Beyond the Pale: A Thin Veil Novella (The Thin Veil Book 3) Page 6

  Finally, Kier spoke, a small smile on her lips, “You’re a good man, Brogan, and a great king, when you’re thinking clearly. You’re a dreadful husband, but you’re right—maybe that can change. What’s important is that we don’t give Lorcan any access to Ériu. You and I…we’ll figure that out later. Thank you for telling me the truth.”

  Then she swallowed her desire to either kiss him or punch him, and told him everything she had learned. Then, haltingly, she told him of her plan to become the dyad. “I just need a druid to help cast the spell,” she said.

  A strange shadow passed over his features, and he shook his head firmly. “It’s far too dangerous, Kier—we don’t even know what a spell like that would do to you. It could kill you!”

  “But don’t you think it’s worth the risk?” she said.

  “Not to me,” he said.

  “It’s our best chance,” she insisted. “I need you to trust me.”

  “I do trust you, but it’s too risky.” Brogan turned to Felix, who had rejoined them. “You know of her plan?” Felix nodded. “Then surely you agree—it cannot be done without harm to her.”

  Felix looked between the two of them, as though trying to find the correct words to use. “It is too risky,” he said slowly. “But not because I believe it would harm her… Kier, you are pregnant.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Seven months later

  Kier paced the floor of her bedroom, her hands wrapped around her protruding stomach. “Shhhh,” she whispered. “It will all be okay.” The baby was a feisty one, constantly kicking and moving. But today she seemed more agitated than usual. Kier tried to keep herself calm, but she knew the baby could sense her anxiety. Danann mothers were often able to communicate with their children in the womb, not in words, but in images and bursts of emotion. “Your father is off fighting,” she told her child. “But he’ll come home. He always does.” She forced herself to stop pacing, and sat down in a chair near the window. She looked out over the land she loved. At least a quarter of it had turned a dull, sickly color, as though a thick layer of dust lay over it. Like ashes, she thought, thinking of the prophecy. Softly, she started to sing, a song her mother had often sung to her, a tribute to the beauty of Tír na nÓg, the most beautiful land in all the worlds, made by the Tuatha Dé Danann, for the Tuatha Dé Danann. Except now the Elders had gone to the Four Cities, and so many others seemed to think Ériu held more appeal than their home. “This is where we belong,” she cooed to the life inside her. She closed her eyes and focused on the surge of happiness the baby was feeling, hoping that she would feel that way herself someday soon.

  The war had started sooner than expected. Somehow, Lorcan had amassed enough followers to make an attack on the Hall, demanding that King step down and join the humans he so loved. Brogan’s forces had easily repelled them, but Lorcan had escaped, and more attacks had followed. The rebels did not assault the Hall again, but instead started claiming sections of Tír na nÓg for Lorcan. When Brogan would send his warriors to reclaim his territory, they would meet Lorcan’s forces in open battle. Sometimes the king’s warriors won. Sometimes they lost. But as the deaths piled up, it soon became apparent who the real winner was.

  A knock on the door startled Kier out of her reverie. With effort, she rose from the chair and called out, “Who is it?”

  “I have a message for you, my lady,” came the voice of one of her maidservants. Kier opened the door, and the servant handed her a folded piece of parchment, sealed with gold wax. Once she was alone again, Kier sat back down and opened it. Her heart stopped when she recognized the curved, slanted handwriting.

  My dearest Kier,

  It is time. We belong together, you and I, and now I have the power to give you everything you deserve. I know you think you are doing what is best by standing with Brogan, but you are wrong. If you truly want to do what is best for our people, then you must stop this senseless war. I do not relish the killing of our own blood, but I will do whatever I must in order to renew the pride and glory of our great race. You know that your husband’s feeble attempts to side with the humans will fail, and will result in the destruction of his own people. I do not wish this.

