Page 18 of The Deep End of Death (Twilight Lake #4)

Rainn and Tor were torn. I could tell. They didn’t know whether to believe me or not. I supposed that was a good thing. I wouldn’t want Shíorghrá who believed everything I said without reason.

I tried not to be hurt, but it was hard. My heart and my head weren’t working in tandem these days.

“Anyway...” I shrugged, waving towards the wooden door. “We should go through that door. I think Belisama wants to show us something.” I started walking, but a hand gripped my bicep, and I was lifted off my feet until I was nose-to-nose with Tor.

I hadn’t been on the receiving end of his anger before. My eyes widened, and my back arched as my body physically recoiled from the strange sight. Tor’s eyes flashed yellow, and though I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, my heart leaped into my throat.

“Belisama is your mother,” Tor said as calmly as he could. The words came out slowly as he pushed them through his teeth.

“I thought I told you after Shay’s wedding.” My brows furrowed. “Didn’t I?

Rainn tilted his head, leaning between us. “You said a woman appeared. That’s all.”

“I didn’t know.” I latched on to the excuse Rainn had given me earlier. “Gods can take many forms.”

Tor growled, letting go of my arm.

“I didn’t know.” I echoed. Please don’t be angry .

“How many more secrets do you have, Maeve?” Tor pushed his fingers through his dark hair, tugging against his scalp. “How can I trust that I am not being manipulated when I only know half of the truth?”

“Let me guess.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Cormac put those thoughts in your head.”

“I can think for myself.” Tor pointed out. “Which you seem to forget.”

“ You left me .” I snarled, my voice taking on a strange quality. Multi-layered and sodden with magic. “I was pushed onto that throne. I have fresh scars from what Balor did to me.”

“I was—”

“I swear to the Domhain that if you say ‘ enchanted,’ I will scream.” I waggled my finger in his face. “I know there is nothing to forgive. I know that you were enchanted by a god. It doesn’t stop the hurt. You promised I would never sit on the High Throne again, Tormalugh Shadowhock.”

Tor’s nostrils flared, and though I knew he hated the use of his full name, he didn’t argue when I used it.

“What of the pirate ship?” Tor cleared his face of all expression. “Did you think about us for a second before you swanned off to the captain’s dinner table?”

“Jealous?” I sneered.

“Concerned.” His eyes narrowed.

The dark and squirming chasm in my chest cracked open a little wider. I could feel his hurt as if it was my own. I had no idea how, but his emotions pressed against the inside of my skin. If that was how Tor always felt, it was a wonder he hadn’t gone mad.

“This isn’t getting anywhere.” Rainn put his hands on our shoulders and separated us both with a gentle push.

My chest heaved as if I’d swam for my life, my eyes stung with unshed tears, though I refused to let them fall.

I opened my mouth, about to tell them about the stone in my pocket. The Kraken’s eye. About the voices in my head.

But Rainn knew all about my bargain with the Kraken. He’d make me take it back.

My teeth clicked together against my own volition, and my voice died in my throat.

Tor looked at me, and my blood flashed hot and cold.

I didn’t want him to look at me that way. He didn’t understand. I was protecting him. I was protecting all of them.

A male Sídhe in a cloak greeted us as we pushed the non-descript wooden door open. His pointed ears poked out of the hood, his cheeks scarred purposefully. He bowed his head in greeting.

“Welcome to the Temple of Murk.” The priest said warmly. “Our food is yours, and our knowledge is yours. Céad míle fáilte. ”

We echoed the sentiment in the old tongue.

“Murk, you say?” Tor cocked his head to the side.

“You’re travelers?” The priest chuffed a pleasant laugh. Though he appeared barely out of the throes of youth, something told me he was much older than all of us out together.

“Murk is the name of our humble town. Though the name may fool you, we have one of the most illustrious libraries in the Night Court. Second only to the Dark King’s castle.”

Tor made an interested noise while Rainn looked suitably bored.

My stomach growled, interrupting the welcome speech. My cheeks warmed.

“Come.” The priest waved us through the foyer. Though the outside of the building had been barren, the inside was enough to give me a headache. Every surface was covered with tapestries, illuminated by bobbing Faelight.

The priest disappeared through the archway, and Rainn and Tor bent down simultaneously, removing their boots. I looked down at my filthy feet, covered in minor cuts from the sharp stones on the beach.

Rainn followed my gaze, wincing. “There should be somewhere to wash your feet near the entrance.” He craned his neck, finding a trough on the other side of the room. “Come on.” He urged.

I frowned. “Why?”

