Page 25 of The Dark Will Fall (Twilight Lake #5)

Rainn Shallows

They didn’t dare go into the water, as the steam formed a thick wall over the lake.

The Siren finally acquiesced when it became clear that whatever plagued Tarsainn had no intention of stopping.

The Nymph village was half a day’s walk along the shore, and their party took no convincing to follow Shay Mac Eoin to his home for shelter.

Rainn Shallows would have been the first to admit that he smelled like rotting fish and sweat after their encounter with Scylla.

The heavy, sulfuric scent emanating from the lake over Tarsainn had seeped into his clothing and hair, leaving him feeling vaguely unwell. The others were just as affected.

“Come on!” Rainn protested, his feet heavy as they trooped through the forest by the shore. “We’d be there in less than an hour if you flew us.”

“I’m amazed you think I have the energy after flying your fat rumps halfway across the Night Court,” Arden replied dryly. “I don’t even have the energy to fly myself.” He gestured to his back, where his wings had disappeared in a puff of smoke and shadows.

Shay Mac Eoin forged on ahead, more energetic than both of them. Their encounter had given Shay more energy than Rainn had realized—how long had the Nymph operated at such a low level, starved for sexual energy, without saying a single word?

Rainn felt a deep pang of sympathy. He knew that Nymphs only took their Shíorghrá to bed once they had mated, and he hadn’t expected Shay to have accepted his advances.

Their bond with Maeve was typically understood as a circle, pointing inwards.

However, he couldn’t deny that he was attracted to each of the males that Maeve had collected.

Even Cormac, though Rainn knew the feeling was not mutual.

“I did not have a chance to ask upon your return…” The siren said, frowning. “But what did you find in the Dark Sea?”

“You sound skeptical,” Rainn noted.

“Many years have passed since my brother died,” Arden stated plainly. “It was a fool’s errand, one that my mother designed to get Maeve as far from Balor as possible.”

“You say that…” Rainn clicked his tongue against his teeth. “But she made a bargain with King Irvine for information.”

“King Irvine had been around for over a thousand years.” Arden pointed out. “Maeve is what, twenty years old?”

“I don’t know her age.” Rainn cocked his head to the side. “Though the Undine reach majority in their mid-twenties.”

“You are avoiding my question.” Arden stopped walking.

Rainn heaved a heavy sigh. “Has your mother ever mentioned something called the Night of a Thousand Fires?”

Arden looked blankly. “No.”

“Before your mother came to live by the Dark Sea, she was married to the King of the Night Court. Darragh is his son.”

A queer look crossed Arden’s features. “Go on.”

“A host of creatures came from another place. Not Fomorians from the Domhain, but demons from a different realm. Your mother took Darragh Eoin, and together they faced the creatures. The Dark King believes your mother died in this battle. He also believes that Darragh passed in the same battle.” Rainn eyed the siren.

“You mentioned that the Dark King had Darragh’s wings above his throne? ”

“Does he?” Arden’s gaze grew sharp.

Rainn shook his head. “No.”

The siren slumped, like a pufferfish with all the air let out.

“But he gave us a feather.” Rainn continued.

Arden reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “Where is it?”

Rainn jerked a chin toward Shay, so far from them both that he couldn’t hear them. “Shay Mac Eoin has it.”

Arden wrenched his hand back.

Rainn brushed his shoulder, as if to disinfect the touch. The siren was not offended, too preoccupied with watching the Nymph quickly disappearing further down the path.

Arden turned back to Rainn, his eyes narrowed. “My mother obviously did not die at the hands of these demons.” He said carefully.

“From what I understand,” Rainn sucked his lips between his teeth as he chose his words. “Your brother fell in love with one of the demons.”

Arden’s eyes widened.

“It is my belief that your brother chopped his own wings off to feign his death. As your mother feigned hers to escape the Night King.” Rainn kept his voice as delicate as possible. “I believe he went on to father several children with Crydea—the demon.”

