Phelan’s rugged face darkened. “In spite of their professions of love, Cas Corach slew the maidens, and the blood of their lifeless bodies formed a pool. When Airitech found his daughters, he wept endlessly, and the tears mixed with their blood to create this spring. They say whoever drinks from this spring will have the power of lycanthropy.”
Phelan dipped his hands into the pool again, this time cupping a bit of the water into his palm before letting it trickle through his fingers.
“That is the story of my tribe of púcas, born of blood, born of sorrow, outcasts of the Tuatha Dé Danann from the very beginning.”
Phelan paused, the light from the setting sun turning his hair to shimmering gold. “For thousands of years my people have hunted in these woods, undisturbed by King Bodb Dearg and the Tuatha Dé Danann. With the order of enclosure of this forest, my people face extinction or exile.”
“Enclosure?” Frowning, I probed deep into my memory of English agricultural history. “You mean the king is declaring these woods as his own private property?”
“Aye.” Phelan nodded. “The process began years ago. Movements toward enclosure are what prompted me to join The Children of Lir in London with Malachy Moray. We allowed anyone into the Children, anyone who felt persecuted by Bodb Dearg’s corruption. We fought for an end to our oppression and full rights to the mortal world.”
Phelan looked directly at Finn. “We did not want to exist under the yoke of the Fianna, cowering like criminals, always having to declare ourselves to you. The Tuatha Dé Danann lost the mortal world to that schemer Amergin, and we have had to suffer the consequences of that loss for centuries.”
“But what about Bres and the Fomorians? Why didn’t you join in his rebellion?” Saying Bres’s name felt like acid on my tongue, but I had to understand Phelan’s reasoning.
“What is it they say in the mortal world, ‘Meet the new boss, same as the old boss’? Nay, my father lived under Bres’s rule when he was king of Tír na nÓg. Bres was an even greater tyrant than Bodb Dearg, and he would have used us all as pawns in his war. The Children wanted the Fae to be free. Truly free. We wanted what we saw in the mortal world—democracy, a chance to have a voice in our government. These were the promises that led us to London with the dream of revolution.
“But then your mother came…” Phelan paused, his gaze boring through me as if he could see my mother in my eyes. “I knew she was trouble the minute I laid eyes on her. Malachy discovered her running from the Fianna in the underground, starving, wounded, screaming. He brought her to our hideout before they could catch her. Malachy thought he had won the lottery. Bloody fool.”
Phelan shook his head, his face contorting in a frown. “Niamh did have information. She knew things we didn’t know. And she had powers, the same powers you have, it seems. She was determined to take down Bodb Dearg. She wanted to destroy the contract with the Fianna and take down the aristocracy oppressing Tír na nÓg. All the Children rallied around her, her passion, her struggle. But it was all a lie.”
He squinted against the setting sun, and when he opened his eyes again, a glacial coldness had taken over his face. “What we in the Children did not know was that Niamh O’Neill fell in love with an American soldier. Your father. Lieutenant James Tanner.” Phelan spat out the name like poison. “He used her to get close to us, to infiltrate our ranks and destroy us.”
My mouth gaped open. “That—no. That can’t be. My father loved my mother. He, he wouldn’t do that.”
“But he did.” Phelan leaned forward, his upper lip raised in a sneer. “He played her and destroyed everything we fought for.”
My hands shook as I tried to register the púca’s words. How did I know he loved her? All he had left of her was a photograph stuffed in a drawer. My father the spy. It explained everything. Why he never talked about her.
Why he never loved me.
Phelan interrupted my thoughts, his voice raised. “All I know is your mother was not there the night we were raided. And the men who raided us—all of them had American accents. I managed to escape, but these men either killed or captured the rest of the Children. Any history of our order was erased, as if we never existed.” He swallowed hard and met my gaze. “Your mother sold us out.”
Anger and confusion at Phelan’s accusations burned through me. I made to stand up, but Finn placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, flashing me a warning look.
“What happened to Malachy Moray?” Finn asked.
