Through the Door (34 page)

She turned her attention back to the cat-and-mouse game between Finn and Lorcan. She could feel a wall of heat radiating from Lorcan. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a huge ball of fire shoot from his hands and into the assembly. He roared with rage and screamed, “Bring him to me!” Cedar realized that Finn must be taking his true form for only long enough to speak. She heard the movement of those gathered below, but no one brought Finn forward. Then she saw him briefly, landing as a tiny bird on the uppermost limb of one of the white birch trees encircling the courtyard. He flew down to a lower branch and transformed back into himself. “None
of us are blameless, and yet you allow Lorcan, who has shed the blood of countless of our race, to rule you. You know he is not worthy of that task!”

Cedar could not see what shape he took next, but he disappeared just in time to avoid Lorcan’s sword, which sliced through the tree as if it were made of silk and then returned at once to its enraged owner.

She heard Finn’s voice again, and saw heads in the crowd swivel to search for him. “This child holds the gift of the sidh, and if you allow Lorcan to kill her, his power will be so great it will destroy us all! Now rise up with me!”

Then she could not help but see him, for he was once again the horrifying creature that had terrified her on the Irish beach. He rose from behind the farthest of the marble arches and started advancing toward the throne, a mass of tentacles and fangs and talons. The Danann all backed away from him, and Cedar heard several of them cry out in alarm. Lorcan had dropped his sword and was standing with his feet spread apart and his hands in the air. It was an odd posture, as if he meant to embrace the creature once it drew near. Cedar did not know what it meant, but it filled her with dread, and she knew she had lingered too long.

Finn came at Lorcan, intent on annihilation, and it seemed as though the usurper was going to do nothing to defend himself. The Finn-monster struck him, or seemed to strike him, but from Cedar’s vantage point she could tell that he had only struck the air in front of his target. Then the huge scaled and winged body seemed to puncture and deflate, and Finn lay in his Danann form on the dais.

Cedar screamed. She stared at Finn, who was lying motionless on the ground, his skin mottled with dark purple bruises. She struggled to her feet.
Now.
She had to act now.

Lorcan was ignoring her and had turned his attention back to his subjects. They had started to swell forward in Finn’s wake, but now they stood still, shocked and silent.

“Oh, yes,” Lorcan said. “I
am
invulnerable. I wield the true shield of protection, which cannot be penetrated by those with ill intentions. No one in Tír na nÓg or in Ériu can stand against me. Try, if you must. Use all your powers and arts against me, but the price you will pay is your life. If this traitor had been in his true form, the impact would have killed him at once. As it is, I shall finish him off now.” He held out his hand and his sword flew into it.

Cedar cast one last glance back at Eden, but met Nuala’s eyes instead. Nuala had come up beside Eden and was covering the child’s eyes with her hand. Then Cedar turned and ran straight toward Lorcan, focusing all her hatred and fear and anger on him.

The last thing she felt was a burst of pure, white-hot pain. Then, nothing.

Nuala stood as still as the immobilized girl beside her, frozen with shock as she watched the events unfold around her. When Cedar hit Lorcan’s shield, she immediately fell to the ground, unmistakably dead. Her body was red and raw, as though she had been flayed, and her eyes were open and unseeing. Nuala tightened her grip over Eden’s eyes.

Then several things happened at once.

Lorcan lowered his sword, picked up Cedar’s body and lifted it like a trophy into the air.

“Who will defy me next?” he roared, throwing her body back onto the floor in front of his feet like a rag doll. He turned back to Finn, who had managed to get as far as his knees and was groping for Lorcan’s dropped sword. Lorcan kicked the sword away and reached for Finn as if he was going to rip him apart with his bare hands.

And then the mist rose.

It was barely noticeable at first, but Nuala knew what it was. She had seen this scene repeated far too many times over the course of the war. Several people in the crowd cried out, and Lorcan twisted around to see the mist drifting toward him. He looked at Cedar’s body in surprise, and then started backing away from it. But it was too late. The mist surrounded him, disappearing into him like a sponge soaking up water.

He must have been able to feel the change, must have known what was taking place, for even as his body started to wither and shrink, he let out a roar of protest and anger. But his strong voice was now feeble, and before the eyes of those who had feared him above all else, he transformed from an ancient, all-powerful ruler of the Tuatha Dé Danann to a very old human.

Nuala heard the murmurs as the crowd began to understand what had happened. Of course, the great High King Brogan and his noble wife, Kier, could not have bred a human child. This woman who had so valiantly defended her own child against the ruler who had terrified them all, she was Tuatha Dé Danann. Her gift, her ability—it was humanity.

And now it was Lorcan’s.

The shrunken, aged body stood for a moment on legs so pale and thin they shook with the effort. Then Lorcan’s white
head was neatly separated from his shoulders by his own sword in Finn’s hands.

Chaos erupted. Nuala felt Eden warm and soften in her arms, and she released her grip on the child, only to wrap her arms around her again and whisper, “I’m sorry, Eden. But your father is here, he really is. He’ll look after you now.” Nuala saw Finn looking around for them. She gave Eden one last embrace, and then ran. When she was beyond the marble arches she turned to see Finn crouching over Cedar, shaking her, picking her up and half-carrying, half-dragging her over to where Eden was running to meet him, screaming for her mother. She saw Finn grab at the girl, say something to her, beg her, and then together, Finn still carrying Cedar’s body, they staggered to one of the marble arches and, after only a second’s hesitation, disappeared. Others tried to follow, only to find themselves on the other side of the arch. Nuala started running and didn’t look back.

