Among the Unseen (9 page)

Cedar waited, trying not to interrupt with more questions.

“What the selkie said was true, although she probably didn’t know the entire story,” Helen continued. “I certainly don’t, and I doubt anyone who’s still alive does.” She spoke slowly, as though carefully choosing her words. “Many hundreds of years ago, no one knows how long exactly, a spell was cast that bound the magical creatures of our land—the Unseen—to humanity’s belief in the magical realm. As long as humans believed in that which they could not see, the Unseen would live in peace, avoiding the notice of their enemies.” She shook her head slowly. “I’m sure it seemed like a prudent decision at the time, perhaps even a necessary one.”

“Why was it necessary?” Cedar asked.

“They had enemies,” Helen said simply. “The church, perhaps, or this could have happened even before Saint Patrick arrived in Ireland. But it is safe to say that there have always been forces in the world that wish to dispose of the magical creatures of old. I don’t know who their enemies were, but the danger must have been great for them to make such a bargain.”

“Maybe it didn’t seem like that much of a risk to them at the time,” Finn said, looking thoughtful. “If this happened centuries ago, no one would have imagined that humans would stop believing in the magical realm. Before science and technology came onto the scene, magic was the only way humans were able to explain the world around them. Belief in the hidden realm was part of their everyday life. It was part of who they
were
. So it must have seemed like a safe bet.”

“So the deal was that the Unseen would die if humans stopped believing in magic? That’s what’s happening?” Cedar asked. “Logheryman was fine just a few weeks ago. According to Irial, he was too. Why would it happen so suddenly?”

Helen’s blue eyes had a haunted look to them. “I didn’t think it would happen that way. Of course, there are still
some
who believe,” she added. “We druids, for example, but there are few of us. And there are other humans who believe in the old places where magic runs particularly deep. But it appears that there are no longer enough to sustain the power of the spell. It must have passed a certain threshold, which triggered the curse.”

“But the selkies said you could break it,” Cedar protested.

Helen shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid they were mistaken. Once, it would have been true. The druids were given the task of guarding the eight precious jewels that were used in the binding of the spell—or curse, depending on how you look at it. If the stones were destroyed, the bond between the Unseen and humanity would be broken, leaving them defenseless against their enemies. Keeping those jewels safe was our most sacred trust.” She gazed at the floor, her face etched with sadness. “But we failed. Despite all our efforts, the jewels were stolen…and they’ve never been recovered.”

“So maybe
that’s
why the Unseen are dying—because these jewels were stolen,” Cedar said. “Did it happen recently?”

“No. They were stolen in 1007, in the summer, to be precise,” Helen said. “The jewels had been embedded in the cover of what is now known as the Book of Kells, but the book was stolen from the church where it was being kept. When it was found, it was missing the cover—and, of course, the jewels.”

“Why was it in a church if the druids were supposed to guard it?”

“I have no idea. But I do know that at least one druid was always with the jewels, and one of us has remained with the Book of Kells ever since in case the cover is found. There were some missing pages attached to the cover, which might help identify it as belonging to the Kells manuscript.”

“So that’s why you and Liam were at Trinity College—to be with the Book of Kells,” Cedar said, remembering what Rohan had told her.

“Liam was preparing to retire, though based on what you’ve told me, I suppose he had other plans. I was to take over as Keeper of Manuscripts after he left.”

Finn had been following the volley of their conversation quietly. “So if the jewels are destroyed, the bond between the Unseen and the humans will be severed, is that right?”

“Possibly,” Helen answered. “I am not sure how the spell works. But it stands to reason that after the bond is broken, they will no longer be subject to the frailties of human belief. However, they’d still be vulnerable to their enemies.”

“But if no one believes they exist, it’s not likely they have many enemies left,” Cedar pointed out. “At least they’d have a chance.”

Helen set her elbows on the desk and put her head in her hands. “In theory, yes. But it doesn’t matter, don’t you see?” she said. “The jewels are gone. The druids searched everywhere for them. I told you—there is no hope.”

Cedar stopped pacing and looked down at the woman. “There is
always
hope,” she said, feeling the fire build up inside her again. “What else do you know about the jewels? Do you know who took them? Where they came from? What they look like?”

“I don’t,” Helen said in a small voice. “The druid who was in charge of them at the time was killed. So we have no idea what happened. Only that they are gone and have never been found.”

