Page 39 of The Dark Will Fall (Twilight Lake #5)

Maeve Cruinn

It was hard to focus. I couldn't remember what Balor had said, or why we were moving through the castle as honored guests, on her heels.

The dining hall often hosted most members of the Esteemed Undine Court. Those of King Irvine’s inner circle, and those who held titles older than the lake sediment.

With four long tables that extended the length of the expansive room, a platform at the front was reserved for the royal family.

I’d never enjoyed eating in the dining hall.

Despite its size, it was easier to draw the attention of the gossip than it was to hide in the large hall.

I’d stuck to eating in the kitchens or my room after my mother had died.

The dining hall had always instilled a level of discomfort that made every hair on my body lift—something screaming, 'I did not belong. '

When Balor had invited us inside, I had wanted nothing more than to scream in her face. Somehow, we all ended up agreeing to a meal, despite our desire to turn Balor to foam.

Dagda’s staff sat in my tunic, pressed to my skin with bandages. I couldn’t let her see it, but I didn’t trust myself to be without it.

I turned, following the scrape of a plate, and the sharp wood brushed against the top of my arm. My mind cleared, and I saw the truth that Balor’s glamour had hidden.

I glanced over at Cormac, Shay, and Rainn, finding their eyes coated in a shining film. Their expressions blank.

My jaw ground together, and my fists clenched as my simmering anger lit up my chest like a roaring fire.

They had been enchanted before. Sent to the harem at Balor’s behest. She had taunted me with that information before torturing me. I hadn’t expected any sort of respect, but to see the evidence of her enchantment, again , in the flesh, felt like a blow to my identity as their mate and a Cruinn.

Balor had not paid any mind to Arden, though I doubted she knew who he was. She hadn’t even glanced at Liam, though he was her son.

Everyone pulled their chairs from the table, sitting down in unison. My movements were out of synch, as Balor noticed as she stood at the head of the table and watched us take our seats.

When everyone was seated, the enchantment lifted. An exhale, as the light came back to their eyes.

One moment, they had been at the castle doors, and the next, at a place setting in the dining hall. Ready to be served a meal.

“What the feck was that?” Cormac spoke first, blinking furiously.

“Trust the Mer to be most uncouth,” Balor replied smoothly, but a fixed grin never left her face. The expression was too unnerving. As if her happiness was too much for her slight body to contain.

Balor, or rather, Elaine Cruinn, waved over her shoulder to one of the servers. A moment passed before trays descended on the table, laden with jugs filled with Fion Fola, and plates groaning with fish.

None of us moved as the servers began to fill our plates. As if we were guests instead of prisoners.

“Where’s Tormalugh?” I demanded, my clenched fist resting on the table. “You said he was here.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Balor replied coyly, lifting the jug and pouring herself a glass of blood wine. “Don’t worry, Maeve. Once you give me what you stole, I’ll return your Kelpie to you. My word as bond.”

“And Nuada?” I pressed.

Balor tittered. “The Siren Queen?”

“You took Nuada.” I continued. “I’d like her returned as well.”

“Whatever for?” She lifted the glass to her lips and eyed me over the rim. “Nuada is a god of the Tuatha Dé Danann. If she wanted to leave, she could have.”

“What did I take?” I asked, changing the subject.

Balor’s smile, which had been a fixed feature until that moment, dissolved instantly. “You know what you took.” She snarled.

No one moved.

Balor looked around, as if breaking from a trance. She waved her hands delicately. “Eat!” She encouraged, the smile fraught but back on her face. “You’re my guests! Later, when you sit on the throne, all will be made right.”

Liam cleared his throat. “Mother.”

Balor blinked and turned to his son, as if just realizing he was there. “Yes?”

“You should release the Kelpie. As a test of good faith.” Liam jerked his chin toward me, gesturing with his brows.

Balor clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

I’m unprepared . I realized . I have no weapon. Nor do I have the means to make one.

Brígid had told me about Balor. The giant.

How Lugh had held him down and thrust a blade in his eye.

A blade of iron and a god's blood. My hands shook, and the yawning sorrow in my bones grew. Hopeless. I glanced up, feeling the press of magic against my skin, twisting my emotions. I hadn’t realized that Balor was capable of such a thing, but my feelings were not my own.

Balor sat, sipping her wine as if nothing was wrong.

“Mother?” Liam repeated.

Balor hummed, rolling her head from one side to the other.

I met Cormac’s eyes and knew he felt the same as I did. We’d forgone any sort of plan so that we could rescue Tormalugh—and any hope of killing Balor was drifting away by the second.

