Page 12 of The Dark Will Fall (Twilight Lake #5)

Maeve Cruinn

The icy wind sliced my skin like knives, entering my nostrils and filling my lungs with snow as the pale dragon soared through the sky.

I woke to Cormac’s voice ringing in my ears, lost in the roar of the wind from up high.

We sailed above the screaming sea, above the lost souls that reached out. Pleading.

My breath locked in my chest. Worried that the dragon could open its claws at any moment and drop us into the haunted waters below, before I drifted off to sleep. Exhausted by my fear.

I woke as the clouds parted, revealing a sky unlike any I had ever seen before. A living blue flame. More stars, moons, and suns packed into the horizon than I could even count. More than grains of sand on every beach in the Aos Sí.

The land rose up, as if appearing from the shadowy sea. Buildings perched on the edge of a cliff, like mushrooms growing from the side of a tree. Made of shimmering pearl, opal, and sapphire. With wide archways on every balcony, allowing the warm sea air to rush through.

The Aos Sí defied logic sometimes, shaped around the magic of the Fae that resided there. But the building on the cliff defied reality, gravity, and several other immutable forces.

The dragon let out a screech, swooping towards the largest platform. The stone circle extended towards the sea like a bird’s nest. The dragon flared its wings and landed as gracefully as it could, but Cormac and I still tumbled onto the hard stone with a smack and a roll.

I coughed, pressing my hand to my stomach. The dragon had squeezed us in its tight grip for what felt like hours, and I could feel my organs rearranging themselves back into position.

Cormac didn’t fare much better. Rubbing his hands over the deep gorges in his arms, as if he could make the bloody wounds disappear if he rubbed hard enough.

“Do you think it's taken us back to his nest to eat us?” Cormac eyed the dragon as it stretched its wings and roared to the sky.

Both of us winced and covered our ears at the sound.

“You, more than me.” I pointed out. “Being part fish, and all.”

Cormac bared his teeth in a mocking smile.

Someone cleared their throat behind us, though we had been alone only a moment before.

As if given leave, the beast extended its wings and took to the sky without hesitation.

An archway sat where the platform was wedged into the mountain. A robed figure hovered on the threshold. Bald-headed, with pale eyes, unseeing.

“Manannán mac Lir would like to offer his home until the Quorum.” The robed figure spoke in a voice that was neither male nor female. Husky and heavy with burden.

“ Manannán mac Lir ?” Cormac staggered back.

“He is acting King of the Tuatha Dé Danann.” The robed figure said, unblinking. “And tasked with your safety until the meeting.”

“I thought the Dagda was king?” I said without thinking. “And Nuada before that?”

“The Dagda and Nuada do not reside in the Tuatha Dé Danann at this time.” The figure said without emotion. “Come with me.”

Cormac and I exchanged glances.

There were many gods for many things.

Manannán mac Lir was the God of the Sea.

Belisama was the God of the Waves.

Brígid was the God of the Rivers.

Each God held a different domain.

I craned my neck and eyed the dragon sailing away.

The children of Lir were famously known to be able to take the form of a dragon. I hadn’t made a connection between the dragon and Manannán mac Lir.

Manannán mac Lir was not a benevolent god—he had cursed the Mer with their tails, after all.

The robed figure disappeared through the archway, and Cormac and I rushed to follow.

The doorway led to darkness. Cormac placed his hand on the small of my back, the only thing that helped me keep my feet when I tumbled down the first step of the unseen staircase.

The air changed in an instant. From the sunbaked and arid to the damp and familiar.

The walls of the staircase grew slick, wet stone and lichen.

The stairs curved, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. The robed figure was a shadow that seemed to lurk around every corner, its footsteps silent and stealthy.

Cormac and I fumbled our way down the staircase.

The robed figure waited at the bottom, but the lower steps were submerged in seawater.

Barnacles coated the pillars that held up the steps.

The air smelled like saltwater and seaweed.

The water rushed and ebbed like the sea, despite the four walls encasing it.

Our escort stood in the waist-high water, waiting for us.

The water was cloudy enough that I couldn’t see the bottom. Though I trusted the depth, I had no idea what lurked below.

Cormac must have had the same idea as me, because his hand hovered over his hip. Reaching for a weapon that was no longer there.

The room held no adornments, save for an open door on the other end. Four plain stone walls, the carvings long faded away. Through the door was another room just like the one we had left, and then another, and another. An endless corridor.

The robed figure took a single step and sank into the depths. A moment passed, and they didn’t surface.

“I think he wants us to follow,” I said.

