“Who or what?”
“Where’s my mother?” I demanded. “If this is the Tuatha Dé Danann, she should be here.”
“The Mer were cursed for less than that, Maeve Cruinn.” Manannán mac Lir held up a hand. “Do not speak back to me again.”
I growled in frustration.
“Do you know how gods are born?” He grinned.
My anger grew like the burning embers of a fire, hungry and desperate. I squinted and clenched my fists. “I don’t know,” I admitted through gritted teeth.
“There is a term, used by the Sídhe.” Manannán mac Lir tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Magical Majority. The awakening. Gods have something similar.”
My heart leaped to my throat. “Oh?”
“You’ve barely scraped the surface of your magic, Maeve Cruinn.” Manannán mac Lir slanted a look at me, loaded with emotions I couldn’t decipher. “Your mother asked me to give you this message.”
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. “What did she say?”
Manannán mac Lir regarded me, looking down his regal nose. “Perhaps I’ll wait until after your trials to deliver the message. Motivation and all that.”
“Motivation?” My jaw clenched. “Do I have a choice in these trials then?”
“The Tuatha Dé Danann does not give anything for free.” His eyes sparkled.
The water of the lake grew more tumultuous by the second, a whirlpool forming below my feet while Manannán mac Lir spoke.
Manannán mac Lir cocked his head to the side. “You have the blood of the Tuatha Dé Danann. You awaken, or you die.”
The last thing I heard was Cormac Illfinn as he screamed my name from the shore.
The world bled into my vision. From sparkling darkness, the kind that came from a blow to the head, to a dank, stone room. Seamless, without a window or door in sight.
An inch of water coated the bottom of the room. More of a puddle than a pool.
My feet were bare. Muddy and coated in wet sand. Sea salt had dried on my skin, marking the passage of time since I’d stood on the lake with Manannán mac Lir.
I staggered to the side, feeling the pressure around my chest loosen. As if the giant fist that had grabbed and transported me had finally let go.
I sucked the air into my lungs. The room held a stale stink under the dank. The slow ooze of rot.
The four walls remained still, but every time I turned my head, I felt them closing in. My mind was playing tricks on me.
Frozen in fear.
Trapped.
It had to mean something.
I took one step, and then another, until my nose was almost touching the wall. With shaking hands, I reached out and touched the stone. Cold and unyielding. As real as I was.
I slapped the stone. Nothing happened.
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on the wall.
I’m so tired.
I just want to go home.
