“That’s great.”
Bran rubbed at her upper arm. “What now?”
Cillian took in the ice and snow that covered the land all around and the Shoppe with its boarded-up windows. The light from magic still spilling out of it was a warm and welcoming glow. “Let’s get inside. I think we all need to talk.”
He looked over at his mother when he spoke, and she didn’t seem surprised or unhappy about his request. She merely nodded, a faint, sad smile curving across her mouth. “Yes, I think it’s about time we did that.”
She strode toward the Shoppe, the other Fae following her. A knot of complicated emotion settled in Cillian’s chest as he watched her go,but the one thread cutting through it all that made sense and always would was his love for Bran. “You’re staying?”
A soft look came to Bran’s eyes, the gold flecks from his magic gone. “It’s my Shoppe. Of course I’m staying. I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”
After everything they’d gone through over the last week or so in the Otherworld and the two whole months that had seemingly passed here at home, that was all the promise Cillian needed.
That Bran would stay.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cillian’s hands shook slightly from leftover adrenaline as they stepped into the Shoppe. The thrum running through his body would take a bit to dissipate. Everyone’s attention was on his mother, who studied the wreckage with an unreadable look on her face.
“I am sorry about Juliana,” his mother finally said.
“Did you lead Cernunnos to her?” Bran asked.
“No. He found his own way here to a border most Fae had forgotten about.”
“You didn’t forget it existed,” Cillian said slowly.
“I have guarded the Four Lands against the wyrding since it was raised.” His mother turned to face him, a weariness in her gray eyes that he hadn’t ever seen before, even when she’d pulled double shifts at the emergency room when he was a kid. “You have questions.”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “You could say that.”
“Let’s go upstairs. We can talk in the apartment,” Bran said, already prodding Aisling in that direction. She looked like she was about to pass out from exhaustion, and so Cillian didn’t argue the suggestion.
They all trudged upstairs on creaking steps. The magic followed them in a golden glow, brightening the apartment. Bran saw Aisling toher room despite her protests of wanting to stay up. Niamh and Seamus peered around curiously, while Seamus went into the kitchen to poke at the stove and refrigerator. Cillian sat on the couch with his mother while Scáthach stood guard by the door.
Bran returned about ten minutes later, just when the silence was starting to get suffocating. He came to the couch and perched on the armrest rather than take the spot between Cillian and his mother. “Aisling is sleeping. Jupiter is with her. Will any more lights come for us?”
“No. The bean sí killed them all,” Cillian’s mother said.
“And Cernunnos?” Cillian asked.
“He knows you are here. That I am here. I do not know what he will do with that information, but there is the risk he will inform the Dagda.”
“He called you the Mórrígan.”
His mother nodded, her gray eyes never leaving his face. She was beautiful, even in her scrubs, holding herself straight-backed and regally. Her pointed ears were impossible to miss, as was the power that seemed to emanate from her, a wealth of magic that had been strong enough to force Cernunnos to retreat. “I am that which the warrior dead cry to. I am the raven of war. But I am also your mother. That is a truth the Dagda could never stand.”
Cillian swallowed tightly, mouth suddenly dry. “So what Niamh said is true. You’ve been Fae all this time.”
“So have you.”
“You didn’t raise me here like that.”
“No, I didn’t, and that kept you safe.” Her gaze flicked to Bran, impossible to read. “As safe as one could be in land guarded by witches.”
“You let us be friends.” Cillian reached for Bran’s hand, gripping it tightly, like the other man was an anchor in a storm. “You always said to never trust a witch, but you still let us be friends.”
“This world of iron poisons us. Nothing could heal you but what the witch could brew, and I knew then the root of what had been done to you. I risked Juliana knowing the truth to keep you safe because I could not undo what Chaos had wrought without risking the Dagda finding you again. He’d taken you from me oncebefore. I would not allow that to happen again. Not when you were so young and powerless.”
