But I’m not ready to explain it all to him yet. I can’t even imagine how he’d look at me if he knew that I’m a ticking time bomb. So I stay focused on Kieran. “She killed Aelia’s friend, Kieran. Why didn’t you stop her? You had to have known she was going to try something.”
“Mara is a force, Sage,” he says. “You need to understand, she may not be more powerful than I am, but she’s far more insane, which makes her dangerous. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do.” He looks over to Faelan. “That party you brought Sage to the other night? That was meant to be a bloodworking to manipulate Sage into killing you.”
I lower myself into the chair opposite Faelan, feeling sick at the thought.
“She assumed that she could drive you mad, Sage. She thought it would be easy, that you were weak from living in the human world for too long. It’s why I made sure to put the torque on you right away, why I warned Faelan to get you out of the party.”
“That was a fucked-up warning,” Faelan says, his voice angry.
I add, “You could’ve just called and told us your sister was a homicidal maniac.”
“Every Otherborn left on earth is aware of that,” Kieran says. “And if I had contacted you, she would have known I was working against her. She watches me like a hawk. It’s why I had to slip away. I told her I was going off to lick my wounds from your rejection of me, and she said she’d take care of it, that she’d be sure you became hers. So I watched.”
A thought comes to me, a memory of the dream I had a few minutes ago, just before I woke up, how Lily was thinking of her, and how this unnamed woman in Lily’s mind wouldn’t relent until the power was hers. “Kieran, did your sister do something to my sister?”
He nods, unsaid things in his eyes.
“What did she do?” It suddenly seems very important.
“You’ll have to ask Lily,” he says.
But that’s the last thing I want to do. There’s one other source I could ask, though. Even if it terrifies me. I know that I can call to her—I’ve felt myself do it several times. And if a connection is made, it could answer everything.
FORTY-SIX
SAGE
“I need lavender,” I say, stepping up to the fireplace.
“You don’t have to do this, Sage,” Faelan says, his voice unsteady.
He’s afraid. His goddess has been silent for hundreds of years—most of his life. And now I’m going to draw her closer.
I hope. There’s so much that I need to know, that I need to understand.
The old me of two weeks ago would be baffled by what I’m about to try, but in this moment I have a deep assurance. As a Daughter of Fire, this is what I would do. And I want to feel this. I want to understand. To know why . . . why she just abandoned me to that horror of a life.
Kieran holds out a bowl of lavender buds as if he’d known I would need them. “Is this all you need?” he asks.
I nod, taking some between my fingers.
“Marius should be here,” Faelan says. “As leader of the House of Brighid.”
“He’ll understand,” I say, even though I’m not sure of that. “It may not even work.”
“It’ll work,” Kieran says, very sure. When I glance at him, he adds, “Why do you think Brighid has been silent since Lily’s fall?”
“She only speaks to her daughters,” Faelan says, clarifying.
I’m filled with a sense of purpose as the realization hits: I’m the link to the goddess. It’s a stunning thought. I scoop some more lavender into my palm, my hand shaking as I turn to the fire.
“I’m ready. But I need the torque off, Kieran.”
After a moment, his fingers brush the back of my neck, and the necklace loosens. As it falls away, everything inside me seems to grow lighter, like I’m floating from the ground, a hum filling my chest. Warmth stirs in my belly, but I try to dampen it, not wanting it to spill out. I still don’t know how strong this power is. If Lily really is inside me, then I have a feeling the energy could be monumental.
I focus on my pulse, like Faelan taught me. On the blood weaving through me, the buzzing energy threading into my muscles.
Then I let a small trickle emerge into my fingers, and I toss the lavender into the fire.
The flames spark and shiver. I breathe slowly and try to speak. “Mother Brighid, hear me,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. Please hear me. “I must speak with you. It’s your daughter L—Sage.”
Remember me? The one you abandoned?
“I need your help,” I continue, listening to the same thing I always hear—touch, feed, control—coming through the flames. “There’s an imbalance,” I say. “I’m not sure what to do.”
“Ask her how we can stop my sister,” Kieran says. “We need to somehow block her from watching us or—”
“I got it,” I say, agitated. “Now be quiet so I can hear.”
I take in another deep breath and release it, then say one more time, “Mother Brighid, hear me, please. I need to talk to you about so many things. What do we do about Mara? What do we do about me and . . . Lily?” I watch the dancing light, the flames sliding over the charred logs. I listen to the snapping wood. But I don’t hear any new voices. Just fire.
Then something pops with a spark. The logs hiss.
My daughter . . .
I blink, not sure I really heard it. I keep staring at the flames, straining to listen.
And the whispers come again, like a soft wind: You are more than most.
“Mother,” I breathe, my voice breaking. I move closer, falling to my knees on the hearth.
I reach out to the light. My fingers brush the fire, the blaze encompassing my hand, the flames sliding over the surface of my palm. The heat fills me like a caress. And no pain comes.
Forgive me, daughter, the snapping logs say. I didn’t mean for you to be alone for so long.
An arrow of pain spikes my throat.
I loved you both. My own flesh. I was weak—I couldn’t choose between you and my Lily.
“What is she saying?” Faelan asks.
I ignore him, desperate to stay locked into the connection. “We’re in danger, Lily and I,” I say. “Mara is trying to hurt us. We need your help to stop her, to understand.”
The light flares, and I feel the goddess’s urgency in my gut. Poison. My sister’s daughter is poison. She is chaos, she is destruction, and her weapon will strike true. You must hurry—you must keep him safe.
“Who?” I ask. “Keep who safe?”
Two will be lost. Only one can be saved.
My nerves prickle. “What do you mean? What do I do?”
One made of water who leads my flock. Another a true friend in the wood who gave all and asked for nothing in return. Hold one to you, or the other will be lost.
Dread fills me. The flames dim, returning to embers. And I sense her fade away.
I know who she means. The one made of water who leads—that’s Marius. And the second, a true friend—as soon as I heard the words, Lily’s memories of the wood, of his gentleness, his kindness, all filled my head.
“We have to go to Lailoken,” I say, urgency filling my bones, thinking of him being hurt. My friend. He was my only friend for a time—Lily’s only friend.
“Why?” Kieran and Faelan ask at the same time.
“Brighid says that two people will be in danger, but only one can be saved.” I hesitate, knowing what Faelan will do, but I decide to tell them everything. “It’s Lailoken and Marius.”