Page 122 of Throne of Dreams
She shuddered in Tiernan’s hold. His arms enveloped her, holding her close. She was meant for more, destined for more. But this magic, this power she wielded, wasn’t enough to heal the broken parts inside of her and she wondered if she would ever truly be whole again.
“You are not broken, astora.”Tiernan’s rumbling voice slid into her thoughts, and she welcomed him.“You must first collect all the pieces of you—new and old. Shards of who you were, what you lost. Your childhood. Your humanity. Friends. Then focus on the fragments of who you are now, what you’ve gained. Magic. A family.”He bent down so his mouth lightly brushed the tip of her pointed ear.“Someone who would destroy the world for you.”
Then he whispered, “You are not broken. You are the pieces of everything good and beautiful in this world. You’ve just yet to see it.”
“Thank you.” Maeve sighed. Somehow, he always knew exactly what to say. He always managed to make her feel worthy. To make her feel…loved.
The word played through her mind, tugged on her heart. He pressed a faint kiss to her temple and her soul settled.
Saoirse smoothed Maeve’s hair back from her face and met her gaze. “What happened to you when you were taken back to Faeven?”
Maeve stiffened, her breath leaving her on a harsh exhale. Behind her, Tiernan rubbed his hand along her back in slow, comforting circles. He was her solace. Her peace. With his silent encouragement, Maeve told Saoirse everything. She told her of Casimir’s betrayal, of how she was brought to Parisa’s dungeon and tortured because she refused to comply, because she refused to be used as a weapon against the Four Courts.
“A weapon?” Her blue eyes widened. “Why would you be used as a weapon?”
“Because I’m theanam ó Danua. My mother was Fianna, the High Queen of Autumn. After Danua took the soul away from Parisa, she gifted it to Fianna instead. Upon discovering she was pregnant, Fianna fled to the human lands to save me from Carman’s wrath.” Maeve shifted, pulling her knees to her chest. “Casimir found me instead.”
Saoirse blinked, pieces of the past slowly clicking into place like a puzzle. “But why? Why did Casimir bring you to Parisa instead of the Summer Court?”
Tiernan laughed but it was harsh. “Because he was a fool. He made the mistake of falling in love with Parisa long before she was something awful. Something wicked. In his desperation, he bound his soul to Carman, after the sorceress promised to help save Parisa from the corruption the greed of power bestowed upon her.”
“The bastard.” She scrubbed her hands over her face, smearing the grime plastered there. “But if Casimir brought Maeve to the Spring Court, then how did she escape? Who freed her?”
“In the end, it was Casimir who rescued me.” Maeve looked to the sky, half expecting to see a drakon circling overhead. “I don’t think he ever imagined Parisa would go so far as to have me brutalized by Fearghal. I think he lives with that regret.”
Saoirse nodded toward Maeve. “The tattoos?”
“They cover my scars,” she confirmed, and Saoirse’s face blanched, then turned red with anger.
She dropped onto her knees, shaking her head, and squeezing her eyes shut. “And what of Rowan? What happened to him?”
Maeve ducked her head, fiddled with the hem of her leggings. “He sacrificed himself to save me.”
“Seven hells, he didn’t tell me.” Saoirse murmured. Maeve looked up and the face of the silver-haired warrior almost fractured. “Merrick didn’t tell me.”
Maeve pressed her lips into a thin line, understanding. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to worry.”
Saoirse tilted her face up to the sky, to where the cloak of eternal gray had begun to fade, to where shreds of sunlight slipped through the mass of clouds. “I wish I’d known.”
Behind her, Tiernan adjusted his hold, letting his hands coast up and down her arms. “It would’ve made no difference, only put another life at risk. And you, Saoirse Doran, are not immortal. If anything happened to you, Maeve would never forgive me.”
“He’s right.” Maeve offered her friend the smallest of smiles. Then she eased up, her gaze trailing over the ground they sat upon.
The gaping chasm of the Scathing had closed and was nothing more than a barren landscape. The earth was still covered in decay and rot. It stretched for miles. To the port. To the Moors. With the Scathing gone, Kells was no longer threatened. It was just a wasteland.
She gestured vaguely to their desolate surroundings. “Why does Kells still look like this?”
Balor shifted forward, bending down to greet his queen at eye level. “Dark magic is not always easy to purge, Your Grace.”
“He speaks the truth.” Tiernan stood slowly, helping Maeve to her feet, keeping one arm firmly wrapped around her waist. “The goddess Danua is the only reason the Four Courts stand as they do today. She restored all of it, she poured her soul into Faeven.”
“Her soul?” An idea took shape in the back of her mind. It was risky, given the weight of the unknown, but maybe there was a chance she could bring Kells back. She could save this place that had once been her home, restore the land where she grew up and maybe that would help mend the hole in her heart. “That’s what I’ll do. I can use the magic of Danua’s soul,mysoul, to revive Kells.”
“Maeve,” Saoirse began, a line forming across her brow.
Tiernan scowled down at her. “Absolutely not.”
She whirled away from him. “Excuse me?”
