Page 38 of The Dark Will Rise

We kept to the edge of the village, joining the back of a group of young nymphs watching the water. A moment later, another horn sounded, and the wispy noise echoed as a Mer rose from the water with a conch shell pressed to his lips—the sound was the same on land as it had been in the water. No doubt using some kind of glamour, which was the Mer’s specialty.

I stepped behind Tor, peeking out from his shoulder as more Mer pulled themselves from the water—each male wore the royal sigil on the straps across their chest and a golden trident on their back.

My heart skipped a beat.

The first line of guards stood on two legs, and their tails melted away as the lake water washed the sand from their skin.

Finally, the Mer-King revealed himself in the middle of the crowd. His golden hair was pulled back in a braid that reached his waist, with a circlet perched on top of his head sporting a single tear drop ruby that hung between his eyes.

The last time Cormac Illfinn had seen me, his face was twisted with rage. Staring at his exotic almond-shaped eyes as they swept over the crowd, it was easy to forget how ugly he was inside.

Cormac Illfinn sported a scar over his heart, blackened and unable to heal. A wound had been given to him by my uncle, the only time they had met on the killing field.

I reached out, gripping the back of Tor’s shirt, my fingers trembling—though I wasn’t sure if it was from rage or fear.

Tor and Rainn did not move as they watched Cormac stride onto the banks of the river, holding his royal trident in one hand as he stared out amongst the adoring nymphs cooing over his presence.

Cormac seemed determined to ignore everyone until Shay Mac Eoin stepped from his tent near the bonfire, dressed in the finest leathers I had ever seen him wear. Tight trousers, with laces up the side of each leg, and a tunic inlaid with golden stitching. Shay Mac Eoin had tied back his braids with a leather strap, though that didn’t hinder their movement as they shifted and writhed like a thousand curious snakes.

Shay held out his arms, ignoring the guards on the shore as he strode into the shallows to greet the Mer-King. Cormac gave him an arrogant smile, but we were too far away to hear what was said.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” Rainn murmured out of the corner of his mouth. “Tarsainn is in mourning after Lady Bloodtide turned to foam. They do not attend celebrations for a hundred days after the passing of a royal.”

“It's been more than a hundred days,” Tor muttered.

“It doesn’t feel like more than a hundred days.” I risked a quick look onto the banks, watching as Shay slapped Cormac on the back and gestured to the bonfire. It had been a week since Cormac had stabbed me, but it felt like longer, somehow. Long enough to let the wound fester as a phantom ache spread from my back.

Cormac flashed a row of white teeth, following Shay’s gesture to the gaggle of young nymphs, no doubt ready to drop to their knees for him, and my vision seemed to double. My nose burned with held-in tears, and my blood turned hot and cold at the same time. Rage turned my skin to goose flesh; all I could think of was darkness. The nothingness of Death. The bonds that had kept me tethered to this world. A life that Cormac had almost ended.

“He killed me.” The words sounded strange and flat in my mouth.

Tor glanced over his shoulder before turning back to the water.

The lake began churning like a storm rolling in despite the clear sky. I tasted blood on my tongue, feeling a surge of perverse pleasure as the nymphs on the shore squealed and stepped back as a wave crashed down hard enough to knock one of the females to her ass.

Cormac and Shay frowned, staring at the cloudless sky as they moved out of the water, but I was too angry, and the lake reached out to do my bidding like an eager seal pup.

My fist clenched as I dragged it down, and the water pulled at Cormac’s legs and slammed him face-first into the spray. The water was too shallow to provide much of a cushion, though he saved himself before he fell, rising up on one knee.

Shay searched the crowd before his eyes met mine. The nymphs surrounding us moved away, hurrying away from the tumultuous water.

Shay murmured something to Cormac, who turned pale when he finally spotted me.

I stepped around Tor and approached the Mer-King in the water. I said nothing.

“You were dead. I thought you were dead.” Cormac put his hand on his chest and stared at me as if he had seen a ghost.

My nostrils flared, but I kept my eyes fixed on his. “You killed me.” My voice was so quiet that I wasn’t sure I spoke at all.

“Maeve…” Cormac reached out.

My fingers twitched, and I stepped close enough that my toes touched the water as it lapped the shore. “You killed me.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean…” Cormac stammered. Gone was the arrogant, cocky male that had declared us to be wed without even asking. He began to shake, unable to look away from me.

The phantom wound where he had stabbed me ached. Festering.

I lifted a hand, and the lake reared up behind him, forming a wall of water, waiting eagerly. “You killed me,” I repeated, growing louder. My teeth gritted.

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