Into the Fire (21 page)

“Who took you? The druids?” Cedar asked.

“Indeed,” Logheryman said. “Fortunately, keeping me is not as easy as taking me. Escape is my specialty, you might say.”

“What did they want with you?” Felix asked, moving closer to look at the bruising on Logheryman’s cheek. The leprechaun brushed him away with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing I can’t look after,” he said. “They wanted information about a roving band of Dananns. They seemed quite… motivated.”

“How much did they offer you?” Felix said, a faint look of disgust on his face.

“Well, that’s between them and me, now, isn’t it?” Logheryman said. “Oh, don’t worry, child, I’m not going to turn you over for a mere thirty pieces of silver. And I doubt I could detain you even if I had a mind to.”

Felix raised his eyebrows. “Detain us? I’d like to see you try,” he said.

“Oh, spare me the testosterone, Toirdhealbhach. I see you’ve regained your usual form. I suppose the ladies prefer it.” Logheryman looked with interest at Jane. “It’s not every day that I find a bald and naked woman wrapped in one of my robes. Who might you be, my dear?”

“This is Jane,” Cedar answered, stepping in front of her friend. “She’s a friend of ours. And this is Liam. He’s also a friend—and a druid.”

Logheryman’s expression darkened instantly. “Have you lost control of your senses?”

Finn, who had been silent up until now, stepped forward. “He’s not with them,” he protested. “He’s been helping us.” Cedar wondered if this defense of Liam was his way of making up for leaving her behind, or if he was actually starting to trust the druid.

“Helping you?” Logheryman sneered. “Why, pray tell, would a druid want to help the Tuatha Dé Danann? Perhaps
he
is the one who has lost control of his senses.”

Liam bristled visibly. “I can assure you, I have nothing to do with your assailants. Cedar called me because they needed help.”

“And what kind of help do you provide, exactly? Did she need someone kidnapped and threatened? It seems to be your kind’s area of specialty.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Cedar snapped. “He’s with us, and that’s it. We came here for help. Eden and Jane are better, but now we need information.”

“What you need, my dear, is to remove your little band of troublemakers from my house. I did not sign up to become involved in a dispute between the Danann and the druids.”

Cedar looked at him incredulously. “That’s it? We come to you for help and you’re just throwing us out without even listening? You have no idea what’s at stake.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s something cataclysmic,” he said in a bored tone. “I appreciate that you think so highly of me, but I’m sure that whatever the current crisis is, you can handle it on your own.” He walked over to the door and held it open.

No one made any move to leave. Cedar continued to glare at Logheryman, then crossed the room and slammed the door closed.

“You think that pretending to be neutral is going to help you?” she said, swiveling so that they were face-to-face. “They already know that you’ve helped us in the past. And they’ll find out that we were here and that you let us go. Does that sound very neutral to you?”

Logheryman looked down his nose at her. “Would you rather I
not
let you go?” he asked.

“I’d
rather
you do the right thing and help us!” she said, taking a step back. “I don’t know what lies they told you, but they are working for someone who wants to destroy the world and everyone in it.”

Logheryman rolled his eyes. “Unlike you, my dear, I’ve known the Tuatha Dé Danann for more than five minutes. They tend to be, mmm, melodramatic, shall we say? I’m sure that whatever merry chase they’ve led you on this time, it’s not as bad as you think.”

Cedar gaped at him. “Are you serious?” She pulled Jane forward. “They tried to burn my best friend alive—and would have succeeded if it hadn’t been for Felix. And they trapped Eden in a nightmare in her own mind—and it was Liam who helped bring her out. They’re serious. If Nuala succeeds, she’ll create a war on Earth that will wipe out everyone. That isn’t melodrama. And you can’t just go back to your normal life and pretend that nothing is happening.”

She took a deep breath. “Listen, I know you don’t want to get involved. I get that. But it’s too late now. If we don’t find what we’re looking for, everyone on Earth will die. You’re
already
involved. Help us stop her.”

