He shot me a smug grin. “There’s my wicked little princess.”
I bared my teeth.
The castle's walls were a labyrinth. Our route was entirely different from the night before. The attendant hurried ahead, and even with quick steps, they seemed to slip around every corner the moment we entered an empty corridor.
It took much longer than I expected to find the spiral staircase.
The air grew drier with every step.
My throat sucked together, desperate for moisture.
I missed the Twilight Lake.
I missed the water.
When we reached the archway, Cormac allowed me to pass, but he was never far from my side.
The circle of chairs was no longer empty; instead, each one was filled with strange beings—my eyes unfocused as I tried to look at them.
I recognized my mother, with her long platinum hair and endless dark eyes. The pearls were inlaid in her dark skin. She no longer held any hint of being Sídhe. Her hair rippled like the white surf of dangerous waters, and her skin shimmered like nighttime on the lake.
Manannán mac Lir sat at the head of the gathering, his long grey beard like fluffy storm clouds. A gull perched on his head, so still I thought it was a hat until its head snapped in my direction and the bird regarded us with beady eyes.
I was surprised to see Brígid next to my mother. Her cloudy eyes locked on the sea around us as she daydreamed. The grey woolen cloak and the facade of a haggard woman were gone. Brígid’s grey hair shone with every shade of purple, blooming with iris, lilacs, and lavender blossoms. The stoneunder her chair smoked, as if the soles of her feet were too hot for the ground underneath.
There were several other members of the Tuatha Dé Danann that I did not recognize.
The Twilight Lake worshipped Belisama, but we were not ignorant of other gods associated with water.
Belisama was the God of the Waves.
Manannán mac Lir was the God of the Sea.
A female sat, perched on the end of her chair, as she stared at the sky with longing. Her arms were coated in white feathers, though they were not a garment but part of her skin. Her eyes glittered, beady and quick-moving. Her dress moved, like rocks over a fast-moving river. My mother had told me once of a goddess named Lí Ban, who guarded the rivers that led to the Underworld—Domhain.
I counted twenty of the Tuatha Dé Danann, sat patiently in a circle in the blaring sun of the platform. The basin in the center was positioned like the moon surrounded by stars.
I padded forward, looking towards my mother for encouragement, but she did not meet my eyes.
Manannán mac Lir was preoccupied with glaring at Cormac, offering no clue about the meeting's content.
That left Brígid, who, aside from being blind, endured a horrid punishment night after night, by the very gods she sat next to. If she had retained her sanity, she certainly hadn’t retained enough social currency to argue for my clemency.
How could I convince a Quorum of gods that I didn’t deserve to be dead?
I wanted to go home to the Twilight Lake. To my mates.
Why did I feel like I was on trial?
“Maeve Cruinn.” Manannán mac Lir declared as I reached the circle of chairs. There was not a single free seat for me to take. “Welcome to the Quorum.”
I bit my tongue hard enough to taste blood.
The gods shifted their attention to Manannán mac Lir as one.
“Maeve Cruinn brings news of Balor.” The sea bird on top of Manannán mac Lir’s head squawked. “Balor survived the Battle of Mag Tuired. They retreated to the Aos Sí.”
“Belisama!” One of the male gods on the other side of the circle sat forward, brandishing his finger. “You were tasked with ensuring Balor would not regain power in the Aos Sí. Did you fail?”
