Page 174 of The Edge of Darkness

“Are these the protective stone circles Vanir was talking about?”

“One of them,” he answered. “This one is different from the others though. That stone”—he pointed to the center of the spiral—“is said to be sacred. Some say it grants wishes if you touch it under a full moon’s light.”

“Have you ever made a wish on it?”

“Once.” He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t prod.

Nivelle stepped closer to the spiral’s opening, then hesitated. “Can I . . .”

“Of course,” Remic said softly.

Light as a feather, she followed the swirling path, taking her time and placing her feet with intention, as if it were a ritual.

Perhaps this place had been used for rituals by the Ancient Fae before. I imagined them filling the space, chanting or singing as they each wound through the stones to make a wish.

Silas took up a seat near Remic, and each of us remained quiet as Nivelle made her way to the white stone and stared down at it. She kneeled, examining the rock thoroughly before she placed her hand on it.

Somewhere in the distance, a howl broke the silence. Nivelle stilled, and Silas straightened, his wings snapping to attention.

Remic remained relaxed. “It’s all right. It’s just a cù-sìth.”

The howl echoed across the land again.

“And what is a cù-sìth?” I asked.

“A magical creature, mostly associated with death.”

Nivelle stood rather quickly. “That means we should leave, right?”

“No. They are not harbingers of death itself, but more of a bad omen. It is a fairly common tradition for fae males to embark on a hunt for one when they reach adulthood. Killing a cù-sìth signifies the conquering of death. They wear the pelts as a show of strength.”

Silas scanned the surrounding land for any sign of said omen. “What do they look like?”

“Like giant wolves, but with unruly black fur, and eyes the color of this very grass.”

My mind immediately went to the strange pelts I had seen on the shoulders of both Vanir’s and Niall’s cloaks—crinkled black fur, thick and untamed, and unlike any animal I’d ever seen or heard of in either realm. “Niall wears a pelt like that on one of his cloaks.”

“He does. He killed the creature with his bare hands and a dagger.”

“No shadowfire?”

“One is not allowed to use magic or their power when killing a cù-sìth in the ritual. It denotes cowardice or weakness.” He followed Silas’s concerned stare out toward the mountains in the distance. “You will not likely glimpse the creature. They are rather elusive. It is far more likely that you will encounter a wild spirit of the land than a cù-sìth.”

“Aremis once told me that the spirits of the land are evil,” I said.

“Some are. And there are more of those than there are cù-sìths.”

“Where do they come from?”

“No one knows. They have always been here, just like the spirits that already inhabited Neveshir when Torin and the witches arrived. One could assume that is why the Ancient Fae created these protective circles.” He gestured to the formation before us. “There is still much of the fae’s history that is not known or recorded. Whatever existed or happened before the Seidrs were written is as good as lost.”

“The spirits on Neveshir are benevolent, though,” Nivelle said as she came to our side. “Don’t you find it strange that the ones in this realm are so different?”

Remic sighed as though he had been pondering that very enigma for his entire life and had yet to arrive at a conclusion. “One of the many things I’ve come to wonder about over the years. There is a bit of ancient lore that says the bones of a cù-sìth are the only things capable of killing that which is incorporeal.”

Silas’s brows pinched. “Its bones can kill spirits?”

“So they say. I’ve never tried it.” He reached across his chest and pulled open a flap of leather that was fastened over his flank. From it, he withdrew a slender dagger that I’d never seen before. The hilt was solid black, the metal twisting on itself to form an ornate handle crowned with a red ruby. The blade itself . . . was white as bone. “This was made from the bone of a cù-sìth. Niall had one fashioned for each of us from the stockpile he’d kept from his kill. It was our gift upon becoming part of his Trium.”