Page 17 of The Dark Will Fall (Twilight Lake #5)

Maeve Cruinn

I did as Brígid said. Cradling my bloody arm, I staggered away from the camp, ignoring the bodies of the wolves on the ground. Their teeth exposed, and their eyes wide in death.

I didn’t need to ask which way was north; I heard the gurgle of the river the moment I stepped away from camp.

Was the trial over ? I wondered.

My heart thumped at the idea of seeing Cormac again. I had hoped he would be safe with Manannán mac Lir, but I had quickly realized that the gods were not to be trusted, just like the Sídhe.

Tears welled in my eyes.

My head began to hurt.

It always seemed to hurt when I thought about the Aos Sí.

I couldn’t leave the camp fast enough.

Every inch of my skin prickled with my magic. It clung to the air, like paint smears of emotion. Fear. Desperation.

I should have felt guilty, but I didn’t.

I never reached for my magic if I could help it. I tried not to rely on it because I wasn’t sure I held enough control over it —but it was part of me. Perhaps instead of becoming a crutch, I could hone it.

The trees parted as I approached the river. The water was sparkling clear as it rushed over the rocks, deep enough to reach my knees but not much more.

Brígid had said someone was waiting, but I was alone.

Taking a shaky breath, I stepped into the river. My body sagged with relief as the water brushed against my skin. No matter what I was, I had been born Undine, and the water was my home.

“Maeve?” a voice called out, further down the river. Familiar, though I couldn’t quite place it. I turned to the source of the sound. My breath locked in my throat.

“Mam?” I whispered.

She stood in the middle of the river, though the water did not touch her. A silver dress that matched her lengthy hair, her dark eyes soft, and her face peppered with pearlescent freckles.

She looked younger than I remembered, though I had been a child when she had passed.

I cleared my throat. “Belisama?” I tried again.

My mother smiled softly. “Come, my child.” She urged. “They are waiting for us at the halls of Tír na nóg.”

I took a step toward her, but my leaden thighs shook and my legs struggled to maintain my weight. Belisama moved so quickly that I did not see her, rushing to my side and gripping my bicep to help me stand.

“I don’t know why I feel so sick.” I smiled apologetically.

Belisama winced. “You do not belong in the Tuatha Dé Danann, Maeve.” She bit her top lip as she studied me.

“We are energy. We do not have mass. Not as the Aos Sí does. We are celestial. You were born of the physical realm. Your first breath took the Aos Sí into your body. You were fed from its bounty. Drank of its water. You have my magic, but you belong to the Aos Sí.”

A sharp pain made my right eye close. “I feel so hungry, but I don’t want to eat.”

A troubled look painted her face. “Your bonds are straining.” She explained.

“Bonds?” I pressed my hand to my eye. “But it hurts even when Cormac and I are together.”

“Your other bonds, Maeve.” Belisama’s gaze softened.

She waved a hand to the tree nearest the river.

Its fat pink blossoms were too heavy for the flowers, and they rained down into the river like snowflakes.

The tree creaked as it bent to her will, arching over the length of the river, though its body should have been too thick to do so. The air shimmered.

Belisama, my mother, moved her hand from my bicep, down to knit her fingers with mine. She ushered me forward, the river moving around her to form a path, as she led me through the makeshift doorway.

I had traveled by Silver more than once, and the sensation was always unnerving. The rapid shift in the environment and temperature.

One moment, I was knee deep in water, adjusting my gait against the lazy force of the river. Next, my bare feet slapped against smooth stone. The shadows of the forest were gone, and the arid air sucked the moisture from my skin.

The sun overhead was round, burning down, and the sky was an impossible blue.

I remembered the pattern on the floor. A mosaic made of terracotta tile. The platform that the dragon had so carelessly thrown us onto.

It felt like weeks had passed since that moment.

The platform was no longer empty; instead, a ring of chairs surrounded us. A basin stood in the middle of the arrangement.

