”
“On your knees!”
A pack of crows took flight from a nearby branch, their flapping wings the only sound in the clearing.
I dropped to my knees, snow melting through my jeans, a strange calm washing over me. Closing my eyes again, I drew deep within myself and pulled my energy into the abyss. My power sought out the tiny sliver of white light, the frayed ends of the gemel. With all the power I had, I dove for it, grasping, my mind fracturing in two from the strain.
Almost there. Oh, Christ, come on!
A bullet cracked past my ear.
BAM!
I dropped face first into the snow. Ice crystals clung to my lips, and I covered my head as more bullets whizzed over my head.
I glanced up, snow clouding my sight. An arrow whistled through the air and slammed into the skull of one of the Fir Bolgs. He dropped to his knees and landed facedown in a snowbank. The other Fir Bolg raised his pistol at me. I braced myself for the hit, shrinking away against a tree. A bullet landed square in the middle of his forehead. The blood burst from his skin before the sound traveled, ringing in my ears.
Finn broke through the trees, his sword drawn. Cradling my head in his arms, he hovered over me, his eyes in a panic.
“Elizabeth!” His arms wrapped tight around me, and I buried my face in his chest, biting back a sob.
I clutched the lapels of his jacket, my heart pounding against my ribcage. “They set a trap! I thought you were dead! And Candace—”
I pointed toward her, but Candace’s body was already dissolving into ash. My shoulders shook and I blinked, shaking my head at the terrible sight.
“Shhh…” He smoothed my hair, his hands trembling. “It’s over now.”
A choked cry escaped my lips, my body shaking against him. He held me tighter, and I breathed that safe Finn smell as he cocooned me in his warmth.
“We can’t stay here. There could be more of them.” Seamus’s low voice echoed through the clearing.
I extricated myself from Finn’s arms. He extended a hand, letting me lean on him as he pulled me up from the snow. I brushed the crusting ice off my jeans, wiping away the tears already freezing against my cheeks.
Seamus retrieved his arrow, and it made a sickening wet sound as it cleared the Fir Bolg’s skull already fading into ashes. Regina followed him, her pistol held tight with both hands.
“How…how did you find me?” I said.
Finn stared at me, his hands grazing over the cut on my forehead. “We’ll talk about it later. Are you all right?”
I pulled away. “I’m fine, really.”
He reached out and held my forehead in his firm hand, his gaze boring into me. A warm rush of light flooded through my body from his healing magic, and the pain faded away.
The wind picked up and blew the Fir Bolgs’ ashes across the drifts.
“What a mess,” I whispered, watching their remains dance in the frigid air and disappear into a blank white sky.
“Do you know why they wanted to kill you?” Finn asked
I nodded. “It’s a long story. Máirtín, Taisha? Are they okay?”
“They’re tailing Phelan right now,” Finn said. “Everyone’s fine.”
“It was a trap.” I shook my head. “The warehouse…”
“We know,” Seamus said darkly. “That became pretty clear in about five minutes when we were inundated with bastes ready and hell-bent on attacking us.”
“But who tipped them off?”
“Who do you think?” Finn’s eyes darkened. “Who knew we were going to the púcas warehouse?”
My mouth gaped. “Orin! Why would he do that?”
As soon as I asked the question, I knew the answer. He wanted to protect Niamh from Finn and the rest of the Fianna, and I was a fool to think he would ever trust them.
“That bastard,” I hissed.
Finn nodded, narrowing his eyes and glancing around the clearing.
“At least we have the púcas on the run now.” Seamus wiped the blood off his arrow in the snow. “They won’t go far.”
“Hey, fellas?” Regina placed her pistol back into a shoulder holster. “Can we cut the chit-chat and get to the car? It’s freezing out here.”
Without waiting for a response, she stalked into the woods, and Seamus and Finn followed her.
I took one last look at the clearing, with the bodies of the Fir Bolgs now vanished into the air. Memories of Candace passed through my mind, and I recalled the sunny little intern who never missed anyone’s birthday, who never forgot to water the plants after Moiré died. Who else was watching me, keeping secrets? A light snow began to fall, and I jammed my hands into my pockets, suppressing a shiver.
“Are you coming?” Finn called over his shoulder.
I turned and followed him out of the woods.
Chapter Ten
On the ride back to Trinity, I filled Finn in on what happened to me with Phelan’s gang and the Fir Bolgs. Regina and Seamus listened quietly in the backseat.
“But that’s crazy, right?” I said, finishing my story. “I mean, how could the American government know about all this magic? About Tír na nÓg? I can’t wrap my head around it.”
A long silent pause filled the SUV, and the sound of the engine hummed loudly in my ears.
“It’s actually not that crazy.” Finn looked straight ahead but shifted slightly in the driver seat.
My mouth gaped. “Wait. You mean…it’s true?”
“Of course it’s true.” Seamus leaned forward. “The American government has known about Trinity since the influx of Irish in the wake of the Famine. Wherever the Irish go, the Faeries are not too far behind.”
The car fell silent for a moment as Seamus’s admission sank in.
“So…” I cleared my throat and turned to Finn. “Have you worked with the American government?”
He thought for a moment and shook his head. “I wouldn’t say ‘worked with.’ They know of Trinity and they more or less leave us alone. They learned a long time ago that we could police the Fae better than they could. If they need to make contact with us, it’s always through Amergin.”
“But supporting this Fir Bolg rebellion…” I stared down at my hands, tracing the wool pattern of my gloves. “That seems pretty aggressive.”
“Yes.” Finn stared hard at the road, deep in thought. “It does.”
