Page 19 of The Deep End of Death (Twilight Lake #4)

Shay didn’t look up as he spoke. “If you’ve finished flirting, Illfinn, that book isn’t going to finish itself.”

“I bet Shay’s reading illicit romance novels,” Rainn said, his teeth stained red with berry juice as he grabbed another bite.

Shay rolled his eyes. “We’re doing research. Did you know that Darragh is mentioned several times in connection to something called the ‘Night of a Thousand Fires?”

“Cillian Lane mentioned that.” I skirted past Cormac towards Shay. “It was almost a thousand years ago.”

The Nymph pushed the book towards me. “The Siren Queen said Darragh was killed a thousand years ago.”

“If her memory isn’t faulty.” Tor pointed out. “Elder fae don’t measure time the same way as younglings. I can only imagine gods are similar.”

“Why is everything always ‘a thousand years ago’?” Rainn wiggled his stained fingers for comedic effect. “Why is it never nine hundred and twelve years ago?”

Shay rolled his eyes, dismissing Rainn. He pointed to the open page of the book in my hand. “Look.” He urged.

... Tuatha Dé Danann…The Aos Sí... The Domhain...

“I know all this?” My voice was husky with exasperation.

“Keep reading,” Shay pressed.

... Golden gates... Beings of immense power... Demons...

“Balor, well known in the Tuatha Dé Danann as the God of the Deep. Ruler of the Formodrians first came to the Aos Sí to follow her son, Lugh.” I read out loud before looking up. “Lugh? The God? Does that mean he’s here too?”

Cormac shrugged, sinking down in his care. “Why not? We have Balor, and Nuada. Why not make it a party?”

“A god party.” Rainn snickered.

“Don’t forget Belisama.” Tor shot me a sharp look.

Shay sat up. “Belisama?”

“Hmm.” Tor crossed his arms over his chest.

“Now isn’t the time to talk about that.” Rainn chuckled nervously. “So, why is Balor mentioned in relation to this Night Of A Thousand Fires?”

I looked back to the book. “According to whoever wrote this, everyone thought it was Balor, returning with more Formorians. They’re a kind of beast from the Domhain.”

“Balor is synonymous with beasts. Charybdis for example.” Cormac pointed out, pulling another book into his lap. “But continue.”

I bared my teeth but did as he asked. “Whatever came through those golden gates wasn’t a creature of Domhain.

It wasn’t anything to do with Balor or the Formorians.

The Fae were scared. They called the creatures the Eoin because they believed the gods had forsaken them and sent the creatures from the Tuatha Dé Danann to wipe out the Aos Sí. ”

Rainn let out a low whistle.

“That’s the thing.” Shay interrupted, taking the book from my hands.

“The Eoin, or the demons, didn’t do anything.

It says here the fae gathered all the boats on the Dark Sea and fired flaming piles of whatever they had on hand.

” Shay explained. “The leader of the demons, Cydaea, was murdered, and the demons fled through the gate.”

“The Night Of A Thousand Fires.” Cormac surmised. “I’d wager they set half of the Night Court on fire.”

“They did.” Shay gestured to the book. “But Cydaea’s body was never found.”

“Why is that important?” I wondered, craning my neck to see the page. Someone had sketched a woman, her eyes so pale the sockets looked almost empty. Her hair was long, and several tendrils stood like a nest of vipers ready to strike.

It clicked inside my mind as if the puzzle pieces suddenly made sense.

“The stories say the first Nymphs were born of a god and a demon.” I didn’t take my eyes off the page.

“Nymphs keep records. We sing songs of our ancestors.” Shay brushed a hand over his face. “It cannot be a coincidence that my great-great grandmother’s name is Cydaea .” Shay’s hands trembled so much that the book slipped from his grip.

Cormac dipped down and grabbed the tome before it hit the floor.

“It seems you and Maeve have more in common than you thought, Shay,” Tor said, studying his nails. “Maeve is a godling, though her lineage is much closer than yours. Perhaps you are relatives, hm?”

The tension grew thick in a single moment.

Rainn’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Belisama is a woman. I don’t think two women can make a youngling, right?”

“Gods can change form,” Shay said, distracted, as his mind worked through Tor’s sniping words.

Rainn plastered a bright smile on his face, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He put down his empty plate and flung his arm around Tor’s shoulders.

The Kelpie's eyes flashed yellow as he glanced at Rainn’s stained fingers perilously close to this face.

“What?” Tor snarled.

“We should go for a walk,” Rainn suggested, and though his tone was light, the look in his eyes was anything but.

Cormac stood up. “I’ll come too. Someone ate the food, and I’m still hungry.”

Rainn steered Tor away from the table before the Kelpie could protest, and the sound of Cormac and Rainn bickering over berries soon faded as they disappeared between the stacks.

