Into the Fire (9 page)

She found them sitting by what had once been a lively stream. Now it was little more than a muddy ditch, but a trickle of water was still forcing its way through, as though refusing to completely give up the ghost. Finn and Eden were sitting on the bank throwing rocks, which landed with a soft
splat
at the bottom.

“Hey,” she said softly, and they both turned around.

“Mummy,” Eden said, holding out her arms and starting to cry again.

“I calmed her down,” Finn said. “But she wanted you. Where were you?”

Cedar gathered Eden onto her lap and held her close. “I did it,” she said. “I made my claim for the throne.” Finn watched her intently but said nothing. “When Eden started screaming, something inside me just… snapped,” she continued. “I realized that we need to stop Nuala no matter what it takes. I can’t just sit back and hope that someone else will do it.” She kissed the top of Eden’s head. “I’m so sorry you were scared, baby.”

“I want to go home,” Eden said, sniffing.

“I know,” Cedar said. “Sometimes I want that too. But we have an important job here, and we can’t run away, even if we really want to.”

“What job?” Eden asked.

“Well… you saw that Nuala’s here. And she’s kind of like a big bully. She wants to hurt other people, and we need to tell her and everyone else that it’s not okay for her to do that. If we don’t stand up to her, she’ll be able to do whatever she wants. I know you’re scared, but Mummy and Daddy are right here, and we won’t let anything happen to you. This world needs us—all three of us. Some of the people here don’t like humans or even fairies who’ve spent a lot of time with humans. So we have to show them that humans are really great people and we should be friends with them. Can you be brave with Mummy and Daddy?”

Eden nodded. “I think so,” she said.

Finn leaned over and kissed them both. “I’m proud of you,” he said to Cedar. Then he looked down at Eden with a twinkle in his eye. “How would you like to go for a pony ride?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Eden said, scrambling to her feet. “But where will we find a pony?”

“Oh, I don’t think we’ll have to look very far,” he said, and then, with a swirl of sparks, he transformed into a child-sized pony that was pink from head to hoof. Cedar laughed as Eden ran over to the pony and hugged it. She helped lift her up onto her father’s back and watched as the two of them trotted away down the riverbank.

“Well, that was touching,” came a voice from behind her. Cedar swiveled around to see Nuala standing just a few feet away, leaning against a slim tree, her arms crossed and a bored expression on her face. “The thing I like about you, Cedar, is that you can never hear me coming.”

“What are you doing here?” Cedar asked, her eyes narrowed.

“I realized that I haven’t welcomed you to your new home yet,” Nuala said. “You seem to have settled in nicely. Lovely pep talk you gave the little one. I suppose I should thank you for calling me a bully instead of a kidnapper and murderer.”

“That’s because she already knows that’s what you are,” Cedar said through gritted teeth.

Nuala ignored this. “I also came to tell you that you’re in way over your head. I’ve been planning this for a very long time. You don’t think I wasted all those years on Ériu, do you? Not like everyone else. Except for Finn, I suppose, who was off doing who-knows-what to try and mend his poor broken heart.” She pouted, and Cedar wanted to strangle her.

“No,
you
don’t know what you’re up against,” Cedar said. “You think you can just bat your eyelashes and get whatever you want, but there are a lot of us who know the real story, and we’re going to stop you.
You
should be the one who’s afraid.”

Nuala rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, I’m terrified,” she said. She straightened up and started advancing on Cedar, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “You can’t stop me, Cedar. It’s foolish of you to even try. You’re only going to get hurt—you and the people you love—again. This is your last warning. Go and—”

“Get away from her!”

Cedar’s mind suddenly cleared of the fog that had begun to descend on her. Eden was running straight at Nuala, her little hands balled into fists. “You leave my mum alone!” she screamed, flailing at Nuala. “Go away! Go!”

Finn was behind her, one foot still a pink hoof, his face pale.

The expression on Nuala’s face was unreadable. Her eyes were wide wells of green and her mouth was slightly parted. For a second, Cedar could have sworn that she saw a flicker of sadness pass over the other woman’s features. Then Nuala took a step back and said calmly, “Hello, Eden.” She looked up at Cedar again. “Remember,” she said. “That was your last warning.” She turned and ran.

Cedar shook her head to clear the last of the cobwebs and looked at her daughter in amazement. Eden’s fists were still clenched, and she was breathing heavily. “Was that brave, Mummy?” she asked.

Cedar dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around Eden. “Yes, baby,” she whispered. “That was very brave.”

It was early evening when the Council sent for her. Riona found Cedar in Eden’s room, where she and Finn were listening as their daughter attempted to play a long, delicate wind instrument she had discovered on her music branch.

“Cedar,” Riona said softly. “There’s a messenger here from the Council.”

Cedar stood up quickly, her heart pounding. “Have they decided?”

“I don’t know,” Riona said. “He just said that they need to see you. Only you,” she added with a glance at Finn, who had also gotten to his feet.

Cedar turned back to Finn and took his hands in hers. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “You stay here with Eden.” Then she kissed Eden and said, “Mummy’s got to go to a meeting now, but I’ll be back to tuck you in.”

She said good-bye to Riona at the door and greeted the messenger politely. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” she asked as she followed him to the Hall.

