Echoes from the Veil

by Colleen Halverson

I glanced at Grainne. “Guard him. No one else knows about this. Are we understood?”

  Everyone uttered a firm agreement.

  Finn followed me out of Eamonn’s laboratory and into the larger commons, the expansive caverns having grown quiet after the raid. Trinity often made reference to the old gods: Bel, Danu, Morrígan. Danu had granted a wish from my mother once, but other than that, they seemed abstract and distant. Characters in a long-forgotten myth. My mind grasped at the puzzle shifting around in my mind. I didn’t have the whole story, but our lives and the fate of this world depended on me figuring it out. I mumbled something about taking a look at the spoils from the raid and collecting the Fir Bolgs’ confiscated weapons, but Finn called to me, placing a gentle hand on my arm.

  “Business can wait,” he said. “You need rest. Come.”

  “There’s so much to do before we leave tomorrow,” I replied, pulling against his firm hand.

  “The púcas will see to it,” he said, arching one eyebrow. “Delegate. That’s what good leaders do.”

  “Ah, more lectures.” I sighed.

  “No, that’s not—”

  I raised my hands. “I know. I’m sorry. I guess I am a little tired.”

  He flashed me a smile. “And hungry?”

  I chuckled, staring down at my stomach. “Starving.”

  He took hold of my hand. “Come, my lady.”

  The smoldering heat in his eyes melted all my resolve, and the weight of the day’s events crashed down on my shoulders as I leaned into him, letting him lead me back our chamber at the far end of the caverns. Not uttering a word, he began to take off my leather armor, unlatching the belt that locked my breastplate in place.

  “I can do it,” I murmured.

  He kissed my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

  “Let me,” he whispered. “It’s been a long day.”

  “I’m filthy,” I said.

  “I know.” He shifted the breastplate away and lifted the thick iron pauldrons from my shoulders.

  I lifted my arms and stretched up to the ceiling, luxuriating in the cool breeze hitting my sweaty T-shirt beneath. The thing was now in tatters, but I clung to it, trying to keep my head still in the human realm as much as I could. I twisted around and studied Finn. With his armor and cloak, he looked straight out of Lord of the Rings. A real warrior, but I supposed that’s what he had always been. I stared at my hands, now callused from my endless trainings with Grainne.

  All changed utterly.

  “A great and terrible beauty has been born,” I whispered beneath my breath.

  “Hmmm?” Finn moved the collar of my T-shirt and planted a soft kiss on the curve of my shoulder.

  “Nothing.” I turned around and began unbuckling his armor.

  He took my hands in his and shook his head. “Let me tend to you first.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  He planted his large hands on my hips and pulled me to him so close, nothing standing between us but the coarse material of our trousers. He hardened against my belly and I smiled, rolling into him until he let out a low growl in his throat. He stooped and undid my shin guards, and, pulling me down on the pile of furs that made our bed, Finn tugged at my boots, setting them to the side. His hands slipped up my legs, my thighs, and I threw my head back and closed my eyes as a ripple of electricity raced through my body. He lingered at the hem of my shirt and inched it up my waist. He planted a soft kiss on my belly button, and I ran my hands through his silky black hair, twirling it between my fingers.

  His blood is mine.

  I took a deep breath. Slipping my hand down Finn’s cheek, I tilted his chin to force him to look at me.

  “I don’t know where I went,” I said. “I don’t know if it was some sort of premonition or what. But…” A lump rose in my throat, recalling Finn’s body prostrate on the ground, his body covered in blood.

  He crawled up the length of my body, his vast arms caging me beneath him. “Tell me.”

  I scooted to sitting, resting my back against the wall of the cave, and recalled in detail the strange vision I had. The battle, his body, the raven. We picked at the humble dinner someone had left in our chambers, but as I told the story, my appetite waned and I threw a hunk of bread back in the basket, saving it for later.

  “And it said… His blood is mine,” I finished.

  Finn rose from the bed and paced the floor, his hands folded against the back of his head. “Are you sure?”

