Page 17 of The Savage Queen

“No,” he said, and Aisling’s heart dropped. A part of her hoped she wasn’t the only mortal in the world capable of harnessing thedraiocht. “We imbue ourselves with trace amounts of magic that strengthen our bones, make keener our eyes, shrewder our minds. Powerful mortals. But we cannot wield magic as the Aos Sí do. Nor as you do.”

“And the symbols?” Aisling asked, gesturing to the backs of Killian’s hands.

“They’re runes, similar to those on your fae friends,” he said, appraising his own. Immediately, the image of Lir, bare-chested, in the feywild’s hot springs sprung to her mind, remembering the interlace and the illustrations painted onto his skin. “A way to channel Iod’s minerals in a certain direction. For example, these are protection runes. Symbols that ward off enchantments and charms.”

“To break the murúch’s power.”

“Aye,” Killian said. “To destroy the murúch’s hold.”

Aisling sat down at her vanity, her mind continuing to swirl. There was no need to further question theFaerak’s honesty. She’d seen it herself. The way Starn’s and Dagfin’s eyes had regained their lucidity the moment Killian had carved their flesh and reunited Iod’s minerals with their blood.

“How much of this are the mortals aware of?”

Killian considered her, seemingly taken aback by her questions.

“I sometimes forget how sheltered you were, faerie. I’ve heard the tales: the daughter of iron and fire locked behind her father’s walls, eager for release until it came in the form of sacrifice.”

A sadistic smile broke across his face, the first signs of a beard lining a mouth of pearly white teeth. Killian spoke ofAisling as though she were another woman, from another time, dead and gone.

“The mortals knowalmosteverything. They bear a vague if not simple understanding of Seelie, Unseelie, and evenFaerak: They believe Seelie and Unseelie are one and the same, sometimes nothing more than myth or tales from the mouths of fools. The royal clanns control how much and what they know, selecting what they consider necessary information from the Forbidden Lore. Most of the history of Ina and her curse is sealed behind túath doors.”

Aisling gritted her teeth. The memory of her own túath’s lies revealed throughout her time in Annwyn reignited embers of fury. How painstakingly slow she’d discovered the truth. How all had deceived her. Her clann, her family, the Sidhe. How all made certain she was weak and easily controlled. A lesson she’d learned at the expense of what little remained of her innocence.

“You have your answers now, faerie,” Killian said, waking Aisling from her bitter reverie. “Now it’s time to hold up your end of the bargain.”

Aisling picked up the brush on her vanity and began unraveling her tangled tresses. Blood slickening her grip.

“My wounds will heal on their own by morning.”

Killian’s expression narrowed.

“We made a deal, faerie. And a promise.”

Aisling smiled.

“You, a human, aren’t weak because the gods made you so. You’re weak because you refuse to do what you must.”

Aisling turned from him, preferring her reflection to the stench of his iron.

“Betrayal. Broken promises. All food for the powerful,Faerak,” she said, as he stormed out the door.

CHAPTER VIII

AISLING

Ice gripped theStarlinglike a heart wronged.

The further north they sailed, the tighter the cold squeezed. Until at last, land was in sight. A behemoth of spear-sharp mountains, snow-dusted pines, and black sands.

Fjallnorr.

Aisling raced to the main deck for the first time since the murúch, bracing herself against the cold. The remaining crew eyed her more heavily now, their hatred hardening the air until Aisling found it difficult to swallow.

She’d saved them all. If it weren’t for her, for the choice laid upon her hands and hers alone, every one of them would be dead.

“You should eat.” Dagfin’s voice materialized beside her, drinking from a flask of what Aisling could only assume was doused withFaerakOcras. “Once we leave the ship, food and drink are not guaranteed.”

Aisling shifted in place.

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