Page 79 of The Mortal Queen

“The snake agrees,” he said, toying with its bobbing head. “In time you’ll learn to use thedraiochtlike the Aos Sí and the forest.” The woods stirred then, swaying their great bodies to the melody of their king’s voice. So, the snake untangled itself from their hands and swam through the waters, crawled up the rocks and into the woods, lost to the glare of the rising sun.

Aislingfaced Lir.

“Filverel calls me a weapon. Aren’t you afraid of what you claim I’m capable of?” Aisling asked.

Lir considered for a moment.

“My curiosity far outweighs my fear,” he confessed. “Besides, it’s unnatural to deny oneself power. There are few happy endings when it comes to those who refuse to wield their magic.”

“What do you mean?”

“For the Sidhe, not using thedraiochtis suffocating. An essential need to survive and grow.”

“And for me?”

Lir considered her. “I don’t know what it’ll be like for you. But I do know thedraiochtis a greedy creature. One that must be fed.”

“You speak of it as though it’s sentient.”

“That’s because it is a spirit with great agency. One the gods forged into the lungs of the Sidhe, the Unseelie, the forest, and the wilds, thedraiochtlives within us all. Through us. With us. You, however…I don’t know how it found you.”

Aisling released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. If it were true—if Aisling did possess the ability to wield thedraiocht—she couldn’t waste it. Couldn’t let such power slip through her fingers.

“Teach me,” she said, her voice more settled than she felt herself. “If it was indeed I who wielded those flames, teach me to do it again.”

Lir licked his lips, resisting the urge to smile ear to ear.

“Very well. Follow me.”

The fae king swam towards the other side of the spring. Where the waters sank deep, plummeting into the earth till only the black eye of the abyss glared back.

“We’re to swim down there?” Aisling asked, careful not to slip over the lip of stone beneath her bare feet.

“You won’t need to,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her under. Aisling inhaled as deeply as her lungs would allow,holding her breath as she sank deeper into the spring. They descended, ears popping from the pressure, until both floated at the center of an enormous cylinder of jagged, black rock. The surface rippled a few meters above while the bottom was lost in the clouded distance below.

Bubbles beaded around them, dancing through her ebony hair as the fae lord held her under.

Panic swelled within her chest. So, Lir tugged Aisling nearer to himself, releasing her hand and bringing her body against his own. If Aisling were capable, she might’ve pushed him away, but within this sub-aquatic realm she could only trust the fae lord lest she drown, held beneath the world by a strength far more potent than her own. So, she did, allowing him to hold her. His flesh to touch her own and coil her lower abdomen. The rapid pace of his heart against her breast.

Lir closed his eyes.

Pressed against him, Aisling could feel his body still. His legs stopped moving and his arms loosened around her. Aisling’s heart stuttered, fear gripping her from the inside out. They floated, tangled in one another.

At last, Aisling felt the rhythm of his chest rise and fall. The great sweep and brush of his breath against her own chest. Aisling hesitated. His breath?

Lir opened his eyes, reaching out to cup her cheek. And from his palm bloomed rare violets, weaving through Aisling’s hair and tickling her ears. Aisling’s eyes grew wide. And the flowers floated towards the surface like maidens twirling their ball gowns, their skirts ballooning around their green and slender legs.

An explosion of breathy bubbles escaped her lips. She’d witnessed thedraiochtbefore but still, it impressed her. The ability to grow and create green life from the palms of his hand. Aisling didn’t think she’d ever grow accustomed to it. But tobreatheunder water—Aisling was left stunned by such anenchantment.

Lir wrapped his arms around her once more, tipping his head towards her.

Your turn, he said wordlessly.

So, Aisling closed her eyes. Her lungs burned and her vision blurred, dark shadows dancing at her sight’s edge. She was running out of breath.

Aisling concentrated, searching for that sentient push she’d felt in the fomorian crater. All she felt, however, was as she always had: mortal. No other foreign will to accompany her own.

Aisling opened her eyes to find Lir watching her, his grip tightening around her torso. Still, his chest rose and fell against her own. Perhaps the fair folk were wrong. Perhaps she knew no magic and now she’d drown, attempting to do the impossible. Mortals and magic were unsuitable.

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