Page 3 of The Forever Queen

A king to knight is hewn,

And a memory returned beneath a storm moon.

Let this prayer cleave like a sword.

Let mankind spare the world.”

Her words bounced off the walls of forever, sinking into the mind of the Forge and all its creation. Magic crackled like a flame, stinging the inside of Nemed’s and Starn’s nostrils.

Scull draiocht. The heat of its enchantment scalded his tongue, his throat, and his stomach where it sat to burn, hollowing the high king and his crown prince.

CHAPTER I

AISLING

Where Aisling once believed Lir to be a nightmare, tonight he donned the trappings of a dream. He rode Flaithri, the largest white stag in all Annwyn, both of them dripping with Connemara beads, braided blackthorns, and emerald clovers. His antlered crown mirrored Flaithri’s own; a tangled diadem of polished ivory, glistering in the firelight ofImbolc. But just as a dream unspooled at the edge of potential midnight horrors, so, too, did the Sidhe king of the greenwood.

Lir raised a goblet of mortal blood to the sea of trooping fae and feral beasts. The crowd roared, their jeers vibrating through the wildflowers beneath Aisling’s bare feet. Bears soaked the earth with their frothing pints of mead, goblins shoved one another in jest, and toads croaked through the clouds of smoke, puffing from their pipes like old chimneys.

Lir drank, his throat bobbing as a scarlet stream escaped his lips and slid down the muscled curve of his neck. And when he smiled, it was a grin stained with warm death. The death of those whose blood still, in some way, ran through Aisling’s veins.

“Drink!” Lir shouted in Rún. “Drink and indulge for this season’s Imbolc will not only presage the dawning of springtide but the dawning of a new age.” Lir’s eyes flicked to Aisling.

Aisling stood beneath Huriel, a colossal ash tree whose branches cradled the clearing where they reveled, bejeweled with troll-mined gems, cedar cup mushrooms, snowy owl feathers, and lush garlands of sugarberries. Galad hovered protectively at Aisling’s side and would likely have kept his hands gripped to his blade if it weren’t for Gilrel’s reassuring presence—the pine marten as quick with her sword as she was with her tongue.

Galad translated for Aisling. Some words and expressions Aisling already understood, but Galad’s guidance connected those phrases she wasn’t yet familiar with. Aisling was committed to becoming fluent, and with every flame conjured by thedraiocht, she found the divine language effortlessly slipped into her mind. It was as if she’d always known it. Like an old road home, Aisling simply needed to remember the way back.

“Alone, both Seelie and Unseelie have fallen at the knee to the mischief of mortal man. But should we forge-born unite, mortal men will find their blood pooling atop the earth, lapped by the fanged mouths of our forests. Together, Seelie and Unseelie will bind this plane and the Other—the Forge, our own. All thanks to my—” Lir hesitated before grinning like a wolf. “Ournew queen.”

Annwyn erupted into cheers. Triumphantly, the fireflies danced in great spells of light; the drums mirrored every racing heartbeat; Huriel swayed in rapture, and every honeysuckle trumpeted in honor of both Lir and Aisling’s glory. Together. Together, they were invincible. Stronger than iron and more potent than magic.

Peitho lifted a goblet of her own and her sleeves of embroidered cornelian glittered. She the sun and Filverel the moon in all white robes, smiling to himself as he leaned against one of Huriel’s great roots.

“To Aisling!” Peitho said, and the creatures of Annwyn repeated the words, raising their chalices, their pipes, their glasses, and their petrified pixie bubbles.

Aisling bowed her head, a lump growing in her throat. She wasn’t certain where to look, so she found Lir’s gaze across the glen.

The sage of Lir’s eyes flashed with want, exploring Aisling lazily as though they’d just shared thoughts. As though they were alone beneath Huriel, the world fizzling into silence. His regard alone, an enchantment few bore the strength to resist: to not fall in the worship of his blazing, bright darkness.

And as Aisling fantasized Lir’s hands would slide up her pearl-white gown, flowers bloomed there instead. Vines ofellwynbubbled at the hem of her dress. An almost translucent slip, sparkling with morning dew on a northern field. Her shoulders were cloaked by a cape of giant luna moth wings that powdered the air when Aisling swayed to the music and dusted theellwynthat climbed her skirts.

Torturously slow and at Lir’s will, the flowers grazed her bodice, caressed her neck, before cupping her jaw, and, at last, tangled themselves in both her hair and her antlered crown: a counterpart to Lir’s own. She, dressed in spring itself and the rebirth of not only Lir’s rule over Annwyn, but Lir and Aisling’s sovereignty over everything.

“And to Lir,” Filverel added. “May their reign be eternal.”

At the advisor’s words, the crowd parted, forging a path for Lir to approach Aisling. The winds grew restless the nearer he and Flaithri moved, every tree dancing in the howling winds ofImbolc.

“Approach,mo Lúra,” Galad whispered from behind. Aisling and Gilrel exchanged glances before she took a step forward. Magic hung thickly in the air, rising as the distance between Aisling and Lir closed.

Before a great felled oak, Lir leaped off Flaithri and reached Aisling. Aisling inhaled sharply, holding her breath as he pulled her close and held her waist. Every press of his fingertips scalding her flesh and shuddering throughImbolc, Annwyn, and all the North. And by the darkening of Lir’s gaze, Aisling knew he felt thedraiochtroaring, howling, screaming on the inside too.

Without a word, Lir lifted Aisling onto Flaithri side-saddle.

All Annwyn watched her, their chatter hushing into silence.

“Burn,ellwyn,” Lir said, his hand lingering on her thigh before sliding away. Aisling, despite herself, shivered, left watching as Lir reached for one of his twin axes and raised it before him.

“Seliac niv lenelle santi lelluna, te mes crai sen shetek duachte my frei lewen,” Lir shouted.

---