I swallow, then clear my throat. “What happens at this thing tomorrow?” The word ceremony makes me think of some secret society or fraternity. I imagine chickens being slaughtered on an altar or a potion I’ll be forced to drink—something with eye of newt in it.
“It’s merely a formality, but it’s vital for your safety as you come into your powers,” Marius says, his voice gentle, like he can sense my anxiety. “The Introduction ceremony tomorrow will present you to the Otherworld, as well as seal an interim protector for you. That protector’s House will shield you until you choose a permanent loyalty to a deity at the Emergence ceremony on the new moon. I’m hoping you will officially choose Faelan to be this protector tomorrow so the House of your mother, Brighid, will have the privilege of giving you safe haven.”
“Why can’t it just be you who protects me?” I ask.
His brow pinches. “Do you not approve of Faelan?”
“He’s fine,” I say. Except he makes me feel too many things I shouldn’t be feeling. He makes that voice too loud in my head. The one that tells me to take. “But you’re, like, in charge, right?” Which probably means Marius is really powerful. Maybe powerful enough to protect himself from me better than Faelan can.
“I’m not usually one to take on such a role.” He gives me a troubled look. “It is your choice, but I would strongly suggest you choose Faelan. He’s best suited for you, more so than I would be.”
Something about his statement worries me. “What’s this protector supposed to do exactly?”
Aelia leans back in her chair. “Teach you how to feed.” She smirks and takes another sip of wine. “It can get a little . . . weird.”
“Enough, Lia,” Marius scolds. “A protector will teach you how to control and manipulate the goddess energy in your blood properly.” He picks the linen napkin up from his lap and wipes the sides of his mouth, then sets the white cloth on his plate, signaling he’s finished. “This isn’t a game to us, young Sage, as Aelia may make it seem. Consider what I’ve said, and we’ll finish this later. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Where are you going?” Aelia asks, sitting up straight again, all her flippancy gone.
Marius stands. “I need to speak with Faelan.”
She shoots me a worried glance, and I realize I’m a coconspirator in covering up for nearly burning down the cottage. Not good. But if Aelia thinks it would be bad for her dad to know what happened, then I’ll just have to go with it, even though she’s annoying.
Right now, I’m more worried about this whole protector thing. There’s so much I don’t understand about this place, about what’s happening to me, and what I am. And after the fire today, it seems even more crucial that I find out.
“I’ll say goodbye now,” Marius says, “since I’ll be leaving straight away through the passage to meet the Cast after I see Faelan.” He walks over to Aelia and kisses the top of her head. “You’d do well to keep a low profile, daughter, until tomorrow night, at least.”
“Of course, Daddy,” she says.
But it’s clear by the look on Marius’s face that he knows she’s not about to heed his warnings. He walks over to Barbara and she stands, letting him kiss her. Their embrace is oddly sterile, and I have to wonder what the story is between them, why he’s with a simple human—or why he’s married at all—when he’s obviously so powerful. And super old. And with what I saw at his office, that half-naked woman hidden away, it’s even more strange.
Marius focuses on me. He steps closer and touches my hair gently, almost absently. “You, my rare child, are going to be brilliant.” His gaze shifts to mine, and I swear a tingle of electricity runs down my spine. “I know you’re desperate for answers, that this must all seem very foreign to you, but your birth House is here for your safety and your comfort. I will ensure that Faelan treats you with the deference you deserve. Just know you are going to be sought. You are the gem in a sea of coal, and once daylight hits you, once the reality of who and what you are sinks into your heart, your world will completely shift.” He hesitates and then adds, “And perhaps ours will as well.”
I want to ask him what he means, why I can feel the weight of his words in my gut. But before I can get my tongue unstuck, he’s slipped out of the room.
THIRTEEN
FAELAN
I open my eyes to a dim haze. I blink, trying to clear my vision, and my eyelashes catch on gauzy coating. A hibernation cocoon? Why am I in—?
There’s a soft sigh in my ear, and something slides across my chest and down my bare torso.
I turn my head. My cheek brushes against silk—no, it’s hair, smelling like sweetened jasmine. It’s a pixie; I can tell from the sugary scent. Her hair is long and reflects the low light with a slow, pulsing glow. Her small fingers play against my abdomen, her leg sliding against mine.
“You’re awake,” she says in a dreamy voice.
My pulse picks up, my skin heating. “You need to stop that hand from moving any lower, pixie.”
I can’t see clearly, but I think it’s Aelia’s friend, Niamh.
She giggles and her body presses into mine as she kisses my neck and whispers close to my ear, “Don’t be silly. This isn’t my first time coming out of hibernation with a son of Cernunnos. Your brother Finbar’s requested me three times.”
The sound of that name makes my blood boil. “Back off,” I say through my teeth. “Now.”
Her touch slips away, and she lifts her head from my shoulder. “You can’t be serious.”
“I can.” I reach out and tear open the webbing of the cocoon over my face. “Get out.” The realization that this girl’s been one of Finbar’s ready playthings has snapped me back to reality. Why am I even in here with her?
I sit up, taking a pull of fresh green air into my lungs, trying to clear my head. I haven’t had an underling share the process of hibernation in a very long time—several hundred years, I think. I’ve made a practice of independence in that area because of the weakened state it puts me in. I don’t always have full control once the spell is cast.
This pixie in my nest is likely Aelia’s doing. Since our run-in last spring, she’s lived to torment me.
“Aelia said you might need a nudge but you’d be into me,” Niamh says, obviously hurt by my rejection. She’ll get over it. She moves beside me, rising from the silver webbing. “Is it because of my huge ears?” She covers her breasts with her hands, her dull eyes looking lost. Her sweet scent dims a bit. She’s upset—hurt. Because I’m being a prick.
My pissy mood darkens even more. “What the feck are you on about, woman?” I yank the rest of the gauzy fabric aside, and tufts of grass come with it.
“Finbar says my ears are ridiculous, that my jawline is subpar compared to other girls he’s fed with.” She reaches up and runs her finger down her chin.
I look away from her, irritated. Because she’s actually very pretty. Not a flaw in sight. Just a whole lot of warm, soft skin. “Finbar’s an ass,” I say. He is an ass. But so am I. “You’re fine enough. I’m just not in the mood. And I’ve got stuff I should be doing. So get yourself covered and get out.”