Beyond the Pale: A Thin Veil Novella (The Thin Veil Book 3) by Jodi McIsaac Read Free Book Online Page B

it had been Eolas who had helped Lorcan discover his ability. Perhaps they were closer than he had let on.
    “Yes,” he said, nodding slowly. “I have been to Ériu, like so many others, though not recently, of course. There were many men of great learning there. We were able to glean much from each other.”
    “So then…you respect them. The humans, that is.”
    “I do. Their knowledge is not as vast as ours, but they are a young race, eager for greater understanding. I would not wish to see them harmed.”
    Kier nearly reached out and hugged him across the table, but she restrained herself. “Then you know what I am trying to do,” she said. “I need to find something that will help me persuade our people that revenge is not the answer, that Tír na nÓg is our true home. Or something that can help us defeat Lorcan, if he should rise up against the king.”
    “I have always preferred words to swords and arrows,” Eolas said after a moment of thoughtful silence. He stood and walked over to the curved shelves. There was a tall ladder leading to the upper stacks, but he ignored it and floated up to the top shelf, where he grabbed a small and very grubby book. It was about as big as her hand from fingertip to wrist, bound in dark leather that was dried and cracked in places. Some of the binding was beginning to fray, and Kier could see that it was animal sinew, not leather or fabric. “Were you aware that I have known Lorcan since he was a young man?”
    Kier swallowed. Had she misplaced her confidence in Eolas? “Yes,” she answered. “He told me you helped him identify his ability.”
    “I merely confirmed what he already suspected,” Eolas said. “I have been watching him ever since, wondering what he would do with it. He tries to hide it, but he is hungry for power…for revenge. He has not had an easy life. If I may say so, Your Majesty, you were the best thing that ever happened to him.”
    Kier felt another stab of guilt for the role she had played in Lorcan’s transformation. “And the worst,” she muttered.
    Eolas leaned in close to her, his bug-like eyes blinking calmly. “You made the right choice. He would gone down this path eventually, whether you were with him or not. I am sure of it. He chose this. Not you.”
    Kier stared down at the table, tracing the grain of the wood with her eyes. She knew Eolas meant well, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe him. Lorcan had changed since their parting…she had damaged him. But it was too late now; too many wheels had been set in motion. Even if they caught him, even if he surrendered, she knew things would never go back to the way they had been.
    “Is that book about his ability?” she asked abruptly. “Will it tell us how we can find him?”
    “No,” Eolas said. “But it might help you solve both of your problems.”
    He opened the book gently and turned the pages one by one, until finally he stopped. “Do you know the poet Cairpre mac Edaine?”
    “I’ve heard of him. He was a great sage, but he was killed in the battle of Tailtiu.”
    “It’s strange, you know—the poets on Ériu are considered barely more than common bards. Sometimes even less than that. Perhaps their poets do not possess the gifts of foresight that ours do. And Cairpre mac Edaine was unequalled in this gift. He foresaw our battle with the Formorians—and our victory over them—and also the coming of the Sons of Mil, which ushered in our defeat. He predicted Brighid would leave us before she even considered the idea. I often wonder whether his prophecy is what gave her the courage to make it come true. At any rate, Cairpre mac Edaine’s last prophecy has remained unfilled. And I couldn’t help but think of it when you first told me the plants were being killed by some strange poison.”
    “What is it?” Kier asked, leaning forward.
    Eolas bent his head down and read, “In the words of Cairpre mac Edaine: ‘The dyad that should not be will rise from the