Page 40 of Void of Endings
Maeve opened the book, the pages of parchment velvety beneath her touch. A delicate scent floated in the air around her—apple blossoms and citrus spice. The scent of her mother.
Written at the bottom of the first page, in flowing, elegant script, was a dedication.
To the fireof my soul,
I will carry you in my heart, for now and forever, you are mine.
May you always shine brighter than the dawn.
Tearsslid down Maeve’s cheek, as the words blurred before her eyes.
“You are the keeper of fate,alanhuv. The weaver of destiny.” Her father slid one finger under her chin, tilting her face up to him. “Your story is one for the ages, older than the recording of time. The aurora never loses to the darkness, it only ever rises.”
He kissed the top of her head. “If you need me, you’ll know where to find me.”
Dorian left her then, and Maeve lost herself in the story of her mother’s life.
She devoured Fianna’s handwritten words, learning all she could about the mother she never knew. Maeve read about Fianna’s childhood, the moment she met Dorian, and when each High Prince of Autumn was born. Flipping through the pages, she fell into a world of dazzling Four Courts and flourishing magic, a place not yet touched by the greedy hands of darkness. Maeve’s heart nearly skittered out of her chest when she realized her mother’s best friend was Helena, the late High Queen of Summer—Tiernan’s mother.
One day they’d hoped to unite their Courts.
The storm of Summer and the jewel of Autumn.
More tears fell, harder this time, and Maeve blinked them away as she read the inscription on the final page.
I knowmy womb will swell with you soon, just as I know I will not be there to watch you fully come into your power. I will miss your first laugh, your first smile, your first steps. But know that I am always watching you, my cherished daughter.Be courageous. Be wondrous. You are magic and life, the one true faerie queen.
Maeve closed the book,clutching it to her chest, and went in search of her father. She followed the gentle tug on the Strand, winding her way through the glowing corridors of Kyol’s palace, and discovered Dorian standing on one of the numerous balconies. Waterfalls rushed down from either side, their spray sparkling like tiny diamonds in the fading light of the moon. She stood beside him, silent, breathing in the life of the Autumn Court.
“When this is all over,” he said, taking her hand, “I want you to rule Autumn.”
“What?” Maeve startled, turning to stare up at him. “But Aran is the heir. He?—”
“He doesn’t want it,” Dorian finished for her. “I’ve already spoken to him on the matter. The sea has changed him. He intends to sail after the war, though if you ask me, I think it’s because he finds himself in love with someone not of our realm.”
Maeve’s heart sank. Aran planned to leave again. For good, this time. “What about you? Don’t you like being king?”
His eyes, emerald like Aran and Garvan’s, shone with a swell of sorrow. “What good am I as a king, without my queen?”
He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I think it was time Autumn was ruled by the one destined for it.”
Dorian released her, then turned to go.
“Papa?” Maeve called and he turned back, offering her the faintest of smiles. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” He bowed. “More than you will ever know.”
He walked away, leaving her alone, and Maevefadedback to Niahvess.
She appeared in Tiernan’s room, thinking she would find himself asleep, but instead, he was standing by the glass doors leading their shared balcony. His back was to her and though she knew he sensed her arrival, he didn’t turn to greet her.
“Hi.”
He raked a hand through his midnight hair, but still he said nothing.
“Garvan is dead.” She tried again to get some kind of response out of him. Yet his emotions remained sealed off from her, locked behind a stone-cold wall. The muscles in his shoulders were tense, the energy around him crackled like a bolt of lightning ready to strike.
“Tiernan?”
