

# NETHERWORLD

## The Hallowed Realms Book 1

### By

### Amy Miles & Danielle Bannister

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright (c) 2017 by Amy Miles & Danielle Bannister

All rights reserved

Published by: Amy Miles & Danielle Bannister

Smashwords Edition 2017

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

For information about permission, write to:

Amy@amymilesbooks.com or daniellebannisterbooks@gmail.com

NETHERWORLD

Cover Design by Q Design

Edited by Lawrence Editing www.lawrenceediting.com

BISAC: Fiction / Fantasy / Mythology

# Table of Contents

Copyright Information

Acknowledgments

Note from the Authors

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Epilogue

Author Bios

Other Works by Amy Miles

Other Works by Danielle Bannister

For More Information

#  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

We want to thank our beta readers, most of who read several versions of the book to help make it what it is today. For that, we are eternally grateful. Those wonderful women are: Julie Cassar, Jenn Tenney, Heather Brown, Demia Steines, and Valerie Cooper.

#  NOTE FROM THE AUTHORS

Because this book takes place in Northern Ireland, we wanted to add in some local slang and use the UK spellings for words to try and keep the feeling of the book as authentic as possible.

# CHAPTER ONE

## TARYN

FLATLINE. THE MOMENT WHEN one life ended and the next began. That was my cue.

Death was final, sealed with the stroke of a pen rather than left to chance. Baylor, King of the Netherworld, chose who lived and died. Fate and faith had nothing to do with it.

Just once, I would have liked to see a human pull through; that my services as a banshee wouldn't be needed. There hadn't been a mistaken death in over a millennium. Fat chance there would be one anytime soon.

I pressed back against the wall and waited as a nurse rushed past me. Her face looked haggard as she steered the crash cart down the hall. This was the fourth death here in the past two hours. The nursing staff was showing definite signs of weariness. Each of the battles had been long fought. They were fights the doctors never stood a chance of winning.

Several more nurses rushed through the closed door up ahead, working to revive the soul I'd come to collect. The steady high-pitched drone of the heart monitor made my skin prickle with unease. I hated this part. Death rarely ended in a peaceful passing.

Though the medical staff's efforts were noble, they were also wasted. Once I was called in to collect a soul, it was too late for hope.

I glanced at my assignment card as I approached the room at a slow pace. Nora McMillian. Six forty-eight p.m. I had arrived two minutes ahead of schedule.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I checked to see if there were any other banshees within sight. Seeing that I was alone, I slid my hand into the layers of my dress to the leather warrior's attire I wore beneath. There, pressed against my hip, was a hidden sheath.

I withdrew the dagger and held it firmly in my grasp. My blade helped to ground me when I felt on edge, and ever since I crossed through the veil that morning, something felt off. It was against the law for banshees to wield a weapon. I felt that it was an archaic rule, and as such, chose to ignore it on a daily basis.

My cousin, Eivin, was a reaper, a warrior bred to protect banshees. But I wasn't the sort who wanted to wait around for a man to protect me. When Eivin realised I was determined to learn the art of war, he began training me in secret to take care of myself. He risked banishment if we were ever discovered but that didn't stop him. He had always been very protective of me. He knew the truth as well as I did.

Things were not as they seemed.

King Baylor claimed to have sole power to control who lived and who died. But if that were true, how were our soldiers guarding the Wall dying? Was he killing his own men or had a new enemy risen that we were not meant to know about?

Eivin warned me against looking into such things. To speak out against the royals was an act of treason. I couldn't pretend everything was normal. My friends could all smile and play their parts, but that wasn't me. I wanted the truth. I just needed more solid proof of my suspicions. Otherwise, I was nothing more than a conspiracy theorist telling wild tales.

As I waved my blade in the air, it glinted against the halogen lights. It was beautiful, forged from a milky white stone mined deep within the heart of the Hollow Lands; an appropriate name it turned out. The Hollow Lands were a desolate place. A prison for the vilest of human spirits. The Lorcan.

Where they were held captive was a realm of torment created solely for those twisted Lorcan souls. Only in the Hollow Lands was this type of glass-like stone found. My blade was forged from their hell. It was the only thing capable of piercing their grotesque hides.

A chill washed over me at the thought of them as I leaned back against the wall. My mind was still uneasy. There were rumours that the Lorcan grew restless. There were whispers of battles at the great Wall that separated our two realms. Eivin dismissed them although I knew he was just trying to keep me from sticking my nose where it didn't belong. Something wasn't right. I could feel it deep within my soul. There had to be some truth to the whispers and I was determined to find out.

I had already started digging into the king's dirty secrets, but I was far from done. It wasn't like I had a lot of free time. A reaper's day was unpredictable, dangerous, and suspenseful. Mine was boring and the hours felt endless. While Eivin got to lasso a Lorcan or two, I got stuck ferrying smelly old men whose tickers stopped working while watching football at the local pub. It wasn't fair, but no one gave a shite what I thought.

"I should have been born a bloke," I muttered.

I sighed and leaned my head back against the plaster wall. Nothing ever changed. People died. Souls needed help to cross over. I was stuck. I guess in one way that was job security for me. Not that I had a choice in the matter. Banshee for life and all that crap.

"What's takin' so long?" I glanced at the clock again.

Six fifty-two p.m.

"That canna be right." My assignment, Nora McMillian, had been breathing for two minutes too long. Deaths were never late.

Kicking off from the wall, I ducked my head to look at the name printed on the patient's chart hanging outside the door to make sure I was in the right room. In bold print, I read the name Fergus Fahey.

"Fergus Fahey? That's Eivin's soul to collect."

I only remembered that detail because Eivin hounded me before crossing the veil about pre-planning my exit route. He had insisted I take the back stairs to ensure I wouldn't cross paths with his Lorcan. Our assignment cards must have been switched. But why?

"If Eivin is upstairs collecting Nora, that means..." I gripped my dagger and planted my feet. "Bloody hell."

Fergus Fahey had been a horrible man during life. That was why they had sent in a reaper. Souls of the wicked became Lorcan when they passed. That meant that whenever this soul died, I wasn't going to be ready to handle it. Despite what little training Eivin had given me, coming to blows with a newborn Lorcan could kill me.

The hairs on the back of my neck bristled at the doctor's call, "Time of death is—"

A split second after that, a new smell hit me. It was like rancid meat left to bake in a desert sun. It was too late to run.

"Shite!"

The hulking form of the Lorcan burst through the door, taking me off guard. I had no time to react before a set of sharp nails struck the left side of my face. It hit me with such force that I flew across the hallway and into a wall. The impact of my body slamming into it caused the plaster to crack behind me.

My dagger spun across the tile, rendering it out of my reach. My flesh burned along the side of my face where the claw marks were, making my left eye water as it swelled. With my limited vision I saw the Lorcan crouched at my feet. Its eyes were wide and unblinking. The irises became pale as a milky white veil began to fall over them. He stared at me with the raging hunger of a newborn.

Though the creature still bore some humanoid features, its head appeared to be elongating. Its skin thickened and looked splashed with oil as the black spread along its hairless body. I stared in horror as its fingernails and toenails grew into claws. When its bright red tongue snaked out between pointed teeth, it reminded me of a snake. Bits of skin grew over its nostrils until only a flap of skin opened and closed as it sniffed the air.

Suddenly, I wondered if I'd been set up. Maybe I had asked one too many questions to the wrong person? My da had warned that my nosing around would get me into trouble someday. What if I'd poked too close to one of the king's secrets and he'd unleashed this demon on me to silence me for good? Only King Baylor had the power to decide who died and who was reaped. He alone controlled the assignments written for us each day.

And he never made a mistake.

I kicked the Lorcan, connecting my boot with its face. The sound of its shattered cheekbone paired with the popping of several boils on its face. Pus leaked over my sole. Smoke rose from the leather sole as it burned through my shoe like drops of acid.

My breath caught as the Lorcan uncurled its claws and snarled. They looked sharp enough to tear me in half.

"Shite, shite, shite!"

I rolled away and tried to throw myself towards my dagger but came up short when its claws sank deep into my calf. With a strong tug, I was pulled away from the wall.

"Get off me!"

I tried to kick free, but the beast had shredded several inches of my leg. The pain grew so intense I feared I'd pass out.

My head slammed into the floor when the Lorcan tossed me onto my back and raked its claws over my opposite thigh. Its touch burned like frostbitten skin dipped into warm water. The skin didn't melt but withered and died. Nausea rolled through me as the scent of my own charred flesh filled my nose.

"Help!" I screeched.

There was no one to come to my aid. None of my kind were scheduled to this floor, which I should have thought suspicious. I tried to escape the humans milled around us. They were deaf to my cries; none the wiser to my battle. My kind was invisible to them until they died. If they felt anything at all it might be a light breeze, easily explained away as a draft. No one was coming to rescue me.

I was on my own.

A growl rose from the Lorcan's throat as it slashed its claws across my lower abdomen and upper edge of my thigh. I screamed when its nails pierced my leathers and tore through my skin. Tears blurred my vision as I sent a blow to its groin, managing only to bruise my knee on its unforgiving hide. The blasted thing laughed in response. It was a cruel laugh that made me quake with terror.

I'm going to die. This was it. My death would happen right here on this bleach white hallway. It wasn't exactly the way I thought I'd go out.

The Lorcan paused to sniff the air just when a nurse pushed open the door to my right. She maneuvered the narrow turn to roll the deceased Fergus' bed down the hall. I tried to reach my dagger while its attention had shifted to the nurse, but a clawed hand pressed against my chest the moment I moved.

Although I was an easy and more desirable meal, a newly turned Lorcan was drawn to any life force within reach. It didn't matter that the nurse was currently attending to the Lorcan's former body. That life was gone. All that remained was the monster's hunger. It cared little what world the life it sought lived in.

Before I could react, the Lorcan pounced on the woman. The nurse's scream was shrill as it took her to the floor. The hospital bed was sent flying before it careened into the wall. One of the humans was bound to hear her cries.

"Get up, Taryn," I said through gritted teeth.

Pressing my hand to my stomach, I watched in horror as the Lorcan rolled her over. She tried to fight off her invisible attacker, but she proved too weak. Nothing in the human world could fend the Lorcan off. There was nothing I could do for her in my current condition despite her pleas for help.

Soon more humans came to help, but all they saw was a woman writhing in pain on the floor. They didn't see the beast on top of her, dismantling her insides. To them, it only appeared as she was losing her mind. And she had. Her brain would soon shut down and her heart would stop. Another death would come today. Had this one been orchestrated by the king too?

With the Lorcan distracted, I found my footing and leaned against the wall. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. I had to find Eivin. He had to know there was a Lorcan on the loose.

With each step I took, pain lanced through my leg. Darkness edged around my already blurred vision. My left eye burned with tears as the nurse's screams rose and fell. I didn't look back. I couldn't.

"Eivin," I screamed as I leaned heavily against the wall. "Eivin, I need ya!"

The hallway seemed to expand in front of me, becoming a marathon distance to cross. I limped forward, smearing bloody handprints on the wall as I passed. I had to get to the stairwell. I didn't know how I'd make the climb, only that I had to try.

From around the corner I heard hurried footsteps. My left eye was completely swollen shut by now and tears blurred the vision in my right, but I made out a figure dressed all in black. He was hurrying towards me.

"Eivin, thank the gods." The cry caught in my throat as I reached for him. Pushed beyond its limits, my leg gave out on me and I collapsed into his arms.

# CHAPTER TWO

##

## DEVLIN

I'D WALKED DOWN THE same stretch of tile in the cancer wing so often that I didn't even need to look up anymore to know where I was. Two rights, a left, pass the nurses' station, turn right to room 417. My eyes focused on the scuffs on my work boots, so I wouldn't have to make eye contact with the nurses. While they all knew me and my folks by name, they avoided greeting us as well. By now, they had run out of encouraging things to say.

Even though I knew my sister's odds, I couldn't help feeling anxious as I walked towards Alana's room. I was still holding out hope that today would be the day the doctors discovered some miracle cure.

My fingers fidgeted with the edge of my jacket as I walked. The leather was thinning along the cuffs where I'd rubbed my thumbs against it so many times. The canary yellow scarf Alana made me two birthdays ago was wound tight around my neck. The wool itched, but I didn't loosen it. It served as a constant reminder of the pain she was likely in. I was sure her first attempt at knitting looked foolish against the rest of my all black attire, but she had made it, and I clung to that.

The scarf reminded me of her. Bright and cheery. So full of possibility.

That colour defined Alana. Hopeful. In that way the black defined me. I felt like nothing these days. I mean, what did I do besides fix broken cars and throw clay around for the masses to gawk at? I didn't even hit the gym as much as I used to, though time with the clay kept my muscles defined. My days felt wasted while we waited on news of Alana. That damn yellow scarf forced some of her positivity on me.

She couldn't die. Twenty-one was just too damn young.

Since discovering her heart cancer three years ago, I'd had to go through my own round of tests. Because we're twins, and her type of cancer being so rare, I had to be screened. They had no idea if it was a genetic mutation or fate dealing her a piss-poor hand. My blood work had come back normal; an unpleasant fact that I had to grapple with daily. It wasn't fair. She was the one worth saving. Not me. She had spark and spunk, a thirst for life.

No. Not had, has. She wasn't dead yet.

I let out a breath and picked up my pace. There was no point sulking. There wasn't time for that. Every day counted now. Every hour. Every minute.

As I walked, I pulled out my mobile and texted Seamus. Even though we barely spoke now, I still kept him up to date on her condition. It was foolish. He never responded, but the texts made me feel better. It felt like a way to remove some of the pressure off my chest. Seamus had become my unwitting journal recipient.

I had just hit send when I felt something, or rather someone, crash into me. My mobile fell to the floor as my head whipped upwards. A girl stood in front of me, covered from head to toe in blood, yet her eyes held a look of relief before they rolled back into her head. She started to sway just as my arms reached out to catch her before she could fall.

Her body was like a dead weight against my chest as I held her upright.

"Mate, are you alright?" I asked already knowing the answer. She was covered in blood. Lots of it. Her body lay limp in my arms.

"I need a doctor!" I shouted as I eased her onto the ground. Her body was limp, and her skin was cold. My heart began to beat faster, wondering if she had already died. It wouldn't be surprising considering the state she was in. But how did she get like this? I looked around for help, or for some madman on the loose who might be attacking people, but there was no one to be seen. I cursed. It wasn't a very travelled stretch of hallway as it passed by the morgue. It was part of the reason I used this route. The less people I saw the better. Bad luck for this poor woman.

I knelt down beside the girl, trying to see if there was anything I could do. I had no medical experience, but I felt like I had to try. My fingers found her neck and checked for a pulse. If there was one, it was faint. Lowering my head to see if her chest was still rising and falling, I noticed that this girl was roughly my age. She had blond hair that was now soaked with blood.

I'd never seen anything like the marks on her. It was as though she'd lost a fight with a bear. There were literal claw marks on her body. Blood was seeping out of deep gashes along her legs. An angry series of black and bloodied markings covered the left side of her face. The cuts appeared to have missed her eye by a fraction of an inch but exposed the skeletal bone beneath. It was all I could do not to hurl.

What the hell happened to her?

Thinking fast, I took my belt off and used it as a tourniquet around her thigh, trying to stop the bleeding from where it seemed to be gushing the worst. I had no idea what I was doing. Every movie I had ever seen did something like this, so I could only pray it might help until someone with more knowledge than me came along. When I touched the darkened blood on her thigh I felt a sudden jolt of heat. Almost like a burn. I pulled my hand back and wiped the black sludge off on my jeans. It must be some kind of poison? That didn't make any sense, though. Then again, neither did a woman who looked like she'd been attacked by a wild animal.

Being careful not to touch the black stuff again, I tied off the belt. I couldn't help but notice the clothes she wore. She had on a silver dress that was now cut to shreds and covered in blood, but underneath the dress, she seemed to be wearing leather pants...or what used to be leather pants. It was hard to tell where the leather ended and the open flesh began. Was she wearing a costume? I was so confused.

Whoever she was, she was going to die if I didn't get her some help.

"I need a nurse or a doctor. Someone!" I shouted. "This woman has been hurt!"

Far down the hall, an older man with an IV poked his head out. He was dressed in a hospital gown and had oxygen tubing under his nose.

"Oh, thank God. I need a doctor. Can you press your call button?"

The old man looked over at me, then down at where my hands were. He gave me an odd look then quickly shuffled back into his room, closing the door behind him.

"Hey. Wait! I need help."

Frustrated, I looked back down at the girl. She was so peaceful, even as broken and bloodied as she was. That was when I heard her cough.

"Jesus!" I yelled, sitting back on my legs.

One of her eyes opened. A gorgeous blue eye searched mine. It was a colour I'd never seen in another person. It was like a tropical sea. Both green and blue at the same time. The colour was mesmerizing.

"Eivin?" she gasped.

"Eivin? No. I'm not Eivin. Is he here? Where can I find him?"

She was so pale. I knew she didn't have much strength in her.

"Lorcan...still alive."

"What? Yes, you're still alive." For how much longer, I had no idea. "Look, let me go for help."

She reached out her hand and grasped my own harder than I would have imagined she'd have the strength for in her condition.

"No. Get Eivin," she gasped.

I looked up, trying to find who she was referring to, but the hallway was still deserted.

Her eyes blinked several times in rapid succession as she fought to stay awake.

"He needs to know—the king lied...not safe. None of us...safe." Blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth and her eyes closed.

That could not be good.

I was going to have to find a physician on my own. Scrambling to my feet, I broke out into a run down the hall to find help. Luckily, I knew right where to find some.

"Shelia!" I shouted as I practically crashed into the head nurse who tended to Alana's wing.

"What's the problem, Mr. Gallagher? Is it Alana?" Sheila asked. She was a no-nonsense kind of woman. Exactly the sort of person I needed.

"Oh, thank God it's you, Sheila. No. It's not my sister, but I was on my way to visit her when...there was this girl."

Sheila raised a hand to stop me.

"Yes. I know. She's been tended to."

I gave her a blank look. "She has?"

"No need to worry. Nurse Childs will be right as rain." She turned away, dismissing me, and began chatting to the nurse beside her. "I told you she was pulling too many overnighters. They had to sedate her. Took four of us to hold her down." She shook her head as she opened a patient chart. "She just kept screaming."

I knew who Nurse Childs was. She was one of Alana's night nurses.

"No. It's not her!" I shouted, regaining her attention. "There's a girl...she—she's covered in blood. I think she might die. She's in the hall near the morgue."

I was sure I must have looked insane after what I had witnessed because she raised one hesitant eyebrow.

"I promise I'm not sleep-deprived again," I assured her. Well, I was, but not so much so that I didn't know what I'd seen.

Sheila didn't look convinced.

Not that I blamed her. When Alana was first diagnosed, I had a hard time sleeping. I had to use sleeping pills to stay sane. Back then she probably thought I had a bad dose or something. This was different.

"Please," I begged. "She's going to die!"

Sheila let out a short sigh then tugged on the sleeve of the nurse's scrub that was standing beside her. "Frank, come with me."

Frank closed the chart he was reviewing and followed after her with only a slight eye-roll.

"She's right over here," I said, running as they semi-jogged behind me. I was sweating like a pig when I turned the corner to where I'd left her.

"Right where?" Frank asked, coming to a halt.

I froze wide-eyed as I surveyed the hall. The girl was gone. I spun around in all directions, wondering if I'd gotten the wrong corridor. No. Impossible. The blood was still on the floor and along the wall where it looked like she'd dragged herself down the hall.

"She was right here!" I shouted. That was when I noticed a thin trail of blood drops leading down the hall towards the emergency exit. "The thing that attacked her...it must have taken her—"

Sheila and Frank exchanged a glance.

"Taken who, Mr. Gallagher?" Sheila's voice was kind, yet condescending. The sort of tone you hear nurses use with their dementia patients.

"Don't you see it?" I asked, pointing towards the door. "The blood! It leads to a fire exit. Why would anyone bring a person who is clearly dying to a fire exit instead of to a doctor?" I could hear myself shouting, but I couldn't understand why they weren't doing something.

"Mr. Gallagher, I'm sorry, but I don't see any blood," Sheila said gently.

Frank sighed and left to go back to his station.

"What do you mean? It's right here!" I knelt down and pointed at the mess in front of me. "And, Jesus, look at me! I'm covered in it too!" I gestured to where she had fallen into my arms. I looked a fright but not as horrific as she did.

Her eyes followed to where I was indicating before she gave me a stiff smile. "You've been under a lot of strain lately..."

"No," I rebutted, shaking my head. "No, I'm not crazy. I know what I saw. The girl said she needed to find Eivin. She said something about the king lying..." I paused, hearing exactly how insane I sounded. Ireland was a parliament run government. We didn't have any kings. So what had she meant?

"You look a little pale," Sheila said. "Have you eaten today?" The tone in her voice confirmed she thought I'd lost it.

Had I? No. There was a girl. She was blond. She had sea-blue eyes and...she was dying. Right here. Right where we were standing! So where the hell was she now?

"You really can't see any blood? Not even here on the wall?" I asked. My voice had gone soft. I reached down and felt the pool at my feet; it was warm and wet on my skin. It covered my hands.

She blinked down at my hand then looked up and gave me a worried smile. "I'm sorry. I don't see anything. Why don't I get you some water?"

I stared back down at the blood on my hands before I sank onto the floor. "I'm fine. I'm just...I guess I am tired."

Sheila nodded in such a way that conveyed her worry. "Are your parents here with you?"

"Yeah," I said absently. "They're in the cafeteria. They'll be up in a minute." I looked up at the nurse as I tried to regain my composure. "Sorry I bothered you."

"It's alright. The mind can play some pretty nasty tricks on us when we don't take care of it. You need to eat and drink and, for heaven's sake, try to get some rest," Sheila said.

"Thanks. I'll do that."

She gave me a kind nod, but I could tell she was annoyed I'd wasted her time. I watched as Sheila walked back to her station. I was hoping that when she disappeared, the blood on the floor beside me would too, but it didn't. It stayed there, ever-expanding as though trying to reach out and pull me into it.

Swallowing hard, I stood up and took one last look at where the girl had been. Apparently, I needed more sleep. I was hallucinating. That was all. Probably some harmless way for my brain to deal with the horrific reality of my sister's situation.

My nostrils flared. I was pissed at myself. I had to get my head in the game. This girl...her gnarly gashes...it wasn't real. My sister's cancer was, as was the little time she had left on this earth. I couldn't afford to spend one more minute stuck in delusions. Alana needed me. I had to get my act together for her.

I turned away from the blood and reminded myself to not look back. Stay in the present, Devlin. Stay sane. This is not the time to go bat-shit crazy.

# CHAPTER THREE

## DEVLIN

I CURSED AS THE timing belt slipped out of my fingers and off the sprocket for the third time in a row.

"That belt still giving you trouble, lad?" Da asked, coming up behind me. His grease riddled fingers gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. I shrugged out of the gesture and wiped my hands on a rag dangling from my back pocket.

"I've got it. My hands were too slick, is all." I stuck my head back under the hood of the 1990 Volvo, determined to get this belt on so I could clock out. I was still having a hard time focusing after what I thought I'd seen last week at the hospital. I had come to terms with the fact that my mind had made the whole thing up. What I couldn't wrap my head around was the fact that the blood was still on the clothes I had worn. There was a literal hole in the jeans I'd had on that night. Right where I had wiped the black goo. How was that possible? And even worse? There was still blood on the walls at the hospital, days later.

The mess she had left behind on the floor had been mopped up, though traces of it lingered against the baseboards after a mop. The blood on the wall where I'd imagined she had dragged herself was just as visible now as it was a few days ago. It didn't make any sense even from a crazy person's rationale. It was maddening that I could see the blood and no one else could. It was hard to convince myself that I wasn't losing it and it gave me a short fuse.

As if to prove my point, the belt slipped again and I cursed; a fouler phrase used this time.

"Son," Da said from the car beside me. "Why don't you leave that one to me? Take your lunch early..."

I closed my eyes, annoyed. He'd been treating me with kid gloves like this all week. The nurses ratted me out about what I'd claimed to have seen and ever since, he and Ma had tiptoed around me like I'd gone nutters. The thing was, I wasn't entirely sure that I hadn't.

"Fine," I said, pushing past my da. I could tell from the look on his face that he was frustrated by my outburst, though he didn't call me on it. He sympathised with the anger. I wasn't the only one having a hard time with Alana's diagnosis. Still, I knew I was being an arse lately, but I couldn't seem to get out of my funk. Maybe Da was right. I needed some air.

I stalked out of the shop and into the office. Unzipping my coveralls, I made my way over to my locker. I pressed my head against the chipped blue paint for a moment. The cool metal against my forehead felt good, so I held it there a moment longer.

Once my anger subsided, I stared down at my name on my locker. Gone was the piece of masking tape that used to temporarily mark my name. In its place was an etched brass name plate, anchoring me to my role as a mechanic. I shoved my overalls into my locker and slammed it shut.

This was never supposed to be my life. This was supposed to be temporary. Working at Da's garage seemed like the ideal situation. A mindless summer job until I left for university on my art scholarship. I was good with my hands as a sculptor, so fixing cars was meant to be an easy way to earn some quick cash before going overseas to find my fame and fortune in the art world. What had started as a fun sculpting hobby when I was a wee lad had morphed itself into a viable passion. A passion that had potential for serious income once I honed my craft in America. My whole life was waiting to happen.

Everything changed with Alana's diagnosis when she was only eighteen. For the last three years we'd had to hear doctors tell us that they didn't know how to help her. Hers was a cancer so rare that there wasn't even enough data on how to treat it, let alone give her any odds for survival. As far as they were concerned, it was a death sentence.

In all the time that had passed we'd been praying for a miracle. My once vibrant, free-spirited twin sister deteriorated before our eyes in those years. Aggressive chemo and radiation were used to try and combat the unknown killer. The cancer remained unfazed, but my sister had not. Her 'treatment' had made her violently ill, robbed her of hair and what little body fat she had managed to cling to. That was last spring. Now she was little more than a vegetable. Tubes kept her fed while the morphine left her numb. She could no longer move or communicate. She was helpless and I hated it.

Clinging to hope, we made our trips to the hospital as our schedule allowed. I made a point to see her a few times a week. It was a two-hour drive away, but I got to see her more than my ma and da, who both had full-time jobs to hold down. I know it pained them not to go more often, but they were grateful that she had someone with her. Fat help I had proven to be. Nothing we tried was making a damn bit of difference.

Outside of the garage, I hunched my shoulders into my coat to fight off the crisp air of Moneyglass. I wrapped Alana's scarf tightly around my neck and started the ten-minute walk home. Sure, I could have eaten in the shop like the others did, but today I needed a bit of release. I planned on spending a few minutes in my studio. Sculpting was the one thing holding my sanity in place these days.

When I made it home, I popped inside to see if Ma was back from her morning shift at the bakery. I was hoping she would have brought home some day old batch bread. My stomach was rumbling and there wasn't anything like a thick slice of that with some of her homemade butter.

The door was open, so I knew she was home. Her flour covered apron hung off one of the chairs in the kitchen.

"Ma?"

The sound of soft sniffles came from Alana's room.

"I'm in here," she replied.

I walked in and found Ma sitting on Alana's bed, with a smattering of photographs Alana had taken in better times. She had an eye for pictures. Capturing people in just the right light.

"Aye. I see that," I said cautiously. She was already upset recalling the memories around her. I didn't want to make it worse by chiding her to put them away.

She patted the spot beside her and I sat down.

"Do you remember when she took this?" She handed me a photo of Da and I marching in the local parade.

"I was such a wee lad then," I said, smiling at the shot.

"You loved riding on his shoulders like that." She smiled. "Alana wanted to capture all of the moments around her," Ma said, looking at the cluster of photos. "She'll probably be cross I haven't taken a single photo of her sick." She glanced up at me. Her eyes were glassy from tears. "I didn't want her to remember it."

I nodded, though I wasn't sure my sister was likely to forget it. Should she make it back home.

"Oh, I remember this one," I said, trying to change the subject from her grief. It was a shot of me, Seamus, and Alana. She was wedged in the middle of us. One arm draped over Seamus' arm, the other outstretched to snag the photo.

Ma took the picture from me to examine it. "Where was this?"

"That's at the falls."

She smiled. "Oh, yes. The lot of ya loved to spend your days catching your death in those icy waters."

"It wasn't that cold."

"Tell that to the blue lips you're sportin'," she said, nodding towards Alana's lips.

I took the photo back and sighed.

"There was no telling her to get out either. Just as there was no telling Seamus not to get that lame tattoo."

"Seamus has a tattoo?" She gasped.

I laughed. "Yeah. But don't tell his da. He'd flip."

Ma's face grew stern. "Don't you be doing something so foolish now, you hear?"

I raised my hands up in defense. "Not to worry. I have no desire to be marked."

"You home for lunch?" Ma said, picking up the scattered photos.

I helped her gather them and put them back in the decorative box Alana kept them in.

"Maybe a quick bite, but I wanna pop into the studio for a bit. I need to release some of the stress."

Ma nodded. She understood that about me. I was visceral. I needed the physical release. It was why I boxed too. Hitting things helped to centre me. I'd been hitting the bag a lot more these days. Ma preferred I spend my time constructively; hitting the clay instead. It probably didn't hurt that I made good money on the commissions. Money I'd been saving to go to university. So much for that.

"I brought home some bread. Fancy a slice?" Ma asked, closing the box.

"You read my mind." I grinned.

She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before we headed out to the kitchen.

"Oh, speaking of minds, did you hear about Ms. Daly?" Ma asked as she pulled the loaf onto the table.

"The lady who works at the library?"

I pulled out a seat and sat down.

Ma nodded with her eyes wide. "She's gone mental."

She loved spreading gossip. It gave her such a kick. After what she'd been through the last three years, if talking about what the locals did took her mind off her own struggles, who was I to judge. "They found her screaming in her closet. She couldn't talk. She just kept pointing and screaming, saying that something was after her. Papers say they had to sedate her to get her into hospital."

The hairs on my neck rose up. Ms. Daly's experience, though different than the girl I'd seen, was no less chilling. What had the librarian seen? Could it have been the same thing that attacked that girl?

There was no girl, Devlin. It was just your mind playing tricks on you.

I pushed out from the table.

"Creepy," I said. "Look, I think I may skip the bread. I need to get into the studio for a few before I have to get back."

She tried to get me to stay longer, but I couldn't keep thinking about what I'd seen. Or thought I had seen. I needed to focus on what was real. Clay was real. It was grounding.

Ma pursed her lips into a tight line. "You hide in that studio, you know?"

"So?" I said as I approached the door.

"You don't need to do that, luv. You're allowed to move on. You're allowed to have a life."

I stood there for a moment, surprised at her comment.

"No, I'm not," was all I said before I left the house.

If Alana couldn't have a social life, then I wasn't going to either. It was actually a lot easier to retreat from life than I thought. Because we were twins, we had many of the same connections. They all stopped calling or visiting a few months after her diagnosis. It was as though they were afraid they'd catch her cancer. In the end, they all had futures to plan for. Husbands to marry. Our former mates had little time to spend on a dying one. Even Seamus, well, he retreated too. It was almost as though the two of us didn't work as mates without Alana as the glue.

Nothing seemed to work without Alana. My life felt like it was on perpetual pause.

Ma's voice found me as I was heading towards the studio at the back of our land.

"I'll bring something out for you to eat, then."

I didn't look back. "Don't bother," I yelled. "I'm not hungry."

Before I opened the studio door, I hauled my fist back and punched the door. The sting resonated into my knuckles then down my arm and echoed off the hills around me. I clenched my jaw, absorbing the pain. The gesture had become my ritual before I sculpted. I tended to forget the world when my fingers buried themselves into the clay, including my dying sister. If she was in pain, I needed to be too. Fortunately, I'd become quite skilled about how hard I could hit the door without fracturing or breaking the fingers I needed to sculpt with. Just a dull throb. That was all I needed.

I ditched my jacket on a stool and washed the grease off my hands before I cut off a fresh hunk of earth. The soft mud felt cool against my fingertips, healing almost. I sighed as I sank down onto my stool to work. On the shelves that lined the walls were all the projects I'd begun working on before Alana got sick. Back when I had a future in sculpting. The pieces I had spent months working on sat in wait high on a shelf. Covered in dust, all fired and ready to be shipped off to galleries or auctions. The boxes were ready. I only needed to pack them. I couldn't seem to bring myself to let them go. I clung onto them as tightly as I clung to a cure for Alana.

"What a waste." I sighed, looking down at my hands. "These were designed to sculpt, not tear apart engines." I pounded the blob of clay with my fist to warm it as much as to release the tension.

I worked for about twenty minutes, molding something new. It felt good not to work on filling an order, but rather, let the clay do what it wanted. It was only when I noticed the shape of my creation that my anger quelled. My subconscious had sculpted a heart-shaped vase. Perfect and unflawed. Not like my sister's. My fists closed around it, collapsing it into itself in an instant.

"Damn it!" I yelled, hurtling the blob of clay across the room, hating its reminder of her cancer.

