Through the Door (The Thin Veil) - By Jodi McIsaac Page 0,104
searching look, then shook his head. “This is a mistake. I should have come alone. If something goes wrong…” He trailed off, his eyes full of a sudden panic.
Cedar wrapped her arms around his neck. “They think it’s impossible that either one of us could be here,” she said, trying to reassure him. “Even if you’re caught, they’ll think you acted alone. They won’t be looking for me. Do you have the starstone?”
He pulled out the pocket watch and quietly began to sing the song that made both stones glow with a soft light. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his voice, trying to fix it in her mind, hoping she could take that memory with her where she was about to go.
When she opened her eyes, he had stopped singing, and his face was only inches away. Then his lips were crushing hers, and she responded in kind, kissing him as hard and fierce as she could, as if she hoped to make a permanent imprint of herself on his body. When he reluctantly started to pull away, she held onto him.
“Finn,” she said urgently. “If I don’t…if something goes wrong, make sure you think of Eden, not of me. She has to come first, do you understand? No matter what happens. Get her home and take care of her. I know you’ll be a great father. And I forgive you for everything, for leaving, and for not telling me the truth. I know you were just trying to protect me. And now you have to protect her. I’m trusting you with her life. Just…tell her how much I love her, how much I’ve always loved her. Tell her she’s the most important thing in the world to me. You’ll be fine. You’ll both be fine.”
She kissed him again, but softly this time, trying to communicate everything she wanted to say but dared not.
“We’re not saying good-bye,” he said. “We’re all going to be fine. I’m going to save Eden, and we’re all going home together. We’ll get to know each other again. You’ll paint, and we’ll have more children, and we won’t have to worry about any of this.”
She tried to smile at him and control the shaking in her voice. “I know,” she said. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so melodramatic, I’m just nervous. And…I love you. I want to make sure you know that.”
He kissed her forehead and whispered, “I know. I’ll see you soon.” Then he was gone. She couldn’t tell exactly what he had transformed into; all she could see was a small brown shape moving quickly through the dry grass.
As soon as he was out of sight, Cedar crept toward the edge of the trees and peered out. She thought about waiting to see if he did, in fact, succeed. Then she thought of him facing Lorcan, whose power apparently had no limit, and shuddered. No, she had to go through with her plan before both Finn and Eden were killed. She took several steps out into the open, and then stopped. Still she could see no one, so she started jogging in the direction of the Hall. Soon she saw a couple of guards standing by a small side entrance. They saw her coming and tensed, waiting. She saw them exchange a confused glance as they realized she had no Lýra.
She stopped several feet in front of them and then raised her voice and said, “I am the daughter of the true High King, of Brogan and Kier. Take me to Lorcan at once.”
“Fionnghuala.”
Nuala opened her eyes to see Lorcan standing before her. She had fallen asleep, and it took her a moment to remember where she was. Then it came back to her, and she fought back a shudder. She would not show weakness to this bastard, not if she were still determined to conquer him.
“My lord?” she asked. She was lying on a bed in a round, windowless room. She struggled to sit up, a feat made difficult by the chains fastening her wrists to the wall behind her. Lorcan waved his hand, and the chains fell off.
“Crude, I know,” he said, “but you have not yet proven yourself.”
Beside her on the bed lay Eden, fast asleep or drugged or unconscious. Nuala couldn’t tell. The girl was chained, too, both hands and feet, with enough freedom to lie down, sit up, and use the chamber pot under the bed, but not enough to reach