“Maeve!”

I turned as Cormac raced through the archway, his eyes burning with fierce desperation. He took the stairs two at a time and strode towards me with force enough to slice through an army if one had stood between us.

My mother let go of my hand as Cormac scooped me into his arms. His hand tangled in my hair at the base of my skull, and he pushed his lips against mine, clinging to me as if I were a dream about to disperse.

Every muscle in my body seemed to relax as I sagged in his arms.

I was safe. Cormac was with me, and everything was going to be okay.

I didn’t know how long our embrace lasted when my mother interrupted by pressing a cool metal goblet against my arm, drawing my attention.

“Drink this.” She urged. “It will make you feel better.”

Cormac released me as if I were on fire. “You’re sick?”

“I don’t think it’s contagious.” I joked. “And without a tail, you won’t get fin-rot.”

He shook his head, eying me with concern. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Maeve will feel better if she drinks this.” My mother interrupted, pressing the goblet into my hands. “It’s water from the Lough Key . A lake that exists in both the Aos Sí and the Tuatha Dé Danann, as you do.”

I took the cup and drained the contents—thirst overriding my actions more than my mother’s words.

“The Tuatha Dé Danann have called a Quorum.” Belisama continued. “To discuss Balor.”

Cormac’s lips pulled into a snarl. “Does that mean you are going to help?”

“Cormac—” I warned.

He held up a hand. “Those feckers have been avoiding me for days. I’ve been left in this labyrinth, and every person I’ve seen hasn’t given me a sodding answer. Not about where you were. Not about Balor. Not about a fecking thing.”

My mother’s eyes creased with amusement, though her lips did not move. “Manannán mac Lir has a soft spot for the cursed ones, it seems.” She said coolly. “Anyone else would have been sent to the Mistéireach for punishment.”

“Is that what that place was? Punishment?” I cupped my throat.

“Who are you?” Cormac turned to my mother, eyes flashing.

I held my arm out in front of his chest. “Cormac, this is Belisama. My mother.”

Whatever words sat on his tongue died. His face went curiously blank.

I’d never seen Cormac rendered speechless before.

“The others will arrive soon.” Belisama gestured to the chairs. “Look into the basin. Quickly!”

“The basin?” Cormac echoed.

“It is a window to the Aos Sí.” Belisama drifted forward, as lightly as a ghost.

“Can we see Tormalugh? Shay Mac Eoin? Rainn?” Cormac hurried forward, excitedly.

“Tor—who?” I frowned. “I don’t—” My head began to hurt.

Cormac’s brow pinched. “You don’t remember your Shíorghrá?”

“You’re my Shíorghrá.” I gave him a weak smile as I cracked my head.

Belisama’s eyes flicked between us. “I believe Balor may have tampered with Maeve’s Shíorghrá bonds. It may be why she isn’t able to remember them, after passing through the ether.”

“What are you talking about?” I growled, wincing in pain.

Cormac and Belisama ignored me.

“Maeve was acting very oddly in the Dark Sea. I assumed it was because of the High Throne and the Kraken’s eye.” Cormac’s lips pinched.

Belisama shook her head. “I believe her bonds were poisoned.”

“Balor—” I thought of the empty feeling in my chest. Of being held down on the High Throne. The hunger.

No one came to save me.

No one.

“Come to the basin.” Belisama urged, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and steering us past the line of chairs. I did not dare argue. I was too weak to do so anyway.

From a distance, the basin could have been mistaken for a sundial, given its shallow appearance. Ordinary stone, on a cracked pillar.

As I approached, Cormac and my mother stepped back, though I didn’t know why. The basin was wholly unremarkable, though it felt strangely familiar, like returning home at the end of a tiring day.

I placed my hands on the lip of the basin and craned my neck, out of curiosity more than a desire to see anything in the Aos Sí.

