Finn stood and shrugged off his jacket, then placed it over my shoulders. “It’s a long story.”
He threw a protective arm around me, and I leaned against him, exhausted. I let out an involuntary sigh, staring up at the wild stars of Tír na nÓg peeping out in all their strange colors of swirling green, violet, and blue.
“Let’s get you safe inside,” he said in a choked voice. “The queen is waiting for us.”
As soon as Finn closed the door to our room, he pulled me against him.
“I was so afraid I lost you,” he breathed.
We stood like that for a long time, clutching each other so tight, as if someone might come along and wrench us apart again. His muscles rippled beneath my touch, his hair grazing my cheek. I pressed kisses against his collarbone, soft, urgent sounds escaping my throat.
“What did they do to you in there?” Finn leaned away, cupping my cheek with his hand.
I glanced down at the floor and back at him. “They did tests.”
“Tests?” His eyes widened.
“Like, brain scans, I don’t know.” I turned away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Elizabeth…”
I lifted a hand to stop him. “No, I mean I really don’t want to talk about it. Not right now.”
“Fair enough.”
I sat on the bed, staring at my hands as silence stretched between us.
“What is going on with Malachy?” I finally asked.
Finn settled next to me, doing the careful, sensitive thing again, tiptoeing around me like he had stumbled on some uncaged animal. I fought the urge to tackle him and fuck him blind, the desire to touch him, run my hands over each inch of his body burning inside me. But for some reason I remained still, gazing out the window. After all those days, weeks, without him, his large presence beside me felt a little too real, a little too close after the routine of the facility.
“When I realized you had been taken,” Finn said, “I had no choice but to contact your father.”
I startled, stepping back. “My father? But he said—”
“Yes, I know.” Finn placed a hand on my shoulder. “But I think when it became real for him, he…well. You’re still his daughter. So he contacted Malachy Moray—”
“The dearg-dubh you swore to destroy—”
Finn raised his hand. “Yes, I’m getting to that. He contacted Malachy, who located you in a secret government facility. Apparently Malachy has made himself pretty indispensable to the United States government.” He shrugged. “I suppose that’s all over now…”
I snorted. “So Malachy’s been working for the government?”
He shrugged. “I guess. He’s some sort of informant, a go-between.”
“Jesus, what a snake.”
Finn made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. “In any case, Malachy said the only hope of escape would be a prisoner exchange. He needed to maintain his cover. So that’s when we contacted Orin, and he found a way for the Fir Bolgs to capture him.”
I blinked hard. “Orin did that for me?”
He nodded. “But then we discovered the news about the King.”
My mind raced to keep up with Finn. My father, Malachy, Orin, and Finn all working together to save me. It seemed so unbelievable. “So Bodb Dearg is dead? What happened to him?”
Finn frowned and shook his head. “It was the Fir Bolgs. An ambush. He was a fool to go into their territory with such a small force, and he paid a dear price for his arrogance. The King is dead and Tír na nÓg is in chaos.” He stood up and peered out the window, resting his hand on the sill. His shoulders stooped slightly, and he let out a long sigh.
“Can they be stopped?”
He shook his head. “As your father told us, the Fir Bolgs are being funded by the American government. They are a force to be reckoned with now.”
“But what’s their supply chain? How are they getting these weapons?”
Finn turned to face me, crossing his arms across his broad chest. “That is a good question.”
We stared at each other, my mind whirring, hundreds of possibilities racing through my head. I ran my hand through my tangled hair. God, I stank. I needed a shower. And food.
“And Malachy?” I said finally. “He seems like the last person you would go to for help.”
Finn darted across the room and grabbed my wrists, giving me a small shake. “Elizabeth, I would go to the devil himself to rescue you.”
I turned away, chuckling beneath my breath.
Funny story…
“What?” A look of concern twisted Finn’s face. “Why are you laughing?”
I squeezed his hand.
“Nothing. It’s just…” I smiled up at him. “I love you.”
