Through the Door (23 page)

He shook his head, and she ached to reach up and wrap one of his curls around her finger. “That is what my people believe, but they believe a lie. It was a well-intentioned lie, but a lie nonetheless. Lorcan
can
kill her, and
can
take her ability. He could have killed me and taken mine.”

“Then why…?”

“I was far away from Lorcan when I died. It happened when we were ambushed by fifty of his warriors, with orders to take me alive. Ruadhan and I slew them all, but I was mortally wounded. Before I died, I told Ruadhan to spread the word that Lorcan had killed me yet failed to assimilate the gift of the sidhe. He has been a faithful friend to conceal my secret for so long.” He looked urgently into her eyes. “You must stop them, Maeve. Stop Fionnghuala. You are more powerful than you realize. Eden must not reach Lorcan or her death will be the first of many.”

Maeve was staring at him in shock. “Why? Why did you do it?”

“To protect you, all of you. Don’t blame Ruadhan. It was my decision to conceal the truth,” Brogan said, his face agonized. “I hoped it would show our people that Lorcan was unworthy of the gift, that it would undermine his claim to the
throne and give others the courage to stand against him. I did not foresee this.” He shook his head and started backing away.

“Wait!” Maeve called after him. “Stay, please, just a while longer. I have so much to ask you. Let me be with you for a moment more.”

By now, Brogan was several paces away, and the outline of his form was beginning to fade. His voice, when it came, sounded as if he were standing right next to her, his lips tickling her earlobe as he lifted a lock of hair to whisper in her ear. “You must go back now. Save the child. Tell Fionnghuala the truth about my death. I knew her well, and she is not beyond hope. She is starting to grow fond of the child and may listen to you.” His voice started to fade as his body disappeared. She could not be sure whether it was his voice or her own imagination that whispered, “Maeve…I love you still…”

She tried to follow him but her legs refused to obey—some unknown force held her feet fast to the ground no matter how much she strived to move forward. Finally, she cried out in frustration and took a step in the opposite direction, and found she could move quite freely that way.

It was enough. “Eden,” she gasped, remembering what Brogan had told her. “Wake up,” she said to herself. “Wake up!” She shook her head violently and slapped her cheeks until they stung. She let loose a cry of anguish, then stepped back over the water and began to run as fast as her sixty-seven-year-old legs would carry her. She had to find a way to wake from this dream before it was too late. She ran and ran until she thought her heart would explode. Then she felt herself falling through nothingness, without even a breeze to slow her descent.

She awoke with a gasp. She sat perfectly still for a moment as the physical world rushed back to her, and then she glanced at the clock. She had been asleep for most of the day. Was she too late? She grabbed her purse from the desk and hastily locked up and ran to her car. Then she peeled out of the gravel driveway, leaving behind nothing but dust and memories.

“I hate you!
I hate you!
” Eden was hysterical, pummeling Nuala with her fists. Nuala was breathing heavily. Their escape from the Merrow and the Tuatha Dé Danann had been too close, too sloppy. She ignored Eden’s screams and looked around. Then she swore loudly. She was surrounded by pink: light pink wallpaper with tiny white polka dots, a deep pink carpet, and a poster of a pink unicorn on the wall. They were in Eden’s bedroom.

“You brought us
here
? We have to get out of here. Now,” she said, grabbing hold of Eden’s wrists.

“No!” Eden roared back. “I don’t want to go! I want my mum!”“Listen to me! I know you’re scared, but that’s why we have to go. All the fighting you saw, that’s what will keep happening if you stay here. That’s what we’re trying to get away from. You won’t need to be afraid in Tír na nÓg. There’s nothing scary there—no fighting, ever. Just magic and peace and music and happiness. And don’t forget about your father.”

“I want my mum,” Eden said stubbornly.

“Of course you do. But your mum doesn’t want to go to Fairyland. She wants to stay here with the monsters and the people doing all the fighting. I want to get you somewhere safe. Your
mum can come if she wants—you just need to go first to show her how wonderful it is. It’s not like you’re leaving her behind. You’re just opening the door for her. Without you, we’re all trapped in this horrible place. You have to be brave enough to take us to Fairyland, Eden. We can’t do it without you.”

Eden didn’t say anything, which Nuala took as a good sign. At least the girl had stopped screaming. “Let’s talk about what happened. Wasn’t the Merrow kingdom amazing?”