"Devlin!"

I turned around and saw Ma standing there with a tray of food for me. Her eyes were wide with shock at my outburst.

"I told you I wasn't hungry." I wasn't mad at her for not listening to my request. I was mad at myself. She'd seen me lose my cool. Again. I stood up and walked over to her, taking the tray.

"I'm sorry, Ma."

She smiled up at me and ran her hand against my wild, red waves. She was always trying to get my hair to lie flat. It wouldn't matter how hard she fussed.

"I know, luv," she said, kissing the top of my head.

I let out a breath as I set the beef stew and a generous slice of bread and butter down. I went to the sink in the corner of my studio and washed the clay out from under my nails.

"I miss her too, you know," she said.

I looked up and saw tears in her eyes and I hated that I'd put them there.

"Eat up before it gets cold."

"Aye." I nodded.

She paused in the doorway. "We'll get through this, Devlin."

I wasn't sure if she was saying it to assure me or herself.

# CHAPTER FOUR

## TARYN

I SHOULDN'T BE ALIVE. A part of me wished I wasn't.

One week had passed since the Lorcan attack. After Eivin arrived too late to save that nurse. I survived only because I left her behind.

The humans wouldn't know how to help her. Even if I could find a way to bring her to my realm, her mind was already too far gone. Not even our Healers would be able to repair the damage done to her.

I failed her and that was something I would have to live with. I just hadn't figured out how to do that yet.

While life went on as usual for those who lived in my city, my entire world changed that day. I might have been alive, but I was far from living.

Though the Healers worked a miracle with my injuries, preventing the poison from reaching my heart, some scars would never heal. The Lorcan's claws left patches of blackened flesh that would never regrow. At present they were hideous. Whatever hopes Ma had held out for finding me a suitor were gone now. That was something at least.

For the first two days after the Healers left, I cowered in the corner of my room like an animal licking its wounds. I ignored the food Ma left outside my locked door. I even refused to see my da, which broke my heart. He was the only one, except for Eivin, who even came close to understanding me.

I just couldn't face that look in his eyes. The one that said 'I told you so' as a reminder that he'd warned me about the dangers. Da said I lived, so I should be proud of having survived a Lorcan attack. Instead, I felt only guilt.

I wasn't a hero. I wasn't someone worthy of the whispered rumours I could hear in the streets below my home as people passed. The beast chose the nurse over me because I knew she was the easier target. I ran when I should have stayed and fought. Some warrior I was.

After a week haunted by my demons, an effect driven by the detox of the Lorcan poison, I gained a new understanding. Men didn't get bogged down with emotion and self-doubt. They had a job to do and they did it. It was easy for them to think of their work as a means to an end. Eivin wouldn't have failed if he'd been there instead. He was a good man, noble and strong. Even if he'd been weaponless, he would have never left an innocent behind.

Even in my darkest moments trapped within a haze of fear brought on by the Lorcan poisoning, I never lost my will to fight. Male or female would not matter if those beasts came to kill my people. Yeah, I was a girl, but I'd be damned if I let that stop me. I would find a way to shove my emotion and self-doubt aside.

I also never lost my suspicions that I'd been set up. In the long hours of the night, I thought a great deal about the man I met at the hospital. The reaper I couldn't place. I knew most of the reapers from school. The others, those older than me, I knew from the ferry rides. The man at the hospital, I couldn't recall seeing before.

He had to be from another part of our realm. He was likely a new recruit called up to replace those soldiers in our village who had been sent off to fight on the Wall. Although Eivin would never admit it, I knew I was right. King Baylor was shuffling his soldiers around to cause confusion. To make it easier for people to be too distracted to ask questions.

However, I was not like most people. I was not fooled by this new reaper's handsome face. He had to be there for a reason. Could he have been a spy stationed on that hospital ward by the king? Baylor would want proof of my death and the man had certainly seemed shocked to find me hobbling up the hallway. Not to mention he seemed in no hurry to stop the Lorcan threat.

I thought of what little I'd been able to see of him through my blurred vision. When I thought of him, all I remembered was his untamed shock of red hair and wide, expressive green eyes. They had been filled with fear and confusion. Fear that I was still alive and now he'd have to be the one to kill me, no doubt. Why did the bad ones always have to look so damn good?

"Fit or not, he played me for a fool," I whispered to the night.

Leaning my head against the window, I breathed in the cool mist and closed my eyes. Somewhere out there was the man who had the answers I needed. I vowed I'd find him once the effects of the poison were finally out of my system. I'd make him talk...even if that meant learning a thing or two about torture.

Although the hour was late, I couldn't sleep. Unanswered questions swirled in the dark recesses of my mind. My family all expected me to talk about the attack so I could move on, but I had no intention of doing so. The less they knew the better. I couldn't risk their safety, so pretending to have temporary amnesia was the easiest thing. Eivin suspected that I was faking. He knew me too well. But he was smart enough not to call me out on it.

Therapy wasn't going to help me either. Action would.

I knew my parents grew restless with my refusal to talk about what had happened to me. The rumours about the attack became ugly as well wishes turned to accusations. Some claimed I was an attention seeker who played out a cruel hoax, carving my own face for effect. Others said I'd switched assignment cards to provoke the attack. Still, others seemed to think it was a wild tale about a barmaid who shared a resemblance to me from the pub just down the road.

None knew the truth, nor would they be willing to listen even if I did speak out.

Sooner or later I was going to have to emerge from my room and face the consequences of my actions. In the minds of the public, I had somehow provoked the attack. I waited each day for a royal guard to arrive at my doorstep to take me for questioning but perhaps word of my amnesia had spread from the Healers.

Eivin had helped me change out of my leathers before we arrived at the ferry so I could remain undetected. He hid my blade among his own weapons to conceal my breach of the law. There was no physical evidence of my having done so.

I knew Eivin would never rat me out. I had zero faith in Ma, though. If threatened with the safety of the rest of my family, she would cave under the council's questioning in a heartbeat and spill everything she knew, which was why I said nothing.

And if I did tell the truth, no one would believe my side of the story. A corrupt king set me up? Right. That would play well.

My people loved and praised King Baylor. They fawned over his beautiful wife. And the girls my age would give their right arm for a chance to be bedded by their handsome son, Prince Aed. If he ever returned from fighting along the Wall.

The villagers chose beauty, wealth, and prestige over the truth. All they had to do was open their eyes and they would notice the groups of reapers suddenly being called to the Wall from all over the Netherworld. Was it really so hard for people to put together the pieces of evidence staring right at them? Men were dying and the king was behind it somehow.

The king's version of safety was a mirage. I refused to accept his lies and that placed a large target on my back. I was sure of it.

Standing in direct opposition to the crown would only lead me to one path: banishment. I never meant for my actions to hurt my family, but sometimes standing up for what you believe in came with sacrifices. Sure, my ma drove me crazy with her never-ending matchmaking attempts and love of gossip. My younger twin sisters, Iona's and Kyna's whining was almost enough to make me volunteer for banishment, but they were still family. Besides, who would keep Da sane if I were gone?

Eivin came each day to check on me when he returned from his reaper duties in the human realm. I never let him in, though. I feared seeing his disappointment. Worse, I feared seeing condemnation for being a coward.

From down the hall I could hear him speaking with my parents. Their voices were muffled, but I knew they were talking about me. They were worried. Not nearly as much as I was.

While they spoke about my health and the fragile state of my mind, I thought only about the fate of my people. A storm was coming and it was going to blow through my city of Eimear with such a force of death and destruction. There was no one to warn them. No one to wake them up before it was too late.

If I was someday banished, would Eivin take my place? Would he stand on the streets and yell out the truth? So far he had been a silent supporter. After my attack, I feared he'd change his mind entirely.

The Lorcan were getting stronger. I could feel it. Like somehow my wounds had forged a bond with them. The monster that attacked me had done so without a hint of fear of retaliation. It was hungry, that much I sensed, but there was something more—an awareness.

I'd often wondered if the beasts could speak to each other. Their grunts meant nothing to us, but to a fellow Lorcan, it might mean everything. Or perhaps they had a telepathic communication. Whatever it was, I could sense trouble brewing.

I never used to be afraid of the dark. Now, I knew what lurked in the shadows. The beasts were no longer just hungry. I could sense they wanted revenge on those who kept them imprisoned. They were born into an instant hatred of my kind.

If they ever breached the Wall, they would raze this city to the ground.

"How is she holdin' up?"

The words broke through my thoughts and I turned at the sound of Eivin's voice. He was closer to my room now. I hopped down from the window ledge and pressed my ear against the wooden door to listen.

"She's refusing to eat or let us through the door. I'd hoped she would see ya when you turned up," Da said and I strained to hear.

I knew the burden my attack had placed on my father. He felt responsible. Eivin had insisted that Da not only knew of our training session but that he gave his permission. My cousin always was the more level-headed between us. I hadn't stopped to wonder at Da's blessing, but I realised now that I should have.

That small detail would have made it clear that Da knew more than he was letting on. He knew something was not right in our realm. Why else would he risk his daughter learning to fight?

He never talked about his time spent fighting Lorcan at the Wall. I always respected that his time there held memories he didn't want to wade through, but it was hard not to ask. I didn't even know how he'd injured his leg.

Ma would wrap me around the side of the head for being rude anytime I'd bring it up to her, so I learned early on to let that mystery lie. Knowing that Eivin's training saved my life didn't make it any easier. Da was a good man, but I feared he sometimes lacked proper vision now. I guess that was easier to do when you were a parent trying to protect those you loved.

"She's fit as a fiddle," I barely heard Da say. "Her brain suffered no damage from the claw marks. The poison will be fully purged in a day's time. Why do ya think it attacked her like that?"

I inched closer to hear Eivin's response.

"Lorcan hunt under the cover of night when they're harder for us to see. They've never attacked a banshee out in the open before," Eivin said.

Hunt? My brow furrowed. A reaper's sole duty was to contain the Lorcan the moment they crossed over. How could one get free to hunt? Were there other rogue Lorcan out there we didn't know about?

"These are not things we should be talkin' about out here," Da said. "Come with me, lad."

Footsteps moved closer to my door and farther from the prying ears of Ma.

"Do you think the rumours are true then?" Eivin asked. His voice was much louder now.

"Ya heard the king's speech earlier today. Any woman caught carrying a dagger will be tossed in a cell," Da said in a hushed tone. "The king is trying to use Taryn as an example of what happens when girls get crazy ideas in their heads."

"He doesn't know that she was armed. I hid the evidence and Taryn says she canna remember a thing," Eivin whispered. "This wasn't an accident. We both know it."

"Aye. That I do. But I don't want you jumpin' to conclusions just to protect her. Or filling my daughter's head with truths she's too fragile to handle right now."

"I'm not jumpin' at anything. My gut tells me something's wrong."

I held my breath as Eivin spoke again. "Before she passed out, Taryn said she thought the king was behind it all."

"If he was, he'll see to it that she is ruined long before she remembers enough to tell her side of the story."

My knees buckled and I reached out to catch myself on the doorframe. Not even my da was confident that I was set up. That hurt, far deeper than I wanted to admit.

"We have to keep her from mucking things up further. To publicly stand against the king is suicide. Let's hope that her memory doesn't return."

"I won't let that happen." Eivin's voice was firm.

I felt sick to my stomach. They were standing outside my room, deciding my fate for me. And no one bothered to ask me what the bloody hell I could live with.

"You brought her home to us. I'm grateful. Your da would be mighty proud of you if he were here."

There was a moment of silence.

"I should have seen the trap..."

"No, lad." Da's voice took on a strict, no-nonsense tone. "You are a hero for getting to her in time for the Healers to work their magic. The rest will sort itself out."

"I had the proof in my hand and tossed it away like a bloody plonker." There was a slight shudder in the thin wall when someone leaned against it.

"Taryn was wounded. No one blames you for leaving your assignment cards behind."

"If she were to get chucked over the Wall someday for it, I'll have plenty of blame on my shoulders."

Da's voice softened. "The past is the past, Eivin. Right now, my little girl needs you."

There was a pause of silence and I got the distinct feeling that both men had stopped to stare at my locked door. I backed away.

"I don't know what to say to her to help." Eivin sighed.

"She needs a friend, lad. Be that for her."

"Do ya think the Lorcan will come for her?" my cousin asked.

I clenched my fists against my bandaged thigh. I should have known this nightmare was only beginning. I wasn't safe in my own home.

"It's not the Lorcan we need to be worryin' about. She canna know the truth about why she's being targeted."

"Aye," Eivin said. "That would only fuel her hate."

A ripple of unease worked its way through my stomach. They knew I was right all along. Not only did they know, they lied to me.

Anger simmer in my belly as I backed away from the door. My da, the bravest man I'd ever known, advised caution and restraint when action was needed. He knew what was at stake and yet he did nothing.

I couldn't imagine that Eivin would go along with this. He was a warrior, just like me. But when I heard Eivin's agreement I knew I was alone in my fight against the king.

"Try and talk to her," Da said. "Be the voice of reason to guide her down the right path."

The right path be damned. The only path for me was the one no one wanted me on.

# CHAPTER FIVE

## TARYN

I COUNTED MY FATHER'S footsteps as he withdrew and waited for my cousin's knock. When he hesitated outside my door, I chose to speak first.

"I know you're there."

"I haven't even knocked yet."

"You didn't have to. You tromp around here like a giant in high heels. Only the deaf would've missed ya standing there."

His laugh was small and painfully unnatural. The door creaked when he leaned against it. When I heard him trailing his finger around the door latch, I closed my eyes, feeling the sting of his betrayal.

"Everyone is worried about ya."

"Tell 'em I'm fine."

"Are ya?"

I knew I wasn't, especially not after hearing their hushed conversation a moment before.

"I will be."

"Come on. Let me in, Ryn."

The sadness in his tone pulled at me, as did the nickname he gave me after he turned eight. He always said Taryn was too formal. I liked Ryn better anyway.

Eivin and I had been inseparable since childhood. Closer than my best friend, Tris, whose daily presence outside my door had become more annoying than comforting. I knew she meant well, but she didn't get it, didn't get me. At least not anymore.

"Fine, but only you can enter." I flipped the lock and stepped back out of the way.

The door groaned when it opened and shut behind him. The drone of voices beyond the threshold faded. He looked around the room, peering into the darkness to find me.

"I'm over here," I whispered.

He turned and found me sitting once more in the window. Staring out at the city I so desperately loved and yet longed to be free of.

I could tell by the droop of his shoulders when he approached that I looked worse than I thought. After that first night Da removed my mirror from my room. That was when I knew I looked repulsive.

"The Healers did what they could." I shrugged.

"You look a hell of a lot better than when I last saw ya." He came to stand behind me. "The swelling is already going down."

The light of the moon cast the black scarred ridges of my face in shadow when I turned to look at him. I wasn't ashamed of my wounds, not like Ma was. They were a part of me now.

He grasped my chin and turned my face this way and that in the moonlight. Instead of horror or recoil, I saw guilt in his gaze.

"It wasn't your fault." I gently pushed his hand away. "You took down the Lorcan for me. I can live with a couple of scars."

Eivin frowned. "I knew you were lyin' about your memory loss."

"It's better this way. Keeps all of my family safe."

"Safe? People are already slagging you off about what happened and it's going to get worse. You canna pretend forever."

I pressed my shoulders back. "It's not much different than before. No one believed me then. If I start telling the whole of Netherworld about what really happened, I'll be called a lunatic."

"You're marked now, Ryn. That's no small thing."

"So are you." I stared at the scarring on his own arm before leaping down from my seat.

The muscles in my thighs still twinged a bit. I couldn't complain about the lingering pains considering how extensive the repair had been. At least I could walk again.

Herbs from the River Lands were part of the initial healing.

Strong magic was used as the Healers wove their mystical words around me. It was all a blur as my muscles and flesh knit back together. No amount of healing could undo the eternal black touch of a Lorcan, however. Those were permanent.

For a reaper, the scars were a badge of honour. It meant you got close enough to a Lorcan and lived to tell the tale. For a woman to bear the marks was a sign of shame. Come tomorrow, when I stepped foot outside for the first time, I would most likely be a pariah among the other banshees. The girl who was too nosy for her own good finally got her comeuppance.

"This is different, Ryn."

I waited for him to say it, to expand on what Da had said in the hallway, but instead, he fell silent. My heart dropped.

"I heard what ya said." I sank down onto the edge of the bed.

The bed dipped when he sat beside me. "What are ya talkin' about?"

In all the years we'd spent together, Eivin and I had never had to speak aloud to understand each other. I guess that was part of growing up with someone. That bond of kinship was irreplaceable. Eivin was a good man, honourable, loyal to a fault and brave. He was also stubborn and pig-headed, just like me.

Drawing his hand up to my cheek, he didn't shy away from my scars as he waited for me to speak. With him, I could be weak. With him, I could be myself. There were no masks or watching what I said for fear of offending anyone. I was wholly me.

"Tell me." He wiped a small tear away that fell from my closed eyes, but I knew he misinterpreted it.

"It wasn't ya not bein' there during the attack that let me down, Eivin." I lifted my eyes to meet his and he flinched when he saw my tears. I never let myself cry. "It was when ya agreed to lie to me for my da about what's really going on. How could you do that?"

Eivin inhaled and then released his breath before he spoke.

"Some things are best not known. I canna lose you."

"And ya thought by lying that you wouldn't?" I whispered.

"I don't..." He shook his head. "I don't know what I was thinkin'. You aren't the easiest person to keep up with, ya know? Every time I turned around you were running into danger. I guess I did what I did because I was scared."

"You should have trusted me." I wiped at my nose with the back of my hand. "I'm stronger than my da thinks. I can handle whatever truth you may know."

"Aye. Maybe you can, but I'm not willing to risk it. I love ya too much." Lying back on my bed, he patted his chest. "Come here then."

I hesitated for a moment before I sank down and curled up into his side, as I had done so many times while growing up. I needed him to hold me. To cling to him.

"I never meant to hurt ya, Ryn. I swear it," he whispered against my hair. "You're the only decent thing in my life. Finding ya like that in the hospital was brutal. I knew you'd finally pushed the king too far and my heart stopped."

"I know." I closed my eyes, feeling the fresh sting of tears building. I was afraid if they fell, I would never stop. "I really thought that was the end."

Eivin held my close. "I won't let anything hurt you. I promise."

And I knew he'd try to keep that promise for as long as he could.

"There's more that you don't know." I kept my voice low as I began to tell Eivin about the mystery reaper. I knew by the look on his face that he was just as in the dark as I was.

"This just proves my point, Ryn. Your da means well and so do I. We're just trying to protect ya."

"You canna stop it," I whispered.

"Aye." Eivin's chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh. "I know that as well."

"If ya know then don't do what he asked. Please don't push me away. I survived that attack because of your training. Ya canna stop teaching me now, not when I need it more than ever. Help me," I pleaded, opening my eyes and lifting my head to look at him. "Don't let him sway you with his foolish heart."

"He's got a right to fear for your safety, Ryn."

"Aye, but I have to keep goin'. It's not in me to keep quiet."

He shifted up onto one elbow and looked down at me. "This is bigger than the both of us. Mark my words. Going against the royals is suicide. You'll get us both banished before you're done."

"What choice do we have? The king lied to us about being safe. This isn't the first attack and ya know it won't be the last. You canna turn away now when it could mean the death of our friends? Our family? How could we live with ourselves if we could have stopped it?"

At that, he shifted with discomfort.

"Husbands, brothers, and sons are not returning from the Wall," I whispered. "They die without honour because their service is to a corrupt king. Think of your da. He deserves to rest in peace as well."

Eivin's jaw clenched. He never spoke about losing his da. It was usually a wound I gave a wide berth.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought him up." I laced my fingers through his and squeezed. "But we remain. What happens to us when the Wall falls?"

"You don't know that it will."

"Aye, I do."

Eivin blinked. "What are you talkin' about?"

I lifted our hands to press against my scars. "You can feel them, can't ya? You are marked too. You feel their rage. I've seen it in your eyes when they pass. You know they're getting stronger. They're changin'."

He looked away. "You shouldn't be talkin' about that."

"The truth is the only thing we should be talkin' about."

He gently pulled his hand away from mine. "It's too dangerous."

"Aye. The right thing usually is."

He turned to look at me. There was a great depth of sadness in his eyes.

"I can't stand by and watch the people I love die, Eivin," I pleaded with him. I knew I could go through anything as long as he was by my side. "When that Wall is breached, and it's only a matter of time, we will be buggered. There aren't enough reapers to save our realm. And what of the humans? Who will keep them safe when we are wiped out? Chaos will reign."

"And what would ya have me do? Shout from the rooftops like a nutter that the king canna be trusted? I would lose all I've gained in the guard. I'll lose my credibility."

I sighed and scooted closer to him. "When everything you love is gone, what good will that be to ya?"

"Blast you, Ryn," he groaned and carved his hands through his hair. "It changes nothin'. We are two people without power or influence. We canna win this."

I inched closer until our knees touched, feeling a surge of passion from deep within me.

"It's not about winning, cousin. People respect you," I praised. "They will listen to what you say. And with these," I motioned to my scars. "People will listen to me too."

Eivin winced. "That's not funny."

"I'm not tryin' to be." I rubbed my hands along my arms to smooth the gooseflesh risen there. "I need to know the truth, Eivin. The whole truth."

"And if I tell ya? What will ya do then?"

"What I always do. I'll warn people of the dangers."

"Aye." He hung his head. "I thought you might be sayin' that."

For a moment he remained silent. I held my breath, knowing this was his chance to side with me. To be the man I knew him to be, the backbone I'd always loved and relied on. He lifted his head and stared up at the ceiling.

"You were right," he whispered. "I can feel 'em. Have been for a long time."

I tucked myself into his side and waited for him to continue.

"The newborns are not what we need to be fearin'." His eyes looked haunted, his face grim and ashen as he looked down at me. I realised with a start that he was terrified. "There are others, a new breed born at the Wall, more fearsome than any you've glimpsed. They work together, they communicate, and they attack without mercy."

"How do ya know this?" I whispered.

Eivin looked beyond me. "I just do."

I placed a hand on his chest. "I need to know more than that."

He nodded and then lowered his head. "Prince Aed has called for reinforcements."

I sucked in a breath. "I knew it."

He shot me a woeful smile. "You were always too smart."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

When he laughed, it sounded almost brittle. As if he might break right there before my eyes. And for the first time, I thought he just might. I'd never seen him look so hopeless.

"It's also a warning. Last week you were spouting off about the reapers missing from the training grounds. Two days after, you had a Lorcan knocking on your bloody door." He wraps his arms tightly around me. "You need to think before you get yourself killed."

"I have no intention of dying." I offered him a woeful smile. "I just need to be a bit sneakier. That's all."

"We canna fight the royals and the council."

I pushed off his chest. "We can, if we do it together. You and me, just like old times."

He sighed. "I'm not gonna be changin' your mind, am I?"

"Nope." I grinned.

"Aye. I was afraid of that." The planes of his face grew hard when he set me back from him. "Just tell me one thing. Why are ya so hell-bent on riskin' your life for people who spit at ya behind your back? They had my da flogged for all to see after they falsely accused him of being a traitor. They sent him over the Wall without giving him a fair trial. These people aren't worth it."

I fell still. So that was it. His reason for not wanting to help me wasn't out of fear. He was bitter about his da and I couldn't blame him one bit. I didn't know all the details and I might never know, but Eivin's pain was as fresh as the day they dragged his da through the town centre in chains.

I placed a hand over his heart. "You are a good man, Eivin. You care when you should not, forgive when I would not, and risk your life every day for this city. I know you're hurtin' and that they wronged your da, but we both know there are good people here. They deserve a fightin' chance."

"So you will risk banishment for 'em?"

I smiled as I clenched my hand into a fist against his heart. "To see you safe. To make sure those monsters are locked back in their cage? Aye. I would. I'd risk it all for my family."

By the look in Eivin's eyes, he knew I meant it.

# CHAPTER SIX

## DEVLIN

BLOODSHOT EYES GREETED ME in the mirror as I splashed cold water on my unshaven face. Judging from the constant shifting of mattresses that echoed in our bedrooms during the night, none of us got much sleep thanks to the late night call from the doctor. He had called around ten to report that he had some news for us. News he wanted to deliver in person. Ma and Da were hopeful. I was skeptical. I wanted to believe they had discovered a way to make her better, but the realist in me knew there was only one way this story ended; in her death.

I waited for Ma to get ready, pacing downstairs in the parlor. As I walked, I looked at all the portraits of our quaint little family; the pictures of Alana and me dressed in matching jumpers, our First Communion where we both gagged on the body of Christ, and in the middle, the quintessential family portrait. I walked over and picked up that frame. I remember that one vividly. It was taken shortly after Seamus' ma died. The photo held all of our perfect plastic smiles in place. It was as though our own folks were trying to capture as many memories as they could before they were gone. None of us had ever dreamt that Alana might be the first to vacate our family photos.

Pressing the frame to my chest, I said a silent prayer before I put it back in place, taking extra care to make sure the frame was straight.

None of us spoke during the drive to the cancer unit, except for the occasional comment on the weather. It was as though we were all too afraid to speak. Eventually, it was just the gentle hum of the windscreen wipers as they pushed the heavy mist aside.

Once we'd parked at the hospital, we all sat there for a bit. No one seemed to want to move because once we did, we'd know if the doctor's news was good or bad.

Dr. Kendall was waiting for us when we got to Alana's room. He'd been here every day, even on his days off. Her case fascinated him. No doubt he was gathering up notes about her progress to write in some medical journal.

Ma wasted no time asking the question that had been burning in her mind. "Have you found something to help my baby girl?" Ma gripped the hospital sheets with her hand. We both looked up at his steel blue eyes, daring to hope.

Dr. Kendall sighed. "I'm not sure, but there might be an option to consider."

He pulled a chair over and sank into it. He rested thin arms along his thighs. His hands pressed to his mouth as though contemplating how to deliver the news.

"I've been talking with some colleagues of mine about your daughter's case. We've discussed with you, of course, the risks of doing chemotherapy with her heart already being as weak as it is. And the radiation alone doesn't seem to be helping her."

I glanced over my shoulder and looked at my sister, who was wearing a purple and green knit cap. It was the only thing keeping her bald scalp warm.

"As you are well aware, the information we have on your daughter's type of cancer is limited at best. There just aren't enough people with it to know what might work. The best we can offer is an educated guess." He glanced at my parents as though to make sure they were paying attention. "After much debate, we think there is an option. It would be risky, but we're hoping we can treat her cancer the same way we would treat cancer in another organ. Like a cancer of the stomach or liver, for instance," he explained.

"Okay," Da said. The single word dragged out across our stunned silence.

Dr. Kendall seemed to sense our lack of understanding, so he shifted gears a bit to catch us up to speed.

"In extreme cases of cancers that affect organs, chemo is given directly to the organ itself. This bypasses the conventional ways of using the blood stream to do the heavy lifting. It's my medical opinion that this is a method we should try with your daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Gallagher. Alana is far too weak to have any of her healthy cells attacked again."

"So what are you saying?" I asked.

"We would give her a dose of chemo directly into the affected organ."

The doctor's words sounded calm, normal, despite the insanity of what he proposed.

"And how would you do that?" Ma asked. Her eyes were wide with fear.

Dr. Kendall gave her a gentle smile. "We'd inject it with a syringe."

My head began to spin with the realisation of his plan. "You want to stab her heart with a needle?"

The physician flinched at my crudeness. "It's a bit more complex than that, but yes. Essentially."

Ma gasped beside me while Da was at a loss for words.

"Would it work?" I asked. As horrible as it sounded, if it would help...

"That's what we don't know." Dr. Kendall sighed. "We've had good results with this sort of procedure when cancer invades other major organs. We're hopeful that this treatment will respond as it has with other patients with other cancers."

Ma grasped Da's hands and tears began to well as I saw the flash of hope spread across their faces. Could this be the miracle we had all been waiting for?

"I need to stress to you that there is no guarantee," Dr. Kendall said, bringing us all back to reality. "I can't even give you the odds because we just don't know. It's only been done a handful of times on stomachs and livers with mixed results and never on a heart." His eyes were tired and bloodshot, like the rest of us.

"It sounds so dangerous," Da whispered after a moment.

The physician nodded. "It will be. I won't sugarcoat it. If it doesn't work, she'll go into cardiac arrest within a few hours."

The hope on Ma's face turned to worry.

Dr. Kendall leaned forward. "I need you all to understand this is a long shot at best. It's the only option I see right now for your daughter. Other than keeping her comfortable until her heart gives out, which it will. It could be a month, a week...it could be tomorrow. We just don't know."

"But if it worked? Would she be okay?" I asked.

He gave us a sympathetic look. "We don't know that either. There is no telling how her recovery might play out. We can't know how the strain on her heart during these last three years has affected her. There are too many unknowns. The procedure may stop the cancer growth, but she may never fully recover. She might be as unchanged as she is now...We just don't know."

He stood up, his lean figure casting an ominous shadow over Alana. "I'll give you time to think about it as a family. If we want to try this, we need to do it sooner, versus later. Before the cancer has a chance to grow any further. I can get her into the operating room this afternoon."

"Today?" I heard Ma gasp.

The physician nodded. "I'll give you a minute."

The sound of the door closing sent a chill across the room. For several moments, none of us spoke.

"We have to do it," I said, breaking the silence. "It's the only choice we have. We have to let them try."

"But—" Ma started.

"If they don't, she's gone anyway." My voice cracked and tears stung my eyes. How could they not see that this was the only option we had? There was a chance that their daughter might recover. Why were they not jumping at the opportunity?

"But if it fails...she could die. We could be sending her to her death before her time!" Ma's eyes were wild with emotion. "What if she gets better on her own? The research your da and I have been doing says that the radiation she's on now may work over time—"

"She doesn't have time, Ma! You heard the doc. She's out of options."

Da pulled Ma into his arms as she sobbed into his shoulder. I felt his hand take mine. Our eyes locked as we tried to figure out what the best plan was.

"What do you think Alana would want us to do, son?"

I didn't answer right away. She would have wanted us to pull the plug on her a long time ago. She never wanted to be a vegetable. She'd seen what Seamus had gone through with his ma's sudden stroke then medically induced coma. He had to watch for months as she wilted away. She told me then that she would never want to live like that. She'd made me pinky promise that if she was ever that bad off, to let her go.

For three years I could have told Ma and Da about her wishes. But I didn't. I was selfish. I wanted my sister back.

"She'd want us to try and save her," I lied.

A heavy weight landed in my gut, but I pushed it away. Alana would thank me one day; when she was healthy and laughing again. I would be her hero. That was all I wanted. To see her smile again. What was the harm in that?

"Okay then. Let's put it in God's hands. We've been praying for a miracle. Maybe this is it," Da said, looking down at Ma.

She was still conflicted, but she nodded her consent through her tears.

I let out a breath and texted Seamus. While our texted conversations were always superficial these days, there was a time when the three of us were best mates. Things felt dire. I needed him to know that Alana's life lay in the balance. I needed someone else to pray for her, too.

# CHAPTER SEVEN

## AED

BLACK BLOOD TRAILED DOWN the leather gauntlets strapped to my arm. They saved me from burning that flesh, but other parts of my body were not so lucky. With a grunt, I shoved the wounded Lorcan off the end of my dagger. Its cries echoed as it fell end-over-end, taking out two Lorcan still climbing the Wall. They landed with a series of dull thuds far below.

It had been a clean jab straight to the heart, but I knew it would not be enough to kill the beast. Once it regained consciousness, it would be back. They always came back.

"What is our status?" I yelled to be heard over the clash of glass blades against thick scales.

Screams died off around me as I peered through the smoke. It burned my eyes and made it hard to breathe, but the discomfort was worth it. Lorcan hated fire almost as much as they hated the cool mists of Netherworld.

"The breach on the south side is contained," a voice called through the haze. I recognized it as my second-in-command, Reilly.

"And what of the north?" I wiped the blood from my gauntlets with a filthy rag tucked into the back of my armor. It was already stained with gobs of the foul Lorcan sludge, the poison charring the cloth and curling the edges.

I looked up when an answer didn't come. "Has anyone heard from Pearse?"

"No one's 'eard nothin'," another voice called back.

Reilly appeared off to my left. He was covered in angry red welts, dotted with Lorcan blood. His beard and long hair were matted in filth, making the whites of his eyes seem to glow in the darkness.

He was alive and that was better than I could say for many of my men. A hulking shadowy figure climbed over the top of the wall just then behind Reilly.

"On the ground!" With a skilled throw, I aimed my blade for the Lorcan's open mouth. When it disintegrated into a pile of dust on top of Reilly's shoulders, my friend grimaced.

"Why do you always wait till the last second to save my arse?" He brushed the ash off his leather armor. Clumps remained stuck to the blood splatters.

"Most people would be grateful to be saved at all. Yet somehow you still manage to find something to moan about." I laughed and retrieved my dagger from the disintegrated Lorcan remains. "Send Donal to check on Pearse. By the gods, I hope their side still holds. If not..."