I eyed Shay warily, and he met my look with one of his own.

“How much do you know?” I asked with a sigh.

“I know many things, but I’m not sure what you are referring to.” He met my question with a calm and measured stare.

“Belisama—”

“The God of the Waves.” He supplied.

I interrupted, “—is my mother.”

“I suspected.” Shay’s braids shifted, curling to form a crown atop his head. “You can sit on the High Throne.”

“To be fair, anyone can sit on the High Throne.” I shrugged. “They’ll just die if they do.”

Shay laughed, stopping abruptly as if startled by the sound. “That’s why Balor wants you to stay in Cruinn.” He surmised.

“She wants to lease me to Cormac and call on me when she needs the throne.” I knitted my fingers together, cradling them at my stomach. “Joint custody with Tarsainn.”

“Why would she need you to sit on the throne?” He asked.

I sucked my lips between my teeth. “It lets me see things. Every inch of the lake. Sometimes it’s too much. The throne always wants payment. It takes blood. Sometimes memories.” I explained, feeling the stone in my pocket grow heavier as if aware of the conversation.

“Just the lake?” Shay pressed.

My brow furrowed as I considered his question. “Truth be told, I don’t really know,” I admitted. “Usually, someone is there to listen to the words. I am not aware of everything I say or see.”

“A conduit.” He noted. “And Belisama was at my wedding?”

“Yes.” The word a harsh exhale.

Shay brushed his hand down his face. “We could be related.”

I winced. “I really hope not.”

Shay pulled his shirt at the neck, revealing his brand's lines. “And this?”

“I don’t know.” My hands shook, and I tucked them behind my back.

His chair squawked against the stone floor as he stood up. I didn’t dare meet his eyes.

I’d hidden my brand for so long.

Did he know? Had the others told him?

Shay approached me, bending at the waist and placing his face in my field of vision. His eyes flashed a rainbow of colors before settling on a stunning yellow topaz.

“What I would give to know your thoughts.” He whispered, his brow puckered as he studied my face like an unsolvable puzzle.

“Tor is angry with me.” I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Are you?”

“Surprised,” Shay bit back a smile.

“That the gods chose to put us together?” I guessed.

He shook his head. “Surprised you could keep a secret.”

“I distinctly remember you once told me that I did nothing but keep secrets,” I joked, remembering the drunk conversation after Shay’s failed wedding. “We could find a way to break the bond.”

“Why?” Shay’s braids lifted, and the beads in his hair shivered.

I swept my hand down my body. My clothes were still damp, and my hair was tangled and unkempt. I looked like a wild swamp thing. As if the years of sneering words from the Undine Court had caught up to me, I’d taken the appearance of what they believed me to be.

The Mad Queen’s daughter. A simple child, as insane as her dead mother.

“I don’t know if I can give you what you want,” I admitted. “I will never be beloved by your creed.”

Shay reached out, brushing a tendril of hair away from my cheek. “And if I told them of your bravery? How you dove into the water to slay a monster before it reached our shores?”

“That wasn’t brave,” I told him.

“Why not?”

I lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I couldn’t let it reach the shore. There were younglings in those tents.” I shook my head. “I was more scared of Charybdis than anything I’d ever seen. I wasn’t brave.”

“Isn’t bravery, by definition, the act of feeling fear by doing it anyway?” Shay’s brows lifted, and his eyes glowed a strange pinkish hue.

I eyed him as if he had lost his mind. “I don’t think so.”

Shay straightened his back, exhaling a burdened breath. “Is this about Tor and Rainn? Because I can assure you, we are friends. Good friends.”

“I’ve seen your version of good friends.” I put my hands on my hips. “It involves putting someone’s cock in your mouth.”

He shrugged. “I’m a Nymph. What do you expect.”

“Have you and...” Rainn, Tor, or Cormac, “done anything like that? Since Tarsainn?” I asked, grimacing at the question and immediately wishing I could reel it back between my lips.

Shay glanced at me. “Jealous?”

I rubbed my chest, feeling the raised mark of my brand through the damp fabric of my tunic. “No.” I realized the answer, though I hadn’t expected it, was the truth.

“Why not?” He asked, seeming genuinely curious.

I sunk down in the nearest chair, avoiding his gaze by looking at the abundance of open books on the table.

“Do you remember that prophecy?” I asked delicately as my fingers danced over an open page.

“The five creeds will meet over the divide of war, and only then will the lake know peace.” Shay recited from memory.

“We didn’t know what it meant. Not really.

Shíorghrá are rare. Multiple fated mates, even more so amongst Fae.

Many Shíorghrá take on aspects of their mates.

Can hear their thoughts or emotions. Too many conflicting magics would drive a person insane. ”