Eden nodded.

“What was your favorite part?” Nuala asked.

“I liked the candies that turned my hair different colors,” Eden said with a small smile.

Nuala smiled back. “I liked that too. And did you like the big picture of Tír na nÓg, er, Fairyland?”

Eden nodded. “I thought I could jump right into it, like in
Mary Poppins
!”

“I know!” Nuala tried to sound enthusiastic. “I thought that too. Can you still remember what it looks like?”

“Uh-huh,” Eden answered. “I think so.”

“I know there was a lot going on when you tried to open the door to Fairyland the first time. Don’t feel bad that it didn’t work. Let’s try again, okay?” Nuala said.

Eden sighed audibly, then walked over and opened the bedroom door. Nuala’s breath, which she had been holding, came out in a snarl when the open doorway revealed only the austere hallway of the apartment.

“What happened?” she asked Eden, fighting to control her anger.

Eden was looking through the door, confused. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I really don’t!” she insisted at the skeptical look on Nuala’s face.

“Try again. Think harder.” Eden closed the door and then opened it again, with the same infuriating result. “Damn it!” Nuala screamed. She was so close, so incredibly close, and there was no way she could turn back now. The Tuatha Dé Danann would accept no apology, they would show no mercy, especially not after what had happened to Oscar. They would hunt her down, even if it took the next several centuries to do so. Spending centuries in hiding was not a prospect Nuala relished. Why hadn’t it worked? She had seen the painting with her own eyes; it had looked as real as any photograph. Was the girl trying to trick her?

“You’re doing something wrong!” she hissed at Eden.

“No, I’m not! I’m doing it the same as I always do it!”

“Don’t play games with me! Don’t you want to see your father? He’s not going to wait forever, you know! Try again!”

“No!” Eden yelled, and ran out into the living room.

Nuala ran after her. “You little bitch!” she screamed at Eden, who cowered behind the sofa.

“I hate you!” Eden screamed back. “Leave me alone!” Then she looked up and her eyes brightened. “Gran!”

Nuala twisted around to see Maeve standing in the doorway of the apartment.
Damn,
she thought. She knew this might happen. This was the worst place in the world they could be. Now she would have to kill the old lady. In less than a second, she was holding Maeve by the throat.

“What are you doing here, druid?” she hissed.

“Here…to…help…you,” Maeve gasped.

Nuala dropped her hand, and Maeve fell choking to the floor. Eden darted out from behind the sofa and threw herself into her grandmother’s arms. Maeve cradled the girl in her lap, still struggling to regain her breath.

“Really?” Nuala asked dryly. “You’re here to help
me
?”

“I’m here to give you information,” Maeve said, getting back to her feet and pulling Eden behind her, “not to fight you. I’m here alone. No one else knows you’re here.”

“And how exactly did
you
know we were here?” Nuala asked.

“I have just dream-walked with Brogan mac Airgetlam,” Maeve said, looking her in the eye. “And he begs you not to sacrifice the life of this innocent child. He says that Lorcan will kill her the moment he realizes who she is.”

“Lorcan needs her alive,” Nuala spat. “She will be well treated.”

“She won’t! It’s a lie!” Maeve said. “Brogan told me the truth about what really happened in Tír na nÓg. Brogan was killed in an ambush, not by Lorcan. Lorcan
could
have killed him,
could
have taken his power.”

“Do you think I’m stupid, druid? Do you think I can’t see what you’re trying to do?”

“I speak the truth!” Maeve insisted. “The story you’ve been told was planted by Brogan and Rohan. After Brogan died, Rohan spread the word that Lorcan had killed him, but had failed to assimilate Brogan’s power.”

“And why would Rohan spread such a lie?”

“To stop the war. Brogan and Rohan thought your people would be less likely to follow Lorcan if they believed that he was unworthy to receive the gift of the sidhe. Obviously, they were wrong.”

Nuala stared at the plump, frazzled woman. Maeve had some nerve coming here, but she didn’t believe her story. Nuala had heard from Rohan himself how Brogan and Lorcan had fought, how the king had fallen. She had heard
of Lorcan’s rage when he had discovered he could not have the one power he so desperately wanted, which was now beyond his grasp. And then there was Lorcan’s edict, his promise of a pardon and rewards for anyone who brought him the child. She knew taking Eden to him would make up for her part in the rebellion. She knew how badly he wanted to reopen the sidhe. He would not risk losing that power by killing the girl.