My mind swam with a thousand scattered thoughts, but I could tell deep in his heart, Finn felt the old stir of vengeance for his wife Charlotte, vengeance for a woman I did not know. A white hot surge of jealousy sparked in me, and I shifted my shoulder away from him, turning my gaze to the setting sun.
“Malachy Moray was captured,” Phelan said. “If you want to know what happened to him, you will need to ask James Tanner.”
I put my head in my hands, trying to wrap my brain around my father’s involvement with the Children of Lir. If he knew what my mom was, then that meant he knew what I was. I had intended to seek out my father so he could help me find my mom, but maybe he worked for the same people who had her imprisoned. The thought overwhelmed me, and I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. No matter what Phelan said about her, I had to keep looking, find a way.
“Anyway,” he continued, “the time for rebellion is over. We found a rift into the city of Chicago, and slowly we’re moving our people through it. We will live as exiles in your world, hoping to scrounge up enough money to build a new life for ourselves somewhere in the North American west.” The púca turned to me, his eyes filled with pain. “This is why we sold you to the Fir Bolgs, so we could have enough money to start our lives in the New World. It was wrong, and I regret it.”
The sun had almost set beyond the hills, and the last of its orange rays hit his face. I had wanted to turn my back on the Faerie realm and its people, but Phelan’s story sparked the flame of rebellion within me, too. Perhaps it was the betrayal I felt by my father coupled with the indignities I had endured by Bodb Dearg, but I realized then in that moment I not only had to find my mother, but I had to finish the work she began long ago. As leader of the Fae, I could make a difference, not just for Phelan and the rest of the Fae but also for Finn. We could change Trinity laws. We could be safe.
I grabbed Phelan’s rough hand, my thumb resting on his swan tattoo. “I swear to you, if I am ever in a position to give your tribe back their lands, I will do so. And if fate grants me the right to rule Tír na nÓg, I will make sure everyone has a voice in the new government.”
His large hand wrapped tight around mine. “Be careful, aisling. To swear an oath before a sacred spring is a serious act.”
“I swear it.” The words tumbled from my lips, low and strong.
Finn made a sound in the back of his throat, but I ignored him.
Phelan stared deep into my eyes and nodded before releasing my hand.
A scream peeled through the cold evening air. All of us looked at each other in alarm.
“What was that?” I jumped to my feet.
Thundering hooves tore through the silence of the forest, a raucous shouting and clamor emerging below from the cave.
“Soldiers!” Phelan darted down the hill. “It’s a raid!”
Chapter Twelve
Finn grabbed my arm, his eyes wide. “We need to get out of here.”
“But the púcas!” I pointed in Phelan’s direction, but he had already shifted into wolf form. He leapt over the boulders and disappeared into the forest to the cave below.
“It is not our fight.” Finn shook his head. “We need to go. Now.”
I let out a deep exhale, torn between fulfilling my promise to Phelan and my own self-preservation. But Finn was right. The two of us could do some damage, but my powers were unpredictable, and I wasn’t sure I could take on Bodb Dearg’s army in the heat of the moment. I closed my eyes and sought out Finn’s orb of light, throwing m
y energy around him like a blanket.
“Oof!”
Someone had shoved me from behind and I slammed to the ground, the oxygen knocking out of my lungs. Before I could even move, my assailant flipped me over and tied gemel rope around my wrists.
“Get off of me, you fucker!” I screamed, slamming my fists against his armored chest.
Closing my eyes, I attempted to gather my aisling powers, but it was no use. My abilities surged against the force of the gemel rope holding me prisoner. From the corner of my eye, I saw more Tuatha Dé Danann soldiers surge through the trees.
The soldier dragged me to standing, his breath hot against my ear. Finn crouched, surrounded by soldiers closing in on him. A snarl contorted his features before he brought his sword down in a deadly arc. The clash of steel rang in my ears, and the soldiers mobbed him, their weapons gleaming, catching the light of the moon rising over the trees.
“Stop! Stop!” I cried as the Tuatha Dé Danann soldier dragged me away.