His hand drifted up my arm and swept my hair away from my face. He bent to kiss me, his lips soft against mine.
After a pause, Finn broke off and began again. “It was difficult seeing Malachy again, but he swore to me he was not the one who set fire to the factory that night. He was only trying to deactivate the explosive, but he escaped before it went off.”
“I don’t understand.” I shook my head.
He crouched in front of me, his palms resting on my knees. “Malachy was not the person who placed the explosives in the factory, Elizabeth. It was Taisha. It was her all along. Charlotte was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Taisha?” I leaned toward Finn, trying to wrap my head around it.
“It makes sense, doesn’t it? Her rampage against the dearg-dubh, the senseless killing. The explosion that night destroyed his stronghold. We presumed Malachy died in the fire, but I never actually saw him by the explosives. I was knocked out by the blast. It was Taisha who told me…” Finn shook his head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Malachy was the only person who could get close to you, and that’s all that counts.”
He paused and then sat down on the bed next to me, gently placing his hand over mine. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Still not talking about it.”
He nodded but squeezed my hand tighter. “I know.”
Our eyes met, and my heart stopped for a moment, his rugged beauty and strength drawing me to him like a magnet.
Just kiss me, you idiot.
I leaned in, wanting nothing more than to taste his lips, drink him in. His gaze softened and he tilted his head, the stubble on his jaw scraping softly against my cheek.
A sudden knock on the door startled us, and we broke apart.
Finn let out a low sound in the back of his throat and stalked across the room. “I told the queen to give Elizabeth a minute—”
He paused when he saw the slight girl on the other side of the doorway, with a dress in one arm and a tray of food balanced on the other.
My heart leaped into my throat as one of my former handmaidens from Bres’s castle slipped into the room.
“Jane!” I cried.
A bright smile lit up the girl’s face when she saw me.
“Hello, ma’am!” She darted past Finn and set the tray and dress down.
I ran up to her and threw my arms around her small shoulders. “Oh my God, how are you?”
She beamed at me. “I’m grand, ma’am. Just grand. They treat us fair here.”
“How are the rest of the girls? Is Una here?” I loved seeing Jane, but I longed to see Una, to sit in her calming presence. After everything that happened, I needed to talk to her. Or not talk. Una was good about that.
“You wouldn’t believe it, ma’am, but Una is a soldier now.” Jane’s eyes widened.
“A soldier?” I stared at her, my mouth dropping to the floor. “You mean like she fights? Get out!”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jane’s face fell, and she curtsied and made for the door.
I grabbed her arm with a small laugh. “No, Jane. I mean. I can’t believe it.”
She smiled and nodded. “Aye, ma’am. They were looking for new recruits, and the Tuatha Dé Danann don’t care who
or what you are, so she signed up. Said she wanted to learn how to defend herself. And wouldn’t you know it, Deirdre and Molly signed up, too! You should have seen them all in armor, going off to fight the Fir Bolgs with the King.”
Ice water shot through my veins. “With the King? But the King was killed!”
She shook her head, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “They weren’t in his party, ma’am, thanks be to God. They’re safe. But it’s good that you’re here, ma’am. As long as you’re here, the Tuatha Dé Dannan have a real fighting chance against those dirty Fir Bolg feckers, pardon my language, and all.”
Finn and I exchanged a wary glance over Jane’s shoulder. I wasn’t sure when I was conscripted into the Tuatha Dé Danann’s army, but it seemed like news traveled fast around the castle.
Jane stared up at me with her guileless eyes. “Do you need anything else now, ma’am?”
“No, I think we’re good. Thanks, Jane,” I said. “Please tell the rest of the girls I said hello if you see them.”
She smiled. “We’re so thankful you’re back, ma’am.” She curtsied, flashing Finn a shy smile, and left the room.
I walked up to the chair where she had set down the dress, and I rubbed the silky fabric between my thumb and forefinger. “So, what? I’m like, the chosen one now?”
