Page 108 of The Forever Queen

“You may not be capable of trusting my motives considering my sins,” Niamh explained, “but you can trust I’ll do whatever is within my power to do what Ina could not: spare the Sidhe from extinction.

“And should that mean Aisling reigns over the Other in my stead, then so be it. But let it be because she is the hope—the change––Ina believed her to be. Let her claim her victory herself and not be given it,” Niamh said.

Galad dropped his head. Niamh hoped that although he didn’t trust the Seelie queen, he might still empathize with her motivations. Perhaps he, too, thirsted to make amends for his mistakes and he’d give everything for the chance.

“Very well,” Galad surrendered, at last. “We stand a better chance together.”

CHAPTER XLIV

AISLING

Aisling tiptoed down the slippery stones, spiraling toward the base of Simril Tower. Not another soul passed her on her journey nor inquired of her whereabouts. Only the delicate chirping of pond toads, the “hush” of the waterfall, and the babbling of bugs accompanied her descent.

At last, she arrived at a steepled door. Framed by a garland of glowing flower bulbs, Aisling heard several voices whispering enthusiastically on the other side. She pressed her ear to the wood, listening to what was being said.

“We’ve been commanded not to!” a small voice insisted.

“But surely if they’ve sent this much correspondence…we cannot continue to ignore them,” another voice said.

“They’re merely concerned where they’ve disappeared to. Once they return, all will be well,” a third voice said.

“For our sake, I hope that’s true,” the first voice said.

“I trustmo Damh Bán,” the second agreed.

“As do I,” the third piped.

Time in Simril’s Glade passed differently than anywhere else and so Aisling wondered how long they’d been gone.

A moment of silence passed before Aisling, at last, chose to open the door.

Moonlight unspooled in a pillar of light, cloaking Aisling like a specter. On the other side of the threshold, three martens—changelings––stood quivering, gaping up at Aisling.

“MoLúra.” The center changeling greeted her between the chattering of his teeth. All three bowed, wet noses pressed against the opal floors.

Mo Lúra. That title again. Aisling frowned.

“Rise,” she said, offering each a simple smile.

“Is there something we can assist you with?” the center changeling asked.

“I’m searching for the Sidhe king,” Aisling explained. “Do you know where he went?”

The changelings exhaled, their shoulders slackening. Seemingly relieved, they spoke to one another through silent glances.

“Of course,mo Lúra,” the third changeling said. “Mo Damh Bánwould enjoy nothing more than to see you.”

Aisling quirked a brow, taken off guard. “He would?” she asked, her heart beating several paces quicker.

The changelings exchanged puzzled glances.

“Of course,” they said in unison, gesturing for Aisling to follow them.

Aisling fell into step behind their small paws. They climbed down the opal stairwell that descended into the surrounding pool stopping short of its waters. From here, the waterfall was hidden on the other side of the tower. The surrounding forest, on the other hand, circled the Simril Glade and yet, it was unreachable lest Aisling chose to swim. There was no bridge, no stepping stones, nor a pathway on dry ground.

The first changeling reached into his small, quilted coat and pulled out a water lily. Gently, the changeling set the flower into the waters. It floated away, tipping from side to side on the gentle rock of the current, traveling around the tower and toward the waterfall.

Aisling watched curiously, wondering how they’d reach Lir with no aid.

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