Among the Unseen (6 page)

“Mum,” Cedar whispered, accepting the glass. She took a sip and puckered. It was sour, nothing like the sickly sweet concoction her mother had always made for her as a child.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Maeve asked, looking out over the ocean.

Cedar followed her gaze. Instead of seagulls, a dragon was circling overhead, small bursts of flame occasionally erupting from its mouth. She looked down and watched as the long curved neck of a sea serpent emerged from the ocean. It stretched out, looked toward shore, and then disappeared back under the waves.

“Where are we?” Cedar asked, but Maeve didn’t answer. She just kept gazing out over the ocean, rocking back and forth in the wooden chair.

“Your father used to sit in that chair, you know,” Maeve said. “We spent hours out here. Just talking. He used to say it was one of his favorite places on Ériu.”

“Are you…,” Cedar began, not sure how to phrase it. “Where
are
you? Are you…with him now?”

“I’ve gone on,” Maeve answered simply. “It’s nothing
you
will ever need to worry about, if you keep yourself out of trouble, that is. Tell me, dear, how are you doing?”

“Fine,” Cedar said automatically, but then she felt words gushing from her mouth like a faucet that had been suddenly unblocked. “No, not fine. Not really. I’m worried about Eden; all she wants is to be Tuatha Dé Danann, but
I’m
not the one who can help her with that, since I’m just figuring it out for myself. I try to reach out to her, but it feels like she’s pulling away from me. I keep thinking maybe she blames me for everything that has happened—for getting kidnapped, for you dying, and for everything that has happened since. But she doesn’t like to talk about it; when I bring it up, she just pretends everything is okay. Then there’s this druid woman who worked with Liam, and she says she wasn’t involved, but she knows
something
—the goblet proved that. And now there’s this problem with the leprechauns and selkies and who knows what else here on Earth, but Felix says he doesn’t know how to help them. If I don’t do something about it, though, I think they’re all going to die. And I don’t know how to handle any of it. And Finn…I’m so glad he’s back, but I can’t help but worry that I’m going to lose him again. It feels like it’s too good to be true.”

Maeve rubbed Cedar’s back, just like she used to do when Cedar was a child. “There, there,” she whispered. “You have a lot on your plate, it’s true. But it’s of your own making, Cedar. No one forced you to move to Tír na nÓg. No one forced you to become queen. No one forced you to get involved with these people in the first place. I warned you against it. If you had just listened to me, you would be living a normal, peaceful life. We all would. But you’ve always had to do things your way. I can’t bail you out anymore. And if I give you advice, you’ll probably do just the opposite. So…I’m afraid you’re on your own.”

Cedar sat very still. What else had she been expecting? That her mother would sympathize? Maeve was right. She
was
on her own. She stood up and walked down to the water, not looking back. Her feet pounded across the grass and she broke into a run, down the hill until she had reached the edge of the water. For what seemed like a long time, Cedar just stared at the horizon. Nevan had told her the Irish had once believed you could get to Tír na nÓg by sailing west. But Cedar knew that there was nothing between where she stood and the coast of Galway. Nothing but water. And maybe a sea monster or two. She wondered what it would be like to return to the days when she knew nothing about the Tuatha Dé Danann, when her daughter was just a normal little girl, when she thought she understood her place in the world. But she couldn’t go back. Not anymore.

When she returned to the veranda, both chairs were empty. She didn’t know why, but she felt calmer. She had spoken the truth to her mother, and had received a typical Maeve response in return—and she was still here. She walked around the side of the house to her mother’s grave, under the reaching branches of the tree she had been named for. Both of her mothers were buried here, but today she had words for only one of them.

“You’re wrong. You’ve always been wrong about me. But I believed you—I
still
believe you sometimes. I’m sorry you felt like your whole life was a disappointment. I’m sorry Brogan didn’t love you. I’m sorry I hurt you by choosing a different path than the one you wanted for me. But I’m not sorry I chose it. I’m done living under that shadow. Done with feeling like I won’t ever be good enough. Maybe you’re right—maybe I will fail. Maybe I
won’t
be able to help everyone who needs it. But I’m sure as hell going to try.”

CHAPTER 6

E
den looked over her shoulder to make sure no one had seen her, and then closed the sidh behind her. The evening hung around her like a warm, heavy blanket. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air smelled like freedom. The sky was deepening into indigo, and stars were beginning to awaken for the night. Not for the first time, Eden wondered if they were the same stars she’d seen on Earth the few times she’d been allowed to stay up late enough to see them.

She didn’t need anyone’s permission now. She sat down on the edge of a calm pool to watch the reflection of the moon rising into the night sky. Her parents thought she was sleeping, and she knew she’d get in major trouble if they caught her. She felt a twinge of guilt as she settled into the tall grass. But she liked it here…and the other places she had explored. Every single day she was surrounded by chaperones—either her dad or Riona or Molly or Nevan or her mum, when she had time. She liked being with them, but they all treated her like a child. And she didn’t feel like a child anymore.

