Tiernan looked over at his twin.
She inclined her head, a wave of soft blonde falling in front of her face. “The Vista will offer the best vantage point.”
“Alright.” Dread curled inside Tiernan, but he stood, ready to face whatever was threatening his home. “Then let’s go.”
* * *
Tiernanfadedto the small,one-room cabin perched on the mountain bordering Summer and Autumn. He breathed in and regretted it almost instantly. The Vista smelled of cinnamon smoke and lightly sweetened vanilla. Like Maeve. Her scent lingered and with it came the memories of the night they shared, when the stars danced between them.
His hands coiled into fists, and he took another breath, this time to steady himself.
He stalked toward the wide expanse of windows that looked out over the Autumn and Winter Courts.
As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but thick, gray clouds. It was as though the sun had been stolen away, hidden in another world. Or another realm.
Ceridwen stepped up beside him. “Look closer,” she whispered.
He did, and what he saw was enough to make his heart stop beating.
Everything looked to be…withering.
The leaves of Autumn were falling, their bright, blazing colors now stale and drained. The trees were bowed over, the branches weeping. Beyond, in Winter, he should’ve been able to just see the steep mountains with their crystalline, white-topped peaks. Instead, they looked ashen. Below him, even Summer was feeling the effect of this unforeseen devastation. Its lush landscape was shriveling in on itself. The river cutting through the mountains, once a beautiful turquoise blue, was dark and leaden as though it had been doused with bottles of ink. Flowers with some of the most stunning, fragrant blooms had lost all of their petals, their stems blunt and lacking life.
“Gods above.” Tiernan had never seen anything like it. He’d never witnessed such a thing.
Faeven was dying.
ChapterFive
“The Dawnbringer was created from the very breath of the goddess of life. Forged from sunlight, she was crafted with exquisite care, ensuring she was not only the epitome of beauty, but also strength and fortitude. She was radiance. She was perfection.” Rowan unfolded his hands and a world took shape. “A demigoddess whose power was both admired and feared.In all forms, she was the beginning of Faeven, the lifeblood of the world’s most ancient magic."
Maeve stared, awestruck, as archaic images from the before wove around her. She was no longer in the library, but had been transported to some wondrous place where the brilliance of the sun turned the rugged mountain peaks gold. Where rivers of sapphire were set against a backdrop of emerald hills bursting with wildflowers of every color. Wispy clouds painted a cerulean sky and a forest of evergreen rose at the base of the mountains. As the gentle breeze rustled through the branches, the massive trees whispered stories of lore.
Rowan stepped up beside her.
She glanced over at him, at the way the wind ruffled his hair.
“What is this place?” she whispered.
He placed a finger to his lips, silencing her.
The Dawnbringer was glorious. She danced with otherworldly elegance, her body a reflection of the auroras. Though she was nude, there were no definite marks or features about her, instead only outlines of gold. Blooming flowers tilted their blossoms toward her, yearning to bask in her light.
“But as with all things,” Rowan murmured, his shoulder brushing lightly against her own, “there must be balance.”
A figure stepped from the shadows of the mountains, emerged from the darkness lingering on the forest floor, illuminated by the sparkle of a thousand stars. Silvery moonbeams cloaked his skin and when he moved, it was with lethal grace. He was the touch of death. The end of all life, molded from the violence of destruction.
Maeve’s breath frosted before her. Cold sank deep into her bones, chilling her from the inside out. She inched closer to Rowan.
“How are you doing this?” She absorbed the two beings before her. The air pulsed with magic, filling her with longing for a time she never lived. “It’s so real.”
“Shh.” He nodded toward them. “Just watch.”
The Nightweaver eclipsed the Dawnbringer, standing before her until there was only a halo of light against the silhouette of darkness. Ribbons of midnight wrapped around threads of gold, and Maeve held her breath when the bringer of the dawn stepped into the weaver of the night. Glittering bursts of sunlight swirled around silky moonbeams as the two beings lost themselves in one another. It was a delicate dance of shadows and luminescence. Stars burst all around the two of them like rain, casting tiny rainbows in the lustrous glow of light.
Mesmerized, Maeve didn’t dare look away, even though it felt as though she was intruding upon some intimate moment.
Above them, twin orbs appeared—one gold, one silver—floating like twinkling spheres of faerie light. They joined together, a singular orb reflecting the twilight hour, infused by flecks from the sun and dozens of stars. A sense of familiarity washed over Maeve but then a smooth, haunting voice spoke words with such earnestness, they reverberated in her soul.
