“Silence,” he growls, struggling to his feet, leaning on the tree. “Hear me, Lily. I’m telling you, there is only one thing to do if we’re to salvage this and protect what we’ve created.”
I stare at him, shocked by his weakness, even as I feel his wrath filling the trees. The raven screeches, then spreads its huge wings, lifting off the ground to settle on a branch above.
“It is a very old magic,” he says, his voice shaking now. “It is very delicate. But it will allow us to hide, to bide our time.” He coughs and blood stains his lips; he wipes it with his sleeve as if it were nothing. “We will create a story. It will go before us, and when we’re able to complete the circle, we can find our way back. It’s the only way.”
Fear crawls through me. “What magic is this?”
“We sever our spirits,” he says, “leave our vessels behind us.” When I only stare at him, he continues, “You will hide yourself in Fionn, and I will hide in Bran.” He glances at his raven, determination in his eyes. “We’ll ensure that your demi body is preserved for a while so that you can come back first, when the time is right. My body will need to be destroyed, however, because of the poison—and it must happen tonight before we leave this wood. I trust you will find a way to pull me from Bran and place me in a proper vessel soon after your own rebirth.”
It’s impossible to breathe. My whole body shivers as I listen to him, my fire stirring in my skin. Tonight? He will be lost to me after tonight?
I can only shake my head.
“Once Mara believes we’re lost forever, we’ll be free to find our window to destroy her.” He leans back against the tree and stares up into the branches. “When I have my strength again, I’ll gleefully rip her spine from her body with my bare hands.”
“Goddess be with us,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. My teeth chatter as my insides quake.
He reaches out to me, pulling me closer, into his embrace. “You mustn’t allow her the victory of your tears. Be strong, Lilybird.”
“I won’t be anyone when you’re gone from me.”
“Nonsense,” he says, kissing my brow. “You are the Daughter of Fire. No man or woman will touch you and come away whole.”
We sink down, resting in each other’s arms beneath the tree, the roots and moss cradling us.
“Mother has spoken of a sister for me,” I say, thinking of my prayers last night. “A new daughter will come into the fold. Perhaps, in time, she’ll aid us.”
“I’ve left a message for Kieran to find once he’s ready,” the king says.
I clutch him tighter, burying my face in his neck, unable to consider letting go.
“I will find you, Lily,” he says, his chest vibrating against my temple. “I will always find you.” He pulls back, tipping my chin to meet his gaze. “Look at me and see the truth. I am yours and you are mine.” His silver eyes search my own. “Nothing will destroy that. Neither time nor death will sever us.”
He leans in, his lips brushing my cheek, kissing away my tears, as he whispers promises into my skin that I cling to. His hands grip me tight, holding me to him, bruising me, pulling me down beside him, insistent, urgent. Until we’re cradled in the roots, twisted together in the clover, clutching, grasping for an escape. Moving to the sound of our breath. To the beat of our hearts.
Saying goodbye.
FIFTY-TWO
SAGE
I sit under the trees by the pool and watch the sun rise on the day of my Emergence. The sky is silver as the birds begin to stir. It shifts to pale blue, then a wash of pink emerges as the first rays of sunlight hit the ocean. The dew clings to my skin.
The dream from the night before lingers, and an ache has settled in my rib cage since I opened my eyes. Now I know how it ended. Lily didn’t kill the king, not really. I have no idea what to do about it. Especially today of all days.
Today I choose my path. Last night I packed a bag, in case the path I choose to follow is not to pick one of the Houses at all but to walk away altogether. To become a child of a goddess in hiding.
When I packed the bag, I wanted that option in front of me. But once I woke up, the vision of my king’s death vivid in my mind, I realized I couldn’t go anywhere.
I look down at my hands, knowing they’re not Lily’s. But I feel like I can still see the blood of my lover on them . . . so much blood . . . He showed her how to aid him in pulling his spirit free, in destroying his vessel, placing him temporarily in the large raven, Bran. Poor Lily obeyed down to the last horrible detail.
Until she was a shivering mess, like a crimson-stained ghost in the clover.
My first instinct after waking was to grab a steak knife and find Mara to cut her head off. But that isn’t a plan I pull off in one piece. She’s way too powerful. And it’s clear that she’ll ensure others get ripped to bits along with me.
I have to think of something else.
I hear Faelan’s cottage door open and close, and I turn as he appears on the pathway.
“Good morning,” he says tentatively, like he can sense my mood.
I smile up at him, my insides heating as my energy stirs in spite of my torment. “How’d you sleep?”
“I didn’t,” he says. “I was making sure the antidote really worked for Marius as well as we thought.”
“How’s he feeling?” We gave the cure to him yesterday morning. By evening he was downstairs making pancakes.
“He seems . . . amazingly unaffected. Back to his old self. You can’t talk to him today, though, until this Emergence is over—no demi contact from the Houses until after the ceremony. I don’t count, since I’m your shadow.” His voice becomes unsure at the end. He settles in to sit next to me and his eyes go to the sunrise. “Are you all right?”
I nod, lying.
He turns his attention to the rocks and moss between us. “My job ends today.”
I reach out and touch his arm, moving my thumb back and forth. I want to tell him he’ll always be my protector, but I don’t know that. I don’t know what my life will look like after today. I do know one thing, though. “You’re the one I want beside me,” I say.
He searches my face. A small smile lifts the corner of his mouth.
I lean in to him, resting my head on his shoulder, and hope I can hold on to this feeling—of home.
I stand alone in the shadow of the large stones and watch the representatives of the five Houses walk onto the stage. My heart races as they take their places on the large pentagram painted in the center of the courtyard. Marius of Brighid first, stepping onto the point of fire. Then Gwyn of Lyr, walking forward to stand on water. Beatrix of Arwen next, moving to the point of air. Finbar of Cernunnos, stepping up to earth. And last, Princess Mara, the creature who destroyed my sister and would like to do the same to me, slinks over to her place on the point of spirit, a vision of pale skin, long dark hair, and deadly beauty.