Finn hovered behind me and took a deep breath. “Alannah is weak, Elizabeth. She’s not fit to rule. Bodb Dearg has been King of this realm for thousands of years. For all intents and purposes, you might as well be the chosen one.”
I crumpled the dress in my hand and turned to face him. “When I was a nobody, when I had no powers, when I was just some stupid grad student who read the wrong book, I was little better than dirt on the bottom of Bodb Dearg’s shoe. Are you saying that I could be the ruler of Tír na nÓg?”
“In ancient Brehon law, there are no heirs. There are only those who can defend their lands and those who cannot.” Finn’s gaze shifted back to the window. “If the Tuatha Dé Danann won’t or can’t defend Teamhair, then, yes, their claim will be lost.”
Finn pushed the tray of food toward me. “Eat and get dressed. The Queen is waiting for us. We need to hurry.”
We ran into Orin as we approached the Queen’s chambers, and he ushered us inside then into a small library. There, with her forehead resting on laced fingers, sat the Queen before a long table, her dark hair falling in waves around her. The Druidess Birog leaned in next to her, whispering in her ear. In the candlelight, her deep brown skin appeared as smooth as a child’s, her strange violet eyes shimmering with emotion. Across from them sat Eamonn, who tapped nervously on the oak table. He shot us a relieved glance as soon as we came through the door.
Malachy Moray swept into the room right after us, ushered in by a nervous servant. His eyes scanned the room, and he leaned against a bookcase, with his face half shrouded by his long black hair. He had kept his black suit on, the bullet hole in his arm gaping open, and he studied his cuticles, looking generally bored with everything.
Orin gestured for all of us to sit, and the Queen looked bleary-eyed at us as we pulled out our chairs across the marble floor.
Her eyes narrowed at Malachy. “Orin, you dare bring this traitor into our mist?”
Orin bowed his head. “Your highness, this traitor has valuable information we could use against the Fir Bolgs.”
She studied Malachy, a sneer distorting her delicate features. “How can we trust him?”
Malachy let out an explosive, exasperated sound. “My Queen, I gambled my good name with your enemies when I decided to rescue your granddaughter, Princess Elizabeth. Now, I could not openly go back into my mortal life if I wanted to.” He bowed with a flourish. “I return to Tír na nÓg as your humble servant.”
Alannah arched her eyebrow. “The only person you have ever served is yourself.”
Malachy shrugged, his eyes flitting to the ceiling. “I have information. Would you like it or not?”
Birog raised her chin and surveyed the dearg-dubh beneath hooded eyes. “What’s the price?”
“Oh, Birog, you know me all too well.” Malachy smiled, flashing his elongated fangs, his beautifully chiseled face growing gruesome in the candlelight. “I want something that is long overdue for my people. I want the Tuatha Dé Danann to commit to renegotiating the terms of exile with Amergin.”
A pall of silence fell over the table. Nothing but the sound of the sputtering flame of the candles and the far-off cry of an owl broke through the heavy stillness. I had wanted to laugh when Malachy spoke, but I studied the lines of his face, the set of his jaw. Behind the tailored suit and his whimsical, fluttering fingers, his shoulder muscles tensed.
“That’s impossible,” Eamonn finally whispered. “The law is binding.”
Malachy ignored him, his eyes pegged on the queen. “I want to negotiate free and unmolested passage to the mortal world for the dearg-dubh and any other magical creature who desires to venture across the realms. The Fae should not have to answer to the Fianna. We should have the same freedoms to travel in their world as they do in ours.”
The Queen shook her head. “Amergin would never agree to it.”
I caught myself nodding, my chin propped up by my hand, wondering if the dearg-dubh had ever met the bard. Amergin would blast Malachy with Druid fire faster than he could say “negotiate.”
Malachy’s eyes narrowed on the Queen. “Then we should make him change his mind.”
Orin leaned forward. “Are you saying…?”
Malachy raised his hands, a bright smile transforming his face. “I’m not saying anything. With all due respect to our fallen King, he never cared for the plight of the Fae outside the Tuatha Dé Danann tribe. Bodb Dearg didn’t bother to negotiate the contract because he never saw any reason to. He never cared what we endured on the other side.”