  I know you long for peace, my dove. And it can come. You have the power to stop this madness, to stop the killing. You only have to persuade your husband to step down as king and re-open the sidhe to Ériu. If he does this, I will let him live. If he does not, then I will have no choice but to challenge him face to face. You know what I am capable of, Kier. You know that I will win.

  But it doesn’t have to come to this. You can bring us peace, my heart. I’m counting on you—we all are.

  With enduring affection,

  Lorcan

  Kier read the letter through twice, her hands trembling. Then she ripped it into shreds and tossed them into the fire that burned in the grate. Lorcan was right about one thing: it was up to her. She could bring peace to them all. But not in the way he thought. She knew Brogan would die before he would cede power to Lorcan, and she would never ask him to do such a thing. If they could just hold out a while longer, until the baby was born, she could put her plan into action.

  She had spent countless hours in the library, poring over the ancient texts and studying the spell books the druids had left behind when they left Tír na nÓg for Ériu. She had found the spell to turn a Danann into a human—or the closest thing to it. It was quite clever really. The druid would take away her fire-gift, giving her the gift of humanity instead. Then she would be the dyad, and she would rid the land of Lorcan’s poison. There was still the problem of finding a druid, but she was certain she would be able to convince Brogan to open a sidh just long enough for her to slip through to Ériu. Once the transformation was complete, she would contact him using her starstone, and he’d bring her back to Tír na nÓg. She looked out of the window again. Somewhere out there, Brogan and so many of their friends were fighting. The baby kicked hard, and Kier gasped. “Calm down, little one. You just get here safely, and then we will end this madness.”

  Two days later, Kier was still in her room. For her own safety, she had been confined to the Hall once the fighting had reached a certain point. She missed her trips to the library, but Eolas had sent her a large stack of books to help her pass the time. Riona would occasionally stop in for a visit, but she had her two young children to worry about while Ruadhan fought by the king’s side. And so it was with delight that she heard a knock on the door, followed by the sound of her brother’s voice on the other side.

  “Brion!” she cried, flinging her arms around him when he came in. He untangled himself from her embrace and kissed her cheek.

  “How are you, sister?” he asked, his eyes on her round belly.

  “I’m going mad, to be honest,” she answered. “Tell me what’s happening, I want to know everything.”

  “There will be time for that later,” he said. “I need you to come with me.”

  “Why? What has happened? Is it Brogan? Is he—?” She felt her heart plummet like a stone, and she doubled over in pain as the baby started to kick in panic.

  “Brogan is fine,” Brion assured her. “But he summoned me to move you. He received information that an attack on the Hall is imminent.”

  “What about the servants?” Kier asked, her eyes wide with alarm.

  “I’ve given instructions that they are free to flee to wherever they can find safety. We suspect that Lorcan himself is coming to lead the attack. He has become very powerful, Kier. Each new death has infused him with more abilities. I do not think we could withstand him.”

  “Where is Brogan?” Kier asked.

  “I do not know,” he answered. “I received word via a messenger, bearing his seal. But we must move quickly.”

  Kier clutched the starstone around her neck and began to sing the song that activated it, but Brion stopped her. “We don’t have time, Kier. And you must not distract the king while he is in battle.”

  She dropped the stone
and grabbed a cloak from her wardrobe before following her brother. A group of guards stood ready as they exited the Hall. They formed a circle around Kier, so that she was hidden in their ranks. “Where are we going?” she asked Brion, but he just shook his head, and she fell silent.

  They walked for several minutes, until they came to edge of a dark forest. Kier tried to peer through the trees, but she could not make out any discernible path. Leaving the guards behind, Brion led her into the woods, moving branches to the side and helping her over fallen logs. They walked for what felt like hours, slowly picking their way through the trees. It grew darker and darker, and finally she asked again, “Brion, where are you taking me?” His only response was to lift a finger to his lips. Her legs and back burned, and she was covered with scratches. The baby, however, seemed to have fallen asleep, lulled by the motion of Kier’s flight into the woods.

