Page 97 of Realm of Nightmares
Casimir pointed a finger in her direction. “That’s because you went into full-blown attack mode before we could tell you.”
“You can shut the fuck up.” She slammed both hands onto the table, rattling the glasses, and Lir’s fist coiled into the back of her blouse.
Again, Ceridwen reached across the table. This time a gentle wave of calm, of serenity washed over them. “Your aura is as bright as ever, Saoirse.”
The warrior softened, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, well…”
“You know we all love Maeve,” Ceridwen continued, patting Saoirse’s hand as tiny swells of comfort and soothing magic pacified the her temper. “She went with the god of death willingly, to spare us. She saved our lives.”
“Long story short,” Merrick said, tucking his arms behind his head. “The god of death tried to rip our magic from us.”
Saoirse glanced around the long table. “From all of you?”
Ceridwen nodded. “Yes.”
“But why?”
“Because we weren’t going to let Maeve go without a fight.” Brynn smiled, and it was lethal.
Tiernan leaned forward, meeting Saoirse’s troubled gaze. “And we’ve been trying to figure out how to get her back every day since.”
“Oh.” She sagged in her chair. “That still doesn’t explain whathe’sdoing here.”
“He,” Tiernan repeated, knowing exactly who she was talking about, “has been giving us information regarding Parisa’s movements.”
“And you actually believe him?”
“Yes,” he countered coolly, daring her to challenge him. At that, at least, she shrank back a fraction. “Now, tell Aran about the faerie who crossed you into Faeven.”
“I—I can’t.” There was something about her demeanor, something in the way she was suddenly rigid, like she’d been caught in a lie.
Alarm fired through Tiernan.
“Why not?” Merrick asked, wary. She’d done something detrimental. They all knew it.
She was a damned good soldier. Not once did she falter or crack. Instead, she rolled her shoulders back and kept her expression schooled into one of neutrality. “He made me promise.”
Brynn groaned and rolled her eyes to the open sky of the ballroom.
This time, it was Dorian who spoke, and when he did, it was with the poised command of an Archfae. “His exact words please, my lady.”
“He said ‘I’ll cross you into Faeven, but you must swear never to reveal my identity.’ And so…” Saoirse rolled up the sleeve of her blouse, revealing a dark green Strand in the shape of a vine wrapping around her left wrist, the magic of it binding her to her word. “I agreed.”
* * *
“Saoirse,”Brynn grumbled, her eyes flashing to a vivid blue. “Did you learn nothing while you were here?”
Lir inspected the Strand, his thumb tracing the crawling vines marking her ivory skin. He glanced at Tiernan and nodded, confirming what they already knew.
Saoirse could never reveal the fae’s identity or the binding laws would transport her back to Veterra. Or worse, she could end up in the middle of the Eirelan Pass, possibly even stuck on the ship with the fae who crossed her over.
There was a nudge, a light push against his mind, and he glanced over at Ceridwen.
“Can’t you go into her mind?”she asked.“Is there a way you can find out who brought her here?”
Tiernan gave the slightest, almost imperceptible shake of his head.“My magic doesn’t work that way, you know that.”
Lips pursed and eyes downcast, Ceridwen stared into her now-cold cup of tea.