Malachy leaned his fists on the edge of the table, his dark hair spilling out around him. “We are at the beginning of a new age. I have valuable information. Information that can change the tide of this war against the Fir Bolgs. If I stand with you, will you stand with me?”
Alannah brought her hand to her temple, propping her head up by her elbow. Her shoulders gave a small shudder, and for a moment I thought she might be crying. Then she looked up, and her face appeared smooth as glass.
“Tell me what you know, Malachy Moray,” she said.
My head swiveled back and forth between them, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The Queen had basically paved the way to an all out revolution against the might of Trinity. I blinked and leaned back in my chair, finding myself a little in awe of the dark-haired dearg-dubh.
Malachy took a deep breath, a relieved smile dancing on his lips. “Here is what you need to know. Unbeknownst to the British government, the Americans have been smuggling weapons to the Fir Bolgs.”
“We know that.” I crossed my arms against my chest.
Everyone’s head zipped in my direction, question marks scrawled across their faces.
I cleared my throat. “I mean, my father told me that.”
Malachy nodded. “What your father does not know is how the Fir Bolgs are smuggling these weapons into Tír na nÓg. They cannot travel to the mortal world on their own, and certainly no dearg-dubh would help them in their cause. The Fir Bolgs would not dream of using dark magic, not even for their revolution. Their ancient rites forbid such goings-on.”
“So how are they doing it?” I asked.
Malachy rose to his full height. “A woman named Anny Black. She’s a witch. A powerful one.”
My breath caught, and Finn and I exchanged a knowing glance. That’s what the question mark on top of Anny Black’s file meant.
I sat up on the edge of my seat. “Is she human? Does she have to use black magic to help the Fir Bolgs?”
Eamonn shook his head. “Not necessarily,” he said. “A mortal person need not draw upon demonic forces for power. There are other forms of energy one could learn to harness. Som
e more sinister than others, certainly…” He trailed off, tapping his fingers against his other arm before retreating back to the shadows.
Malachy nodded. “Anny Black used to work for an organization I belonged to a few decades back.” He grabbed the lapels of his suit. “The Children of Lir. You may have heard of us?”
Birog let out a small sound of disapproval and turned away from the dearg-dubh with a frown.
Malachy paced in front of the window. “Anny Black was a smuggler. I suppose today she would be called a ‘coyote.’ She smuggled Fae from Tír na nÓg over to the other side. As you could imagine, it was a lucrative business.”
“But how?” I pressed. “How did you she do it?”
Malachy shrugged. “Anny was secretive. All witches are. But she did hint at the fact that she found a way to harness dearg-dubh energy. Not a lot, you understand, but enough to create a small rift. We brought over dozens of Faeries. After the government raided the Children of Lir’s headquarters, Anny Black went underground. Someone in the American government finally tracked her down. That’s when the Americans made contact with the Fir Bolgs and talks about weapons began. I know her location, and I can take you there. We can shut down the operation.”
“Why should we trust you?” Finn spoke up. He had remained silent through the entire discussion, studying the dearg-dubh with his steely gaze. “How do we know this isn’t a trap?”
Malachy gave him a blank stare. “I suppose you don’t.”
Tension sparked between them, and I leaned forward, blocking Finn from the dearg-dubh’s hard gaze.
“So you can find Anny Black?” I interjected. My thoughts returned to the file my father had given me, Anny Black noted as the last person not detained, dead, or missing. If I could find her, I knew she would lead me to my mother.
Malachy nodded. “Yes, I can bring you to her.”
Finn shook his head, a deep furrow in his brow. He may have agreed to Malachy’s help in my rescue, but throwing ourselves under his protection while we seek out a witch was certainly a risk. My insides clenched with anxiety, but my mother’s face flashed in my mind, and I slapped my palm onto the table.
Children of the Veil (Aisling Chronicles) Page 23
