I ran around the wagon, my energy pouring over him to transport us out of Tír na nÓg.
Captain Eoghan appeared in front of me, and with a loud snarl, he grabbed me, placing a chain-mailed arm around my neck.
“Finn!” I screamed.
My assailant cut off my air and my throat contracted beneath the cold metal on his arm. Finn’s eyes darted to mine in a panic. The moment of hesitation cost him, and he lost his balance. A soldier pierced his side, the sword sliding into his back. Blood bloomed on his white shirt, and he collapsed with a groan of pain.
Black dots peppered my sight, my fingers clawing at my attacker. Another soldier raised his sword and whirled, the steel heading straight for Finn’s exposed neck. I channeled all my energy again and threw it around him. We flew through the Veil separating the mortal world to Tír na nÓg and landed at the only place I could think of in the chaos of the moment—my Dad’s house.
Chapter Thirteen
My feet landed on the icy stoop, Finn’s heavy shoulder leaning against me. He let out a sharp cry, clutching his side, blood pulsing between his fingers.
Panic gripped my chest, and my whole body shook as I tried the handle, banging on the door when it refused to give.
“Dad!” I screamed, propping Finn up with one hand while I continued knocking.
Finn looked down at me with glassy eyes. “Elizabeth, I…”
His eyes rolled back in his head, his face turning a terrible shade of grey.
“Oh God,” I cried, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Finn, no. No!”
I raised my knuckles to pound them against the door again, but it swung open and Dad’s large frame filled the threshold, his dark eyes blinking hard as he took in the sight of us.
“Lizzie?”
“Dad!” I wiped the snot and tears from my face, staggering beneath Finn’s weight.
“What are you doing here?” He shook his head, raising his palms.
“He needs help. I—”
“What—?”
“Help me!”
He flew into action, taking Finn from my arms and pulling him inside. The familiar smell of shoe polish and burnt toast hit me as I stumbled into the hall, slamming the door behind me. I raced over to them, hiccupping and sobbing. With a grunt, Dad set him on the table and tore away Finn’s shirt to study the wound.
“He’s hurt. I don’t know what to do!” My hands shook violently, a sickening wave of terror clutching at my insides.
“Go to the linen cabinet and get towels, sheets, whatever you can find,” Dad ordered in a clipped voice.
I darted to the closet at the end of the hall and filled my arms with anything soft. I returned to find my Dad crouched over Finn, peering closely at the deep gash in his side.
“We need to staunch the bleeding,” Dad said. “Lizzie, call 911. Now.”
I turned to go, but Finn’s eyes flickered open. I darted back to his side, grabbing his hand.
“It’s okay.” I squeezed his hand. “We’re going to get help.”
“No point,” Finn gasped. “No point. Hospital.”
I shook my hand, trying to extricate myself from Finn’s iron grip. He gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his upper lip.
“Amergin will know. Don’t call 911.” He winced in pain and gritted his teeth before he took a rattling breath and settled back on the table.
I pressed a shaking hand against his neck. His skin felt clammy, all the blood drained from his face. A faint pulse beat sporadically beneath my fingertips, and I let out a strangled cry, guilt and fear twisting my insides until I could barely breathe.
“Lizzie!” Dad snapped. “You need to collect yourself.”
The sternness of Dad’s voice whipped me back to reality, and I shrank against the wall, swallowing my tears. Dad would fix this. He could fix anything.
“I can stop the bleeding,” he said, “but he will need medical attention. Go boil some water and grab some whiskey from the cabinet.”
I followed his orders, my whole body numb as I waited for the water to bubble up on the stove. I took a slug of whiskey, but the hard liquor did nothing to quell the anxiety tearing through me. Returning to the kitchen, I hovered at the head of the table, holding Finn’s hand, feeling helpless as Dad cleaned the wound and dressed it.
At one point, he went into the back bedroom and returned with a small box. It contained a syringe and a small vial.
