Shadowy masses unfurled where the balcony overlooked the sea. Hollow, sunken faces with eyes glowing like midnight fires appeared beneath black cloaks. Two forms took shape, their feet never quite touching the ground.
Tethra and Dian had arrived.
Balor was still not among them.
Maeve stood and the Furies bowed before her.
“My queen,” they murmured in unison, their voices low and gravelly.
“Tethra. Dian.” Maeve beamed, brilliant as the sun. But a tiny line crinkled across her brow. “Where’s Balor?”
“Maeve.” Tiernan pushed back from his seat and came to stand beside her. “It’s time we talk about everything that happened in the Ether, and all that happened here while you were gone.”
Tiernan hated to have this conversation so soon, but there was no other way. With war looming steadily on the horizon, it was best if they laid all their cards upon the table, even if some of them were the hardest of truths.
Maeve sat back down,the food she had eaten settling in her stomach like a rock. Much time had passed while she was in the Ether, too much if she was being honest. She twisted her hands in her lap, silently cursing herself for not understanding the implied meaning behind Aed’s words sooner. She should’ve known better. She should havelistened. If she’d only asked to come home, then he would’ve brought her back. They could have strategized and planned out the best way to defeat Parisa. Instead, that bitch of a fae was hidden away behind her dense wall of impenetrable magic and they were blind to her intentions.
Guilt gnawed at Maeve.
“So,” Merrick drawled, leaning back in his chair and tucking his hands behind his head. “Who wants to go first?”
Tiernan clasped Maeve’s hand, threading their fingers together. “I’ll start.”
As hersirra’s story unfolded around her, Maeve struggled to break free from the claws of remorse latched around her heart. She heard the pain in his voice when he told her about Faeven dying, how the Four Courts seemed on the verge of utter collapse without her. Because if she had been in Niahvess where she belonged, none of that would have happened. Even though he explained they originally thought Parisa was behind the devastation, Maeve couldn’t help but feel she was the one at fault.
But she sat in silence while he told her of theSyol Lorhr, a sentient book of ancient lore inked in runes with blood from the goddess Danua. Maeve thought about asking if she could read the book, perhaps she could make sense of these runes, but then Tiernan mentioned Maghmell and she jerked upright in her seat.
“Wait. You went to Maghmell?” Maeve stared at him, fully aware of the dangers behind such an errand. Tiernan had almostdied there once, he told her as much. To think he went backagain,Maeve couldn’t comprehend such madness.
“I did.” Tiernan nodded. “With Aran.”
Maeve’s heart tumbled from her chest, her breathing grew shallow.
“They fought off a pack of cursedfaolanand a sea serpent.” Merrick winked, as though it was a joke of some kind.
“Barely,” Tiernan muttered, his tone darkening. But then his gaze slid to Maeve and the lines of his face softened. “Your wolfling can stay so long as she doesn’t try to kill me.”
Maeve gave him a weak smile. “How did you survive?”
He paled.
Panic spiked through her, swift as a blade. Her blood ran cold, freezing her from the inside out. Fear strangled her. “Not Aran?—”
“No! Gods, no.” Tiernan grabbed her then, hauling her into his lap. He brushed her hair back from her face, soothing her. Calming her. “Aran is safe. He’s currently sailing to Wenfyre to ask the druid queen there for assistance in the war against Parisa.”
“It was Balor who saved us, Maeve.” Tiernan spoke softly but she heard the harbored regret that clung to every word. “Without him, Aran and I would have died in the Kethwyn Woods.”
“I see.” Maeve stared at the toes of her boots, unable to meet anyone’s gaze. She already knew what Tiernan would say next, but she asked anyway. “And where is Balor now?”
“There’s been no sign of him since.”
Her shoulders dropped and she slumped against Tiernan’s chest. She’d thought the Furies to be incapable of dying, though she supposed everyone, otherworldly being or not, had their limits. The war hadn’t even begun and already she’d lost so much. So many. How many more would die at her command?She stole a hasty glance around the table, daring a look at each one of them from beneath her lashes. These were her friends, her family. She would fight with them. For them. But Maeve was no fool. Death never played favorites. Her nose tingled, and she pressed her lips together in a firm line. She would not cry here. Tears would only cut open a weakness, a wound of the heart for all to see.
She ducked her head, letting her curtain of hair block her face from view. But even through the golden pink strands, she spied a pair of lavender eyes watching her every move.
Tethra knelt before her, drawing her attention back to the Furies. His wraith-like body expanded in long shadows, never quite touching the ground. He reached out, placing one chilling finger beneath her chin, and tilted her head up to meet his blazing eyes. “He followed them of his own accord, my queen.He did only what he knew you would have asked of him. If he is indeed no longer with us, then his death was one of great honor.”
The Fury fell back and stood, stepping next to his brother.