A slow smile stretched across Cedar’s face as she realized what needed to be done. “We can save them,” she said. “We’ll find the jewels and destroy them.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Helen said, her voice now sharp. “The jewels are gone. How do you possibly think you will find them?”

“By asking someone who can find any magical object—Abhartach the dwarf.”

CHAPTER 9

E
den and Nevan were in the library room at the Hall, which Eden had taken to calling the “school room,” since this was where she had her lessons—sometimes with Nevan, sometimes with Riona. When her dad had first shown this room to her and her mum, both of their jaws had dropped. It was completely circular, and instead of walls it had hundreds of bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes and manuscripts, some of them taller than Eden, some so small they would fit in the palm of her hand.

Eolas, a skinny man with long, thin arms and huge blue eyes that seemed too big for his head, was in charge of the books. He reminded Eden of an insect, although she made sure never to say so. Whenever they wanted a book from the top shelves, he would float to the ceiling as though he weighed nothing at all. Eden looked for wings, but he didn’t seem to have any. If he wasn’t there, a ladder that reached all the way to the ceiling would float across the room, hovering just a few inches off the ground. Eden had wanted to climb it since the first time she set eyes on it, but Eolas had told her it was just for grown-ups. She wasn’t allowed to touch the books, either, not even the ones she could reach, unless one of her teachers said it was okay.

“Guess what?” Eden asked Nevan. “I’m going to meet another kid my age later today.” She told Nevan what her mother had said about Niall. “How come there aren’t more kids around here?” Nevan looked up from the book in front of them. There was only a single table in the room, made from a dark wood in the shape of an X. She and Eden sat beside each other along one of the arms of the X. “Well,” Nevan answered slowly. “It’s partly because of the war. Those who stayed here were afraid that Lorcan would take any children whose powers he desired. But the Tuatha Dé Danann in general have far fewer children than humans; we always have. The birth of a child is a rare and special occasion. But it also means that the children who
are
here don’t have very many playmates.”

“Do they all have special powers? Every one of us?” Eden asked.

“Eventually, yes,” Nevan answered.

“But why do people have different abilities?” Eden asked.

“No one knows for certain,” Nevan said. “Usually a firstborn child has the abilities of both his or her parents, and the other children just inherit one gift. Sometimes a child is born with an ability that neither of his or her parents has. There are patterns, but no hard and fast rules.”

“So if you and Sam had a baby, it would be able to control the water
and
talk inside peoples’ heads?”

“
If
we had a baby, that would be one possibility, yes,” Nevan answered, amused.

“How come some kids get an ability that their parents don’t have?” Eden asked. “What makes them so different?”

“I don’t know,” Nevan answered, shrugging her petite shoulders. “Perhaps it is meant to address an imbalance in our people. If more gardeners or musicians are needed, more children are born with those talents.”

“Yeah, but who decides which kids get which abilities?”

Nevan’s laugh bubbled out of her, and she reached out and ruffled Eden’s hair. “We don’t know how it all works, O inquisitive one. It might just be chance. But if you ask me, I think there are powers out there beyond us that direct the flow of our lives.”

Eden sat and pondered this for a moment. She had thought the Tuatha Dé Danann were the most powerful beings in the universe. To think that there might be something beyond them…

“Shall we turn back to our lesson?” Nevan asked, interrupting Eden’s thoughts. She turned reluctantly back to the book in front of them. They were learning about the Elders, which was interesting, but right now she was much more concerned with how you could get different abilities than the ones your parents had.

“This is Aengus Og,” Nevan said, pointing to a picture in the book. “His greatest feats included—”

“Hey, I’ve seen him before!” Eden exclaimed.

“You have?” Nevan asked. “In another book, you mean?”

“No, in my dreams!”

Nevan shifted in her seat to stare at Eden. Eolas, who had been working at the other end of the table, suddenly went still, and the scratch of his quill was for once silent. “You have dreams about the Elders?”

Eden shrugged. “I didn’t know that was who they were,” she said. “But they’re really nice. Always smiling and laughing. We have a great time together. But they’re just dreams.” She leaned over the book in front of them, suddenly much more interested. “Can I turn the pages?” she asked. “I want to see if the rest of them are in here too.”