Cormac gulped. “Losing my tail has become quite the burden.”

“Manannán mac Lir wouldn’t let us die. Would he?” My nose wrinkled.

Cormac shook his head and scoffed. “I think I’m a bit superfluous here, Princess.”

“Big words.”

“I know all the big words.” He grinned. “I’ve got some more if you’re feeling—”

The robed figure broke the surface. Unamused. “Follow me.”

I bit back a smile and dropped to my knees, sinking under the water.

Cormac followed, holding his breath.

Though the room had a floor, there was a hole in the center of it. Though I didn’t know how deep.

Worry pinged in my chest, like the string of a fiddle.

Will Cormac be okay ?

The robed figure dove into the hole. It was wide enough that Cormac and I swam side by side.

Darkness swallowed me. Fear stole the breath from gills.

The world turned on its head. One moment, we swam downwards, and then we broke the surface.

My head spun and my eyes blurred as I tried to comprehend how the floor had become the ceiling. But no answer made sense.

We climbed out of the hole.

Our clothes were dry.

The sky stretched as far as the eye could see, but it was neither the darkness of the Night Court nor the blue, clear sky over the lagoon.

Clouds rolled and tumbled over each other, shades of unforgiving grey. Angry as they clashed. A fissure of blue lit up the sky, zigzagging through the tumult. Dark and stormy, but still light enough to be day.

Cormac gestured toward the strange lights. I nodded, but my eyes were wide with disbelief. I had never seen lightning quite like that before.

We were no longer in a building, but on a beach of shale. A lake surrounded by mountains, coated in green trees.

A single figure stood in the middle of the lake, on the water. Our robed attendant gestured toward the lake. Cormac stepped forward, but the attendant held out an arm at chest height.

“The cursed one remains.” He stated.

Cormac sucked his lips between his teeth, and though he clearly disagreed, he nodded and stepped back anyway.

My stomach churned. “Who—”

Our escort disappeared in a wisp of smoke and ash.

I shook out my arms, ignoring the chill that raced over my skin. “If this is an ambush...” I let the threat hang in the air.

“Better hurry, Princess.” Cormac jerked his chin toward the figure. “Before he walks off into the ether.”

I nodded resolutely and took a step towards the water, my feet hitting the surface and staying above it.

I walked like a youngling balancing on a fishing line. Cautious, but hurried.

My blood tingled the closer I got to the stranger on the lake. Hot and cold, alternating between the two. Every inch of my skin prickled with nerves.

The water undulated below my feet, urging me forward impatiently. Soon, I ran down the slope, my feet slapping the water as I greeted the lone figure at speed.

He glanced over his shoulder, barely acknowledging me. He wore a floor-length cloak, open at the waist. His body was soft, his skin as pale as a fish’s belly. His hair was curly, but wiry and grey.

I was unused to seeing the effects of age.

The Twilight Lake did not have many elder Fae. In fact, I’d only recently learned how long-lived Sídhe could be. Sídhe aged so slowly that it was thousands of years before a wrinkle or a grey hair formed. Many used glamour to change their appearance regardless of the physical signs of aging.

The male in front of me was no Sídhe.

His eyes were black, endless pools. They seemed to move like the waves of the sea, making me nauseous to look at them.

He did not smile as he met my gaze. He jerked his chin toward the shore. “That one of mine, Lass?”

“One of yours?” My voice was hoarse, the words out of my mouth before I realized it.

“A cursed one. A Mer.”

“He’s mine.” My jaw hardened. I forced myself to look into his eyes, even if it made my stomach roil.

“Hm.” The male chuffed.

“Manannán mac Lir.” I squared my shoulders. “You summoned me here.”

His lips twisted. Brow furrowed. “Did I?” He seemed adept at playing the doddering old man, even if his sharp eyes said otherwise.

“Your attendant. The dragon.” I waved my hand towards the sky.

“Ah.” Manannán mac Lir nodded, looking up. “My lagoon. Not many souls wind up there, to be sure. Though a Mer falling into that lagoon started their whole mess.”

“ Your lagoon.” I echoed.

“Aye.” Manannán mac Lir turned away. “I can read your thoughts, God-Child. You’re wondering if the dragon is one of Lir’s infamous children.”

My cheeks burned. “And if I were?”

“I’d tell you that Lir’s children were not cursed to become dragons, but swans. That the warlock that cursed them is long dead.” He squinted as he eyed the cloudy sky. “Lir was my father. I am Manannán mac Lir.”

“And the dragon?” I asked.

“Sometimes a dragon is just a dragon.”