Page 14 of What Sleeps Within the Cove

I furrowed my brow, hating that I was to blame for the actions Caldris had taken that day at the Veil. “I’ve done nothing.”

“And yet your very existence has changedeverything,” Nemain said, continuing on the path forward.

The ground beneath my feet seemed to glow with an increasingred pulse, and it wasn’t until the scent of burning leather reached my nose that I really looked at the boots on my feet. At the soles that protected me from the hot dirt that couldn’t even be called soil. The silt and sand hissed lightly where my boots touched it as I walked, tiny coils of smoke rising up from the contact.

I glanced toward Fenrir as he led the way, watching his paws touch the ground without consequence. He was unbothered by the scalding heat of the earth, his paws sinking into the dry grains with each and every step.

“The Cwn Annwn are part of this place. They are born with helfyre in their veins,” Nemain answered, making it known just how closely they monitored my every move.

Fenrir’s red-tipped ears matched the color of Tartarus, and I’d always connected it with the bright red of freshly drawn blood, but watching him stand amidst the flames, I realized I’d been wrong all along.

It was the color of pure, uncontrolled fire.

“There isn’t a cruel bone in his body. How can he come from this place?” I asked, glancing toward the sharp peak to our right. It jutted out of the ground like sharpened stone, a pool of bright red fire churning at the base.

We avoided it, circling around it on our journey to the River Styx.

“His victims would likely tell a different story,” Badb said with a disbelieving chuckle.

She wasn’t wrong, and yet…

“Those people deserved it. I’ve only ever seen the Cwn Annwn kill to protect,” I said, thinking only of the fact that self-defense was hardly a crime.

The defense of a loved one should be treated in the same manner.

“As do those sent here for punishment,” Badb argued, a knowing gleam in her eye. She’d walked me right into the sharp edge of my own expectations and hypocrisy.

I couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped as I leveled her with a glare.

Her lip tipped up at the corner, amusement on her face that I couldn’t help but mirror. It was only the somber environment and circumstances that led to me being here in the first place that kept me from truly giving the moment the breadth it deserved.

My feet throbbed with twinges of pain, reminding me clearly of the days that I’d spent traveling with Caelum after the Veil first fell. It was strange to think of them now, with all that had changed andall that I knew. It had been so nice to avoid such human concepts of pain and inconvenience since coming to Alfheimr, and the exhaustion that riddled my bones seemed impossible to overcome. My joints ached, my back throbbed from sleeping on the stone cave floor.

Strange to think that my own ignorance had enabled me to not feel the bond pulling taut between us, when all I wanted was to feel it strengthen now.

I wanted what had been stolen from us.

The ground shifted as we walked, the soil becoming less burnt and more living, even as flames danced amongst the blades of grass that filled it. The Morrigan and I didn’t speak anymore, my own dread over what would wait for me at the River Styx keeping me from asking any questions for the moment.

We walked amongst the flames, letting them tickle the fabric of my leatherlike pants. They never touched my skin, never burned me through the fabric that I’d been gifted as it formed a protective barrier.

I found myself immensely grateful for the gift, thinking about the Morrigan’s words that they were always meant to be mine. But who had made them?

I thought of the snakes curving the hilt of the blades that fit perfectly into my palms. “Why would I have clothes made to withstand helfyre?” I asked, laying a hand over the flames. The warmth tickled my bare skin, forcing me to keep my distance or risk burning. Nemain met my gaze when I looked over at her, having seen her head turn from the corner of my eye. She swept a hand over a particularly large flame blocking the path, laying black feathers atop the flames. They doused beneath her magic, lowering to a height that enabled me to walk through without risking injury.

A building to our right erupted into flames as we passed, the columns burning and surrounded by fire even though the structures themselves never seemed to catch. There was no destruction in spite of the immense heat pulsing off of it in waves.

“For the same reason Fenrir was probably drawn to you from the moment he saw you,” she said, taking my hand in hers. She pulled it to her side, holding it over the flame as the heat kissed my skin. She held my gaze, something silent passing between us in warning before she used both her hands to shove mine into the fire at our sides.

“No!” I screamed, attempting to yank my hand back. She held me firm, my fight barely registering against the Goddess’s, faced with the truth of my power locked away by the gate. My skin erupted inagony, the burn sinking inside me and feeling as if the flesh would melt from my bones.

“Look,” she said, her voice quiet but stern. I pried my eyes open, realizing that all I saw was darkness because I’d blocked out everything and closed my eyes.

She turned my arm in the flames like a spit roast. I stared at the unblemished skin of my palm and forearm, whimpering through the pain that still consumed everything.

“It hurts,” I argued, yanking my hand back again. She released me finally, allowing me to cradle my uninjured arm to my chest protectively.

“Interesting,” Macha hummed at my back.

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