Page 15 of The Forever Queen

Lir hesitated, despite having toyed with this very question within the forest of his mind. The mortals had been silent since Aisling destroyed the majority of their fleets in Fjallnorr, most likely rebuilding their armies and licking their wounds until they were once more prepared to strike. So, Lir and the rest of the Sidhe hadn’t expected an attack so soon—a mentality that’d cost them greatly atImbolc.

Yet, the question remained: Why had they struck so soon after such a great defeat? And why riddle the northern seas when they could just as well attack on land?

“I don’t know,” Lir confessed, eyeing Sakaala carefully as she slithered off her rock and swam circles around him.

“Then this is cause for concern indeed,” she said.

“These mortal fleets,” Lir continued. “What colors did they bear?”

Sakaala thought for a moment, conjuring more bubbles in her wake.

“Mortal tartans, crests, and sails from each of the seven continents; the Isles of Rinn Dúin, Centar, Bethel, Lilina, Ri, Shuilan, and Rolum.”

Lir’s heart dropped. This was no longer a feud between the northern Sidhe and mortals. The whole of the Earth was now embroiled in this conflict. And he should’ve known—should’ve anticipated quick mortal retaliation after everything Aisling had taken from them. Aisling, once the princess ambassador for their kind and now the destroyer of their people.

With hindsight, it was now obvious that not only the fire hand of the North, Aisling’s father, but the whole of humankind wanted both swift vengeance and the realization of visions: Danu’s and the Lady’s claim that mankind would celebrate a final victory over the Sidhe.

Lir bared his fangs. He’d been too blissfully distracted by Aisling over the past weeks, and even now, he couldn’t bring himself to regret the attention she stole. Was this a portion of how he and Aisling’s union would inevitably destroy the world? The Sidhe king shuddered, thedraiochtof the Lady’s and Danu’s prophecies spinning through the fabric of time and space to birth a life of its own. A first cry, shrieking into the caverns of the universe. Insidiously, their words, their visions, their prophecies, were already taking root. And Lir felt powerless.

“What will you do, mo Damh Bán?”

Lir fixed his eyes on the merrow, coming up for breath from the depths of his thoughts.

“Aisling will win the gods’ favor and bring an end to this within the fortnight. Long before autumn’s storms or the mortals play their next move.”

“And then what?” Sakaala pushed. “Power and power and power and power. One wave rises as quickly as it breaks. No matter how often it swells and storms and the ocean churns, the waves will always break. Power is not the answer. It is fleeting.”

“No, but it is a tool. One I’d rather have than not.”

“At what cost?”

“Everything.”

“Because you desire such ambition?” Sakaala said. “Or…” She paused, the corners of her lips curling knowingly. “Because the not-so mortal queen desires it?”

Lir flared with annoyance, doing his best to resist Sakaala’s provocations.

“Tell me, mo Damh Bán,” Sakaala continued. “What is it the dark lord of the forest wants?” The merrow flicked her tail, playfully splashing Lir. “What is it your heart desires above all else?”

Against his own volition, exactly what Lir coveted most was summoned to the forefront of his mind. Violet eyes and raven-black hair filling him to the bone with the flames of fathomless longing. With obsession. He, spellbound by her courage, her ambition, her will. By the savage, wild magic her smile conjured. The way her body moved when she danced after too much wine. The way she glanced at him when she believed him unaware. The personification of a prayer turned poetry, sung to those whose soul bled darkly.

Before Aisling, he’d wanted power for the sake of Annwyn; the legacy of his mother and father. A child for the sake of Annwyn. He’d wanted the extinction of the human race. He’d wanted the fire hand’s blood at the edge of his axe. The wings Danu had ripped from his back, returned. And while he still yearned for—needed––all of those, there was something else—someoneelse––that’d become a priority.

A part of Lir could’ve blamed this shift on his and Aisling’s consummation. Magic twocaerasshared that bound them tightly by threads of fate. But the Sidhe king was more honest with himself than that. His utmost desires had changed long before then. Perhaps when he’d first set eyes on a mortal princess beneath a crimson veil.

“Mo Damh Bán?” Sakaala, once more, burst the enchantment. Lir whipped his attention toward the merrow.

“Keep an eye on any and all mortal fleets, especially those closest to any Sidhe kingdoms,” he said, redirecting the conversation. “If anything changes—if there is any movement at all—send a message to me.”

Lir turned, climbing back toward Flaithri and out of the grotto.

“Very well, mo Damh Bán,” Sakaala said, bowing her head.

“And Sakaala,” Lir called out before the merrow submerged again, “there’s a new village being built off the coast of Aithirn. They’re new to the land and haven’t yet become acquainted with the legends that might’ve otherwise advised them against building a coastal community. Feel free to indulge in those waters.”

Compensation for Sakaala’s efforts that undoubtedly endangered the aquatic Sidhe.

The merrow grinned, ear to ear.

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