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“I suppose.”
I pressed my lips together, still feeling uneasy. I believed Mother had been truthful about her life in Nightshade, and even about my birth. As unreliable as it sounded, I also believed the story about Aisling. After all, where else would my magic have come from?
“I’m confused about the heir,” I said finally. “And what Aisling wanted my mother to do once she found them. Doesn’t it seem strange that there would be no further instructions? No message Aisling wanted to give her child? No specific mission?”
Bael frowned, looking troubled. “Maybe your mother simply forgot to explain that part. You could go ask her.”
My frown deepened and I huffed out a long breath. Of course I could go back down to the dungeon, but at what cost?
Allowing myself to be berated again was not high on my list of priorities. Furthermore, I had absolutely no idea what we were going to do with her. We couldn’t leave my mother in the dungeon forever, but neither did it seem smart to let her roam free.
“You don’t have to get all the answers tonight,” Bael said, seeming to understand the direction my thoughts had taken. “There’s always tomorrow. Or next week, even. Your mother withstood two months in the dungeon with barely any food or water just to avoid talking to you. She can wait another week for us to decide what to do next.”
“Isn’t that cruel?”
He smiled grimly. “I don’t care much if it is or not. She hurt you, and if Rhiannon were not your mother, I would havekilled her for it. I’d have torn out her heart before we ever left Underneath.”
I said nothing. His violent fantasies probably should have disturbed me, but I’d long ago accepted that they probably never would. I’d seen Bael literally eat the body of a man who attacked me, and then bathe in his blood. If I still loved him after that, there was likely nothing that could scare me away.
I scooted closer and laid my cheek back on his shoulder, soaking in the near-feverish warmth of his skin and closed my eyes.
“You know what I’d like to understand?” Bael asked, after several long moments. “What does she mean by ‘heir?’”
I opened one eye. “What do you mean?”
“Technically we’re all heirs of Aisling. My entire family are descendants of the first royals, albeit distant ones. And then there’s you. Through your magic, you’re probably more connected to her than anyone has ever been.”
“It sounded to me like she meant her child, not a distant descendant.”
“But that’s just it,” Bael argued, sitting up straight to look at me. “Aisling lived thousands of years ago, and…” He broke off, leaving his sentence hanging in mid-air. “Oh, fuck.”
“What is it?” I asked, sitting up.
In a split second, Bael had jumped to his feet. He moved so quickly I barely saw the blur as he collected his clothing from the floor, and tossed a shirt at me. “Get dressed.”
“Why? You just said we could wait a week before speaking to my mother again.”
He tugged his trousers on, and ran his fingers through his tangled curls, looking at me with incredulous wonder. “It’s not her I want to talk to. If Aisling had a child, they would be nearly seven thousand years old, and as it happens we have a guest downstairs claiming to be exactly that.”
My mouth fell open. “You don’t think…”
“I don’t know, little monster.” Bael grinned. “Let’s go find out.”
Baeland I dashed down the hallway.
Or rather, I dashed, and he walked briskly beside me, clearly torn between a desire to stay together and frustration that I couldn’t go any faster.
“We should prepare for the possibility that Idris has no idea what we’re talking about.” I panted as we ran. “Or, maybe he is the heir, but he’s plotting to overthrow us at this very moment.”
“Both are possible,” Bael agreed grimly. “But I’m willing to risk it. If Idris really is an heir to Aisling then he could know how to break our curse. That’s worth a gamble, no matter the cost.”
I nodded in silent agreement as we turned a corner at the end of the long hall. Suddenly, the sound of arguing filled the hall, the angry raised voices echoing off the stone.
Bael stopped walking, and glanced over his shoulder. “By the fucking Source. Now what?”
I didn’t bother to stifle my groan.
The voices were clearly recognizable as Scion and Ambrose, and while I couldn’t hear what they were saying, the tone and volume was enough to give me an idea.
