Chapter Thirty-Four

A dull ache pounded in my head, my cheek pressed against a cold concrete floor. My eyes flittered open, and I tried to move my hands, only to find them locked up in gemel handcuffs.

“Shit,” I muttered beneath my breath.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Malachy chirped. “Just in time to meet your doom. The Fir Bolgs should be coming any minute.”

“Shut up, Malachy,” Finn growled, gathering me close to him.

I breathed in the smell of leather and laundry, and a ripple of calm passed through me, my fingers pressing into the lapels of Finn’s jacket. Blinking the crust out of my eyes, I spotted Malachy along with Eamonn and Grainne huddling together in the corner of the cell, all equally cuffed. A black figure crouched in the corner, and Anny Black turned her dark eyes toward me, her lip turned up in a sneer.

“Finn?” My voice sounded like gravel, and I coughed, rubbing the side of my face with my arm.

“Yes.” He squeezed my shoulder.

“Is it true? Have the Fir Bolgs taken Teamhair?”

“It’s true.”

My chest tightened, and I sat up, holding my head in my hands. “If I hadn’t… Oh God.”

My mind traveled back to the moment when I agreed to Gede to give up my soul to save Finn. How could I have been so stupid? So reckless? How could I not have known that in the end, the demon would find a way to take everything from me? I should have told Finn. I should have gone after my soul first, made myself whole again. Now it was too late. For my mother. For me. For everyone.

Finn’s gemel cuffs clinked together as he reached out to touch my back. “If you hadn’t what? Eamonn told me how you destroyed the demon, how you tried to save your mother. What you did was very brave.”

I snorted, bitterness burning in my chest. There was no point in telling Finn why the demon had appeared in the fourth dimension in the first place, seeing as though we were all about to die.

Lifting my head, I turned to face Eamonn. “Is the demon dead?”

He shrugged, staring at his lap. “I don’t know. You can’t really kill a demon with manmade weapons or enchanted ones. The only way to kill a demon…well…”

My skin prickled. What if he came back? What if he went after my mom in the afterlife? “What?” I pressed.

“Through very ancient magic. Well, it isn’t really ‘magic.’ It’s more like faith, but the old Christians wouldn’t use that term, either.”

“Máirtín…” I whispered, the monk’s face flashing up in my memory. He had almost refused, saying he wasn’t a priest, not really. But whatever divinity he possessed, it worked on me. “It was the blessing he gave after…”

“After what?” Finn pressed.

“It’s…” I shook my head and waved him away. “It’s a long story.”

I looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears from welling up in my eyes, but it felt impossible. My mother was gone. Tír na nÓg lost. Because of me. And now all of us were going to die. A horrible sob escaped my lips, and I buried my head in my arms, pulling my knees against my chest.

“Shhh, Elizabeth…” He smoothed his hand up and down my arm, but his touch sent a rush of bile up through my throat. If he knew what I had done…if he knew the terrible choice I had made for him…

Grainne scrambled over to me and whispered. “There now. We’ll sort this out.”

“How?” My voice came out in a high-pitched whine. “I don’t know how to break through these!” I held out my wrists and shook them in her face. “I don’t know how to do anything!”

Her forehead knitted together, and she stared helplessly at me.

“I killed my mother, Grainne. I killed her…” I burrowed my face into my knees again, wanting nothing more than to retreat into the shadows of the cell. The walls echoed with my sobs, and I didn’t care. I had nothing left to give.

“When I was a young woman, about your age,” Grainne’s low voice filled the tiny room, “I returned from a run to find everything lost. My neighbors, they were too afraid to help. They—”

Her voice broke, and I looked up through the curtain of my hair. She ran her hand back and forth over the straps of her boots.

“I had to collect the swaying bodies of my children from where they hanged. From the tree outside our house. What was left of them. My beautiful and quiet Margaret. My sweet Sean. My funny little Tom. I buried them myself. My skin turned black from the earth. Took me all night. And there’s not a day…” She trailed off and grabbed my fingers with an abrupt gesture, lacing them with mine.

“There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t wish I could have taken their place. Not one day.” Her green irises shimmered bright against her reddened eyes. “What your mother gave you is a gift. If I could have given it to my children, I would have. A thousand times.”

I shook my head, holding her fingers tight. “But she’s dead. She’s dead because of me.”

She pressed my fingers against her heart. “No. Your mother loved you. And that kind of love is a gift. You just take it. That’s all. There’s nothing for it in return.”

Her green eyes bore into mine, and a renewed strength surged down my spine. Pushing my fingers back into my lap, Grainne flashed me a dazzling smile.

“And come on now. Sure, you can do anything,” she said. “I’ve seen you stop an army. Kill a Dark Lord with naught but your Jedi mind tricks. You can do this.”

I stared down at the gemel cuffs across my wrists, my gaze shifting to Finn. “I’ve tried. I’ve kind of broken through a few times, but every time, I’ve failed…”

He smiled, curling my fingers into his palm. “Then perhaps this time you could fail better?”

