Page 5 of Void of Endings
Maeve reared back as three females raced toward her. One with springy, burgundy curls. Another with hair the color ofmoonlight. And the third, whose tresses reminded her of the sun. Two of them were fae, one was decidedly mortal. They darted toward her in a flurry of gowns and armor, their faces full of elation. Maeve braced herself for the onslaught of questions she couldn’t answer, for the disappointment that would follow when they realized she’d lost part of herself.
“Maeve!”
“You found them! Oh, Maeve, you found them!”
The one with silver hair reached her first, but Lir was faster. He stepped in front of Maeve like a barrier and held up one hand.
“Stop.” The grim somberness of his tone set Maeve’s teeth on edge. Silence befell the courtyard. “She does not remember us.”
At his words, Tiernan’s hand fell and he stepped back, away from her. “How is this possible?”
Cold seeped into Maeve’s bones at the loss of him.
Lir faced his High King, bowing. “Her time in the Ether stole her memories. She has nothing from before her arrival there, no recollection of the life she lived before she was taken from us. Until her memories are restored, we are strangers to her.”
“Maeve.” The one with a braid of silver stepped forward, the lines of her face etched with puzzlement and hurt. “Is this true?”
She nodded, solemn, wishing she could make them understand.
“I know in my heart that I love each of you. That you’re my friends. My family.” Her nose tingled and she sniffled, willing away the urge to cry. “But your faces are indistinct in my mind. Your names…erased.”
Lir shifted to the side, and the female with golden blonde hair moved closer. There was a swell of magic, a calming repose that mended the growing ache inside Maeve’s heart. She clasped her hands in front of her, golden flower tattoos crawling up herarms. Her gown of blush rippled in the breeze and when she smiled, a distant memory fluttered just beyond Maeve’s reach.
“My name is Ceridwen Velless, High Princess of the Summer Court. Sister to Tiernan.” Her eyes, the same shade as her twin brother’s, glowed with kindness. “And I’m one of your closest friends.”
Merrick moved into her line of sight, his injuries slowly healing.
“Merrick Solasta. Famed hunter of the Summer Legion.” He winked and fisted a hand over his heart. “Devoted champion to High King Tiernan Velless, and to you, my lady.”
The other fae female grinned, rolling a toothpick between her teeth. She wore a belt of daggers slung around her waist and Maeve couldn’t be sure, but she could’ve sworn the female’s eyes changed colors from gold to bright green.
“Brynn Banlisch.” She inclined her head. “Healer. Warrior. Friend.”
Maeve faced the mortal female then, the one whose face was wrought with agony and disbelief, as though she was trying to will Maeve to remember every moment they spent together. She plucked the pale pink rose out from behind her ear and tucked it neatly into Maeve’s braid.
“I am Saoirse Doran. I have known you since we were children. I stood with you in Kells and I stand with you now.” Her voice cracked. She pressed her lips into a firm line, her gaze darting all over the courtyard as though trying to find the words to say. When her gaze finally lifted to Maeve, the lines of her face were filled with hardened resolve. “I will fight alongside you through the brightest of days and the darkest of nights. I will never fail you. I will never betray you. I will never leave you.”
Saoirse’s words were a chord. Broken yet melodic. Devastatingly beautiful. Maeve studied her, reaching up lightlyto touch the rose in her hair. “You have a poet’s soul. Did you know?”
A sheen misted across Saoirse’s eyes, and her smile was brittle. Pained. “So I’ve been told.”
“Maeve.”
Tiernan’s voice sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Goosebumps prickled along her spine as she turned to face him. His gaze roved over her, slow and languid. Her soul sang before him. A flush spread across her chest, rising into her cheeks. He looked at her like she was the essence of life, with a deep and intense yearning, like she was the air he needed to breathe.
“Astora.”He spoke into her mind and she held her breath.
There was a gentle tug on her heart, and the witch thread marking her warmed.
She inclined her head.“My lord.”
“You know my name.”It was a statement of fact, not a question.
Maeve’s eyes darted to his neck, where a golden sun tattoo spiraled down below the collar of his shirt. She looked back up at him, unable to break the spell he cast upon her.“You are Tiernan Velless, High King of the Summer Court.”
“And?”he asked mildly, his brow arching.
The thread tying her to him pulled tight.“And you are mine.”