I let that sentiment fall off. I didn't need to tell Reilly what was at risk if we failed to hold the Wall. Countless innocents would die horrible, agonizing deaths. And with each kill the Lorcan seemed to evolve, growing stronger and more intelligent.

The ones we just vanquished were able to communicate with each other, grunting in varying tones as they hit the wall at its weakest points. They were problem solving...a thing I had believed only to be a rumour among the men before. They were trying to find weaknesses in the Wall. I would have to rethink our battle strategy to ensure this breach did not happen again.

"And what of the reinforcements, my prince?" Reilly asked.

I glanced over my shoulder back towards the lush lands of Netherworld. Several leagues south was my home, my family, and my people. They were the ones I risked my life for each day. I needed more men to protect them, but none had arrived yet. I didn't know how much longer I could keep pushing my soldiers like this. They were already fighting on twelve-hour shifts until they were too weary to hold a sword any longer.

"They will come. My father is aware of our plight."

Even as I said the words I felt a hollow sickness nestle into my chest. My father had been silent for far too long, ignoring my letters detailing the dire need for aid. Had I not made it clear how near we were to ruin? Did he not believe me?

He must. After all, it was he who stationed me to this post when I was barely a man. Perhaps stationed wasn't even the right word. It felt more like a banishment.

In the years since, I had often wondered what I'd done to deserve this post. After a while, I decided it had to be a test and I threw myself into proving I was competent to lead his army. I had done my duty and would continue to do so no matter the odds. But my father's silence told me he was still not pleased with my efforts.

I watched as Reilly headed towards the Northern Gatehouse where I could just make out the peak of its roof in the distance. It would take Reilly three-quarters of an hour to reach this point. I feared what he might find beyond that.

"Cashel, see that the men are fed and their wounds tended to before you turn in. I will remain on watch."

"Those bloody beasts could attack again. I'm not too keen on taking a kip with you out 'ere on your own." Cashel rubbed the filth from his own arms in a bucket of murky water.

"What choice do we have? We sleep when we can so that we can fight on. Take your turn now. I'll have mine later."

Both of us were bone weary and eager to slide into our beds, but the wounded were too many. The count of the dead had yet to be tallied.

Gripping the ledge of the stone wall, I peered over into the darkness. Far below, a few fires still burned where oil and tar had set a strong perimeter not four hours earlier. Now it was all but demolished, either from the smothering of dead bodies or scuffling as the Lorcan tried to breach the gap.

Those needed to be relit as soon as possible.

The fires were only a temporary fix. Flames wouldn't hold the Lorcan at bay forever. They would find a way around. I needed to think of a new tactic to avoid the next wave. My only hope was that the wounded Lorcan would need time to regroup as well.

Staring out across the barren wasteland before me, I found myself torn between hating this desolate place and admiring its beauty. The parched ground and twisted trees were nothing more than lifeless shells. The heat was suffocating in the lands that lay beyond the winding path that separated this side of the Wall from the vibrant life behind. The difference between these lands was as stark as night from the day; a literal hell meant only for damned souls.

I never understood my father's insistence on keeping the beasts alive. They were a threat to all who lived in the Netherworld. A threat that could have been dealt with when the Lorcan numbers were fewer. My mother once told me there was a time before my father's rule where Lorcan did not exist. It was a time of peace and balance. Regaining that balance would be worth any sacrifice...no matter the cost.

But I learned long ago never to show a lack of faith in my father. He had a plan, even if I, his son and only remaining heir to the throne, wasn't privy to it. One thing was clear. King Baylor did not like to be questioned, especially by his own flesh and blood.

Being out on the Wall meant I had to make the hard calls between life and death. Sometimes that meant tossing my father's decrees right over that damn Wall too. I fought hard. I lost more men than I cared to count. I watched people suffer all around me. The worst part was knowing that when the Wall fell, no one in Eimear would know of the dangers heading their way. All because of my father's lies.

I couldn't stomach them any longer.

The danger was growing. With each passing day, fear rotted my bones and made me weak in the knee. The Lorcan boasted a new awareness that unsettled me. They had a leader for the first time. I could sense it in the way they moved, congregated, and swarmed.

When torchlight appeared along the rim of the wall, signaling that the scouts were in place for the evening hours, that should have relaxed me, but it didn't. I knew all too well how quickly we could be overtaken. I used my own flint and steel to spark a torch, setting it in place between the cracks of stone near my post.

The night was eerily silent as the hours passed. I grew anxious, forcing myself to remain standing instead of slumping in the corner. When my eyes grew heavy and my grip on my sword grew lax, I pressed the toxic Lorcan blood-soaked cloth to my arm. Just long enough for the poisonous burn to rouse me once more.

I no longer cared what my body looked like. What was once a thing that many a fair lass vied to see, had become battle hardened. My arms and legs had more burns than skin with new scars showing up with every Lorcan I took down. The leather armor I wore covered the marred flesh, but it was not for vanity that I wore it. The thick hide allowed me to continue the fight.

What once drove me to distraction had become a luxury I could no longer afford. My womanizing days were behind me. This endless war had forever changed the lust hungry adolescent I once was.

Brushing the drying flecks of blood from my long, black hair, I pushed the matted strands back out of my face. The stubble grown along my chin would become a beard soon if I didn't tend to my own needs. There had been little time over the past three days of near constant barrages to eat, let alone shave.

Not long before dawn, I heard hoof beats and turned to see a rider approaching from the south. The man was barely able to remain seated on the horse. His weariness slumped him over his steed, no doubt ordered to ride straight through. That did not bode well for the state of his journey.

"Cashel!" I called loud enough to be heard from the rooms below. "Open the gates and see to that rider's needs immediately. Then bring me news from my father!"

Only King Baylor dispatched riders from Eimear. A dark foreboding hung around me. I turned back to face Hollow Earth as the groan of the chains that held the door closed echoed around me. I had expected no less than fifty battle-ready men a week ago. Instead, I got a letter. What use was a piece of paper to me when the Wall was ready to fall?

As the first drops of colour took to the sky, I waited to accept the letter that Cashel held. It was stamped with Baylor's crimson wax seal, set apart from my own with a crown atop the insignia.

"Did the rider say anything to you?"

Cashel shook his head, winded from his fast climb from the base of the Wall.

"Nothin'. He was weak and in need of food and drink. I stowed him in the room besides your own, in case ya need to speak with 'im."

I gritted my teeth and clutched the letter. Every part of me wanted to tear it open and read its contents right then and there, but my men's welfare came first. Whatever my father had to say would not make my current situation any better today.

"Any news from Reilly on the status of the northern wall?" I asked.

"No, Prince Aed. We haven't heard a thing."

I glanced once more at the northern gatehouse. There were no signs of smoke in that direction, which meant something had happened to prevent those men from lighting their signal flares. Fear began to replace my concern.

"Send another man immediately, but tell him to approach with caution. I fear the worst."

"Aye. The sun is coming. You need to rest."

Cashel was a good and loyal soldier. One who I had called a friend for several years now. I knew that his concern, though touching, was not based solely on my personal health and safety. I was their leader and if I were to fall, so would the last line of defense.

Clapping the man on his shoulder, I nodded. "There will be little rest for me once I read whatever it is that my father has sent, I fear. The king isn't one for sending praise. I will remain within yelling distance should you need me."

With the king's letter clutched tightly in hand, I descended one floor to my chambers. It was the only place I'd be free to tear into the letter. Before I did, I felt honour-bound to look in on the wounded in the healing room down the hall.

The floor there was slick with blood belonging to my brave soldiers. There were no Healers on the Wall for these men. They tended to each other's wounds as best as they could.

"You have all fought with honour," I called out.

Several heads rose to look at me. Others attempted to stand as a show of respect, but I motioned for them to remain where they were.

"Another night has come and gone and yet we still live," I said, trying to comfort them. "The gods look down on us with favor. Rest now. The Wall remains secure for another dawn."

The strained cheer that rose from my men tore at my heart. None of them volunteered for this post. Most abandoned their homes and families by royal decree, bound by their oaths when they became reapers. Though they didn't come of free will, each man knew that without their sacrifice their loved ones would fall if they failed.

Feeling my own exhaustion weighing on me, I moved down the hall. I braced myself with one hand on the cold stone as I headed for my chambers.

When I first arrived years ago, I insisted I take the room nearest to the tower. What good would I be to my men if I buried myself deep in the heart of this stone monstrosity?

The door to my room creaked when I pushed it open. Inside held a chill that only stone mined from my homeland could provide against the blistering heat of Hollow Earth.

Lighting a candle, I carried it to my bedside table and sank down onto the soft goose feather mattress. I released a low moan as I felt the aches and pains from the previous night. Easing out of the layers of my armor, I lay across my bed, too bone-weary to care that I was soiling the sheets. Sleep called to me, but rest would have to wait.

Under the light of the candle, I broke the wax seal and unrolled the thick parchment.

My son,

Much has happened since you departed for the Wall. Rumours of your many conquests have reached me. You have proven to be a man of honour, bravery, and skill in battle. But there is more to being a king than being a good soldier. A king must sacrifice for his people in all ways.

I rubbed at my eyes as I tried to push down my annoyance. My father always did have a way with twisting compliments into veiled criticism.

As you know, this war has taxed our sources greatly. We need more weapons, more men, and more medicines. And your family needs you to ensure that our reign continues. If you wish to serve your people as their future king and keep them safe, then you will return home at my bidding. An advantageous marriage to a daughter of one of our realm's Lords will solidify our claim on the throne, as well as supply your needs for this ongoing war.

My anger drove back all thoughts of sleep as I surged to my feet and began to pace. The parchment shook as I read further.

As a soldier, I understand that leaving your post before the mission is complete is a difficult thing, but I am not asking, Aed.

"Who the bloody hell does he think he is, trying to command me like that? I'm not some commoner he can snap his fingers and expect them to leap to attention. I am Prince of the Hallowed Realms and commander of this fort. How can he expect me to marry some woman when my men lie dying at my feet?"

My hands shook as I forced myself to continue.

I am your king, and you will obey me in this. Failure to do so will come with grave consequences. The men you have requested for the Wall will not march until I receive word that you are in agreement with my terms.

You have one day to decide. After that, I will come for you myself and drag you home.

Baylor, High King of the Realms.

I grabbed my dagger and hurled it across the room. It sank into the wooden door with an appealing thud, but it was not satisfying enough.

"He can't ask this of me now, not when our hold on the Wall is so precarious."

Grabbing a chair, I slammed it overhead into the solid wood bed frame. The resounding crack of splintering wood was good, but I needed to break something else. Throwing the door open to seek Cashel's counsel, I stopped short when I found the rider waiting on the other side of my door.

"Yes?" I snapped.

"I would 'ave knocked sooner, but I saw your dagger in the door and thought ya might be needing a moment."

"And what if that dagger was a sign that I had been ambushed and by your lingering outside my room, I was bested?"

The man blanched. "Rumour has it that no man could best ya, sire."

I huffed as I yanked my blade free and pushed past the man. "False sentiments anger me on a good day and as you can tell, this is not one. Speak your business and leave."

The messenger's royal clothes were still dusty from the road. The fact that he had yet to change or seek a bed after his journey told me that my father had no intention of giving me a full day to think about my options. I should have known.

"You can tell my father that my place is here at the Wall," I called over my shoulder. The man was bound to follow me until he had an answer.

"Aye. The king thought you might say that."

I stopped and turned back. The man stood only a few feet behind but looked to be eager to keep his distance just in case I decided to hurtle my dagger at a new target.

"Your king insists."

"Let him insist then! Hell, let him drag himself out of his bloody castle and come see what a state his defenses are in. Perhaps then he will set aside this craziness and see that I am right to refuse him."

The rider fidgeted with the ruffle around his neck. "So that's your answer, then?"

"Yes."

I turned and began to mount the stairs but stopped just before reaching the top step.

"Tell him I refuse to leave my post because we are barely maintaining our hold. Tell him that without me the Wall will fall. And tell him that if he forces my hand, those deaths will be on his head, not mine. I am not a child he can order around at his whim."

"Prince Aed!"

I swung around at the call and flew up the last step and out onto the ramparts. The smoke was thinner now and the sun shone bright against the blood-smeared stones that formed the Wall.

"What, news from the North?" I asked.

Cashel panted, doubled over as he struggled to catch his breath. I rushed forward with a ladleful of water and waited impatiently for the man to collect himself.

"Lost." Cashel gasped. "Donal and Pearse...dead. Their men are gone. Reilly was too late. A group of Lorcan has breached the Wall."

"Gods help us all." I rushed to the far side and peered out into the rising mists.

There lay several smaller villages between the Wall and Eimear. Those would be where the Lorcan would head first. The scent of those living there was too strong a pull to resist for the hungry monsters.

"Your order?" Cashel raised himself to attention.

He looked dead on his feet, just like I was. What little strength gained through the long night's calm was not nearly enough for the battle ahead.

I turned and motioned for the rider to approach. "You swear that my father will send reinforcements if I agree?"

The man nodded. "They wait on his command."

Gritting my teeth, I sheathed my blade and began tugging my gauntlets back into place.

"It looks like my father will get his way after all." I glared at the messenger. "Ride like you have a Lorcan chasing at your back because you will if you delay. Tell my father I am in agreement. He must send those men immediately to seal the breach."

I turned away from the rider, dismissing him and then clapped Cashel on the back. "Assemble the men. Grab weapons and supplies. The journey will be hard and fast. Only grab those who can manage the pace. All others must come to their posts and hold this line until the reinforcements arrive. We leave in an hour."

He looked between me and the messenger, who hurried into the depths of the Wall. "What did the king ask ya for now?"

"Nothing good, my old friend." I shoved two more blades into the sheaths hung across my back. "You know my father. He never requests anything. He only demands."

# CHAPTER EIGHT

## TARYN

A HAND WAVED IN front of my face. "Hello? Earth to Taryn?"

I blinked, jolted back from my daydream. Quickly making sure that my hood was still covering my face, I glanced around to see if I had been noticed. My best friend, Tris, had just caught me thinking about that new reaper again.

He'd been in my thoughts for days. That gnawing ache of frustration had worked me into a frenzy. I had to find him. I had to know the truth. Was he really a part of the king's plot to see me dead?

My search to find him came up short as I walked through town this morning. There was no sign of his red hair or vivid green eyes amongst a palette of browns, blacks, and blonds. His colouring could indicate that he was from another province. Maybe one of the River Lands.

"You alright over there?" Tris' look of concern forced my wandering thoughts to focus.

As much as I loved her, I was not going to chat about my theories with her. She had an insatiable need to romanticize everything. I'd bet she could even find a way to make the coming Lorcan war seem dreamy. I couldn't stomach that.

"Aye. Just a wee bit tired, is all." I rubbed my forehead and saw the look she gave me.

"You are bloody well not 'fine.' You're doing this whole creepy, sleeping-while-sitting-up thing," she chided. "Your ma warned me this might happen. Said your brain was all wonky still." Tris swayed on the seat beside me as the boat dipped to the side. More banshees and reapers had arrived to board the ferry.

"I'm not mental, Tris." I laughed. "Ma was just overreacting again."

We shifted closer to the edge to make room for the new arrivals. It was my first day back to work after the attack and I'd be lying if I said I felt ready to be there. It all just felt so pointless considering at any moment the Wall could be breached and we'd be up a creek with a broken paddle.

"Ya don't look so well, Taryn. If ya asked nicely, Eivin could get ya another week off duty."

"No." I drew the hood of my cloak farther over my head. "I need to get back to work. Give me something to focus on."

Tris gave me a sympathetic look. "It must have been scary."

"Aye," I admitted. "And right painful too. I'm fine, though."

"You keep saying so, but that don't make it true."

I didn't like it when Tris spoke like my ma. Probably a bad influence that rubbed off on her during the numerous hours she'd spent at my home as of late. I knew she meant well, but every time we were together, it became glaringly obvious just how far apart we had grown. I loved her, but she wasn't like me.

Hell, no one was.

I turned away from her to hide my sweeping gaze over the people lined up to board the boat. None of them had the green eyes I was looking for. The reaper wasn't on this ferry.

My shoulders slumped and I clasped my hands in my lap. I was ready for the day to be over before it even had a chance to begin. Just as the boat rocked and we pushed off from shore, I caught the eye of a nosy girl in the row ahead. The instant our eyes connected, she gasped and looked forward again.

I sighed.

"Did Ma ask ya to keep an eye on me?"

Though I'd been freed to return to work, my parents still fretted over my health. I'd been poked and prodded enough to last me a lifetime. I might have hated being a banshee, but it sure as hell was better than sticking around my house.

"She don't mean nothin' by it, Taryn. She wants what's best for you."

I laughed. "You mean for her. She's been trying to shove me out the door and into any guy's arms who would take me."

"Well, ya are of age now." Tris grinned and leaned in closer. "If you ask me, all these rumours may have actually given you a leg up in that respect."

"How do ya figure that?"

"Well"—Tris tugged at the sleeves of her cloak—"you're famous now, right? Some of it might not be overly kind, but your name is getting around. People take notice, don't they? I bet some swanky bloke would love to have you for his own."

"Right. 'Cause that's my life's ambition. You know I'm a terrible cook. Could ya really see me as a ma?"

Tris snorted. "Perhaps not. I'm just saying that it's an opportunity. Negative attention is still attention."

I stared out at the spectral mist hovering over the brackish water and struggled to shove down my frustration. The boat's passage was silent as we left the shores of Netherworld. No ripples disturbed the water's surface as the wooden longboat glided across the murky depths of the Durrow River.

As a child, I once asked my father how the veil between our realm and the human world worked. Travel to any country in mere minutes was difficult for me to grasp until I stepped foot onto this boat for the first time. Enchanted scrolling symbols carved into the sides of the boat glowed as whispers rose around us. Though the ferryman, Darragh, wove an ancient magic over the ship, I think the glow was just an illusion.

The mists rose up around us, concealing land from sight. The ferryman at the helm was blind, but he didn't need eyes to see the path through the vast cavern before us. Two gaping black holes remained where Darragh's eyes once resided. Rumours said he offended the king in his youth. Besting him in a challenge, Darragh's victory called the king's honour into question. The next day the man emerged without his eyes. I once thought that to be a ridiculous accusation. Now I knew firsthand how cruel the king could be to those who threatened him.

Darragh's horrid appearance didn't end with the plucking of his eyes. His mouth was translucent and fused shut with wax. His lanky frame was draped in a thick cloak of drab gray. Bony fingers gripped the aged wooden rudder, guiding us down a path he had travelled countless times before. The magic did the steering. He was merely a vessel, banished to servitude for all time.

I hugged myself and waited for the familiar fear to rise up within, clenching my throat till the point I was sure I'd pass out. A panic attack was what humans labeled them as. Weakness was what I called it, especially after my attack. I had to remain on alert. I had to stay focused and not let something stupid like fear get to me, but I hated every damn veil crossing I made. It just felt...unnatural.

As we approached the veil, the panic didn't come and I smiled. My will was getting stronger. I could feel it.

"Here we go again." Tris gripped the edge of the boat as it rocked, hitting the first of the rapids. We were passing through the veil.

I craned my neck back to watch the sharp descent of the waterfall ahead then closed my eyes. I hated the drop most. My body braced and my stomach clenched at the tugging sensation around my abdomen. It was followed immediately by an intense pressure in my head. Like I was being squeezed through a hole too small to fit, only to pop out on the other side, whole and unharmed.

"I'm sorry I didn't see you when you came to visit," I whispered, needing a distraction from the nausea that lingered from the rocking boat. I missed dry land.

Tris looked annoyingly unfazed by the crossing as she turned to look at me. "Is that an actual apology that I'm hearing?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. You didn't have to come so often, so I'm grateful to ya. I just...I wasn't ready, ya know? Needing to get my head wrapped around it all."

With a small squeal, Tris threw her arm around me and hugged tight. "Of course I came. What sort of friend would I be if I didn't?"

Though Tris and I hadn't always seen eye to eye, and we didn't exactly have a ton in common these days, I missed her. I never had many friends. Most of that was because I had a knack for pushing people away. It kept me from getting hurt. But Tris had this irritating but utterly delightful way about her that refused to be pushed aside. Even when I was moody and standoffish, she hung by my side. I had to give her major props for that.

For the first time I wished I could tell her about the reaper who consumed my thoughts. Maybe she'd have an insight I hadn't thought of yet.

But when I started to speak, the boat tipped suddenly to the side to miss an oncoming ferry. My hands wrung together in my lap as I peered through the mists. There were Lorcan on that boat. I could feel them. Their anger was potent from where they stood chained within an upright cage. Reapers stood guard, shoulder to shoulder so that I couldn't quite make out the hulking shapes.

The ferry was returning much later than it should have been.

Concealed within the layers of my dress was my dagger. I stole it back from Eivin this morning. Da would be furious with me if he knew I'd defied him, but he should have known that I would. There was no way in hell I was going back to the human realm without some protection.

Never before had there been a need for a female reaper, but times were changing. Soon enough the sex of a person wouldn't matter. A blade would.

Tris would be among the first to fall without someone to protect her. Her nature was too delicate. As were my sisters. Just the thought of it made my temper rise. We had just as much a reason to fight as the men. Damn King Baylor and his archaic rules.

I looked around me, focusing on the backs of heads instead of the narrowing of the passage ahead. Forty-two people rode the boat each morning. Come evening, the hold below would be filled with the newly departed crossing over into the Netherworld. Half of those on the boat each morning were reapers, half were banshees. We tended to not mingle together. The biggest reason for that was the giggling that came from the row of banshees seated nearest the reapers.

I peered around the girl's head in front of me and frowned. "There are several reapers missing."

"So?" Tris shrugged and smoothed out her dress.

"It's always been one or two." I craned my neck to count. "It's not like we get holidays."

Tris pushed back her hood, wincing at the frigid spray as she looked ahead of us. Six seats were vacant. She didn't seem concerned until she noticed that two reapers in particular were missing.

"Wait, where are Riordan and Cillian?" Tris asked.

"Aye. Where indeed? Nice of ya to care only when it suits ya." I chuckled, tucking my hands under my arms to warm them.

She snorted and sank back onto her seat. "They could be ill."

"On the same day?" I shook my head. "I'd wager they've been called to the Wall."

"Shh." Tris looked around her. "Eivin warned me that ya might start sharing your conspiracy theories again."

Of course he did.

"The king has already tried to kill me once, Tris." I leaned in closer to her. "He'll do it again whenever he likes. There's no point in my holding back now."

"Taryn," she hissed and yanked hard on my arm. "Canna ya just let it go for a little while? Just until things cool off. I'm sure with enough time things will get better."

That made one of us. But I reminded myself I was going to try to patch things up with her.

"Fine. If it will make ya happy."

Tris looked like she didn't believe me. I agreed far too easily. "Ya have a life here, a good one if you'll let yourself see it. Stop chasing shadows that don't exist."

"What was it you said earlier? Just because you say a thing doesn't make it true?"

She stuck out her tongue at me. "It's not fair to twist my words around."

"It is when they are true."

Tris straightened her cloak. "Blast you and your logic. Somehow you always out maneuver me."

I reined myself in before saying anything more and ruining our time together. I had to believe she chose the lies, needing all to be well with the world, because it was easier. Lies didn't cost her anything. Having lost her mom at such a young age, I knew the pain she carried was still fresh. Without a body to bury or an explanation for her ma's mysterious disappearance, Tris couldn't heal.

That was the day we grew apart. The day when real life hurt too much for her to deal with. When dresses and boys became a source of escape for her. I couldn't begrudge her that, but I also couldn't say nothing.

I loved Tris and would do anything to keep her from harm. Even if that meant telling her a truth she wasn't ready to hear.

I turned away from her and lifted my eyes up to the sun as we escaped the icy fingers of the veil. The boat rocked as we drifted into earthly waters teeming with life and colour. They were a brilliant contrast to the faded colours of my realm.

A wooden plank was lowered when we bumped against the shore. Tris rose to wait our turn to disembark. Her dress matched my own: long, flowing silk that trailed along the ground behind us. Someone with far more poise could manage the length, but I was not exactly graceful in dress shoes.

I missed my leathers, but Eivin had made sure to burn the pieces so they couldn't be used as evidence against me. There was a spare set hidden beneath a loose floorboard under my bed, but no one knew about those. I wasn't ready to risk it just yet. Not until the real battle began.

The reapers disembarked first, carrying curved glass daggers and whips forged from the mists of the Netherworld at their hips. Eivin paused to look back at me.

Be careful, he mouthed then fell back into line.

"Do ya ever think about how cute he is?"

"Eivin?" I turned to look at Tris like she'd just sprouted three heads. "Of course I don't."

"I'm just saying. Even you can admire a beautiful view."

I glanced over at Eivin and scrunched up my nose. I followed behind her as we disembarked from the ferry and took to the path that would lead us to town. "There is something very wrong with the world when my best friend can convince me to check out my own cousin's ass."

# CHAPTER NINE

##

## DEVLIN

AS WE WAITED FOR the doctors to take her into surgery, I tried to swallow down the permanent lump in my throat. After she was prepped, we'd have six hours to pray. They would need to re-open her incisions that ran from her neck to her navel. Even that procedure put her at risk. Nothing about this day would be predictable, so we were all on edge.

The sound of her heart monitor filled the silence of the room with a constant reminder of what was at stake. The sun crested the clock tower at high noon and flooded Alana's bed with a radiant glow. Almost as though it were illuminating the divine. It was a stunning image as long as you didn't take it as some sort of sign.

A light tap on the door gave us all a bit of a jolt. Turning, I saw the top of Seamus' eyes poking through the small glass window of Alana's door. I cocked my head to the side, trying to process how his showing up now made me feel. I suppose I should have felt happy, but I wasn't.

"I'll be right back," I said to my parents, who gave me a small nod before I left.

I didn't have to go far to find him. He sat, crumpled inside one of the blue chairs that lined the hallway between patient rooms. He was rubbing his hands together, clearly uncomfortable. Good. He should feel bad. He was a ripe arse for not coming sooner.

"I sent you about a hundred texts since Alana took ill and this is the one you decided to respond to?" I did my best to keep my temper in check.

"Aye." His eyes were on the floor. His voice was thick.

I stared at him, dumbfounded. "Aye? That's it? No 'I'm sorry I've been a wanker for not coming sooner?' No sob story about how you couldn't find the bus fare to get down here for an entire year? No pathetic excuse why visiting your best mates wasn't an option?"

My words made him flinch. They were harsh, even if they were true.

"Look, Devlin, I'm sorry I didn't come before. It's just"

"No!" I shouted. My hands started shaking. Seamus looked up at me, taken aback. "No. You don't get to bumble in here on the day of her surgery and expect me to sit back and say, 'It's okay, mate, no hard feelings.'"

"Devlin—" he tried, standing to meet my gaze.

"She needed you, Seamus. She needed her friends." I shook my head. "None of them came, not a single one, but I expected that. They were only classmates, after all. But you? We grew up together. She thinks of you like a brother, but you couldn't be bothered, could you?"

He clenched his fists together. I knew that gesture well. It didn't work. No matter how hard you squeezed, the anger stayed put.

"I knew I'd make things worse if I came."

The double doors opened beside us and the day shift nurse named Ciara walked past us. She was pushing a crash cart, forcing me to gain my composure.

"Afternoon, Devlin," she said. Her smile was kind, yet sad. She knew the prognosis was unreliable. "I'll be praying for you today."

I nodded my thanks. She meant well. Maybe she would even say a prayer, but at the end of the day, she got to go home. She'd likely curl up in the arms of her husband and forget all about those who lay helpless in her wing.

"I'm sorry," Seamus said once the nurse had passed us. "I am so sorry. I know there's no excuse for not coming sooner. I tried. I did. It's just...being at any hospital reminds me of—" His eyes welled. Seamus never cried, not even when his ma passed when he was a young boy. She had spent her last days in a room much like Alana's before the stroke finally took her. Right now, though, he looked like he was about to lose it.

I felt like a daft prick. Thinking on it, I'd never seen him in any hospital. Not even when he broke his nose when he got in a fight with Patty O'Shea when he was twelve. He chose to let it set wrong instead of stepping foot into a hospital.

I let out a deep breath, knowing we all had our own demons to fight. This was his.

"It's okay, Seamus," I said to the floor after a moment. I knew my voice was laced with resignation, but I couldn't help it. That was a hurt that was gonna take some time to heal. "You're here now. That's all that matters."

Seamus shook his head. "No. It's not okay. I mean"—he wiped the tear that attempted to fall and looked me in the eye—"what if she doesn't make it? Or, what if she does make it, but the cancer comes back? What if she comes out if it and is nothing more than a vegetable?" There was an edge of hysteria in his voice.

His 'what ifs' were like daggers, but they were also the deep, dark thoughts I'd had a million times myself, but never dared to say out loud.

"She's gonna come through this," I said even though I knew it was a lie. It was an expression we had been conditioned to say. "She's strong."

Seamus walked to Alana's door and looked in the window. "She doesn't look strong," he whispered. "She looks like she's a breath away. Jesus, why did this have to happen to her?" His hands dug into his hair. "It's not fair!"

His shout echoed off the walls, making a nurse, who was wheeling a patient into a room, turn her head for a moment. They must get this sort of outburst a lot because she went back to her work without a second glance. I didn't say anything. I let him rage. I'd been through this stage. It was hard as hell. And I had to do it alone. I tried not to show this anger to my folks. They were barely holding on as it was.

"Why don't you go in and say 'hi' to her?"

Seamus' eyes widened. "No. No. I don't think I could—"

"She'll never forgive you if you don't."

His shoulders slumped as he considered it. He could probably hear Alana scolding him in his head. After a moment, he nodded.

"It will be okay," I said, though even I didn't believe it.

I opened Alana's door as I had a million times before. My folks were exactly where I'd left them. "Ma, Da, look who came for a visit?"

They both looked up and gave Seamus a warm smile. Ma stood and gave him a hug, while Da waited to shake his hand.

"Thanks for coming," they both said as warmly as warranted, given the grave situation.

"Of course," Seamus said, taking a step towards Alana. He stopped at the foot of her bed. His breath altered and his mouth dropped. I couldn't even imagine what he must have thought at that moment. The last time he saw her she was still speaking and telling jokes. She still had her hair and hadn't been this frail.

Seeming to understand his shock, Da squeezed Seamus' shoulder.

"We'll give you lads a minute." He reached out to Ma and they left together, hand in hand, Ma's head resting against Da's arm. The gesture reminded me that the burden of the last year had been great for all of us.

I, too, started to take my leave to give Seamus some privacy, but he stopped me with an outstretched hand.

"Oy, don't leave." His eyes were wide. He was scared. So was I.

"I'll be out in the hall. It's okay. You can talk to her. She won't bite." I gave him a half smile and walked outside, but continued to watch him through the glass once the door closed.

For a second, he didn't budge. He simply stood there taking it all in. He took a few tentative steps to sit in the seat on her right.

His lips moved, but I couldn't hear what he said. He was probably hoping that his words alone would heal her, like some sort of movie. I know I believed that at first, but this was real life, and his words couldn't wake her up. She remained unchanged, frozen between life and death, still as the night.

He reached out and took her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb, something I'd never seen him do with her before. After a moment, he lowered his head onto her bed.

Giant sobs erupted from the guy I had never seen cry before as he grabbed at her bed sheets. Wails that were so grief-stricken my throat tightened with compassion. It was only then that I started to wonder how much my sister might have meant to Seamus.

When he came out, he didn't say anything. He gave me a big hug and walked off, shoulders slouched in on themselves as he tucked his hands into his pockets. As he rounded the corner, the gurney arrived with a crew of four nurses. It was time. I crossed myself and did one final prayer before I rejoined my parents.

Countless cups of coffee were fetched for Ma as we endured the overcrowded surgical waiting room after Alana was taken back to prep for surgery. The tele played in the background, though none of the words seem to get through into my mind. No one was watching it, but it covered the sound of the ever ticking clock that hovered over all of us. Every now and again a physician came in and the whole room perked up, hoping that he or she would have news about their loved ones. After the fourth time of not being our doctor, I stopped looking up. I had a feeling we'd be the last family here.

The screen above me was set on a local news channel. The depressing reports dampened the mood of the room even further, if that were possible. Robberies, wars, cruelty. It was too hard to watch. I was about to turn my back on it when a story caught my eye. The headline read: SUDDEN INCREASE IN MENTAL ILLNESS PLAGUES NORTHERN IRELAND. The woman reporter on the screen wore the ever stern looking face of being the bearer of bad news.

"According to a recent study, there has been a spike in cases of mental illness and schizophrenia in Northern Ireland. Doctors are baffled by what may be causing this increase. Researchers are looking into air quality and local water supplies for some clue as to the nature of this epidemic. Patients are said to be suffering from some form of delusion, says Dr. Ward of the Mental Institute of Ireland. Ward claims that several patients have felt 'evil spirits' or dark shadows coming towards them. Some are even claiming to have been 'marked' by the Devil himself. They claim their skin has been burned black by evil. The institute was not available for comment." The news anchor's eyes shifted as she shuffled her papers. When she looked up, her grim expression was replaced with a bright smile. "In other news, Dottie, the water skiing dog, made an appearance on—"

Black burns? Mental illness increase? I couldn't help but wonder if that had anything to do with my hallucination about the dying girl...Maybe I was going mad?

