A Place Beyond: Book 3 (The Danaan Trilogy) Read online

  A Place Beyond

  Book Three of The Danaan Trilogy

  Copyright ©2014 by Laura Howard

  Formatting by CL Foster of Phoenix’s Quill Formatting

  Publishing by Finding Bliss Publishing

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of the book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products references in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Pronunciation Guide

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Ackowledgments

  About the Author

  For my Dad,

  for always believing I could be

  more than I believed I could.

  1

  Liam {Lee-um}

  Niamh {Neev}

  Aoife {Ay-fuh}

  Breanh {Bran}

  Diarmuid {Der-mott}

  Niall {Neal}

  Bláithín {Blaw-heen}

  Eithne {En-ya}

  Aodhan {Ay-den}

  Saoirse {Sare-shuh}

  Deaghlan {Deck-lun}

  Ciarán {Kee-run}

  Seamus {Shay-mus}

  Padraigh {Pad-ric}

  Máiréad {Mah-re-ad}

  Geis {Gesh}

  Tír na n’Óg {Tur-na-nog}

  Bruidhean {Brood-ian}

  Fháillan {Fah-lan}

  Magh Mell {Mah Mell}

  I drew in a deep breath as I recalled the expression on my father’s face as he fell into the depthless canyon of the fháillan mine.

  Liam’s dead.

  No. That couldn’t be right. Not after everything that had happened. How could he have found my mother and me only to be ripped away so suddenly?

  I stared at the small patch of moonlight on my bedroom floor. It was only eight o’clock, but it was completely dark outside. The absence of crickets and peepers felt unnatural, the silence suffocating. The change of seasons seemed abrupt after being in Tír na n’Óg. A few days in the other realm had been weeks here and it was already the second week of November.

  I rested my chin on my forearms and closed my eyes. When I’d walked through the front door in the afternoon, I’d expected the worst. I’d been sure because of the geis, my mother would be lost forever in the recesses of her mind. Or worse.

  But she’d appeared just as always. Heartbreakingly beautiful, yet empty. She was tuning her violin in the den when I’d come in. Her blonde hair forming a curtain over her face as she concentrated on the instrument in her hands. When I’d cleared my throat to let her know I was there, she’d startled and jerked in my direction. She looked at me without really seeing me, her green eyes hollow and emotionless.

  For almost as long as I could remember, this was how my mother was. She’d been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia when I was only a small child.

  Even though I knew it was because of the geis, the ancient curse placed on my parents, and not actually schizophrenia, a tiny voice in the back of my mind still cringed at the thought of my mother as a normal young woman. I still had deep feelings of guilt. Before I was born, she was a bright student in the prime of her life.

  And now, with Liam gone, she would never be that woman again.

  It had been an awkward dinner for me after being away. While I’d been in Tír na n’Óg, someone had been here in my place. One of the Danaan glamoured, or disguised, to look and talk just like me. She’d worked at the hardware store my grandfather owned, she’d eaten the food my grandmother cooked. She’d even slept in my bed. I felt like I might mess up the whole ruse if I said or did the wrong thing.

  Claiming a headache, I’d managed to slip up to my room without Gram fussing too much. It hadn’t really been a stretch to say my head hurt. Being in this world again caused me to feel worn thin and disoriented. It was worse this time than before. Maybe because I’d gone back and forth twice in such a short period of time.

  The silence in my bedroom felt like it was closing in on me. I couldn’t go for a run, not after I’d come to bed with a headache. But there was no way I was going to be able to sleep. I needed a distraction.

  I pulled my phone from my nightstand and stared at it. There was only one person I could count on to divert my attention from this endless self-reproach.

  “Hey you.” Ethan picked up after just one ring. Just hearing his low, familiar voice was almost enough to make me smile.

  “Tell me a joke,” I said, climbing onto my bed. “Distract me.”

  “Okay. I can do that, give me a minute.” He chuckled. “All right, it’s not my best, but it’ll have to do. This guy calls 911 and the operator says ‘State your emergency.’ The guy says ‘I need help! Two girls are fighting over me!’ The operator groans and says ‘Sir, what is the emergency?’ And the guy says ‘The ugly one’s winning!’”

  The joke was so bad I actually laughed. “That was perfect. Thank you.”

  “You hanging in there?” he asked, all signs of joking leaving his voice.

  I sighed. “I’m trying.”

  “Well, sounds like you need to try harder. I can hear you beating yourself up from here.”

  “I know. I don’t want to talk about any of that right now. I was hoping you could help.”

  He was quiet for a minute and I started to regret saying it. Ethan had a particular way of twisting my words.

  “How about I tell you a story? One I’ve never told anyone,” he said. “Do you remember in middle school when we went to that amusement park, the one with those really old roller coasters?”