“Nuada’s bloodline,” Arden whispered. “Did you find any of my kin?”

Rainn jerked his chin toward Shay, who was now a small speck on the path ahead. “I believe you know them as Nymphs.”

After Rainn had shared his theory with Arden, he noted a marked difference in the siren’s behavior. To the point of hilarity, if the subject hadn’t been too serious to joke about.

As they approached the Nymph village, Rainn noted the similarities between the two creeds with a newfound curiosity.

Though sirens wore scant clothing to allow for their winged appendages, while Nymphs preferred to show skin for more sexual reasons, the two creeds were not shy about nudity.

Both creeds lived somewhat primatively. The sirens favored caves, and the Nymphs favored tents made of skins, on the shores of the lake. Neither building permanent homes for themselves.

As Rainn understood it, Nymphs as a creed were often seen as a scourge. Driven to hiding because of their deviant magic. Not even the most powerful shield could protect from a Nymph’s sexual lure.

Sirens were hunted for their gilded wings, driven into hiding to protect themselves.

The bonfire at the center of the village raged high into the night sky, and the smoke billowed out to join the clouds over the moon.

Though Rainn had not spent as much time in the village as he should have, he knew a tall bonfire meant many things.

Guests.

The village roared with activity as they approached from the shore. The main tents, used for meetings and the like, bulged with fae. Many Nymphs rushed about, dragging people in from the shore.

It took a moment for Rainn to realize what he was seeing, though Shay had arrived several minutes before the Selkie and the Siren.

Shay Mac Eoin had sprung into action immediately, pulling the injured Mer from the water and dragging them to the tents to be healed.

The untimely sight of Nymphs writhing in the shadows, as they shored up enough magic to continue healing the scores of injured, was a jarring image Rainn struggled to process, though he knew the logistics of why the Nymphs were fucking amidst the chaos.

He’s never thought of the burden of Nymph magic before.

To be fed by lust, even when the situation inspired anything but.

Rainn didn’t know how he could help. He didn’t even know what he was looking at.

There were so many Mer. Their scales peeling from their tails, they screamed in agony, unable to form legs due to the pain, even out of the water. Many couldn’t even open their eyes or lift their heads.

He rushed forward, with sloshing steps as he searched for more injured Mer. Arden joined him.

Despite his fatigue, he swam out as far as he could, searching for tails in the water. Rainn couldn’t heal, but he could swim.

He lost count of how many injured Mer he pulled onto the sand.

The line of sunlight on the horizon disappeared, making way for night. The water grew still as a line of Nymphs waited on the sand.

The tents around the fire groaned with the echoes of the Mer’s pain.

The camp smelled of blood and cooked flesh. The sand was coated in discarded scales.

“Are these the survivors, from Tarsainn?” Rainn whispered, the moment the beach grew quiet. “I haven’t seen anything like this since...” But he struggled to think of an answer. Even in the trenches, in the thick of the fighting between the Mer and the Undine, there had been some sense to it all.

But the Mer from the water had been younglings, the elderly, civilians. Not soldiers.

One of the less injured Mer answered him, a youngling no taller than his hip, shivering despite his proximity to the bonfire. “The Undine Queen.” The youngling’s teeth chattered. “She came from the caves, and the lakebed... Opened.”

“Opened?” Rainn turned away from the beach.

“Cracked like a turtle egg.” The fire reflected in the young one’s glassy eyes. “The water bubbled. It was so hot. I’ve never... We don’t have a word for it.”

“Boiled,” Arden said.

Rainn hadn’t heard him approach.

“What of the city?” Rainn asked.

The young Mer shook his head. “The wards... I don’t know. So many died.”

Rainn’s fists clenched, his words locked behind clenched teeth. He turned on his heel and marched deeper into the Nymph village.

It didn’t take long to find Shay in the middle of the action.

The same tent that had housed Shay’s wedding celebrations had been quickly repurposed as a hospital, with blankets lining the floor as rows and rows of Nymphs tended to the Mer.