She picked a twig up off the ground and waved it in the air like a magic wand. Opening and closing the sidhe was cool, but she wished she could transform into an animal like her dad or move things with her mind like Riona’s friend, Seisyll. “Abracadabra,” she whispered, pointing the twig at the water. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. “Hmph.” She sat and stared into the depths. She didn’t know why
she
always got in trouble for using her power, when no one else did. It was fine for her dad to turn into butterflies and for her mum to light birthday candles with her fingertips and for everyone else to use their powers whenever they wished, but she always had to ask first; she always had to make sure a grown-up was with her.

Well, I do have a grown-up with me
, she thought.
Inside
. She could feel her there, the older Eden who had saved her mum from Nuala in the dream. Every once in a while, she would have a thought that wasn’t quite her own or feel some strange emotion she had never experienced before. She wasn’t sure, but she figured these things came from the older Eden. Did everyone have an older version of themselves inside? None of her friends back in Halifax had ever said anything about it. She wondered if it had something to do with being Tuatha Dé Danann…or if it was just her.

She lay back in the grass and crossed her hands behind her head.
I’d better not fall asleep here, or I’ll really catch it
, she thought. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the feeling inside her—the part that was her, but not quite.
Are you there?
she asked. She waited, trying to remember what had happened the other times she’d made contact.

Hey, Eden.

Eden’s eyes flew open, and then she slammed them shut again. “Are you still there? Don’t go away!” she said out loud. She could feel it stronger than ever, this second presence within her. It had never spoken directly to her before.

I’m here.

“What…who are you?”

You know who I am. You will be me one day.

“I wish it was right now.”

She heard the other voice laugh.
Patience is a virtue…or so they tell me. But I’m afraid neither of us has very much of it.

“Why can I talk to you?”

We’re special, you and I.

“How?”

I can’t tell you everything, now, can I?

“Why not?”

Was I really this inquisitive as a child?

“Mum says I ask more questions than there are answers.”

And does your mum know you are lounging by the side of a moonlit pond far past your bedtime? It’s a lovely spot, by the way.

“Thanks. She doesn’t know. Are you going to tell her?”

I have no way of doing that.

“Can I become you sooner?”

Everything must take its proper course
.

“What does that mean?”

It means, little one, that you have an amazing life right now. However…

“Yes?”

There is someone here in Tír na nÓg who might be able to help you, if you are interested. She could teach you how to control your power—and how to increase it. She can teach you how to focus. And that will help put you on your path to becoming me.

“Who is it?”

She’s a druid, just like Gran.

“Is she one of the druids who attacked us in Ireland?”

No. She’s very powerful, but she won’t hurt you. Her name is Helen. Find her.

Eden felt the presence recede, like a wave pulling away from the shore. She stood and brushed the grass off her pajamas, then walked back to the tree where she’d first opened the sidh and placed a hand on its trunk. As soon as it started to glow she walked through it, quickly closing the sidh behind her. Her room was dark and mercifully empty—her parents had not discovered she was gone. She was tired, but her mind was whirring. She wanted to find this Helen woman right away, but she didn’t think she could stay awake any longer. Tomorrow, when everyone else was busy, she’d find her. Then she’d get some answers.

When Cedar woke, there was a bright light shining in her eyes.

“Sorry,” Felix said as Cedar squinted and shielded her face with her hands. One of the light globes that had been floating in the hallway was now suspended over the bed where she and Jane had been sleeping. Jane was awake beside her, but lying very still as Felix waved his hands up and down about six inches from her body. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and she was staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. Cedar clutched Jane’s hand. She knew how horrible those first few days of heartache were. Felix stood up and took a step back.

“Well, it’s all gone,” he said. “I’ve double- and triple-checked. No more toxin. You’ll be back to normal as soon as…well, soon, I hope.” Jane managed a watery smile, and then rolled over into the fetal position.

“Can I talk to you, Cedar?” Felix asked. Cedar gave Jane a long hug and then climbed out of the bed, smoothing back her hair. Cedar was still wearing the blue dress from the previous day. Felix held open the door and they stepped into the hallway together.

“Is she okay in there by herself?” Cedar asked.

“She’ll be fine,” he said. “That is, she’s not a danger to herself or others anymore. She’s just…heartbroken.”

“Are
you
going to be okay?” Cedar asked, placing her hand on his arm.

He was silent for a long moment. “Maybe. I don’t know,” he finally answered. “I know she wasn’t being herself, but…Anyway, I had another one of the healers run the tests on Irial again, just in case the, well, situation was clouding my judgment. Same result. Nothing.”

“I’m going to go to Logheryman’s,” Cedar said. “I’ll see if he’ll come back here so you can have a look at him too.”

Felix nodded. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“It’s okay,” Cedar said. “You should stay here with Jane.”

He nodded. Cedar stuck her head back into the room and told Jane she’d be back to see her soon. When she emerged from Felix’s home, she squinted into the morning sun and saw that two guards were waiting for her. They bowed, and then fell into step behind her as she walked swiftly home.

