Tormalugh narrowed his eyes and watched as she scurried away.Traitor.
“Did you need something?” Swiftgait asked, bringing Tor back to himself.
Tormalugh pressed his tongue against his canine tooth. “You spoke of Balor. As if you knew the god.”
Rian nodded his head. “Most of the old ones remember the Battle of Mag Tuired.” He rubbed his chin. “The gods scoured the Aos Sí for iron and salt, anything that might defeat the Fomorians.”
“The Fomorians, of the Domhain?” Tormalugh frowned, his gaze drifting to the middle distance. He had heard Balor and the Fomorian’s often mentioned in the same sentence, though the kelpies did not care much for old stories. “That is an entirely different world away. No being can traverse the realms, not easily at least. How would Balor intend to bring an army to the Aos Sí?”
“I can’t answer that.” Rian shrugged. “You know this lake and its history more than I. I don’t think the Dark King is even aware of this place. The enchantments on the city walls, reeds so thick you cannot see through them. It’s an ancient magic, and not one that belongs to our creed. Something, or someone, has protected this lake from the prying eyes of those who would harm those within. But who, I cannot say.”
Tormalugh knew exactly who had protected the lake. The same god that had granted sanctuary to the first of their kind.
Belisama.
Each of the lake creeds was protected in its own way, from the Skala Isles to the abyss surrounding Cruinn. Even Tarsainn had wards that made the city invisible to those who did not know to look for it.
But would the protections guard against a god?
“Balor is a giant.” Rian continued, though Tor had not spoken. “At least, he was. The legends say that it took five men to hold him down so that a weapon could pierce his eye.”
“And the Fomorians?”
“I would worry more about them than Balor. Though Balor has always been determined to bring those ravenous beasts to heel.” Rian rubbed his hand down his face. “The DarkKing would hold meetings. Feasts by the lakeside, while we raced for his amusement. There were many talks of the Tuatha Dé Danann, for it is known that some reside in the Aos Sí—though they shouldn’t by all rights. The Dark King mentioned Balor only in passing. A large beast had attacked a border town between the Night Court and the Spring Court, and Balor’s name was often mentioned when such an incident occurred. Balor was known for courting behemoths. Making them from his flesh, controlling them, or stealing eggs from beasts and feeding them all manner of horrid concoctions to get them to grow.”
“Charybdis.” Tor nodded as Rian’s words confirmed what he already knew.
The air was thick, and neither man spoke a word.
Heavy footfalls drifted from the end of the hallway as someone rushed down the steps toward them. Tormalugh doubted it was Elsbeth, returning to enjoy his company. He was proved right when a male, barely out of youth, swam toward them, clutching a wriggling fish—a tiny thing with winged fins and stripes down its body. A fish, Tormalugh knew, that favored the faster-moving water of the south of the lake, near the Whispering Pass.
“A message?” Tor turned away from Rian, giving him his back.
The male pushed the fish into his hands; a piece of seaweed, enchanted with some kind of glamour, was wrapped around one of the whiskery spines on its body. The glamour rose, like golden steam.
Tarsainn under attack
Survivors gather at the village.
Chapter Seventeen
Maeve Cruinn
The attendant directed us to the dark staircase, with twists and turns I hadn’t seen before. The never-ending rooms were gone, replaced by a labyrinth of steps.
We emerged in the foyer of a stone castle, in the process of being claimed by the mountain on which it stood.
Manannán mac Lir was nowhere to be seen.
Neither Cormac nor I spoke as we were led to our room for the night. The tension was so heavy that it pressed on the back of my neck like a boot. Cormac had been alone in the Tuatha Dé Danann, though he didn’t seem worse for it. On the other hand, I was coated in dry, tacky blood and ready to drop.
The room was better than I expected, with sturdy wooden furniture and thick woolen bed covers.
I wanted more than anything to fall face-first into the bed, but my questions had manifested in a painful kind of indigestion that made it hard to breathe.
Cormac had been my only constant since arriving at the Tuatha Dé Danann, and the idea that he knew about Tor, Shay, and Rainn without speaking a word left a sour taste in my mouth.
I sat on the end of the bed, breathing deeply through my nose to try to calm myself.