“Have you ever been to a temple before?” Tor’s brows disappeared into his hairline.

“Cruinn castle has a place of worship. For services. Weddings of the Esteemed Undine Court and the like. We don’t wash our feet.”

“What about shoes?” Tor pressed.

I frowned, thinking back to the only time I’d been allowed to attend a service. “I don’t remember. I’ve only attended my mother’s funeral rites, and that was years ago.”

I followed Rainn to the trough, lifting each foot carefully into the metallic bowl.

Water rushed from one end to the other as if a river had been contained in a basin.

The frigid water stung my cuts, but I didn’t complain.

Every inch of my body ached, and I was determined not to draw attention to the pain. Thinking about it only made it worse.

The pain helped me keep my thoughts sharp. Keeping me in my body. It made the stone’s voice quieter.

Once I was finished, we drifted through the temple, following the priest's path. The cloaked Fae waited behind the open archway and smiled benignly.

I wondered how much he had heard.

Though the temple was monstrously large on the outside, the rooms were relatively narrow, giving the impression of a labyrinth.

Finally, after passing through several similar rooms swathed in tapestries and laden with symbolic artifacts, the ceiling lifted like a sunrise—revealing the inside of an arched dome I had seen from the beach.

The slow gurgle of a fountain added to the low buzz of conversation. Several cloaked Fae drifted around the room. Some were in couples as they chatted, others reading absentmindedly from books made of paper—something we didn’t have underwater.

The priest knitted his fingers together. “Eat. Rest, travelers. Your friends are waiting in the atrium.”

“Our friends?” Rainn clambered past Tor, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

The priest nodded eagerly. “We consult the font of knowledge at the beginning of each day.” He smiled brightly, his eyes shining with dedication. “Belisama told us you were coming.”

“Belisama told you?” Tor’s head remained forward, but I felt his urge to glance at me. “Through the font? Does the God of the Waves speak to you often?”

The priest shook his head earnestly. “The font was empty, save for five pearls.” He reached into the folds of his cloak before holding out his open palm. Sat on his hand were five pearls; each shimmered a rainbow where the light met the curved edge.

I reached up, brushing my cheek with my fingertips before realizing what I had done. Something in my chest shifted as if a fishing line had wrapped around my heart, dragging the organ down with a sharp tug.

Balor wore my crescent pearl on a chain around her neck.

My pearl.

I inhaled sharply, swaying.

Rainn wrapped his arm around me.

Tor stepped between us and the priest. “Put those away.” He snarled, thinking my reaction was because of the pearls.

I held up my hand. “I’m fine,” I assured him. “It wasn’t the pearls. Shay is close by. I felt him.”

“You felt him?” Rainn asked.

I nodded.

“The brand?” Tor guessed.

“As I said,” The priest interrupted, his voice remaining pleasantly calm. “Your friends are in the atrium. I’ll take them to you. Someone will bring food.”

“Your hospitality is most appreciated.” Tor dipped his head.

The entrance to the atrium stood behind the fountain—as crowded and colorful as the other rooms of the temple. Books, scrolls, and tablets of stone or wax packed the room in such volume that it was a wonder the walls hadn’t burst.

The priest directed us to a path between two shelves that reached the atrium ceiling, like two opposing tidal waves.

My muscles locked in place, and my shoulders almost stuck to my ears with tension. I looked behind me every few steps, expecting to find someone there. The temple felt strange. The building whispered though I couldn’t make out the words.

A circle of tables sat in the middle of the library, the pupil of an eye.

I’d almost believed it was all a trick until I saw Shay and Cormac sitting around a table, unscathed.

They were alive.

Safe.

My knees buckled with relief.

Rainn skipped towards them, a broad grin on his face.

I thought Rainn was happy to see his friends until he snatched the fruit plate on the table and held it up like the spoils of war. Rainn grabbed a handful of juicy red berries and stuffed them in his mouth.

Cormac rolled his eyes at Rainn. “I expect nothing less.”

“It’s nice to know we’re loved.” Shay drawled, leafing through a book.

“What?” Rainn asked around a mouth filled with fruit.

Cormac scoffed but didn’t repeat himself. Still, a smile ticked at the Mer’s lips.

I wanted more than anything to fill my belly and find a comfortable bed to fall into, but that could wait.

Cormac stood up, sauntering over to me. “You’re alive then, Princess.”

The priest bowed, excusing himself.

The Mer-King did not bother looking at him as he left.

“Disappointed?” I cocked a brow.

Cormac’s eyes darkened. “You could never disappoint me.”