“Perhaps we have similar goals,” he offered. It might be true. He doubted it, but perhaps he could manipulate her into giving him more information. At the very least, he would buy Slaíne some more time if she had any ideas percolating.
The nymph queen’s gaze swept over him, piercing like ice daggers. “The Goblets,” she said, her tone stern, each syllable articulated with care, “do not belong in the hands of mortals. We wish to see them reunited…and destroyed. Is that your goal, Lord Ingledark?”
Aidan shrugged. “After I get what I want, then yes.”
“And what do you want? More power?”
He looked to Slaíne, who shook her head. She was right; if they knew he was making deals with Meraude, they were done for. Meraude wanted the Goblets. It didn’t mean she would get them, it didn’t mean she was trustworthy. But she seemed like his only option to getting what he wanted most. Aidan knew he must choose his words with care. “I want my name cleared, my life back.” And my family back. “I have no love for the Goblets Immortal.”
The nymph considered him for a moment, her look thoughtful. She surprised Aidan by taking a sudden step forward, motioning for the guards to relinquish their grasp on his arms.
Aidan stumbled to his knees, but he did not stand. He fought the urge to flinch away as she reached out for him, taking his chin in her hand.
The creature turned his head this way and that, her eye contact never wavering. At last she spoke. “I see it. I see it in his eyes.”
Aidan wondered what she saw. He hoped not too much.
“So much pain. So much loss. He speaks in half-truths, hoping to hide his intentions.” She tapped on his cheek, though not roughly. Her eyes narrowed, and then widened. “This man has been corrupted.”
The nymphs backed away, and the queen dropped her hand. “She is coming. Kill them. Kill them both.”
Chapter Nine
Aidan Called Slaíne, who slipped out of her captor’s hand, so strong a tug did he give her. They were ringed in, outnumbered. He could Dismiss himself ’til he turned blue in the face, but something told him the nymphs knew of this trick and were waiting for him to do it. An hour would be wasted, and when he emerged, Slaíne would most likely be dead.
The nymphs had their iron staves pointed toward them. They only needed their leader out of the way, and then they were clear to impale the two prisoners.
Aidan leapt at the queen and locked his arms around her neck.
She responded by shaking him like a dog getting rid of fleas. It took all of his strength to hold on. “Never mind him,” she choked. “The girl. Kill the girl first.”
“Sir!” Slaíne shouted. “Push me.”
“Push you?” What was she doing, distracting him from their one hope?
“Oh, for pity’s sake.”
The queen shook Aidan free, and he fell onto his back with a great oomph. It was in this moment, staring down a stave, that he Pushed Slaíne away from himself, and watched in amazement as the girl sailed over their heads and soared past the circle with great speed.
“The wood!” she shouted. “Aidan, Dismiss the wood!”
Aidan grabbed the end of the stave with his bare hands, fighting the nymph queen’s strength with gritted teeth. What good would Dismissing the wood do? The fires would burn out, and…. That was it! Clever girl. Aidan reached out as the nymphs ran screaming toward Slaíne. He Dismissed each log, listening to the anguished cried of the nymphs as they dissolved into mounds of ice and sand.
The she-nymph was not finished yet. Before she could be drawn to her death, she brought the pointed stave down with full force into Aidan’s shoulder.
He screamed as pain he’d never felt before coursed through his veins. It burned with three times the strength of the remedy he’d been forced to drink after the Romas had poisoned him. And he saw things. Strange things.
“Don’t let her—” Whatever the queen was going to say evaporated in her throat. She broke apart, piece by piece, and ash rained down from the now-dark sky. The only light provided them was the stars and a waning moon.
Aidan lay there panting as his shoulder went cold, his flesh throbbing in time with his crazed heartbeat. He gasped for air. He was drowning in the ocean. He was being born on the shores inside a strange cave, lit from the light of no sun he’d ever seen before. Light overwhelmed him, and he saw: four Goblets, all an array of colors, all glittering like the eyes of a cat in the semi-darkness. He reached out his hand to grab one, but his arm was weak. His arm was tiny, the size of an infant’s. Aidan cried, and the sound that came out of his mouth was so small, so frail.
