Page 20 of The Deep End of Death (Twilight Lake #4)
“When I realized that the blanket Rainn gave me was his skin... It crossed my mind.” I admitted. “Then I started seeing the markings on Tor’s skin. Cormac saw us kiss. He accused me of ‘ recruiting’ you all to my ‘ cause.’ ”
“And what would that cause be?” Shay snickered. “Because I think you’d rather pull out your fingernails than rule over Cruinn.”
The stone burned in my pocket at the mention of my once-home. Without the Kraken's eye, I wasn’t even sure if the High Throne worked anymore.
“What does it mean to rule?” I pondered, brushing my thumb over my bottom lip as the thought snagged me. “You will become chieftain when you marry. For all intents and purposes, you rule the Nymphs now. What does it mean?”
Shay bit back a self-deprecating chuckle. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes.” I nodded earnestly.
He took the seat opposite mine. “I settle disputes between mated couples, families, merchants. My healing magic benefits the village for obvious reasons. I take the responsibility for my people to be fed and safe. When I cannot find the solution through our own actions, I make agreements and trade with other creeds to ensure we prosper.”
“My uncle. The King of the Undine used to give me lessons.” I looked down at my thumb and picked the skin at the nail. “Liam, Elaine’s son, was always so jealous. He believed that I was learning everything you spoke of every time I went to that tower. The things a ruler should know.”
Shay’s eyes softened. “And what happened in that tower?”
The lump in my throat made it hard to breathe. “When I was a child, I was whipped if I didn’t sit on the High Throne. As I grew older, I learned that it didn’t matter how much I protested. Whatever happened, the High Throne would have my blood. One way or another.”
It was silent, save for my labored breathing as panic clasped my chest.
“The High Throne can see the entirety of the Twilight Lake,” I told him.
“When the fighting was thick at the front line, I would sit on the throne for hours. Relaying where each of the creeds sent their soldiers. Who was injured, and where we had gained ground.” The stone in my pocket turned red hot, reacting to my emotions.
It burned through the fabric of my trousers.
“Then, I was peeled from its teeth and thrown away until they needed me again. I was a tool to them. I’d spend hours tasting the blood of the front line.
Listening to the screams as hundreds of Undine turned to foam.
Then I would see the ‘Esteemed Undine Court’ hosting balls, night after night.
Drinking Fion Fola, eating rare fish, and watching dancers.
There was no talk of protection or feeding the masses.
No one spoke about how many were lost. People only mentioned the front line when the Troid Sídhe bragged about how many Mer they’d killed. ”
“Maeve...” Shay sat forward and placed a hand on mine. “You are the rightful heir to Cruinn. Ruling the Undine doesn’t have to be the same as it is now. It doesn’t have to be wilful ignorance and luxury at the expense of the lower classes.”
“I hate being here,” I told him, and a tear rolled down my cheek. “Ever since the Frosted Sands, I’ve been hungry and filthy, and I haven’t slept in the same bed for more than a week. I’m so tired, Shay. So fecking tired.”
“Maybe we could run away.” Shay’s plush lips ticked with a smile. “Find a small village, or maybe leave the Night Court altogether. Change our names and leave the lake behind.”
I shook my head before he’d even finished speaking. “The lake is my friend,” I told him. “I can’t leave her.”
He eyed me for a long moment. Though he said nothing, a feeling that wasn’t entirely mine stirred in my chest.
A strange darkness had settled under my skin since I’d taken the piece of the High Throne, but this feeling was different—like light filtering through the water’s surface.
Shay’s eyes lit up from within, reflecting what I felt.
“On the eve of the wedding,” He licked his lips. “You rejected me.”
I chuffed a laugh, “I didn’t want to be a conclusion. I want to be a choice .”
Shay inhaled a shaky breath, sitting back in his chair.
I continued. “You told me something once. That I pretended to be small. To be this weak little thing. That I could be so much more.”
“I meant it.” His jaw hardened.
I rubbed my hand over my lips. “I realize that this may seem rather oblivious, but I always just assumed that everyone could do the things I could. That the lake spoke to them the way it spoke to me. I was told repeatedly that I would discover my magic the day I reached my majority. When that didn’t happen, it never occurred to me that perhaps I had magic all along. ”
“I’d laugh, but I had a similar experience.” The braids surrounding his face shivered. “It is not always obvious if one of my blood can breathe underwater. As you can imagine, parents don’t often throw their younglings into the lake if they aren’t sure they will survive.”
“How did you find out?” I wondered.
