Page 66 of Her Irish Treasures
Lifting his head from my shoulder, Aidan searched my face, a heavy scowl creasing his brow. “Did he say what?”
“He wanted to know how to kill Balor once and for all.”
Keane snorted. “Like Warwick said earlier, it’s nigh impossible to kill a High Court fae on the mortal plane. It’s even harder to kill one in Faerie.”
“Balor’s High Court fae?” I asked. “I’m not even sure what that means.”
“All the Tuatha de Danaan and Fomorians are High Court,” Keane replied. “Most Tuatha are light and most Fomorians are dark, but they intermarried thousands of years ago, so it’s much more complicated than that.”
Evidently I looked as confused as I felt. “Tuatha de Danaan are the ones who brought the four treasures to Ireland, right?”
“According to the legends, aye,” Doran replied. “Though it’s not as simple as that. Much has been lost over the lifetimes we’ve lived and died. I used to think that we were merely mortal warriors who were gifted magical powers by the fae, but maybe we were fae once upon a time. Or a mix of human and fae. The queen might remember, but that was long before even her time.”
“Queen Morgan?”
Ivarr’s golden eyes flared with streams of light. “So not all the old legends have died.”
Sheepishly, I lifted my shoulder in a bit of a shrug. “I didn’t know the legends. I met her when I was in the Summer Isle.”
With a grunt, Aidan gave his empty mug a slight push toward Warwick. “Sounds like I need another drink for this tale.”
Warwick refilled the mugs but not with his normal light-hearted wink and tease. In fact, he avoided meeting my gaze entirely.
:It’s not your fault,:I told him.
:Aye, but it is. I failed you.:
:Never. You did what you could.:Out loud, I said, “Jonathan wanted me to go to his home in Faerie. He wouldn’t tell me where it was or what his true name was. I knew that if I went with him, I’d be dead as soon as he got what he wanted, but the alternative was to stay and wait for Fhroig to wake up.”
“Bloody hell,” Aidan growled. “He put a trap on top of Fhroig’s lair? That’s some underhanded nasty shit that I’m not even sure Evil Eye would do.”
“The island wasn’t land at all,” I whispered, shivering at the memory. “Fhroig started to wake up. His eyes popped up out of the ground, and a giant hole started to open up before us. Jonathan said that if the mouth opened all the way that even he couldn’t save me.”
Ivarr’s eyes burned like lasers. “It’s a fucking horrible to die because Fhroig doesn’t kill you right away. He’s magical. He can digest you while he keeps you alive, some say for centuries.”
My stomach quivered with dread. “I guess Jonathan wanted me to suffer if he couldn’t get what he wanted.”
“That’s what I don’t get.” Keane shook his head, his brown eyes almost as icy as Aidan’s. “What could you possibly know that he hadn’t already been able to get out of you? What’s so important that he’d risk exposure on the mortal plane for five fucking years? Though I suppose that’s but a blink of an eye for any fae.”
“He said the key to defeating Evil Eye was written on my soul. That’s why the treasurekeeper’s always captured or killed as soon as possible.”
Doran rumbled. “What else did the bastard say? Anything that will help us identify him?”
I closed my eyes, trying to remember exactly what Jonathan had said. “He’d been shielding me, both from Warwick and from Balor’s minions. Then he said something about pillars.”
A low, sweet chime rang through the pub. My eyes flew open, and I looked up at Warwick. Though his lips were firmly clamped shut and he didn’t shake his head or give me any other clues, a light danced in his eyes.
“Can you remember exactly what he said?” Aidan asked.
The scene played back through my mind. The widening hole, something bubbling up inside it. Likely a giant, sticky tongue. Jonathan’s urgent voice. “’My pillars still stand on the plain where Evil Eye was first defeated.’”
The chime rang again, longer, making goosebumps race down my arms.
“Holy fuck,” Ivarr whispered.
The other guys just looked at each other. Even Keane’s sultry lips were in a harsh slant.
“What?” I asked. “Who is it?”
