Page 34 of The Deep End of Death (Twilight Lake #4)

Cillian Lane joined us through the Silver, taking us back to Murk.

The city guards had been made aware of our arrival, but that didn’t stop the glares when Shay Mac Eoin joined us on the other side of the silver.

I was desperate to return to the Twilight Lake, Balor or not. Every time Shay received a harsh look, I was ready to commit murder.

We walked to the shore, greeted by the mists that swathed the town of Murk. Cillian’s presence ensured that the scant amount of the town’s fae kept their distance.

“The Night King’s son.” Shay flashed a tight-lipped smile.

Cillian reached into his pocket, producing a feather as dark as night. Though most Sirens bore shining gold, silver, or bronze wings, the feather in Cillian’s hand shone like it had been chipped from an obsidian block. Nuada’s wings were black as well.

Cormac stepped forward, his hand outstretched, in awe. “Is that—?”

Cillian Lane turned the feather over in front of his face, examining how the color shone a rainbow in the dim light.

“Tis my brother’s feather. Though my father destroyed the wings long ago, in a fit of mourning, I snagged a single feather.

This is the last remaining part of Darragh Mac Lane.

The firstborn son of the Queen of Air and Darkness. ”

“What happened to him?” I asked, staring at the feather.

Cillian’s eyes glazed over, and his mind drifted to his memory. “It was the Night of a Thousand Fires. As my father said, my mother and eldest brother, winged as they were, scouted the area with the other Sylphs .”

“Sylph?” Rainn piped up.

“Air elementals,” Shay whispered out of the side of his mouth.

Cillian continued as if they hadn’t spoken.

“The demons killed my mother and captured my brother. The leader, Cydaea, gave his wings to the pirates. To a captain of the name Constance Aquifer. A Merrow. Aquifer delivered the wings to my father as a taunt from the demons and proof of his death. We hunted the others. The Mac Eoins—the abominations. The King saw that no demon would live in the Night Court as long as he reigned.”

“And Captain Aquifer?” I wondered. “The Merrow?”

Cillian shrugged. “Killed for delivering the message, I was told.”

It was as the Night King said, or perhaps, believed.

Nuada, the Siren Queen, was very much alive, and if she truly was the Queen of Air and Darkness—the Night King’s wife—she had faked her death.

Something told me the Nymphs were involved somehow, but I couldn’t piece it together.

All of the Nymphs could summon pale blue eyes.

Shay had told me as much. There were so many different Nymph bloodlines, and only one had sprouted from Cydaea, the demon queen that had come to the Aos Sí on the Night of a Thousand Fires.

Cillian reached forward, clapping his hand on Shay’s shoulder. “My debt to you is paid.”

Shay’s eyes softened. “There was never a debt.”

I wondered how I hadn’t seen it before—the regal bearing and the same prominent nose.

Cillian Lane and Shay Mac Eoin shared a bloodline.

Though it had been splintered. Shay Mac Eoin’s skin was much darker than Cillian’s, but their features were similar.

The same high cheekbones, though Cillian Lane now sported a scar as the price for helping us.

The bloodline of a demon and a god.

Darragh Eoin, the blood of Nuada, and Cydaea, the demon queen.

Had Darragh Eoin faked his death, as Nuada had done?

“If I think about this anymore, my head will burst.” I pressed my palm to my brow. It was growing harder to think by the minute. The stone in my pocket was a dull screech I could no longer ignore.

“This is as far as I can take you.” Cillian Lane told us. “But this feather is a token of my thanks.”

“We didn’t do anything.” Shay raised his brows.

Cillian gave us a knowing look. “I will steer the search away from the border.”

None of us acknowledged the boon, and though Tor had freed the Kelpies from their servitude, they wouldn’t be safe until they reached the Reeds. And perhaps not even then.

“I took the trouble to procure you a vessel.” Cillian continued, waving to the water. “Though it’s not as glamorous as the Glittering Diamond , it’s unlikely to draw the attention of the Thiggen.”

A rowboat sat at the edge of the rotting pier, extending into the water and disappearing into the mist—barely big enough for the four of us.

Cillian Lane’s brow furrowed as he looked out onto the water. “I’m concerned that you have made an enemy of my father.” He warned. “If you could answer a question before you go, I’d be much appreciative.”

Shay’s brow furrowed. “Of course.”

“ Who is searching for my brother?” Cillian cocked his head to the side. “His wings were given to my father as a trophy, found on the shore by the pirates. A Siren cannot survive without their wings.”

We exchanged a glance.

Shay Mac Eoin reached into his pocket, pulling out the pearl the Nuada had given him all those weeks ago. He extended his open palm, and the black pearl stood, catching the moonlight. He said nothing.