  “Do you think it has something to do with your oath?” I clutched a fur around my chin as a strange chill ran through me. “Do you think it was the Morrígan?”

  It had been a fake promise to her, he said. An empty vow he’d made to an empty goddess whom no one had seen or heard from for centuries. But now I wasn’t so sure.

  Finn paused, his broad form turned away from me. His massive shoulders slumped as he let out a long exhale. Minutes passed and I wanted to speak, but my throat felt like sandpaper, the words a great jumble in my mind. What do we do? The question drummed through my head as fast as my racing heartbeat. I wanted to crawl out of my skin, escape to the astral plane and transform to pure spirit. Maybe the Morrígan was watching us right now. Watching and waiting until she could steal Finn from me.

  “Is she coming for you?” My voice came out thin and shaking.

  Finn turned on his heel and he practically tackled me against the bed, showering me with hard kisses on my lips, my neck, my chest. I dug my fingernails into his back, willing him to stay pinned to me. I lifted my hips, taking in his strength, his heat. I would have defied a thousand goddesses to keep Finn there, his body a shield against the cold creeping into the cave as night fell.

  His arm slipped behind my neck as he shifted above me, nestling me in the hollow of his shoulder. “Let’s not think about it.”

  I let out a long exhale, burying my nose in his chest. “I know. I can’t help it.”

  “If the Morrígan comes for me, we shall deal with it then,” he said. “One battle at a time.”

  I nodded.

  He stretched and pulled me up from the bed. “You smell like Fir Bolgs.”

  “I do not!” I made to punch him in the arm, but his quick reflexes had me spinning. He pinned my hands and pulled me against him.

  “Fir Bolgs and horse,” he whispered in my ear. “Mmmm…so sexy…”

  I elbowed him in the gut, and he grunted.

  I marched away from him, my arms crossed against my naked chest. “And speaking of battles, don’t lecture in me in the middle of one again. I’m not your Padawan.”

  Finn’s mocking grin turned to a grimace. “A what?”

  “Star Wars?” I raised my eyebrows. “Jedi Apprentice?”

  He blinked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Just hand me the damn sponge so I can clean myself up.”

  Finn frowned and walked over to the small tub we kept handy for bathing. He lifted the sponge out from the bath and squeezed it, his knuckles flexing as all the water ringed from it. His eyes lowered to the ground, and he walked over to me, clasping my hand in his.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “For mansplaining, or whatever it is you call it.” He ran the sponge across my wrist, tiny rivulets of water and dirt falling down my arm. “You are not my Pad— Pa—”

  “Padawan.”

  “Right.” He ran the sponge across my shoulders, and a small moan escaped my lips as he applied slight pressure to my sore muscles. “I’m used to giving orders, not receiving them. And I…” He hesitated, his hand lingering on my waist.

  “What?” I said in a soft voice.

  “It’s hard for me to see you put yourself at risk. Like today with the wagon, and how you—”

  “Finn,” I said in a warning tone.

  “I know.�
�� He ran the sponge down my back, my body trembling at the seductive motion.

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.” He planted a kiss between my shoulder blades.

  I didn’t know if I would get used to it, either. The killing, the fighting. The first time I killed a Fir Bolg during a raid, I couldn’t eat for a week. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I still remembered the way my spear pierced his skin, how the blood had poured from the wound in his side. I’ve killed since then, but I would never stop thinking of that first one. Who was he? What was his name? Would someone mourn for him? But it had been either that Fir Bolg or me, and in this war, that was a fundamental truth I could not escape.

  I turned to face Finn. He stood half naked, the edges and planes of his incredible body as chiseled and fine as a marble statue. I reached out to brush my hand against the small hairs on his pecs, tracing a line down to his emerging erection. He was insatiable lately, as if fucking me silly could somehow win this war. It was a constant undercurrent of our lovemaking. He accepted me as leader, but I knew he struggled with the risk, our mortality always one breath away from a stray bullet. Finn had one setting—protection. It didn’t matter if it was the Fianna soldiers he once led or me, his lover. Even then, I knew the unspoken truth of his heart, how he secretly wanted me safe in a tower, alone and waiting for him. But the rebellion would never wait, nor would liberty from the Fir Bolgs’ extremism. No one else could lead us to a real and equitable peace. As heir to Tír na nÓg, I was it. He had to get on the Xena-Warrior-Princess party wagon or find another girlfriend.

