Into the Fire (2 page)

He stood and brushed a few specks of dirt and grass off his knees. His eyes were wells of enormous sadness when he answered, “I’m no one of importance.” He started to walk away but then stopped. “I would stop trying to get in there if I were you,” he said, indicating the workshop with a nod of his head. “It won’t open for you, or anyone for that matter. I know the spells she used, and they’ll only get nastier the harder you fight them. It is impossible for a human to get inside. And if you somehow managed it by magic, you would likely find yourself unable to get out. Just leave it be.”

“What do you mean? How do you know all of this?” Cedar demanded. Her mind was racing. If this man knew about Maeve, then maybe he also knew about Eden, and she didn’t like strangers
knowing her daughter’s secret. She had to find out who he was and what he wanted.

He ignored her questions and turned his back on her, starting to walk toward the road. She ran after him and they almost collided when he abruptly stopped and turned around. She grabbed one of his arms to balance herself and didn’t let go. “Who are you?” she said again, tightening her grip.

He stared into her face for a long moment, as though trying to memorize it. His voice caught when he tried to speak. “Someone who cares,” he said. “Don’t go back there, Cedar.”

“Where?” she demanded.

“You think it’s a place of safety, but it’s not. There is nothing but pain for you in Tír na nÓg.” Then he wrenched his arm out of her grasp and walked briskly down the gravel driveway and around the corner.

“Wait!” she yelled, and ran after him. But when she reached the end of the driveway there was no sign of him, nor of any vehicle. There was only a small cloud of dust rising up from the dirt road and into the breezeless night.

When Cedar opened the door to her apartment, she was met by a flurry of activity. Eden, who had been sitting on the sofa reading
The Hobbit
, squealed, “Mummy!” and ran toward her. Finn and Jane were up to their elbows in boxes, setting out lamps, picture frames, and
Star Wars
figurines on Cedar’s bare bookshelves and end tables. Most of Cedar’s belongings had gone into a storage unit, except for her deluxe espresso maker and a few pieces of furniture. Jane was dancing to the sound of Milo Greene on the stereo, but she stopped mid-groove when she saw Cedar.

“Hey, look who’s back!” Jane said, a wide grin on her face. Her hair was completely shaved on one side of her head, and the other
side hung down over her eyes, which were lined with turquoise today. Bright red streaks stood out from the black hair around them. A series of small skulls adorned her ears and hung like gruesome trophies from a bangle on her wrist. Cedar started to say hello, but then Eden barreled into her and she winced, her body still tender from her collision with the gravel driveway.

“Hey, there, Honey Lime,” Finn said, coming in for his own hug as Eden returned to her book on the sofa. “Honey Lime” was his new favorite nickname for her, out of several that he’d tried on for size. He said it was the color of her eyes when she was happy. Jane said it sounded more like a margarita and pretended to gag whenever he used it around her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, running his hands gently along her sides where Eden had squeezed her. Cedar nodded and laughed. She couldn’t get a paper cut without Finn noticing. Ever since her miraculous return to life he had barely left her side, or Eden’s. He had wanted to accompany her to Maeve’s house this weekend, but Cedar had been worried about bringing Eden there. On the surface, Eden seemed to be coping fine with what had happened, but Cedar had heard her crying out for Gran in her sleep. Taking her back to the place where Maeve had been killed and buried might be too much right now. So she’d convinced Finn to have a daddy-daughter weekend in Halifax, and he had reluctantly agreed. Cedar was tempted to keep what had happened at Maeve’s a secret, to avoid encouraging Finn’s overprotective tendencies. But the temptation was fleeting. They had promised each other that there would be no more secrets.

“Something strange happened, actually,” she said. She told Finn and Jane about her encounter with Maeve’s workshop and about the strange man who had come to pay his respects.

“Super weird,” Jane said.

“He didn’t say anything else?” Finn asked. He looked troubled.

Cedar shook her head. “No, he just told me to stop trying to get into the workshop and that we shouldn’t go back to Tír na
nÓg. I thought you might know who he was. Is he one of the Tuatha Dé Danann?”