  “Of course. It was Rocky Point. We went at the end of every school year.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. So, this one year it was hot the day we went. It must have been 95 degrees or something. I remember waiting in line about half the day to get ice cream. Do you remember?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Nobody even wanted to go on any rides. It was too hot.”

  “Well, I was in the ice cream line about four or five people behind you. You probably didn’t even know who I was back then.”

  I laughed, mostly to myself. Because I certainly did know who Ethan Magliaro was. I couldn’t think back to a time when I didn’t have a crush on our town’s biggest flirt. I remembered freaking out that he was standing so close to me. Not that I’d ever admit it to him.

  “So you ordered your ice cream and were waiting at the pick-up window. The mom in front of you handed her little boy his cone, and a second later the ice cream fell to the ground.”

  “Yes, that was awful.”

  “And I’ll never forget the look on that kid’s face when you gave him your ice cream.”

  I felt the blush creeping up my neck. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew what his expression was. His deep brown eyes daring me to argue.

  “It wasn’t a big
deal.” I laughed and bit my lip.

  “Al?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “It was then that I knew. I knew no matter what, I was going to make you mine. And I’ve never forgotten.”

  I was speechless. There were so many times Ethan had said things like that over the years, loaded with sarcasm and mischief. But this time he sounded sincere. And for just a moment I couldn’t think of a single thing I wanted more than for it to be true.

  But it was a short-lived moment. “You’ve definitely distracted me,” I said.

  The spell he’d cast disappeared and he sighed. “I’m glad. But I’m serious, you know.”

  I swallowed and whispered, “Thank you.”

  I’m walking in a dark chamber. The smell of still water and minerals fills my nose. I can’t see where I’m going, but I can tell there is a faint light ahead. My feet slip on something wet and I catch myself on a sharp rock jutting out of the wall.

  A series of deep coughs echo through the rock cavern. The further I walk, the louder the coughing gets.

  The light grows brighter and I come to a place where it bounces off the damp cave walls.

  When I round the corner, Liam is there, on his hands and knees. His body is twisted in pain as he tries to catch his breath between coughs.

  I look on in horror and the sound changes, becomes distinctly feminine. I’m confused as I look at my father on the cave floor but the sound morphs to that of my mother coughing.

  Clutching the blanket in my fists, I jolted upright. My bedroom was quiet. Seconds later, another cough came from across the hall.

  I hurried into my mother’s room to make sure she was okay. She lay on her side, her small frame racked with a cough that sounded as though it would split her in two.

  I disentangled the blankets that had become wrapped around her legs. I tried to help her sit up as she caught her breath.

  “Oh, dear. It sounds like someone has a cold,” Gram said from behind me as she went to the other side of my mother’s bed.

  I propped the pillow behind her and stepped away as my grandmother put her hand on Mom’s forehead.

  “Would you mind getting some of the cough suppressant from the medicine cabinet, Allie-girl?” Gram said. Just my grandmother’s presence seemed to soothe her.

  I blinked and nodded, the adrenaline draining from my system as I left the room. In that second between dreaming and waking, I’d thought maybe Liam was still alive. That maybe I was having some sort of vision.

  The reality was my mother just had a cold and my subconscious was playing tricks on me. My father was dead and I was grieving.

  I turned on the tap in the bathroom and splashed a little water on my face before grabbing the medicine. I couldn’t help noticing my skin was pinched and ghost-white. My eyes were sunken in, like they belonged to someone twice my age. I shook my head and flipped the switch.

  Gram met my eyes as I walked back into the bedroom. Her silvery brows were drawn together in concern. I attempted to smooth my expression.

  “You look tired, Allison. Why don’t you go back to bed? You mother will be just fine.”

  I almost argued, but Gram wasn’t asking. She would take things from here. Nodding, I mumbled a good night and went back to bed.

  I opened my eyes and blinked at the figure sitting on the edge of my bed. I zeroed in on the steaming mug in his hand.

  “Ethan,” I said, my voice raspy from sleep. “What are you doing?”

  “Well,” he said, and his face broke out into a grin. “I stopped for breakfast this morning and wanted to bring you something before I head to work.”

  I threw my blankets off and nearly spilled the contents of the coffee mug.

  “What do you have there?” I asked.

  “Your grandfather warned me not to wake you unless I was armed with caffeine. So here you go.”

  I grabbed the mug and immediately took a sip. “Thank you. This is so good.”

  “There are muffins downstairs, too,” he said with a crooked smile.

  My eyes widened. “What’s that all about?”

  He shook his head and held up his hands in surrender. “I just wanted to say good morning.”

  My lips turned up against the mug. “I’m sorry. That was really nice of you.”

  “No problem. But there is one other thing,” he began, his smile faltering.

  “Okay,” I said, turning and putting my feet on the floor. “Let’s hear it.”

