Also by Megan Chance
YOUNG ADULT FICTION
THE FIANNA TRILOGY
The Shadows
The Web
ADULT FICTION
Inamorata
Bone River
City of Ash
Prima Donna
The Spiritualist
An Inconvenient Wife
Susannah Morrow
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2015 Megan Chance
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Skyscape, New York
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Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Skyscape are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13 (hardcover): 9781503945715
ISBN-10 (hardcover): 1503945715
ISBN-13 (paperback): 9781503945722
ISBN-10 (paperback): 1503945723
Cover illustration by Don Sipley
Cover design by Regina Flath
For Maggie and Cleo
Start Reading
Cast of Characters
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
And down the river’s dim expanse—
Like some bold seër in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance—
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right—
The leaves upon her falling light—
Through the noises of the night
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.
“The Lady of Shalott”
—Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Cast of Characters
[AND PRONUNCIATION GUIDE]
–––– THE KNOX FAMILY ––––
Grainne Alys Knox [GRAW-nya]—Grace
Aidan Knox—Grace’s brother, and the Fianna’s stormcaster
Maeve Knox—Grace’s mother
Brigid Knox—Grace’s grandmother
–––– THE DEVLIN FAMILY ––––
Patrick Devlin
Lucy Devlin—Patrick’s sister
Sarah Devlin—Patrick’s mother
–––– THE FIANNA (FINN’S WARRIORS) ––––
Diarmid Ua Duibhne [DEER-mid O’DIV-na]—Derry O’Shea
Finn MacCumhail [FINN MacCOOL]—Finn MacCool, the leader of the Fianna
Oscar
Ossian [USH-een]—Oscar’s father
Keenan
Goll
Conan
Cannel Flannery—Seer
–––– THE FENIAN BROTHERHOOD [FEE-NIAN] ––––
Rory Nolan
Simon MacRonan—Seer
Jonathan Olwen
–––– THE FOMORI ––––
Daire Donn [DAW-re DON]
Lot
Tethra
Bres
Miogach [MYEE-gok]
Balor
–––– IN LEGEND ––––
Tuatha de Dannan [TOO-a-ha dae DONN-an]—the old, revered gods of Ireland, the people of the goddess Danu
Aengus Og [ENGUS OG]—Irish god of love, Diarmid’s foster father
Manannan [MANanuan]—Irish god of the sea, Diarmid’s former tutor
The Morrigan—Irish goddess of war; her three aspects: Macha [MOK-ah], Nemain [NOW-mn], and Badb [BIBE]
Danu—Irish mother goddess
Domnu—Mother goddess of the Fomori
Neasa [NESSA]—the Fianna’s Druid priestess
Cormac—ancient High King of Ireland
Grainne [GRAW-nya]—Cormac’s daughter, promised in marriage to Finn, eloped with Diarmid
King of Lochlann—Miogach’s father
Glasny [GLASH-neh]—Neasa’s protector
Tuama [TOO-uhm-ma]—Archdruid in Neasa’s stronghold
Bile [BEL]—Irish father of the gods, husband of Danu
Cliodna [KLEE-uh-na]—Irish goddess of beauty who was taken from her mortal lover by a great wave sent by Manannan, which brought her back to the Otherworld (Cliodna’s Wave)
Slieve Lougher [Sleeve Lawker]—a mountain in ancient Ireland where the three sea champions released their vicious hounds to chase Diarmid and Grainne
–––– OTHER PEOPLE ––––
Rose Fitzgerald—Grace’s best friend
Miles—member of the Dun Rats gang
Bridget—woman who sheltered Diarmid and Grace in Brooklyn
Roddy—former archdruid, owner of Roddy’s Grotto pawnshop
Stag—a sailor transformed into a stag
Cuan [KOO-awn]—a cheat transformed into a whippet
Torcan [TURK-awn]—a thief transformed into a boar
Leonard—Patrick’s carriage driver
–––– THE SIDHE [SHEE] ––––
Battle Annie—queen of the river pirates
Sarnat [SAWR-nit]—member of the river pirates, Grace’s guard
Iobhar [EE-ver]—archdruid
Deirdre—leader of a sidhe gang
Turgen—Deirdre’s lover and member of the river pirates gang
–––– OTHER WORDS ––––
a leanbh [ah LON-a]—oh child
ball seirce [ball searce]—the lovespot bestowed on Diarmid
cainte [KINE-tay]—one who speaks/sees, Druid poet
deogbaire—[DEI-baw-ray] Druid potion maker
dord fiann [dord FEEN]—Finn’s hunting horn
éicse [AYK-sha]—Druid concept meaning “the truth of all things”
geis [GISE]—a prohibition or taboo that compels the person to obey
milis [MILL-ish]—sweet, an endearment
mo chroi [muh CREE]—my heart, an endearment
morai [MO-ree]—grandmother
ogham—ancient form of Irish writing
Samhain [SOW-in]—ancient Celtic festival, October 31
veleda—ancient Druid priestess; h
er three aspects: eubages (Seer), brithem (Judge), and vater (Prophet)
New York City
July 28, 1874
Grace
Even at night, the Buttermilk Channel was alive with steamers and sloops, their lanterns and gas lamps twinkling through the darkness like stars. The water lapped against the hull of Battle Annie’s sloop; the sail fluttered in the light wind. Beyond, Manhattan was a web of lights resting upon shadows.
