Page 92 of The Mortal Queen

Both Gilrel and Peitho exhaled themselves, sharing a breath of relief as the mortal queen opened and closed her eyes drowsily. So, Aisling took Gilrel’s outstretched paw, collapsing onto her knees. Bones dissolved to jelly. As though she herself was drained of blood and left…lifeless. Such a contrast to the might she’d felt only moments ago.

Gilrel unbuckled a flask from her hip and lifted it to the mortal queen’s lips with Peitho’s help. Aisling choked on the sickly syrup before guzzling the entirety of the contents down till no drop remained.

“Where am I?” Aisling groaned, doing her best to will away the throbbing of her head.

“The aqueducts,” Peitho said, screwing the lid back onto the flask. “They run beneath Annwyn.”

“I was in the Isle of Mirrors before Danu?—”

Peitho nodded her head. “She must have sent you here.”

“And the others?” Aisling asked through uneven breaths. “Galad? Rian? Lir?”

“The pools spat them out at the gorge”—Gilrel hesitated, searching Aisling’s violet eyes—“two months ago.”

Aisling shook her head, hands growing numb.

“The whole of Annwyn has been searching for you. There hasn’t been a leaf or stone left unturned.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Danu must’ve accidentally sent you forward in time. Sent you here.”

Aisling stood on quivering knees.

“Or, you’ve been floating around down here in the aqueducts since the others returned.”

Aisling took one look around at the murky waters, the fungus and mold growing between the cracks in the stones.

Peitho scoffed, inspecting the aqueducts herself. “It’s unlikely. Racat would’ve eaten her by now.”

“Racat?” Aisling repeated. “That bestial serpent?”

“You’ve seen it?”

Aisling nodded her head, glancing over Gilrel’s shoulder to the darkness winding down the tunnels where Racat had loomed mere moments ago.

“He appeared shortly after I awoke. That’s why I summoned thedraiocht,” Aisling said, staring at her hands now pruning from such long exposure to the water.

Both Gilrel and Peitho hesitated before meeting Aisling’s eyes once more. A glint lurked behind each of their expressions. One Aisling hadn’t recognized before.

“He must’ve heard or sensed you. He’s travelledthrough the aqueducts, the underground waterways, the gorge, the caves since anyone can remember. Even the oldest amongst us claim he lived before them.”

Aisling shivered, batting away the silhouette of his massive form.

“How did you know? To find me here?” Aisling asked, changing the subject as quickly as she was able lest she burst into flames again.

“We didn’t. Not at first,” Peitho and Gilrel exchanged another glance, inaudibly weighing a decision between them.

“What is it you’re not telling me?” Aisling asked.

“You’ve been presumed dead for weeks now,” Peitho spat bluntly.

Aisling flinched, the wind sucked from her lungs. The implications of such a presumption, catching in her throat.

Gilrel scolded Peitho in Rún before continuing.

“When Lir, Galad, and Rian emerged from the gorge, we thought perhaps you would too but when you didn’t…” Gilrel sucked in a breath. “Lir went mad. He searched the bottom of the gorge by sun and by moon, ordered every citizen and subject in his kingdom to do the same—every fox, bear, and badger with its nose on the ground—until you were found dead or alive. And when he’d memorized the bed of the gorge, he scoured the forests, every body of water within his territory. Even the aqueducts were searched, but if Danu sent you forward in time you couldn’t have been found until now.”

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