  Ethan sucked in a deep breath and stared at me for several seconds. “Jeff said you and Nicole have plans to go dress shopping this afternoon.”

  “Dress shopping,” I sighed, shaking my head. “Just what I want to do today.”

  “You know, the one good part of spending all that time in Tír na n’Óg is that you missed a couple months of wedding plans.”

  “Nicole will go all bridezilla on me if I shirk my maid of honor duties.”

  “But first,” he said, reaching for my hand and pulling me to feet. “You need a muffin. Come on.”

  My grandfather stood hunched over the kitchen sink when we walked in. When I pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, he straightened and turned to face us.

  “Good morning, you two.”

  “Morning, Pop,” I said, grabbing an apple spice muffin out of the little white pastry bag. “Has Mom been up yet?”

  Pop pursed his lips. “Your grandmother is up with her. She had a rough night, I guess.”

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “I heard her up coughing.”

  “I’m sure it’s just a bug. Your mom’ll be just fine.”

  I nodded, but the image of Liam on all fours clouded my mind. Ethan’s brow furrowed when I caught him watching my reaction.

  Just then, coughing came from upstairs and I could hear Gram speaking softly to my mother. When they made their way into the kitchen, Mom wasn’t coughing anymore, though her normally flawless skin was colorless.

  “How’s the patient this morning?” Pop asked, winking at my mother as she sat across from me.

  Gram patted Mom’s back and smiled. “She’s got herself the first cold of the season, it seems.”

  “Ethan brought us a little treat, Beth. How about a muffin?” Pop asked, pulling a blueberry streusel muffin out and placing it in front of my mother.

  She nodded and picked a piece off the top. Another wave of coughing seized her and the muffin crumbled in her fingers.

  I bit my lip as my mother hunched over in her chair. “Did she take any more of that medicine?” I asked, glancing at Gram.

  “I just gave her some before we came down, as a matter of fact.”

  Ethan nudged my muffin toward me and gave me a pointed look.

  “Well, it’s time for me to head to work,” he said, pushing away from the table and gesturing for me to follow.

  I stood and walked with him out the front door as my grandparents said goodbye.

  “Thanks for bringing the muffins,” I said, leaning a hip on the porch railing as he walked down the stairs. “That was sweet of you.”

  Ethan turned, shaking his head. “It’s not a big deal.”

  I looked away. “So, where are you working today?”

  “I’ll be spending most of the day in the office,” he said walking a few steps back to the porch. “Paperwork, the bane of my existence.”

  “Can’t be worse than shopping for bridesmaid dresses,” I said.

  He reached up and laced his fingers through mine. “Well, then. Seems we owe it to ourselves to do something special tonight.”

  The way he said things like “we” and “ourselves” did something strange and lovely to my heart. I found myself squeezing his fingers, and swallowing hard.

  He cocked his head to the side. “Your mom seems okay. I mean, besides the cough, right?”

  I nodded, pursing my lips.

  “You’re still beating yourself up about Liam.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I guess.” My voice was rough and I stared at the
ground so he couldn’t see the tears blurring my vision.

  “Hey,” he said, tugging on my hand. “It’s all right. Look at me.”

  I ran a hand across my eyes and tried to smile. “Sorry,” I said, feeling ridiculous.

  “I’ll come over after work… about 6:30?”

  I nodded, giving him a watery smile. “Okay.”

  Just after seven, I hit the road for my morning run. The cool autumn air smelled of damp leaves and wood smoke. My usual route wound up into the rural sector of Stoneville where you could go miles between houses. I stuck in my earbuds as I warmed up and cranked the volume. Trees and farmland blurred as I tore along my path, oblivious to the world beyond the angry beat of the music in my ears.

  I turned down the wooded shortcut that would bring me down through the cemetery hills. As I broke off the dirt path and onto the paved cemetery road, I felt a presence beside me. I turned my head and nearly tripped over my own feet when I saw Niamh running. Her eyes were on the road ahead, as though she’d been running by my side the entire time.

  “You’re becoming rather efficient at blocking me,” she said. Her voice was calm and steady, not the slightest bit winded.

  I was running too fast to have a conversation out loud and concentrated on opening my mind to her. I just needed a little break.

  Ah, I understand, she said in my mind. Niamh was a telepath. She was able to hear my thoughts, which I found disconcerting and downright annoying. At the moment, however, it was the only way I could communicate. I may have some trace of Danaan blood flowing in my veins, but not enough to keep me from panting and sweating like any other human.

  You could have just called me, I thought.

  I do not like telephones, she thought with distaste.

  I rolled my eyes and glanced over at her. Her pale, golden hair was pulled into a smooth ponytail. It swished back and forth in time as she ran. She wore a perfect fitting baby blue velour jogging suit. Her face showed no signs of strain as we ran.

  I wanted to let you know I’ll be going to Thunder Bay.