Among the Unseen (14 page)

“I don’t know about this,” Niall said, but Eden had already jumped down from the tree, landing on the ground like a cat on her hands and the balls of her feet. Niall had been teaching her how to do it, and she had picked the ability up quickly. “What are you going to say to him?” he asked.

Eden shrugged. “I dunno. We can cheer him up. Maybe we can ask him what a gancanagh is. Besides, if I’m queen someday I’ll need to know about all these things.”

Niall gave her a skeptical look. “You know you’re probably not going to be queen for like a million years, right?”

Eden made a face at him. “I’ll still need to know,” she said. “You coming or not?”

Niall jumped down from the tree. “Okay. But we’d better not get caught.”

“We won’t,” Eden assured him. She opened a sidh and peered through the shimmering patch of air into Felix’s living room. She was pretty sure he was gone, but if he caught them, she could always say they had just come to visit. The room was empty. She grabbed Niall’s hand and pulled him through.

“See? No one’s here,” she whispered.

“You don’t know that,” he said, looking around nervously.

“It’s just Felix’s house—I’ve been here bunches of times. You have too! You said you help your dad all the time! There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried,” he said defensively. “
I
just don’t get any special treatment when I break the rules.”

Eden wrinkled her nose. “I don’t, either.”

“Yeah, right,” he muttered, but he led the way into the twisting maze of hallways and doors until he stopped in front of one. “This is it,” he whispered. They pressed their ears against the door, listening.

“I don’t think anyone’s in there,” Eden said. She put her hand on the latch and turned it. The room was empty, except for a bed and a long table and a set of cabinets against the wall. Her mother would have called it modern. Eden would call it boring. But the man on the bed…
he
was not boring. He looked like he’d once been incredibly handsome, but now he was more like a skeleton with skin stretched over it. Eden tiptoed over to his bedside, all nervousness gone.

Hello, who do we have here
?

The voice in Eden’s head made her jump. It was as if older Eden had suddenly thrust herself at the forefront of Eden’s consciousness. Eden looked down at the man again. Clearly the older Eden found him
very
interesting.

“Hi,” she said.

The man opened his eyes, which were as black as ink, and blinked a few times. He seemed to be having trouble focusing on her. “Hello,” he said at last, and his voice came out all thin and raspy. “Who are you?”

Eden cocked her head, waiting to see if older Eden would say something else, but she didn’t. “I’m Eden,” she answered. “This is Niall. What’s your name?”

“Irial,” he croaked. “Why…?”

“We came to visit you,” Eden said. “You probably don’t get a lot of visitors.”

One of Irial’s cheeks lifted slightly, as if he was trying to smile. “You’re right,” he said.

Niall was still glancing nervously at the door, but Eden was transfixed. Irial’s forehead was shiny with sweat, and there was a strand of curly black hair stuck in it. She reached out to brush it off his forehead, but he flinched away.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you,” she said, withdrawing her hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just…a habit. Most people can’t touch me.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“I’m a…gancanagh,” he said.

“What’s that?”

He seemed to be searching for the right words—or maybe just the energy to speak. “Women—human women—fall in love with me very easily.”

“Really?” Eden asked, fascinated. “Just by touching you?” Niall made a face, which she thought was rather juvenile.

Irial nodded stiffly.

“I know why you’re sick,” Eden said.

He raised his eyebrows. “Indeed?” He made a garbled sort of sound that she thought was maybe a laugh. “Then you know more than I do.”

“They haven’t told you? You made a deal that you would be safe as long as the humans believed in you,” she explained. “But now they don’t, so you’re going to die.”

“I don’t remember making any such deal,” Irial said. His voice was starting to fade even more, so Eden had to lean in close to hear him.

“It was a long time ago, and it wasn’t just you—it was all of the Unseen. But don’t worry: my mum is going to save you,” Eden said.

“And your mother is…?”

“The queen,” Eden said. “She’s going to find and destroy the magic jewels that made the spell. Then you’ll get better.”

“Ah, yes. Your mother is very brave. And very kind.”

“She is,” Eden agreed. Then she asked, “Why do they call you the Unseen? I can see you just fine. Is it only humans who can’t see you?”

