“Who are you?” Cormac turned to my mother, eyes flashing.
I held my arm out in front of his chest. “Cormac, this is Belisama. My mother.”
Whatever words sat on his tongue died. His face went curiously blank.
I’d never seen Cormac rendered speechless before.
“The others will arrive soon.” Belisama gestured to the chairs. “Look into the basin. Quickly!”
“The basin?” Cormac echoed.
“It is a window to the Aos Sí.” Belisama drifted forward, as lightly as a ghost.
“Can we see Tormalugh? Shay Mac Eoin? Rainn?” Cormac hurried forward, excitedly.
“Tor—who?” I frowned. “I don’t—” My head began to hurt.
Cormac’s brow pinched. “You don’t remember your Shíorghrá?”
“You’re my Shíorghrá.” I gave him a weak smile as I cracked my head.
Belisama’s eyes flicked between us. “I believe Balor may have tampered with Maeve’s Shíorghrá bonds. It may be why she isn’t able to remember them, after passing through the ether.”
“What are you talking about?” I growled, wincing in pain.
Cormac and Belisama ignored me.
“Maeve was acting very oddly in the Dark Sea. I assumed it was because of the High Throne and the Kraken’s eye.” Cormac’s lips pinched.
Belisama shook her head. “I believe her bonds were poisoned.”
“Balor—” I thought of the empty feeling in my chest. Of being held down on the High Throne. The hunger.
No one came to save me.
No one.
“Come to the basin.” Belisama urged, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and steering us past the line of chairs. I did not dare argue. I was too weak to do so anyway.
From a distance, the basin could have been mistaken for a sundial, given its shallow appearance. Ordinary stone, on a cracked pillar.
As I approached, Cormac and my mother stepped back, though I didn’t know why. The basin was wholly unremarkable, though it felt strangely familiar, like returning home at the end of a tiring day.
I placed my hands on the lip of the basin and craned my neck, out of curiosity more than a desire to see anything in the Aos Sí.
The water rippled, and a dark-headed male filled the bowl. His eyes shimmered a strange gold color, his skin marked with dark tattoos.
Tormalugh.
Cormac had said his name, but I hadn’t been able to draw a face into my mind.
My chest hurt. Everything hurt.
I had seen Tormalugh in my dreams, reaching for me.
The water rippled again, and two males filled the bowl.
One with braids that shifted and twitched, his skin was burnished amber, and his nose was prominent in a somewhat regal way. Lips plush, and eyes that changed color as I looked at them.
