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As the final Celtic day to end the soulfall dawns, the eye of our storm passes. Once again, we stand ready to be battered by the ire of fate. I don’t care. I’m the anamchara of a worthy heart. I vow to all the gods that ever were or ever shall be, I will fulfill my purpose hand-in-hand with my fox.
The Veil binds us together in its myriad colors. Sionnach raises my chin with a knuckle. “I’ve one more wish to ask of you.”
I nod toward our personal wishing seat fading outside the mystical tunnel as we begin to travel. “You’d better hurry.”
“Watch the soulfall to the end. Step outside fear and accept who you’re meant to be.”
The Veil pulses vibrant and alive without breaches or burning flames along the shimmering walls of our passage between today and yesterday.
“I promise to try.”
The light in his eyes dims for a moment before his lips curve into a gentle smile. “I believe in you, Faerie girl.” He claps his hands.
We fall into one final kiss. The Veil guides us. The thought of watching the last soul drop from the tower window sends shivers through me. Sionnach tightens his hold, never to let me fall.
I close my eyes and reach out through this path of mystery to the enigma of Finnbheara.
Mighty king, grant me life beyond the end of the soulfall with this man.
If there is power in the blessing of anamchara, may it find me. As our kiss deepens, so does my resolve to serve the last two souls, whether there’s any left of Eala Duir afterward or not.
Chapter 25
The Last Soul
Breaking and entering is not in my wheelhouse, but Sionnach is quite accomplished at it. I crouch behind a wing chair in Arthur Vicars’s front room on Clonskeagh Road. The place is dark and empty unlike the first time we popped into 1907.
In my hand is a whistle. I’m supposed to blow it when our perp, who we suspect may be the renowned explorer’s brother, goes for the kitchen cabinet where the second key is hidden. Sionnach swears that one long, loud whistle will bring the Dublin Metropolitan Police running.
He’s gone to Dublin Castle to tip off Arthur Vicars about the impending theft. If all goes well, as soon as our target leaves the party to steal the key, Vicars and Sionnach will be close on his heels. I pray the Veil fiend hasn’t anticipated or tracked us. It’s imperative we’ve landed in the right moment to keep Vicars alive.
I’m already shaky when my next thought nearly shatters me. What will I do if we’re forced to confront the evil, and it is Charlie?
Please let Colleen be safe.
My disappearance at Luttrellstown undoubtedly caused enough insanity for Jeremy to put the tour on lockdown. I regret what I’m putting both Colleen and him through.
I wish I’d been able to say goodbye to Colleen, an impossibility with our last Celtic day already at hand. “I’m so sorry, C. I love you, friend—sister.”
I can’t dwell on her life or my life after the soulfall. That’s a guaranteed road to madness.
Footsteps outside send me back into ready position. If the man heads straight for the key cabinet I scoped out in the kitchen, I’ll have a clear shot to run out the front door and blow the whistle. The door creaks and moonlight spills across the sill to reveal not one, but a pair of men stepping into the room.
At first, I think it’s Sionnach and Vicars but realize my error before the door clicks shut. The two throw off their coats and collide in a passionate kiss. I shrink behind the chair in case they turn on the light, but they fall onto a sofa with no intention of flipping any switch but each other’s.
“Are you sure Arthur won’t be walking in that door?” asks a deep male voice.
His paramour answers. “The fool’s held up at the castle. There’s time if we’re royally quick about it.”
The men chuckle.
In a voice that could easily be described as regal, one of them says, “Then kneel before me, knave.”
My chances of escaping unseen are nil. Hopefully, pending sensual activities will relocate so I can grab the key myself and leave through the back door. That will at least keep one of the men from stealing the key. It’ll give Sion and me the chance to reset and Veil travel back to our starting point for another try before the Celtic day ends. Let tonight be a cautionary tale for Vicars to keep the second key in a more secure hiding place. The whole changing history gamble is dicey, but we’re out of time.
Unexpected silence falls over the room. “Did you hear that?” asks one of the men.
I press a hand over my mouth. Am I the sound? Did I breathe too loudly? I raise the whistle to my lips. Raising hell and running are my two options if they discover me.