Logheryman considered her for a long moment, then sighed. “I might be able to offer you some assistance, but there is the matter of payment, of course…,” he began.

“Damn the payment!” Cedar said. “Have you never in your life done something just because it’s the right thing to do? Help us, and you’ll save millions of lives. Refuse to help us, and all the gold in the world won’t save you.”

There was another long pause. “And what exactly are you looking for?” he asked.

“The Lia Fáil,” she replied. “The Stone of Destiny. It’s been lost for centuries. We have less than a week. Once we find it, it will prove that I’m the rightful queen of Tír na nÓg, not Nuala. Then she won’t be able to move forward with her plan.”

Logheryman raised his gray eyebrows. “
You
will be queen? Are you sure your motives here are entirely pure?”

Cedar silenced him with a glance. “I don’t
want
to be queen, but it’s the only way. Do you know anything about the Lia Fáil or not?”

Logheryman pursed his lips as he looked around at each of them in the room. Cedar held her breath. Finally, he spoke. “I don’t. But I know someone who might, and at any rate it’s best for us not to stay here. Follow me, if you will.”

He turned and walked through the kitchen and out the back door. After a moment’s hesitation, Cedar grabbed Eden’s hand and followed him. The others filed behind her. She heard Felix whisper to Finn and Liam, “Stay sharp. I’ve never known Logheryman to do anything just because it was the right thing to do.”

The leprechaun led them past the clearing where Finn had landed as a dragon and onto a narrow path that headed into the woods.

“Where are we going?” Cedar asked. She glanced behind her to see how Jane was faring. She was walking at the back of the group, still clutching the robe around her and stumbling along in a pair of Logheryman’s thin slippers. Liam had his arm around her shoulders and was helping her along.

“I am not entirely solitary,” Logheryman replied. “We are going to the house of a friend. It’s not far.”

After a few minutes they emerged from the woods into a clearing, in the center of which stood a small, whitewashed cottage. It was about the same size as Logheryman’s house, but much more well kept. Bright flowers spilled from painted window boxes, and
Cedar could see a neat, orderly garden on the side of the house. It was midmorning, and an elderly woman with long white hair that fell to her waist was crouched among the pole beans, a pile of weeds beside her.

“Maggie,” Logheryman said as they approached. The woman raised her head but didn’t turn around as she fussed with the ties on one of the poles.

“You’ve made some friends, Martin,” she said. Cedar raised her eyebrows.
Martin?

Maggie stood up and brushed the dirt off her knees. She turned around and took in the group standing behind Logheryman. “Well,” she said, “I’d better put the kettle on.” They followed her through the front door and into a cozy sitting room. “Have a seat, have a seat,” she said. “Tea first, then introductions.” She disappeared into the kitchen, and Cedar could hear the rattle of cups and saucers being pulled out of the cupboard.

“Who is she?” Finn asked Logheryman. Eden was sitting on her father’s lap in a faded armchair draped with a hand-knit afghan. Felix stood by the door, and Liam and Jane had taken seats beside Logheryman on the sofa near the fireplace. Cedar paced the floor, her eyes fixed on Logheryman.

“Maggie O’Daly. An old friend,” he said. “I’ve known Maggie since she was a wee girl. She’s one of the few people left who believe in the old ways. You can trust her.”

“You think she can help us?” Cedar asked.

“If it’s knowledge you’re after, then yes,” he said. “She’s a file.”

Cedar saw Finn, Felix, and Liam make signs of acknowledgment, but she had no idea what a file was. “What’s that?” she asked.

“They call us seanachai these days,” Maggie said, coming back into the room with a tray laden with cups and saucers and a large pot of steaming tea. “Storytellers, bards, that sort of thing. But the
fili used to be the most important role in Irish society. This was centuries ago, of course. We were the lawmakers, philosophers, poets, historians, and sorcerers all rolled into one. After a time, the roles were split up: The brehons became the judges and lawmakers, the druids became the priests and magicians, and the fili became the poets and storytellers—which was the same things as being a historian in those days. There are still some of us kicking about, though precious few, I’m sure. My grandfather was one. In fact, the O’Dalys were fili to the High Kings of Ireland even before Saint Patrick arrived, and long before that, I’d wager.”