“I can give him something for the pain,” he said, “but this man needs a doctor.”
“It’s not that simple,” I said in a choked voice, wiping hot tears from my eyes.
He shot a clear liquid into Finn’s arm. “I don’t know what kind of business you’ve got yourself mixed up in, but I can’t have it here in my house, you understand? We need to get him to a hospital.”
“Dad…” My lip quivered, my throat tight.
“You can call 911, or you can figure out how to get this man out of here. But I will tell you that the wound is bad. He needs a doctor, Lizzie. A real doctor.”
My hands shook, and I gripped Finn tighter, as if he could save me from drowning. “Dad, we can’t go to a hospital. We…there are people after us, I—”
“Is it drugs? Is this gang-related? Is it worth a man’s life, Lizzie?” Dad towered over me, anger radiating off him.
“No, I—”
“I’m calling 911.” He marched over to the phone.
“No!” I screamed.
He became very still and stared at me, his eyes boring through my skull. You could probably count the number of people who have screamed “no” to Colonel James Tanner on one hand. I certainly never had.
“Dad, we can’t go to a hospital. I don’t even know…” I breathed deeply. “I don’t think the doctors can heal him.”
“Why not, Lizzie?” His voice grew deathly quiet.
“Because he’s…” I took a deep breath and lifted my head to meet his gaze. “Because he’s Fianna.”
He replaced the phone in its cradle. “What did you say?”
I swallowed the lump of fear in my throat. “He’s Fianna. The sword that stabbed him was a Fae sword.”
A glint of understanding flashed in my father’s eyes, but he quickly concealed it.
“Are you on drugs?”
“Dad, don’t pretend.” I stifled a sob. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”
He stormed up to me and grabbed my arm, prying me away from Finn with a vicious tug.
“Dad, please. Stop and listen to me!”
He pulled me down the hall and threw me into the bathroom. I stumbled against the sink, rubbing my bruised arm.
“Dad, just listen!”
He reached down and turned on the shower, and steam slowly filled the small tiled room. He inched close to me, his eyes wide and piercing. “Don’t say those words again, do you understand? Now, tell me what’s going on—without those words.”
Panic burned in my father’s eyes. The capable, military man with the steely glint in his eye, his hair shaved to within an inch of its life, looked almost harried. A dagger of fear cut through my body. If Dad was worried, that meant Finn had zero chances.
“Dad…” I whispered, my lower lip trembling. “What am I going to do?”
He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, forcing me to meet his stare. “Do you know someone who can heal him? Someone special?”
“I—”
Máirtín.
“Yes!” I blurted out, nearly jumping out of my skin. “He’s in Chicago. I’ll have to use my…” I shook my head. “I mean, I can go find him.”
Dad nodded. It felt strange to have him understand this world, and I wondered what else he knew, what else he had kept from me all these years, but there was no time to parse it out. I had to find Máirtín. He was the only person who could help Finn now.
“Can you get there, Lizzie?” He gave me a pointed stare. “Can you travel there?”
“Yes.”
Dad sighed and leaned his forehead again
st the wall.
“I prayed it wouldn’t happen,” he said. “I prayed it wouldn’t touch you.”
I clenched my fists. “Why couldn’t you tell me the truth? Why couldn’t you tell me what I was?”
“Because I wanted to prevent this from happening,” Dad said, gesturing out to the dining room where Finn lay sprawled out on the table. “I wanted to give you the chance at a normal life.”
“I never had a chance at a normal life.” I ran my hand through my sweaty hair. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you—?”
“You really want to do this now?” He paused and rubbed the space between his eyes with his fingertips. “You don’t have much time. Maybe twenty-four hours before the wound turns septic.”
“I can reach him, the person I mean. I’ll be back in no time.” I glanced toward the dining room. “Will you look after him for me? Please?”
He frowned, crossing his arms across his broad chest. “Twenty-four hours, Lizzie.”
“Okay.”