The moonlight glittered on the water; a full, bright moon that reminded me of the girl I’d once been, standing in my backyard, wishing for romance, for adventure.
So much had happened since then, and yet it had been little more than a month since my fiancé, Patrick Devlin, had told me that he and the Fenian Brotherhood had called the legendary Irish warriors, the Fianna, to help them win Ireland’s freedom from British rule, and that I was the veleda priestess whose destiny was tied to theirs.
But things hadn’t worked out as the Brotherhood had planned, and when the Fianna failed to appear, the Brotherhood called the ancient Irish gods of chaos, the Fomori—the enemies of the Fianna. Now the veleda—I—had to choose which of them was worthy: the Fianna or the Fomori. I had to die to release my power to my choice. Patrick and the Fomori had promised to find a way to save me. But that was before one of the Fianna, Diarmid Ua Duibhne, had kidnapped me. Before I’d fallen in love with him. Before being with him had proved to be the key to unlocking the power I now felt coursing through my veins.
Everything had changed. The only thing I knew for certain was that I must find the archdruid my grandmother said would help me. I hoped he would know a spell to change my fate. The prophecy that bound me said the ritual must take place on Samhain—only three months from now, October 31, when the veil between worlds thins—and Diarmid must be the one to kill me.
“Fate is ever-changing,” Diarmid had said. I hoped he was right.
“You’re sure the archdruid is here?” asked Battle Annie as she came up beside me. The river pirate queen glowed silver, as did all the children of the sidhe—the fairies—to my eyes. They were dangerous to me, to anyone with Druid blood. Though their touch could siphon my power and leave me a shell, I was not afraid of them tonight. The sidhe on this boat would not hurt me. I’d made an alliance with their queen.
I told her, “The ogham stick said he was. ‘The rivers guard treasures with no worth.’ He’s in a pawnshop somewhere near here.”
She smiled. It was horrifying—her two front teeth had been filed into points. Her braided hair, decorated with beads and feathers, and the tattoos on her cheek and arms, only added to the gruesome effect. “So you found the key to decipher it.”
“Yes. I found the key.” Diarmid. I hadn’t waited for him to return to Governors Island, where we’d been hiding, because I couldn’t let my love for him or anyone else influence what I had to do now. The thought of him made me ache.
Battle Annie gazed out at the dark harbor. “Seems odd we haven’t felt your Druid if he’s here in Corlears Hook.”
I stifled a shudder. I couldn’t pretend I was glad to be going there. Corlears Hook had been a nasty place even before the depression. It was a haven for thieves and for other river pirates.
It wasn’t just the gangs that worried me. There were sidhe everywhere now, more every day, drawn by the magic of the Fianna and the Fomori, by me and my older brother, Aidan, who’d discovered he was a stormcaster and joined with the Fianna.
But I didn’t have a choice. If the archdruid was in Corlears Hook, it was where I must go.
The sloop rounded the Battery. The East River was crowded with boats and ships. As we approached the pier, my nervousness grew.
Battle Annie whistled a command. “I’m sending a guard with you. This is Sarnat.”
A girl appeared at the railing beside us, so quickly that it startled me. She was tall, but very slight, with pale skin like all the sidhe and translucent, eerie eyes. Her hair was light and straight and fine. She had a sharp face—high cheekbones, a pointed nose and chin—and she wore a ragged, too-short dress and dusty boots. Her silvery glow made her look even more delicate. She was to be my guard? She looked as if I could pass my hand right through her. But I wasn’t stupid enough to complain. And at least she could turn anyone who troubled us into a stag or a boar. It was better than nothing, but I wished for one of the boys climbing the rigging.
Battle Annie said, “You’ll do well together, I think.”
Sarnat’s gaze was open and curious. I felt her yearning for my power, though she made no move to touch me.
“You’ll accompany the veleda to the archdruid,” Battle Annie said to her. “And keep her safe until she has no more need.”
“Archdruid?” Sarnat’s pale brow rose. “Where is there such a thing?”
Battle Annie said, “She knows.”
The sloop maneuvered easily through the crowded river, and then we were docking at a falling-down pier poking from a cluster of darkened buildings.
Sidhe sailors jumped onto the pier, which tilted and creaked. Battle Annie said, “Keep Sarnat near, veleda.”
“I will.”
“Don’t forget our bargain.”
“You have my word.” In return for her help, Battle Annie expected me to use my power for telling truth from lies to aid her in ruling her gang. Assuming that the power grew stronger under an archdruid’s training, and that I was still alive to use it, which was no small thing and hardly certain. “I’ve just one more request. The Fianna and the Fomori will come looking for me. Don’t tell them where I am.”
