Page 5 of The Shadowbound and the False God

“Oh,” he said sheepishly. Softly. “That was meant to be a surprise. You said you liked the blue better.”

A lump swelled in Aisling’s throat that she swallowed back harshly. It was guilt that was stuck there. She felt like a spectator, watching someone else dismantle her life and leave her friendships to wither. There was so much raw hope around her—she’d seen it in Seb’s eyes, and now plain on Rodney’s face. Some tiny voice urged her to reach out and grasp onto the lifelines they were casting her, over and over again. Whispered that they wouldn’t keep casting forever.

But there was a much louder, much colder voice that seemed always to eclipse the other. One that told her it wouldn’t make a difference how many lifelines she seized or, sometimes, that she didn’t deserve to reach for those lifelines at all.

So instead of telling him that the orange had grown on her, Aisling just nodded and tucked the box back into the bag.

“Ididn’t realize you meanttonight,” Aisling said through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t realize he did, either.” Rodney shot Aisling an apologetic look as he set two takeaway bags on the kitchen table. Lyre stepped into the trailer just behind him, nose wrinkled at the smell of greasy burgers and fries and the empty pizza box still on the counter from lunch. Aisling remained on the couch with Briar. She hadn’t moved since Rodney left to pick up dinner, and Lyre’s arrival certainly wouldn’t make her do so now.

“I’ve looked for you in your home,” Lyre said, “twice. You are a difficult woman to find.”

“Not if you know where to look,” Rodney interjected smugly.

Lyre acknowledged Rodney’s comment with pursed lips and a cocked brow. He shed his outer cloak, damp from the rain that had been falling on and off all evening. Beneath, he still wore the Prelates’ all-black attire: plain, rough fabric that must have chafed maddeningly against his skin. Aisling recalled how softall of Kael’s clothes were, save for a similar set of ritual robes he’d worn in The Cut when she’d been his captive.And the set they’d dressed his body in to lie those three days in the cavern, before…

“What do you want, Lyre?” Aisling asked bluntly.

He feigned disappointment. “After all this time, and after all we’ve been through, this is not quite the reception I’d hoped for.”

Aisling curled her fingers into fists in Briar’s fur.How long had it been?Almost a month in the human realm—far, far longer in the Wild.How long must that month have felt to Kael in Elowas?

Begrudgingly, Rodney pulled a chair from the table into to the living room for Lyre. The Prelate sank down gracefully. Though he was perched on the very edge of the wooden seat, he somehow still appeared to be at ease—just as he always seemed to when he knew that he had the upper hand. Rodney stood by with his arms crossed.

“Why are you here?” she demanded again.

“I am here, my dear Red Woman, to discuss your prophecy.”

Aisling balked. The sudden movement roused Briar and he scrambled off the couch to bare his teeth in Lyre’s direction. She made no attempt to call him off.

“The prophecy was fulfilled,” Rodney argued, and at the same time Aisling said, “I’ve done everything it asked of me.”

“I ended the war,” she continued, then repeated, “I’ve done everything it asked of me. I’ve…I’ve destroyed the Unseelie Court. I’ve faced darkness unnamed;I’ve sacrificed for dormant magic.” She ran through the lines in her head, though it made her dizzy to do so now. It was over.It was supposed to be over.

“What more could there possibly be?” Rodney sounded almost more desperate than Aisling.

Lyre examined his nails. Picked at a loose thread on his tunic. He was enjoying this: holding court over a captive audience. Thenewest High Prelate was never one to shy away from theatrics. Rodney looked about ready to throttle him.

“Fae prophecies are funny things, you know. There are so many ways they can be interpreted—andmisinterpreted. So many ways one might go about reaching the end state without ever fully understanding their true objective,” Lyre intoned.

“The objective was to destroy the Unseelie Court and end the war,” Aisling pushed back again. She felt like a broken record, but she would repeat it as many times as she needed to until it started sounding more like the truth and less like a wish.

“That wasanobjective, certainly. Buttheobjective?” Lyre shook his head slowly. “Not so. Tell me again the line that led you to believe the fall of the Unseelie Court, and the rule of the Seelie Fae, would bring an end to your story?”

But Aisling couldn’t—couldn’t say those words out loud. So Rodney jumped in. “Amidst bloodshed and darkness and winter’s bitter sting, the Red Woman will rise to bring revenant spring.Winter, spring. Unseelie, Seelie. Plain as day.”

Lyre hummed, twisting a ring round and round his finger, a silver band mounted with a large cut of obsidian. The High Prelate’s ring—Aisling had seen it on Werryn’s hand before. “And tell me, if your prophecy had truly been fulfilled, then why hasn’t another been Told? The Fae have ten prophecies—always ten. It has been more than enough time passed since our king and queen gave their lives for another to have been revealed.”

“Please,” Aisling said urgently. “Please, Lyre. Just tell me what you know.”

“There is one very important piece that we have long misinterpreted.” Lyre was focused now, done toying with them. He leaned forward, yellow eyes dancing over Aisling. “You were always meant to kill Kael, because you were always meant to bring him back.Revenant spring—we all thought thatrepresented a return to peace with the Seelie Court in power, but we were wrong.”

Aisling finished the assumption he left unsaid at the end of his thought: “You think it’s Kael.”

Lyre nodded confidently. “Iknowit’s Kael. You are tied to him in a way none of us predicted.”

“Affined to another.”Rodney breathed the line, sinking onto the couch beside her. The pieces were coming together quicker for him than they were for Aisling.

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