Page 92 of Realm of Nightmares
Merrick strode toward them, inclining his head. “Welcome home, my lord.” Then to Aran, “Your Highness.”
Aran smiled in acknowledgement, then glanced over at Lir, who kept Saoirse on lockdown in his hold. “So, the famed silver-haired warrior returns.”
Her blue eyes rolled to the overcast skies. “What is this, the battle of the chiseled chests? Do they not have clothing wherever you two came from?”
Aran’s cheeks colored, and Tiernan glanced down.
Sure enough, she was right. He was bare from the waist up. They’d both discarded their shirts and top pieces of armor while climbing the Golden Plains. Tiernan glamoured himself with fresh, clean clothing as Aran did the same, and Saoirse was kind enough to feign a pout, sticking out her bottom lip that was indeed bleeding.
She twisted in Lir’s arms. “Put me down.”
“Not until you promise to be a good girl.” He grunted when she kicked once more, her heeled boot striking his shin. “No more attempts on Casimir’s life. At least not until he delivers the information owed to us.”
“Fine.” She sagged against him, the fight seeping out of her. “I promise.”
Tiernan wasn’t entirely sure he believed her, but Lir let her go. The moment her feet hit the ground, she whirled around, facing Tiernan, her gaze wild. “Where is she?”
Tiernan bowed. “It’s nice to see you too, Saoirse Doran.”
“Forgive me, my lord. It’s lovely to see you.” She dropped into a clumsy curtsy, waving away all etiquette. “Where’s Maeve?”
Casimir edged out from behind Brynn, approaching them with caution. “She’s not here.”
Saoirse snatched her sword off the ground, but Lir snared her by the arm, hauling her against him. “Shut up, Casimir.” The blue of her eyes turned cold like glaciers. “Your death will be mine.”
This time, he didn’t flinch. “No, it won’t.”
There was a finality to his tone.
“Did you find Danua?” Ceridwen asked, her gaze flicking between himself and Aran. “Was she there?”
He swallowed. “She wasn’t.”
She watched him carefully. Her brows knitted together, and she tilted her head, her long blonde hair falling over one shoulder. “But someone else was.”
Tiernan opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Scrutinizing his sister, he replayed her words in his mind, until understanding slammed into him. “You knew she wouldn’t be there.”
To this, she didn’t respond.
Tiernan pressed further. “And you let us go anyway?”
“I knew someone else was waiting. I saw it.” She offered nothing else, nor did she allude to the fact that she knew who would be in Maghmell waiting for them. “What did she say?”
“Wait, wait,” Merrick interrupted, waving one hand through the air. “Danua wasn’t in Maghmell?”
A dull ache formed at the base of Tiernan’s neck, spreading up to the sides of his head, and he rubbed his temples. “It’s a long story. One I’ll gladly tell later over a stiff drink. What I want to know right now, however, is why Saoirse is here and not in Kells?”
The warrior in question fisted one hand on her hip, cocking it to the side. “And I’d like to know why no one will tell me where to find Maeve.” She glanced over at Lir, and a ferocious smile spread across her split lips. “So, I’ll ask nicely one more time. Where. Is. She?”
“She’s in the Ether with the god of death.” Casimir volunteered the information and a chorus of groans echoed through the courtyard.
Merrick spun on the drakon. “Damn it, Casimir.”
But Saoirse had gone completely still. An eerie sense of calm settled over her and she turned slowly. The hand she used to hold her sword clenched, her knuckles turning white. “Excuse me?”
“The High King of Summer made a deal with the god of death many years ago,” Casimir explained, not taking his eyes off of her. “In exchange for the power of destruction, Tiernan would give him everything in return. In a strange turn of events, Maeve is his everything.”
Saoirse angled herself toward Tiernan, moving in, but Lir maintained his hold on her arm. Just in case. “Let me get this straight. Maeve is in the realm of the in-between because of another shitty fae bargain?”