It was overcast on the day they buried her. The sky mingled with the fog, as if the clouds had descended to walk among them, to share in their grief.

They buried her under the great cedar tree at the country home. The tree still shimmered slightly. Around it, the Tuatha Dé Danann stood in a ring, surrounding the two graves, their faces somber.

Finn and Eden stood closest to where they had laid Maeve in the ground. Her body was in a simple wooden coffin, still open. Riona had dressed her in a long green gown that billowed around her, and had placed a bouquet of wildflowers in her arms. It looked as though she were lying in a field of grass at springtime. Seeing her there, one could almost picture her as the young woman who had captured the heart of the High King of the Tuatha Dé Danann.

Eden, clutching Baby Bunny in both hands, started to shake with sobs. Finn bent down and wrapped his arms around her, gathering her into his chest. He nodded at Riona, who stepped forward and looked into the grave at Maeve’s closed eyes, her peaceful face. Then Riona spoke.

“Maeve McLeod, druid and friend to the Tuatha Dé Danann, rest well in this place. You were one of the last of your kind, a woman of wisdom and skill, of fire and spirit. You were proof that humans still play a part in the destiny of our people.” Riona paused for a moment, her face full of sorrow. Then she continued.

“You had little love for us, and I understand why. Our race was not kind to you, and for that, I am so very sorry. Thank you for raising Cedar as you did, for taking her in and loving her as your own. You spent your life protecting her, and you gave your life protecting Eden. You will forever have the gratitude and respect of all the Tuatha Dé Danann. May your spirit find the love and peace you so deeply deserve.”

Riona stepped back from the grave, and Sam and Dermot moved to close the lid of the coffin. Suddenly, Eden broke away from Finn’s embrace. “Wait!” she cried, and the men stepped back. She walked to the edge of the grave and looked down at her grandmother. Then she gave Baby Bunny one last cuddle and dropped him into the coffin. “I don’t want Gran to be alone,” she said, before running back into Finn’s arms. Tears streamed down his face and into her hair as he held her close. The only sounds in the air were the uneven sobs of a little girl and the soft thud of dirt hitting the wooden coffin.

At first, she didn’t know where she was. The lights were off in the room, except for a lamp beside the bed. She glanced at it without raising her head off the pillow. It was the same Beatrix Potter lamp she’d had as a child. She sat up slowly and
looked around. She was in her old bedroom at the country house. She held her breath and listened, but it was perfectly quiet. She was alone.
Is this the afterlife?
She swung her feet out from under the covers and stood up, feeling the grain of the hardwood under her bare feet and the fibers of the thin cotton nightgown brushing against her skin.
I shouldn’t be able to feel anything,
she thought. She walked over to the window and pulled the curtains aside, wincing as the diffuse light from the overcast sky stabbed at her eyes. She could see people standing in small groups in the yard, some gazing at two fresh mounds of dirt on either side of the cedar tree. She squinted through the window at the figures below. She recognized Riona and Molly and several of the others, but she didn’t see Finn…or Eden.
How is this possible? Did I fail? Am I alive instead of them?
Suddenly panicked, she moved to the door of the room and flung it open. “Hello?” she called. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

She heard a clatter like a tray being dropped, and then footsteps thundered up the stairs. She took a couple of steps back from the doorway just as Felix burst into the room. He let out a howl and clapped his hands together, his face breaking into a wide toothy grin.

“Well, I’ll be damned! You’re alive!” he said, grabbing her in a sudden hug. He let her go and stood there beaming, and then suddenly his face went stern. “Get yerself back in that bed right this instant and let me check you over. Need to make sure nothin’s amiss.” He strode over to the window, yanked it open, and bellowed, “Get in here, she’s awake!”

“Felix,” Cedar began, sitting back down on the side of the bed. “What happened? How did I get back here? Eden and Finn, are they…?”

“Hush now, they’re both all right, thanks to you,” he said, as he began to examine her. “That was a mighty fine thing you did, make no mistake, although I reckon Finn’ll be havin’ words with you over the matter. But don’t fret. He’s bound to be too overjoyed you’ve got air in yer lungs and blood in yer veins to give you too much trouble.”

They’re all right,
she repeated to herself.
They’re alive.
She felt her body sag with relief and sat farther back on the bed, leaning against the pillows.

“But how? Lorcan should have killed me,” she said. “Did it work? Is he human?” She remembered rushing at Lorcan as he poised his sword over Finn’s prone body. She had assumed that would be the end. She would be dead, but so would Lorcan, and Eden would be safe.

Felix grinned and looked like he was about to answer her questions when Riona burst into the room.

“Cedar!” she cried, and then she completely startled Cedar by falling on her, weeping. “You’re okay,” Riona said when she had sufficiently recovered herself.

“I am,” Cedar said. “Where’s Eden? And Finn? Are they here? Are they all right?” she asked again. A crowd was gathering at the door, but Felix growled at them to stay out while he examined his patient.

“Yes, dear, they’re fine, they’re fine,” Riona said, patting Cedar’s hand. “Anya’s gone to fetch them. Finn took Eden back to your apartment after…well, we buried Maeve this morning. I’m sorry we didn’t wait for you, we just didn’t know how long it would be. Finn has hardly left your side, and Eden won’t leave his, so we thought it would be good for them both to have a change of scenery, and for Eden to be in her own home for a while. They’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”