The Shadows by Megan Chance Read Free Book Online Page A

wall.
    “What?” Finn’s gaze followed Cannel’s. “What is it? What do you see?”
    “I think it’s him,” Cannel said.
    “Diarmid? What about him?”
    “Diarmid?” Something flashed in Cannel’s eyes, some troubling understanding. He looked again at the cards, turning up another, frowning more deeply. “Yes. A dark-haired young man with blue eyes. And . . . and a spear. A bad death.”
    Diarmid’s gut began to churn.
    Oscar said with a nudge, “Well, that would be you, wouldn’t it, Derry? What does it say about him?”
    “That he’s been chosen.” Cannel pursed his lips. “There’s a prophecy. A promise.”
    Finn’s gaze hardened. Diarmid’s dread grew as his leader took a few steps toward him. “What prophecy would that be, my friend?” Finn asked very, very softly. “What promise?”
    “Something about this
veleda
.” Cannel looked up from the cards. “His aspect surrounds her.”
    Diarmid’s mouth went dry. He’d faced a hundred warriors alone, warring kings and thundering gods and vengeful men shape-changed into angry boars. But Finn’s measuring expression was worse than all of them.
    Diarmid wanted to turn away, but he pulled himself off the wall, standing straight. “There was a prophecy. Manannan told it to me. There was no
veleda
then—it didn’t matter. I’d forgotten it.”
    Finn waited.
    “He—he told me that it was by my hand that the
veleda
must die. That if I didn’t do this, we would fail, even if she’d chosen us.”
    “I see.” Finn’s expression was grim. “And you didn’t think it important enough to tell me before now?”
    “Do you see a
veleda
?” Diarmid asked evenly. “Where is she? Even he”—Diarmid pointed to Cannel—“can’t see where she is. I would have mentioned it once we found her. Once she chose.”
    “I should have known this before.”
    “How does it matter if we don’t find her?” Diarmid asked.
    “And if we do?” Finn countered. “Can you look into pretty eyes and wield a knife, Diarmid?”
    It was a fair question. Girls were his weakness. They had always been. “She’s a
veleda
,” Diarmid said. “She’ll know what has to be done, won’t she? ’Tisn’t as if I’ll be killing an innocent.”
    “Killing an innocent?” Cannel’s voice went high. “You mean to
kill
her?”
    “Can you do it?” Finn demanded again.
    Diarmid heard the challenge. He met Finn’s gaze. “Aye. I can do it.”
    Cannel rose. “Look, I want no part of this. Not killing. I don’t know what you need with this
veleda
, but—”
    Finn set his hand on Cannel’s shoulder, pushing him down. “Shall I tell you who we truly are,
cainte
? You’re a Flannery, aren’t you? Have you heard of the Fianna? Of Ossian and Oscar? Diarmid Ua Duibhne?”
    Cannel’s eyes widened. “Yes, of course I have, but—”
    “We are the Fianna,” Finn declared.
    “
The
Fianna? The warriors of the High King? But . . . it’s a tale told to children.”
    “Called back from undying sleep, tasked with helping Ireland in her hour of need,” Finn went on. “The prophecy is laid: when we’re called, the
veleda
must decide whether our fight is worthy. And then she must sacrifice herself to her choice. If she does not choose us, we fail and die.” He paused. “And so we find ourselves in a confusing state. No caller or
veleda
in sight. We don’t know why we were summoned or why the horn broughtus to this place instead of to Ireland. These are things we must discover. And we need your help for it.”
    Cannel looked at each of them. Diarmid felt the truth land on the Seer—settle, stay.
    “Help us find her,” Finn said. “So we can win her power. So we can discover why we’re here and return to Ireland. Once we’re gone, you can go back to your life. We won’t hold you.”
    “You’re the Fianna,” Cannel murmured. “It can’t be true. This isn’t some . . . this is impossible.”
    “Is it?” Finn asked. “What do your cards say?”
    “I