Logheryman brought out more chairs from the kitchen, and Cedar sat down beside Finn and Eden and accepted a cup of tea from Maggie. She sighed audibly as the hot liquid ran down her throat and gratefully took a cookie from the plate that was being passed around. She watched Eden wolf hers down and felt a pang of guilt. Logheryman’s cupboards had been bare; all Eden had eaten for breakfast was a packet of chips.

Cedar gazed at Maggie, who was sipping her tea and seemingly unperturbed by the group of strangers in her living room. The old woman looked kindly at Jane. “What happened to your clothes, dear?” she asked.

“Um… they got burned,” Jane said, blushing and pulling the robe more tightly around her. “There was a fire.”

Maggie pursed her lips and looked disapprovingly at Logheryman. “Getting into mischief again, Martin?”

“You flatter me, but I’m afraid I can’t take credit for this one,” he answered with a smirk. “My, er, friends seem to have landed themselves in a fair amount of trouble all on their own. Also, I fear I must trespass on your hospitality for a while, dear Maggie. My home has been compromised for the time being.”

“Again?” Maggie said, her eyebrows raised, and Cedar wondered how often Logheryman found himself at odds with the world.

“It will all blow over soon, I’m sure,” he said, “And I’ll admit that I had another motivation for this visit. I’m afraid I can’t go into details, but do your vast stores of knowledge include anything about the Lia Fáil? My companions here are very interested in its whereabouts, and I am sadly unable to help them in that regard. They shan’t be here for long; once they have their information, they’ll be on their way.”

“The Lia Fáil? Aye, now there’s an interesting subject.” She nodded slowly. “There are many stories about the Stone of Destiny.”

“We know about Murtagh mac Erc loaning it to his brother,” Cedar blurted out. “But the Stone of Scone at Edinburgh Castle is a fake. It was taken from Scone by the English, but we don’t know where it is now.”

Finn shot her an exasperated look, but Cedar didn’t care. They didn’t have time to beat around the bush.

“So it’s not just stories you want, then,” Maggie said, eyeing Cedar keenly. “You want the truth. Well, there is truth to be found in stories, that’s for certain.”

“Not all stories are true,” Eden piped up from her father’s lap.

“They’re always true about something, little one,” Maggie said, passing Eden another cookie. “If not about what actually happened, then maybe about the person telling the story—or about the person hearing it. I’ve been telling stories for more than seventy years, and listening to them for even longer, and I call tell you there is always some truth to be found. And it is truth you are after, am I right?”

Cedar nodded.

“Then I have a story for you. Do with it what you will.”

Maggie cleared her throat and then began. “Many years ago there was young man named Donald O’Brien, living just outside a
wee village near the banks of the River Boyne. He had a kind heart and handsome face. Everyone who knew him spoke well of him, for he was a hard worker, and yet he always took the time for a friendly chat or to offer a helping hand. Even the wild beasts took a shine to him, for it was he who would take food from his own plate to feed a stray cat, and he never forgot to leave seed outside for the birds and wee creatures of the forest during the long winter months. As a child, he used to play with the daughter of the man who tended sheep just over the hill. She was called Utain, and she was a homely little thing, all elbows and knees and wispy brown hair. She used to cut her hair short to try to make it grow fuller, which made her look more like a scarecrow than a young maiden. But she was a sweet girl, and she and Donald were fast friends, even as they grew and approached adulthood. Then one day Utain went missing on her way into the village. Donald looked everywhere for her, as did half the village, for her family was well loved. But she was nowhere to be found. Her family grieved for her, but many girls in the village were secretly glad she had disappeared because of her close friendship with Donald.