“You’re lying,” she said to Maeve. “You think you can trick me? Are you that great a fool?”

“No!” Maeve cried. “I’m telling the truth! You will deliver her to her death! I can help you. There is another way!”

“Why would you want to help me if you think I’m trying to kill her?” Nuala said through clenched teeth.

“She can’t open the sidh, can she? That’s because she still hasn’t seen Tír na nÓg, not really. I know a way that might help, a druid way. The others won’t suspect that I would help you, or even know that I can. But you have to swear to me that once she opens the sidh, you will leave her behind in our world. You’ll have what you want—you’ll be home.”

Nuala considered Maeve, who was trembling almost as much as the child who clung to her leg. “What is this druid way?” she asked.

“A dream-share. I can link your subconscious minds, so Eden will be able to see the images of Tír na nÓg in your mind, in your memories.”

“That won’t work with her,” Nuala snapped, impatient and still suspicious. “Mind powers don’t work on the sidh-closers.”

Maeve shook her head frantically. “This is different! It’s a potion, one I’ve used before. There’s no reason it wouldn’t work.”

Nuala glanced down at Eden, who was watching the exchange with large, frightened eyes. She didn’t trust Maeve, but she had run out of ideas.

“Fine,” Nuala said. “How do we do this dream-share?”

Maeve relaxed visibly. “Thank you,” she said. “We’ll need to go to my workshop at my house in the country. I have all the supplies I’ll need there. And it’s very private.”

Nuala went over to the girl and lifted her up by the arm. Eden squealed and Nuala saw Maeve’s face crease with worry. “Eden. Open a sidh to your grandmother’s house,” she said.

“Wait,” Maeve said, looking uncomfortable. “We’ll need to drive, if I am to come with you. I’m unable to cross through the sidhe. It’s an old enchantment, one Brogan placed on me. I have tried to lift it, but cannot.” Nuala glared at her. “I am not trying to trick you, I swear it! I swear it on Eden’s life!” she said.

Nuala narrowed her eyes at her, but then nodded. “So we drive.
You
drive. I’ll sit with the child. I don’t think I need to warn you about what will happen if you betray me.”

Maeve nodded and said, “Just let me gather some food for Eden. She looks half-starved and dead on her feet.”

Nuala waited impatiently while Maeve stuffed a bag with food. An hour later, they pulled up in front of the old house. Nuala had been there before, the day after she had taken the child, in the hopes that Eden could open the old sidh in Maeve’s cellar. This was also where she had first set foot on Ériu soil, many years ago. She hated the place, despite all its picturesque charm, its white siding and dark green shutters and gables. It was situated at the tip of a finger of land that jutted into the bay between Mill Cove and Halfmoon Cove. From the veranda, one could look out into Mahone Bay, past Little Fish and Big
Gooseberry Islands, and into the ocean, and imagine a world beyond. To Nuala it represented the worst decision she had ever made—leaving the splendor of Tír na nÓg.

She had been naive, yes, but she had also been deceived. She had never met a human before, but she had heard the stories—tales of handsome, mighty warriors who could kill a wild ox with their bare hands, and who wrote poetry, sang, and gave counsel to the wise. She had heard the women were breathtakingly beautiful, and that to see one was to instantly fall in love. When the time had come to choose sides, she had rallied with the king to prevent Lorcan from waging war on the humans. She snorted in derision at the thought now. She couldn’t believe she had been so wrong, so entirely misled. The humans she had encountered after fleeing through the sidh with Rohan and the rest of their small group of survivors were nothing like those in the stories. Instead of epitomizing valor and beauty, they seemed to revel in pettiness, sloth, and greed. They were pathetic, weak, ugly, and unexceptional in every way.

Eden was asleep when they arrived. Nuala shook her awake, and the girl looked around the yard, sleepy and confused.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“We’re at the country house,” Maeve answered. “You haven’t been inside this building before, have you?” The older woman sounded almost chipper when speaking to Eden, but whenever the girl’s eyes left her, her face crumpled back into lines of worry. “This is where I do my work,” she said as she led them toward the small shop in the yard. She waved her arms in front of the door and muttered incantations under her breath before letting them in.