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CHAPTER LV

AISLING

Sticky and sweet, Aisling swallowed the Goblet’s brew gulp by gulp.

Her veins bubbled like champagne, her draiocht startled awake, and her pupils dilated fully. She felt the magic inside like the creature it was, possessing her body as a capsule for its power. Endless possibilities pricked at her fingertips. She could both create and destroy. Could dip her fingertips into the molten belly of the Forge and retrieve whatever her mind imagined. The world, the universe, magic as old as time, was hers.

Niamh watched her closely as she lowered the Goblet.

Aisling’s eyes shone vivid violet, illuminating her face with an eerie glow.

“And now?” Aisling asked. Her voice was not her own. It was now accompanied by another—perhaps the Forge itself, nestling inside her lungs and commanding her voice as had Anduril. And once more, it was a sacrifice she’d make.

“And now,” Niamh said, “speak your will.”

Aisling stared up at the gateway. It watched her in return, studying her strength as she studied its own.