Page 75 of The Savage Queen

Stunned, she hesitated, searching for Lir around the tree, until she turned and came face to face with the Sidhe king.

Lir grabbed her throat, pushing her against the oak, studying her as she burned, fires desperately trying and failing to puncture his fae gauntlets. And anything more, any other new talent she bore, was swiftly bled from her lungs as Lir held her throat firmly, stifling herdraiocht.

“In truth,ellwyn, nothing could stop me from finding you,” he said, allowing himself to drown in her violet eyes as he tilted his head down to meet her. “Not a mortal legion, not the Sidhe, not even fate could keep me from you.”

Aisling’s expression twisted with rage.

“In Oighir we were allies thanks to a common goal, my freedom. Outside, we’re competitors once more. If you think you can prevent me from achieving my ends at the cost of the curse breaker, I’ll make certain you rue the day you ever found me again.”

The corners of Lir’s lips curled like a fox. “Your chances of surviving and reaching Lofgren’s Rise alone are not forge-blessed.” He leaned closer till their lips were a mere breath apart. “Whether our goals are aligned or not, you need me.”

Aisling stopped her struggling, seemingly as bespelled as he himself. She appraised him, hesitating before speaking. Her attention burned his blood the way her magic was designed to by nature. Allowing Lir a moment to look upon her fully for the first time. As they couldn’t in the shadows of the alcove, the steam of Oighir’s bath, or the veil of night atop Fionn’s castle. The two of them lost between the folds of this realm and the Other.

She was heartbreaking. The nuances of her features, blessedly unholy. Enough to bring Lir to his knees if just for one more?—

A clang of metal sounded to their right.

Lir and Aisling fell apart, searching and finding the source of their interruption.

“I’ll wear your bones around my neck,Faerak!” Peitho screamed.

They both turned to find Peitho mid-tussle with another. But Galad, Filverel, and Gilrel all stood to the side, wringing their garments of ice water. In which case, Lir could piece together who’d leaped through the mirror alongside them, masked by chaos.

Dagfin unpinned himself from Peitho’s grip, slamming her into the shore and poising a dagger beneath her chin.

Dagfin grimaced. “Enough! Before you force me to harm y?—”

Peitho headbutted Dagfin. He flew backward, shoved to the ground in mid-air.

Dagfin slammed into the stones, the wind knocked from his lungs and Peitho’s boot atop his chest.

Unable to stop himself, Lir’s eyes drifted to Aisling. She’d already jolted upright, hair sticking to her back, her arms, her neck, watching in horror as theFaerakstruggled without his dust.

“So, this is the great strength of a mortalFaerak.” Peitho smirked.

“He isn’t supplied with his Ocras, Peitho,” Gilrel chimed, shoulder still bandaged from the second test and rifling through every one of Dagfin’s pockets while he lay prone. “And judging by his complexion, not for some time.”

“If you’re searching for iron, it’s all been confiscated by Fionn,” Dagfin growled, nailed to the ground by Peitho’s otherworldly strength.

“Iron, poisons, coins. Whatever piques my fancy,” the pine marten huffed, finding nothing but lint and water.

“Speaking of Fionn, we must move,” Galad said, already scouring the surrounding wilderness for a direction. “If it weren’t for his mirror shattering, he’d already be a step behind.”

“I’ll be quick.” Peitho drew her blade,Luinagren, from her back.

“No!” Aisling shouted, stepping forward.

Instinctively, Lir’s fingers twitched, his body reaching for her without his consent. But he stopped himself, forcing his body still.

Peitho whipped toward Aisling, brandishing the tip of Luinagren at her instead, eyes wandering to Aisling’s fists at her sides.

“This is none of your concern. The mortal prince still owes a debt to the Forge, and I intend to deliver it.”

This was true. Dagfin had deceived thedraiocht. Magic intended to bind onecaerato another at his and Peitho’s union. A mortal trickery the Forge wouldn’t soon forget. Magic given was always magic taken.

“I’m in favor of Peitho exacting her justice,” Filverel said, tying his hair behind his head. “Thedraiochtisn’t the only one owed a debt. Peitho, too, was cheated.”

Aisling scowled, but Galad spoke first.

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