Nevan nodded, and Eden started eagerly flipping the pages. “Yeah, she’s in my dreams too!” she said, pointing to a picture of a tall, smiling woman with blonde hair spilling to her ankles. “And this guy!”

Nevan stared at her in shock. “That’s my father,” she said in a small voice.

“Really?” Eden said. “Your dad is an Elder? How come you’re still here, then? I thought all the Elders left. And I’ve never seen
you
in my dreams.”

“My parents were Elders, but I am not,” Nevan said, her voice still barely above a whisper. “I was born here, in Tír na nÓg. Only those who were born in the Four Cities can return.”

“Huh,” Eden said. “That’s too bad. Do you miss them?”

Nevan ignored the question. “When you see the Elders in your dreams, do they speak to you?”

“Sometimes,” Eden said, wrinkling her nose in concentration. “I can’t remember exactly what they say, though. I think it’s mostly just chatting.” Then she noticed Nevan and Eolas exchange a long glance over the table. “It’s okay, right? I mean, I can’t control what I dream about.”

“Of course it’s okay,” Nevan said hastily. “It’s just…interesting. I’ve never heard of anyone dreaming about the Elders before. Even I don’t have that kind of connection with them. I’m not sure what it means.”

Just then the door to the library swung open, and Riona peeked her head in. “Am I interrupting?” she asked.

“Not at all, come on in,” Nevan said with a wave. Her voice sounded casual, but there was a line between her eyebrows that hadn’t been there before.

“Hi, Riona!” Eden said brightly. She had tried calling her Gran, but it didn’t seem to fit, so she had just started calling her Riona like everyone else. No one had seemed to mind. She was glad, because none of the Tuatha Dé Danann seemed to use titles like “Mum” or “Dad” or “Uncle.”

“Did Eden tell you what we have planned for the afternoon?” Riona asked. “I thought we’d head out soon—if she’s finished with her lessons, that is.”

Eden knew they weren’t done, but Nevan nodded and said, “Yes, I think we’ve covered enough for the day.”

“Great!” Eden said, jumping up. “See you tomorrow!” She and Riona walked back out into the bright sunshine. “Did you talk to them? Can we visit?”

“Yes,” Riona said, smiling. “And I’m sure Niall is just as excited as you are.”

Eden felt a nervous thrill run through her. Riona must have noticed, because she said, “I imagine it must be a bit boring to hang out with us adults all the time.”

Eden shrugged. It
was
boring, except for the prospect of her secret lessons with Helen. She’d snuck into Helen’s room this morning for her first lesson, after she knew her parents had left for Earth with Felix and Jane. But nothing exciting had happened; Helen had only asked her more questions about what her older self had said, how often she sensed her presence, what it felt like, and how she used her ability to open and close the sidhe. She took notes in a black notebook, and started drawing strange designs. Eden had tried to hide her disappointment, but Helen had noticed, anyway. She gave Eden another talk about the virtue of patience, and promised that tomorrow they would start some meditation exercises that would help Eden locate and tap into her hidden stores of power.

“Eden? Everything okay?” Riona asked.

“Oh, yeah!” Eden said, snapping out of her daydream. “Hey, is Niall named after the story of Niall and the Nine Hostages?”

Riona beamed. “See, you
have
been learning! Same name, different person, I’m afraid. Now, it’s a bit of a walk; how would you like to go by pony?” Without another word, her grandmother transformed into a brown and white spotted pony. It gave her a nudge with its muzzle, and Eden giggled. But then she stopped. Ponies were for little kids.

“I’d rather ride a horse,” she said. In a moment, Riona stood before her again, her eyebrows raised incredulously.

“Really? Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

“No,” Eden admitted. “But I bet I can. I’ll hold on real tight, I promise.”

Riona didn’t look convinced, but after a moment she said, “Okay…we’ll try a horse, but I want you to grab the mane, and don’t even think about letting go. And we’re going to walk, not gallop, do you hear me? No kicking.” Eden nodded to everything, and in a whirl of movement Riona transformed into a beautiful brown and white mare—though it seemed a bit smaller than a normal horse. The mare sank down on her front legs, and Eden scrambled up onto her back. Another thrill ran through her as the mare got to her feet and started moving forward. Eden imagined herself in a royal procession, and she even let go of the mane to give a wave to her imaginary followers. The mare stopped abruptly, and Eden rolled her eyes before grabbing onto the mane with both hands. She enjoyed the gentle sway of the horse’s back as they meandered through a meadow and along a path lined with blooming cherry trees. When they reached a thickly wooded area, Riona stopped and knelt down, and Eden slid off her back.

