Nuada took her last breath.
When Liam stood, it was not under his own instruction. Instead, he was above his body watching it move, no longer inside his skin.
Nuada rolled her shoulders, and Liam’s eyes glowed with her magic.
He was a coward after all.
He hadn’t been sure he would have been able to kill his mother, but Nuada stilled his trembling hands as she gripped the needle and swam towards the giant as quick as an arrow leaving a quiver. The water tunneled around him, behaving strangely as he shot over the city. Nuada’s vengeance clouded his vision, making it easier to palm the weapon.
The giant did not look like his mother. The skin was red and puckered, as if her body had grown too quickly. Parts of her were made of stone, and others of coral. Balor roared, the single red glow of her eye deep in the depths of her eye socket. A tunnel, within a tunnel.
He felt the moment Nuada left his body, her magic still carrying him. The eyeball was entirely red, and it burst under the needle like a pufferfish. Liam Cruinn bent over, still lost in the cavern of his own mother’s eye socket, and vomited.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Maeve Cruinn
It started with a pinprick. A flicker of light that reflected from the water in a strange and unfamiliar way.
It took all of my strength to compress Balor with the water. Though the god of the deep no longer had a vessel, it didn’t mean she intended to go quietly.
The pinprick grew larger, piercing a hole between the worlds, expanding until a familiar view materialized on the other side. The Quorum, with its limestone platform and bright blue sky. My mother stood, smiling, next to the Dagda, who had gained a crown since I had last seen him. His lichen-stained eyes appeared more lifelike, as if Balor’s curse was slowly melting away.
The two gods stepped through the door between worlds, seemingly unbothered by the water. My mother drifted towards me, holding out her hand. “You’ve done well.” She told me. “I have never been prouder, my beautiful Maeve.”
My breath was shaky with the strain, as Belisama plucked the dark god from my grip. The weight left my shoulders, and I could have cried.
“Will I see you again?” I asked.
Her smile turned to sorrow. Her eyes crinkled at the edges as she spoke without opening her mouth.
I understood then.
“You can’t come back.” I surmised, feeling my eyes burn with unshed tears.
“The Aos Sí is a physical realm, and I cannot stay without a tie to the Tuatha Dé Danann.” Belisama gestured to the open portal. “My time as queen is done, but there are many creeds in the lake that still need protection. It is your duty, as my daughter, to embrace those who are exploited due to the weaknesses inherent in their design. The Tuatha Dé Danann always require payment.”
“What if I am not strong enough?” I whispered. “What if they don’t accept me?”
“Of course, they will accept you.” Belisama scoffed, slapping me on the shoulder. “What other choice do they have? You control the very water they breathe.”
My eyes widened in horror. “I don’t think...”
The Dagda let out a hearty laugh. “Let’s not encourage tyranny as a first port of call, darling.”
Belisama waved him away. “I’ll take Balor to the Mistéireach.” She conceded, shooting him a meaningful look. “Can you...”
“Of course, darling.” The Dagda nodded patiently.
My mother reached out, one hand holding Balor and the other wrapped around my shoulder. “I am always with you.” She whispered. “Carry my love, and magic, and know that you are loved beyond reason.”
“I love you too,” I whispered.
She nodded once, looking back at the lake with longing, before striding through the rip in worlds and disappearing into the sun.
Balor was gone.
Maybe not dead, but not in the Aos Sí. Not haunting Cruinn, and killing the water fae.
