Through the Door (35 page)

Cedar’s face fell and her heart clenched at the thought of Maeve, but she still had so many questions. “Felix, did you do this?” she asked. “Make me alive?”

Felix threw back his head and let out a booming laugh. “Me? Nay, I’ve not the ability to bring back the dead.”

“Then how—?” Cedar began.

“We hoped it might happen,” Riona interrupted, her cheeks flushed. “I mean, we had no idea you were going to do what you did. It hadn’t even crossed our minds that Kier and Maeve had given you a new gift. We thought you
were
human. And, well, there will be time for apologies later, I suppose, but we certainly didn’t treat you right, Cedar, and I’m sorry. When Finn brought you and Eden back from Tír na nÓg, he thought you were dead. You
were
dead.” A shadow passed over her face and she shook her head. “I’m glad you didn’t have to see him then. Rohan and Murdoch wasted no time in going over to Tír na nÓg once Finn had told them what had happened. They’re there now, trying to sort things out. It’s a mess. The sidh is still open, the one Eden created in the tree. The poor girl seemed nearly as dead as you were. She’s fine now,” she added hastily at the look on Cedar’s face, “physically, at any rate, now that Felix has seen to her. The rest, well, that will take time, but it will be much easier now that you’re back with us.”

“Yes, but how?” Cedar interrupted, sitting up straighter.

“Yer plan worked all right, if that’s what yer wonderin’,” Felix growled through a grin that seemed permanently etched on his face. “Lorcan shriveled up like a prune and yer boy Finn lopped off his head with his own sword.”

Cedar sank back into her pillows with relief. Lorcan was dead, truly dead. Of course, that still didn’t explain how she
was alive. Her face must have betrayed the question because Felix continued.

“No one ever really understood how Lorcan did what he did, how his ability worked. It’s quite rare, you see. Turns out he’s like a storage unit for a person’s whole essence, not just their particular gift. And when he died,” Felix shrugged expansively, “well, all those essences were freed. While they were trapped in his body they were unable to pass on, and for some reason instead of passing on once they were released, they went back to find their bodies.” He shook his head. “It’s quite remarkable. People comin’ back to life all over Tír na nÓg. When we heard this had started happenin’, well, we scarce wanted to believe it in case it wouldn’t work in yer particular situation. Finn wanted to move you back to Tír na nÓg so yer essence could have an easier time finding you, but almost every bone in yer body was broken, and I didn’t want you comin’ back to life just to die from yer injuries. It’s only been two days, but I think I’ve got you healed up pretty good. The sidh was open, and we figured that if it was really yer essence he had taken, it would know how to find its way back to yer body.”

“Mummy?” the tiny voice at the door caused them all to look around. Eden and Finn were standing in the doorway, holding hands. Finn’s face was taut. He looked as though he were barely holding himself together. Cedar drank them both in with her eyes.

“She’s okay, Eden,” Riona said in a gentle voice. “Your mother is fine.”

“Eden,” Cedar whispered, then the tears started coming. Eden let go of Finn’s hand and rushed to her, jumping onto the bed and into Cedar’s waiting arms. “You’re safe now,”
Cedar told her, clinging tightly to her daughter. “I’m so sorry for what happened to you, my heart. You’re safe now. We’re going to get through this together.”

They lay entwined and crying for what seemed like hours. Eventually, Eden’s sobs subsided and she snuggled close, her head against her mother’s chest. Cedar kissed the top of her head and tried to rein in her own tears, which were still flowing. She closed her eyes and listened as Eden’s breath became slow and steady. Then she opened them and looked up.

He was still there, standing in the doorway. Felix and Riona had gone. Finn’s eyes were rimmed with red, and his face was blotchy with spent emotion. “Cedar,” he breathed. “I’m so…how could you…I thought…”

“Shh,” she said, reaching out her hand and pulling him gently onto the bed. He eased himself down beside her, careful not to disturb their sleeping child. “Don’t be angry with me, not right now, when everything is perfect. We’ll have time to fight about it later.” She smiled at him softly, and ran her fingers along the stubble of his jaw and over his lips.

“Okay,” he said, covering her hand with his own. “Later.”