“I was a precocious child.” Shay shot me a conspiring grin. “Fed on a diet of heroic tales told around the firelight. Of Lugh and his wolves, or Brigid and her well of plenty.”
“Nymphs hold true to the old ways,” I noted with a seldom nod. “I remember the artifacts in the village.”
“My father started a collection.” Shay reached out, brushing a finger across the worn cover of one of the many books on the table. “My father, Shayne, was known for granting anyone an audience if you could gift him something of interest.”
“Interest? Not value?” I cocked my head to the side.
“To my father, they were one and the same. He prided himself on stories. Do you remember Belisama’s cup?” Shay asked.
A chill crept up my spine. “How could I forget?” I murmured, though I wasn’t sure he heard me.
“Belisama was not always associated with water. Gods of the Tuatha Dé Danann are seldom one thing alone.” Shay’s eyes glazed, and his words took on a familiar cadence that implied he’d told this story many times before.
“Belisama and Brigid are sisters. While Brigid was associated with wells and waterways, Belisama was known for her lakes. My father used to say that Belisama must have been prone to tears because the number of lakes in the Aos Sí could only come from a woman scorned.”
“My mother used to say the same thing,” I murmured, deep in thought. “She often said that the Twilight Lake was the first Belisama made, from tears of mourning for the lack of water in the Night Court.”
Shay’s eyes rounded. “Just so.”
I bit back a laugh. “You were saying...”
He cleared his throat, coming back to himself. “Gods cannot stay in the Aos Sí for long. They require an anchor of sorts connected to their magic. It was said that Belisama could not leave the water for long until a wily Nymph came up with a solution.”
“The cup.” I smiled as the pieces clicked together in my mind. “So she could bring the lake with her wherever she went.”
Shay snapped his fingers, pointing at me. A look of pride crossed his face. “Exactly!” He exclaimed.
“How did you come to possess such a cup?” I wondered out loud, my brow creasing as my thoughts continued. “How can you know the cup is really Belisama’s avatar?”
“Did your mother ever leave the lake?” He asked.
I pursed my lips. “Well, no,” I admitted reluctantly.
“When it comes to Gods, we cannot say for sure if the artifacts are authentic, but most of the time, they are valuable in their own right due to their age. That cup can be dated to the beginning of the Night King’s reign.”
“Five thousand years,” I whispered, my eyes rounded.
“Just so.” Shay nodded.
Our eyes met, and the brand flashed white hot, though it was a delicious kind of pain. The air filled with a strange smell that I didn’t recognize, and my nose crinkled as I tried to place the scent.
Shay sat back, letting out an uncharacteristic chuckle. “The gods have a sense of humor. I’ll give them that.” He said, rubbing his chin.
“What is that smell?” I wondered, searching for the source of the scent amongst the rows and rows of books.
“Have you heard of the Blush?” Shay asked delicately.
I shook my head, still frowning.
“There is a rare but delicious plant that makes its home on the banks of the lake. The Blush root.” He continued. “It is poisonous unless prepared correctly, turning the plain root into a gooey desert. It has a delicious smell. Sugary, but not too sweet.”
“Blush root?” I repeated dubiously.
“Nymphs call it that for one reason. It is the smell usually accompanied by the blush of arousal. Amongst Nymphs, of course.”
“Arousal has a smell?” My voice cracked.
“You didn’t notice?” He cocked his head to the side.
“There aren’t a lot of smells underwater.” My cheeks warmed. “So, this smell. The Blush, as you call it. Are you...” I waved a hand toward his waist.
An unexpected laugh burst from his lips. “Maeve, the Blush is the scent of a female Nymph’s arousal.” He said gently.
I sat up, craning my neck. “You think there are Nymphs here . In Murk?”
His mirth dissolved, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “That rather alluring scent is coming from you .”
I sat back, affronted. “I’m not a Nymph.”
Shay pulled the neck of his tunic down, revealing the edge of his brand. “Nymph enough for a mating mark.”
“I...” My hand cupped my throat. Words stolen. I sniffed the air, reveling in the pleasant sweet smell.
Shay’s cheeks were pink, his eyes glazed as if he had drunk too much Fion Fola. The scent of my arousal, amplified by whatever Nymph magic that supported our brands, was affecting Shay Mac Eoin.
I’d walked a tightrope for so long, unsure of my feelings and ability to recognize them.
I wanted Shay Mac Eoin.
I’d struggled with the notion that I had only wanted Shay because I already had Rainn and Tormalugh—collecting males to fulfill some deathbed prophecy.
Shay was as complex and multifaceted as the waves of the Dark Sea. Honest and loyal, with a desire to help others, even strangers.