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“We can only guess at her reasons.” Illya leaned heavily on his cane. “However, whatever she sought to do, make no doubt, it was a brave and selfless sacrifice. Not one person in the kingdom questioned the great love Dagda and Morrigan possessed for one another.”
“Dagda doesn’t remember all of this, though.” I motioned back to the length of tapestries that spanned the hallway. “Not from the very beginning.”
“No,” Illya said. “Both you and he fell during your time in the Otherworld, a couple hundred years ago. He only remembers your past life. However, he knows the history, knows everything you have been to each other from the beginning. Knows what you have been to him since his current life restarted.”
I swallowed, processing everything Illya told me as I stared at Morrigan’s uncompromising image. Brave, selfless. “If I don’t go to the bog witch on Samhain, Badb and Macha will consume me. I’ll cease to exist.”
“Yes.”
“And if I go to the bog and gain control of them, they will go away?”
“No. It is clear from my studies that Morrigan had to deal with her sisters throughout her life. But you will have control over them.”
Holy shit. “So you’re saying I’ll never be rid of them? Ever? What does it even mean to have control over them?”
“Child, you must remain calm—”
I yanked my arm from his grasp. “When they take over, I can see what they see and hear what they say. They are even aware of my visions. But… they can’t read my thoughts, right? I can’t read theirs.”
“It is likely that you share the power of foresight with your sisters. But as far as them actually reading your private thoughts, well, there is a lot we do not know—”
I huffed. “Great. And what if… what if when I enter the bog, I can’t gain control over them?”
“That is also something that I do not yet know—”
“Why don’t you take your best guess?”
Illya fell silent. Then he said in a thoughtful voice, “There are two options I would think would be likely. One, you and your sisters will split back into your different forms, though…” His head tilted to the side, considering. “It's been so long, they may not have appearances of their own. But should you separate, the bond will be broken. The other likely option is… well, your sisters will consume you.”
“And if we were to split? If Macha and Badb were to get loose?”
His milky eyes grew large, tottering as he fought to keep his balance. “Get loose? Badb cannot get loose. What you have witnessed her do so far is only a fraction of what she is capable of if she is freed. She will stir unrest, growing ever stronger, until she has bathed this world in blood. And Macha has allied with her—and I beg you not to underestimate her strength. Together, they are unstoppable. Only you hold their power in check, even now.”
Me. And yet, we all knew what would happen. Who would win in the end. At least Badb and Macha did. Their laughter sliced into my veins, pumping throughout my body.
I shivered. The last time Badb and Macha had taken over, I’d felt this darkness inside me calling me to an abyss. One I was afraid, if I dove into, I wouldn’t come back from.
Illya rested his hand on my arm, and it snapped me back. I peered into his wrinkled old face. He was unbelievably old—probably because Illya was once human before he became the last living oracle. “His majesty has asked me—commanded me—to discover a way to lay this endless cycle to rest for good. There may be a way. Break the bond before Samhain and it very well might end Badb and Macha permanently. I must search it out further. Unfortunately, the answer to this question may take years for me to discover, but I shall do my utmost to do as he asks.”
It didn’t matter. In three weeks, I’d set them loose, and I’d be free of them. Not that I wanted it that way. Only because I didn’t have what it took to keep them contained inside me.
I was nothing like the woman in the tapestry before me.
“Dagda became so bereft after she left that he couldn’t function,” I said. “He let Niamh take over everything, and he did nothing. He just gave up and mourned.” I didn’t know what else to comment on that. Mourning for twenty-one years, letting his kingdom stagnate, all because he couldn’t get over her.
Illya stood silent, then said quietly, “That is what he allows people to believe.”
My head whipped around to take in his troubled face. “That isn’t what happened?”
“I am afraid it is not my story to tell.” His old gnarled hand squeezed my arm. “The king, child, he loves you very much.”
I wanted to demand he tell me more, but he’d already refused and I knew there was no use pressing further. My hand dropped from the tapestry and hung limp at my side. “It’s not me he loves.”
Chapter 14
Roisinbusiedherselfbrushingout my dress while we stood in the waiting area behind the throne room awaiting my crown to be brought. Today was Saturday, the day I was supposed to be winning the state swimming championship. I longed to feel the thrill of my body moving through the water, of the rhythm of my breaths synced with every stroke. Instead, I was being dressed up like a doll to perform to strangers.
“Honestly,” I said. “I could go out like this and—”