The sound of snarling wolves and crashing furniture hit us as soon as we walked through the hallway leading from the garage and into Trinity house. Finn, Seamus, Regina, and I looked at each other all at once and then ran in the direction of the fray. We found Taisha and Máirtín dragging the púcas by ropes tied around their necks toward a holding cell. They snapped at their heels, and the rest of the Fianna raced to intervene.
One of the púcas twisted against the binds and barely missed Finn’s wrist before Máirtín tugged it back.
“Let go of the ropes!” I cried.
“Are you crazy?” Taisha shouted.
I gave her a pointed stare. “Let go of the ropes, and I’ll push them into the cell.”
Taisha glanced at Finn, her forehead beaded with sweat. He nodded at her and she dropped the ropes, Máirtín following suit.
Summoning my power into my fingers, I threw the púcas back into the cell and then slammed the door behind them with a bang. Máirtín rushed over and threw the locking mechanism against the steel cell.
“They changed to wolf form before we could tie them in gemel.” Taisha shook her head. “We’ll never get anything out of them now.”
She turned to Finn. “Ready the interrogation room. We’re going to have to get creative.”
My chest tightened at the mention of “interrogation room,” remembering the brutal beatdown Amergin had given me the first time I came to Trinity Galway. I opened my mouth to protest, but Taisha grabbed my wrist and dragged me forward.
“You come with me, Princess,” she said. “I need to debrief you.”
Finn took two steps toward me with a territorial growl. Taisha whirled around, her thin braids cutting a clear arc through the air. “You have a problem with that, initiate? Maybe I should throw you in that cell with the rest of the wolves.”
I wrenched my hand away and placed it on Finn’s chest. His muscles tensed beneath my fingers, but he remained still.
“It’s okay,” I said.
I turned and followed Taisha, Finn’s gaze boring into my back until we turned a corner.
She opened the door to her office and waved me inside. I scanned the room and gasped, my stomach bottoming out as I took in Amergin standing by the fireplace, large orange flames casting ghoulish shadows across his Romanesque features.
He turned to me, his face in profile. “Hello, Elizabeth.”
Power surged in my body, and I squared my shoulders. “Amergin.”
The bard stared back into the fire. “Taisha, you can leave us now.”
The commander nodded and flashed me a hard look before leaving the room, the door closing with a sharp click.
“We heard you went on a little adventure with some of your Faerie brethren.” Amergin folded his arms into his dark green robes and stared down his long nose at me. “We would appreciate any information you could provide us. A púca infestation in Chicago is a rare and serious conundrum.”
“An infestation?” I replied, quirking an eyebrow. “They’re not termites, Amergin.”
“You seem very quick to defend the creatures that tried to kill you.”
My mouth shut tight. He had a point.
“So.” Amergin walked over to me, his body uncomfortably close to mine. “Tell me what happened to you.”
Unflinching, I met his sapphire gaze. “I’m shocked at your sudden concern for my welfare.”
“You are the granddaughter of Fae royalty. It is in our best interest to keep warm relations with your kind.”
“Warm relations? Is that what you call it? Policing us, controlling our affairs?”
Amergin’s eyes burned into me. Then, as if noting some music from another room, his eyes flitted to just above my head before zeroing at some point on the ceiling. In a move so swift, he stretched out his hand and, with a wave of energy, sent me barreling back against the wall. The wind knocked out of me, choking my scream. My limbs filled with lead, and I struggled to lift them, blood roaring in my ears. Reaching inside my coat, he ripped the lining and his fingers locked onto the book of Yeats poems tightly nestled inside. I had forgotten about it during my kidnapping, but now panic surged through me, recalling the words written inside.
He released me, and I stumbled and fell against the door jamb, my limbs stinging as my circulation returned from whatever paralysis spell he’d placed on me.
I made a leap for the book. “Give it back!”
Amergin dodged me easily and flipped through it, his eyes lighting on the passage inscribed with Finn’s name. The bard tut-tutted. “A tracking spell. Oh, Finn. So unoriginal.”
Tracking spell?
I reached out to grab the book, but my hand hesitated in midair.
The bard noted the look of doubt in my eyes and let out a barking laugh.
“Oh, Elizabeth, you’re so naïve to our world. See, here it is.” Amergin pointed to Finn’s handwriting. “‘Love always, Finn.’”
The words sounded perverted on Amergin’s lips. Heat rose to my face, and confusion, rage, hurt, and fear all swirled together in a deepening spiral in my stomach.
“He inscribed a spell within the book so he could follow you.” Amergin snapped the book shut, his eyes narrowing on me. “You do realize something like this could be grounds for a breach of the purity laws.”
“I didn’t—”
“And that could mean death for the both of you.”
“It’s just a book!”
“A book he used to track your every movement. A book containing a profession of love.”
“It doesn’t— It doesn’t mean anything to me!” Tears stung my eyes and I blinked them back.
“Good.” Amergin smiled. “Then you won’t mind if I do this.”
With a flick of his wrist, he threw the book into the fire.
“No!” I screamed, falling to my knees. I reached my hands into the flames, but it was too late. The book exploded with a pop of sparks, the edges of Finn’s beautiful handwriting burning to pitch black and then disintegrating into ash.
The bard caught my arm and whirled me around. “Finn is weak, distracted. You know his mission. If you want to find your mother, you’ll keep your feelings out of this.”
“Get off of me!” Power bubbled up from my abdomen and shot out through my hands.
Amergin struggled against the force of my magic, his robes plastered against the wall, his feet dangling.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore,” I hissed.
I released him and he slid down the wall, a flash of fear flaming in his eyes for a moment. Not waiting for his response, I fled out the door in a dead run and raced down the hall to my room to grab my bag. I needed to leave. Now.
Children of the Veil (Aisling Chronicles) Page 9
