Rainn nudged Shay. “He’s holding back, but the Nymph in him wants to know some grand and twisty tale that he can later recount over the fire.”
I swallowed my stew. “Like the dragon that kidnapped us, or saving Brígid from wolves?”
Shay choked on his food. “Brígid?Brígid?!”
“You didn’t tell me about that,” Cormac said thoughtfully, his eyes sparkling as he sipped his wine.
“It was during Manannán mac Lir’s trial.” I pointed out. “He took my sight, and we were attacked by wolves.”
Shay opened his mouth and closed it again.
“If you mentioned another god’s name, I think Shay is going to explode.” Cormac arched a brow.
Though Shay was preoccupied with our stories of the Tuatha Dé Danann, Rainn was not so easily distracted. The Nymph watched Cormac and me, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“Where’s Tormalugh?” I asked, spooning stew into my mouth.
A guilty look painted the Selkie’s features. “We sent a missive a few days ago. He’s coming here.”
“He should be here by now,” Shay added thoughtfully.
“Where are the rest of the Nymphs?” I asked, looking around the bonfire. The drumming, dancing, and general chatter were entirely absent. The village no longer felt warm, but abandoned, as if the Nymphs had gotten up and left without even finishing their morning meal. Many tents were missing panels, flapping in the wind, where some were missing entirely. “The Fomorian’s didn’t—” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“They’ve evacuated.” Shay rushed to say. “It wasn’t safe.”
I sighed in relief. “What are Arden and Liam doing here?” I asked in a low voice, tilting my head toward the Nymph. Though the fire was warm enough, I was especially thankful for Rainn’s skin returning to me. I hadn't noticed its absence until it returned, but I had been missing something vital without even realizing it.
If anything, my journey to the Tuatha Dé Danann had taught me that I could survive alone, but that I didn’t want to. That even with my memories gone, I felt the absence of my Shíorghrá not for the bonds we shared, but because I genuinely missed them. My mates were good fae; they were kind, selfless, but also arseholes.
“Balor has my mother,” Arden answered simply, looking up from his meal. “I wanted to storm Cruinn, but was advised against it.” He placed his bowl on the floor, his usually impassive face darkened. “Excuse me. I’m going to patrol.” Arden dipped his head and left the tent.
An awkward silence descended on us. My mates exchanged glances as Liam Cruinn, who had been silent until that moment, scraped his bowl with a spoon. The sound was shrill and jarring.
“Liam?” I asked gently. “Are you okay?”
I didn’t know why I asked. The Liam I knew and had grown up with was already rather pretentious. Obsessed with the royal guard and protecting Cruinn. He had always held my uncle and his mother in the highest esteem, though I’d never understood why. Perhaps I would have felt the same if I had received the same treatment as Liam.
“Tarsainn was attacked.” Rainn declared flatly.
Cormac dropped his bowl, and the clay dish bounced, scattering pieces of meat all over the floor. Cormac cursed and flicked stew from his hands.
“You could have been gentler.” Shay clicked his tongue.
“There was nothing gentle about what happened to Tarsainn.” Rainn snapped, unusually perturbed.
“Tell me.” Cormac’s voice was hoarse.
Liam took a breath. “She boiled the city. Balor. Elaine. Whatever you want to call her.”
“Did she breach the inner wards?” Cormac leaned forward; the muscles in his jaw ticked.
Liam shook his head. “I don’t know. I left before...”
“She’s using the bodies,” I whispered. “She’s using the dead as vessels for the Fomorians. The Whispering Pass. All those bodies.” I shook my head to clear it. “She knows I’m here. She sensed me in the lake. It’s only a matter of time before Balor makes another move.”
“As long as there are bodies, the Fomorians won’t stop.” Cormac tangled his hand in his golden hair. “Lugh would not give us a weapon. We have some iron, a staff that Dagda told us would not work on Balor.”
“We don’t have much.” I agreed. “In the stories, Balor was held down by Lugh’s closest friends and stabbed in the eye with a weapon forged from his own blood and iron. Balor was also a giant.”