  He reached for me, his eyes darkening. “I don’t know if I want to get used to it.”

  I lifted my gaze to meet his smoldering stare. “I don’t think I can get used to your righteous BO, but I’m trying to make it work.”

  “BO?”

  “Body odor?” I waved my hand beneath my nose. “I’ll have to pick up some deodorant next time I’m mortal side.”

  He cracked a wide smile and pulled me close to him. Before I could wrestle away, he lifted his armpit and put me in a headlock. “BO? That’s the smell of a fighter, princess!”

  I squealed, falling in a fit of laughter as I tried to wrench myself away. I loved his smell. Sweaty, leathery, strong, and pure man.

  “I can’t breathe!” I made pretend gagging noises. “Oh, god, get some soap, for the love of—”

  He wrapped his arm around my waist and, seemingly defying the law of physics, flipped me into his arms, cradling me like a child. He rubbed his thumb down the side of my cheek, lingering on my bottom lip.

  “I love you,” he said.

  I arched an eyebrow. “Even though I stink?”

  He nodded. “Especially because you stink. I love the smell of you. All of you. All of it.” He pressed his lips to mine, and I clutched his face with both hands, moaning as his tongue flicked against mine.

  He set me down and threw my grimy clothes at me. “Put those on.”

  I glanced down at the bloody rags and made a face. “Why?”

  “Wouldn’t want to scandalize the Fae with you running around in your birthday suit.” Finn ruffled through a stack of folded clothes, pulling out clean tunics and pants. “I feel like a swim. Care to join me? We can burn those after.”

  I cracked a smile, pulling my stained tunic over my head. “I can’t wait to get clean.”

  Finn pulled his dusty shirt back on and reached for me, drawing me back alongside his muscled body. “I fear you might only get dirty again.”

  I pressed my head against his chest, stifling a giggle. “Is swimming the new code for sex?”

  Finn growled, taking my hand and leading me from our small chamber. “Sex is the new code for sex.”

  I laughed, the sound echoing through the cavern, bouncing off the stalagmites lining the expansive ceiling. The cave was silent as a tomb, only the faint murmurs of the guards at the entrance breaking the stillness. They waved as we slinked past, returning to their conversation, the crackling fire they hovered over painting ghostly shadows on their rugged faces.

  The cool night breeze brushed against my skin, sweet and clean, and I breathed the crisp air as I glanced up at the Van Gogh dreamscape swirling across the dark sky. Bright purples, faded yellows, and brilliant blues danced in a symphony of color, star clusters pulsing with light. I gripped Finn’s hand tighter, and he followed my gaze, a soft smile sweeping across his hard face.

  “It makes you wonder,” he said.

  “What’s that?” The grass was cold and wet beneath my feet, soothing the blisters on the edges of my toes.

  “Do the Fae have their own constellations?” His neck strained as he glanced up, exposing his Adam’s apple. “Their own mythos of the sky?”

  We continued on into the forest, our footsteps loud in my ears, leaves rustling beneath our feet.

  “I don’t know.” I let go of Finn’s hand and walked ahead, turning to face him. “It’s strange to think how little we know of this world. And yet…”

  Finn brushed a lock of matted hair from my cheek and tugged it behind my ear. “I was about your age when I became a rebel. Secretly.”

  “Yeah?”

  He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me through the woods. “I suppose in Ireland you have no choice in the matter. You’re born on one side or the other. But what did I really know of it? Rebellions. They are both so immediate and so far.”

  “What do you mean?” I leaned into him, our footsteps in rhythm. He rarely spoke of his time before the Fianna.

  “We knew what the lads were up to in Dublin, and maybe we felt that, too. The tree of liberty and all that. But when it comes to fighting. Well…” His voice grew soft, and I strained to hear against the sound of the will-o’-the-wisps in the trees. “In the end, all that matters is what you see in front of you.”