I pushed the idea out of my head. One thing was certain. If I thought about it too much, I would go crazy. I was sleep deprived and stressed, is all.

Standing up, I walked away from the tele and began to pace, trying my best to keep those errant thoughts at bay.

As the hours wore on, I found myself lying down on a stretch of chairs. I tried to resist the tug of sleep, but the monotony of it all finally got to me. My eyelids were no match against the sleepless nights as of late. I drifted off and dreamt of the blond girl and the blood that followed after her.

When Ma shook me awake, I found myself a bit fuzzy-headed, struggling to remember where I was.

"What is it? What's wrong?" I asked, straightening myself.

It was Da who answered me. "She's in recovery. The physician wants to speak with us."

Brushing the sleep from my eyes, I stood up and straightened my shirt collar. "Let's go then."

Together we followed a nurse who led us to where a surgeon was waiting farther down the hall. He was still in his green scrubs. A thin layer of sweat covered his face. His dark eyes looked tired. He gestured to the seats beside him. Ma and Da each sat, but I remained standing.

"We've done all we can on our end," Dr. Kendall said, taking off his scrub cap to reveal his bald spot. "All we can do now is wait. If it works, we'll see her vitals start to recover within a few hours. If not..."

We all knew the outcome if her vitals didn't improve. She'd go into cardiac arrest and there would be nothing they could do to bring her back.

I went to her recovery room while Ma and Da lingered a bit longer to ask the physician more questions. I knew my time might be limited and I had things that needed to be said.

The sound of Alana's heart monitor beeping in the background when I entered was comforting. As long as the current rhythm stayed consistent, she was still in there. Still my sister—recovering from the beast that tried to kill her.

Pulling up a chair and grabbing her hand, I swallowed down my emotion. I looked up at the off-white ceiling in an effort to hold back the tears. My eyes lowered to the coving in the hallway. A sparkling garland peppered with red plastic berries was still tacked to the wall, even though the time for making merry had long since come and gone.

"At least she made it through Christmas," I could hear Da saying in my head. I remembered thinking at the time that perhaps she had been holding out for the holidays to pass. They had come and gone, yet she still clung to life.

I looked down at her skeletal body and knew how this day would end.

"Oh, Lana. Ever since you got sick three years ago, there has been this weight in my chest." I grabbed at my shirt and yanked at the fabric. "I was a fool to believe I'd come in here today to finally feel that weight lifted." My eyes filled with tears. "But it doesn't feel better, Lana." I sank down into the chair beside her. "In fact, it feels a lot bloody worse."

The procedure hadn't worked. I could feel how weak she was now. My own life felt as though it were on its last breath.

Fat tears began to stream down my face, completely destroying the strong mask I wore at home. "It's okay, Lana."

The tears came freely now, making it hard to speak, but she had to know. She had to know she had my permission. "You don't have to fight anymore. You can let go now." I looked down at her frozen face, half expecting her relief to show. "I will take care of Ma and Da. It will be okay. I want you to be at peace. You don't have to hold on for us anymore. It's okay..."

I looked down at Alana's hand and held fast. "I love you, sis. You are the other half of my soul and I'll be lost without ya, but I also can't be selfish anymore. I can't keep praying for you to fight a battle you never had any hope of winning. It's clear to me now that your spirit is needed elsewhere."

The thrum of her monitor seemed to hesitate as though it was processing my words. "I don't want to see you in pain anymore," I managed to get out.

I could only make out vague blobs of colour around me through the wall of tears hugging my eyes. I pinched them closed and rested my head on her pillow, thoroughly drained with emotion.

A moment later, a single beep began an erratic pattern. Faster. Much too fast. I bit back the tears. She was going into cardiac arrest. The chemo was killing her.

"It's okay," I whispered, more to myself than to her.

A nurse came in, alerted by the alarms, followed shortly thereafter by Ma and Da. Their wails of dismay bounced off the corners of my brain. It was all happening so fast and yet I felt like I was moving through mud. I felt myself stand up as Ma swooped in to take my place and hold tight to her daughter's hand. That was how it should be.

Numb, I moved towards the door and out of her room. I had said my goodbyes. I didn't need the memory of her writhing in pain as they attempted to restart her heart. I wanted to remember her as she was. Calm and peaceful.

"Goodbye, Lana," I whispered before escaping the room to collapse into a heap in the first chair I saw.

# CHAPTER TEN

## TARYN

IT HAD BEEN A really long and surprisingly uneventful day. The old geezer that was first on my list went on the ferry without a fuss. He just mumbled something about football and followed me straight back to the dock. Soul crossings weren't always that easy. Not one, but two of my crossovers today needed a bit of persuading before they accepted that they were really dead. My training as a banshee demanded that I help ease the souls into the Netherworld gently, but sometimes I'd rather just kick them for being so blind and say, "You're dead, mate. Yeah, it's bad luck and all, but that's the shite you were dealt, now move on."

I kept looking over my shoulder, just in case, but there were no shadows lurking or menacing bad guys waiting to jump me. And there wasn't any sign of that reaper I ran into at the hospital.

Reaching my final soul of the day had been quite a trek for me. Usually, my territory didn't stretch this far so late at night. On a nice summer day, I might have enjoyed the walk, but not at twilight during the middle of January. It was bloody well the bitterest cold I had felt all year. The king might not have tried to kill me today, but he sure as hell made sure I had to suffer a bit.

By the time I stopped in front of the building and looked up at the name, I was frozen through. Saint Brigid Cancer Centre.

A chill ran down my spine as I blew warmth back into my fingers. I hadn't stepped foot in this building since my attack. The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I placed my hand on my hip, feeling the reassuring bulge of my dagger beneath the layers of my cloak. My rational brain told me that an attack could happen anywhere, not just at this particular hospital, but I wasn't going in there blind a second time.

As I stepped through the front door, I remained alert, watching for anything out of the ordinary. I passed a couple of banshees going about their jobs and pulled my hood lower, heading on instinct to where the stairwell would be. I hated how all hospital wards inevitably were laid out the same. Nurses became faceless, doctors were a blur of pastel surgical garb or white coats, and the sounds of grief-stricken families huddled in patient rooms held the same wailing tone.

Saint Brigid Cancer Centre had one very distinct difference...the scent of death was far more prevalent here than a normal hospital.

Turning down another wing, I moved beyond the nearly empty waiting room with its channel fixed on the news and moved towards my soul's room. With each step I took, I grew more ill at ease. My final soul of the day was located in the room directly across from where I was attacked.

As I approached the area, I could still see my bloody handprints smeared across the walls. This was the spot I almost died. I reached out to steady myself on the wall as I sucked in huge breaths.

"You are strong. You are in control." The words sounded just as ridiculous as when my da had told me to use them anytime I felt anxious. "What a load of bollocks."

Stepping over the cleaned tiles, I turned to face my intended room.

Although I had been doing this job for years, it never got easy to watch people die. Some were bitter to the very end, belligerent and downright hateful. With others, you could smell their terror as the shadows began to creep in. While other humans went with a peace and grace that I admired. It was that sense of calm I felt radiating out of the soul I was here to collect when I entered the hospital room of my last assignment: Alana Gallagher.

The steady drone of a heart monitor beeped between the wheezing sobs of people around her bed. A woman stood in a man's embrace, her shoulders shuddering as she buried her head in his chest. She was slight of stature and her wedding band a perfectly smaller match to her husband's.

The woman was clearly the mother of the dying girl. She had reddish tones in her hair. I liked the way highlights of auburn caught in the fading sunlight that ran the length of the wall just over the hospital bed. Her husband was tall and thin, his hands calloused, and his nails painted black at the edges with what appeared to be oil residue. There was a light dusting of gray at his temples and deep lines etched into his face.

Their clothes were simple, plain, and unassuming. I liked them instantly. No pretenses. No masks.

Tears were normal. Wailing and unintelligible pleading were, too. Sometimes I walked into the complete silence of shock. This room was in mourning, bracing for the final moment to arrive. All very common reactions.

It was the girl, however, who was different. She lay still and fragile in the hospital bed, her eyes closed and yet I felt as if she sensed my presence. Her skin was pale and gaunt, stretched too tight over her cheekbones. Her hands and arms were a patchwork of bruises from recent IV sticks. A feeding tube and a secondary coil of tubing snaked out from under her covers, trailing down to a small yellowish pouch that hung from a bar on her bedrail.

Despite my inability to look into this girl's eyes, I recognized the life that lived beneath her lids. This one was a fighter. There was little doubt of that, considering how long she had fought to remain on this earth.

Humans liked to believe in fate, in a greater purpose. In reality, death was unavoidable. It was planned and executed. I never could understand how or why King Baylor chose someone so young.

I didn't make the rules and I sure as hell didn't like many of them. My role was to enforce them. That was it. Contrary to what the myths said, there weren't any silly strings to be cut or a giant hourglass slowly sifting the sands of time. It was far more mundane with only a man at a desk with a pen.

As I approached this girl's bedside, I couldn't help but feel the urgency in her aura. Her fingers twitched against her sides as if she subconsciously wished to reach out and touch me. She looked so tiny in the bed, her body taking up less than half of the space. I could make out an indent where someone had recently sat beside her. Droplets of tears stained the sheet a darker white.

Beside me, the girl's mother wiped at her nose with a tissue. Her face was red and blotchy. When she opened her eyes I saw how bloodshot they were. Her husband hardly looked any better. He appeared barely able to remain standing.

"We nearly lost her," the woman cried into her tissue.

"Mrs. Gallagher," the physician said, lowering his gaze. "She may seem at rest now but that is only because we have given her something for the pain..."

The woman's fingers clutched her husband's. "What do you mean?"

The physician looked at the husband and then back at the wife. "I'm afraid that the surgery was not a success. Her heart is failing. It's only a matter of time now. A brief time at that."

The woman's hands went to her mouth.

"It's time to say your goodbyes," he said. "I'm so sorry."

The physician gave her shoulder a slight squeeze before walking to the door and leaving them with their daughter.

"Well, we knew this moment would come." The sadness in the father's voice made my throat tighten.

I had seen this same scene play out a thousand times and yet this one started to get to me. Maybe it was because I saw a part of myself in the girl, in her will to live and fight against all odds. I admired that.

I reached down and took the girl's hand in mine, careful not to move her so much that her parents would notice. Her fingers twitched in mine. I stared down at her hand, amazed at the warmth pooling in my chest at her touch. I never touched the dying, not before their passing, at least. Not because it was forbidden but because I wanted to remain detached. I needed to. This girl, Alana, however, made me long for a connection. To understand what this moment felt like when it was surrounded by peace and serenity instead of the fear I had felt when fighting for my own life.

Her body may have wasted away, caving in where it should have been flush with vibrant life that youth held for humans and yet I saw beauty.

I smiled down at her as I knelt beside her bed. "You have fought bravely, lass. No one will be taking that from ya."

I drew my hand back as I felt my chest tighten once more. Fate was a cruel bitch to take someone like her so soon. Death was the humane path for her to take considering the alternative was no life at all, but it was a path that should not have been forced on her until she was old and surrounded by grandchildren.

Stop it, Taryn. She's a job. Nothing more. I lowered my gaze. Get your fool head in the game and be done with it.

And yet, I knew she was more than that somehow. She was the light to parallel my darkness, the angel to the demons I saw all around me. This girl was bound for the Isle of Glass, a place of peace and love, while I would remain locked in a constant battle with the ugliness that had poisoned my world. Alana would never see the vile Lorcan, never feel fear again.

I envied her for that.

"They love you," I said, glancing at her parents.

They stood huddled in the corner, clinging to each other. It was time.

I squeezed her hand. "It doesn't hurt, you know. Not the actual dying part, that is. It's a wee bit like blowing out a deep breath. Your eyes will close and when they open again, it will all be over."

Her heart monitor flickered abnormally. It only happened once, but I knew more would follow. I looked at her parents and saw that the anomaly had gone unnoticed.

"You'll like the Isle of Glass. It's warm and filled with the loveliest colours ya can imagine. Sandy beaches with tall palms reachin' for the blue skies above. The water is clear and the birds in the trees sing each night to welcome the moon. And the City of Finals...there aren't words to be describing its beauty."

Drawing my hood back, I sank down onto the edge of her bed and placed my other hand on her leg. It would be no trouble at all for me to wrap my entire hand around her thigh if I tried.

"Wait till ya see the ship you will be sailing on. Made all with white birch, crafted by builders far beyond our shores with chisel and hammer. They carve magic symbols into the hull for protection in the crossing, don't ya know?"

I had never been to the Isle of Glass, but I hoped that someday I'd see it for myself.

"The masts are bronze, gold, and silver. The railings gleam with hues of blue and green made with the finest sea glass to wash upon our shores. The long bench seats are crafted from the towering pines of the Diamuid Mountains not far from my home. They grow nearly ten times the height of a man and it takes four to fell each one."

There was a gentle lessening of her struggles to breathe as I continued, letting the tone of my voice soothe her, preparing her for the crossing. The light smattering of freckles splashed across her cheeks stood out against her pallid skin. Her lips were a pale blue, but I was sure they once boasted a vibrant red. A small knitted cap sat upon her head, though I didn't see the point. Whether bald or draped with long flowing auburn tresses to match her family, she was still quite lovely.

I fell silent as her breathing hitched. Her body spasmed and the heart monitor beeped erratically. She was ready.

"Alana!" Her ma lurched away from her husband and raced to her daughter's bedside. "Don't go. Please, not yet! Someone help her!" she yelled towards the open doorway.

I patted the back of Alana's hand and rose. "Don't you be fighting it. Time to rest now, lass."

Stepping back, I watched as the mother clung to her daughter's frail arm. Her da stood at his wife's shoulder, holding her, seeming to know this was his daughter's time. His lower lip quivered as he reached out and placed a trembling hand on the heart monitor.

Alana couldn't breathe. Her lungs had finally filled with fluid, despite the doctor's best efforts to drain them. I wanted to close my eyes, to look away from the drowning girl, but I couldn't. She deserved to sense my confidence when she passed.

As fluid bubbled past Alana's lips and trailed down her chin, I prayed that her passing was not as traumatic as it looked.

"Do something!" her ma begged, her eyes wide with fright. She looked at her husband for help and blanched when she saw that he had unplugged the heart monitor. "What are you doing? We have to call for help. Dr. Kendall, the nurses...someone has to help her."

"No." He shook his head and reached for his wife. She resisted his touch, craning her neck wildly to look towards the door. She could run out for help, but being at the end of the hall and with the rising commotion from a few rooms over as another soul was in the process of passing, I doubted anyone would hear. "No more tests. No more pain. Alana deserves to be at peace."

"But she's my little girl." The mother's wail was muffled by her husband's chest as he enveloped her. He stared down at his daughter with tears streaming along his cheeks. His whole body shook as he silently whispered goodbye.

Alana's mouth fell slack and her eyes shifted. Her body stopped its tremors. I blew out a slow, weighted breath. That was a hard one.

"Thank you," a voice called out from behind me. I turned to find a stunning girl standing beside me.

Alana's once bald head was now covered in heavy waves of dark red hair that fell around slender shoulders. Her cheeks were touched with a natural rose tint and her lips were kissed with life once more. She had been restored to her former self, and she was simply radiant, just as I knew she would be.

"What are ya thankin' me for?" I asked.

"I could hear you speaking, telling me all of those wonderful things. It was kind of you to try to ease my fears."

I smiled. It was rare that I was ever thanked. "You're welcome. My name is Taryn."

"Alana."

"I know who ya are." I laughed. "You're why I'm here."

Alana walked towards me, her feet bare and her posture already betraying a newfound comfort in her body. The hospital gown fit her better around the bust and hips now. Gone was the skeletal girl from the hospital bed. She looked down at herself, running her hands slowly along the hem of the fabric draped over her shoulders.

"Don't worry. You don't have to wear that horrid gown for long. You can change when we get to the other side."

Her smile waned as she looked back towards her ma. "It's weird. I'm standing here and yet lying over there."

I nodded, clasping my hands in front of me, unsure of what else to do. My usual speech didn't seem fitting for this moment.

"It can be a wee bit confusin' at first, that's for sure, but ya will get the hang of it soon enough."

Alana looked away as her ma collapsed over her former body, clinging to it. Her da could no longer hold back his own sobs as he sank down beside her. "Are you like me?"

"Dead?" I shook my head. "No. I'm just from a different place."

"From the place you spoke of?" she asked, following my lead as we moved towards the door.

Most of the spirits I ushered to the Netherworld began to lose their memories of their past life fairly quickly. It was like a fog that fell over the mind, numbing and all-consuming. New memories would soon replace the old once they arrived at their destination. Usually, by the time we reached the ferry, their human life was nothing more than a passing cloud. For others, it took a bit longer.

I used to find that rather sad. It must be awful to forget everything about yourself in a matter of moments, but I'd come to think of it as a blessing. I couldn't imagine spending an eternity pining for a loved one or reliving past regrets. That would be true torture. That torment was only reserved for the Lorcan.

"No," I said. "I'm from a different land. You will see it when we make the crossing. You are going on farther, to the city of Finals."

"Is it safe?"

"Safe?" Her question confused me.

Her gaze was direct as she surveyed the scars on my face. It was not an unkind, direct gaze but more thoughtful.

"Aye," I said with confidence. "Where you are going it will be safe."

"But not where you live?"

I cleared my throat and pulled my hood up over my head and into place once more.

"Let's not be talking about me. We have a schedule to keep and if we miss our ferry I'll be buggered...again."

Her brow furrowed as we stepped through the door and into the hall. "And my brother?"

I stopped walking to look back at her. "What about him?"

"Who will look after him?"

I wasn't really sure how to answer that question. "Your ma and da will—"

"No, you don't understand. He pretends to be all strong and macho, but he and I...we had a special bond." She nibbled on her lower lip, contemplating. "I could be a ghost. You know, a spirit trapped between worlds to stay behind and watch over him."

I bit back a laugh. "Ghosts aren't real, lass. At least, not in the way you're thinking. They pop up here and there in America, but that's because their reapers are right lazy wankers."

She didn't laugh at my joke when she turned away from me to glance back, one last time, at her parents.

"No one will ever be able to understand him like I do. He's going to fall apart. He'll lose his way—I can't let that happen to Devlin."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. It takes time, is all."

I never liked talking about relatives. It was disturbing to know that someday, when this Devlin guy was old and gray, I might be waiting at his bedside, too.

Alana pressed back against the wall as two nurses raced past in a hurry to enter her room.

"What's going on in here?" one of the nurses cried. "Who turned off her monitor?"

"Took them long enough," Alana mused as we walked together down the hall. The late evening sunlight had nearly faded completely from the sky as darkness filtered in through the windows at our backs.

It would be fully dark by the time we reached the ferry. I stifled a shiver. I didn't like passing through the veil at night. It was even creepier than in the day. I reached down and touched my knife buried under my dress for reassurance again.

Glancing into a room as we passed, I saw a physician and group of nurses working frantically on a patient. I dipped my head in greeting as a banshee passed us on the other side with a billow of her silver dress. Her golden hair fell elegantly over her shoulders. Alana turned to look back but quickly hurried to catch up.

"They usually notice sooner when people turn off the equipment like your da did, but they were workin' on that guy over there," I replied and steered her away.

"I'm glad Da did it." She wrapped her arms around her waist as we turned the corner. Our footsteps uttered no sound as we wove past a food cart. The scent of mashed potatoes and gravy hung heavy in the air but didn't smell the least bit appetizing.

We turned the corner and began walking down the final hallway. At the end of the hall was a waiting area. I took several steps before I realised Alana wasn't following. "What's wrong with ya?"

"It's Devlin," she whispered, frozen in the hall.

I followed her gaze to where she was looking. There was a guy slumped over in a row of chairs. His face was buried in his hands and he appeared to be crying by the shuddering movements of his shoulders.

I looked over and recognized the intense agony in Alana's eyes. "You really love him, don't ya?"

She nodded. "He's not just my brother. He's my twin; the other half of my heart. We did everything together. Finished each other's sentences, knew what each other was feeling, loved the same music...how can a person really live once that part of them is taken?"

Clearly, I needed to get her mind off her brother so she could transition with me smoothly. "I have twin sisters. Though I wouldn't miss them at all if they were gone."

Alana turned to look at me and gave me a smile that I wasn't expecting. "You say that now, but you would."

I nodded. "Aye, maybe someday I would."

It was an odd feeling, seeing this girl mourn for her brother. It's not as though I hadn't heard countless souls wailing about leaving behind loved ones, but this was somehow different. I felt her pain inside myself. Sorrow wasn't something I was used to associating with humans. Remaining detached was how I got through my days. I swallowed hard and worried that nothing would ever be the same again. Not after today. Not after this human became real to me in a very raw and emotional way.

"Come on then," I said, tugging her elbow. "We have a ferry to catch."

"Oh...I see Seamus coming to talk to him!" She gasped. "Can we get closer? Just let me see them one last time? Then, I promise, I'll leave quietly."

Her big green eyes looked up at me with so much hope and passion that I couldn't resist. I sighed. "Fine. One look."

Alana's eyes grew wide, then she leaned forward to hug me. Every muscle in my body flinched in surprise. No human had ever done that before. Gratitude was usually the farthest sentiment from their lips when I was preparing them for their crossing. Her touch felt oddly similar to the hugs my da used to give me as a child.

Maybe our worlds weren't so different after all.

# CHAPTER ELEVEN

## DEVLIN

I KNEW IT THE second she passed away. Even though I was yards away from her...I sensed it. The piece of her that lived inside of me vanished. It was as though my lungs were robbed of air. I felt my body slip off the chair I had been sitting in as I sank to the ground.

"Devlin?" I could hear someone saying my name, but my brain refused to acknowledge the voice. Refused to acknowledge any of this.

"Devlin, mate? Are you alright? What is it? What happened?"

I forced my eyes open long enough to find Seamus' broad frame kneeling down in front of me. I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You stayed?" My voice was hoarse...spent.

"I wasn't planning on it." His dark eyes went to the floor. "I took a walk outside. Stood at the bus stop for a while, but then came back."

I nodded. Alana would have liked that. Liked. I was already thinking about her in the past tense. My face fell.

"What's wrong? Alana—is she...?" Seamus couldn't finish the word.

In answer, I cradled my head in my hands and let out a guttural sound of anguish.

"No," he whispered.

I heard the pain in his voice as he stumbled backwards against the wall.

I lifted my head from my hands and saw Seamus' intertwine his fingers behind his neck. His muscles flexed with caged anger as his nostrils flared. I knew this gesture too. He was about to lose his shit, and when he lost his cool, things got broken.

"Seamus, I know you're angry," I said, getting up and walking over to him. "I am too, but punching a hole in the wall isn't going to bring her back."

His eyes found mine. There was a rage there like I've never seen. Blood pooled in his cheeks and his eyes went bloodshot. "No, but it sure as hell would make me feel better."

Seamus wound his hand up to throw a punch at the wall beside him, but I had anticipated the move. My hand encircled his wrist before he gained forward momentum, enabling me to twist his hand around his back, slamming his body against the wall instead of his fist. I held his wrist firm against his back as he thrashed and cursed my name. I widened my stance to cage in his rage. He was stronger than I remembered. Even though he was a few inches shorter than me, he had compensated for his height by working out. He was more muscle than brain sometimes, though. He couldn't see the bigger picture...the hell he'd catch from the hospital about the damage to their property. Even on what little sleep I had, I knew this temper tantrum would solve nothing.

"Get off me!" Seamus shouted, jostling so hard, he almost broke free.

He left me no choice. I hoisted his arm up higher, causing my friend more pain than I wanted. "This isn't going to solve anything, you big oaf. You're not the only one who loved her, you know!" I shouted.

At that, the tension in his body vanished. I loosened my grip but didn't release him yet. He pressed his forehead against the wall.

"How long have you known?" he asked.

I released my hold on him and took a step back as he turned around to look at me.

"Not for sure until just now, but I sensed there might have been something between you when I saw you with her today," I admitted.

Seamus rubbed absently at his wrist for a moment before he lowered his eyes.

"There wasn't anything between us. I never had the guts to let her know how I felt...and now...now it's too late."

I braced myself for his refueled anger, but it never came. His jaw clenched a few times but then it slowly relaxed.

"Screw it. I'm out of here."

He pushed past me harder than he needed to and stormed down the hall.

For moment, I stood there, staring down the hall that Seamus had walked. I wanted to be able to leave too. Escape from the pain that was coming, but I was her surviving brother. I had to stay and clean up the broken bits of what remained of my family.

I took one last look at the door Seamus had left through before I turned around to face reality. That was when I nearly crashed into her. My eyes widened and my voice caught in my throat.

"You?" I whispered.

It was her, the bloodied girl I'd seen dying on the floor last week. She was barely recognizable, but her eyes were a dead giveaway. Gone was the blood and swelling from her face. It its place were the most stunning markings I'd ever laid eyes on. My eyes widened as I realised the black marks weren't tattoos, but rather the exact shape of where her flesh had been torn apart before.

Confused, I looked down at the rest of her but there was no evidence of a cast on a leg that had to have been broken from what I had seen. There wasn't a bandage in sight. The look in her eyes confirmed that she knew who I was.

"How—" I muttered, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

Her mouth opened, but it was her eyes that held me transfixed. Wide sea-blue orbs stared back at me.

"You're him. The bloke I saw..." she whispered, taking a step back.

"Aye. How are you? How are you walking right now? Your leg was shredded."

She shook her head very slowly. Her skin went pale as she took another step away.

"This canna be possible."

She glanced to the side, her expression shifting from disbelief to fear when she looked back at me. She was scared. Of me? Did she think I had done that to her?

"What happened to you? Who attacked you?"

Her eyes blinked at me without an answer. Clearly I needed to change my approach.

"I'm so glad you're okay. And that you're real! I thought I was hallucinating you." I smiled and stepped towards her. Whoever she was, I was captivated. Her eyes held me anchored to her. Alana used to joke that one day a bird would catch my eye and there would never be another who could hold a candle, but I always laughed off her romantic fantasies. I wasn't laughing now.

She wore the same silver dress that she had before, but this one wasn't covered in blood. A full-length dark gray cloak draped her from head to toe. She looked more like a character in a play than any schoolmate of Alana's. Had she been getting visitors that I didn't know about?

Her mouth was still parted as though equally shocked to discover me again. She glanced away just then as though she had heard someone calling her name. She swallowed once and then turned back to me. "I canna talk to ya."

Her reply was short and to the point but did little to hide the slight tremor in her voice. I took a step forward and she tensed. I held out a hand. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

"You canna hurt me," came her curt reply. Gone was her trepidation from before. She looked on edge now. It was impossible not to notice her settling into a fighting stance. It was the same position my feet took before I threw a punch. Her fingers flinched at her side.

"Are you Devlin? Alana's brother?" she asked.

"I—wait. How do you know my sister?" I took a closer look at her, trying to place where I might have seen her before, but came up with nothing. There was no way I would have forgotten her if she was friends with Alana. So how did she know her? Maybe she was a volunteer at the hospital.

She looked up at me again, her head cocked to the side. "I thought you were one of us."

"One of who?" I asked. "And what's with the cloak? Are you in a play or something?"

"It doesn't matter. This shouldn't be happenin'. I have to go."

"Wait!" I called out as she turned to leave. She paused and looked back over her shoulder, but I knew from her stance she had no intention of staying long.

"The nurses told me that I was crazy. That you were my mind's way of dealing with the pain—" My throat closed.

She didn't answer me. She continued to look at me as though she couldn't quite understand my rambling.

"Look, I just need to know. You were scared of something before. That much was clear to me. Are you still in danger?" My hands tightened at the thought of seeing her in pain. She stiffened under my surveillance, but I couldn't look away. I felt the need to memorize every detail of her while she stood there in front of me, as though I knew she might vanish like the fog.

Her lips didn't budge as she watched me with careful eyes.

I pressed for answers. "Who did this to you?" I took another tentative step towards her before she held up a hand to me.

"Stop asking questions that ya won't be gettin' answers to. After today, we will never see each other again. We canna be seen together. Ever. Forget you ever laid eyes on me."

That was never gonna happen.

She took one final look at me before she turned and marched away. Her hand trailed behind her as though she were dragging something.

"Wait!" I ran to catch up to her. "Just tell me your name." My hand grabbed her wrist like I had with Seamus, but I was sure to be gentle. Her skin was unbelievably soft. Unlike anything I had felt before...and her flesh was cool to the touch. She must have come in from outside recently. Her eyes found mine and we stood there, inches apart. Her breath was hot against my face as her chest rose and fell beside me. "Just a name, please," I begged. "Something to prove, if only to myself, that I haven't made you up."

I saw her swallow. Her lips parted before she spoke. "My name is Taryn."

"Taryn," I repeated, locking it into my mind.

A second later, her hand escaped my grasp with an ease that told me she was never being held against her will. She was halfway down the hall before I could try and stop her again. She was fast.

It was probably just as well. As much as I wanted to find out more about her, it was not the time or place. I was needed elsewhere. I had a family to mourn with. A sister to bury. This girl could wait. I had her name. That would be a start. When there was time, I would find her and figure out what the hell had happened that night.

# CHAPTER TWELVE

## TARYN

WHEN THE BIRDS STARTED in on their damn cheerful song the following morning, I was less than eager to start my day. An entire night pacing in my bedroom, trying to figure what the heck I was going to do about Devlin and Alana, left me weary and stressed.

How could a human see me? That was the first question.

It was followed by many, many others. None of which I had a single answer to.

And then there was that nagging "he's way hotter than I remembered" thought that kept slipping in when I least expected it. I was starting to feel like Tris and my sisters.

"He's just a bloke," I reminded myself and hurried to dress.

There was nothing I could do to figure this out right now, but I wasn't going to let it slide either. I just needed a bit of distraction until I could dig up some answers. Eivin might know something, but I wasn't sure he'd tell me.

Ma's loud argument with my sister Iona in the kitchen masked the sound of my escape through the front door. My da had his nose buried so deep into the mystery novel I'd snuck back from the human realm that he never even noticed me walk by. My other sister Kyna was nowhere to be seen, so I was sure she was up to no good.

No one heard me as I crouched low under the front window and then hurried to the rear of the house. The sun had only just begun to sink below the horizon. Soon, the shadows would conceal me.

It was easy to get lost in my city of Eimear, a bustling hub, teeming with merchants arriving from distant lands at all times of the day and night. The sound of horses' hooves and the creaking of wooden carts called me forward. I leapt over muddy puddles and trod carefully around steaming piles of horse dung in the road. Walking past long row-houses with small gardens, I headed towards the markets, allowing my nose to guide me.

The city centre was a booming market for trade, labor, and general mischief. I usually held an affinity for the latter.

My boots rattled the loose boards as I passed the docks and then swung north. Dunleary Castle sat high on the hill behind me, a regal mansion of stone and fathomless age, lit by rows of torches. I had heard tales that the castle was forged by the first among the gods. I didn't know if the tales were true, but I liked to think they were. That at least would be far more interesting than the snotty royals who lived within their walls now.

"Over here!" Eivin rounded the corner ahead of me and hopped over the crumbling stone wall at the back of Malachy's fish market.

"I was wondering if you were going to show this time.

"I know. I'm sorry. I've been pulling double shifts." He held up his hands. "I'm here to make up for it. Ya asked me to train ya, and I will. No holding back, just like ya asked."

"Alright." I pulled my dress up over my head.

Eivin laughed when he saw my leathers.

"I shoulda known you'd have another pair squirreled away somewhere."

I grinned and patted my dagger. "Are we gonna talk or fight?"

"Are you sure you're ready?"

The challenge in his voice didn't hold its mocking tone. I knew then that he'd be true to his word. No holding back. For the first time I'd get a proper fight.

"Aye. I was born ready."

"I bought these for ya."

I tugged on the gauntlets Eivin handed to me. The leather clasped to my wrists and wove up my arm to secure below my elbow. The boiled hide was strong and thick. Soon enough it would mold to my skin. Like my new leathers.

My halter top was form-fitting. My skirt was short and pleated with strips of crimson cloth. My laced boots rose to my knees, hugging my calves.

It took me nearly two full moons to find a leather trader willing to deal with a girl, let alone one capable of designing a set of leathers for one. Eivin had stamped on my toe when I bucked at the exorbitant price I was quoted. I knew I was being gouged, but each morning when I slipped into my battle armor, I knew it was worth every soul I had to ferry to pay for it.

The leathers, though made by the same designer as my former pair, felt different against my skin. Maybe it was just because I hadn't had a chance to break them in. Maybe they just made me feel more exposed than my former fighting apparel.

I missed pants.

A thick plaited necklace hung from my neck. Eivin made it from strips of leather and the bits of bone from the Lorcan who attacked me. He even made a set of earrings to match. They were a peace offering that I refused to acknowledge but felt bound to wear them. To some it might seem gruesome, but I wore it with pride. It was a reminder that I survived and it didn't.