“I don’t think so,” Finn said. “I don’t know anyone called Liam, though that might not be his real name. But if he knew our plans to return to Tír na nÓg, one of the others might know him. I’ll ask around. I, for one, want to know who he is and how he knows so much about us.”

“Why do you think he’d warn you against going to Tír na nÓg?” Jane asked. “Not that I disagree with him,” she added, arching an eyebrow. “I think Tír na nÓg is
far
too dangerous for you. The three of you should just stay here with me.”

Cedar grinned. “Wait a second, did you pay this guy to scare me off?”

“It’s not funny,” Finn said, frowning. “Without knowing who he is, it’s hard to know how seriously we should take him. But my guess is that he’s a druid. I didn’t think Maeve was in touch with other druids, but maybe she kept that a secret too. If he
is
a druid, his warning shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

Cedar glanced over at Eden, who appeared to be reading but was more likely hanging on their every word. “Hey, Eden, do you want to watch a quick show before bed?”

Eden looked over the cover of her book and said, “I’d rather know what you guys are talking about.”

“Nothing. Boring, grown-up stuff,” Cedar answered, rifling through a stack of DVDs and putting in
Secret of the Wings
, Eden’s new favorite. Eden’s fascination with fairies had grown exponentially since she had discovered that she technically was one, although she considered her lack of wings to be a tragic oversight. Cedar had tried to explain the difference between the Tuatha Dé Danann and the pixie-like fairies of cartoons and toys, and Eden had seemed to understand. But every once in a while Cedar found her daughter staring wistfully at her Tinker Bell doll or racing around her room wearing the wings from last year’s Halloween
costume and jumping off her bed in the hopes that she’d suddenly be able to fly.
Tír na nÓg will be good for her,
Cedar thought.
And it will be good for me too.
Both of them had a lot to learn about the world they belonged to by birthright, if nothing else. And Tír na nÓg would be safer.… If they stayed here, it would be impossible to keep Eden’s ability hidden from friends, teachers, babysitters, and other parents, who wouldn’t be able to ignore the sudden appearance of a portal to wherever Eden happened to be daydreaming about at the moment.

Eden begrudgingly settled onto the sofa, and Cedar led Jane and Finn to the kitchen.

Jane poured them each a glass of wine and raised her own glass after serving her friends. “To my best friend, Cedar; her long-lost lover, Finn; and their magic baby, Eden, who are abandoning me to this mundane world and going off to assume their true identities as fairies in the not-so-mythical-after-all land of Tír na nÓg. Wow. It sounds so strange when you say it out loud. But here’s to living in crazy times. And now for my only word of Irish: Sláinte!”

Finn clinked glasses with them but was still frowning. Cedar poked him in the ribs. “Come on, you’re not really worried, are you? How could a random druid possibly know what awaits us in Tír na nÓg? It’s like listening to a fortune teller.” Now that she was drinking wine in her brightly lit kitchen in the company of friends, the man’s warning seemed insignificant, comical almost.

“How many druids are there, anyway?” Jane said. “I thought Maeve was the only one.”

“No,” Finn answered. “There are many, or at least there used to be. Their numbers have certainly diminished since the exile.”

“Exile?” Cedar asked. Every day, she was learning new information, stories, legends, and facts about her people. She knew it would take years to get up to speed.

“Like Maeve, druids are… complicated,” he said, measuring his words carefully. “Their magic is very powerful, and they used
to hold a very important position in our society. They were the teachers, philosophers, historians, and judges. And they used to live and work very closely with us. Not only with us, of course; there were many druids who served the kings and chieftains of this world as well.”

“You said they ‘used to’ live and work closely with you—not anymore?” Cedar asked.

“Sadly, no. The story goes that many years ago, when the druids still lived in Tír na nÓg, a druid stole away the lover of one of the Tuatha Dé Danann nobles. This flew in the face of convention; you see, druids were not considered our equals. It would be like the Queen of England running off with one of her servants. The noble was heartbroken and furious, and the High King at that time owed him a favor. So at the noble’s bequest, the king banished all druids from Tír na nÓg. It was a very harsh punishment for the fault of one man, especially considering the centuries of service they had given us.”