Cillian’s features were locked in place. He didn’t ask where we had gotten the pearl. His reaction said it all. The Queen of Air and Darkness and Nuada were one and the same. Cillian reached out, plucking the pearl from Shay’s hand. He held it up, studying it.

“The gods cannot survive in the Aos Sí,” Cillian said thoughtfully. “They need an avatar. Did you know that?”

My lips pursed as I remembered the story about Belisama and her cup.

Shay said what I was thinking.

“Belisama’s cup.” He nodded to himself.

Cillian winced. “There is a belief that avatars are not items but people. Vessels for the Tuatha Dé Danann. They do not have bodies like we do. They must find them if they come to the Aos Sí.” He did not take his eyes from the pearl.

“All gods that roam the Aos Sí were once people with lives, family, and magic. My mother, Clodagh, was once a gentle soul before she petitioned the gods. She was a kind and benevolent queen until she became more.”

Had Balor once been a person instead of a God?

What poor soul had she taken hostage in the name of her chaos?

And had my mother done the same?

We said our goodbyes and climbed into the rowboat. I offered to row but was heavily rebuffed.

I waited until the land disappeared from view, sailing away from the mists of Murk and Cillian Lane’s lone silhouette on the beach.

I had made another enemy.

First Balor, and now the Night King.

I would have done it all again. To free Tor and save Shay’s life, but I couldn’t stop the dark cloud from forming over my thoughts.

Though we were heading back across the Dark Sea, at a no doubt slower speed than we could all swim, it wasn’t victorious. We had Darragh Eoin’s feather but not much else.

Would telling the Siren Queen my suspicions put the Nymphs at risk?

The demons, the Nymphs, and Darragh Eoin were connected—the Merrow knew something.

I had more significant issues at hand. The stone, closer to the water, burned hot enough to melt my skin, dissolving the fabric of my dress pocket and marking the skin of my leg.

I reached down, gripping my piece of the High Throne.

I hoped the attention would alleviate the stone’s burning rage, but it screamed enough that my head pounded as if I’d drank too much Fion Fola.

If I thought I could, I would have tossed the damned thing overboard.

Tor had seen through my carefully constructed mask, and I wasn’t about to break my promise to him.

The next time I saw Tor, I would be Maeve again.

It was time.

I had to return the piece of the High Throne to the Kraken.

I didn’t want to, but I had to.

Even if it meant there was no way to stop Balor from ruling over the Twilight Lake and turning the water into shadows like her precious abyss.

“What’s that?” Cormac narrowed his eyes, studying the stone in my hand. It was the size of an orange, pitted, and ugly. I didn’t know if he could sense the magic, but I was Sídhe and couldn’t lie. Not that I wanted to.

It was time to come clean.

I wished that Tormalugh was in the boat with us so I might finally admit the source of the darkness I had carried with me for weeks, but I had to trust that he would be okay. He had over twenty Kelpies with him and could return to the Twilight Lake faster than we could.

“It’s a piece of the High Throne,” I admitted, my chin jutting as I met the Mer-King’s eyes.

Cormac blinked, unmoving before he cleared his throat.

Failed and then tried again, seemingly choking on his own saliva.

“The High Throne? Fecking hell. You can’t just pull those cards out at the end of the game, Princess.

This isn’t a fecking game of Usurper!” Cormac cursed, his hands clenched and pressed against his thighs.

Rainn and Shay stopped rowing, missing my declaration and catching only Cormac’s reaction.

“Did you just tell him he’s your mate?” Shay piped up. “Because I’ve been waiting for this.”

“Did she feck! And she’s not my mate. She hasn’t got a tail!” Cormac spluttered. “Maeve Cruinn has a piece of the fecking High Throne in her pocket. Stole it right out from Balor.”

“You don’t need to swear all the fecking time.” Rainn rolled his sky-blue eyes.

“You just said feck too.” Shay pointed out with a grin.

“You’re missing the fecking point!” Cormac cried. “What is that?”

“Is what?” Rainn balanced his oar on his palm.

“The stone,” Shay replied.

“The piece of the High Throne.” Cormac gestured to the small boulder in my hand.

“I didn’t steal it from Balor.” I snapped, clutching the stone closer. “It belongs to the Cruinn family. It belongs to me .”

“That’s a piece of the High Throne?” Rainn eyed the stone dubiously.

“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. It hurt to think. To speak. “ Mine .”

“Is that the Kraken’s eye?” Rainn squinted, no doubt remembering my bargain with the Kraken.

“Yes.” My teeth were still locked together.