Eivin waited for my signal to begin. I reached for the sheath at my side and drew my glass dagger, holding it at waist height. "Ready."

I blinked and nearly missed Eivin's dive. Taking the brunt of the impact in my stomach, I curled my spine as we slammed to the ground. Using my momentum, I knocked him aside. He was on his feet and crouched low by the time I turned to thrust out my leg.

Eivin knew me too well. Called me predictable. I hated it. He knew that as well.

"Too slow." He grabbed my leg and tossed it aside. Then he held out a length of fabric to me. "Put this on. The Lorcan are smarter than ya think. Learn to hunt with your other senses and ya might live."

He tied the cloth around my head for me.

"Eivin, I'm blind." No light peeked through the thick, scratchy fabric. How was I supposed to fight if I couldn't see what was coming for me?

"Feel your body. Move with your breathing. Ground yourself."

Not being able to see him was infuriating. He couldn't seriously expect me to fight like this. The instant I heard the scuff of his boot against the ground I knew he wasn't bluffing. I turned my hips and swung out my blade aimlessly. He caught my wrist in his hand.

"How did I best you?" he whispered.

"Ya don't have a bloody blindfold on, that's how," I grumbled.

His voice sounded beside my cheek. "I allowed you to hear me. A Lorcan is a crafty bugger. Do not let it lead you into a trap."

Focusing on the winds funneling off the bay instead of the beating of my own heart, all I wanted to do was give him a good smack. I heard his movement a split second before his boot slammed into my stomach and I hurtled backwards. My head bounced off a wooden crate.

"Again."

Eivin wasn't joking when he said he wouldn't hold back. My ass was killing me after that hit. Thank the gods I chose not to eat dinner or it would be all over the alley right now.

The next strike came at the edge of his blade and cut a line into my thigh. The instant I tried to react and cover the wound he elbowed me in the stomach and kicked me to the ground.

"Never show weakness. To do so gives a Lorcan the advantage."

I grunted and pushed myself back to my feet. I was really getting tired of this damn blindfold.

"I won't be blind when I'm fightin' one."

"And if it attacks ya at night? They blend in, Ryn. Don't ya be forgettin' their blood. One wee splash in your eyes and you're a goner. If ya want me to train ya like a proper reaper then follow my orders."

Eivin had been stern in the past, but this was a bit much. Instead of questioning him and risking another sucker punch, I bit my lip and raised my dagger. As he shifted away, I strained to hear any hint of his whereabouts. And that was when I caught the faintest hint of his leathers rubbing. He was right in front of me.

I swung my blade and heard him grunt. Advancing without thought, I drove my shoulder hard into him, pushing him back against the wall. Then I ran my boot down his inner calf. His second grunt of pain was both satisfying and weird. I felt guilt and pride mingle together as I jabbed him in the ribs and then backed away.

"Aye," he coughed out. "That was a skilled attack."

I balanced my weight, remaining light on the balls of my feet, but he seemed to need a minute to catch his breath again.

"Lorcan are cunning beasts. They will root out your weakness, so show them none. Stay unpredictable."

Suddenly, I heard Eivin dart to my right. I reacted instinctively and landed a kick perfectly in the crook of his knee. He crumpled to the ground with a load groan.

"Yes!" I tore off my blindfold and raised my hands overhead in victory, only to find myself hurtling towards the ground a second later. Blood stained my teeth as they sank into my lower lip when I hit.

I rolled to my side and spat. "What the hell was that for?"

"Don't get cocky," Eivin reprimanded as he leaned down over me. "Never drop your guard until you bind it."

I shoved my hair out of my eyes, breathing hard to ignore the pain. "We shouldn't be binding 'em, cousin. We should be killing 'em."

Eivin hesitated before shaking his head. "That is not our way, Ryn, and you know it. We capture to release them to Hollow Earth. Those are the king's orders."

Pushing up to a seated position, I was careful not to wrap my hands over my bruised ribs and betray my weakness. Eivin would only exploit it and use it as another teaching tool later.

"Every Lorcan that passes through that veil is a threat. We could end this war before it even began if we whittled down their numbers."

"Keep your voice down," he hissed and glanced back towards the alley to make sure we were still hidden from sight before he moved closer.

"You can feel them. I know ya can. Their rage is growing. Soon enough, binding won't help ya. They must die by our swords."

"Enough," he growled and pushed past me.

"What are ya so afraid of?"

"You dying." His shoulders slumped.

"Aye, but you won't be letting that happen, now will ya?" When I placed a hand on his shoulder, he shrugged it off.

He refused to look at me when he spoke again. "The next time you see a Lorcan, you'll do what I do. You run, Ryn, and don't ya be lookin' back."

I'd never known Eivin to back down from an honest fight. It wasn't in his nature. For him to even suggest running as an option for himself shocked me.

"Is it the king who has you running scared? He is just a man."

"No," he roared and spun to look at me. "He is far more than that. Don't ya get it? He wasn't born into his seat on the throne. He took it by force with the money he got from marrying the queen and made himself a god. A man like that will do anythin' to silence the likes of you and me if he feels threatened. So you run when I tell ya to run. Understood?"

I frowned. "The truth has to be shared. You said earlier that I was right. Were ya fibbing to me, cousin?"

Eivin looked away. "Some costs are too high to pay."

"What are you talking about?" I stretched out my hand to take hold of his arm, but he pulled away.

"It's nothing."

"Don't you be lying to me. I know you better than anyone else." I didn't like the way he kept his face hidden in the growing shadows.

When I tried to reach out for him again, he seized my hand and shoved it away, spinning me so hard that I slammed into a stack of crates lining the wall behind me. I turned my nose up at the scent of yesterday's catch.

A sharp sting raced across my cheek a second later and I barely had a chance to get my blade up to counter his next attack.

"Be on your guard at all times." He growled and pressed me back against the wall. "Trust no one."

I kneed him in the groin. The instant he released me I shoved him back and pressed my blade to his throat.

"Are you meaning that I canna be trustin' you as well?"

When he swallowed, his Adam's apple grazed the edge of my dagger. "What do ya think?"

I stared at him long and hard then shifted the blade in my hand to hit him with a right hook that he could have easily dodged, but he didn't.

"You want to know what I think? I think you're scared and you're trying to push me away. To put distance between us. And that's a shite move coming from you."

Eivin turned his head to the side and spat out a small glob of blood onto the ground.

"You're a right arse." I pushed back and slid my dagger into the sheath at my hip, then turned to retrieve my dress.

"Aye, I am. And for good cause." He suddenly sounded so deflated. "I didn't mean for it to go this way."

I wadded up my dress, not looking forward to having to put it on again. It was itchy. "Cryptic messages aren't you, Eivin."

"I'll stop being cryptic when ya stop being so bloody cocky."

A small smile tugged at my lips. I couldn't help it when I saw a glimpse of the boy I knew and loved peek out. "I wasn't."

"You were." He didn't look away. "Stop letting things distract ya from what's right in front of ya."

"Meaning?"

"A life." He stepped closer. "You still have a chance to let the rumours fade and keep your head down long enough that maybe the king will forgive what ya have done."

The look in his eye worried me. There was no fear to be seen. Only pleading.

"Something has happened. What aren't ya telling me?"

For every step he took forward I stepped back.

"You've been too careless, cousin. I know what you've done," he accused. "Think of your family. Do you really want to see them banished alongside ya?"

"I won't be banished. And neither will they." I should have known he'd find out about Alana. I wasn't meant to help her see her brother or let her linger in the Eimear, but I couldn't let her go just yet. I needed to know more about Devlin. "I'm being careful."

"Like hell you are!" He closed the gap between us. "I followed you to that cancer centre to make sure you were safe, Ryn. I know a human saw you. He touched you and you did nothin'."

My mouth fell open. I tried to speak, but my frustration at his invasion of my privacy was hard to hold back. Not to mention I had no way to deny his allegations.

"How could ya let this happen?"

"It's not like I planned for this—" I stopped in mid-sentence. "You knew it could happen, didn't ya? That some humans can see us."

Eivin shifted uncomfortably. "No."

"Aye, you did. You're lying to me again." I pressed forward this time, jabbing him in the chest with my finger. "How could you not tell me?"

"I've heard rumours, nothing more."

I closed my eyes, thinking back to how conflicted I had been when Devlin touched me. About how I'd spent an entire night obsessing over it. I knew the moment he took my hand that the hatred I'd been building against him for aiding the king was all a lie. He was nothing more than a human, Alana's brother. A man who somehow managed to breach the veil between our two worlds.

That had to mean something.

We'd been told our entire lives that it could never happen, but staring into the hollowness that took up residence in Eivin's face, I knew this was just another lie. He knew something.

"Is he the one you saw after the Lorcan attack?" he asked. "The one who tried to get help for ya?"

"Aye." I nodded and began fumbling with the lace collar of my dress that I still held tightly in my hands. Ma would kill me for wrinkling it so badly, but I needed to strangle something and Eivin wasn't an option...at least not until he gave me the answers I needed.

Eivin sighed and leaned back against the wall. "And you assumed he was a reaper."

"I couldn't have known he was a human, could I? By the time I realised the truth of it he confronted me."

"Did anyone else see?"

"I don't think so." It was hard to remember every little detail of what happened once the shock of who and what he was finally sank in. "The other banshees were still collectin'."

Eivin plunged his hands into his hair, tugging slightly until he released his hold with a heavy sigh. "I'd wager you got off on this one since you're not rottin' in the dungeon right now."

"This wasn't my fault! If you weren't keepin' all these secrets from me I might have not walked in blind like that."

"Keep your voice down," he hissed again.

We both ducked as a man passing the alley peered into the darkness, but we were out of sight, tucked into our small corner. When he had passed, I released a shaky breath.

"I need the truth, Eivin."

He shook his head. "It's not for me to tell."

"Like hell it isn't!" I gripped his arm tight. "You owe me this."

"Aye." He sighed and his shoulders slumped. "I canna tell you much. Just that it's happened before. Some call it the balance, a way of keeping our world in line with the humans. Without that...chaos."

"Is that what's happenin' now? Chaos?"

Eivin looked hard at me. "Ya need to start acceptin' that this is bigger than us. There are forces at work that we canna be messin' with. Promise me ya won't be going back for him, Ryn. I know you and the way your fool mind works. Let it go before something ya do just makes things worse."

"You can't be serious. A human can actually see me and ya just want me to walk away? This is historic!"

"No." He took hold of my hand. "It's suicide. You're already dancing with the Devil. Don't give the king a reason to toss your family over the wall with ya."

I sobered at his words, but Devlin could be the answer to so many things.

"I know that look." Eivin shook his head. "You're not going to listen to me, are you?"

"I'm sorry." I smirked. "Were ya saying something?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line. I could tell he still wasn't telling me everything. Moving to stand next to him, I pressed my shoulder against his arm and leaned in.

"I promise I'll behave if ya tell me what's really eating at ya."

"You're crossing your fingers behind your back."

When he laughed softly, I nudged him. "Stop stalling."

Leaning his head back against the wall, he spoke to the night, "I'm being sent to the front lines, Ryn. We leave tomorrow morning."

"What?" I thrust away from him. This couldn't be happening. Not now. "You're the best reaper we've bloody well got."

"We both know that's not why." Eivin's dimples disappeared when he grimaced. "You made waves, little cousin. I'm being removed to keep you silent."

He placed his hands on my arms. "That's why I'll be needin' ya to be careful. You canna risk the lives of your family for a fool's errand."

My nails dug into my arms as I hugged myself. Too many men had walked the narrow path leading to the Wall these last few months. None had yet to return. "How long will ya be gone?"

The desolation in his face told me all I needed to know. He wasn't coming back. Ever.

My throat clenched as I watched him fumble with the silver ring sitting on his middle finger—his family crest. It was a physical reminder of the burden as eldest son to bring honour to his family. "I swore an oath to serve and I canna go back on that now."

"You'll die."

"Maybe." He looked down at me. "But I'll also be holding the line for ya. I get to keep ya safe."

"Don't—" My voice cracked as I threw myself into his arms, burying my face in his chest.

"Hey." He waited for me to dry my tears before he lifted my chin and tried to smile, but it fell flat. "I'm a good fighter. I'll come back to ya. I swear it."

We both knew that no fate was certain, especially not in the Hollow Lands. The barren earth was riddled with dangers, many of which I could only imagine. My own da fought in skirmishes during his time and returned home a broken man.

"I love you, Ryn. Never forget that." Eivin tightened his embrace. He lingered a moment longer before turning and grabbing his pack and sword. I hadn't thought anything of it when I saw it, but now I saw a bed roll added to the bundle.

"May we meet again soon," he called over his shoulder.

Hiking his leg, he pushed over the half wall and was gone. I could tell by the movement in his shoulders that he was crying. When he left in the morning, I knew I'd never see him again.

# CHAPTER THIRTEEN

## TARYN

A LIGHT DRIZZLE HOVERED over the city like an oppressive blanket, threadbare in places and in others too thick to make out a single brick. The ground-cover glowed with the light of flickering street lamps, all lit early today for the king and queen's departure. They would lead the reapers to the edge of town to bid them farewell on their journey to the Wall.

The streets were abuzz with activity. I could hear the murmurs from below but didn't care to join in. I needed to be alone, but I had to see Eivin off. I owed him that much, even though I knew it would rip a hole in my chest to watch.

He wouldn't be able to see me perched on top of the old mill roof, but he would know I was here, somewhere. Wrapping my arms around myself, I sank down onto the peak and threw my legs over either side to steady myself.

The thatched roof boasted a hint of warmth from the sun trapped behind the wall of mist that had fallen over the city. I leaned over the edge to peer down at the streets below. This street led past my house and directly up the hill to the front gates of the castle. Tris always whined about how lucky I was to live so close to the royals. She had this harebrained idea that living near the castle was somehow the same as living within its stone walls.

It truth, the ancient stone surrounding Dunleary Castle was high and nearly as thick as a man. It allowed zero line of sight into the grounds unless you happened to walk by when a guard wasn't stationed there staring back at you. From time to time, you could spy a manicured bush or the sparkling glint of water off the fountain within, but no one ever got to see anything more than that. I might live near the castle, but there was absolutely nothing exciting about that.

I looked up when the great black wrought iron gates at the top of the hill swept open with a thundering clatter that I felt in my chest. A procession of horses emerged first. Each stallion in the royal guard was chosen for its exquisite breeding, standing no less than eighteen hands high. Their manes were shiny and black as ink, woven with tiny silver bells and ribbons. The knights who followed clanged loudly in their heavy metal armor. The surfaces were polished so that the flickering torchlight sent brilliant colours reflecting into the faces of those grappling to reach the front row along the road.

Handkerchiefs and scarves waved in the air, creating a mass of colour as the procession moved forward to reveal a round carriage. Its wheels were inlaid with the finest bronze; its doors intricately carved and stained a rich cherry. Two knights perched on a bench at the front of the carriage, each wearing a plume of scarlet feathers on their helmets.

I stared at the queen, begrudgingly admiring the waves of fire that spilled down over her shoulders. Her smile was as wide as the Bannow Sea and dripped with poisoned honey. Despite her beauty, all I saw when I looked at her were lies, deceit, and cover-ups that had now forced Eivin into an impossible situation.

It should have been me who was punished. I rubbed a thumb along the scar on my face and sighed, feeling like my wounds weren't nearly enough to equal Eivin's lot.

King Baylor sat beside his wife, waving with a regal air. His face looked drawn and his hair far more gray than I remembered the last time I saw him. That had been two years ago. The day Prince Aed was given control of Hollow Earth on his eighteenth name day. The entire realm came to see him off, with a battalion of reapers standing behind.

I looked closer, no longer at the royals but at the guards who came after. Those men were on foot, dressed in black boiled leathers. Their boots were worn and their faces grim. Strong hands clasped sword hilts as they marched forward. There was no fanfare or regal suits of armor for these men.

There, in the middle of the group of nearly twenty reapers, I spied Eivin. His tangle of blond hair was easily seen among the ruggedly groomed men. He did not look up at where I sat as he passed by. He remained focused, his gaze intent only on the back of the carriage.

Pride swelled in my chest at the sight of him. The royals didn't deserve him.

It would be a hard walk, taking nearly three full days to reach the borders of the Hollow Lands where the great Wall rose high enough to disappear into the clouds.

I looked away as the parade weaved around the corner, trailing beyond the docks towards the northernmost city gate. The light of their torches was lost to me. The townspeople lowered their scarves and returned to their work days, most untouched by the loss of these great men.

The soldiers would be remembered for a time, longer by family members, but even that would fade. Wiping tears from my eyes, I vowed to never stop hoping that Eivin would return. He was a strong fighter, cunning, and swift on his feet. If anyone could survive the hells of Hollow Earth, it would be him.

Looking out across the town, I felt loneliness press in on me and my thoughts returned to Devlin. Was this how he felt after his sister passed? I had seen humans mourn before, but had never felt the touch of death personally. Though Eivin was alive, with each step he took away from me, he might as well have already been dead.

Wiping tears from my eyes, I knew I had duties elsewhere. Alana would need to be collected after her final processing. Then she would be assigned to her boat and her journey to the City of Finals would begin. I owed that to her and now to Devlin. He was the only one who in that very moment understood the pain I felt. And whether Eivin would like it or not, I felt a kinship to the human.

I slid down the roofline and leapt onto a lower wall. Holding my hands out on either side of me, I ran the short distance to the fence and shimmied to the ground.

The remainder of my afternoon was spent filing paperwork, preparing Alana for her passage across the turbulent Bannow Sea, and finally, I waved goodbye. Watching her smile as she bounced on her toes with excitement as she moved into line, I felt the hollow ache in my chest and wished I too could have the sadness in my heart wiped clean.

As the sun began to set, I walked along the shore of the sea, moving farther away from the city to find a solitary place to be alone. I watched the great silvery sails begin to rise along the birch mast of a boat, whipped by the rising winds, and turned away. I wondered if she was on that one. There were so many in line. She might have been delayed.

Taking to a narrow path that led farther along the shore, I walked with no destination in mind beyond just getting away. The sea was turbulent. Violet-tinted clouds hung low over the water as I reached the end of the inlet and moved around the end, where the sea spread out wide before me. I could smell rain in the air and wrapped my cloak tighter around my shoulders. Streaks of lightning licked the mountaintops on the horizon, sparking against granite rocks. That was where the Hollow Lands lay, and the closest point I had ever come to the forsaken lands.

Spreading my arms wide, I leaned into the rising gusts, savoring the salty spray against my face and wiping away my tears. I closed my eyes and listened to the waves crashing against the rocks below.

I loved it here. There was something about the raging torrent of these waters that called to my soul. Curling my arms inwards, I sank down onto the rock, its surface smoothed from years of shifting tides. I tucked my knees into my chest and waited for Alana's boat to appear.

A tempest approached from the west as I waited. Thunder rolled across the darkening sky. On a calm day, you could hear the screams of the Lorcan rising against the winds across the channel. Nothing could be heard over the winds today.

The first droplets of rain pattered against my head just moments after I spotted the front of the ship. Its bow was a brilliant white against the darkness that fell over the sea. Beads of water slid down the ridge of my neck and I drew my hood up over my head. I knew I should leave before I was trapped in the coming deluge, but I needed to see her off.

The love between the siblings was unbreakable, even by death. I admired that. I also envied such a love. I had experienced great joy with Eivin, but what Devlin and Alana shared surpassed that.

"I knew I'd find ya here." I turned at the voice. Through the constant drizzle of rain, I spied Tris emerging from the narrow pass. "This has been your hiding spot since we were wee little things."

"Did Ma send you?"

"Course she did. Can't have you out here moping in the rain, now can we?" She planted her hands on her hips.

Not even the shapeless cloak could conceal her beauty and I felt a moment of annoyance. If she spent half as much time paying attention to what was happening around her as she did with primping in the mirror maybe she'd realise I had every right to be out here alone.

"You need to be coming along now, Taryn."

"I need to be alone for a while."

Tris lowered her gaze. "I heard about Eivin. Ya shoulda told me. I would've gone with ya."

"I know." I swallowed hard. "I had to say goodbye in my own way."

She moved closer, her cloak swaying over her filthy shoes. "Do ya want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Come home, Taryn. Be with your family."

I stared out over the water. "I'm not ready to face Ma's shite today."

"Aw, she's not as bad as you make her out to be," Tris says. "She means well and that's more than most can say."

"Meaning well doesn't mean she understands me."

It also didn't mean Tris did either, even though I knew she was trying. I could have told her right then that my need for solitude wasn't just about escaping my ma's insane scheming, or even about missing Eivin. I could have told her about Alana, about the brave girl I saw so much of myself in, who was being sent away before I even had a chance to get to know her, but I didn't. Tris could never understand my fascination with a human. Just as she could never know about my ability to be seen by Devlin.

"So how'd she get ya to come all the way out here then?" I asked and looked at the waves. Alana's boat had fully appeared, though it would soon be veiled behind sheets of rain.

"You really didn't pick your eyes up off the ground when you headed out here, did ya?" She settled onto a rock beside me. When I showed no expression she shook her head. "The town was all a flutter when the royals returned. There's to be a big announcement from the castle soon. Your ma sent me to retrieve ya so we could be there when it's made."

"No, thank you. I'm in better company right here."

Tris ducked her head low to look under my hood. "Even you must be a little curious. A sudden announcement from the castle? Doesn't happen every day, ya know?"

I would rather swallow a pail of nails than to admit any hint of curiosity, especially if it was something that had put a bee in my ma's bonnet. "I canna go."

"You can and you will. Your ma won't be taking no for an answer and you know it." She drew herself up. "We could be standing on the precipice of history right now and there's no way missin' it."

"Precipice?" My eyebrows hiked with humor at her choice of wording. "It's a distraction to keep people looking the other way. Dangle some shiny thing in front of people's eyes and look at how excited they get."

Tris snorted when I jabbed a finger playfully into her side. "Well, some of us like a bit of good news from time to time."

I tucked my hands under my cloak as the back end of Alana's boat slipped into the storm and disappeared. I sighed and looked away, feeling desperately alone even though my best friend sat beside me.

"Come on. You used to know how to have fun too. I know losing Eivin hurts, but it would do you some good to think about something else instead of sitting out here, depressed and in the rain. We can go back to town, hear the announcement, and then sneak out for some rum. I know a guy who can get us some."

I gave her a wry smile. "Rum? Since when do you drink?"

"Since you became a mopey bugger."

"Fine." I laughed. Maybe she was right. It wouldn't kill me to have an hour away from worrying or plotting. The hole in my heart left from Eivin's leaving would still be there later.

"Really?" She turned on the rock to look at me. "Just like that?"

"Sure. You're right. Maybe it will be good for me."

A chill had begun to sink in through the thick layers of my cloak. With any luck at all I'd catch a cold on the return trip and be too ill with fever to participate whenever this ploy decided to play itself out. At least then I could remind Tris that I tried.

Rising from the rock, I brushed droplets of rain off and leapt to the ground. Tris joined me and worked hard to keep things lighthearted on the return trip. It warmed my heart that she worked so hard to lift my spirits. She knew how much losing Eivin hurt.

My ma, true to her nature, met us at the docks and I couldn't help but notice how busy the port was. Ships lined up in the harbor, sitting low in the water and waiting to unload their wares. Eimear had always been a bustling place, but today there seemed to be a great deal more activity than usual.

"What's going on?" I asked a man as he reached overhead to steady a barrel of fish as it was lowered from a ship's hold.

"Seems to be some big high to do up at the castle," he said through a wide gap in his two front teeth. "The whole town 'as gone mental, if ya ask me."

That was what I was afraid of as I fell in line behind Ma and my sisters as they rapidly marched through the city streets. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen such a spring in my ma's step. Her hair was drawn back from her face with a bright red ribbon, making her cheeks look rosy. Her eyes danced with excitement.

That didn't bode well for me.

Although I didn't have Eivin's good looks, I was, at least, blessed not to have inherited my ma's ample backside or the gobs of freckles that spread across her nose and high cheekbones. They made her look far younger than her eighty years. In human years she might have passed as thirty-five, but we aged differently. I had ancestors who were pushing five hundred and didn't look a day over sixty.

Ma and Da started a bit late in life having children, but I couldn't blame them. With my da away to war for so much of their early years, children weren't a possibility.

Glancing at my sisters as they danced just ahead of me, with Tris' arm looped through theirs, I thought about how I wasn't blessed with Iona's sun-kissed hair. Instead, I'm been given a washed out dirty dishwater sort of blond that made my pale skin look nearly transparent in the wrong lighting. I didn't have Kyna's full hips or ample curves either. My twin sisters' eyes were the same cornflower blue, but mine was a vivid teal with flecks the same colour of the mists of the Netherworld.

Tris used to joke about how freaky my eyes looked, but I liked them. They made me different than everyone else.

Ma always said I took after my da's nature: willing to speak my mind no matter the cost and had a rebellious vein that ran through me, even from my earliest days. While I was the thorn in her side, she doted on my sisters. In her mind, they were the most beautiful, sweet, and obedient children on our street. They were also the most rotten scoundrels you'd ever meet. Only when Ma wasn't looking, of course.

As I passed rows of shops and homes, I stared up at brightly coloured banners being hung out of second-floor windows. Here and there I spied freshly arranged floral bouquets that had been set out on door stoops or fence posts. What was even more surprising was that the stone pavers of the market had been scrubbed. There wasn't a single chicken to be found underfoot and every ounce of horse muck had been removed.

It was as if the entire town had forgotten that only hours before our men walked through the city gates with a death wish. Whatever this was, I was sure it was nothing more than a distraction. Like a master magician, the king was adept at sleight of hand.

When we reached the top of the hill, I looked back behind me and saw people emerging from their homes and hurrying towards the town centre. Each one looked fresh faced with eagerness.

"We canna be late," Ma called back over her shoulder and kicked it into high gear, despite the steep incline we were on.

I dug my feet into the pavement and felt the burn in my calves, cursing anything that popped it my head for adding to this day's misery. Even the humans had cars for rushing about while I got stuck walking. What more could possibly go wrong?

"Watch it," I called out as a pair of giggling girls nearly ran me over when they burst from their house. They swerved to avoid me then gathered their skirts and rushed ahead towards the town centre.

In the distance, I heard the sound of trumpets.

"We're going to miss it, Ma," Iona grumbled and shot a withering glance back at me.

"Don't let me slow ya down." I smiled back and slowed my pace.

Kyna stuck out her tongue at me. I swear that girl would never really grow up.

"Step to it, girls." Ma's breath came out in a huff. This was more exercise than she'd had in years. "Tris, run on ahead, would ya?"

"Sure thing."

I watched as Tris gathered her skirts and sprinted forward, knowing that it had been killing her to remain back with us while the announcement was being made without her. Iona and Kyna broke free of each other and scrambled to follow behind.

I remained back with Ma. Not because I wanted to or felt that I should, but because I was in absolutely no hurry to reach the chaos I could hear two streets over. By the time we arrived, it was the madhouse I had feared. I saw girls swooning, crying, laughing, and patting their curled hair. Ma clutched her hands to her chest as she searched for her girls.

"Can ya see 'em?"

I stood a few inches taller than Ma, so I had a better view. "Tris is over there."

"Go see what she's rooted out."

There was no please, no sign of appreciation. Just a command.

"Oy, Tris," I called as I shoved my way through the crowd. "What the bloody hell is going on?"

Several people glanced up at my call. A few stared openly at my scarred face. Others noticed but quickly returned to their celebrations.

Tris broke away from a group of her friends and practically skipped back to my side. "You are not gonna believe it. Prince Aed has been called back from the Wall. He's throwing a royal ball in four days' time to choose himself a bride!"

I stopped in my tracks. "You're joking."

"I would never!" She looked horrified at the thought.

When I saw Ma shoving her way ungracefully through the wall of swooning girls, I knew I had about five seconds before the gig was up.

"Do me a favor?" I grabbed onto Tris' arm. "Give me a head start."

"On what?" she called when I started to run, but I didn't answer. I just ran, ducking and weaving through the crowd. By the time I was free of the madness I found the remaining streets of my city nearly abandoned. I looked all around, trying to think of anywhere I could go to be alone.

I could go to the fish shop that Eivin and I practiced behind, but it felt too soon to see it. I needed somewhere safe, somewhere emotionally neutral.

"Taryn!" I turned and saw Tris pushing her way towards me with my ma dragging my sisters behind.

I saw by the look on Tris' face that she knew I was about to bolt. Ma shouted for me, but I wasn't about to stick around and let her drag me into a discussion about ribbons and dresses and makeup. I had no intention of being paraded around like a simpering ninny.

So I ran to the only other place I felt like I could be alone...to the human realm.

# CHAPTER FOURTEEN

## DEVLIN

FROM THE DARKNESS OF my room, I saw there was a light snow falling over Ireland, draping the morning in a thin blanket of white. The flakes succeeded in covering the dirt and grime of the land, making everything glow. It was the type of rare snowfall Alana would have loved.

The house had grown cold in the two days since we'd been back. Somehow it felt wrong to care about keeping comfortable anymore. Da finally broke down and started a fire, but the warmth hadn't reached me. I wasn't sure it ever would again.

After Alana's death, I didn't leave my room. I couldn't even go to the funeral. My body refused to move from my bed. I was torn between anger and depression. A very dangerous place to live for long. The only thing that brought me any sort of relief was when my thoughts lingered on the mystery girl from the hospital. Taryn.

I shook my head when I caught myself thinking of her. It wasn't the time to think about some bird. And yet my thoughts kept wandering back to her. To those warm blue eyes. They threatened to pull focus from where it should be. On my grieving. I chided myself again. There would be plenty of time to track her down after the wake.

The wake. I couldn't go. How could I? If I went down those stairs, I'd see all of the food lying in wait. Each dish meticulously covered with plastic wrap or tin foil in anticipation of the feast. The tea kettle would be set to simmer with all of our mismatched china and silver. In a matter of hours, the house would fill with those who knew Alana. The same people who didn't care enough to visit her when she was sick, but now come out of their own guilt. They'd fill their faces with the food Ma slaved over and the liquor Da bought with his hard-earned wages. After a few drinks, they'd forget they were supposed to be in mourning. The sound of inadvertent laughter would escape even the best-intended lips.

How could I stand that? Laughter. Conversation. It would drift up to my room and I'd hear it whether I wanted to or not. I couldn't bear that. I wasn't ready.

Grabbing my jacket, I left the safety of my room and raced down the stairs. My hand was on the door when Ma came into the room.

"Devlin? Where are you going? The wake—"

I opened the door. "I'm going for a walk."

"Devlin..."

Hovering in the doorway, I almost turned around. The hurt in her voice was palpable.

"I just can't right now, Ma. I can't be in a room filled with people who didn't love Alana the way we did. I need to be alone for a few minutes." Without waiting for her response, I walked out of our house, making a beeline for the road that led away from town. Not even the pub could cure the ache in my chest. With each step, I could feel the guilt mounting. I was responsible in a way. I convinced my parents to go through with the procedure. I caused my sister undue suffering. Or I let her finally rest...My mind warred with me about which was the truth. Little matter it made now.

What I wouldn't give to slam my fist into a punching bag. I had so much anger inside and no good way to release it.

I slowed my pace as I got closer to the McBride farm. I spotted a bit of buttery yellow flowers poking out from the snow: Celandine. Alana's favourites.

It was as though it was a sign from God. This was why my feet led me here. I needed to bring these flowers to her. I needed to finally visit her grave and pay my respects.

Jumping over the stone wall, my feet crunched against the snow coated blades of grass. I sank down to the earth, ignoring the chill of the snow against my knees. I brushed the soft powder from the flower's delicate petals. So fragile, but as bright as the sun. Exactly as she had been.

Ripping a small patch of earth from the cold ground, I cradled the stems in my arms as though holding a precious cargo. With the flowers in hand, I walked towards the cemetery. It was a path I knew well as I walked it almost every day. Seamus lived beyond the cemetery. The three of us created the well-loved path as a shortcut to his house. A sad smile brushed my lips. Alana hated going through the cemetery. She'd always run and hold her breath, worried that the spirits were going to seep into her body and take hold of her soul. Now she was stuck here for all of eternity; mingling with the shadows that used to terrify her.

The gate swung open in the wind of a darkening sky, almost as though it had been anticipating my arrival. Our family plot wasn't far from the entrance, but my feet dragged nevertheless. When I saw the freshly overturned ground where her body had been laid to rest, I stopped. My sister's body was less than a metre away. Though the headstone hadn't arrived yet, I knew where she was buried. I held my breath for a moment as I pulled myself together.

"I got these for you," I croaked out after several minutes. "I nicked them from Mr. McBride's farm like you used to. Don't think he'd mind, do you?"

In the fading light of the night, I noticed dozens of tombstones that jutted up from the ground in odd angles like crooked teeth. Weeping willows surrounded the lot in an unorganized fashion, confirming that the grounds weren't often cared for as the trees were left to grow wild. Alana didn't belong in a dismal place like this. She deserved to live a full and free-spirited life.