“How was that?” Riona asked once she had resumed her normal form.

“It was great!” Eden said. “But we should go faster next time!”

Riona laughed. “We’ll see. Who were you waving to?”

“Oh, no one. I was just pretending. Do you think I really will be queen of Tír na nÓg someday?”

“Maybe. But your mother will probably be queen for a very long time, so I wouldn’t be in a hurry if I were you. You just concentrate on being the best possible princess you can be.” Riona led the way to the edge of the forest, where it looked as if a huge tree had been uprooted. It was lying on the ground, its exposed roots like a giant sea monster’s gaping mouth and outstretched tentacles. Riona tapped one of the branches closest to them, and Eden involuntarily jumped back as the monster’s mouth grew wider—wide enough for them to walk through.

“Are you sure this is where they live?” she asked, taking hold of Riona’s hand.

“Don’t be afraid,” her grandmother answered. “Yes, this is the entrance to their home. A bit different from ours, to be sure.” Still holding hands, they carefully climbed between the roots and into the tree trunk. As soon as they stepped inside, Eden felt a rush of wind, and suddenly she was standing outside a charming cottage covered in leaves and blooming red flowers.

“How did we get
here
?” she exclaimed, looking around for the dead tree.

“Everyone’s home has its own little tricks,” Riona said. She knocked on the front door, which was painted a cheery red that matched the flowers climbing up the sides of the cottage. The door was flung open from the inside, and a woman with a shock of curly red hair grabbed Riona in a tight hug.

“Riona! At last! I’ve been anxious to see you ever since you returned, but I know you’ve been ever so busy. But now here you are at last, and you’ve brought the girl, just as you said.”

Riona disentangled herself and made the introductions. “Atty, this is Eden, my granddaughter. Eden, this is Atty.” She looked into the house. “Is Niall here?”

“Yes, yes, he’s just in the back. I’ll call him over.” Atty tilted her head back and hollered, “Niall!” There was no answer, so Atty grabbed Eden’s hand and led her around the side of the house. “See those trees back there? He’s just in there. He knows you’re coming, so he’ll be expecting you. If you need anything, just holler. We’ll be inside having a long overdue cup of tea.”

Eden started walking hesitantly toward the trees. She felt suddenly shy, and had to fight the impulse to run back to Riona’s side.
Don’t be silly
, she told herself.
You can go anywhere, anytime, remember?
She stepped under the cover of the trees and was looking around for the boy when a storm of small nuts rained down on her. She covered her head with her arms and squealed. When the nuts stopped falling, she looked up. There, several branches above the ground, was a boy with the same mop of red hair as his mother’s. He was laughing down at her.

“Hey! That’s not nice!” she yelled, balling her hands into fists.

The boy jumped and landed softly in front of her, as if he had just stepped off a low stool and not a branch twenty feet in the air. “Nice to meet you too,” he said, and then took off running into the forest.

Eden stared after him for a split second; then she was in fast pursuit. But there was no catching up to him—he was only a blur through the trees, and then she couldn’t see him at all. After a few minutes she stopped, panting for breath, and sat down on a nearby stump. She was about to head back to the cottage to ask Riona if they could go home, when she heard the sudden rustling of leaves. He was heading straight toward her, and she didn’t see how he could possibly stop before slamming into her. She squealed and covered her head, but when she peeked between her arms, he was standing in front of her, motionless. And still laughing.

“I bet you think you’re pretty fast,” Eden said with a scowl.

“I
am
fast,” the boy said. “When I’m fully grown, I’ll be the fastest of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Want to race again?”

“No,” Eden said. “I don’t like racing.”

“That’s because you always lose,” he said.

“Why are you so mean? I don’t even know you.”

“I’m not mean,” he said, and he looked genuinely puzzled. “I’ve just never met a human before.”

“I’m not human!” Eden said, standing up and stamping her foot. She stretched herself up as tall as possible and glared up at him. “Why did you say that?”

“Well, you were born on Ériu and raised by humans,” he said. “That makes you pretty much a human.”