Page 9 of Void of Endings
“Maeve.”
She glanced over at Rowan, belatedly realizing he still held her hand. Easing out of his grip, she wrapped her arms around herself, then pulled in her wings until they vanished completely. An emotion clouded his eyes, one Maeve recognized. He blinked, but the hurt remained.
“Come with me,” he said, his voice soft.
“Where are we going?” she asked, unable to disguise the wariness creeping into her tone.
He angled his head toward the gates. “To visit an old friend of mine.”
She knew everyone watched her with weighted expectations. It didn’t matter if they were pretending to carry on with conversations of their own, or if they acted as though they weren’t keenly aware of the fact that Rowan wanted to take her away from them. She knew they listened, hearing every word, their unspoken discomfort pinning her beneath a boulder of guilt.
Again, Maeve looked in Tiernan’s direction. Not for permission or approval, but for something she couldn’t quite name.
He nodded once. Solemn and resolute.
“Okay,” she agreed, but hesitation tugged at her. Trepidation coated her skin like ice, chilling her. It was an unnerving sensation, like standing at a crossroads and realizing she would have to make a choice. As though she knew that going with Rowan to wherever he was taking her would somehow change things. Permanently.
He headed for the gates and she followed, unable to bring herself to look back at Tiernan for fear of what she would see reflected in his eyes.
Anger? Betrayal? Despair?
Maeve didn’t know how she would respond if faced with those sentiments, especially if they came from him. It was badenough she couldn’t remember him, and though he put up a strong front, it belied the truth of his torment. Perhaps he’d forgotten how profoundly the witch thread connected them to one another. She’d been keenly aware of his feelings, all of them, despite how well he’d attempted to disguise them under the appearance of understanding. The depth of love he felt for her. The rush of stinging jealousy when Rowan arrived. The buried fear that he would lose her again. Forever.
The last thing she wanted to do was to cause him any more pain, so she kept her head down as she walked alongside Rowan out the gates and into the city below.
Eventually, the dazzling beauty of Niahvess captured her full attention, and the pang of remorse ebbed away.
The Crown City of the Summer Court was glorious. Flowers of every color bloomed from baskets, overflowing across the foot bridges like a rainbow of blossoms. Faerie fire flickered to life in the many lanterns, illuminating the walkways so the canals gleamed as though they’d been doused with golden ink. Even though the sun was dipping far into the western sky, and nightfall was gradually approaching, the floating city came alive. Summer fae spilled out of shops and cafes, mingling in groups as the soothing notes of a flute filled the air.
Together, Maeve and Rowan crossed the bridge leading into the city, and the path before them split into three directions. She came to an abrupt halt, trepidation sinking deep into the pit of her stomach. Rowan headed off to the right, where there was no music, no echoes of laughter, and only scant slivers of light.
It wasn’t fear that kept her rooted in place, but something else entirely.
Up ahead, Rowan realized Maeve was no longer with him and paused, turning back to face her. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” Maeve shook her head and hurried to catch up with him. “Of course not.”
But that persistent sense of foreboding poked along her spine.
“What is this place?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
It was nothing at all like the vibrancy she’d just witnessed. Here, the fae kept their heads ducked low, casting hasty glances over their shoulders. Their footfalls were quickened as they moved without speaking, avoiding eye contact with anyone who passed them at all costs.
Rowan strolled down the stone path as though he hadn’t a care in the world. “This is the Shadow District.”
This time, Maeve reached for his hand.
He interlaced their fingers, continuing his easy pace. His relaxed confidence gradually loosened the knot of tension in her stomach.
“Are you back for good?” She hoped conversation would distract her from the fact he had yet to explain who they were going to see and why.
“Of course, Princess.”
“What about Laurel?”
“She remains in the Ether.”
At that, her gaze swung up to him. There was something about his tone that seemed off. But in the teeming darkness of the Shadow District, she couldn’t get a good read on him, and his expression remained shuttered.