Frustrated by my unwieldy emotions, I grabbed hold of a nearby fallen branch and threw it across the cemetery in anger. The sound of the splintering branch as it hit a gravestone brought a small amount of satisfaction. Standing, I looked around, searching for a larger branch. I didn't have to look for long. As I slammed that one into a nearby tree, a memory from my past came rushing forward. One of a nine-year-old Seamus.

It was right after his ma had passed. The day of her funeral, in fact. His da was at the church shaking hands with the other mourners, while Seamus, Alana, and I, all slipped away from the crowd. We had no idea what to say to Seamus. We were so young. We couldn't even wrap our heads around what had happened. He walked about ten steps ahead of us the entire time, but we got the sense that he wanted us there.

About a block from his house, he made a turn down Welch Road. It was a dead end. The Welch house had burnt near to the ground before we were born. Nothing had changed in all those years, but we continued walking with him.

When he got to the house, there wasn't much left but a few half-brick walls that were charred black. Stray bits of what looked like the remains of furniture scattered around. It was little more of a shadow of a place that used to be someone's home. Nature had all but gobbled up what remained.

"Seamus, what are we doing here?" I remembered asking. Beside me, Alana waved at me to stop yakking.

For a bit, Seamus had stared at one of the brick walls. A vacant look on his face. But he had reached down for a loose brick near his feet and thrown it hard against the burnt remains of the fireplace.

I remembered flinching and moving to stop him, but Alana had held me back. Seamus picked up another one and threw it, but this time towards a different wall. Bits of brick chipped away. Over and over he had thrown them until finally Alana walked over to him and took it from his hand. Seamus had been panting with fury but calmed when he saw her. Alana smiled at him, then chucked the brick herself, breaking the sad remains of a window. She spun around to look at Seamus, who had broken out into a smile. For the next several minutes the two of them had taken out their anger on the house. Each of them grunting and screaming while I stood there, too shocked to do anything.

At first, I thought they had both lost their minds. They were screaming like barbarians. After a few minutes, however, I began to see what it was; a release from the pain that had been bottled up.

The hairs along my arms bristled. That was it. That was what I needed. I needed a release like that. Something to chuck. Something that would shatter into a thousand pieces...and I happened to know a place that would do the trick.

With a newfound purpose, I headed back to the house; not to rub elbows with the false mourners. No. What I wanted lay farther out in the back garden.

I pushed the door to my studio open and the hinges cried out in protest. I shrugged out of my coat and placed it on the hook, draping Alana's scarf over it.

In front of me stood the Mecca of all things breakable. Shelf upon shelf of carefully sculpted Madonnas smiled down at me. Below that, angels with their wings spread in joy as they mingled with the squat fat Buddhas. All of the sculptures mocked my pain with their superficial grins.

Shaking with anticipation, I scanned the shelves for a piece I could smash. Just one. One sacrifice to release my rage at the unfairness of her passing. My eyes fell on a large Native American inspired pot that I threw for a gallery showing next month. It was about three feet tall and had a nice, thick middle. Perfect shattering material. Granted, that piece took me almost two weeks to finish, but I needed to see it destroyed more than I needed the paycheck.

I grabbed the step-stool from under the table and lifted the vase precariously off the top-shelf. The pot would easily fetch five hundred euros at the auction. Probably more. Right now I didn't care about what it was worth. I could make it again in my sleep. Raising it over my head, I paused.

"Let's see if you were right about this, Seamus."

My hands descended so fast that I didn't have time to second-guess my decision. In seconds the pot shattered to oblivion, creating the most wonderful sound I'd ever heard.

Seamus was right. This felt good.

I bent down and picked up the bottom chunk of the pot that remained intact and threw it down again, savouring its destruction. I wanted more.

My eyes darted around, looking for something else. Something small. Or several small things, I smiled, spying a row of cherub figurines. God, I hated making those. I sold a part of my soul each time I made one.

Suddenly enraged, I grabbed a broom and swept the end of it along the entire top shelf. The resulting crashes obliterated a thousand euros' worth of commissions.

"Why?" I shouted. My fist came down onto my bench, making the tools there dance upwards for a moment.

"Why did you take her away from me?" I felt blood rushing into my temples. Heat climbed up my neck and into my face. "It should have been me!"

I reached up to grab another piece when I saw something through the window. Though the sun was fading fast, I could tell it was a person. Probably someone from the wake who had heard my destruction.

"Shove off!" I shouted to whoever was out there, but they didn't move. I walked closer to the window, ready to tear into the bloke and froze.

"Taryn?" Wide teal eyes stared back at me. She took a step back and quickly turned to leave. "No, Taryn. Wait. Come back!"

Rushing outside, I searched for her.

"Taryn!" My eyes whipped up and down the length of our drive, trying to figure out where she had disappeared to when I heard the sound of feet against the crunch of the frozen ground behind me. She was there, headed towards the woods.

I called out her name again. She stopped but didn't turn around. Her shoulders were tense, though, like she wasn't planning on staying for long.

"I shouldn't have pried. I'll be going now," she said with her back still towards me.

"No. I'm glad you did." I took a few tentative steps in her direction. "I thought you were some drunk from my sister's wake. That's all."

She turned then. A look of uncertainty lived there.

"I'm glad it was you," I said.

Her lips curled into a sad smile before she looked down at the ground.

"I was comin' to pay my respects," she said, gesturing to the house. "I owed it to Alana."

I nodded and took another step towards her.

"Thank you." Her eyes found mine and I held her gaze in place, praying she wouldn't leave again. My eyes darted down to find that she was wearing that silver dress and cloak again. Although the cloak was closed at the neck, I could make out an intricately designed necklace of thick red and black beads. It coiled around her neck like a python would around its prey. It gave her a regal like appearance that I hadn't noticed before. She kept her head tilted away from me, hiding the black marks I knew lived around the tranquil blue of her left eye. Her scars fascinated me. From the way she held her head turned away from me, I could tell she was ashamed of them, or at the very least, was trying to hide them from me. She likely had no idea how stunning they made her look. They were a part of her, just as much as the fierceness that lived inside of her. Guarded as she was when she was near me, I couldn't help but want to know her better.

"You're not inside," she said, bringing my eyes back up to hers.

I shook my head. "I needed to blow off a little steam," I said, cringing, wondering what she must have thought of me for such childish behavior.

"So I saw." This time, she took a step closer to me. "Did ya make all of those?" she asked, gesturing to my studio.

It was my turn to look away. "Aye. I'm a sculptor. When I'm not helping out in my da's shop." I brought my eyes back up and noticed she was tilting her head to the side.

"It's fascinating."

"What is?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "To see that your kind is capable of such beauty and such destruction, too."

"My kind?"

Her eyes widened a bit. "As an artist, I mean."

I laughed. "True. We are a pretty unpredictable lot."

She nodded and took the smallest of steps away from me. I didn't like the retreat, however small.

"Do you want to go inside with me? I'll admit, I haven't wanted to go in, but it might be bearable if you were with me."

She looked at the house then back at me, seemingly confused.

"There's a ton of food in the house, and I'm sure my folks would love to meet a friend of Alana's."

"Oh. No. I canna stay. I shouldn't even be here..." She turned to leave.

"No. Wait. Stay. We don't have to go in," I said, afraid I had scared her off again.

Her retreat had already begun. "This was a mistake. It's late and I need to be gettin' back."

"Taryn, why did you come if you didn't want to pay your respects?" I asked, stalling for time.

She swallowed hard. "I guess...I guess I just needed to know that you were okay. Are you? Are ya alright?"

Her interest in my well-being confused me. "Is anyone ever okay at a time like this?"

"No." She wrapped her arms around herself. "Not really."

Something about the way she was holding herself made me want to take her into my arms and hold her. Though I could tell she was strong physically, there was an internal battle waging behind her eyes. It was a battle I knew well.

"How did you know my sister?" I asked. "I've been trying to place you since the first time we met and I can't figure out how she would know you. Did you meet at the hospital?"

She smiled. "Aye. That we did." Her shoulders righted themselves. "I really have to go now. Take care of yourself." She turned and began walking for the woods.

"Wait. You're leaving?"

"Goodbye, Devlin."

I started after her, my shoes slipping as I walked. My fingers were freezing and my whole body was covered in gooseflesh, but I didn't want her to go.

"When will I see you again?" I shouted.

She kept walking.

"Taryn!"

Her feet stopped and she glanced over her shoulder at me. "How about ya stop hiding and go into your sister's wake?"

She had me pegged. "Aye. And if I do? Will you come 'round tomorrow, then?"

I could hear her laugh as she turned away.

I took that laugh to be a 'yes.'

# CHAPTER FIFTEEN

## DEVLIN

AFTER TARYN LEFT, I forced myself back into the house. She was right. I had been hiding. It was time to face my demons and stop being so bloody selfish.

There was nothing but relief on Ma's face when I came in. She was exhausted from keeping up appearances and Da was useless in the kitchen, so I sent them both off to bed. I had no problems telling the lingering mourners to shove off. Those who hung around were only interested in downing as much of my da's spirits as they could, so I cared little if their feelings got hurt.

I woke early the next morning and began wrapping food that hadn't been finished or tossing another casserole that wouldn't fit in the icebox. There was enough food to feed us for a month. While Ma and Da slept the morning away, I washed all the tea cups and plates that had been left scattered in the house. I moved furniture pieces back to their rightful spots and opened the blinds. It was all in an effort to try and make things appear as though they were normal, even though nothing could be further from the truth. Nothing would ever be the same again. Not now.

The afternoon passed in a blur of pleasantries with my parents and re-cleaning things that didn't need it. We were all trying to keep our minds off the subject at hand: Alana was no longer with us. Once everything was put back in order, however, my brain had time to unravel. It was no longer preoccupied with utilitarian jobs. Now it was free to think about accepting a life without her.

I held out hope that sleep would be a release from the thoughts, but I couldn't fall asleep. My mind kept drifting not only to Alana and the heartbreak that brought with it but also with memories of Taryn. It was an odd juxtaposition of feelings to have. On the one hand, I was devastated that my sister was gone. But on the other, I was filled with a sense of lightness by this mysterious girl. She fascinated me in a way I couldn't explain from the first time she fell into my arms. Alana would have said it was fate. That she always prattled on about how people were put in our lives for a purpose. I just didn't know what Taryn's was supposed to be.

It wasn't until I heard the sound of someone banging on my door that I realised how tired I still was.

"Go away, Ma. I don't want breakfast," I grumbled, shoving my head back under the pillow.

"Devlin. Open up." The words were muffled, but I recognized Seamus' deep voice.

"Shove off, mate. I'm still sleeping."

"I know, but it's five o'clock in the bloody afternoon."

I lifted the pillow off my eyes. "It is?"

He opened the door. "Aye." He looked worse than I felt. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles underneath.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, sitting up and rubbing my eyes.

"Ouch. That's a warm welcome. Look, I know you think I'm a giant coward for not showing up here a wee bit sooner, but is that any way to talk to your mate?" Seamus came in and sat in a chair.

It was weird seeing him in my room after so much time had passed. So much had happened between us since Alana got sick, but it also felt like we had picked up where we left off. It was nice to have him back in my life, however fleeting that might be. "Sorry. I'm in a mood."

"So I've been told," he said.

"Who told you that?"

Seamus made a face, indicating he'd let something slip.

"Your ma called. She's worried about ya. They both are."

I let out a breath and cursed.

"I'm fine. I'm...well, mourning. That's normal."

"They showed me your studio..."

My eyes pinched shut at the reminder of that. While I hadn't forgotten what I'd done, I was trying not to think about it. I rubbed my hands over my face. All that work. Gone.

"Aye. I may have lost my temper."

Seamus let out a low whistle. "Bet it felt good, though."

I nodded as we shared a moment of grief.

"I should have been there for ya," he said, looking down at the ground. "I should have been there for the both of you."

I nodded. "Aye. You should have." I knew this was hard for him to admit. "But what's done is done. It won't bring her back. And as much as part of me wants to hate you till the end of our days for what you've done, I've also missed my best mate."

Seamus looked up at me.

"I'll make it up to ya," he began.

"You can make it up to me by not disappearing on me again."

His slow nod confirmed that we had reached an understanding. At least for now.

"So you don't hate me?" Seamus asked. His eyes were wide, like a lost puppy waiting to be adopted, not quite daring to hope.

"No. I don't hate ya. But I do think you're a bloody tosser for getting me out of bed."

The small smile that crept on his lips let me know we'd patched things up. We would pick up where we left off before Alana got sick. There was a relief in that. I'd missed the bloke.

"Fair enough. I admit to being a tosser," Seamus said, "but what does that make you?"

"Depressed. It makes me depressed. Happy?"

"Ah, depressed, are ya? Well, don't worry. I'll be okay."

I peered up at him.

"What are you going on about?" I asked.

"Well, you said you were depressed. So that must mean that you're sad about leaving me here in Moneyglass while you go off and finally find your fame and fortune in America. You're worried I'll lose my shite if you go off and leave me alone too, aren't ya?" Seamus asked. "Well, you don't need to worry about me. I'm planning on finding me a nice girl, squeezing out a few lads and then dying so you can go off and live you wild American dream." Seamus propped his feet up on my desk as though that settled matters.

"Har, har. Very funny. I'm never going to America. I withdrew my deferred acceptance."

Seamus put his feet down and cocked his head to the side. His eyes narrowed. "Are you having a laugh?"

"Not even a little," I said. I was confused about why he was acting like this. "Seamus, please don't tell me you're upset about me not going to university. I thought you'd be happy."

"Happy?" He clenched his lips together. "Just when did you decide this?"

"Chill out, Seamus. It's not a big deal. So, I'm not going to university. Who cares?"

At that, he looked over at me, affronted.

"Who cares? Is that your question then?" His sarcastic tone had him crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, that's my question," I said, yanking myself out of bed to stand up and look him in the eye. I was a good three inches taller than him, but the way he was looking at me made me feel like I was nothing more than an ignorant child.

"Let's ignore the obvious: your parents, for starters, who have been nothing but proud of their genius son and the education he can't get here. I'll even leave out Mr. Hannagan who sent off about a hundred letters to that stupid university bragging that you were the best art student he's had in his twenty-year career of teaching."

I tried to butt in, but he talked right over me.

"I'll also be kind and leave out the ninety-nine percent of the blokes stuck here who'd give their left nut to get a full scholarship to an American university. Hell, I'll even throw in me. You saying I wouldn't care if you didn't go to university is actually a big slap in my face, but fine, I'll take that on. But the one person who would care the most about you giving up on your dreams would be your sister."

"Alana is dead," I said through gritted teeth.

Seamus walked over to me. His face went red and the vein in his forehead that enlarged when he was pissed started to throb.

"Aye, she is, mate. And you are spitting on her grave by not going and making something more of yourself." The muscles in his jaw flexed. "She knew from the start that you had a God-given talent. She was the one who convinced you to apply in the first place. And now...to not go? I can't think of a more dishonourable thing to do." He looked at me. The disgust was clear. He shook his head a few times before walking out of the room, leaving me sitting there, pissed. I knew he was right, but that didn't change one damn thing. I wasn't going. I couldn't.

I was reeling after Seamus ripped me a new one. I tried to swallow down what he said. Would Alana be upset with me for staying in Moneyglass? I didn't even want to go anymore. The irony was that of all the people in the world, I thought Seamus would be the one to support me on this. I foolishly assumed he'd understand the pain I was going through. Instead, he left me feeling like the biggest gobdaw on the planet.

Although I wouldn't be changing my mind about Alfred University, I did take what he said about Ma and Da to heart. On that point, I had been selfish. I needed to at least assure them that I was alright; that I was trying to find my way out of the grieving process. I'd be fine. Eventually. Probably.

Rubbing the scruff that had begun to overtake my face, I stood up. I barely recognized myself in the mirror. I looked like someone who had gone to Hell and back. It wasn't far from the truth, only I hadn't returned from Hell yet.

In the dying light of the sun, I cracked my door open and was bombarded with the smell of freshly baked bread. My Achilles' heel. No doubt Ma made it just to lure me out of my room. I wasn't sure I would have been able to resist its tug once it wafted upstairs.

Making no attempt to be quiet, I plodded down the stairs. As expected, she was in the kitchen, washing the baking dishes. The clatter the metal bowls made in the sink must have muffled my approach because she jumped when she turned around.

"Devlin! You scared me," she said, clutching her heart. She looked tired but better than she had yesterday. Stronger somehow.

"Sorry," I said, scratching the back of my unkempt hair.

"I've made your favorite."

I looked over on the counter where I saw the golden loaf laid out on a cutting board. A white ramekin of her butter rested beside it. There was a roast in the oven too, by the smell of it. I glanced up and noticed it was almost six. Da would be home for dinner soon.

"Sit, let's try it," she said, grabbing the board and a knife.

"Shouldn't we wait for dinner?"

She waved a hand at me. "A small slice won't ruin anything."

I raised an eyebrow, knowing I had made that same plea many times and she had always insisted we wait for dinner, but I wasn't about to pass this up. My stomach rolled with hunger. She didn't need to ask if I wanted butter on it. She spread a thick layer on for me like she used to when I was a kid.

"I'm sorry I worried you, Ma. I've...had a hard time accepting it all."

She reached out and patted my hand as we munched in silence for a few moments.

"It hasn't been easy, that's for sure." Her eyes were glassy and I didn't want to make her cry.

"I need some time to suss it all out. I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do now."

She nodded. "I know you are, darling. It's, well, you're running out of time. We want to spend as much time with you before you leave us for university. I know the idea of a summer course before the fall semester isn't ideal since most of your classmates will have a semester on you, but you needn't put if off any longer." Her eyes grew a touch teary before she stood up then and checked on the roast. "We're going to need to get your things packed soon, and I need to be able to get at your washing to do that."

I hadn't told them yet that I wasn't planning on going. The school had been kind to give me as much time as I needed during Alana's illness, but there was no point it keeping up that facade. It was time to come clean.

"Ma, I'm not going." I hung my head. "I've been meaning to tell you. With Alana sick and all, I sort of forgot to send back the deferment letter." It wasn't exactly a lie. I didn't send it back, but I certainly didn't forget to.

Instead of looking upset, though, she tipped her head and smiled at me. "That's perfectly understandable, darling."

Wow. She took that news better that I could have imagined.

"That's precisely the same thing I told that representative from Alfred when they called. I explained everything that had happened in the last few weeks and told them that, of course, you still wanted the scholarship. So you're all set. No need to worry."

"Wait, what?" I shouted.

"Devlin, what's come over you?"

"It was not your place to tell them I was going!"

She frowned at me. "Well, what did you want me to say to them? Bugger off?" Her voice was thick with confusion.

"Yes. That would have done just fine." I began to pace the small kitchen. "I lied before, okay? I didn't forget to return the acceptance. I deliberately didn't send it."

She stared at me, unblinking and unbelieving.

"I don't understand." Her words were soft.

I tried to find my reason, but the thoughts wouldn't come out.

"It's not because of me, is it, or your da?" she asked. "It's not because you think he needs you to stick around and take over the shop, is it?"

"It's not that." I sighed.

"Because I know you worry about us. About how we'll manage now. I don't want you to think that we secretly wish you'd stay here, because, Devlin, you getting into that university was the proudest moment of our lives. All of Moneyglass knows you have a gift and we don't want you to give it up to take care of us. We will be just fine."

"I know you will," I said, slumping into the chair.

She put her hand on mine. "So then why? Is this some sort of rebellion or something?"

I looked up at the ceiling in frustration. "No. It's nothing like that."

"Well, then please enlighten me, because I'm clueless as to why you want to toss this all away."

I wasn't sure what to tell her. Being an artist had been my dream ever since I was eight years old and could throw a decent pot. Even back then, Alana was always there, encouraging me. She would brag to anyone who would listen that I'd be a famous artist one day. She said I'd travel the world and make the Gallagher name a legend. We'd plotted out all the galleries we'd visit across the globe that would hold my art. Alana was my biggest fan. Didn't Ma understand that to go to university now would feel...pointless if Alana wasn't there to share it with me?

"I just don't think it's fair to go anymore."

"So, you think Alana would have preferred you throw your dreams away because she got cancer?"

"Ma—"

She put her hand on the rounded edge of my shoulder, the way she did when she wanted to make sure I was listening. "Darlin', the way Alana died was tragic. No one should ever have to die so young and in as much pain as your sister did. I know you've taken your sister's passing hard, maybe harder than most since she was your twin, but it's been hard on us too. Parents aren't supposed to bury their children." Her eyes teared over and her voice cracked. "I've had to learn that life goes on, Devlin. As hard as that is to admit, it does. There is nothing we can do to bring her back, and not moving on with your life is a disgrace to her memory."

"Well, this is my life, not yours. You can't make me go!"

I kicked out of my chair and went back upstairs, being sure to slam my bedroom door as hard as I could. Nothing like everyone in your life thinking you're the biggest disappointment on the planet to destroy an appetite.

# CHAPTER SIXTEEN

## AED

AFTER THREE DAYS OF little sleep and scant amounts of food, my men and I chased the Lorcan filth based solely on adrenaline. Since escaping the Wall, we'd been working to catch up to them. Slowly we made progress.

Screams tore through the night air. As I ran, I craned to see any sign of the victims in the dark, but the trees grew too thick in these parts for the moonlight to reach the forest floor.

"By the gods! Those manky beasts have reached Murigel." Cashel grasped the stitch in his side as we came to a halt.

Murigel was the town closest to my home, to Eimear and my family.

"I fear we may already be too late. Are you able to push a little harder, my friend?" I reached out a hand to Cashel.

"Aye. I can do that."

Despite the gouge in his side, earned from a split second's hesitation in our previous skirmish the day before, the warrior had gritted his teeth to the pain. He had kept with the hard pace I set as we pursued our enemy without complaint. I vowed that if he died at my side his family would be well cared for to express my gratitude.

Though we trailed after them with only a minimal delay to tend to our wounded, we were finally gaining on the last remaining members of the group that escaped the confines of the Wall. Soon they would all be dead. I only hoped we'd slay the last one before it reached my city's gates.

It took another five minutes of running full out before we found ourselves on a ridge. It was a good vantage point looking out over the valley below. For the first time, we saw the flames. Smoke billowed high into the sky, making it hard to see if there were any survivors below.

I suspected the townspeople sacrificed their homes in the hopes that help would arrive, but I knew my father. None would come in time. He had delayed sending aid in the past. I could only pray that soldiers were already on their way to the Wall in my stead.

Motioning for Breccan and Cashel to flank me, I ducked low and kept to the thick brush along the dirt road. Large footprints sank deep into the moist ground. The indent of the toes was clear from when the creatures sprinted ahead, demolishing the path in their wake. The Lorcan knew we were tracking them too closely. That made them reckless.

Three men would not be enough to save this village, but that was all who remained. I began the journey with fifteen reapers, all good men, but our numbers had dwindled during the first ambush. The second took nearly half of those who remained. The Lorcan had worked together, attacking from the trees above when we were forced to rest in shifts.

I knew each of my men by name. Even the youngest among us were those I had helped to become men. We had trained side by side from dawn till dusk these past months. We maintained a tight perimeter together. My men knew how to fight and how to survive, yet the Lorcan continued to pick us off.

My forearm burned from where Lorcan poison sank deep into my flesh after the last attack only four hours earlier. I nearly lost my head during the ambush. Two of my men did.

The dawn was not long away from the distant horizon. Soon the sun would rise and we were running out of time. Eimear would wake and too few good reapers remained to protect the city.

Sinking low, I crawled forward on my hands and stomach. I pushed aside the high grass to survey the village below. Many of the thatch-roofed huts were ablaze, sending thick clouds of soot high into the air. Storehouses and barn doors had been thrown open. Flames licked the interior of the one nearest me. I could not see any sign of animals or villagers, though they must be there. I could still hear their screams.

This town was among the largest north of Eimear. A good two hundred men, women, and children resided within those walls. I should easily be able to see bodies, and yet there were none visible.

"It's a trap," I whispered.

I had learned much since tracking these beasts. They reveled in chaos and destruction, feeding off their rage. They were also capable of setting traps.

The exterior of the town was made of hewn logs, buried deep in the earth and rising to nearly ten feet in height. The tops had been whittled into points and were lashed together tightly with rope so that barely a thread's breath could fit through.

My chest heaved and my limbs ached with exhaustion. We had pushed ourselves too hard these past few days, but the Lorcan was relentless, so we had to be also.

I whistled and waited for Breccan to approach. "Take the southern gate. Signal when you're in position. No matter what happens, do not let anything get past you or your family in Eimear may suffer the same fate as this poor town."

The inflamed burns consuming the entire left side of Breccan's face pulled taut as he nodded and then disappeared into the night. He made no sound as he passed. A second whistle brought Cashel to my side.

"Do ya have a plan?"

"We need to flush them out." I raised my hand and pointed towards where I sent Breccan. "The southern route will be blocked. You and I must see to all others."

His gaze moved swiftly over the village walls. Already they had begun to catch fire. It would not be long before the entire place was impenetrable.

"How many Lorcan do ya reckon there are left?"

"By my count, I would guess two, perhaps three." I wished this small number gave me a reason to hope, but one living Lorcan was still a grave threat. "Rafferty wounded one before he fell, which will make it an easier target."

Cashel fell silent at the mention of our fallen brother. Too many of us had fallen.

I pointed at the nearest barn. "The villagers are most likely hiding in the grain bins, out of sight and off the ground. We must get them to safety."

His hesitation didn't go unnoticed. "And what about you?"

Clapping him on the back, I rose. "I will be the decoy."

On the battlefield, I was no different than him. I was just a man trying to do right by his people. Not the sole heir to my father's throne.

Breccan would be in place shortly. I only needed to be patient a few moments longer, but that had never been my strong suit.

As I crouched low, I heard things moving in the night. My hand lowered to my sword hilt as I paused to listen. Heavy footsteps paced back and forth not ten metres ahead.

Much of the firelight was lost to a cloud of smoke as I peered through the gates. I couldn't wait for dawn's light. By then there would be no one left to save.

From the distance, I heard Breccan's shrill whistle and slipped inside the gate. Shadow surrounded me from every angle as I pressed my back against a domed hut. The interior remained untouched, so I moved on. The next four huts appeared in the same manner.

The closer I drew to the centre of town, a heavy unease settled between my shoulder blades. My hand tightened around my sword hilt. I glanced behind me, shaken by the feeling that I was being followed, but each time nothing appeared from the darkness. I searched the rooftops and peered inside open doorways, but all was still.

A scream tore through the air, rising over the crackling of the flames. As I dashed into the opening of the town square, something large slammed into my side. I hit the warm brick of a water fountain with enough force to crack the mortar. My vision blurred as I pressed my hand to the back of my head and found a small patch of blood staining my fingers. Heavy footsteps approached. I tried to focus around the thick haze of smoke.

I rolled instinctively a split second before the sound of breaking stone filled my ears. As I rolled to my feet, my blade was drawn in my right hand and my whip of mist in my left.

I cracked my whip at the mighty Lorcan rising before me. It stood at least two feet taller than me and nearly double my width. Leathery flesh spanned a broad torso. Parts of its face showed sign of rot. Its right eye had fallen out of its socket, leaving behind an empty black hole.

Its skin was different. Almost as if it had grown an armored plate. Its claws were nearly double the length of the others. There was intelligence in its eye that made me weak in the knees.

I tightened my grip on my sword. This Lorcan showed no fear at the sight of my whip. Only rage.

"Prince Aed!" Cashel yelled as he ran into the courtyard.

"No!" I watched the man lift his eyes to the sight of the Lorcan as it turned on him. It swung out its razor sharp claws and tore through Cashel's leather vest before he could react, knocking my man to the ground.

I leapt from the water fountain's ledge and drove my sword deep into the Lorcan's back. It roared and twisted, trying to knock me loose. I hung on as my blade shifted, tearing through its thick armor to reach the sinew and bone beneath. Acid fire tore through my shoulder when it reached over its back to try to drag me off. My screams echoed its own as we grappled with each other. I pushed hard on the hilt of my blade in an attempt to drive it away from Cashel.

"Get out of here," I screamed to Cashel.

My vision wavered as splatters of the Lorcan's blood burned deep into the claw marks in my shoulder. My grip was already starting to weaken in that hand.

"Breccan has fallen, but I took down the bloody wanker who got him." Cashel's shout was hard to hear over the tumbling beams of a nearby roof as it collapsed in on itself. The crumbling grain mill at the far end of the courtyard sent sparks hurtling into the air.

When the Lorcan turned at Cashel's voice, I twisted the sword and grinned at its pained howl. "See that the villagers are safe. I will take care of this one."

A bony elbow rammed back into my side and my fingers slipped off the blade. I slammed to the ground and tucked to roll.

"Aed!"

Burning debris littered my path, but the thundering monster behind me forced me to roll through the embers. I gritted my teeth against the new burning but leapt to my feet. With a flick of my wrist, I sent my whip lashing out at the approaching Lorcan.

"Go! See that Eimear is warned!"

I made my way around behind the fountain, moving slowly enough that the Lorcan would stalk me instead. Its gait was off as it tried to reach my sword still buried in its back.

"Your people are gone," Cashel shouted back. Peering around the fountain, I realised he hadn't moved an inch. "They must have fled on the southern road."

If we miscounted even by one Lorcan, my people were still in grave danger.

"You must follow them." I leapt over the side of the fountain just as the hulking beast stomped on the edge, crushing the stone to dust underfoot.

"I canna leave you. My duty..."

"Cut the duty shite and follow orders, Cashel!"

I ducked a second too late to avoid the creature's blow. My head rocked back and five deep gashes appeared across my chest. The claws burrowed just deep enough to steal my breath away. I staggered to my feet and pressed a hand to the torn leather.

That was too close.

Another hit with the back of its arm sent me flying through the air. I slammed into the disintegrating wall of a home. Fire and ash tumbled around me. Angry welts rose on my arms, but I ignored the pain as I picked my way back out of the smoldering debris.

"Cashel," I ground out as I kicked through the remains of a door. The glass shattered beneath my boot. "I am not asking."

"Aye, sire." Regret and resignation laced his tone this time. "I will follow."

"No Lorcan will breach our city walls. Promise me that."

"I swear it."

The Lorcan growled as I sidestepped its attack and drove my shoulder into its side, sending it off balance. Digging its claws into the ground, it tried to push to its feet, but I snapped my whip and wrapped it around its throat. The scent of its burning flesh turned my stomach. The scent was putrid. It writhed and screamed, but I was relentless as I approached to retrieve my sword.

"There is no place for your filth in my lands." I wrenched the blade free and wiped its blood on my pants. "We gave you life when you deserved death."

The Lorcan shuddered, gasping as the mists from the whip burned through its armor plating. Its long, snake-like tongue was a vivid red with black spots on it.

"How are you like this?" I demanded.

The Lorcan snapped its teeth at me. The rush of breath forced between its jaws startled me. It reminded me much of the alligators from the human realm I had read so much about as a child.

"Answer me." I punched it in the side of its head. "I know you understand me."

A trickle of black blood escaped from its ear hole. It glared back at me, resolute in its silence.

There was no remorse within me for this monster. It would die, just like all of the others. My father was a fool to keep them alive. I would see to it that this mistake was reversed as soon as I was king.

I moved around to stand in front of the monster. Its jaw popped as it shifted back and forth, grinding its teeth. "How many of you are left?"

It stared up at me with a deep-seated hatred. I hated these creatures with a mutual anger. I hated their stench, the breath in their chests, and their very existence.

"Tell me!" I slammed my sword hilt into its snout. Bits of bone fell away, but it didn't react to the blow. It just stared back at me with damned defiance.

I swept out my foot and slammed my boot into its jaw, rocking its head back. The impact rippled up my leg. A low growl rose in its throat and it claws clicked as it opened and closed them against the dirt.

Moving away, but never showing my back to the beast, I tied off the whip to the fountain. The added tension sent the Lorcan into a fit as the whip dug deeper into its neck. A black sludge slid the front of its armored chest.

I stomped my foot on its arm and drove my sword into its right wrist, sawing at its hand. Terrible howls and rasping groans of agony did not slow my attack as I took out my vengeance from this monster's body. Its skin might have been thick, and its bone strong, but my blade was made for this very purpose. When my arms grew weary with effort, I slammed my boot down onto the blade to snap through bone. The wound cauterized as the blade shifted. Blackened flesh bubbled and smoked. I sidestepped its free swinging arm and kicked its dismembered hand away.

"Hurts, does it not?"

Steaming blood seeped from its arm. I pressed my blade to its wound to stop the blood flow so that none of its poison touched me and then walked around its head and snapping jaws.

"Tell me how many of you were left," I screamed down at it.

I didn't know if it could speak to me beyond its grunts or growls, but if I could feel it, then it could feel me too. Unadulterated rage followed my steps as I placed my boot on its second hand. I knew I should not linger, that Cashel would need my help, but I needed this moment.

My men, lost to this damned battle, deserved this.

