Page 42 of The Dark Will Fall (Twilight Lake #5)

Maeve Cruinn

I waited, hands knitted together, in front of the High Throne, though the stone was inert.

One of the guards had interrupted before I had a chance to sit, and Balor had been pacing ever since.

It took every ounce of my strength not to grin with triumph.

“They defeated the Oilliphéist?!” Balor shrieked, her fists clenched together as she beat her thighs. “How did they get to the city limits before that behemoth?”

“They… er…” The guard’s eyes flicked to the window of the forgotten tower. “They…killed it.”

Balor blinked, as if she’d been struck in the head. “Killed it?”

“Yes, your majesty.” The guard mumbled. “Its body is… lying on top of several buildings in the city.”

Balor’s head snapped towards me, her teeth bared. The angriest I had seen her. A tendril of mirth turned my stomach warm.

“ You .” She snarled.

My eyes widened. I pointed to my face. “Me?”

“That beast was expensive!”

“Nuada paid the price.” I pointed out. “Not you.”

Balir’s nostrils flared. Her glamour flickered, and her gills opened and closed several times as she reigned in her anger. “It doesn't matter.” She brushed her hands down the front of her dress. “I don’t need the beast. It was a distraction. All I need is the High Throne.”

“Why?” I knew it was all in my mind, but the scars from the throne burned as if fresh. “You said you had spies amongst all the creeds. Why do you need to see across the lake?”

“Stupid girl.” Balor clicked her tongue.

“I don’t care what you see when you sit on the throne.

I only care that it is fed.” She strode forward, grabbing my shoulders with remarkable strength.

“It has taken years for the barrier between the domhain and the Aos Sí to weaken. Years of pouring your blood into the lake bed. The Dadga’s magic feeds the throne, but the bloodline will break the barrier. ”

Years of sitting on the throne. Years of bleeding. Years of those horrid claws in my veins, piercing my forearms and legs. Pinned to desperate stone, drained dry.

I fucking hated that throne.

But I hated Balor more.

Every inch of my body rebelled, but I strode forward and sat on the throne. The movement was quick and unceremonious.

Balor’s eyes sparkled as she waited for the throne’s teeth to appear. I forced my body to relax and slung one leg over the armrest, as I had seen her do before.

Nothing happened.

The Kraken’s eye was long gone, back to its rightful owner. It had killed me, but I had given it back.

The Dagda’s staff was with Shay Mac Eoin, the only one of my mates that could touch the strange artefact—outside of city limits and far from the throne.

I hadn’t lied when I said I would return the Dagda’s magic to the throne. Not entirely. I was of the Dagda’s bloodline, and my magic sat on the throne at that very moment.

My bargain with Balor was complete.

I saw the moment realisation dawned on her face, and her glamour dropped from her features—revealing puckered coral and endless darkness. She leaned over, far enough that my nose brushes the rough surface of her face, no longer under any guise of being Fae.

When Balor spoke, her voice echoed through the hundreds of holes in the coral. “ What did you do ?”

“It's gone.” I stared up in defiance. “The Kraken’s eye. I gave it back.”

Balor scrambled over me, hands skimming the stone. Flinching when her fingertips met the rough surface without resistance. Proof that the magic was gone. She wouldn’t have been able to touch the throne otherwise.

She grabbed my throat and squeezed. I clawed at her bejewelled arm and kicked, but stars swam in front of my eyes.

Something glimmered, deep in the recesses of her coral face. A light. Perhaps the famed eye that Brígid had spoken of.

I had to make her angrier.

Her knees rested on each of my thighs, pinning me.

Her hands blocked my gills, tight enough I couldn’t breathe.

I reached down inside of myself, pulling the first string I could find.

And I shifted into a Selkie and wriggled free.

My seal form felt strange. As if all of my limbs were tied close to my body, but it was fast, and that was what I needed.

The tower where the High Throne sat was in the oldest part of the castle.

Facing the edge of the lake, and the sheer cliff drop behind Cruinn.

Balor stood in front of the trap door, so I couldn’t escape.

The moment I was free, I stood on the other side of the room, and I shifted back to Undine.

Chest heaving with exertion, my mind struggled to move between the simplest seal thoughts and my own.

“No more magic.” I sang, still out of breath. “No more Fomorians. Who is the king on the other side? I forgot his name. How are you going to explain to the Domhain that their beasts will go hungry?”

“That is not your concern.” Balor tried to place the glamour back over her features, but it flickered and cracked. “I only need the Fomorians to eat the Tuatha Dé Danann. The Aos Sí is a casualty.”

How can I make her really angry?

“Really?” I laughed. “All this because my mam stole your boyfriend?”

“Excuse me?” Balor’s voice got dangerously low. The light within the caverns of her face grew sharper. “Is that why I’m here? For revenge on Belisama? Because you already killed her, in a rather cowardly way, I might add—”

“Stop it!” Her voice warped.

“What happened?” I tapped my lip. “Too weak from your years in the caves, like a bottom feeder. You had to cling to the first vapid Sídhe that came along. Too weak to resist?”

“I am not weak .” Balor’s voice came out in multiple layers, as if two people spoke at once.

I gestured to the throne. “Really? Because you needed the Dagda’s magic to break the seal on the lakebed. You couldn’t even do it yourself.”

I didn’t know what happened. The blow was too quick.

One moment, I sat in the throne, and the next, my head was half buried in the backrest of my seat. Blood coated my teeth. My ears rang. It hurt like hell. My body did not want to move even a finger, but it was working.

Already, Balor’s skin shifted as if a school of fish writhed under the surface. Her human glamour had been shed entirely. Her body moved with every deep breath as she struggled to contain her rage. The room seemed to shrink as her limbs grew longer.

“You can’t even get revenge on the Dagda.” Blood looked in front of my eyes. “He’s safe and sound in the Tuatha Dé Danann, with my mother. I saw them myself.”

I threw up my hand just in time as the tower burst around us, no longer able to contain Balor’s humongous form. Her skin was no longer pristine and adorned with gemstones, but pockmarked and burned—stretched too thin over a skeleton larger than it should have been.

She grew taller, and taller, the single eye in a coral-like eye socket glowed like a second sun.

I understood why Brígid had said Balor had earned the name ‘Bright one’.

The larger the giant grew, the more reason seemed to flee.

She reached down, plucking my body from the throne and pulling me in front of her face.

There were no features, save for the blinding light that tattooed my vision even after I closed my eyes.

I had no weapon, but I had my Shíorghrá.

I had Rainn’s seal form and Cormac’s tail. Shay’s lure, and Tor’s senses. I was not without magic.

I called the lake to me, imagining a fist around Balor’s body, compacting the water around her until her bones creaked and blood leaked from the holes in her face.

She let me go, and I dropped like a stone, unable to summon the strength to escape.

My skull was busy knitting itself together, too slowly for my liking, but I wouldn’t survive another blow.

Shay Mac Eoin had the Dagda’s staff. I could feel him on the other side of Cruinn, in front of the abyss.

We had given Liam the iron, but who knew if he’d made a weapon or not. Balor howled, clasping her face.

A wave of dizziness released my hold on the lake, and I looked up from amidst the rubble, as a giant foot stomped down before I could escape.