  We walked on, the whisper of the shaking branches above like the waves of the ocean. I nestled into his shoulder as the wind pierced through the thin linen tunic flapping around my thighs.

  “Still,” I said. “All bloodshed for a place that’s not even my home.”

  Finn stopped and turned me to face him. “I was in your father’s house. That bare, sterile place. I would not call that a home, Elizabeth. You would not fight for Tír na nÓg and these people if you did not belong here. I know that.”

  I nodded, my throat swelling as I ran my hands up and down Finn’s tight forearms. I didn’t know what I had done in a past life to deserve this beautiful man, but it didn’t matter. I would hold onto him with all I had, and I would destroy anyone who came between us.

  “You’re my home,” I whispered, throwing my arms around his neck.

  “Maybe it’s not this world you’re fighting for, then,” he said. “Maybe it’s for a better one.”

  I nodded, thinking of the ancient laws we had broken to be together. It was forbidden for the races to mix, but here we were, Fianna and Fae, standing in the woods in Tír na nÓg, hopelessly in love, heart eyes, dopey grins, and all.

  “A better world for us.” I stood on tiptoe, kissing him behind his ear.

  “Yes…” he uttered in the hollow of my neck.

  His body tensed, and before I could blink, he pushed me behind him. He reached into his pocket, and a knife appeared in his hand.

  “Show yourself!” he demanded.

  The leaves rustled, and my heart thundered against my rib cage. I grabbed for the spear I had left behind in the caves. I crouched low, recalling all the moves Grainne had taught me in case I had to fight.

  Parry, parry, check. Parry, block, arm bar. Thrust, punch, jab, cross, kick.

  A slight figure emerged from the darkness, a pair of bright eyes flashing in the shadows, leaves and branches sticking each and every which way from her head. She raised her hands, and realizing she was flashing us a considerable part of her anatomy, she pu
lled down her leather tunic, her face flushed.

  “Una!” I said, as my dear, shy friend emerged from the bracken. “What are you—”

  Aodhan, the Fae general, emerged behind her, his hands raised. “I was just debriefing Una on the recent Fir Bolgs attacks south of the perimeter.”

  “Debriefing?” Finn’s face was a blank mask of stone, but his eyes crinkled with a mischievous spark.

  “Yes, sir.” Aodhan raised his chin, straightening his belt and smoothing his shirt.

  I gave Una a meaningful stare, but she studied her shoes, her hands holding onto the hem of her shirt for dear life.

  “Well, carry on, then,” I said, waving my hand, “…with your ‘debriefing.’”

  Una grimaced and bowed her head low before retreating back into the bushes, Aodhan following after.

  Finn walked in silence until we knew we were out of earshot. Then we turned to each other and burst into gleeful laughter.

  I grabbed his shoulder. “Did you know—?”

  “Did Una tell you—?”

  “No—”

  “What a wonderful—”

  I threw my hands in the air. “Couple! I know!”

  We reached the edge of the springs, and I dipped my toe into the warm water. The mouth of the spring lay high on the cliffs above, a sacred space for the púcas. This particular pool was flanked by a high ridge of stones, far off from the source. Phelan had pointed it out to us as a good place for a soak, and Finn and I came here often when the camp had fallen asleep.

  “I’m happy for them.” I sat down at the edge, staring into the luminescent pool. “Especially for Una. The things she’s endured…” A shiver ran down my arms, and my skin prickled despite the heat radiating from the water. Una and I had become close after enduring imprisonment by a Fae warlord. As the warlord’s prisoner, I learned my true powers, trained in the ability to transport armies, to create and destroy portals, all while enduring vicious torture. At the time, I thought I would go mad, kill myself—anything to escape—but Una’s friendship, kindness, and empathy saved me from a darker fate. She was human, but years amongst the Fae had turned her a bit magical. At least she was magical to me. Her quiet strength and unfailing loyalty had made her presence essential in the turbulence of the rebellion. We had survived something truly horrible together, and I couldn’t do this without her.