  “Here it is,” Brion said quietly.

  “Here what is?” she answered. She could barely see anything around her, just vague tree-like shapes in the darkness.

  “A hidden shelter. Known to but a select few.” He wrapped his hand around the branch of tree, as though he were about to break it off. But instead of breaking, the branch swung down like a lever. With a barely-audible creak, a door appeared in the trunk, just large enough for a person to squeeze through. Brion motioned for Kier to go first. “It can only take one at a time. I’ll be right behind you,” he said.

  Kier stepped gingerly into the tree, maneuvering her belly so that it did not get scratched by the bark. The inside of the tree smelled of moss. As soon as she was through the door, it closed, and she felt the ground beneath her feet begin to descend. She reached out a hand to steady herself, and discovered that the trunk around her was moving, too, as though the whole tree were sinking into the ground. After only a few moments, it slowed to a stop, and the door re-opened.

  She stepped out into a dimly lit room, where Lorcan stood waiting for her.

  For a moment, she stood frozen, unsure of what to do. Then she remembered her brother. “Brion, run!” she yelled into the still-open door, hoping the sound would travel upwards. “It’s a trap!” The door closed and ascended once more, and she turned back to face Lorcan.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “This is where I live,” he said calmly. “It’s nice to see you again, too.”

  “What do you mean, this is where you live?” she asked. “Why would Brion bring me here?”

  “Because you were on the losing side, and he wanted to keep you safe.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked. The baby was awake now; Kier could feel her stirring. Just then Brion stepped out of the door, which had reappeared behind her. “I know you think he’s a villain now,” Brion said, nodding toward Lorcan. “But he’s doing what is right for our people. He has more ambition in his little finger than Brogan does in his entire body. You were right to love him. Our parents chose the wrong husband for you.”

  “No,” Kier said, shaking her head. “You’ve been brainwashed.”

  At this Lorcan laughed. “Not brainwashed, my dear. Let’s just say your brother has seen the light. Thank you, Brion. You can leave us now.”

  Brion hesitated. “You swore she wouldn’t be harmed.”

  Lorcan gave him a scornful look. “Of course she won’t be harmed. But she will be made useful.”

  Brion left, and the door disappeared, leaving her and Lorcan alone together. She had once been so comfortable in Lorcan’s presence, but now she wanted nothing more than to get away from him.

  “You did not respond to my letter,” he said, his eyes fixed calmly on her.

  “I burned it,” she spat back.

  “Hmm. Shame. Tell me, how’s the baby?”

  “She’s none of your business,” Kier said through gritted teeth.

  “She? So it’s a girl, is it? How sweet. She is Brogan’s child, no? Or have you taken up his habit of sharing the wealth?”

  “Of course she’s his. Why do you care? What do you want from me?”

  Lorcan steepled his long fingers, bringing them to his lips. “I want many things from you, Kier. It appears I shall never have some of them—faithfulness, for example. But what your brother said was partly true. Now that the commander of the king’s army has decided he prefers my vision of the future to the king’s…well, let’s just say the Hall is not a safe place anymore. This unfortunate war will soon come to an end, my dear.”

  “I find it hard to believe that you brought me here just to keep me safe.”

  “Not just to keep you safe, no.”

  “Then what? Are you going to kill me?”

  He looked at her, amused. “That would defeat the purpose of keeping you safe, now wouldn’t it? No, as I said in my letter, which you so unceremoniously cast aside, I merely wish to speed things up and put an end to all this in-fighting. I would have brought you here before, of course, but your security was heightened rather significantly, I must say. Which is why I needed your brother. It took him awhile to come around, but I’ve learned that most people can be…persuaded, if you know what’s important to them.”

  “So you’re using me to get to Brogan,” she said.

