Page 91 of The Mortal Queen

Aisling needed out of this cavern. However, the onlyindication of the outside world was a circle of light located in the tunnel’s ceiling.

Vines hung from the natural skylight. Surely one of them would be sturdy enough for Aisling to climb towards the topifshe bore the strength to navigate so high, carrying the weight of her entire build.

Aisling wrapped her hands around one of the thicker roots, tugging to ensure it wouldn’t spring loose the moment she entrusted it with her weight. It held. So, Aisling began climbing, pulling herself up with all her might.

Despite how thin she’d become over the last several months, she struggled to lift herself. Her arms burning, her hands, legs, and boots shaking and slipping thanks to the surrounding waters. Aisling managed to raise herself perhaps five feet before slamming back into the caverns. Hands ripped raw till her blood muddied the waters. And if it weren’t for the vibrating of the tunnel, she might’ve tried again.

The dirt, moss, and worms flew from the cavern’s ceilings, showering Aisling. The mortal queen cursed, her head whipping towards the darkness further down the passage.

Following the vibration was a growl. A deep, resonant sound that rattled Aisling’s very core. Filling her ears till she thought they may pop. The growl persisted, growing louder. Closer. The snarl of some colossal beast followed by its wicked purrs and sighs.

Aisling’s eyes widened, desperately peering into the gaping maw of black, more formidable by the minute. It was approaching. Dragging its body through the tunnels and towards Aisling.

The mortal queen launched herself at the hanging vine once more, straining to lift herself. The liana snapped at the top of the opening, sending the mortal queen flying back into the cavern. Aisling’s heart pounded.

“You may call me friend,” the beast growled.

But Aisling ignored it, clenching her fists tostop their shaking. She boasted no muscle nor brawn nor agility. But she did have magic.Draiochtshe’d been practicing with Lir since that morning in the springs. So, Aisling wrenched her eyes shut, biting her tongue till she tasted the iron of her blood on the roof of her mouth.

Come, she called out into her void, the abyss where thedraiochtwaited patiently for its name to be summoned. Silence prevailed as it always did after Aisling hadn’t called upon her creature in some time. But eventually, she heard its bones clicking. Waking. Poking its head from her internal dark and leaping forward.

It gathered in her lungs, her windpipes, her hands burning with a magical charge. Violet fires burst from her palms, crawling up her arms, her shoulders. A torch herself, the vines cowered from her, slithering up their walls and bunching in the creases. Away from the heat she exuded, heat that melted the dirt from the ceilings into mud.

And thanks to the light she now cast, a purple haze lengthened her line of sight amidst the darkness, the outline of a scaly aberration was taking form. Yellowed eyes narrowing into slits as it recoiled, cringing at the sight of her flames, baring its slender, wetted fangs.

More, thedraiochtpurred, coaxing Aisling. So, Aisling listened against her better judgment for she too hungered for more.

The mortal queen lit like a lilac star in the night. It was euphoric using magic like this. Letting that power grow, move through her veins, her muscles, her bones. Watching the faceless Unseelie shrink from her and return to the abyss from whence it came.

A smile stretched across Aisling’s face as she indulged in thedraiochtas she’d never allowed herself before. Magic that she loathed to think she’d been sheltered from all her life. For the way it made her feel was rapturous. So blissful Aisling hardly cared if it was good or evil. All she craved was feelingmore. Having more.

From the top of the chamber, a crash shook the walls of the cylinder. Aisling whipped her head in its direction. Two figures eclipsed the daylight before bolting towards the bottom of the cavern with otherworldly speed. One tall and slender. The other crouched on the first’s shoulder, an armored ball of fur. They descended in a blur of color, splashing into the pool. But even such a splash, waters rippling and smacking the walls angrily, couldn’t extinguish Aisling’s growing flames.

“By the Forge.” The mortal queen heard a familiar voice whisper over the crackling of her flames. Feminine, sweet, as crisp as the autumn air.

“Aisling,” the other figure spoke, cautiously, stepping nearer to the mortal queen. “We’re here to help you.”

The backs of Aisling’s eyes burned, and she hadn’t realized how quickly her heart had been beating, how blurry her vision had become until it cleared enough for her to witness the two standing before her.

Gilrel watched Aisling, amazed. Perhaps horrified, her muzzle ajar so her fangs glinted in the mortal queen’s light. She still wore her silver-plating. Her fur glossed by the light of the fire. And, from where she perched, stood Peitho. The fae princess was dressed in rich, finely cut armor. Sparkling chainmail and a crest Aisling didn’t recognize. The seal of Niltaor, Aisling surmised. Her hair no longer bore its cornelian stones, flower buds, or sunset-hued beetles. No, it was tied in complex braids, falling down her back and ending at her waist. Her beautiful face twisted with alarm.

“Aisling,” Gilrel spoke again, her eyes shifting with uncertainty. With fear, Aisling realized. “Exhale thedraiocht,” she said, holding out her paw.

Aisling looked at the lady’s maid then her paw. Scars, calluses, burns peeking from where her leather sleeve ended ather wrist.

“Exhale thedraiocht, Aisling,” Gilrel said, her voice uneven, something more desperate gripping her throat.

“Gilrel,” Peitho warned, reaching out to catch the handmaid as she scampered down the princess’s arm.

“Please.” Gilrel ignored Peitho.

Aisling looked at her own mortal palms then, wrapped in fire. Why was it so difficult to release thedraiocht? It didn’t want to let go either. It wished for Aisling to grow hotter, burn brighter. And Aisling desired nothing more in that moment than to let it have its way. Wanted to believe in thedraiocht’spromise. But there was no need anymore. The beast had slithered back into its inky den. She could let go.

“The Aos Sí say their magic comes from the gods. There are no gods. Whatever abilities they wield are aberrations. Perversities of nature. As they are themselves.”

Something warm slithered out of Aisling’s nose and into her mouth. Blood. Aisling wasn’t breathing. Had been holding in the magic, pushing herself without realizing. She was supposed to breathe through it. Let it run through her. So why was it caught, begging for more?

At last, Aisling exhaled. The flames extinguished, nothing but tendrils of smoke feathering off Aisling and the stench of burnt Spidersilk permeating the air. Her tunic was nothing more than the charred scraps of what it once was, only her leathers remaining.

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