“Agreed,” Shay said, his eyes forward.
Neither male paused as they raced for the edge of the cliff and the endless water of the Dark Sea.
Scylla roared, blinded by rage, gaining fast. A clawed hand, larger than both males put together, gouged the ground, perilously close to nabbing them both.
They took the leap. Shay’s magic formed a heavy miasma that followed him as they dived through the air.
Rainn closed his eyes and prayed.
His prayers were answered as Scylla dove headfirst from the cliff, following them into the water.
Chapter Eight
Maeve Cruinn
Night came unlike any I’d seen at the Twilight Lake.
Unable to bring himself to say much more after his grand declaration, Cormac and I started building the shelter on the treeline.
We gathered logs and rested them against trees to form walls, tying them in place with vines from the forest.
Neither of us wanted to venture too far into the darkness between the trees. Though the beach was paradise, what lay beyond the lagoon was not.
Seeing the waters beyond the cliffs had left me feeling vaguely sick, and venturing deeper into the forest had made it even worse. Every hair on my body lifted, every sense screaming.
Cormac seemed unaffected, or at the very least, he didn’t mention the uneasy feeling.
The night was balmy, the moon fat and full, bathing the lagoon in a pleasant, glittering light.
My body ached with hunger, churning my stomach, but it was easier to ignore as Cormac and I worked next to each other to finish the shelter.
“What was it like, growing up in Tarsainn?” I wondered.
Cormac chuffed a laugh, brushing his hands together to clean them of bark. “I was the insolent Prince. Feckless and mischievous.” He told me, shaking his head as if condemning himself. “I had one friend. Nohel. I’m fairly certain he was paid to keep me out of trouble.”
A smile stretched the corners of my mouth. “That bad?”
Cormac rolled his eyes, nudging my knee with his as we sat together on the sand. “King Ullurick and Lady Bloodtide had already lived an age before I was even born.” He told me. “One of my first memories was being held close by one of the maids, being rocked to sleep, as she gossiped about how my parents shouldn’t have bothered with a child until they’d lived a few more centuries.”
My eyes rounded. “The Mer live that long?”
Cormac rubbed his chin. “It seems that this war did more than kill most of the older fae in the lake. Younglings have forgotten that Sídhe are long-lived, almost immortal, until something actively kills them.”
“I knew that.” I shifted uncomfortably.
Cormac continued. “Tarsainn’s inner court was most upset that the King and Queen had decided to have a child. They believed it would divide their attention.”
My brows arched, but I said nothing.
“My grandmother spent the most time with me.” He added. “Urma.”
“Have the Illfinn’s always ruled Tarsainn?” I asked.
“It was said that Belisama once lived in the Twilight Lake.” Cormac lifted his chin, and the moon reflected in his gaze. “That Dagda’s footprint scarred the ground, and her tears filled it.”
“I know the stories.” I rubbed my arms, though it wasn’t cold. “Her cries drew all of the lonely souls from the depths of the Aos Sí. Those that needed a home.”
“The Mer, the Undine, the Kelpies, Selkies, and Nymphs.” Cormac listed. “Each creed has suffered its own persecution, at one time or another. Belisama offered us a home. Those that walked on two legs on the sand. Each step was as painful as walking on the blade of a knife.”