“When will it manifest itself?” a slow, deep male voice asked a woman in the shadows.
Aidan silenced his cries; he wanted to hear, though the pain was beyond bearable.
“It is not easy to say,” said a familiar voice, though Aidan could not place it. It was a safe voice, if not a happy voice. “We should know before his third year. Any later than that, he’ll need a Jolt.”
Aidan felt his body go limp and the light flickered in and out. Another face looked down at him, a strange, ugly face that he’d seen before in nightmares. He wept and wept, and the sound rankled the man. That much was obvious. He held Aidan out at arm’s length.
The woman spoke. “Brother, I say we take the vessel and escape. With its power….”
Footsteps thundered in the near distance. The man with the beaky nose hushed her. “Shh. We’ll discuss this later with your husband.” He said the word ‘husband’ with disdain.
“Aidan?”
Aidan yelled out, struggling against the invisible hands that were shaking him. The world grew dark. Stars. So many stars. He rubbed his eyes of them…or, rather, meant to, but the stabbing pain in his shoulder jolted him back to reality. The echo of many screams chased him back to the present moment.
A woman spoke. “Mr. Aidan, you’re hurt. Can you hear me?”
Aidan blinked. He was back in the forest, lying on the ground, staring up at the girl’s wintry face. “Where – where was that man?”
Slaíne held him down. “Sir, you’re in shock. You’ve been stabbed in the shoulder, and – don’t make no sense, sir, but you ain’t lost no blood.” Her fingers gently pressed into the bruise, drawing a low growl from Aidan’s lips. The pressure didn’t hurt, but the whole ordeal had been disorienting enough to make the line between friend and foe blur. “Sorry, did nay mean to hurt you.” She pulled her hand away, and Aidan relaxed. “Can you get up? I daren’t light another fire, lest they come back.” She paused. “I don’t nay think they can, though.”
“They’re dead,” Aidan said. He was certain of it. “Their life forces were tied to the fires.” He shivered and pulled himself up to a sitting position with his good arm, and the other he crossed over his chest.
After a moment, she sat down next to him, shaking as well. Her red hair could pass for fire in the moonlight, and eyes for two embers. “Stop doing that,” she said, surprising him.
“What?”
She frowned at him, opened her mouth, and closed it again. “It’s nothin’.”
“I’m going to look around, see if they kept any of my supplies nearby.” Aidan’s teeth chattered, and he Summoned the firewood he had Dismissed. Of course the logs were cold to the touch. “Well, that’s good to know.” With some trouble, he managed to raise himself to his feet. For whatever reason, Slaíne did not offer to help him, and for that he was grateful. He’d been unmanned enough that evening. “So,” he said, hoping to sound casual. “That was some leap.”
Even in the moonlight, he saw the blush creep up to her scalp. “Nice work.”
He considered her for a moment. Was this an issue he really wanted to press right now? That leap had been supernatural, even for someone aided with a Push; she was hiding something, that was for certain. At last he turned. “Right.”
&n
bsp; Aidan used his eyes and his ability to search for his supplies. There were Pulls out there tugging at his core, but nothing that felt familiar. Nothing that belonged to him. Nothing that he could use. The food, the drinks, the tables, and the bedding that belonged to the nymphs had disappeared with the strange creatures, just as Aidan had suspected.
He sensed her coming, but it still made him jump when she spoke.
“The nymphs are really dead?”
“Yes.” He continued walking.
She followed, making nary a sound. Odd. How did she manage that? Every step he took crackled, twigs breaking beneath his boots. Slaíne continued. “They as good as well gave themselves away, with all the fires, that is. It was easy enough to sort out.”
“You don’t have to explain how you knew, Slaíne.”
There was a short silence followed by a terse, “I did nay know. I guessed.”
