“Come on!” Rainn protested, his feet heavy as they trooped through the forest by the shore. “We’d be there in less than an hour if you flew us.”
“I’m amazed you think I have the energy after flying your fat rumps halfway across the Night Court,” Arden replied dryly. “I don’t even have the energy to fly myself.” He gestured to his back, where his wings had disappeared in a puff of smoke and shadows.
Shay Mac Eoin forged on ahead, more energetic than both of them. Their encounter had given Shay more energy than Rainn had realized—how long had the Nymph operated at such a low level, starved for sexual energy, without saying a single word?
Rainn felt a deep pang of sympathy. He knew that Nymphs only took their Shíorghrá to bed once they had mated, and he hadn’t expected Shay to have accepted his advances. Their bond with Maeve was typically understood as a circle, pointing inwards. However, he couldn’t deny that he was attracted to each of the males that Maeve had collected. Even Cormac, though Rainn knew the feeling was not mutual.
“I did not have a chance to ask upon your return…” The siren said, frowning. “But what did you find in the Dark Sea?”
“You sound skeptical,” Rainn noted.
“Many years have passed since my brother died,” Arden stated plainly. “It was a fool’s errand, one that my mother designed to get Maeve as far from Balor as possible.”
“You say that…” Rainn clicked his tongue against his teeth. “But she made a bargain with King Irvine for information.”
“King Irvine had been around for over a thousand years.” Arden pointed out. “Maeve is what, twenty years old?”
“I don’t know her age.” Rainn cocked his head to the side. “Though the Undine reach majority in their mid-twenties.”
“You are avoiding my question.” Arden stopped walking.
Rainn heaved a heavy sigh. “Has your mother ever mentioned something called the Night of a Thousand Fires?”
Arden looked blankly. “No.”
“Before your mother came to live by the Dark Sea, she was married to the King of the Night Court. Darragh is his son.”
A queer look crossed Arden’s features. “Go on.”
“A host of creatures came from another place. Not Fomorians from the Domhain, but demons from a different realm. Your mother took Darragh Eoin, and together they faced the creatures. The Dark King believes your mother died in this battle. He also believes that Darragh passed in the same battle.” Rainn eyed the siren. “You mentioned that the Dark King had Darragh’s wings above his throne?”
“Does he?” Arden’s gaze grew sharp.
Rainn shook his head. “No.”
The siren slumped, like a pufferfish with all the air let out.
“But he gave us a feather.” Rainn continued.
Arden reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “Where is it?”
Rainn jerked a chin toward Shay, so far from them both that he couldn’t hear them. “Shay Mac Eoin has it.”
Arden wrenched his hand back.
Rainn brushed his shoulder, as if to disinfect the touch. The siren was not offended, too preoccupied with watching the Nymph quickly disappearing further down the path.
Arden turned back to Rainn, his eyes narrowed. “My mother obviously did not die at the hands of these demons.” He said carefully.
“From what I understand,” Rainn sucked his lips between his teeth as he chose his words. “Your brother fell in love with one of the demons.”
Arden’s eyes widened.
“It is my belief that your brother chopped his own wings off to feign his death. As your mother feigned hers to escape the Night King.” Rainn kept his voice as delicate as possible. “I believe he went on to father several children with Crydea—the demon.”
“Nuada’s bloodline,” Arden whispered. “Did you find any of my kin?”
Rainn jerked his chin toward Shay, who was now a small speck on the path ahead. “I believe you know them as Nymphs.”