I snorted, wiping the snot from my nose with the back of my arm. “That’s the story of my life.”

“See! You’ve had a lot of practice.” Grainne nudged me with her shoulder. “You just need to concentrate.”

A low, sickening laugh rumbled from the corner, and Anny’s cloaked body shook as she sat up. “If you’re placing your bets on that witless girl, Fianna, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

“You have a better idea?” Grainne snapped.

My eyes flitted over to Anny. I actually wondered if she did.

“Do you know how to break through these?” I asked.

She sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “You think if I did, I would be sitting around listening to your whinging and bellyaching?” She nodded to Eamonn. “You should ask the Druid. It’s his folk that makes them.”

Eamonn let out a deep breath, staring at the bonds. “It’s a paradox, I’m afraid. I can’t undo the enchantment without magic. And since my magic doesn’t work…”

“Well, great. Then we’re as good as fucked,” Malachy said, pacing the wall of the cell. “It was nice knowing you all.”

I stared at the floor, wriggling against the tight metal binding my wrists. “We’re not fucked,” I said under my breath. “I just need to think.”

“Well, think faster,” Malachy said. “We’re running out of time.”

“That’s not helping!” Finn roared.

Malachy raised his bound hands. “Just trying to keep things moving here.”

Grainne jumped to standing. “Give her a minute.”

“Guys!” I darted to my feet. “Look, the thing is, I can try to make a small space to get through the gemel, but it drains my power. I’ll never get everyone out of here with what little I can do.”

“Great.” Malachy rolled his eyes.

“That’s why I need your help.” I turned to Eamonn. “Do you know a spell that will undo the enchantment? Something you could say once I create the window?”

The Druid’s gaze flitted to the floor. “Well, see, the thing about that is…”

“Yes or no, Eamonn,” I demanded.

“No, I can’t break through them,” he spluttered. “I’m bound to Bel, to his will. Once a Druid manifests a spell into the universe, he or she cannot undo it.” He shrugged. “Sort of annoying, actually.”

I blew a lock of hair out my eyes. Malachy was right. I didn’t have much time. I closed my eyes, trying to collect my power and focus on the gemel.

“I know a spell,” Anny said from the corner.

My eyes snapped open and narrowed on the witch. “I don’t trust you.”

She shrugged. “Your choice. But I for one ain’t particular to burning at the stake this evening. You want it or not?”

“Does it involve selling my soul to you?”

Or some other demon?

“Elizabeth, stop!” Finn stood up and clenched his fists.

“Every spell comes at a price,” Anny snapped. “We’re not all children of the sun like this scarecrow over here.” She nodded in Eamonn’s general direction.

“I’m not going to be beholden to some god.” I shook my head.

Fool me once…

“It’s more like favor for favor.” Anny rocked slightly.

“Don’t do it, Elizabeth.” Finn shook his head.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” I crouched in front of Anny. “What god are we talking about?”

She smiled, flashing a row of cracked yellow teeth. “You want to trick the Celts, you call on Bricriu.”

Familiarity resonated in my consciousness. The old Celtic trickster god, always stirring up trouble. Well, at least he wouldn’t eat my soul.

Maybe.

A door groaned open from far off down the hall, footsteps echoing toward us.

“They’re here,” Malachy said, standing on tiptoe to get a glimpse through the window. “If we’re going to do it, we need to do this now.”

I nodded at Anny. “Fine. Give me the spell.”

She leaned in close to my face, and the stench of blood nearly made me gag. She mouthed a few words and something took root in the back of my tongue, tingling on the edge of my teeth.

The door banged open, and Amergin stepped in, followed by the blond Fir Bolg. I didn’t have time to panic. I closed my eyes and settled into the energy binding my wrists, swimming through the strands of the spell. The darkness stretched out in all directions, the hum of the gemel magic just beyond the shadows. What had Eamonn said?

You can’t undo what you can’t see.

But what if that was the point? That I was still trying to use my mortal sight in this spiritual world, this virtually sightless place? I allowed myself to sink deeper into the shadows, and instead of reaching out for the Druid firewall, I allowed it to overwhelm me until I became a part of its complex materials, my soul weaving itself into it until I emerged on the other side of the abyss. And there, the spell appeared, spread out like a birthday cake, the pattern so perfect, so obvious in its immaculate structure. I reached out to it with my mind. I didn’t need Anny’s spell. I didn’t need anything. I grasped the threads, pulling them apart, and I felt the enchantment on the gemel cuffs snap with a satisfying twist.

“You’re coming with me,” a voice echoed from faraway. A hand clamped down on my arm.

My eyes snapped open, and I sent the blond Fir Bolg careening back into the hall with the full force of my power.

“Seize her!” Amergin cried.

Niall and Aoife charged toward me, but Finn barreled into them with his bound hands, sending them tumbling to the floor.

“Get us out of here!” Malachy cried.