“No,” he said, “I’m just supposed to bring you to them.” He was young, and she was reminded with a pang of Oscar, who had shown her the hidden entrance to the Fox and Fey on the night Eden was taken by Nuala. They walked the rest of the way in silence, but she could feel the boy’s eyes on her. She tried to calm her
breathing and slowed her pace by a fraction. She wanted to appear before them as a potential queen, not as a sweaty, nervous mess.

When they reached the center court of the Hall, the messenger bowed and indicated that she should go in alone. She walked forward slowly and deliberately. This time, only the eight Council members were in the room. There was no audience, not even servants. Gorman was smiling at her, but she noticed he was twisting his hands in his lap. Deaglán was also smiling, though not in a way Cedar found reassuring. Sorcha looked bored and didn’t acknowledge Cedar’s presence in any way. The swarthy man with the big beard gave Cedar a stony glare, his arms crossed in front of him. Then there were two others in the Council who had remained completely silent during the meeting that morning. Cedar looked at them curiously, wondering where they stood. One was a short, pixie-like woman with hair the color of ivy that was done up in braids and wrapped around her head. She reminded Cedar of Nevan. The other was a man who could have been her brother, thin and lithe, with long fine hair so blond it was almost white. They returned Cedar’s curious glances with looks of their own, and then the man with the white hair stood up.

“Greetings, Cedar,” he said. “We thank you for answering our summons.” Cedar said nothing but nodded and waited. “I fear you have not been properly introduced to the members of the Council since your arrival in Tír na nÓg. I am Amras,” he said, then rattled off the names of the other seven members of the Council. “Ruadhan has withdrawn his claim and has given you his unconditional support. And the Council has decided that Conchobhar is not the right person to lead us at this particular time. So that leaves us with Fionnghuala… and you.”

Cedar tried to keep her expression neutral, while inside, her stomach was clenched and her heart raced. She willed herself to stand perfectly still and wait for their decision.

“You are aware that some have reservations about the fact that you were raised as a human and have had the, er, ‘gift’ of humanity bestowed upon you,” Amras continued. “But there is also the matter of your parentage, which is unquestioned. There are many who believe someone with Brogan’s and Kier’s blood in her veins is not to be taken lightly. Your claim has a great deal of support among the people, who regard you as a hero. In destroying Lorcan you have proven yourself both brave and selfless, which are noble qualities in a leader of the Tuatha Dé Danann.”

Cedar could feel the knot in her stomach lessening. Maybe they were going to choose her after all.

“However,” he said, and then paused. She held her breath. “By your own admission, you know little of our people and our customs. And we know little of you. It is a difficult choice indeed. Two divergent paths have been laid out before us, and it saddens me to say that we have never been so divided as a Council, nor has the correct path ever seemed so unclear. Fionnghuala offers much. The return of the druids and the promise of Ériu are no small things. What do
you
offer your people, Cedar?”

“Peace,” Cedar answered immediately. “Dignity. Freedom from tyranny—because tyranny is what you’re going to get if you choose her. As I recall, that didn’t work out so well for you last time.”

“Words,” said Deaglán with a disdainful snort. “You offer nothing but words.”

“She offers
hope,
” Gorman retorted.

Amras raised his hands to quiet them both. “Your claim is strong,” he said to Cedar. “But you are untested, and it is uncertain how your rule would benefit our people. We have come to a decision, but it is an unorthodox one.” Cedar held her breath, waiting for him to continue. “We have a task for you, Cedar,” he said. “Complete it, and you will prove yourself worthy of our throne,
just as your father did many times over. Fail, and we will choose Fionnghuala as our queen.”

Cedar was stunned, but she recovered quickly. This was completely unexpected. A task to prove herself worthy? She struggled against the voice in her head that automatically shouted,
You’re only a human!

No,
she told herself, remembering Finn’s words from the previous night.
I have a strength they do not yet see
.

“And what is this task?” she asked, surprised by how calm she sounded.

Amras sat down and nodded at the pixie-like woman next to him. “I am Maran,” she reminded Cedar gently as she stood. “Are you familiar with the Lia Fáil?”

The Lia Fáil.
Cedar knew she had heard those words before. She frowned, struggling to remember. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sorcha smirking. Suddenly, the memory rushed back. Yesterday—had it only been yesterday?—Eden had mentioned it at breakfast, back in their apartment on Earth. “It’s a stone,” she replied. “One of the four treasures brought from the Four Cities. It’s called the Stone of Destiny, and it… roars,” she finished lamely, hoping she wasn’t making a complete idiot of herself.

The pixie woman nodded. “It does,” she said. “And do you know why it roars?”

“No,” Cedar admitted.

“It roars when a true king or queen stands on it. It was once used as our coronation stone, and then, during the time of friendship between our peoples, we loaned it to the kings of Ireland for use in their coronations. Over the centuries it fell out of use and would roar no more. We do not know the reason—whether there were no worthy leaders left or the magic of the stone wore out. It has since been lost to history and myth. Your task is this: Find the Lia Fáil and bring it back to us. We have the other three
treasures—the cauldron, the spear, and the sword. To have the lost Stone of Destiny would be a great gift.”

Cedar’s mind was racing. “How will I know it’s the right stone?” she asked.

“As every child could tell you, the Lia Fáil grows warm at the touch of one of the Tuatha Dé Danann,” Sorcha said. “But it should be obvious, shouldn’t it? If you are truly destined for the throne, the Lia Fáil will let us know.”

“Unless the magic has ended,” Cedar pointed out.