The fight never did happen, though Finn rarely let either Eden or Cedar out of his sight, even for a moment. Cedar oscillated between euphoria and exhaustion, as she came to grips with the death of the woman she had believed was her mother, while at the same time reveling in the joy of Eden’s safe return and her reunion with Finn. Eden was quiet and withdrawn, and would rarely talk to them about what had happened with Nuala, but seemed to take comfort in just being together with
them. Cedar didn’t push it, not yet. Instead, the three of them spent hours getting to know one another all over again, reading books, and sharing their memories of Maeve. Finn told Eden stories of the Tuatha Dé Danann, and she listened with rapt attention. Cedar listened closely too, and there was no hint of the skepticism she had felt when Finn had tried to tell her these stories years ago. She knew now that they were true, and that they were stories about her own people.

About a week after the events in the Great Hall at Tír na nÓg, Finn asked Cedar the inevitable question. They were lying in bed together, back in Cedar’s apartment, early in the morning. Finn rolled over and faced Cedar, propping himself up and gazing at her intently.

“So what happens now?” he asked.

She didn’t have to ask what he was referring to. She had been thinking long and hard about what they should do next, now that Eden was back and she had received Felix’s bill of clean health. She returned his gaze steadily.

“I think we should go back,” she said. “We should go to Tír na nÓg.” She saw the relief in his eyes and smiled. She knew he wanted to return to the land of his childhood, though he hadn’t said so. She knew he would want to be part of the restoration, to help rebuild Tír na nÓg into the great land it had once been. And she had come to realize that she wanted that too. She wanted to be part of something bigger than herself. She wanted to embrace who she was, and discover more about her biological parents and their home. And above all, she wanted a safe place for Eden, where she wouldn’t have to worry about her accidentally opening a sidh in front of her friends or teachers and ending up in a government lab or military institution. School was starting soon, and Cedar
thought it would be best if they were gone by then. She told Finn all this, and he leaned back into the pillows and looked up at the ceiling.

“I agree, but it won’t be easy,” he said. “From what Rohan tells me, things are a real mess over there. It’s hard to tell the people who actually agreed with Lorcan from the ones who were just supporting him out of fear. The Council has taken over for the time being. They’re well respected, and they used to advise the High Kings before Lorcan disbanded them. But who knows if they can sort through the chaos and set things right again.”

“All the more reason we should be there,” Cedar said. “Maybe we can help. Has there been any word on Nuala?”

“Nothing,” Finn said, frowning. “No one has seen her—or at least no one is letting on that they have.”

Cedar’s stomach squirmed uncomfortably. She didn’t like the idea of Nuala on the loose. She was sure that the redhead would not give up her delusions of power so easily. But Eden, at least, was safe. There was no one besides Lorcan who could gain her power through her death, and Eden’s gift would be treasured by all the Tuatha Dé Danann. Yes, she thought, it would be safer for Eden there, among her own people. Yes, they would go, and face Nuala again if they had to. But this time, they would be together.

THE END

There are not enough words to express my deep gratitude to my friend and mentor Chris Hansen, who selflessly shared his vast knowledge of story and painstakingly walked me through the creation of this one. Chris, you changed my life. I cannot thank you enough.

There are many other people to whom I am grateful. Here are but a few: Justin Sherwin; Mark and Kari Petzold; Jason and Christie Goode; Janelle deJager; Kelley Stuart, Andrea Penner, and their books clubs; Carla Sbrocchi; and my parents, Judi and Allan McIsaac, for their unwavering support and invaluable editorial assistance.

I am so grateful for the hardworking, überprofessional, and very fun team at 47North, including David Pomerico, Katy Ball, Patrick Magee, Kelly Borgeson, and Angela Polidoro. You have all made my first foray into the publishing world an incredibly positive experience.

Of course, I’m very grateful to my husband, Mike, who allowed this book to invade our lives, helped me find time and space for this passion of mine, and cheerfully served as a perpetual sounding board; and also to my children, Lauren and Willow, who never seemed to grow tired of the refrain
“Mummy’s writing” and had their own helpful suggestions for what to include in Mummy’s story (cue Baby Bunny).

To everyone else who believed in me: thank you.

Jodi McIsaac grew up in New Brunswick, on Canada’s east coast. After abandoning her Olympic speed skating dream, she wrote speeches for a premier, volunteered in a refugee camp, waited tables in Belfast, Northern Ireland, and earned a couple of university degrees. She now runs a boutique copywriting agency in Calgary, Alberta, where she lives with her husband and two feisty daughters.

Visit
www.jodimcisaac.com
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