Irial started to shake his head, but then winced in pain. “Oh, they can see us well enough if we choose to show ourselves to them. No, it’s because in the great dealings of the gods we have been left to our own devices. The Danann, in particular, prefer to pretend we do not exist. Until now, that is. That’s why your mother is so special.”

“Not all of us are like that! My dad told me that while he was on Ériu, it was his job to find all of the other magical creatures and make friends with them.”

A faint smile passed over Irial’s features. “Ah, yes, I heard there was a rogue Danann making the rounds a few years ago. Didn’t have the pleasure of meeting him myself, though. You, your father, and your mother seem to care more than most. Not that it matters. Soon, we’ll all be dead.”

“No, you won’t,” Eden said stubbornly. “My mother is going to save you. And if she can’t, I will.”

CHAPTER 12

C
eda
r stared between Abhartach’s insensate form and Felix, not registering at first what the dwarf had told them. She had been so certain this plan would work. Then she swiveled on her heel and faced Finn. “The druid lied to us. I
knew
she couldn’t be trusted!”

“We don’t know that for sure,” he said. “Maybe they were stolen by one of us—maybe Abhartach can’t find them because they’re in Tír na nÓg.”

“Or maybe Helen thought she’d send us on a wild goose chase, looking for magic jewels that don’t exist. Can he try again?” she asked Felix. “What if I bring him more blood?”

Felix shook his head. “He says he gave it everything he has, that he does not have the strength to look again. But Cedar, I have to agree with Finn. Helen
may
have made the whole thing up…but it’s just as possible that they were removed from Ériu sometime in the last thousand years—either by the person who stole them or someone else, maybe even one of our people.”

“I think we should go see Brighid,” Finn said. “She helped us find the Lia Fáil against crazy odds; maybe she can help us now.”

“She helped us find the Lia Fáil by sending us to Abhartach,” Cedar pointed out. “But you’re right—she might know something we don’t. We’ll go to Brighid’s. And if she can’t help, Helen’s going to answer to me.”

Cedar opened the sidh to the front gate of Brighid’s island home. She’d half expected it wouldn’t work; the last time they’d tried to visit Brighid without an invitation, they hadn’t been able to open the sidh onto her property. But the Elder goddess had either lowered the security or was expecting their arrival. It was late evening in Thailand. The horizon was a deep purple, and a white moon hung in the sky, just brushing the top of the mountains that rose from the ocean like silent sentinels. Cedar pressed the silver button and the gate slid down silently. When they entered the front hall, it was not their friend who met them, but Vanessa, one of her human attendants.

“We’ve come to see Brighid,” Cedar said.

“Yes,” Vanessa said. “She will see you.” She led them to the balcony overlooking the ocean.

Brighid was sitting in a wicker chair lined with a flowered cushion, her back to them as she stared out over the ocean, watching the moon rise. A deep blue shawl was draped over her shoulders. She did not turn, though she must have heard them arrive.

“Brighid?” Cedar said. Slowly, the goddess turned her head, and Cedar could not keep a shout of surprise from escaping her lips. Brighid’s once flawless skin was now an emetic shade of gray, like porridge left out on the counter too long. Her prominent cheekbones were still there, but the skin was pulled so tightly around them that it gave her a skeletal appearance. Her eyes were sunken and rimmed with black. Her lips, once full of color, were so pale they could barely be distinguished from the rest of her face. Her normally lustrous hair hung lank around her shoulders. Her dull eyes passed over them, but then she turned back to the ocean without a word. Cedar rushed to her side and took one of her hands in her own. It was like holding a butterfly—she worried she might crush it if she held on too tight.

Felix had rushed to Brighid’s other side. He looked completely bewildered by the state of her. “How is this possible?” he whispered. “What’s happened to you?”

There was a long silence, and then Brighid’s lips parted. When she spoke, it was in a paper-thin whisper, a marked contrast from her usually strong and confident voice.

“My time…is over,” Brighid said, her eyes never leaving the horizon.

“No,” Felix said fiercely. “There must be some explanation. This is impossible.
We don’t get sick
.”