Finn rushed the soldiers, his sword whirling so fast it looked like a blur of silver in the fading light. A sword grazed his chest, tearing a deep rent in his shirt. Panic seized me, and I dug my heels into the ground.
“STOP IN THE NAME OF THE KING!” I screamed.
The soldiers hesitated, and the one holding me whirled me around, his eyes open wide.
“I’m Princess Elizabeth, you fucking morons!” I wrenched my wrists away, stomping my foot and gesturing wildly. “And that’s Finn O’Connell of the Fianna, famed warrior of the Battle of Teamhair.”
The soldiers backed away from Finn, whose eyes shone bright, his chest heaving.
I tugged at the gemel ropes, but they didn’t budge.
“You will let me go and order your men to stand down,” I hissed.
A soldier with an air of authority approached me and squinted, his eyes passing over me from head to toe. “Why should we believe you?”
I tilted my chin up, bearing my neck. “I bear the mark of the Fae. See for yourself.”
The soldier’s fingers brushed across my collar bone and drew out my necklace. He studied it with a frown. He shook his head and gave me one last glance before shouting over his shoulder. “Stand down!”
“Thank you.” I took a deep breath of relief. “Now please untie me.”
“You may be the princess of Tír na nÓg, or you may be the Queen of England for all we know.”
“I assure you, I am who I say,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Whoever you are,” the officer grumbled, pushing us along into the wood, “you can explain yourself to General O’Rea.”
I blew a lock of hair away from my face and gave the officer a dark stare. “I’m looking forward to it.”
The soldier in charge stalked over to Finn. “Your sword, sir.”
Finn whispered a spell beneath his breath and his weapon disappeared. He raised his hands in surrender, but he tilted his chin up and puffed out his chest in the universal language of “fuck you.”
“Tie him up!” the soldier cried.
Finn backed away, shaking his head.
“Just do it, Finn,” I called to him over my shoulder.
He glowered at me, but surrendered his wrists. Four of the Tuatha Dé Danann grabbed them and twisted a long strand of gemel around him.
The officer nudged me from behind. “Start marching.”
Frowning, I stumbled forward, tramping through the woods for an hour, the whole time surrounded by the Tuatha Dé Danann soldiers on horseback. The moonlight reflected off their gold-plated helmets, the tree of life medallion stamped just above their foreheads. They all had the same delicate features of their tribe, with their graceful bodies and lightly shimmering skin. Finn and I marched through the brush, jogging to keep up with them at times.
“Do you think Aodhan knows? About us?” I whispered to Finn.
“Aodhan does not care,” Finn replied under his breath. “He did not concern himself with Grainne and Eamonn.”
I let out a long breath and stared down at my ropes, thinking of our friends. Grainne would have swung in on a vine and slashed the gemel from my wrists while Eamonn conjured a dragon or something to chase off these Tuatha Dé Danann soldiers and make them scatter like mice.
“I miss them,” I said, staring up at the glittering stars through the branches. “I wonder what Grainne is doing right now.”
“Quiet, you two!” the officer shouted from his horse.
They dragged us to a large encampment deep in the forest. Despite the late hour, the camp bustled with activity, the sound of growling and incessant barking echoing through the small city of tents as the soldiers rounded up púcas into cages. Their gold eyes glittered as they watched Finn and me pass by.
I looked up at the officer. “What are you going to do with them? The púcas?”
He sneered. “The King will have them executed for treason, most likely.”
“All of them?” I leaned toward the soldier. “Even the young ones?”
The soldier nodded. “Especially the young ones. Pups grow up into wolves. And wolves bite back.”
Jesus.
I shook my head. We needed to get out of these bonds and try to talk sense into Aodhan before it was too late.
“In there.” They shoved us into a large canvas tent.
Inside, Aodhan stood over a long table with several hand-drawn maps strewn across it. Little figurines stood scattered in the patches marked in dark green watercolor. Aodhan looked up, the candlelight flashing in the long strands of his auburn hair. His vibrant green eyes went wide and then darkened to black as he strode across the tent, his finely chiseled face flushed with rage.