I closed my eyes and threw my energy over everyone—Finn, Grainne, Eamonn, Malachy, and even Anny Black. The Veil bent to me, welcoming me in its beautiful folds before settling me gently on the other side. When I opened my eyes again, we stood beside the pool Phelan had brought Finn and me to, the pool where I made my vow to protect his tribe and all the Fae. The clear air of Tír na nÓg filled my lungs, and my eyes watered in the blinding morning light as it filtered through the trees, their fragile leaves shimmering and shaking in the wind.

Grainne and Eamonn smiled at each other, their bound hands reaching out for reassurance.

Finn crawled over to me, a wide grin on his face.

“You did it, my love,” he whispered in my ear.

I let out a long breath and stared up at the sky, exhaustion rushing through my limbs and leaving me almost paralyzed. All I wanted was to sink into the earth, roll the grass over me and curl up into a tiny ball until I disappeared. Relief and joy of having escaped Amergin mixed with the horrible pain of losing my mother, and the overwhelming rage I felt back in the chamber turned to a heavy stone of loss, sinking deeper and deeper into the pit of my stomach.

Malachy scratched his head, looking around. “Where the hell are we?”

Anny muttered under her breath. “Stupid, nasty Fae, dragging me here to the other side. Doesn’t know what I did to escape this filthy place.”

My ears pricked up as a sharp whistle sounded through the woods, answered by another and then another.

“Someone’s here.” I sat up. My hands were still bound, but I readied my aisling powers as the trees rustled with movement.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

A wall of arrows shot inches from my boot. Warning shots. I started back, colliding into Finn’s broad chest.

“Don’t shoot!” a familiar voice rang through the underbrush.

“Una?” I shook my head, scanning the tree line for her.

“Stop!” she screamed, and then her blond head broke through the thick forest, a wide smile dancing on her lips. “Ma’am!”

She pulled me in with a fierce hug, stealing the breath from my lungs.

“What are you doing here?” she cried.

I leaned away to take in her boiled armor, the short sword dangling from her waist. Una no longer appeared as the frail slip of a girl from Bres’s castle. With square shoulders and her chin raised slightly, she looked like a gladiator, and her amber eyes possessed a flicker of confidence I had never seen before.

“What are you doing here?” I smiled. “You look amazing!”

Her pale face turned pink, and she placed her hand on the back of her neck. “All the Tuatha Dé Danann have gathered here, and more Faeries are coming every day. We’re building a resistance.”

I tilted my head. “We?”

Another rustle through the bushes precipitated General Aodhan, bowing his head to avoid a branch. “Yes. We. All of us. The tribes have united against the Fir Bolgs.” He stood next to Una and glanced down at her, rising to his full height.

She beamed under his gaze and turned back to me. “We’re so glad you’re safe.”

I held up my bound hands and returned her smile. “Do you have something that can break these?”

“No,” she said. “But that lock doesn’t look too sturdy.” Una slipped a knife out of her sleeve and jammed it into the cuffs’ locking mechanism. She squinted, cocking her head to the side and wriggling the knife until the lock snapped open, the cool air hitting my sore wrists. She did the same for Finn, Grainne, Eamonn, and Malachy, but she hesitated in front of Anny Black.

“What should we do with this one?” She turned to me.

Finn leaned down, his warm breath hitting my ear. “We can’t let her go, Elizabeth. We have no idea what she’s capable of with her powers.”

I stared at Anny, and she met my gaze through her straggly hair. Shrugging off Finn, I stalked over to her, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I should kill you for what you did to my mother,” I said in a low voice. “No one should have to live like that.”

“Your mother and I had an agreement,” Anny muttered. “She knew what she was doing.”

White-hot anger boiled up through my chest, and I took a deep breath as my powers trembled through my hands. “Agreement or not, you are done, Anny Black. You are officially out of business.”

She raised her chin, her hair falling away from her face. Once again, the uncanny feeling came over me of seeing three women at once. A young girl, a woman, a crone. I blinked, and she returned to her shriveled form.

“I will let you go.” I swallowed hard. “On the condition you will never perform your dark magic on another person or creature in this realm or the next. If I find out you’re up to your old tricks, I’ll kill you myself. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “I understand, Fae woman, and Anny Black never forgets.”

“Elizabeth, you’re making a mistake,” Finn called, stomping to my side.

“Stay out of this,” I spat, and the venom in my voice burned through the air.

He glowered but returned to Eamonn, whispering something in his ear.

I motioned to Una to pick the gemel lock, and she fell to her side.

Crossing my arms across my chest, I peered down at the witch. “I’ll give you back that spell. In the end, I didn’t need it.”

Anny smirked, rubbing her wrists as the lock sprung loose. “Ah, ye keep it now. Ye never know when a spell like that might come in handy.”

Her hands now free, Anny swept her black cloak around her body and then she seemed to crumple in on herself. With a rush of wind, her body exploded into a swarm of screeching bats, and they sailed on the breeze and into the dark depths of the forest.

“Well, that was weird,” Malachy said.