The stench of sizzling flesh filled the air as I began to saw off the second hand, removing the beast's ability to inflict wounds on another villager. For as long as I lived I knew I'd remember this creature's pain-filled cries. Knew it would forever mirror those of the men I held as they took their final breaths.

Moving back around to the beast's jaw, I slammed my sword hilt into the side of its elongated face once more. The first hit made my knuckles ache as I clung to the sword. Lorcan faces were hard, their bone structure far thicker than my own. A single hit would not be enough to knock it out.

It took six blows and several near misses with its gnashing teeth to subdue the Lorcan.

Placing my sword between its jaws, now lax from unconsciousness, I twisted the blade downwards and closed my eyes. With a mighty thrust, I sliced down the back of its jaw. Black ichor coated my hands as I seesawed my blade until its lower jaw rolled down onto its chest and then fell near my feet.

Rubbing the burning blood from my hands, I removed my whip from around its neck and coiled it at my hip. The creature I left behind would no longer be a threat to my people. I would let it live, but only because it could no longer feed. It would wither and die. A slow and painful death was my hope if such a death was even possible.

Rising up, I turned towards the south, towards my home. I didn't know if I had the strength left in me for this final leg of the journey, but I would crawl to the gates if I had to.

# CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

## TARYN

I MARCHED WITH MY head down against the driving winds, knowing they'd be far worse once I crossed through the veil. We didn't really have a winter in Netherworld. It was more like an eternal blustery spring. On the best of days, Eimear offered rain, mists, and cold. Not exactly what I'd call paradise, but it was home.

It was also a perfect match for my mood. Eivin was gone. He should have arrived at the Wall by now. Was he still alive? What was it like there?

My stomach twisted each time I thought about him. Eivin would have been furious with me for going to Devlin's house. Maybe that was why I went. To feel something.

I wasn't sure what I thought I'd accomplish in seeing Devlin. More confusion, that was for sure. I guess I was hoping by talking with him I could figure out why he could see me. At least that was part of the reason. The other was that I just needed to share a bit of my pain with someone who understood. He understood loss. Though Eivin was likely still alive, my heart ached as though I'd never see him again. No one in my realm would understand that hurt. Devlin would. I craved that connection, that was all. It didn't mean anything beyond that.

When I saw his eyes light up when he saw me...it made me wary. I couldn't risk letting him get too close—to learn who and what I was. I couldn't let myself care about a human. It was forbidden and impossible. I had to remember that. I was needed right here in my own world...whether people knew it or not.

Huddled deep within the folds of my cloak, I side-stepped a particularly murky puddle and lifted my dress as I hurried along, careful not to be splattered by merchant carts as I passed.

Shouts rose from the docks up ahead. I pushed my hood back just enough to see heavily muscled men hoisting wooden crates off ships, their wide sails tied to the riggings while at port. The crates were most likely filled with fresh fruits and vegetables picked from the fields in the River Lands, then sailed east to us from the market town of Alameda. Other crates boasted mounds of fish that I really hoped would not be on the menu at home tonight. Living this close to the sea made it easy to hate fish after a while.

I turned when the twang of fraying rope caught my ear. The line holding a large crate snapped and the pulleys whizzed. The ropes zipped through, freeing themselves. I shielded myself with my cloak as the wooden crate hit the deck of the ship and erupted into a thousand splinters.

"Dermot, ya bleeding idiot! You just dumped the whole load!" a raspy voice shouted from somewhere below the main deck.

I leaned over to see the water's surface littered with wood fragments. There, sinking to the depths of the Pettigo River, were glass swords, daggers, and crossbows. My eyes closed at the clenching remorse in my chest. In the coming days, those weapons would be needed.

The clock tower began to toll the hour's approach.

"Shite!" I hiked my skirts to sprint away from the docks. The ferryman waited for no one. If I was late, there would be hell to pay.

The fog grew thicker the farther I ran from the centre of town. The area was immersed in the scent of stagnant water. From behind me, I heard the tolling of the bell through the surrounding sheet of gray. When the bell fell silent, I would be late and left behind. I couldn't risk another mark against my name. My perverted boss would like nothing more than to find a reason for me to miss the boat. Being stuck with him all day was not a punishment I'd force on my worst enemy.

I followed the sound of shouting up ahead, veering farther right and praying I didn't take a wrong step into the river.

"Taryn!" A slender figure emerged from the fog ahead of me, waving her arms. It was Tris. "I had to stall Conall for ya. Where have you been?"

I bent over and held up a hand to still Tris' rapid monolog. "Accident...at the docks," I wheezed.

"He's not gonna be caring about that. Come on."

I tried to keep up with her, but I was spent after my mad dash through town.

We reached the docks just as the final bell tolled and I waited for my assignment card, garnering a wicked glare from my overlord, Conall Loman. He had an ample paunch that hung over his trousers and a growing bald spot. His glasses sat awkwardly on his tiny nose. He was also a right pain in my arse. The sort who lorded their power over you, even though it was barely any power at all.

"You're late," he grunted, reaching out to his assistant for my sheet. He gave it a cursory glance and then passed it over, leaving an oily smudge on the bottom corner.

"There was an accident down at the docks," I muttered.

"Taryn." Tris bumped my shoulder. She knew how I felt about Conall. It wasn't like I tried to hide my intense loathing.

"Thank you for your kindness," she said and steered me away.

I let her, but not before shooting him a glare.

"Are ya trying to get sacked?" Tris hissed before releasing her hold on my arm.

"As if that's even possible." When I grumbled under my breath, she pinched my side.

A disturbance up ahead captured my attention and I let my thoughts fade away. Rising onto my toes to peer over the girls before me, I saw the bobbing of heads and the line ahead of us pushing to the right to hug the wall.

"What is it?" Tris asked.

"I canna see."

I stepped towards the wall, following the lead of those in front of me, and heard a clanking sound against the deck boards for the first time. The lighting within the boat house was dim. The fog seeping in through the tall doors made it hard to see clearly. When the first figure came into view, a shiver rippled down my spine.

"Lorcan." Tris sounded faint as she pressed in behind me. She had never seen one of them up close before. Most in our village hadn't. We never mingled with them and we never rode on the same ferry. They should have passed through town hours ago.

Something was wrong.

My friend's hand trembled as she grasped my upper arm, but I hardly paid any attention. I stared at the Lorcan's boil covered flesh as they passed on the dock beside us. The reapers had them well contained, but that didn't ease the churning in my stomach. Some of the Lorcan looked like their flesh has been torn away. What remained was blackened and charred, much like the scar on my face. Others looked as if an animal has feasted on their flesh, leaving gaping holes in a leg or abdomen. Things crawl among their ribs, slithering out of their nose slits only to enter back through an ear or mouth.

The smell was overwhelming, burning my eyes. Their teeth were nearly as black as their skin and their breath hung before them in dark clouds as they moved past.

"These aren't new Lorcan," I whispered back to Tris. "They are too decomposed. And look at their wounds...there was a battle."

The memory of my da and Eivin's conversation about rogue Lorcan resurfaced. Had these Lorcan escaped our reapers when they turned? Had they been allowed to roam free in the human realm?

The very thought of that terrified me.

At the crack of a whip, one of the beasts stumbled and I heard a sickening crunch. As it righted itself and moved on, I realised its big toe remained lodged between two of the deck boards.

"I'm going to be ill," Tris moaned and buried her head in my back.

I didn't look away like everyone else or shy back against the wall when one of them turned to stare at me. These were the souls Eivin would soon be fighting. I couldn't help but wonder if this might someday be the one who took him from me.

A wave of anger worked its way through me as the prisoners moved past in a single-file line. It was nearly impossible to tell if I was channeling their anger or my own. Most likely both. I hated them just as much as they hated me.

It was only when the final one came into view that I realised why I couldn't see their bindings earlier. The chains that lassoed their necks, wrists, and ankles were the same colour as their skin. Dark magic had been woven into their bindings to ensure none escaped while the city was awake.

This was no normal crossing. These men had been sent in secret to clean up a mess the king didn't want anyone knowing about.

"Do not look them in the eye," I warned Tris. "It will only provoke them."

"But they're trapped, right? They canna get free."

I remained silent.

The final Lorcan turned and looked at me just then. A thick black substance oozed from its empty right eye socket. The other eye was completely white. It stood taller than all the rest. Its shoulders were double in width. Its teeth and claws razor sharp and longer than any I'd ever seen before.

Its lips cracked as they peeled back into a horrid grin, and suddenly I was no longer sure that it couldn't find a way free. In fact, I was positive it would do whatever it took to take one of us down before it reached the Wall.

My hand dipped down to my waist instinctively, grasping my concealed sword as I sensed a growing tension in the creature.

"Tris—" I started.

The Lorcan suddenly threw its head back. The bellowing cry echoed off the narrow walls, sending banshees and reapers alike scrambling.

"Watch out!" I screamed and drove Tris back into the wall, using my body to shield her.

The warning call came too late as a reaper's blood splattered the walls. The torn halves of his body dangled from the hulking Lorcan's hands as it rose to its full height. Its growl shook the walls around me. The Lorcan ahead of it jerked and snarled.

"You have to get out of here." I shoved at Tris, trying to push her past the cowering group of banshees in front of us. I grabbed several others as we moved and yanked them to their feet. "Get them to safety and then sound the bells. Eimear needs to know we're under attack."

"Under attack?" She blinked, confused. When a second scream sent her cowering to the ground, she shook her head. "I'm not leaving you."

"You canna fight them." I untied my cloak and began shrugging out of my dress.

"Neither can you!" Her eyes lit with surprise when I stripped down to my leathers. "You've been wearing that under your dress this whole time?"

I tossed my dress aside and took my blade in hand as the screams behind us rose. "Get to the boat and cast off. Do whatever it takes to bribe the ferryman. These girls need ya, Tris. Be the leader I know ya to be."

"But—"

"Go!" I shoved her away and turned to face the chaos behind me.

Two Lorcan with their chains still linked together tackled a banshee to the ground. Though Sybil and I had never seen eye to eye while we were in school, I felt a pang of regret when her scream cut short with the snapping of her neck. I was glad Tris had her back turned so she didn't have to see the girl's bulging eyes or the ugly twist of her neck.

"Get down," I yelled as a freed Lorcan leapt for a petite blonde beside me and tackled her to the ground. I jumped over a crying girl and drove my foot into the beast as it leaned low. It growled and rolled back to its feet, to find me standing between them.

"Taryn?" The girl blinked, rubbing her forehead. A trail of blood seeped down from her hairline.

"Get off your arse and run! Head for the boat. You'll be safe there."

I didn't turn to see if she followed my orders as I faced off with the beast. Her only hope was that I blocked its path to her.

Its rank breath washed over me as it exhaled.

The first attack came almost immediately after, but I anticipated it and ducked low. The second took out my legs before I could alter my stance and I hit the wooden floor hard. Pain rippled through my lower spine, but I rolled away just before it slammed its foot down where my stomach had been only a second before.

Three more Lorcan freed themselves and dove into the madness. I closed my eyes as a girl was thrown down the passage, narrowly missing me as I pushed up to my feet. The beast before me snarled and dug its long claws into the floor. Its foot had lodged in a hole in the wood and dangled into the water below.

"Someone sound the alarm," a reaper shouted.

I glanced behind me and saw that Conall stood paralyzed in the door to his office.

"The bloody idiot isn't going to call for help," I grumbled.

With the Lorcan temporarily trapped, I ducked another blow from its reaching claws and leapt to grasp a beam overhead. I swung back and forth to gain momentum and then slammed both feet into its chest. Its body snapped in half so that its back lay on the floor, its spine severed. I waited for its eyes to fall closed before I turned away.

A guttural cry alerted me to an approaching Lorcan and I swung back with enough force to slam it into the wall. The wood cracked and the beast fell through, landing in the murky water.

"Move!" I dropped to the floor and yanked a cowering girl to her feet. She trembled so hard I was afraid she'd bite through her lip. "Ya need to be getting to the boat. People will help ya there to safety!"

"My...my sister. I canna get to her." She pointed a shaky finger at a small shape lying curled into a ball several feet away.

"I'll get her for ya. Just go."

The floor was slick as I tried to run. All around me, banshees had fallen to the creatures' might. The sound of snapping whips paralleled with cries of pain and terror. We were being slaughtered and no one in the city knew.

I heard a loud crash and looked to see a reaper pressed horizontally against the wall. Blood stained the wood. His face was a mass of claw marks. His eyes were too swollen to see.

Looking between him and the girl, I knew there was no way I could save both of them.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to the reaper and slid across the floor to the girl. She screamed when I touched her arm.

"Easy." I brushed her hair back from her face so she could see me. "I'm here to help ya. Can you walk at all?"

She started to speak, but all colour drained from her young face. "It's behind me, isn't it?"

A shadow on the wall was my only clue of its attack. I shoved the girl back and threw myself to the side, slamming hard into the wall. My vision darkened under the force of the hit, but I shook it off. One glance behind told me that the little girl was gone. Her splattered blood was warm against the side of my face.

"Shite." I beat my palm against the floor. She should have moved.

Glancing over at the lifeless reaper beside me, I looked up to see that the remaining reapers had fanned out, standing back to back. Bodies littered the narrow hallway. Far too many had fallen in so few minutes. The space was too narrow for them to swing their swords or whips properly. They were being picked off quickly.

The scent of rot and ruin were now masked by the smell of charred flesh. My stomach tossed and churned, but I forced myself to push it all aside and focus. Conall had an alarm bell in his office and I had to get to it if any of us stood a chance.

I pushed to my feet and leapt over the dead reaper only to come upon a girl lying several feet in front of me. Black gashes, still sizzling as the poisoned blood ate away my skin. A Lorcan knelt beside her, tilting her face up as its jaw popped out of alignment.

The outline of the girl grew hazy, like a fog shifting along the surface of a lake. It gathered at her chest and rose, sucked into the open jaws of the Lorcan. I had never seen a Lorcan's Death Kiss before.

"It's feeding on her," I whispered, feeling both a sense of awe and anger.

My job was to ring the bell and nothing more. If I lingered, more would die.

Sidestepping around the feeding Lorcan, I knew the sight of the girl's body disintegrating slowly into dust would haunt me for years to come. I looked away and didn't stop running until I reached Conall's office.

"Move over!" I shoved him inside and he fell back against the wall, stunned. "Where's the bell?"

I slammed the door closed and then whirled around in search of the golden bell. It was a signal that was kept by the overlord for such a time as this: one of dire peril, despite the royals' assurances it would never be needed.

Seizing him by the shoulders, I shook him. "Conall? Where is it?"

Something heavy slammed into us from behind. I crashed to the floor, grunting as pain splashed across my bruised ribs and splinters of the door rained down. When the weight above me shifted, I rolled to my side and up to my feet, ready to fight.

My gaze rose to the doorway and adrenaline ricocheted through my body as a mountainous beast towered before me. It was the one that made the first kill. The one that laughed at my challenge.

I glanced towards Conall out of the corner of my eye when the scent of urine hit me. A growing damp spread down his pant leg. He wailed when the Lorcan knocked him aside, sending him flying through the air. When he collapsed to the floor, he didn't move again.

"Hey!" Swiping the back of my hand under my nose, I cleared away a trail of blood. The Lorcan's blank eyes shifted to me.

"You came for me. Well, here I am."

I raised my arm, glass sword in hand, as the sounds of battle and death continued in the hall. The creature attacked without warning. Its gnarled hands curled around my arms, driving me back to the ground. I planted my foot in its stomach and used the beast's momentum to shove it off me.

Serrated claws sank deep into my calf as I tried to crawl away but wasn't fast enough. Grabbing onto Conall's desk, I smashed my boot against its cheek. Bone shattered behind me, but it didn't let go.

Just a couple of feet in front of me, I spied the handle of my dagger poking out from beneath an overturned bench seat. It was my only chance. I pulled myself towards it, gritting my teeth against the tearing in my calf.

A moan from behind me made the Lorcan go still. I saw the instant the Lorcan's hunger engaged when it noticed Conall's prostrate form. He was an easier target. Its jaw detached and dangled low in anticipation of a feast. It retracted its claws from my leg and leapt towards him.

"No!"

The deformed creature hovered low over Conall and I forced myself to wait for my moment. A rippling along the outline of the man's body formed. When the Lorcan opened its mouth wide to begin sucking in his essence, I hurled my dagger straight into its mouth. It choked and grasped at its throat as it stumbled back.

Using the desk to help push myself upright, I tested adding weight to my wounded leg, but my knee buckled under the pain. "Bloody hell!"

The sound of nails clicking against metal made me turn. The blade didn't sink deep enough to kill the Lorcan. Only to anger it as it fought to grasp the dagger and remove it from the roof of its mouth.

Dragging my leg behind me, I hopped around the front of Conall's desk and began tearing through the drawers in search of the bell. It had to be there...somewhere.

Upturning each drawer and finding them empty, I kept the Lorcan in the corner of my eye as I started shoving books off shelves. I looked at the walls in search of the bell. There, suspended from one of the rafters, was a dusty circular golden disc. "Finally."

Finding the bell wasn't enough. I looked all around the mess surrounding me and realised I had nothing to ring it with.

The Lorcan struggled back to its feet, incapable of biting anyone or performing the Kiss, but its claws were still a danger to me. I snatched an unlit lantern from the window sill and swung as it charged at me. The Lorcan's knee gave out when I grabbed a broken board and slammed it into its face, driving the white glass deep into its brain.

The beast shuddered when it landed on the ground. I stepped around the growing pool of blood and wearily slammed the lantern against the bell. It reverberated through my chest, ringing out loud and clear. As Conall curled into a ball on the floor and covered his ears, I listened for a returning bell before pumping my fists with triumph into the air. The warning had finally gone out.

I slumped back against the wall. Warm blood ran freely down the back of my calf and into my boot.

"Oh, don't bother getting up, you bleeding arse. I've saved the day," I growled at Conall, wishing I could kick the stupid man in his gut for nearly getting me killed.

Soon more reapers would come to wipe out the remaining Lorcan, but it was too late for those lying in the hall. Far too many of us were already gone.

The throbbing in my leg made me close my eyes and bite my lip. That would be another scar to add to the others.

The sounds of shouting in the hallway reached me just before rushed footsteps slid to a stop in the room. I opened my eyes to find a dark-haired man standing in the doorway. His chest was broad, his arms tattooed with battle scars, some appearing to be very recent. Other scars marred his chest, visible through the cut leather bindings of his damaged leathers.

Two daggers with silver hilts, sheathed at the centre of his back, rose from over his shoulders. A whip rested at his hip and a smaller knife at his calf. A large curved glass sword was poised in his hand as he looked down at the Lorcan. He looked dead on his feet as if he'd just run a great distance, but his eyes were alert.

"You're too late," I said, turning my back on the reaper. "This one is already gone."

He knelt down to look at the fallen Lorcan, turning its head this way and that. "You buried glass into its forehead?"

"Aye. I did."

"Why?" He looked up at me with a stern gaze.

"Because it was all I had while I was saving his arse." I pointed at Conall cowering several feet away. "It did the job well enough."

"Nearly."

I turned back and watched as he stomped his foot down on the Lorcan's head. The bone gave way as the body disintegrated. "They're not truly dead until they're dust."

"How would you know that?" I turned to look at him, surprised to see Conall hurrying to rise to his feet.

The man's gaze was hard as he stared at the simpering man.

"Are you injured?" he asked.

Conall couldn't find his voice. His eyes were wide as he shook his head.

"His pride, if a coward can possess such a thing, but nothing more," I said. "The bloody idiot nearly cost my life."

The sour tone in my voice made the reaper's lips twitch into a smile.

"And you? Are you wounded?"

His gaze fell to the streak of blood along my calf. The sight of shredded muscle made my stomach roll. I turned my leg away and stared defiantly up at him. "I've had worse."

Now he openly stared at the scars on my face, but I didn't back down from his observation. I was no longer ashamed of my wounds. I saved lives today and would never again hide behind my hood. The king could never banish me for this. Not when people witnessed my aid.

He'd find another way to take me out.

"You should let me tend to your wounds." The man moved closer to me.

"Ya have a few of your own that look a wee bit nasty," I pointed out and held up a hand to stop him. "There are others wounded in the hall. They'll be needing your help. I'm fine."

A smirk tugged at his lips as he cocked his head to the side and surveyed me. "Yes, I suppose you are."

I eased my weight off my leg and leaned against the desk for support. "Are you mocking me?"

"On the contrary, I admire your courage." When he shook his head, I noticed light auburn streaks in his dark hair. "At least let me give you something for the pain."

I grabbed the leather pouch of herbs that he tossed at me and then snatched Conall's cloak off the floor. My arms ached when I tore the garment and dipped low to bind my wound with a sprinkling of the dried herbs to slow the bleeding. There was a powerful concoction that would generate a rapid healing.

When I looked up I noticed his gaze had fallen on the low cut of my halter. I rolled my eyes. "Thank you for the herbs, but you can shove off now. I couldn't care less what you admire and I'll thank you to keep your eyes on my face instead of my chest."

"Is that so?" He shifted his weight and ran his hand through his hair. Flecks of black fell free and I looked closer to see that his breastplate was coated in fresh Lorcan blood. "Well, now that is unusual."

"Why is that?" Testing my leg to make sure I was capable of walking, I took a step towards him in challenge. The first step was excruciating, but I refused to let him see the pain on my face as I reached down to retrieve my blade.

"People typically take greater care when speaking with their prince. Especially when that someone has been discovered wearing illegal leathers and wielding a blade in a manner unfitting for a woman."

How did I not recognize him? Beneath the scars and ropes of muscle, I saw a hint of his former swagger in his smirk.

"You're Aed? Shite." It was too late to hide anything. The evidence before him had already damned me.

"I heard you were returning to throw a grand ball in your honour. And to pick a wee wife as well. Must be terribly exciting for you to have the whole city lusting after you," I said, pressing my shoulders back to shove aside my mounting dread. "Looks like you had a rough journey. I'm sure you'll have an oil bath and servants waiting to tend to your every need when you return to your castle."

I tried to push past him, but he took hold of my arm and forced me to stop.

"My return was not by choice. I have orders to follow like all the rest. And yes, my journey was difficult. I was tracking a group of Lorcan with a small group of soldiers."

His face grew grim and I knew he'd lost men along the way.

"I'm sorry." I leaned heavily on my good leg. The blood loss was starting to go to my head. "Did you get them all?"

"I believe so." He nodded. "It's possible that one slipped through, but our reapers are scouring the city."

"So it's true. They have found a way over the Wall."

His gaze narrowed. "True? Has my father spoken of the war?"

"War?" I laughed. "According to the royals there is no war. There is no threat. There are only lies and cover-ups." I yanked my arm out of his grip. "Your father denies everything."

Prince Aed stared long and hard at me. His jaw flinched before he spoke again. "Accusing the king is no small thing."

I limped forward again, closing the distance between us. The herbs had already begun to ease the stabbing pains in my leg. "Only if what I say is untrue. You arriving here during a Lorcan attack seems to imply that I'm right, don't ya think?"

For a second, I wondered if he would strike me for speaking so boldly, but instead, he threw back his head and laughed. "What's your name, girl?"

"And have ya running to your father to tattle on me?" I shifted until I was standing toe to toe with him. I didn't know what possessed me to do this; to stand in such open defiance of him, but I needed him to know I wasn't just some girl playing dress-up. "I risked my life for the truth. Will ya take it now by ratting me out?"

He frowned. "I have no desire to see you harmed. Especially not after having shown such bravery on the battlefield."

I looked around me at the carnage in this room and beyond. Yes, this was a battlefield.

"You may keep your name to yourself for the time being," he said. "I would offer a word of caution for the next time we meet. There are few here who will allow such words spoken in public."

"I know that all too well. It seems I have a nose for trouble." I rubbed my thumb along the scars on my cheek. His gaze followed. "I have your da to thank for these."

Aed's eyes narrowed. "Those are Lorcan wounds."

"Aren't you the smart lad? Figure out how that came to be then."

I started to turn away.

"Stop! If my father ordered an attack on you, that means you are in grave danger."

"You almost sound like ya care." I looked back over my shoulder. "There ya stand, with that same fire in your eyes that I have boiling in my own chest. What are ya planning on doin' about it then? Will ya fight? Will ya lead us?"

Anger flashed across his face. "My father is the king. Standing up against him is treasonous. Do not forget that, girl."

"People I knew died out in that hallway and he did nothin' to stop it. He's the one in control of the deaths around these parts. Tell me how he didn't know this was going to happen then. How your men would die on your journey here. Mark my words. Come tomorrow no one will know what happened here."

"They will."

I laughed. "Ya think too kindly of your father."

"He is our king."

"And a right bad one at that," I snapped. "Can ya look me in the eye and tell me he's not a monster?"

Prince Aed's mouth opened to protest, but he said nothing.

"Even you can't defend him, can ya, Aed?"

"That's Prince Aed." His face flushed and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"You are no prince to me unless ya earn it. I've heard tales of you from the Wall. Tales that say you are strong and fierce, but are ya also compassionate? Can ya choose to save your people from the greed of having a crown on your head?"

"How dare you?" He yanked on my arm. I cried out when my knee buckled and he scooped me into his arms before I could fall. He fought to stifle his anger in the sight of my pain. "Are you always this feisty?"

"Only with people I don't like."

"You don't know me."

"I don't have to. Your self-righteous anger proves that you are not the man I hoped. You are nothing more than the womanizing brat ya used to be."

He spoke through clenched teeth, "Reputations have a way of being false."

"Then prove it."

Setting me gently on the ground once more, I was glad to be free of his arms.

"You will be at the ball, I assume?" he said. "I shall see you there and we can continue this conversation away from prying ears."

I looked down at Conall, who had retreated once more. "Don't count on it."

I turned my back on him and limped into the hallway, slowly picking my way through the bodies. The space was now filled with reapers. The screaming had ended, but Tris was nowhere to be seen.

Hurrying as fast as my leg would allow to get to the ferry, I saw that the main ferry boat was missing. A smaller one was just floating away from shore, but appeared to be empty.

"That's odd." I turned to tell a reaper that they would need to go and retrieve the boat that had become unmoored, but just then, the hulking shape of a Lorcan stepped up to hull. It turned to look back at me just before it disappeared through the veil and into the human realm.

"Shite."

# CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

## DEVLIN

I WAS FEELING LIKE an arse the morning after the fight I'd had with Ma about the university. I'd behaved like a child when I stormed off. She was only trying to help me go after my dreams. Or what used to be my dreams. Now that Alana was gone, I didn't know what I wanted to do anymore. There was too much to process and her shoving me across an ocean wasn't going to get me to come to terms with them any faster.

One thing was clear. I needed to get out of my own way and begin to make amends for my actions. Starting with my poor studio. I had yet to see the destruction in the light of day. I took a deep breath and made my way over to the door.

The loud creak it made as I opened it reverberated in my ears. A few beams of sunlight made their way through the window, illuminating the war zone I'd left behind in my rage. Shards of broken pottery lined the benches and floors. Shelves lay bare. Months of work turned to dust in a matter of minutes. Devlin, you daft idiot!

Sighing, I grabbed the dustpan hanging from a nail near the door and started sweeping off my worktable. Large chunks of broken pottery came crashing to the ground, kicking up copper-coloured clouds. The shattered clay greeted the rest of the terracotta carnage below. The dust was so thick that I had to prop my door open to let in some fresh air.

"This is not going to be easy," I said, digging out the trash bags I had stored in my supply closet. "Nor is this going to be anywhere near enough bags."

Using the edge of my shirt, I wiped the sweat off my brow.

"Devlin? You in there, lad?"

It was Da. I hadn't confronted him since my argument with Ma, which I was sure she told him all about.

"Aye," I replied, putting the trash bags on the table.

Da came in and looked around the studio and let out a long, slow whistle. I scratched the back of my neck, embarrassed.

"I thought breaking your ma's china after the wake was bad, but this"—he waved his hand around—"you've outdone me, lad."

"Pretty dumb, eh?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

Da walked around the room, kicking at a bit of broken pottery. "Well, that depends, son. Does it hurt less now?"

I stood up and walked over to the window and gazed out over the field that led into the woods. A large bird of prey flew overhead and the soft sound of wind rattled against the windowpane. There was a sense of calm standing here. Peace.

"I think so," I said. A moment later I felt Da's hand on my shoulder. Strong and reassuring.

"Your mother told me about the university."

I lowered my head. I had been waiting for this lecture.

"Devlin, whether you go to university or not, that's not my concern."

I shot an eyebrow up at him.

"It's your life, son. You have to do what's best for you."

I nodded, pondering his words. "Thanks, Da. I'm a bit of a mess right now. I'm not so sure school is the best place for me. Especially around breakable things," I said, gesturing to the rubble.

"That may be true," he agreed. "The broken clay doesn't concern me, though. I'm more worried about the broken bits of your heart."

"Aye," I whispered.

"Have you made your peace with her?"

"Ma? Not yet. I owe her an apology, I suppose."

He shook his head. "Yes, you do, but I was referring to Alana."

I stood frozen, not sure what to say.

"Son, you need to bury the guilt you feel. It's not your fault. No matter how much you may have convinced yourself of it. God saw fit to bring her to His kingdom. We need to accept that before any true healing can begin."

Da gave my shoulder another squeeze before turning to leave. Before he did, he hovered in the door. "Take the day off work. Finish getting your studio back in order so you can replace what you've broken. Then, when that's finished, go to Alana. You need this closure so you can move on with your life." Our eyes locked in understanding. With that, he shut the door, leaving me in the shadow of my studio walls.

I took Da's advice and spent the rest of the day putting my shop back together. I ordered more clay and emptied bin after bin of my pent-up rage. Before I knew it, Ma was calling me into dinner.

After I'd washed up, I approached her in the kitchen. Her eyes were still red, either over Alana or me. She wouldn't meet my gaze, so I took her hand and brought it to my heart, and in that one gesture, all was forgiven. Her eyes softened and she nodded her understanding. I still hadn't made up my mind about the university, but maybe a heart-to-heart with Alana would make it clearer.

Throughout dinner, I couldn't help but wonder about Seamus. I'd tried to text and call all day to apologize, but he wasn't answering. Something didn't feel right. I needed to track him down.

Ma interrupted my worry with a request for the potatoes. The smell of the garlic mashed inside wafted across the table with the bowl. Dabbing the edges of my mouth with my napkin, I cleared my throat.

"Um, I thought after dinner, I'd go to the cemetery. Thought I'd hunt Seamus down, take him with me."

She looked from me to Da.

He nodded his head as he chewed. "Good idea, son."

"But there's pie." Ma frowned. "Would you like me to save you a slice?"

I smiled like a lad at Christmas. "No. I'll stay for pie and help you clean up before I go. How about that?"

"That would be lovely," she said with a voice thick with emotion.

After filling our faces with warm apples and sugar, Ma brought out the tea kettle, and we all talked for a while. About Alana, mostly, but I could see that it was upsetting Ma, so I opted to change the subject.

"Ma, have you heard any more about Ms. Daly?"

Da put his cup down. "Wait, she was the librarian who went mental, right?"

"Aye, she's down in Belfast for treatment," Ma said. "They've given her electroshock treatment from what I heard."

"Really?" Da asked.

She nodded, her eyes aglow with gossip. "Aye, well, she had a visit from a sister who flew over from London to see her..." Ma crossed herself. "She said her sister still believes there's something after her. She swears she can still feel claws on her legs, but there's nothing there."

"So she saw something attacking her?" I asked.

Ma nodded. "Her sister was a wreck about it. She won't go back. Too upsetting."

I put my tea down as well, uneasy by the similarities I'd had with Ms. Daly. I hadn't felt any claws, but I'd certainly seen things others hadn't.

"I heard the tele saying that the same sort of thing is happening all over Ireland." Ma's eyes widened a bit.

"There was a nurse at the hospital who had to be sedated recently too," I said quietly, remembering Mrs. Child's incident the day I first saw Taryn.

"I hope it's not contagious." Ma gasped.

Da waved his hand at her. "Mental illness isn't contagious, you daft woman."

The conversation was freaking me out, so I took that as my opportunity to leave.

"Well, I'm gonna head to the cemetery before it gets too dark." I glanced at the clock. It was already past seven.

"Wear a jacket and stick to the main road! The spirits walk at night," Ma warned.

I shook my head, but couldn't say, for sure, she was wrong.

Tucking Alana's scarf inside my jacket, I zipped myself in and shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans.

I had to find Seamus. Though our relationship wasn't as strong as it had been before Alana got sick, we were still mates. I didn't like the way we ended things. He had a temper and I didn't want him going off on someone when his anger should be directed at me.

The flat where he still lived with his da wasn't that far of a walk. Seamus had come to my house more times than I cared to count in the dead of the night needing a place to crash. His da had taken to the bottle after his ma died. Seamus got his temper from him. Mr. Duffy would get physical when he drank, which was why Seamus came to us. My folks never knew how bad it got. Seamus refused to even tell me, but I could see it in his eyes and in the bruises he tried to hide.

