Page 9 of Arise the Queen
“Oh, yes!” Gwendolyn reassured, although, in truth, her thoughts had wandered.
“Whence we entered, this is where theFéthremains weakest,” the Púca explained, turning now to assess her with a dark-eyed glance.
“Yes,” she said. “I remember this, and I am told that is the only remaining portal betwixt our realms?”
The Púca frowned. “Yes, and no.”
“What do you mean, yes and no?”
He appeared to ignore that question, introducing another. “Merely because there is one portal does not mean it leads to one location. The manner of your entry determines where you land.”
Gwendolyn’s attention was piqued. “So, then, as with the merest inflection of one’s tone, if you enter wrongly, you may be lost?”
“Never to return, never to be found,” he said, and his voice was filled with what sounded like approval.
But, of course.
Why wouldn’t the manner of one’s entry into a portal be the same as the twisting of words or the tone of one’s voice?
Lir had warned Gwendolyn rather vehemently that the Fae were never to be trusted. Every word that came out of their mouths should be subject to scrutiny. Why then, as demigods, couldn’t they also know how to twist theaetherto their bidding? Hadn’t Gwendolyn already experienced this when Málik turned her into a tree?
Or really, he did not. He simply made herfeellike a tree, and somehow, despite not being a tree, he’d beguiled Locrinus and his men, so they saw her as a tree as well.
Gwendolyn didn’t understand “magic,” but the Fae were masters of deception. And now, looking back over every conversation she’d ever had with Esme and Málik, she found herself searching for hidden meanings behind every spoken word. But how exhausting, how maddening.
Realizing that her thoughts had drifted once more, she tried to find her place in the current conversation. “I was wondering about those trolls?” she said. “Do they answer to your Fae king, or to Manannán?”
Apparently, their blossoming friendship wasn’t immune to the Púca’s irritation. He cast her a narrow-eyed glance over his shoulder. And this time, it was Gwendolyn’s turn to explain. “I heard them speak of Manannán.”
“The sons of Míl dealt with us in bad faith, but the Old King admired their mettle enough to award them… something.…”
Gwendolyn’s brows collided. How did that answer her question? “Something?”
“A treasure.”
Blood and bones.His explanations were hurting Gwendolyn’s brain. She must presume this deal in “bad faith” he spoke of was the Fae’s bargain with the sons of Míl. This was something she knew about from Demelza and through her studies.
Before the Ending Battle, it was agreed the victors of the Last War would choose the spoils. However, when the time came to choose dominions, the sons of Míl tricked the Fae, using their own twist of words. Rather than choose another territory, they chose the half of Ériu that lay aboveground, forcing the Tuatha Dé Danann to choose the Kingdom Below. However, since Gwendolyn already knew this story, she centered her questions on the things she did not know.
“By the Old King, I presume you mean Málik’s father?”
“The Dark One,” said the Púca with a nod. “When the old king learned the mortal king’s ruse, he was amused.”
Gwendolyn furrowed her brow. “But… I don’t understand… if he was so amused by their ruse, and he was king, why then was Manannán banished from the Fae realm?”
“You mistake me. It wasnotthe old king who banished Manannán. It was the New King.Heused the Old King’s… oversight… to wrest his throne, and thenhebanished Manannán.”
“What oversight?”
“Of course—the loss of a sacred treasure,” the Púca explained. “One that was never intended to be bestowed upon mortals.”
“Claímh Solais?”
The Púca nodded. “But there was something else Manannán did to anger the new king as well…”
“And what was that?”
“You above all should know,” the Púca said, and that was as much as he appeared willing to reveal.