Though only the Mac Eoin bloodline boasted the ability to breathe underwater, almost all Nymphs could perform some level of healing.

The air of the sick tent was unusually warm. Perfumed with sweat and the delicate sweetness of multiple Nymph lures.

He shrugged off the magic, already spent from Shay’s earlier feeding.

He walked down a row of injured Mer, taking a moment to study their injuries. He paused when he saw a familiar face, though he didn’t know what to do with the fae in front of him.

Liam Cruinn, unconscious, on a bedroll—as burned as the Mer surrounding him. Rainn shook his head and stepped away, finding Shay Mac Eoin further down the tent.

Rainn placed his hand on Shay’s shoulder, and the Nymph gestured for a nearby female to take his place, healing the injured Mer.

Shay stood up, his clothing coated in blood. “News?” He asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“You were right. Balor boiled the houses outside of the city wards.” Rainn said, jaw hard.

“You’re sure?” Shay’s eyes widened.

“We can’t wait for Maeve to return.” Rainn ground his teeth. “This kind of action is a declaration of war.”

“As if the war ever ended.” Shay retorted heavily. “We need to wait for Maeve.”

“We don’t know where she is. If she’s coming back—”

Shay slapped him. “She’s coming back.” His eyes flashed, and he pounded his chest. “I feel her here. Our bond. Don’t you?”

Rainn sucked in a breath. He couldn’t answer that.

He loved Maeve. He closed his eyes and could picture every inch of her face, but he couldn’t feel her. Not since she had almost died in Cruinn.

He had not voiced the thought to anyone.

“We have to wait.” Shay pleaded.

Rainn swept his hand out, gesturing to the injured Mer. “And what if more Fae die?”

“What would you have me do?” Shay rubbed his hand down his face. “Gather Arden, and swim to Cruinn to face Balor? Enchant a god with my lure, and then what? Stab her?”

“What will Maeve do?” Rainn argued. “Maeve is barely out of her youth herself. She may command the lake, but Balor is ancient and has abilities beyond our comprehension.If she returns—”

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Shay narrowed his eyes. “You don’t believe she will return.”

“I have seen her turn to foam.” Rainn retorted. “She returned so quickly, not even a day had passed. The Kraken’s eye, the stone. It did something to her. Twisted her—”

Shay shook his head. “It wasn’t the stone.

” He interrupted. “Balor broke something inside of her when we returned to Cruinn. You didn’t see her on the table.

Bleeding. Dying. Maeve tried to take her own life to avoid the torture at Balor’s hands.

Who amongst us can say we have experienced something like that?

We are soldiers, we are rulers. We fight in the silt, with swords and fists, but we don’t endure.

Those who fall, suffering, are turned to foam. A mercy.”

“Maeve was angry at us.” Rainn gritted his teeth. “For Cruinn.”

“Maeve was angry at everything,” Shay said. “Which is understandable.”

“I’ve been her Shíorghrá the longest.” Rainn’s voice rose. “Her burdens are mine. Her troubles are mine. But she has gone somewhere I cannot follow, and I am so—”

“I understand.” Shay nodded slowly. “You are angry too. Because she leaped, without thinking, to save Cormac. Who is not her Shíorghrá, as you are. Because she is gone, and we are left to sort through the rubble of an enemy too powerful for either of us to face.”

Rainn glared at the Nymph. “When did you get so wise?”

“I’ve always been wise.” He sniffed. “You underestimate me because I am a Nymph.”

Rainn felt a blow in his chest, formed from the words. Shay had been right. A single statement, and Rainn felt his mind awakening in a way he didn’t entirely like. A veil peeling away from his eyes, revealing to him the folly of his own youth—petty and superficial.

Rainn opened his mouth to speak, but found his words died in his mouth.

He clasped his chest again, feeling the same blow, only more insistent. It wasn’t just an emotion, making itself known by making his heart pound twice as fast.

“Do you feel that?” He gasped, winded.

Shay frowned before realization dawned on his own expression. “Maeve.”