The water rippled, and a dark-headed male filled the bowl. His eyes shimmered a strange gold color, his skin marked with dark tattoos.

Tormalugh .

Cormac had said his name, but I hadn’t been able to draw a face into my mind.

My chest hurt. Everything hurt.

I had seen Tormalugh in my dreams, reaching for me.

The water rippled again, and two males filled the bowl.

One with braids that shifted and twitched, his skin was burnished amber, and his nose was prominent in a somewhat regal way. Lips plush, and eyes that changed color as I looked at them.

Shay Mac Eoin.

The other male had eyes the color of the overhead sky, a bright, unblemished blue. His hair was silver, and long enough to reach his ears, straight as a pin, and floppy. His eyes were round, not unlike those of a seal, with long eyelashes to match.

Rainn Shallows.

I knew them. They were mine .

How could I forget?

“Is it because I’m dead?” I looked up from the basin. “Am I dead?” I’d already asked Manannán mac Lir, but the question bore repeating.

Belisama gave me a look. The kind she used to give when I asked silly questions as a youngling.

Cormac threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to his side.

But neither one answered my question.

“Tor...” I whispered, my vision blurred as my eyes filled with tears. “Shay... Rainn...” I turned to my mother. “Are they safe?”

Belisama shook her head and waved her hand over the basin.

Darkness filled the water. I craned my neck and looked over, unable to see much of anything.

A moment passed and then another, as I realized that the darkness differed from the movement of the water.

A red eye flashed, and a silver claw. Over and over. Hundreds of beasts.

“Balor has found a way to bring the Fomorians to the Aos Sí. She has opened a doorway under the Twilight Lake. They have waited for her.” My mother said gravely.

“How long have they been sleeping?” Cormac demanded.

“Waiting, and multiplying.” My mother corrected.

“I followed Balor to the Aos Sí, to ensure the Fomorians were never unleashed. I spent a thousand years, and I gathered several creeds to protect the lake. Those of the Aos Sí who had no home elsewhere. The Kelpies and the Selkies, who risked enslavement, from those who viewed Wild Fae as less. The Mer, cursed and unable to live above the surface without pain. The Undine, that risked being stolen for their adornments.” She closed her eyes and took a steady breath.

“Under my rule, each creed was tasked with protecting the lake.”

“But you died.” I snapped, my eyes filling with tears again. “You’re a god, and you died.”

Belisama shook her head. “Balor took the life of my mortal host. With iron.”

“If you cared about the lake, you wouldn’t have let Irvine take the throne.” I retorted. “You would have seen Elaine for what she was. You’re a god, but Irvine wasn’t.”

“Irvine was the brother of my human host. Caroihme.” Belisama told me. “I had already killed his sister. I could not take his home or his life from him.”

“And Elaine?” Cormac interjected.

“Balor was exorcised from the Tuatha Dé Danann.” Belisama found the nearest chair and slumped down.

No longer the image of godlike grace, but a harried and haunted woman.

“They were a ghost. A spirit. No more than air with intention. A thousand years passed in the Aos Sí without a sign of them. I thought they were no longer a threat.”

Cormac sucked his lips between his teeth, having lost patience with her theatrics.

Belisama waved her hand towards the basin before dropping her head.

Elaine Cruinn’s face filled the shallow pool.

“You stole him from me!” Elaine’s voice echoed from the basin. “You stole Calder! You made him a puppet!”

Belisama pinched her brow.

Before the basin could show us anything else, the robed attendant strode up the stairs. They rushed to Belisama and knelt down, whispering something in her ear.

Belisama paused, an expression of uncertainty claiming her face before she settled into serene calm. She stood up, but the movement was stilted. The basin cleared, as if sensing the interruption.

“There has been an unexpected arrival,” Belisama announced. “The Quorum will have to wait. Allow the Giolla to show you to your rooms. We will reconvene when it’s convenient.”

There was no room for argument, as my mother swept away with a snap of white silk.