I jogged past my father, down the hall, and back to Finn’s side, taking in his pale face and shallow breathing. I planted a soft kiss on his dry, parted lips.
“Hang on, Finn.”
The lack of sleep and traveling had nearly depleted my powers, but I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay strong. Channeling all my energy, I closed my eyes and set my destination to the last place I ever wanted to return to, deep in the headquarters of Trinity Chicago.
Chapter Fourteen
Dead leaves crunched beneath my feet, and the smell of spilled potting soil and decay hit me before I had the chance to open my eyes. I couldn’t just materialize in front of Máirtín, with Amergin and Taisha prowling about, so I landed in a quiet place in Trinity—the atrium. I scanned the brightly lit room and my heart sank. The once luscious plants straggled across the tile floor, brown and shriveled, and bare branches scraped the ceiling as if trying to escape their own dried out-roots. For a moment, I recalled Carolan the bard, the way he had mistaken me for my mother. If only I had pressed him for more information, but his death had wiped clean any insight into her past along with the lilting beauty of his harp. Focusing my attention on finding Máirtín, I tiptoed through the debris and creeped around the corner, scanning the hallway.
My heart pounded, and I darted down a long corridor, seeking the entertainment room on the lower levels. I had traveled into Trinity feeling so confident I could find Máirtín, but now faced with its endless passages and doors, my heart sank with the realization that it could take hours to locate the monk.
I didn’t have hours.
“You will need to check out this gray man sighting, Regina, since Máirtín hasn’t returned yet.” Taisha’s low voice rang out through the halls, and I startled back, seeking out a place to escape.
“Bring Seamus with you.” Her boots clicked across the floor, closer to me now.
I let out a gasp and opened the first door I saw, crouching behind it.
“It’s Seamus’s day off,” I heard Regina say. “I’m sure Máirtín just got distracted by something.”
“Seamus doesn’t deserve to sleep in after what happened with the púca,” Taisha said bitterly. “How could he let Finn and that Fae get past him?”
A hand covered my mouth and another gripped tight on my arm. I flinched, trying to wrench myself away.
“Get behind the door,” Seamus growled in my ear.
Of course. Of all the doors I could have opened, I had to walk into Seamus’s room.
I shrank against the wall. Seamus paced for a moment, his only article of clothing a pair of cartoon penguin boxers. His lean, compact body tensed, and his eyes fluttered up to the ceiling before uttering an Irish oath. He peeled the boxers off and stood naked in the middle of the room.
“What the hell?” I hissed.
Seamus flashed me a deadly look just as the door burst open, and I flattened myself against the wall.
“Get up, O’Brien.” Taisha barged inside. “You and Regina are going on a Recon mission to—Oh!” she exclaimed, backing out of the room.
“I would appreciate it if you knocked first, Commander.” Seamus placed his hands on his hips, his bits and pieces dangling freely between his legs.
“Regina will fill you in on the details,” Taisha stammered, and she cleared her throat before scrambling back out into the hall.
Regina stalked into the room and slammed the door. “Jaysus, put some clothes on Seamus. You’re an awful gobshite altogether, you know that?”
I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Regina’s head whipped in the direction of the sound, pegging me with her dark eyes. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I stepped forward, lifting my hands up defensively. “It’s Finn. He’s in trouble.”
“Of course he is.” Seamus frowned, pulling on a pair of pants. “He’s been in trouble since the minute he met you.”
“No! I mean, I know, but he’s hurt.” Tears pushed against my eyelids, and I blinked them back.
“Finn’s hurt?” Seamus’s voice softened.
“It’s bad.” My throat constricted. “He needs Máirtín.”
“Máirtín isn’t here.” Regina’s brow knitted together.
A cold sweat broke through my skin and a horrible trembling started in my legs.
“Not here?” I managed to say.
“He didn’t come home last night after patrol,” Regina said. “It’s not unusual if he got involved in something, but…” She shrugged, but a cloud of worry shrouded her coal-ringed eyes.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“Pilsen,” Regina said. “There was a gray man sighting by one of our informants.”