Balor sighed. “Fine.” She clucked. “I’ll go and get the prisoners. As a show of good faith.” She flashed Liam an affectionate look as she stood and walked out of the room without looking back.

We all exhaled a sigh, bodies falling forward as if we had been tied to the chair.

Rainn stood up, brushing his hands over his clothing, gagging as if he could see the magic that had held up.

Liam held his hand out. “Pass me the iron, Illfinn.” He snapped.

“How about ‘ Feck off’ , Cruinn?” The Mer rolled his eyes.

“We’ve got no time, and you need my help,” Liam replied, jerking his open palm expectantly. “ Please .”

The word was no joke to a Sídhe. It was a debt.

“I cannot tell a lie.” Liam pleaded. “Give me your iron, before she returns.”

“What are you going to do?” I demanded.

“I always wanted to be a Troid Sídhe,” Liam smiled sadly, gripping the iron in his bleeding hands. The blood turned black as it dispersed like ink in the water. “Before she became Balor, my mother was a Weaver. Perhaps it is my destiny to weave a weapon that can kill her.”

Cormac sighed, pulling the filthy bag from around his neck, holding it out across the table. Liam snatched the bag and stuffed it in his pocket.

Liam Cruinn and I had been friends since we were younglings. He had grown up with me in Cruinn. One of my only friends, through the horrid whispers of the Esteemed Court.

“The blade doesn’t matter.” Liam clutched his hand to his chest. “Even with the weapon, it must be wielded by someone of Balor’s blood.”

“Elaine Cruinn is your mother,” I argued.

“But Balor birthed me. It was my mother’s body she wore, but Balor nursed me.” Liam shook his head. “I don’t know if I am strong enough, but I have to try. I cannot watch her boil more innocent fae. I cannot watch her bring those creatures into our world.”

“Liam…” I whispered.

“In another life,” He smiled a straight-lipped smile. “We would have been married. We would have been happy.”

As much as I wanted to argue with him, it wasn’t the time.

“I am glad that you found your Shíorghrá,” Liam told me earnestly. “The fates may have been cruel to you, as a youngling, but they compensated you handsomely.”

“They are handsome, aren’t they?” I joked.

Liam rolled his eyes.

I glanced at the door.

Not a moment too soon, as the dining hall doors opened and Balor swept in, with two Fae on her heels and a host of guards that I did not recognize.

It took all of my strength not to stand up and run to him.

I didn’t know how long Tormalugh Shadowhock had been in Cruinn, trapped in the dungeon, but even a second was too many.

His long black hair was a snarled mess, and his skin was pallid.

Kelpies fed on emotions, and it seemed that he’d been starved on purpose.

My eyes met his, and Tor exhaled his relief, but he didn’t say a word.

A silver bridle sat between his lips, pressing into his cheeks to form bleeding dimples.

I’d stood up before I realized. “Take off that bridle. Now.” The water began to churn, and the glass windows of the dining hall rattled and groaned from the pressure.

Balor stepped aside, revealing the second prisoner. Nuada—who was in remarkably bad shape compared to Tor. The Siren Queen’s wings had been ripped to ragged nubs, like torn fabric. Her bug-like eyes were a pale, cloudy white. One swollen shut entirely.

Arden stifled a noise, but wasn’t quick enough.

Balor’s head cocked to the side, in interest.

“I’d assumed you were another one of Maeve’s mates,” Balor chuckled, gliding forward. “But you’re not. Are you?”

Arden’s jaw hardened as he met her gaze. “I am not.” He agreed.

“Pray tell, who are you?” Balor knitted her fingers together and placed them under her chin. “I’m most interested to hear the answer.”

Arden said nothing, his nostrils flaring.

Another wave of magic pulsed through the water. Not the lake, but the ground underneath. A fist banging against the lakebed.

Balor flinched before schooling her face. The expression had gone before it had truly formed.

Balor was frightened.

But of what?

“No matter,” Balor waved her hand. “I have many a guppy amongst the sirens. She will tell me.”

No matter how injured Nuada was, she would not have been described as a guppy.

She heard my thought, saw my horror. And laughed.

“Of course I have spies, child.” She clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes.

“I have spies amongst most of the creeds. They want what anyone wants. Riches. Power. Status.” She shook her head with pity.

“It would have been easier if you were that way, Maeve. If I could offer a pretty title in exchange for your magic. Your mother got her claws in you too early. Taught you all the wrong things.”

I bit my tongue hard enough to taste blood.

Balor wrinkled her nose. “All this lovely food is going to waste.” She shook her head sadly. “I should have left Nuada as dessert. Instead, you’re all too distracted to eat.”