  “You always were a smart girl.” Lorcan started to pace around the small room. Several small doors lined the walls. She wondered where they went, and if she might be able to escape through one of them. “He’s quite safe at the moment,” Lorcan continued. “I have given explicit orders that he is not to be killed. I need him alive to open the sidhe, you understand. If he refuses, I’ll have no choice but to kill him, then I can open the sidhe. I’ll kill him eventually, anyway—it will be much more convenient to be able to open the sidhe whenever I want than to force him to do it each time I need to travel. But he is still quite beloved, oddly enough, so I need to solidify my position as king first.” He stopped pacing and gave her a sharp look, as though just remembering she was there. “However, he has proven more elusive than I had anticipated. A slippery eel, your husband, though of course, you already knew that. Anyway, I grow weary of this game of hide and seek. So I’ve decided to speed things up. He’s welcome to make a trade—himself for his wife and child.”

  “He won’t do it—he won’t let you massacre innocent people just to save my life,” Kier seethed.

  “Hmm, he might. He’s so noble, after all. But let’s say you’re right, and he cares even less about you than we already thought. No matter. You have provided me with a back-up plan.”

  “And what is that?”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out already. You told me yourself that the child you carry is Brogan’s. Which means the chances are very strong your child will also have the ability to open the sidhe. Tell me, you haven’t named her yet, have you?”

  “You…monster,” she said, backing away until she hit a wall. “You swore I wouldn’t be harmed!”

  “But I didn’t say anything about the little princess inside you,” he said. “We should be able to extract the child with no lasting damage to you. In fact…” He stared at her shrewdly. “I believe I may have had things backward. Brogan should be my back-up plan, not the child. If it turns out the infant does not have her father’s gift, then I’m quite certain he will still exchange his life for yours.”

  “Lorcan, listen to yourself! This isn’t you!” Kier screamed.

  “Oh, it is me,” he said. “It’s what I should have been all along, if I’d had the nerve to use my gift to its full potential.”

  “I don’t believe that,” she said, shaking her head. “The man I loved was gentle and kind; he would never have killed an innocent child.”

  “I wasn’t gentle; I was afraid,” he spat. “Did you think I would cherish the child you had with another lover? Her death will give our people a new future. Sacrifices must be made for the greater good, Kier!”

  “You’ve gone insane,” she said. “Please, if you ever loved me at all, don’t do this!” Her mind was reel
ing, and inside the baby was thrashing so much Kier could barely draw breath. She could feel the weight of her starstone around her neck, but she dared not use it to contact Brogan, lest Lorcan see where he was. If Brogan knew she was in danger, he would come to her at once, which was exactly what Lorcan wanted. There must be another way, she thought frantically. Her hands were burning, and she longed to let loose a torrent of flame that would consume everyone in this place. But Felix had warned her to not use her fire gift while she was pregnant, for fear that the baby would not survive the heat generated in her body. Still…if she didn’t, her child would die anyway.

  “Looking for an escape?” Lorcan asked. “You wouldn’t get very far, even if you managed to find one. The woods are peppered with my soldiers.”

  Kier took a deep breath, and raised her arms.

  “You could try that, of course,” Lorcan said almost lazily. “I’m surprised you haven’t already, to tell you the truth. I wanted a chance to show off my latest ability.”

  “What ability?” she asked, lowering her arms.

  “A little something Gorman gave me. Just yesterday, in fact.”

  “Gorman? No.” Gorman and his wife Siesyll were friends of hers. Gorman had always laughed about how useless his ability was—an invisible shield of protection. He had joked that he needed to make more enemies so he could use it once in a while.

  “Mm-hm. So you can burn this whole place down if you’d like. I’ll still be here, waiting.”

  “I won’t let you harm my child,” Kier said, her fists clenched and her eyes blazing.

  “You don’t have much of a choice,” Lorcan said. He walked slowly toward her, and she looked desperately for a way of escape. “We could do it now. The healer in this fortress is much more talented than that oaf Felix. He’ll make sure you don’t feel a thing. When you wake up, I will have your daughter’s power.”