Page 113 of A Legacy of the Light

“Because Màiri survived! You are proof she did.”

“Could it not be a distant cousin or something?”

Finneus shakes his head. “Murdoch and Màiri were the last light wielders. And the Craobh was theirs.”

“Did Màiri have any children?”

“No. She was due to marry my brother,” he confesses with a sad sigh. “But the Dorche attacked before the wedding and I never saw either of them again. I assumed they both died in the attack. But that cannot be the case.”

“When you called me Your Majesty . . .” the question refuses to make its way past my lips.

“You are the last Darrow. Their legacy. You have the right to claim the throne. You were born to rule Elfayne, my dear,” he says softly.

“I don’t understand, Finneus.” I do, but my brain is currently wrestling with the truth before me.

He kneels and takes my hand. “May I enter these chambers? We need to look through them and see if there’s any information that might help you, or us.”

“Yes, let’s go look,” I reply. Hope sparks in my chest at the prospect of maybe answering some of my questions.

Finneus helps me stand, only letting me go when he confirms I’m steady on my feet. I take another sip of water and place the glass back on the table and follow him into the open chamber.

Lights flicker in the sconces attached to the stone wall, illuminating the path about twenty feet in front of us. Darkness looms beyond.

The chamber is about ten feet wide and double that in height. Each side of the rock has shelves carved into it. The books lining them are so old and delicate, they look like they would crumble if you didn’t handle them with care.

“How far back does this go?” I ask, looking beyond the reach of the light.

“I’m not sure. We’re in the mountain now so it could go for miles,” Finneus replies with barely contained excitement as he scans the shelves.

My blood turns cold as a thought clangs through me. He turns to look at me, concern passing over his features as I piece things together in my head.

“What is it? Do you need to sit?”

I shake my head. “Can Seelie use their magic to change their appearance? Make themselves look older?”

“They can,” he confirms.

“Finneus. We need to see if there’s a portrait of Màiri in any of the chambers.”

I look around frantically trying to find something we could use to help navigate the books.

“Would the Seòlta work in here?” My question comes out rushed, adrenaline replacing the cold in my body.

“Perhaps.” He summons one of the Seòlta, and a pen, into his waiting hands. He gives them to me and I open the black leather with trembling fingers.

Find me a portrait of Màiri Darrow, I scribble, my handwriting barely legible.

Yes, Your Majesty.

I ignore the way that response makes me feel—scared beyond belief. But in my bones, my heart, it feels right.

Thewhite magic thread shoots from the Seòlta and heads out of this chamber and takes a right out of the doors. We follow in a hurry.

The thread goes into a chamber two across from the one we were just in, and I rest my palm on the door, in the center of the symbol. My family emblem.

The magic is instant this time, and the same sensation pulls between my chest and the door. It groans as the heavy metal moves open. Finneus and I rush through, following the white light as it leads us deeper into the mountain.

It stops at a heavy book nestled on one of the higher shelves. Finneus looks around to see if there is something he can use to retrieve it. A ladder is resting a few feet away and he hurries toward it.