Page 80 of The Forever Queen

Deeper they journeyed, sinking to the pit of a cold cauldron’s belly. From here, Lir could hear running river water coursing through the mountains, but most of all, he could smell Eogi’sdraiocht: alive, bubbling, and sparkling like champagne, eager to be felt beneath the flesh.

“What happens once we obtain the Goblet?” Aisling asked, her voice nearly a whisper. “What then?”

Lir thought for a moment.

“We wait for the first storm moon—its necessary requirement—and then protect the gateway,” Lir said. “If Leshy is the doorway they’ve chosen, we prevent them from taking it. The Goblet will allow us to shield it from mortal aggression. If we make it in time.”

“And if we don’t?” Aisling asked.

Lir inhaled. “Then we destroy the gate ourselves.” It was a difficult truth to swallow. With the future of the Sidhe race and the Forge at stake, Lir was willing to do whatever it took to prevent a mortal victory.

“And if we cannot destroy it in time?” Aisling continued.

“Then we destroy the mortals altogether,” Lir said.

Aisling considered for a moment.

“Every last one?” she asked.

“Every last one,” Lir agreed. They exchanged glances, communicating without speaking another word.

At last, the pathway reached an end at the pit of Flasing’s cradle. The cave’s corridor widened into a large room where the schools of fish swam in circles, tracing the walls and ceiling. And at the center was an abyss: a chasm that tunneled further into the earth, filled to the brim with smoke as black as wild cherries.

Moisture dripped from the ceiling, echoing through the corridors of the cave with a haunting rhythm.

Gently, Lir set Aisling on her feet. She wobbled at first, quickly finding her balance and steadying herself. Immediately, he missed the feeling of her body against his own. Felt the absence of her like a piece of him removed.

She stepped forward, peering down and into the abyss below.

“Name thyself,” a voice boomed from the dark.

The hair across Aisling’s body stood on end. A scream bloomed in her throat, but she kept it locked behind her clenched teeth.

They couldn’t see the beast in detail. Still cloaked by darkness, all that was visible was its gaping mouth as it opened wide—the smoke churning in a circle inside its open maw. Only its shape and form rolled below them in the great chasm the rocks and the darkness protected.

The hinges of its jaw screeched from lack of use, and inside sat the pool of smoke stirring endlessly and black as the nothing that came before the birth of everything.

“Name thyself,” a voice asked again.

Lir’sdraiochtresponded immediately, thrashing inside like a hound leashed by a brittle chain. He sensed Aisling’sdraiochtas well, rising from her throat and into the magic-dense air.

Aisling shuddered, but she stood tall and straightened her back as she replied.

“Aisling,” she said. “And you are Eogi, keeper of beginnings.”

Eogi laughed.

“It has been some time since I’ve heard my name spoken aloud,” the keeper said. “None have ever passed my gate.” Eogi laughed again, choking on the pool swirling in his throat. A deep voice, as though the rocks themselves forced breath after breath through their age-old lungs.

“Eogi,” Aisling said again, this time softer, the silk of her voice given new life. “Request it and I’ll speak it in multiples.”

Eogi chuckled once more, the whole of Flasing’s cradle trembling with the keeper’s vibration.

“You please me,” he said.

“I am a friend,” Aisling assured him.

“You’d have me believe it,” the keeper said. “Yet, the nature of your arrival is prompted by the death of my knight and guardian. Your hands are bloodied, and you smell of something unfamiliar.” Eogi inhaled deeply, blowing and pulling Aisling’s hair in the direction of the abyss. “You are strange, Aisling.”

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