“Oh God.” I braced myself against the wall, trying to catch my breath.
“We can be there in twenty minutes.” Seamus shrugged into his jacket and palmed the door handle.
“No!”
Regina flinched, her hand moving instinctively to her pistol. I took a deep inhale. “I mean, I can seek Máirtín out. His spirit. I mean, his orb.”
Regina and Seamus gave me matching blank stares.
“I mean I can find him.”
They shared a confused glance and Regina shrugged.
“I’m an aisling, guys! I can find him on the astral plane. It’s not that hard if you know who you’re looking for.”
Seamus eyed me skeptically. “The astral plane?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Seamus!” I cried. “Do you want to save Finn or not?”
He clicked his tongue against his teeth and threw his hands in the air in surrender.
“Okay. Just…stay still for a moment.” I closed my eyes and sank into the shadows.
“Wait!”
A hand clamped down on my arm. My eyes snapped open, and I growled at Seamus through gritted teeth.
“Máirtín could be in trouble,” Seamus said. “Let’s scope it out first.”
Regina looked down at the floor, her hand drifting over her pistol. “I’m sure Máirtín’s just…”
Seamus nodded. “Right. I’m sure it’s fine. We’ll check it out, just in case.”
“Okay, you guys ready?”
They nodded, and I closed my eyes. My limbs ached from all the traveling, and I wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep for days. But the sickening acid of adrenaline churned my insides, and I found the last of my energy deep down in whatever magical wellspring it dwelled. I threw my power around them and sent us soaring across Chicago, seeking out Máirtín’s energy.
After a few tense minutes, I felt a faint flicker of the monk’s spirit and set my sights upon it, making sure to keep a fine distance. When I opened my eyes, I found myself just outside an abandoned church, boarded up windows slashed with graffiti. Fast food wrappers, shopping carts, and scraps of an old chain link fence emerged from drifts of fresh snow. An unsettling quiet blanketed the surrounding streets, the only sound the click clack of the Metra a block away.
Gargoyles and cru
mbling Roman arches decorated the church, and I shivered in its towering shadow. No doubt, if I were going to look for little gray monsters, this would definitely be the place I would start.
I closed my eyes and sought out Máirtín’s energy in the darkness. His faint glow pulsed in a corner of the church, but it felt weak and faltering. My powers wouldn’t stretch that far to take hold of him, but I could sense his orb somewhere in the shadows.
“He’s in there,” I said, opening my eyes. “But something is wrong.”
“What do you mean ‘something is wrong’?” Regina said through gritted teeth.
I backed away from her. “Look, I don’t always know how this works, okay. I can sense his energy, but it’s not…bright. He might be hurt or something.”
“Jaysus.” Regina growled deep in her throat, and her pistol flashed in her hand.
Seamus’s bow manifested into being with a silvery burst of light. They shared a wordless glance, and Seamus backed against the wall, notching an arrow as Regina kicked in the loose board hanging over the door. It dropped to the ground with a loud boom and a cloud of dust.
We hurried inside, the darkness enveloping us. Tiny beams of light crisscrossed the cathedral ceiling, and as my eyes adjusted, the faces of nameless saints came into view. Fingers that once pointed to heaven now lay shattered to a fine powder on the floor, the statue’s blank eyes staring into nothing. Overturned pews and broken candelabras scattered across the cracked marble floor, and faded blue paint peeled off plaster walls peppered with mold. A flurry of pigeons circled the rafters, and something scuttled across the floor high above in the gallery.
“What was that?” I whispered.
Seamus and Regina both crouched, their bodies alert as they scanned the walls. A dark shadow ran across the corner of my eye, and I retreated closer to them, the three of us standing with our backs to each other. Dark figures materialized out of the shadows, floating toward us out of the corners of the church.
Children of the Veil (Aisling Chronicles) Page 14