Aidan frowned. How could someone so fascinating have such ill timing? Perhaps that was her secret: sheer thick-headedness. He needed peace. Silence. He needed time to adjust to the pain and to clear his befuddled mind. “Slaíne, I believe you.”
There was another awkward pause. Slaíne broke it, and it shattered into a million pieces. “Ai – Sir, I lied. About the Goblets.”
Aidan froze. This was not what he wanted to hear. He turned to Slaíne. “What did you say?”
Slaíne sighed. “Sir, I said I lied.”
“How did you lie?” He approached her in five quick strides. “Answer me!”
She stared up at him, fire rising in her eyes and heat filling her cheeks. “The lot of them, together…. You can’t unite them, sir. It would make the drinker an abomination.”
Aidan ground his teeth. “Is that all?”
“Is that all, he asks. Blimey, sir, but you can’t.”
“I have no choice.”
Slaíne prodded him in the chest, drawing a low growl from Aidan’s mouth. “No choice? You unite those Goblets, Aidan, and you as good as hand that witch immortality.” She paused for effect. “You hand her those Goblets, and we’re both dead.”
“What have you got to do with the Goblets Immortal, Slaíne?” He pushed her pointing finger away. “What are they to you?”
Her eyes darkened. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, dangerous. “I think you know, sir.”
He shrugged. Let her keep her secrets; he had his own affairs to deal with, and adding hers to the mix would only muddy the waters. Aidan did not need any more distractions from his main purpose. With a sigh, Aidan shook his head and walked away. “What would you have me do? Ignore the Goblets? I have a chance to make things right, and I’m going to take it.”
“To make things right?” She tramped after him, her tiny feet now making enough racket to attract a whole horde of goblins and whatever else might be lurking out in the woods. “What exactly have you done?”
“Sunrise isn’t too far off. We should rest.”
Slaíne groaned. “If you want me to help you, you’re going to have to tell me things.”
He almost told her that he didn’t want her help, but his lips could not form the words. “Give me time. Slaíne, please. I know I’m a hard man to deal with, but some things….” He waved his hand about vaguely, a gesture he knew she probably missed in the darkness.
Slaíne sighed, and Aidan felt her retreating. “Not everyone’s going to betray you, you know.” It was said barely above a whisper and with an emotion Aidan couldn’t bring himself to decipher. “I’ll keep first watch.”
Aidan shivered. The night air was cold, and the closer they drew to the dawning, the colder he knew it would get. “No, we’ll both rest. But there is a caveat.”
Silence.
“Slaíne?” He turned, just making out her tense silhouette in the afterglow of the setting moon.
“I have a feeling I’m not going to like this.”
Aidan sighed and rubbed his scratchy chin. “The dew should fall soon.” He puffed out his cheeks and took Slaíne by surprise by snatching her hand with his good one and pulling her closer. “You take my meaning?”
The girl frowned, but didn’t flinch away as he lowered himself down next to her. She was as warm as a peach tart he’d stolen from the cooling rack as a boy.
His body shivered as he snaked his arms around her and pulled her intimately close. With her hot breath on his wounded shoulder, almost all the pain leaked out of him, and he fell asleep, aware how improper and bizarre his current position was.
* * *
He was back in the throne room, standing in the middle of the Seeing Pool, if Slaíne had been right. But there was no Meraude this time. In fact, there seemed to be no one within sight.
“Hello?” Aidan called out, but his voice made no sound. Something was different. He turned and was prepared to rouse himself, when he spied movement from behind the throne. A flash of blue light filled the room, and a small voice screamed.
“Larkin, you know better than to hide back there,” said a familiar cold voice.
Aidan jumped as the mage herself stepped clean through him. “Blast.” He frowned. Something was different about her than what he’d seen before, but Aidan couldn’t place his finger on it.
“Away from the throne. It’s not yours, nor will it ever be.”
A scowling girl with dirty blonde hair crept out from behind the great chair. “Sorry, milady,” she said. “But why bring me here if I’m not to have the throne?”