Finn looked utterly lost. Cedar reached out a hand and drew him over to her. He sat down next to her at Brighid’s feet, looking up at his friend imploringly. “Brid, please, tell us what has happened. Tell us how we can help you.”

A faint smile flickered over Brighid’s wasted face, and she stretched out a bony hand to cup Finn’s cheek. “You must let me go, Fionnbharr. There is nothing that can be done for me. For any of them.”

“Any of them?” Cedar repeated softly. “Do you mean the Unseen? We’ve just been to see Abhartach—he’s sick too. So are all of them, from what we can tell. Is this the same thing? But the rest of the Danann aren’t sick. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I should have been the first to die,” Brighid whispered. “Leave me. I will be gone soon…but not soon enough.”

Cedar and the others exchanged startled glances. “Brighid, this isn’t
you
talking,” she said. “Let us help you. Tell us what we can do and we’ll do it!” Normally, Cedar would have expected a sharp retort—or a peal of laughter. But instead Brighid stayed silent.

“Of course,” Felix breathed, understanding dawning across his face.

“What?” Cedar asked.

“She was the one who made the deal,” he answered. “Didn’t you?” He looked at Brighid, but she didn’t seem to hear him. He stood up, and Cedar and Finn pushed themselves to their feet too. “It makes sense,” he continued. “Let’s assume that Helen’s story about the Unseen is true, and that the jewels exist. None of the Unseen has the power to wield such a spell. And where did the jewels come from in the first place?
Brighid
cast the spell, so she is bound to it, just as the Unseen are.”

“Is that true?” Cedar asked Brighid. “Why didn’t you tell us? Does that mean you know where the jewels are?”

Brighid’s shoulders slumped, and Finn lunged forward to catch her before she fell out of her chair. “It is true,” she whispered. “And the jewels are gone. I was a fool. I deserve my fate.” Her eyes closed, and she slumped forward. Felix lifted her into his arms and gently laid her down on one of the balcony’s lounge chairs.

“Is she…?” Cedar asked in alarm.

“No,” he answered. “She’s only sleeping. But she is very weak.”

“This can’t happen,” Cedar said, starting to pace the balcony. “There has to be another way.” Then the solution came to her in a rush of adrenaline. She felt dizzy with the shock of it. Of course. There
was
another way.

“Cedar?” Finn asked, his eyes wary. “I recognize that look. What are you thinking?”

“We’ve been assuming that the only way to help the Unseen is to break their bond with the humans. But we can’t do that because the jewels are lost. What we
can
do is convince the humans to believe in magic again, by showing them real proof. Once enough of them believe in magic, the spell should kick in again, and the Unseen will get better.”

For a moment, Felix and Finn were both perfectly still. Then they both spoke at the same time: “No.”

“What do you mean, no? If we don’t do anything, the Unseen are all going to die. Including Brighid,” Cedar said, her voice rising.

“I know it probably seems like an obvious solution to you, Cedar, but hear me out,” Felix said. “It’s true that the humans used to know about us, but that was a very, very long time ago. If they found out there were magical beings out there who never grew old, who could grant their every wish, they would stop at nothing in their efforts to access that power.”

“So what do you suggest? That we just let the Unseen die? I can’t stand by while that happens. I won’t. I’m the only one who needs to make a scene—I won’t expose the rest of us. They don’t even need to know that Tír na nÓg exists.”

“And if you’re captured?” Finn asked darkly.

“Then I’ll escape through the sidhe.”

“Even if you’re unconscious?” he asked. “And let’s say you’re right—you know you can’t close the sidhe. You could be followed. If you came back to Tír na nÓg, you might lead their armies straight to us.”

“Well, then, I wouldn’t use the sidhe,” Cedar said stubbornly. “But once I explain what I am, and show them what I can do, they’ll
have
to believe in magic. I’m living proof.”

“You can’t…” Finn’s voice broke. “Cedar, you don’t know what they’ll do to you. You wanted to leave Ériu in the first place because you were afraid of the tests they’d run on Eden if they found out about her.”

“Yes, because she’s a
child
.”

