Page 101 of The Mortal Queen

“The mortals are safe. What need is there to over-complicate matters? The Aos Sí and Unseelie are one and the same Ash, and any tales they’ve told you of them being separate are lies, manipulations, half-truths. You’ve been told two halves of the full story, daughter. None complete and both misleading without their second half.”

“So, while you wage war on the Sidhe, what of the Unseelie? What ofthe true threats to mortals that lie just beyond their cottages? Just beneath the rivers where they fetch their water? The woods where they’re forced to hunt lest they starve as they’re starving now?”

“That’s why we have theFaerak,” Nemed said, gesturing towards Dagfin. “One of many fae titles given to fae things. Or so I’ve learned over a lifetime at war with them.”

“’Hunters,’ in the mortal tongue,” Starn added quickly.

Aisling’s eyes betrayed her, following her father’s finger until they found Dagfin.

“The Faerak hunt the Unseelie whenever issues arise. A pixie terrorizing children in their own gardens, demons feeding on mortal women’s dreams as they sleep, dragons setting fire to settlements and stealing what little livestock we have, all hunted down and slaughtered by our Faerak. Expertly and thoroughly trained to eliminate the threats you speak of. Threats the fair folk allow to feed on mankind should innocent children or civilians wander too far from their homes.”

Dagfin reluctantly met her eyes. Melodies he’d played for her on the piano still echoing whenever she thought of him. Perhaps he had a chance against Peitho after all. Aisling’s heart warred between relief and outrage.

Of all of them, Aisling hadn’t expected this. Starn, Iarbonel, Fergus, and Annind were her elder brothers, each given reason by their father to look down upon their little sister. But Dagfin was a friend. He who’d sworn to never lie to her whilst they threw coins in the courtyard well. He was now aFaerak? So knowledgeable, so capable, so prominently aligned for power whilst Aisling was nothing. Left in the dark to rot until they could trade her as a pawn.

Aisling stood from the chair, the seat toppling over. There was truth in Nemed’s words, Aisling could tell. A genuine desire for the well-being, strength, and prosperity of the mortals. All of which Aisling understood. Wished for mankind herself. Didn’t she? For it dawned on Aisling here and now that Nemed was desperate to not only ensure the mortals were healthy, safe, and thriving but to ensure his side of the war won. That mankind lay waste to those who were stronger, older, more powerful than the fair folk through iron and fire. To demonstrate a curse couldn’t make them powerless. What mattered was to eat and not be eaten.

Lir was right. Had always been right and Aisling too naive to understand.

“We are all beasts, slaves to desire. Mortals, Aos Sí, and all else driven by that which will sate our appetite. You must overpower that which sought to overpower you. Become the predator and not the prey.”

“You wish to corrupt me.”

“No. I wish to show you, you already are.”

“Ash,” Dagfin started but it was too late. Aisling buzzed with anger, controlling the writhing rage of thedraiochtlest it master her. Aisling didn’t think herself capable of such fury. Perhaps it was also thedraiocht, feeding off her emotions and growing larger, stronger, more capable.

“Ash,” Galad said next, placing a hand on Aisling’s shoulder. But before she could address the fae knight at her side, he hissed in pain, drawing back his hand and looking up at the mortal queen with wide eyes. Those sapphire orbs glittering with surprise as he devoured the sight of her.

“Forge help us,” he cursed, collecting himself long enough for Aisling to look to the others for answers.

Their familiar faces beheld her in horror. And more than the dread, the horror, the confusion, was something else. Something far more painful to behold: a complete lack of recognition. As though Aisling were a stranger, employing their dead sister’s body like a host. Perhaps that was exactly what she was, a creature of great power and thus evil, for Aisling had never beheld anyone with such strength use it forgood. And why should they if they wished to rule and not be ruled?

So, Aisling held out her hands, confirming what she already knew to be true. Without having called upon it. Without having spoken its name. After having believed she’d successfully resisted its calls, thedraiochtemerged all the same, consuming her with fire till every pore on her body blazed in fiery, purple gems. She was a torch-lit star, hurtling towards the Earth hungry for destruction, thedraiochtusing her instead, and she found she enjoyed it.

“What have you done?” her father rasped, eyes wide, glazed over with tears. “What have you done, Aisling?”

CHAPTER XXXI

By now, everyone stood, inching away from Aisling till their backs pressed against the canvas walls. All save for Galad who moved to face her, his fae features dappled in sweat from his proximity to her flames.

“Breathe, Aisling,” Galad encouraged her, his face twisting with an uncertainty, an anxiety she’d never glimpsed from him before.

“You’re not breathing, you need to breathe. It’ll implode within you otherwise,” he continued, but Aisling had lost control, thedraiochtbloomed within her, sealing her lungs shut. For so long as she couldn’t exhale the excess magic, it would swell within her. Stretching until there was no more room. And Aisling could feel it, understand it, its insatiable desire to be unleashed. To consume and spread. Joyfully, euphorically writhing its way through her so the violet flames grew larger, rising to the steepled center of the tent and charring the drapery.

“Aisling,” Galad said, his voice a croak of desperation. “Breathe,” he commanded. The mortal queen met his eyes and shook her head. She couldn’t. Could hardly hear him over the roar in her ears, as though the entire ocean was crashing around her and she herself was spinning, tossed, thrown,stolen away by a wave of pure desire. Of ancient, primeval need. And it hurt the longer it went on. So, Aisling reached inside herself, searching for that arcane creature, but it was nowhere to be found. No longer did it reside in its black pit. No. It’d escaped.

“You must master it lest it master you.”

It would destroy the mortal queen and everything that surrounded her before it surrendered the control it hung over her head now, Aisling realized. The mortal queen fell to her knees, her legs giving out. Unable to see, hear, feel through the fattening flames around her.

“Do something!” Nemed snarled, his head snapping towards where Dagfin stood, his expression harrowed with confusion. But once he’d been directly addressed, the moment was fleeting.

Dagfin’s entire posture transformed as he unbuckled a thick, metal chain from around his belt. He spun it in the air five or six times, Aisling couldn’t tell, before launching it at the mortal queen. The chain caught her left hand, and as she made to free herself its momentum spun around her right wrist, binding her. It was a bolas, Aisling realized to her own horror. An iron one, a lengthy chain whose ends held heavy weights to entangle its target. Aisling had witnessed the weapon be used on Tilrish training grounds before, mostly for educating townsfolk on how best to capture wild game. A comparison that maddened the mortal queen. But such rage was tempered, violently shoved back into the abyss within her, back into its dwelling along with thedraiocht.

And at the touch of such potent iron, within its aggressive grasp, her eyes burned as if they’d been scalded with steam, her body felt heavier. It was nearly impossible to keep upright, her nostrils sparking with heat forcing her to curl in on herself. She’d never felt like this before. The way these shackles made her feel. As though she’d been placed in a box made of thorns and the walls closed in around her. Slowly. Herbones seemingly dissolving beneath her skin.

Aisling screamed but she couldn’t fight. Struggled to see past the tears flooding her violet eyes. But the fires were gone. Nothing but smoke and scorched Centari rugs, grass, and furniture to expose the magic she’d wielded here on this night.

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