Battle Annie’s sloe eyes sharpened. “Your Diarmid too?”
I wished the sound of his name did not hurt. “Him too.”
She nodded. “As you wish, veleda.”
I heard the thunk of the boarding plank as it hit the pier, and one of the boys called out, “’Tis ready!” and I steadied myself. The pier was empty, the streets beyond dark.
Sarnat jumped onto the pier, making hardly a noise, and I gathered my courage and followed her. The sloop departed, leaving the two of us standing alone.
Loud voices and arguing escaped from the saloon at the end of the pier. Sarnat walked, and I followed again, jumping at a sudden scrabbling that came from beneath the dock.
“What was that?”
Sarnat shrugged. “Rats.”
We were almost to the end of the pier when I heard the scrabbling again, but this time a shadow appeared with it, a moving, gray mass that surged from underneath the dock, creeping over the edges, swarming to block our way. Gang boys, dozens of them, forming a gauntlet. Some were chuckling, one or two calling out, “Look at that, boys, somethin’ sweet for bedtime” and “Come on over, lass, ’n’ give us a kiss!”
I remembered what gang boys had nearly done to me once before. I looked at Sarnat, who looked at me.
“Come on, sweetie! Ah, don’t stop! Come on now.” One of them made clicking noises, as if he were calling a dog.
Sarnat said, “Well?”
“Well what?” I whispered back.
“Aren’t you going to raise a storm?”
“A storm?”
“You’re a veleda, aren’t you? Rain’ll send them back into hiding. Go on.”
“I can’t raise a storm,” I said.
Sarnat frowned. “Well, then, what can you do?”
“Are ya comin’ to us, or are we goin’ to have to come for ya?” The boys sauntered toward us without waiting for an answer.
“I can’t do anything,” I snapped at Sarnat. I glanced over the edge of the dock, thinking it might be possible to jump and run, but there were boys there, too, cutting off escape. I knew already that screaming would be no help. It had only caused people to turn away last time, and Corlears Hook was an even worse part of town.
Sarnat looked incredulous. “Nothing? What kind of veleda are you?” She sighed heavily, as if I were the greatest disappointment to her. “Come on, then.”
She began to walk toward the boys. I
could only trail after, my heart thudding. The boys’ catcalling grew louder and more obscene. As we walked, they drew in, surrounding us, jostling and pushing. Sarnat kept walking, her gaze straight ahead. I did the same.
Then we reached the wall of boys. The others gathered closer, penning us in.
“Well, well,” said a snaggletoothed boy, obviously the leader. He stepped in front of Sarnat, forcing her to stop—and me with her. “Lookee what the river brought.”
“Let us pass,” Sarnat said.
The boy laughed. The others echoed him. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
People staggered out of the saloon and went about their business as if it were a usual thing to see two girls surrounded by gang boys bent on rape. Probably it was. The arguing from the saloon grew louder.
“I’m askin’ you once more, you stupid rabbit. Let us pass, before you regret it,” Sarnat said.
“Oh, look at that! Ain’t it cute, lads? This mab thinkin’ to scare us?” The leader leaned close to Sarnat, his face less than an inch from hers. “We’ll be gettin’ our hide today, lass. I’ll take this one. Who wants the other?”
Sarnat’s movement was so quick I didn’t see her knife until she’d gutted him with it. The boy’s eyes grew wide, his mouth gaped. He looked down at the cut she’d made in his stomach, grabbing at it with both hands before he collapsed, sprawling onto the wharf.
“She’s killed ’im!” cried one of the boys.
Sarnat brandished the bloody dagger, her smile thin and humorless. “He won’t be the only one either, if you don’t let us go. Anyone else care to try?”
Some of them backed away. One called, “Come on, boys, what, you feared of a little flimp? We can take ’em. There’s only two!”
“Aye, but one’s got a sting,” said another.
Sarnat stabbed at the nearest boy, who fell into the others in his rush to avoid her knife. “You going to let us pass, or do I have to skewer another one?” she asked.
I was grabbed from behind so hard that my breath rushed from my lungs.
“I got this one! An’ she’s got no—”
Sarnat twisted around, her knife at his throat, slashing before he had a chance to release me. Hot blood gushed over my shoulder, spattering my face, and the boy’s hold eased; he fell against me and then thudded onto the dock. I stared in speechless horror.
Four of them rushed her. Sarnat turned into a lunging dervish, her pale hair whipping about her face. None of them could hold her. One boy grabbed her around the throat, and she went down on one knee, flipping him. In the same motion, she slammed the heel of her hand into another boy’s nose—he howled and fell away. Another collapsed from a kick in the groin. Two others were slashed and bleeding. All around her, boys lay writhing and groaning. Ten of them, I counted, before she crouched, breathless, knife gleaming in the moonlight. “Anyone else?”