“There must be another way!” he said. “We don’t know for sure that the jewels aren’t still here. Maybe the illness clouded Abhartach’s ability—maybe he was wrong! We need to keep looking!”

“Finn, look at Brighid,” Cedar said, waving her arm toward their friend. “We don’t have time. This plan will work. I know you’re worried about me, but I can do this without getting hurt.”

“You don’t know that!” he exploded. “Let’s take a second to think about human history! It’s a pattern that happens over and over again—the humans find someone they think is a god, and at first they worship him. Or her. But then they start blaming that god for everything that goes wrong, demanding more than he or she is able to give. And then they decide that god is to blame for
all
of their problems, and all of a sudden he or she is public enemy number one.”

“Finn, you’re exaggerating. It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“It
is
that way! Look at Jesus, for Christ’s sake! Look what happened to him! Joan of Arc! Rasputin! There are dozens of examples!”

“It’s not going to come to that. I won’t be there for long enough,” she said quietly. “And even if it did, in the absolute worst-case scenario, don’t you think some things are worth dying for? Isn’t my single life worth the lives of all the Unseen?”

Finn’s eyes were burning into hers. “Not to me,” he said. “Not to Eden.”

Cedar turned away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. Then she opened a sidh to her bedroom in Tír na nÓg.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m going to get Jane,” Cedar said. “She must be wondering what’s happened to us. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared through the sidh before he could stop her, and was relieved when he didn’t follow. She
did
want to make sure Jane was okay, but for the most part she just wanted a few quiet moments to think. Could she really go through with this plan? Would it work? Would she be putting her people in jeopardy? Herself?

“Jane?” she called out. “It’s okay; it’s just me.” She jogged around the pond and through the field of poppies, calling her friend’s name. There was no answer.

Is nothing simple?
she thought as she pushed open the door leading to the willow-lined courtyard. She expected to see Jane chatting with Riona on one of the benches, but the room was totally empty.

Now she was starting to worry. “Where, oh where have you gone, my friend?” she muttered under her breath. Then she stopped in her tracks and smacked herself on the forehead. How could she have been so stupid? She immediately made a sidh leading to Felix’s house. “Jane?” she yelled. She ran through the rooms, trying to remember where Felix had stashed Irial. She was so intent on her search that she bowled into the red-haired little boy who had brought her the message at Eden’s birthday party.

“Niall!” she shouted as he picked himself up off the floor and prepared to take off.

“What?” he yelled, but then he recognized her and his face turned red. “Oh! I’m sorry. Your Majesty, I didn’t—” He cut off in midsentence and looked wildly around, as if searching for someone else.

“It’s okay, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “Is there a woman here? A human woman?”

“A human? No,” he said, his eyes round.

“Where is Irial?” she asked. “And what are you doing here?”

He glanced away. “I was helping my dad. He’s just, uh, taking a break, so he’s not here right now.” He led her through the maze of rooms and hallways until he pushed open the door to one of the rooms.

“Can you wait here, please? I won’t be long,” she said, leaving him in the hallway and closing the door behind her. Irial looked worse than ever, but he managed to open his eyes and fix them on Cedar.

“Did she come here?” she asked.

“Who?” he croaked.

“Jane. The human,” Cedar said. She cursed herself as her heart rate picked up at the sight of him.

“No,” he answered.

“We’re doing everything we can,” she assured him, wondering how long he’d been alone.

“Have you figured out what’s causing the illness?” he asked. Cedar glanced toward the door, then sat down gingerly on the edge of his bed.

“It’s a curse. It was placed on the Unseen a long time ago, when you were being hunted. So long as humans believed in the world of magic, you would be protected from your enemies. But if they stopped believing, you would die.”

Irial’s eyes were wide. “She was right, then.”

“Who was right?”

“Oh…uh, one of the old selkies told me a story like that, long ago. I didn’t really believe her at the time. Is there anything that can be done?”

Cedar looked down at her hands. “There were these jewels that were involved in the making of the spell. If we could destroy them, it would break the bond, and you would get better. That was our plan. But…they’re gone. We can’t find them. So…there’s no other choice. There’s only one way to make the humans believe.”