“Have they ever gone back?” Cedar asked.

“No. We have paid for the king’s rash decision. The druids had grown proud, and they felt that their exile was an insult too great to bear. They swore never to return unless they were given equal status with the Tuatha Dé Danann, including the right to assume the High Kingship. Of course, because my people are even prouder, we have refused, even though it would greatly benefit our land and society if they were to return.”

Secretly, Cedar could understand why the druids felt the way they did. It hadn’t escaped her notice that the Tuatha Dé Danann did not play well with others, be they humans, Merrow, leprechauns, or druids. Perhaps she could help change that, she thought. But out loud she asked, “So if Liam’s a druid, why would he have warned me to not go back?”

“I don’t know, but it worries me. As I said, druids have no great love for our kind. Maybe he knows how important you and Eden
are to the rebuilding of Tír na nÓg, and he was trying to frighten you into staying here. But how would he
know
that unless one of us told him? On the other hand, it sounds like he really cared for Maeve. Maybe he was trying to protect you for her sake. Many druids
do
have the gift of foresight. But if that’s the case, I don’t understand why he didn’t give you more information.”

“I don’t get it either,” Cedar said. “He just walked around the corner and disappeared. But honestly, I think we still need to go. The longer we stay here, the greater the chance that Eden will slip up and open a sidh, and I can’t keep her cooped up in this apartment forever. Let’s just be extra careful while we’re there. If something happens, we can always come back. Lorcan’s dead. Nuala is still around, but she can’t hide forever, and we’re more likely to find her if we’re there.”

“Are you sure?” Jane asked. “Maybe you should just lie low for a while and let them sort things out over there in Tír na nÓg. You could come to the comic con in Vegas with me instead!” She was leaving in a few days, and had been talking about the trip for weeks.

Jane’s face was so imploring that Cedar had to laugh. “Oh, my dear,” she said, “I would love to go to Vegas with you, but the longer I put this off, the harder it will be. No, we’re leaving in the morning, vague warnings be damned. I want to get us all settled in and started on our new life. So you go to Vegas and have a blast, and if everything goes well, maybe I’ll come back for a visit in a couple of weeks.”

“You better, or I might just slip up and forget your alibi,” Jane said with a wink. Cedar glared at her. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m just kidding. I remember the whole story: You got back together with Eden’s dad and are moving to Australia so you can be together. You got a great job, are very happy, blah blah blah. And I’m subletting your apartment until you decide to sell it, whenever that might be. Thanks, again, by the way. This place is way nicer than my dingy hole in the wall.”

“No worries,” Cedar said. “Hey, maybe we can fix you up with one of the Tuatha Dé Danann.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Puhleeze. I can barely handle human guys, let alone a fairy-god-man. Besides, they’re all… you know, gorgeous and shit.”

Cedar laughed. “And so are you, my friend. In your own funky way.”

CHAPTER 2

C
edar woke up alone in her bed to the sound of breakfast being prepared in the kitchen. She heard Eden’s excited chattering and smiled. Finn must be telling her stories again.

Finn had immediately bonded with their daughter, and his presence had gone a long way toward helping Eden feel safe. She never spoke of her kidnapping unless prompted, and even then she tended to only answer direct questions. Cedar didn’t want to push her for more information than she was ready to share, so she focused on showering her with love instead.

Together, Eden and Cedar loved to pepper Finn with questions about their “real” world. He seemed to enjoy answering as much as they enjoyed asking; the stories he told them about the Tuatha Dé Danann sounded like fairy tales, but he swore they were all true. Cedar’s desire to know more about the world of her birth parents grew stronger each day, and although her first priority was to take Eden somewhere safe, it wasn’t the only reason she was looking forward to going to Tír na nÓg. She wanted to help transform her homeland from the dry and barren place she had seen back into the paradise it had once been. She didn’t know what to expect when they returned. Would the land have rejuvenated itself in the weeks since Lorcan’s death? Or was there more work to be done? There was only one way to find out.