Meraude’s brow puckered. “The throne was built for someone else. Someone powerful. Not naughty girls who won’t do their mistress’s bidding.” The words were tart and round, and they gave the speaker obvious pleasure when the little girl cringed and hugged herself.
If Aidan hadn’t made up his mind about Meraude, it was made now: the woman was a bully. He took a step forward without thinking, and was able to leave the Seeing Pool altogether.
The girl spoke. “Is the throne for you, then?”
The woman ran a hand through her long hair. “Yes, of course it is.”
“Then why don’t you sit on it?” With a wicked smile, the little girl looked up at her. Aidan knew that smile; there was a gap in those teeth, right between two of them.
“Where have I seen you before?” he asked, circling closer, but avoiding stepping through Meraude by accident.
The mage struck the girl’s grin away with the back of her bejeweled hand. When she pulled away, there was blood on the girl’s face. “You know very well that I cannot. Not yet.”
The girl, Larkin, ignored her gushing nose and the gash on her face. She regarded the mage for some time before asking, “Then why did you steal me? Why bring me here?”
Meraude’s back straightened. “You have something that I don’t have. Yet.”
The girl considered her. “You don’t know things.” Before the mage could answer, the girl laughed a terrible laugh, something too frightening and awful to be coming from a child. “You’ll try to use me to get what you want. I see that.”
Meraude regarded the little girl coldly. “What else do you see, Larkin?”
The girl did not answer. Instead, she posed her own question. “Why here, though? I’ve never seen this place.”
They both looked past Aidan to the Seeing Pool, a dip in the middle of the floor cast in silver. He had a bad feeling about what was to become of the girl. He knew her. How did he know her?
“Step over to the Pool.”
When the girl did not do Meraude’s bidding, the mage grabbed her by the ear and pulled her over to the basin. Aidan stepped out of the way just in time.
“This will amplify your ability.”
The girl regarded the Seeing Pool without saying anything, her expression blank. “What am I to do?”
Meraude let out an impatient groan. “You know, fool girl. Look.” The girl did not. “Look!�
�
Shaking, Larkin leaned over the Pool. Her shoulders heaved. “I see nothing.”
Curious, Aidan circled around to the other side of the basin so that he might watch the two of them, the mage and the child.
“You’re not trying,” Meraude accused.
Larkin peered up at the woman. “That’s not how it works.”
Meraude raised her hand again, but seemed to reconsider her tactics. She lowered the fist and took a step back. “Tell me, how does it work?”
The girl’s lip quivered, and she swiped at her eyes with anger. “Why should I tell you? I want my mama.”
“Your mama is dead. I think you already knew this, Larkin.”
Tears filled the girl’s eyes, and Aidan could bring himself to watch no longer. “I wish to wake now,” he said, raking a hand through his hair as he stepped back inside the basin. His voice still made not a sound, and he could not feel his own hand in his hair. “What sort of trick is this, Meraude? Why show me this?”
But the mage still seemed unaware that he was even there. Besides, hadn’t she informed him that he wouldn’t be able to visit her again in his dreams until her servant had reached him? Whoever and whenever that might be.
“I see….”
Meraude looked like a cat ready to pounce on its prey.
“Don’t tell her anything,” Aidan warned the girl, knowing it was fruitless. He could almost laugh at himself. This clearly was a one-sided vision…if it was, in fact, a vision and not just some common dream.
“It’s a man.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake!” Aidan turned and tried to mentally rouse himself.
“He does not want me to tell you what I see. He looks…confused. Angry. Like he doesn’t believe he’s here. He – he thinks he’s dreaming.”
Aidan froze. Perhaps this wasn’t an ordinary dream, after all.
Meraude pounced. “How can you be sure? Can you hear his thoughts?”
“Of course not,” Larkin snapped. “People’s faces are easy to read. Especially people who have lost so much.”
“Larkin?” Aidan asked tentatively.
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