When she arrived in the round courtyard, she found Finn sprawled out under the branches of a willow tree with a book. The sunlight was bouncing off the waves of his hair, and for a moment Cedar just stopped and soaked in the peaceful scene. Then he looked up and his face broke into a smile. He held out his arms. “Welcome home.”

Cedar sat down next to him. He put his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “Hello, my hardworking, never-sleeping queen,” he said into her collarbone. She breathed in his scent and wrapped her fingers through his hair, feeling herself relax. She tried to pull herself closer, as if she could burrow into him and stay there for a while. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “While you were sleeping, Felix told me that Jane’s going to be okay; I thought you’d be elated.”

“I am,” Cedar said. “Although she’s in a lot of pain. Did he tell you about Irial?”

Finn nodded and frowned. “I don’t understand why Felix can’t figure out what’s wrong with him. He’s never been unable to diagnose an illness or wound before. Though to hear Felix tell it, the gancanagh aren’t the most reliable creatures.”

“He’s a person, not a creature!” Cedar said. “And he can’t make up the fact that he’s really sick.”

“Maybe,” Finn said. “But let Felix handle it—he’s the healer. You’ve got other things to worry about.”

Cedar shook her head. “Nothing as important as this. I don’t know…I just can’t shake the feeling that something is really wrong. I believe him.”

“Cedar, I know you want to prove yourself. You’re going to be a great queen. You
are
a great queen. But you need to delegate—you can’t solve every problem in Tír na nÓg
and
Ériu. You’re going to burn yourself out. Leave this one to Felix.”

“Felix has already told me there’s nothing he can do,” Cedar said, getting to her feet. “All he cares about right now is getting Jane back, which is good—they need each other. But Irial came to
me
. He said Logheryman is
dying
. So I’m going to go. I thought you might want to come with me.”

“Where?” Finn asked, alarm spreading across his face.

“To Earth, of course. I’m going to go find Logheryman…and the other Unseen if I can locate them.”

“Wait just a minute!” Finn said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Send someone else if you have to—
I’ll
go. We still don’t know if we’ve caught all the druids, remember? What if this is a trick to get you back there?”

“Look, I’ll be careful,” Cedar insisted. “But I’m not going to hide here forever. What kind of queen—or person—would I be if I just sat back and did nothing? That’s the kind of queen Nuala would have been. These people came to me for help, so I’m going to try to give it to them.”

“You need to stop taking unnecessary risks!” Finn said, getting to his feet as well. “You can’t just do whatever you want anymore. Are you sure you’re not
looking
for another crisis to solve?”

Cedar felt like he’d slapped her in the face. Her mouth moved soundlessly as she struggled to find the words to tell him how incredibly unfair he was being. When she found them, her voice was barely audible.

“Do you think I like it?” she whispered. “Do you think I liked it when Eden was gone, and I thought she was dead? Do you think I liked listening to the druids torturing her mind? Do you think I’m glad my mother is dead, and my best friend was almost burned alive? Do you think I enjoyed hearing you scream as Liam cut you open with that knife? I see these things playing over and over again in my mind—
that’s
why I can’t control the fire. Is that what you think—that I want more of it?”

Finn shook his head and started to move toward her. “Of course that’s not what I meant—”

“Well, that’s what you said,” she snarled, then turned on her heel and stormed into their bedroom, shoving the heavy round door shut behind her. She threw open her wardrobe and tore off her dress, pulling her jeans and T-shirt back on. A small voice inside said that Finn only wanted to protect her, but Cedar couldn’t stomach the idea of being safe and sound in Tír na nÓg while others—who were not so different from them—were suffering and dying. Why couldn’t he see that?

She stalked out of the wardrobe and opened a sidh to Logheryman’s house. She glanced at the door to the courtyard once more, and then stepped through the shimmering air, leaving their room behind.

Cedar’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the front of the house, which was just catching the early-morning rays of sun. The windows were draped in black, and a long black cloth hung on the front door. “No,” she whispered before rushing forward and knocking on the door. Maggie answered it, and her face told Cedar everything she needed to know.

“Well, you’ve come. He said you would,” the old woman said. “But I’m afraid you’re too late. For him, anyway.” There was a hint of reproach in her voice, and her face had lost its rosy glow. Maggie had helped them find the Lia Fáil, but Cedar had not been able to return the favor by saving her friend.

Cedar stepped inside the house. She struggled to find the right words as she clutched a hand to her stomach, which felt like it was filled with several large rocks.

“I’m so…so sorry,” Cedar said in a small voice, unable to meet the other woman’s eyes.

“You’re alone?” Maggie asked, leading her into the sitting room.

Cedar sat on the edge of the sofa and nodded. “Irial arrived last night with the message. But Jane—my human friend—she had touched him…”

Maggie’s eyes darkened. “Is she all right?”

“Yes,” Cedar said. “But I should have come sooner. I’m sorry. He told us last night that Logheryman was sick, but I didn’t think…”

There was a long silence. Then Maggie asked, “And how is the young lad? Is he still alive?”

“Yes, but he’s not well,” Cedar answered. “Felix—our healer—says he can’t tell what’s wrong with him.”