“Captain Eógan.” Aodhan began in a low voice. “Can you explain to me why the granddaughter of the King is bound like a common prisoner?”
“Sir, I—”
“And can you explain to me why Finn O’Connell of the Fianna, hero of the Battle of Teamhair, is equally in such an estate?”
Captain Eógan’s face reddened and his hand loosened on my bonds. “I didn’t…the man was…”
“Untie my guests and leave from my sight.” Aodhan commanded, looking back at his maps.
Captain Eógan made a strained sound in the back of his throat, and Aodhan flashed him a dark stare. The soldier withered in his presence and bowed at the General before untying our bonds.
I smoothed my palm over my chafed wrists and glared at the soldier. He narrowed his eyes at me before bowing once more and fleeing the tent.
“My sincerest apologies for any inconvenience you may have experienced, Your Highness.” Aodhan bowed to me and gestured to the table for us to sit. He rolled up a stack of maps and placed them to the side, looking up at Finn with a warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you both again.”
Aodhan poured some wine from a stoneware pitcher. “Please, do allow me to extend my hospitality.” The General motioned for us to help ourselves to the wine and a few slices of bread remaining on a wooden cutting board.
“Thank you,” I said, settling into a rickety wooden chair.
“I must say, I certainly wasn’t expecting to find the two of you in The Seven Woods.” Aodhan folded his hands on the table and peered at us through the candlelight.
I took a sip of wine and let the semisweet liquid pool in my mouth before swallowing. “Why are you rounding up these púcas? What harm have they done?”
Aodhan sighed, massaging his forehead, grim lines crossing his iridescent skin as he frowned. He took a long gulp of wine and then set his cup on the table. “These woods have been declared property of the King. The púcas are trespassers.”
“Trespassers?” I exclaimed. “But they’ve lived on this land for centuries.”
Aodhan raised a hand in defense. “I know, Princess,” he breathed. “I know.”
Finn spoke up, his eyes dancing over the rim of his cup. “I can see you are not sympathetic to the King, General.”
“It is not my place to question h
im,” Aodhan said, a sharp thread of sarcasm lacing his voice. “I am here to serve his highness in all things.”
I did an inward eye roll, but the look on my face must have revealed my frustrations, because Aodhan paled, his shoulders shaking with all the words he couldn’t say about his King.
He shook his head and sat up straighter, leaning toward us. “I must press, you understand. What brings the two of you here?”
I looked at Finn and arched an eyebrow at him, not exactly sure where to start.
Reading my mind, Finn cleared his throat. “Elizabeth and I are seeking her mother, and our journey brought us here.”
Finn conveniently left out the part where we busted Phelan and his crew out of Trinity jail. While Aodhan and the rest of the Tuatha Dé Danann may not be a big fan of the Fianna, I doubt he could overlook a prison break of púca public enemy number one.
“Phelan provided us some useful information,” Finn said. “He once knew Princess Niamh.”
“Really?” Aodhan’s eyes widened. “You mean he knew her in London?”
Finn nodded, and Aodhan leaned back thoughtfully.
“Did you…?” I played with the rim of my cup. “Did you know my mother, General?”
He smiled, the lines in his face softening. “Of course I did.”
I looked down into my wine, glancing at my own reflection. “What was she like?”
He paused and took a sip of wine. “She was beautiful. Like you. She was smart, brave. But she was an innocent, even after…” The General trailed off, frowning.
“After what?” I pressed.
“I was just a young officer the first time Niamh disappeared, when Lorcan lured her into captivity on the other side of the Veil. She and Orin used to travel to the mortal world together in secret. I was friends with Orin then, or at least the closest thing to a friend Orin might have. I warned him of the dangers, but he refused to listen.”
Aodhan shook his head, his delicate features distorted in a dark frown. He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “Niamh grew more intrepid, and the one night she traveled without Orin was the night that Lorcan hunted her down and imprisoned her.”
Children of the Veil (Aisling Chronicles) Page 12
