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The door to the kitchen stood a little ajar, and Maeve was about to push it fully open when Alek’s words made her pause.
“Why doesn’t Merle just tell her? Maeve has a right to know.”
Her breath caught. I should go. This clearly wasn’t meant for her ears. Curiosity be damned—nothing good ever came from listening in on these kinds of conversations.
Lily replied before Maeve could bring herself to move. “She doesn’t want to put her in that position. I mean, just imagine what it would do to Maeve if Merle tells her.”
Tells me what? Closing her eyes, she shook herself. If Merle was keeping something from her, there had to be a good reason, and she should trust her sister’s judgment. Go. Now.
And yet her feet remained glued to the tiled floor.
“Maybe there’s still a chance to fix it,” Lily added.
“But there’s not much time left, right? What did Merle say, how long until she has to uphold the balance next?”
“A couple of days, depending on how much of her magic Arawn will use.”
A frustrated sound from Alek. “That fucking rat bastard. Knowing him, he’ll keep draining her for stupid shit, and then before you guys can find a solution, the payback will hit, and Merle—”
What? Merle what? Maeve wanted to scream.
“You know,” Lily said so quietly Maeve had to strain to hear her, “having a baby is already so risky. Like, there’s so much shit that can go wrong, and miscarriages are so common in the first three months. And I know how much Merle and Rhun wanted this. They’ve been trying for over half a year.” Lily took an audible breath. When she continued, her voice was thick with tears. “I know how much this means to them. Merle wants to be a mom so bad—” Her sentence ended in a sob.
Dizzy, Maeve grabbed the wall so she wouldn’t collapse. There was no blood left in her head. Couldn’t be. Her heart wasn’t pumping anymore.
“And now this,” Lily continued, her voice paper thin. “Gods, Alek, this is so unfair. I thought it was bad that my mom had to decide which one of her babies to give to the fae, but Merle having to choose between keeping her sister safe from Arawn or saving her baby? This is so fucked up.”
Her heart chose that moment to come back alive to thunder in her chest, to rush blood so fast through her body, her vision swam in red. Pieces snapped together in her mind.
Merle pregnant…upholding the balance…risking the baby…because of her deal with Arawn…
…to keep him from claiming Maeve.
Gasping for air, she pushed off the wall, walked back into the foyer, up the staircase and into her room, locked the door and sank to the floor, feeling so much that she felt nothing at all.
Chapter 22
Now or never.
Isa watched Basil step off the path into the underbrush to “go water some tree,” as he put it, giving her the precious opportunity she’d been waiting for. Ever since she paid her debt to him, she’d been racking her brain, trying to remember the correct spell to cast on Calâr. She still wasn’t entirely sure she had it right, but time was running out. She needed to act.
They’d left the inn at dawn, and with the midmorning sun peeking out from behind a layer of clouds, they were so close to Nornûn now she could sense its magic. This might be the last chance she’d get before they reached the oracle. Now Basil had left them alone for a few minutes, she could turn on Calâr and find out once and for all what, exactly, he planned to do—and how to stop him. If she managed to extract the details of Calâr’s agenda from him this way, she’d never need to reveal her own duplicity to Basil…she could sink into death’s arms without having tainted the bond she shared with him.
Leaves rustled as Basil disappeared in the bushes. As soon as he was out of sight, Isa glanced at Calâr out of the corner of her eye, her muscles tensing. He was righting his tunic, looking in the other direction. One deep breath…and she muttered the words that would hopefully shatter his mental shields, penetrate his mind, and reveal his thoughts and memories.
“Arîmai koyun’or tarhâ,” she whispered, forming the complex hand gesture to unlock the magic of the spell, and praying to the Fates she got it right. There was a reason witches studied years to learn this craft—it was tricky, complicated, and dangerous if done incorrectly.
Power charged the air, then struck and slammed into Calâr. He gasped, swayed, stumbled against a tree. Isa staggered as well, as affected by the magic as he was, drawn to the object she’d cast her spell on. She tumbled into Calâr, her thoughts whirling, sights and sounds of the outside world fading in a storm of mental images as she was sucked into the other fae’s mind.
Darkness, light flickering to and fro, shadows rising and falling like mist. Murmured voices echoed as if reverberating in a great hall. Colors and shapes formed out of the haze.
…unparalleled power…rare half-breed magic…
Basil’s image flashed, faded.
Make them kneel, make them weak. I’ll make them fear me.
Greed gripped her, so strong she shivered from it.
