Cormac opened his mouth to speak, but I stopped him. We both knew my mother’s prophecy, but I had the feeling that Cethlenn was not done with whatever wisdom she spoke. Her eyes glazed as she seemed to pull the words from the ether, faraway.
“Each creed will sacrifice their greatest treasure, for the heart of the lake.” She continued, her words slow and thick. “For the heart must trust the compass, and the compass guides the heart.”Cethlenn blinked and came back to herself.
Cormac eyed her warily. “You’re a soothsayer? You’ve got that eerie stare they all possess.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Met many soothsayers then, Illfinn?”
He rolled his eyes but did not answer.
Cethlenn slapped her cheek to wake herself, and sucked her pipe thoughtfully. “Lugh won’t agree to make a weapon.”
“Yousawthat?” Cormac’s eyes narrowed.
Cethlenn lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “The bastard has gone mad, and I say that with as much affection as a grandmother can possess. Lugh leads the Wild Hunt. Cursed, by some Weaver wench, not unlike you, Cormac Illfinn of the Mer.”
“My tail is not a curse!” He snapped.
I held my arm out in front of Cormac’s chest, fully believing that he would jump on the old woman and punch her in the throat. Cormac’s nostrils flared, but he calmed himself quickly, cracking his neck from side to side.
“Lugh is cursed?” I asked.
Cethlenn shrugged again. “It all grows so tedious.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Poor bastard doesn’t know one day from the next. He travels the realms, collecting Fae souls forthe Tuatha Dé Danann. The Aos Sí, the Domhain, the Human Realities. When you walk in three worlds, your mind is split three ways.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Elsbeth Shadowhock
Elsbeth had not a clue what Rian Swiftgait planned to do to the reeds protecting the Kelpie city, but their study of the writhing black darkness had gathered a crowd.
Her guards remained, as they always did, surrounding her without standing in front, dressed in armor, and ominous to a fault.
Elsbeth crossed her arms over her chest as she watched the scarred male at the end of the platform.
The Reeds were ancient. Magic gifted by Belisama themself. But they were not infallible.
Many of the more intricate Kelpie magicks had been lost to time. As the creeds of the lake separated and remained in their own little worlds, the Kelpies lost many of the abilities that had made them formidable Wild Fae.
Rian shoved his hands directly into the reeds, and they sucked him in without hesitation.
Elsbeth’s stomach flipped, and she realized what a bad idea the entire affair was.
Rian Swiftgait was a stranger, and the city’s namesake reeds were the most crucial protection her creed had.
Elsbeth stepped forward, her hand outstretched and a protest on her tongue.
Rian stepped out of the Reeds, shaking his head. He looked rather pale.
“What—” The word was barely out of her mouth before the Reeds turned to mist, the thick tendrils steaming and releasing shadowy fog into the water.
She knew it! He’d done something to the Reeds. Her teeth sharpened in her mouth, and she felt her nose wrinkle as her rage turned to metal in her mouth. “What have you done?” She snarled.
Rian ignored her, swimming forward as his body shifted into its four-legged form. “RUN!” He shouted, his voice ended on an equine shriek, full of terror. “THE CITY IS UNDER ATTACK—” His words ended on a strangled yelp as his body finished changing forms.
Elsbeth felt his fear as an endless blackhole, all-consuming. Whatever lay on the outside of the Reeds, whatever was seeping into the city, was something an ancient fae was too scared to face.
She threw up her hands, summoning the shadows that gave her bloodline its name.
Tormalugh used to call his abilities ‘small magics’. He could hide in a corner and listen to conversations. He could shadow-step small distances. Her brother’s skills lay with the blade.
