Page 92 of The Forever Queen

Aisling reeled, unable to mask her surprise.

“I’d rather you cut the curse breaker from my chest than aid either you, the mortals, or the Lady who lent you a pathetic morsel of her magic.” Aisling glared at the phantom sword Starn wielded. A replica of the blade he’d used against her, Lir, and Dagfin at Lofgren’s Rise. And if that wasn’t enough, they’d clearly been aided by the Lady to steal her from the Other and bring her here.

“Yet, cutting the curse breaker from you will do just that––the triumph of the mortals, at long last, over the fae. And thanks to thewystria, it’s finally possible,” Nemed said.

Wystria.

Aisling turned the word over in her mind. This was the magic the Lady had lent them. This magic that tasted not of plums or syrups but of bile and acid.

“Yet, there’s more I desire,” Nemed continued. “You, daughter, will give us more than the curse breaker. You’ll give us the entire fae world to burn. So tell me, Aisling, where is the gateway to the Other? Where is Leshy?”

Aisling hesitated, appraising her father anew. She’d assumed they’d wanted her head on a pike, the curse breaker clawed from within her, and the fulfillment of dark prophecies. Yet, once more, she’d underestimated her father’s ambition. Nemed would always want more. He not only shared her violet eyes but her thirst for power as well. More so than any other creature she’d met, fae or human.

And what’s worse, the Lady was clearly involved in the mortals’ schemes, tying her threads and knotting them again and again, working to fulfill her own visions.

“You’re mad,” Aisling said. “There is no Other. Yet, I’m surprised you’ve fallen for such hearthside tales.”

“So, your mortal blood still runs thick in your veins,” Annind said. “How effortlessly you lie.”

“Show us the gateway,” Starn ordered, readying his phantom blade once more. His eyes burned a darker shade of red. Aisling could feel the magic of thewystriaclawing into the room like a guest itself.

“Or what, brother? You’ll kill me?” Aisling smiled wolfishly, her expression glittering with promised violence. Her clann would cut her regardless and so, their leverage was vanishing before their eyes.

Starn’s brows lowered, his face contorting madly.

“There are worse outcomes than death,” he said, stepping so close Aisling could smell the iron, ash, and mortal sweat on his tartans.

“If you won’t lead us to the Other, then there are others who will,” Nemed said. Her father gestured for each of her sons to approach the doorway. Clodagh was the first to vanish past the threshold, then Iarbonel and Fergus seemingly mute with fear, anger, or confusion, Aisling wasn’t certain.

“Let’s test the fae’s loyalty to you. Let’s see who comes for you first,” Nemed said, closing the door behind him.

He was toying with her. Nemed enjoyed these cruel games—hopefully, to a fault. Someone would come for her and Nemed would regret it. And if they did not come for her, then they’d come for the Forge.

The ship shook with her screams, smoking between the cracks in the floorboards and staining the entire galleon with her cries.

CHAPTER XXXVI

AISLING

Rain tapped Aisling’s forehead. Once more clad in her ivory night slip, Aisling balanced on a spider’s web. Every string sparkled like starlight, darting from one edge of the cylindrical cave to the other. The tunnel glittered with the intricate handiwork of a beast, one Aisling preferred to never set eyes on. Something much larger than even the neccakaid.

One hasty breath and every string trembled.

“Aisling,” the Lady called from further inside the cave. “Aisling.”

Aisling would recognize her voice after a millennium. Even if time had erased all else, the Lady’s voice would dye the fabric of every age to come and thereafter.

Aisling held her breath, holding onto the web’s strings with all her strength. They cut into her flesh, drawing blood. Aisling hissed in pain. Still, she couldn’t escape. Below the web was an abyss and above, an oblivion grew dark and vast. She was trapped inside the Lady’s nest, forced to listen to her laughter.

“Aisling. I found you, Aisling,” she said. “Now let me in.”

Aisling cursed, peering into the dark above and below for the Lady.

“You cannot outrun fate, Aisling. Let me in.”

Aisling climbed through the mess of strings, doing her best not to fall through and into the endless pit below.

“The day I let you in, is the day I devour you whole, Lady.”

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