Page 34 of The Forever Queen

The old fox huffed, cursing something intelligible as it stabbed its staff into the mud. Its cloak was well soaked and the longer the creature stood in the storm, the more its lame knee wobbled. So, Lir knew it was only a matter of time before the fox, at last, surrendered and offered him aid.

“Very well,” the fox conceded, “but I ask for a favor in exchange.”

“I don’t bargain with beasts,” Lir said, turning on his heel to find Niamh’s castle on his own, his impatience gnawing the longer he entertained the fox. He was the most powerful fae king and didn’t take kindly to being denied or haggled with. Lir had never traversed these woods, but the trees here spoke loudly, their tongues loose and drunk on the Other’s magic. However, the Sidhe king knew venturing alone, without guidance, would risk the journey taking substantially longer than if he were given directions.

“You’ll never find Niamh’s castle on your own, nightmare!” the fox called after Lir. “This is not your mortal plane.”

Lir’s ears perked up.

The fox wrinkled its muzzle and raised its nose as though sniffing them from a distance.

“I can smell it on you. You aren’t from here. If you aren’t lying and what you say is true, then Niamh has intentionally separated you from your friends despite giving you an invitation. And so, she won’t be found so easily.”

Lir blinked slowly, cracking his neck from side to side.

“Very well, what is it you covet?” Lir asked.

The fox grinned ear to ear.

“Seeing as you slayed my questing beast, I’ll need another fiend to guard my cottage from your kind. Surely a nightmare of your hulking size can fetch me another,” the fox said.

Lir sighed, reluctant to waste any more time than necessary.

“You do, however, look quite cold and in need of some cider. You may join me in my cottage after you fetch me my end of the bargain, nightmare. And perhaps then I’ll have remembered the way to Castle Yillen.”

Lir ground his fangs into his bottom teeth.

“Very well.” Lir surrendered, perhaps because the guilt of killing the questing beast still weighed heavily on his shoulders or because he found he quite liked the old fox. Either way, he’d satisfy this bargain quickly. “I’ll bring you another monster.”

And then he’d find Aisling.

CHAPTER XII

AISLING

Once the blue rabbits, at long last, left their quarters in search of supper, Aisling undressed. She stripped off her gown, loosened her braids, unbuckled Sarwen from her back, and slinked off her jewels. All save for Anduril, glittering across her naked hips. For a moment, she considered unclasping the belt. It was both heavy and large, bruising her where it tightened and loosened from time to time.

You need me, the belt whispered into her mind. Aisling swatted at the words, but they sank into her consciousness like teeth. So, Aisling forwent removing the belt.

The sorceress sank into a steaming bath prepared for her by three silent sylphs. The bath however, was more of a pool than a tub, located in a separate room attached to her chambers by an opaque, crystal entryway.

Shamrocks grew from the bottom, rising so their beryl-green leaves bubbled at the surface. A fountain carved in the image of a Sidhe poured steaming water into the pool eternally. Water laced with what Aisling believed was star root, silk petals, and mint.

Finally, Aisling was alone. Her thoughts grew loud. Too loud, scratching at her fears, her anxieties, wondering where the fae king was. He occupied her mind like a haunting, driving Aisling mad the harder Anduril burned the image of him, the name of him, the sound of him from her mind.

Aisling sank further into the pool until only her eyes peered above the surface. She could breathe not with her lungs but with thedraiocht––a spell someone had taught her when they’d first wandered through Annwyn’s greenwood. Anduril bloomed awake and scalded her flesh. Aisling whimpered out in pain, grabbing the edge of the bath. But once the pain had subsided, she couldn’t remember what she’d been thinking of.

Aisling closed her eyes, her mind wiped clean as she breathed in and out slowly, hushing Racat back into acquiescence after thoughts of the Sidhe king. But while her mind cleared, her heart remained heavy, filling her dreams with images and voices. Dreams Anduril couldn’t seem to prevent from unspooling.

You and the Sidhe king can never be, an ancient creature boomed before a spindle. Yet still, Aisling felt the fae king’s fingers on her bare flesh. Felt the bliss of him inside her, making her whole once more, wrapped in the dark lord’s embrace, hot, heaving, and intertwined.

* * *

“Where are you, Aisling?” a familiar voice cooed from the corridors of a starry forest.

Aisling immediately recoiled, staggering back but tripping on the hem of her gown. She hit the ground hard, struggling to her feet beforeshemade herself seen. Yet, Aisling’s body felt both heavier and slower here in this realm of dreams. As though Aisling were once more nothing but a mortal princess, slave to the whim of all those more powerful. Anduril gone from her hips.

“Aisling,” the voice called again in a sing-song tone that sent chills up Aisling’s spine. “Where are you?”

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