Page 80 of The Dark Will Fall


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“I’m a Mer.”

He cupped my cheek. “You’re Maeve.”

I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. “We’re home. Cormac. We got back. I thought we would be gone forever. The Tuatha Dé Danann, the Spring Court—” A sob lodged itself into my throat.

“We’re home.” Cormac brushed his thumb over the scar under my eye. Where my crescent pearl once sat. His lips met mine, somehow conveying the jubilation and trauma mixed together. Neither of us had confronted our deaths, not really. We hadn’t hadtime.

The Sídhe worshiped the Tuatha Dé Danann. We would murmur their names in prayer and thank them for small boons. To consolidate the gods I had seen, bickering and half-mad, with the benevolent gods I had believed in, would take a while to get used to.

I had placed my mother on a pedestal, even after finding out her identity as Belisama. I had hoped there would be some comfort, some relationship there, but it seemed that the gods viewed time and death differently.

But none of that was important now.

“We have to find the others.” I nodded to myself. “We don’t know how much time has passed. Or what Balor has done in our absence.”

Cormac agreed. “Where we are would be a good start.”

“This is the Twilight Lake,” I told him, feeling the water wrap around me like a friend. “I would know it anywhere.” My body began to tip, and Cormac righted me. His lips pressed into a line, and his eyes sparkled as he held back laughter.

I slapped his arm. “It’s not funny!”

“It’s kind of funny.” He admitted.

“Having a tail is harder than it looks.” My jaw hardened, and I looked away.

Cormac nudged my cheek, directed my gaze back to his. “I think it’s cute.”

My nose wrinkled.

“Do you recognize anything?” Cormac swam to the side, his hand on my arm to steady me.

“I should.” I winced. “We’ve swum the length of the Twilight Lake, haven’t we?”

“Lugh’s doorway should have taken us to the Nymph Village.” Cormac’s heavy brow creased.

Around us was open water. The surface above us, and the lake-bed, too far down to see.

A dull roar echoed in the distance. “I recognize that sound.”

“As do I,” Cormac admitted. “The Whispering Pass.”

“We’re close to Tarsainn then.” I agreed, I curled my stomach, attempting to kick my legs to remain upright.Swimming with a tail was harder than it looked. I wasn’t sure I liked it. I turned my attention to the staff in my hand. Frowning, as I studied the gnarled wood.

If the Dagda’s magic gave the Kraken’s eye its power, then maybe the staff would allow me to see as the High Throne had. It was worth a shot. I knew it would hurt, but it was necessary to find out where we were. Or if enemies lurked in the depths below.

Reaching for the magic was surprisingly simple, though the staff did not demand payment in blood. My fist tightened, and like a forgotten limb, I focused onbecomingthe water.

I cast my mind out, becoming one with every drop. The staff grew warm in my hand.

I saw them in my mind’s eye.

An army of thousands. Not foam, as they should be, but husks, filled with darkness and shadows. Trawling the lake floor and devouring all in their path.

The Tuatha Dé Danann had been right.

First, the Fomorians would devour the Aos Sí.

And it seemed like they had already started.