I never understood why Seamus didn't go off to university. He could be free of him. Get a good paying job. I suspected he didn't believe in himself enough to put in the effort. His da had likely done a number on his self-confidence over the years. It was hard to see out of a tunnel when you couldn't find the light. I knew that all too well.

Their place was easy to spot as it was the only flat in the neighbourhood that looked as though it were vacant. Weeds grew up through the sidewalk, cigarette butts overflowed from a coffee can placed on the step, and the trash bins were always full. They had both stopped caring about the appearance of the flat the day Seamus' ma passed.

The reputation he had because of his house and his da, for that matter, got Seamus into more than a few fights in school. Kids were relentless in their torment, which was another reason why Seamus took to the gym as hard as he did. He was more than ready to knock the lights out of anyone who looked at him funny.

I took the three steps up to his door and was about to knock when I saw Mr. Duffy through the window. He was in his usual spot; his recliner, the glow of the tele illuminating his slumped body. A beer bottle was dangling precariously from limp fingers. He'd passed out. Annoyed, I looked upwards to see if Seamus' light was on. Nothing but darkness greeted me. If his da had gotten that shit-faced, there was no way Seamus would have stuck around for that.

My mobile didn't show any reply to my messages, so I headed for the pub. That was where he would have gone to escape his raging alcoholic father. The irony was not lost on me.

Only a few people nodded at me once I made it to the pub. I'd grown up with most of these blokes, and yet many avoided my eye. They didn't quite know how to express their condolences, so they ignored me instead.

"Devlin. Good to see you," the barkeep, Brian, said, shaking my hand.

"Thanks, mate. Have you seen Seamus?"

His face darkened. "Aye. I'm glad you're here. I was just about to call him a cab. He needs to get on home before his mouth gets him into trouble." Brian nodded over his shoulder to the pool table where Seamus stood with a pool cue in his hand. He was talking to two birds. Neither of them looked too happy with him. One look at how he was holding the pool cue perversely between his legs indicated why.

"Oh, Seamus," I muttered. I loved that bloke like a brother, but when he drank he became a jackass. Like father, like son.

Just then, a big guy with a long beard approached Seamus. The next thing I knew, they were both shouting and Seamus lifted the pool cue up as though to hit the guy with it.

That was when fists began to fly. The big guy caught Seamus in the gut, causing the pool stick to drop to the floor. Seamus shook off the blow and then rammed into the guy's waist, trying to knock him off balance. It was a tactic that might have actually worked if the drink hadn't thrown off his own. Another guy joined into the mix, throwing a jab into Seamus' ribs before I made it over there.

This wasn't a time to talk. This was a time to throw punches and make apologies later. My fist made contact with the face of the guy going after Seamus with a resounding thud. His head spun around and blood seeped from his lips. I'd probably loosened a few teeth with a hit like that. The pain seared from my knuckles up my arm, but I shook it off to go after the second guy.

Seamus whipped his head around and saw me there. He smiled, but I didn't return it. There was a big, black shiner over his left eye. A mark he hadn't gotten here at the pub. At least not from the bearded guy. My blood boiled. His da must have started that shite again.

Taking out the rage I had for his da and for Alana's death, I pushed Seamus out of the way and began to pound on the bearded guy until Brian and a few other patrons had to pull me off.

"Get out, the lot of ya," Brian yelled, shoving us outside.

Seamus fell to the ground, laughing.

"That was bloody fantastic!" he yelled, getting up to his own shaky feet.

"No, Seamus, that was really stupid. Jesus! How do you get me into situations like this?" I was fuming, angry that I had lost control, angry at Seamus' da, but mostly, I was angry with myself. I hadn't been there for my friend before it got this bad again. Why hadn't he told me? Then again, why hadn't I reached out? Had that been why he retreated from us? Maybe he didn't want to burden us with his da when we were going through our own personal hell. It was the sort of thing Seamus would do. Bear the pain so that someone else wouldn't have to suffer.

Seamus looped his arm over my shoulder and dug a flask out of his back pocket.

"We deserve a drink," he slurred.

As much as I wanted to rip that flask out of his hand and dump it square over his head, I didn't. My nerves were like a live wire and I needed to calm myself down. I took a hearty sip off the flask, then took another for good measure.

"Did you see how that guy's head whipped around when you hit him? It was like he was a goddamn rag doll." Seamus laughed.

"I did," I said, looking down at the ground. It was a sucker punch. The guy hadn't seen it coming. He'd had no time to prepare, to fight fairly. It was a cheap shot and I wasn't proud of throwing it.

"When are you going to learn to stop running your mouth, mate? I'm not always going to be around to save your arse, you know?"

At that, Seamus looked up at me. "Does that mean you're going to America then?"

I shoved his arm off me. "That's not what I meant and you bloody well know it. Christ, Seamus, you have to learn—"

Seamus stopped walking. "Learn what? To be more like you? Mr. Perfect?"

I frowned at his implication. I wasn't perfect, far from it, and he, of all people, should know that. "You should learn to be less like your da," I spat.

Seamus swayed a bit and took another drink. "Too late for that."

I sighed and walked over to him to get a better look at his shiner. His right eye was swollen shut and the edges had gone a deep purple. Seamus didn't let me get too close. He turned away and started walking.

"At least tell me you hit the son of a bitch back," I called out after him.

Seamus waved a dismissive hand at me. He hadn't. He didn't take shite from anyone, but when it came to his da, it was as though he thought he deserved it and just let it happen. I knew that self-imposed martyrdom all too well.

"Come on, man, let's get you home," I said, catching up to him.

"Hell no. I'm not going back there. Ever again." Even drunk, he sounded like he meant it.

I looped my arm over his shoulder and took the flask from him, finishing off the last of it.

"Good. You can crash with me then. First, we have a stop we need to make."

The night was still young, and I didn't want my folks to see Seamus in this drunken condition. The bruises I could make an excuse for, the drunkenness I couldn't. He needed some time to sober up and I still wanted to visit the graveyard.

We stumbled our way down the dark dirt road that led to the cemetery. I opted not to go down the shortcut. Not because of Ma's warning of spirits walking, but because I didn't think Seamus would be able to maneuver the rocky path in his condition. Then again, the way my head was swirling around, I wasn't convinced I could either.

"Have you ever been in love?" Seamus asked when we were a few metres away from the gate. His eyes were heavy, but his eyebrows were crinkled as though he was trying to be sober for a moment.

"I don't know, mate," I said, shifting Seamus' weight as he leaned on me. The bastard was gonna have one hell of a hangover.

He stopped walking and placed his hands on my chest, more to steady himself than to stop me.

"No. I mean, have you ever like just found someone who took your breath away?"

My mind instantly flew to Taryn. "Aye," I confessed too softly for him to hear.

"I wanna find that again," he slurred, looking off into the distance.

"Again?"

He spun around a bit too quickly. I grabbed onto his arm so he wouldn't fall. "I loved your sister, mate."

"I know. You never told her though. Why?"

Seamus took a few steps away from me, waving a dismissive hand my way. "She never would have cared for the likes of me though. I wasn't good enough for her. Even I knew that." His head tossed from side to side like a bobble-head doll. "She was the only woman I trusted enough to love after my ma died." He burst out laughing. "Guess I shouldn't have, 'cause she died on me too." More laughter. This time it had an edge of hysteria to it. "Everyone I love dies, and the wankers I hate"—he gestured to his face—"they all live on." He rubbed his hands over his head a few times, ruffling his raven hair into a wild disarray. "Maybe Alana is better off. She doesn't have to stick around and deal with shite like this."

He stormed off into the cemetery and I let him. He needed a few minutes to get it together. Seamus didn't like showing his emotions, so it was best to give him some time.

When he started singing at the top of his lungs I knew his emotional state had passed. He was back to being drunk and disorderly. Even though there was no one around, it still seemed disrespectful.

"Maybe we should just go home, Seamus," I suggested as I walked into the cemetery. "Let you sleep this one off."

"Sleep? I'll sleep when I'm dead!" he shouted, his laughing growing louder than his signing. "Get it? When I'm dead?" He bent over, holding his hands against his legs as he laughed.

A cold chill ran up my spine as I took another step closer to Seamus. I don't know why, but a wave of dread filled me. The hairs on the back of my neck alerted me to an unseen danger. Something was not right.

"Seamus! Shut your trap. Do you hear anything?"

I whipped my head around, looking for whatever was setting my alarm bells off, but all I could see were the twisted shapes of the willow trees looming large in the moonlight. Their long branches cast massive shadows that shifted with the wind.

"What's the matter? You scared of things that go bump in the night?" Seamus made a spooky sound with his mouth that turned into a growl.

"Knock it off, Seamus."

Seamus continued to laugh as a different sound came through the moonlight. A rapid-fire snapping of branches. Almost as though a bull were charging at us from across the cemetery. My heart began to race while Seamus seemed oblivious to any impending danger.

"Shut up, Seamus! Listen! Can't you hear that?" I tried to listen past the sound of my own heart beating.

"Hear what?" he shouted at the moon. "Is it the sound of your balls shrinking up into your arse?" Seamus bent over, tears of laughter overtaking him. He clearly didn't hear the same sounds I was.

I spun around to face the gate area where the noise was coming from and froze. From out of nowhere, a shadow as large as a bear came leaping clear over the gate that was easily two metres tall. I ducked down low as it jumped over me, landing with a massive thump that shook the ground.

The beast continued its forward charge towards a still laughing Seamus, who had no clue what was coming for him.

"Seamus, run!" I shouted, but he was still bent over.

I searched the ground, looking for a branch or broken bottle to beat the thing away with, but just when I went to grab a large rock, I was knocked from behind. I landed with a thud onto the ground.

A blood-curdling scream came from Seamus and I looked back to see that the beast had him pinned to the ground. It was so dark I couldn't make out what it was.

My side ached from where I had fallen, but I pushed myself up to my knees. Before I could stand I was shoved back down again. Hard.

"This isn't your fight."

My head flung up to the voice over my shoulder.

"Taryn?" Why was she here? And why did she just push me down?

"Keep your head down and stay out of sight," she hissed. Her eyes were focused on the thing attacking Seamus, but all I could see was that she was hurt. Blood stained the back of her left leg. That was when I realised she wasn't wearing a dress but a leather halter and skirt like out of a comic book. "If ya get in my way, your friend might not make it."

Before I could object, she ran towards the beast, a translucent blade shining dangerously in the moonlight.

"What the hell?" I panted.

She was going after that thing, and judging by the way she was charging it, she knew exactly what she was up against.

# CHAPTER NINETEEN

## TARYN

I HAD SPENT THE entire day tracking the escaped Lorcan after it passed through the veil. The ferryman had been none too pleased with my demands to rush, but he too felt the danger. Once I arrived in the human realm, I began following its trail of madness across the village as it chased after the scattered survivors from this morning's attack. I was relieved to find Tris holed up with several banshees and seen them racing back to safety of the ferry. Tris refused to leave my side.

Once the Lorcan sensed easier human targets, its focus shifted to a group of elderly playing cards. I was too late to save them, or the other victims it made throughout the day, but I'd find a way to save Devlin's friend from the beast about to take him down.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Devlin trying to stand, but he held firmly to his side. He would hurt later, especially when the alcohol I smelt on his breath dissipated. He'd be fine. His friend was the one in danger.

"Get off him," I shouted at the Lorcan and rammed into the crouching beast with enough force to bring the throbbing in my damaged leg back.

"Taryn, be careful!" Tris yelled. She clutched the herb bag Aed had given me tight.

My leg throbbed as the effects began to wear off, but there was no time to reapply. I'd just have to push through.

I rolled with it, curling my head under when we hit the ground. The weight of the Lorcan was suffocating for a few seconds before it rolled off. Its claws dug deep into the ground for traction but stopped only when it slammed against a headstone. The ground at the base of the stone uprooted, shifting it to an odd angle.

"Taryn, no! Get away from that thing," Devlin shouted from behind me as the Lorcan regained its footing. It appeared slightly dazed. That was good because I wasn't in top form myself.

It rose well over my height, staring me down with a hatred I felt deep within my soul. This one was not as large as the one I faced earlier in the day. It would not be as strong, but the obvious signs of decay told me it had been cunning enough to evade the reapers. I needed to be careful.

"Tris," I called over my shoulder. "Keep Devlin back."

"Who's Devlin?" she asked, looking in the direction I had indicated. "Wait...do ya mean the human? He can see me?"

I heard the rising panic in her voice as she noticed Devlin staring right at her.

"Aye. I can see ya just fine."

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Tris screeched.

"Human?"

I heard Devlin's confusion as he moved closer to Tris.

"Why did she just call me human? As opposed to what?"

I ducked a wide swinging arm and narrowly missed having my head knocked off my neck.

"Now is not the time...for this conversation." I dove to the right and scrambled back to my feet, dagger in hand, waiting for any sign of weakness in the beast.

Some of its scales were missing from its skin. Blood oozed down its chest and back. One of its claws had been ripped clean away. There were scorch marks from a reaper's whip along its hide. It had fought hard to escape capture. Even with its injuries, it looked in better condition than I was.

"Keep him back, Tris," I grunted and jabbed with my blade, aiming for one of the damaged scales but missed. My blade slid right off its armor and threw me off my balance.

The Lorcan breathed down my neck as I turned to run, knowing that if I didn't put distance between us and Devlin, he might end up doing something to get himself killed.

I wove through the headstones as fast as my leg would let me, leaping over those that rose nearly to waist height, but with each landing I began to feel increasing amounts of pain in my calf return. The numbing effects of the herbs Prince Aed gave me were wearing off. I had to finish this Lorcan off fast.

I frantically looked all around me, searching for anything that might give me an advantage. The Lorcan lumbered loudly behind me, puffing like a train as it barreled through the darkness.

The cemetery was framed by black wrought iron gates. There were several weeping willows nearby that I could use to get the Lorcan tangled with, but that would force me to get much closer than I wanted.

Standing in the moonlight ahead of me was a mausoleum. I took in its height, the intricate scrollwork on the closed wooden doors, and noted the fine craftsmanship in the stone that might provide handholds for me to climb with.

A plan began to form in my mind as I ran, leading the beast in that direction.

"Taryn, watch out!" Tris shrieked.

I instinctively reacted by leaping over a dark patch of ground in front of me and landed on the edge of a hole. My arms pinwheeled as I tried to remain upright. Devlin's hand grasped my arm and yanked me towards him.

"Let's go," he ordered.

"No." I pulled back. "I have a plan."

With the Lorcan less than five feet behind, I turned Devlin to face off with the Lorcan, praying that its eyesight was not good in the night.

"Get ready to dive to the side when I tell ya to." I placed a hand on his arm, ready to shove him to safety in case he froze.

The Lorcan's nostrils flared and hot breath puffed from its lips as it lowered its head and charged.

"Come on," I whispered.

Devlin looked between me and that monster heading directly for us. "Am I supposed to be the bait?"

"Aye."

"Bloody hell." He moved slightly in front of me in a protective stance. I saw his body go taut as if he expected to take on the full brunt of the charging beast for me.

I was sure up until the final second that the Lorcan would fall into the newly dug grave, but it sank the claws of its back feet deep into the edge of the carved earth and leapt.

"Shite!" I shoved Devlin as hard as I could and then dove after, landing on top of him. His grunt of pain mirrored my own but was lost to the raging howl of the Lorcan as it landed face first in the dirt. Its legs and arms flailed as it tried to right itself.

"Go, go, go. We have to move, now." I grabbed at Devlin's shirt and tugged for him to follow, but he didn't move. "Devlin?"

His eyes were closed and his breathing steady but shallow. I pressed my hand to his forehead and realised he was bleeding. He must have hit one of the stones when I knocked him to the side.

Thinking fast, I looked at the mausoleum. Climbing would be tricky with my throbbing calf. I had already begun to bleed through again.

Glancing down at Devlin's prostrate form, I felt at war with myself. It had been stupid to use him as bait. Could I really do it a second time?

I surged to my feet.

The Lorcan's enraged howl made my blood run cold. I had never toyed with one of these beasts before and knew that if anything went wrong, I would be sacrificing Devlin's life.

"Hold on, Devlin," I whispered and sprinted towards the building.

I could hear the Lorcan overturning headstones as it moved back towards Devlin. Tucking my blade into the sheath at my side, I began to climb. The pressure in my calf made the blood flow freely down into my boot, making it hard to keep from slipping.

I climbed as fast as I could, reaching the domed roof within seconds of leaving Devlin's side, but it felt like an eternity had passed. In the moonlight, I could see Tris standing not far from the entrance of the cemetery. She was knelt down beside Devlin's friend as he writhed and cried out in pain. The Lorcan's poison had already begun to spread.

I knew that pain all too well.

Below me, the beast shoved Devlin onto his back. He was still unconscious and limp, but the sight of blood along his hairline worried me because I was afraid the Lorcan's claws had touched him. Judging by the lack of black poison, he had only been knocked down. Still, Devlin was very clearly hurt.

I crouched low and forced myself to wait as the Lorcan prepared for its Death Kiss. Every part of me ached to jump in and save Devlin, but if I moved too soon we'd both be dead.

The telltale pop of the Lorcan jaw sent me scrambling towards the edge. I curled my fingers around the stone. When the outline of Devlin's body began to grow fuzzy, I leapt.

The impact of hitting the Lorcan's armor plated shoulder knocked the air out of my lungs. I slammed hard to the ground, tasting dirt and rotted leaves left over from autumn. The Lorcan's guttural cry sent me scrambling to the edge.

It had landed on its back in the grave, wedged tight in the narrow space. Given the time, it would dig its way out. I reached for my dagger at my hip but found the sheath empty. Whirling around, I tried to see through the dark. I must have lost it when I shoved Devlin aside.

I crawled over to him and felt around on the ground but came up empty-handed.

"Think, Taryn."

I looked around in search of a weapon, but the only one that might be strong enough to pierce its flesh was wrought iron lance, but I didn't have the strength to pry a bar loose.

And then I saw it. Less than two feet from the hole was an uprooted headstone the Lorcan had hit when it first dove for us.

I raced to it and tried to push it towards the hole, but it was far too heavy. Even using every bit of strength I had left in me, I barely made it shift.

From the darkness below I could hear the Lorcan trying to move. It had begun to dig.

There were no pipes or large tree branches around to use as leverage. The willow wood would be too soft anyways.

I glanced at the mausoleum and remembered the iron cross I'd held onto to steady myself before I leapt. It had shifted in my hand, loosened by years of dismal weather.

"About bloody time I get a break." I ran back to the stone building and began to climb. This second trip was far harder than the first. The pain was returning with a vengeance and I felt as if I were shredding my leg all over again.

Devlin's friend would need the few herbs that remained in the pouch. I would have to sacrifice my own pain to keep him from death's door.

"Oh, bugger." That thought sent ripples of terror through me. Death's door...King Baylor would know about this.

There wasn't time to consider just how screwed I was as I reached the roof and positioned my good foot against the cross. I kicked at it and cried out in pain as the reverberations worked their way into my bad leg. Three more hard strikes sent the cross toppling to the ground.

When I looked over the edge, I saw that one of the Lorcan's hands had already created a deep gouge in the earth to allow it to maneuver slightly higher in the hole. I dropped to the ground, trying to keep my wounded calf higher so the impact would not force me to black out. My vision was wavy and my head spinning, but I crawled towards the cross and began to drag it to the hole.

The snarling that echoed up from the small space was amplified as I passed by. Using both hands, I dug beneath the stone so there was room to shove the cross under the base.

On the first push, the stone rose a few inches. Beads of sweat formed on my brow with each push, but I made very little headway.

"For the love of the gods, move your heavy arse." I threw myself on top of the cross, laying my chest over it, and the stone rose up. "Yes!"

My cry of joy sent the Lorcan into a frenzy. Bits of earth near the top began to crumble and fall back into the hole.

"Bloody hell." Rising unsteadily to my feet, I knew I needed to hit the cross with as much weight and force as I could manage to finally tip the stone over into the hole.

I looked at the willow nearby and sighed.

"This is really going to hurt."

Reaching high to wrap the low hanging branches around my hands, I backed away. With a battle cry that would have made Eivin proud, I ran full out and leapt, swinging into the air. I made a wide arc and picked up speed. The branches pulled taut and for a moment I feared they'd snap under my weight, but they held firmly.

As I swung towards the cross I knew I'd only get one shot at this. I'd either properly judge the dismount and hit dead centre on the cross or overshoot it and land right on top of the Lorcan. If I did that, I was as good as dead.

"Come on," I growled, arched my back, and leapt.

I landed awkwardly on the cross, my bad foot slipping off, but the stone rose with enough height and force to send it teetering on the edge. I held my breath, praying for a miracle that came at the Lorcan's hand. The side that it had been digging against caved in and sent the headstone crashing down.

The snarls and grunts went silent as I rolled off the cross, feeling the ache in my backside from the abrupt landing. I was in bad shape by the time I crawled to the edge and saw the Lorcan disintegrate.

I began to laugh, from relief and exhaustion.

"Taryn!"

I looked up to see Tris running my way. She stopped when she saw me panting for breath at the edge of the hole. Devlin's still form lay not far away.

"Is he...?"

"No." I shook my head, my throat tightening at the sight of him. I couldn't stand to see him looking so helpless. "He should be fine. I'd wager he's going to have a nasty headache when he wakes."

"Will he remember any of this?"

I shrugged and winced at new waves of pain. "I canna say. I hope not. There are things no human should know."

"And what about you?" She hugged her arms around herself, rising on her toes to look into the hole. "You killed it, didn't ya?"

"Aye. Bloody hard work that was too." I winced as I pushed up to my feet. My leg started to give out on me and Tris rushed forward.

"Can ya tell me now how it is that the human over there canna see us, but that lad can?"

"No. I wish I understood it, but I don't. He just can, is all."

Tris' eyes grew wide. "He knows your name, Taryn."

"Aye." I limped past Devlin, hating to leave him behind like this, but his friend needed help and there was only one place he would get it. "All I can tell ya is that he's different."

I wanted to tell her everything that had happened to me, to finally relieve this burden with someone who might stick around in my life, but she wouldn't understand. She would judge me, feel that what I had done was wrong. I wouldn't let her taint what little happiness I had gained from getting to know Devlin.

"His friend, Seamus, is dying. We need to help him."

Her lips twisted into a frown of disapproval, but she didn't push the issue. Not yet at least. I knew she would soon.

When we arrived back at Seamus' side it was hard to see the extent of the Lorcan damage. A large black and scrolling tattoo had been inked into his shoulder. It hid some of the damage.

"He was screaming a lot," Tris whispered when she helped me to the ground. "But then he fell still."

"The poison is close to his heart. It may already be too late."

I ripped the fabric of his shirt to get a better look at the damage and heard Tris suck in a breath. I turned to stare at her. "Have you no decency? The lad is dying and you're admiring the view?"

She sniffed with indignation. "I canna help it if I like beautiful things."

Rolling my eyes, I ignored the hard planes of the guy's chest and focused instead on the black trails that were visible through his skin in the moonlight. The poison had already begun to work its way along his neck and was beginning to trail down towards his heart.

Reaching for the leather pouch at my side, I opened it and sprinkled the remaining contents into my hand.

"There's so little left," Tris whispered.

I nodded. "Pray that it will be enough."

"Enough for what?"

I gave her a look that told her not to argue with me. "To buy us some time. We need to get him more. We need to take him back to Eimear."

"You canna be serious. A human? In Netherworld? He would be killed on sight!"

"Aye." I nodded, standing up. "That's why he'll be staying with you. You're gonna nurse him back to health."

The plan was insane, but it was the only way I could think to save Seamus. And to prove that Lorcan were attacking humans too.

# CHAPTER TWENTY

## DEVLIN

MY HEAD THROBBED ITSELF into alertness before I fully awoke. Even without opening my eyes, I knew this was going to be one hell of a bloody hangover. I shifted position to try and ease the pain in my temples and my ribs ached in protest.

Opening one eye, I searched for my blanket to ward off the chill. Instead of my bedcovers, I found nothing but a frost covered ground.

"Stall the ball...Why am I outside?"

I bolted upright and instantly regretted it. My hand went up to my head to cushion the pounding there. My mouth was dry and my clothes were manky from a night spent on the ground. Everything seemed to hurt as I pulled myself up to standing. Squinting against the dim light of the dawn, I looked around the cemetery. Had I slept here all night then?

Nothing was making sense. "Think, mate." The last thing I remembered was walking to the cemetery with Seamus after the fight at the pub. I'd had a few nips, but had it been enough to black out?

One look around and I noticed Seamus was nowhere to be found, so he must have already gone on home. Or he'd passed out on the way back.

That was where I needed to be. Home. In bed. I wouldn't be able to think straight until this blasted headache was gone. It felt like I'd been bashed clear against my noggin. I must have taken a hit at the pub and not noticed. Adrenaline rushes could do that to ya.

I kept half an eye out for Seamus as I walked home, but I was too tired to pay much mind. My guess was that he made it back to his da's to pass out. He'd be safe there for now. His da would be passed out too. I'd see to it he'd come stay with us later when I could think clearer.

Somehow I made it home in one piece. How I made it into the house without waking Ma or Da was the bigger mystery. I was sure I wasn't being very quiet as I flopped across the floor.

My bed squeaked as I fell into it, ready for the pain to be slept away.

An unease nagged at me, or maybe that was the booze churning in my gut. Best not to think about it. Whatever it was, it could be sassed out later.

I passed out hard, exhausted from whatever the hell had happened the night before. When I heard my name being called out what seemed like only a few minutes later, I groaned.

"Devlin!" The light knocking on my door let me know it was Ma. "It's time for breakfast, luv."

While I didn't want to wake up, my stomach rumbled at the smell of bacon wafting up the stairs. Grease and hangovers worked well together.

Yawning, I opened my eyes and winced at the pain that still lingered. Sitting up, I rubbed at my forehead and was shocked to find dried blood there.

Ripping the covers off, I went to the bathroom to take a closer look. Blood ran from the base of my temple down to my jaw.

That would be why my head hurt so bloody much. I still didn't remember getting hit during the pub fight, but maybe I fell down at the cemetery? Had I been so sloshed with Seamus that I tripped and clocked my head on a headstone?

Using a cloth, I cleaned away the line of caked on blood that had run down the side of my cheek. When it was cleared away only a small gash remained. Easily covered if I parted my hair the other way. Which I would. No sense in letting Ma see this. She'd only fret. After all, it was only a scratch.

Dumping the cloth into the laundry bin, I winced. My side still hurt.

Lifting up my shirt, I discovered a large bluish-gray bruise all along the side of my ribs.

"Bugger."

What the hell happened last night?

I went back to my room to try Seamus' mobile, but it went right to voicemail. He'd likely let his battery run dry.

Grabbing a fresh shirt from my dresser, I stopped short when a memory of something dark flashed before me. I jumped backwards ready to attack something that wasn't there. "It was just your shadow, mate."

Somehow the words did little to reassure the rapid beating of my heart. Something wasn't right. It felt like I was forgetting something important.

As I was turning to go to breakfast an image hit me so hard I almost fell over. Seamus...and that thing.

I flew down the stairs, passing Ma, who was at the stove frying up some eggs.

"Devlin, where are you going? Breakfast is ready!"

I didn't stop to explain. Not that I could have even if I wanted to. I mean, what would I have said, 'Sorry, Ma. Gotta run. Need to make sure my best mate wasn't eaten by a grizzly bear.'

It wasn't a bear, that much I knew, but it wasn't any sort of animal I'd ever seen before either, so what exactly was it? My feet slowed as I tried to remember more. Taryn was there...and that other girl, Tris. Or had I dreamt it all? Bloody hell! Why couldn't I remember? I had to find Seamus.

My fist began pounding on the door as soon as I got to his da's. There was no answer, so I pounded again. I heard cursing from inside and a moment later Mr. Duffy opened the door. The smell of stale booze wafted off him, causing my stomach to lurch.

"Piss off, lad," his da slurred. He was in a dark green robe that wasn't tied. A dingy white tank poked out from underneath it. His thinning hair stood up in all directions as though he hadn't showered in weeks.

"I need to talk to Seamus."

"Then call him on his bloody mobile," he said, trying to shut the door on me.

"I've tried that. He's not answering."

"Then he's likely out rattling the bones of some bird. He's not here."

"I'd like to check that for myself if ya don't mind."

Not waiting for a reply, I pushed the door open and shoved his da out of the way. He stumbled a few steps backwards, almost knocking over a lamp on the table beside him.

I took the stairs two at a time, shouting for Seamus while his da was cursing at me for barging in. I wouldn't take long. Ten minutes tops. I only needed to know what happened last night and that he was okay. Then I'd leave them both in peace.

His room, however, was empty. His bed, though messy, still didn't look as though it had been slept in.

"Seamus!" I called again.

"I told you he wasn't here. The ungrateful bastard never came home last night. If he knows what's good for him he'll stay the hell away, too. He's done mooching off me." Mr. Duffy pointed his finger at me. "Now you get the hell out of my house or—" His hand reached for a bat near the door.

"Or you'll hit me, too?" I spat.

It was so hard to see Mr. Duffy like this. This wasn't the man Alana and I grew up with. That man was jovial and full of life; he loved to play catch with the three of us while Seamus' ma worked out in the garden. Of course, that was what drove him over the edge, when he lost his wife. Everything changed that day. We all saw it. I guess Seamus most of all.

"You get out of my house!" Mr. Duffy shouted, taking a few wobbly steps up the stairs. I couldn't tell if he was newly drunk or still drunk from the night before.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me where he is."

"My son is a freeloading waste of space. He's not welcome here and neither are you."

The upswing of the bat came then, just as I imagined it would. I caught the bat with my hand easily enough as his aim was shot due to his condition. He lost his footing and fell a few steps to the ground, shattering the empty beer bottle he had stowed in his robe pocket.

I tried to help him back up, but he started to swing the bat again in a haphazard way. Seeing no choice, I left. I knew he wouldn't follow after me. He wouldn't have the strength.

Where the hell was Seamus?

If he wasn't at home, then he could only be at the pub or the gym. I glanced at the time on my mobile. The pub wouldn't be open until eleven and after the scene we'd made last night, I couldn't imagine he'd be going back there anytime soon. The gym made the most sense. He'd likely have some aggression he'd want to get out.

When the gym turned out to be a dead end, I began to panic. I debated if I should tell the cops. Was it too soon to file a missing person report? Could he be in the hospital? Not likely. I opted to go back to the cemetery. Maybe he was there and I missed him. He was likely curled up at the base of a willow tree as anything.

My feet found their way back to the cemetery in quick time even though my side ached from the jog over. My stomach roared with hunger as I pushed my way through the gate of the cemetery. The sun was higher in the sky now, so I could see the grounds more clearly and what I saw made my skin grow pale. It looked like a war zone. The earth dug up and overturned headstones scattered the area near where Seamus had been last night.

My pace slowed as I walked over to the closest stone. I knelt down, placing my hand on the edge of it to see how extensive the damage was. It was insanity. The headstones looked as though it had been ripped right out of the ground and tossed to the side like a toy. But how? No human was strong enough to do what lay before me, and yet here it was.

Sinking to the ground, my fingers traced over four thick marks that were etched into the ground...claw marks.

The beast. The thing I had heard...pieces of memories were coming back.

My breath began to quicken.

"Come on, Devlin, remember." My fists pounded against the side of my head, trying to dislodge the key that would unravel this knot. And then it did.

It was real. Last night something evil had attacked Seamus...nearly tore his shoulder off. Taryn had shoved me down. She'd told me to keep my head down. After that, I couldn't remember much more. My head throbbed as I tried to recall the rest. I knew there was more to the night, but I couldn't seem to pull it from my memory.

What had happened to them all? Where were they now?

I sank down onto my knees, searching my mind for the answers.

My eyes darted to the trees. Had they gone into the woods for cover? It was the only logical place to go.

Standing, I took one look back at the ruins behind me and made my way into the woods to find them.

# CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

#

## TARYN

ONLY A DAY HAD passed since the attack on the docks, but you'd never know it by looking out my window. Instead of guards stationed on street corners in full armor, I saw soldiers tying banners and streamers onto lamp posts. Confetti carried on the breeze. The royal trumpets sounded, announcing that the gates to the castle had been opened.

Up and down my street, mothers primped their daughters for the royal ball instead of barring their doors. It was sickening how easily the king had shifted the people's attentions away.

I cringed as strands of hair were brutally ripped from my scalp. "Ease up, will ya? I doubt the prince fancies bald women."

"Mind your tongue, young lady." Ma gave my wet hair one final rub with the cloth before releasing me.

I had already endured nearly three hours of her preparations so far and I was well beyond my breaking point. My da was smart and buggered off the first chance he got when Ma started fussing.

Looking into the warped mirror in front of me, I grimaced at the mop of blond tangles that would leave me with an even bigger headache once I'd managed to comb all of them free.

"Finish up and don't ya be dawdling." Ma rushed out of my room to see to my sisters' preparations while I sank back into my chair and stared at myself in the mirror.

A swatch of hair lay across my eye, partially concealing the Lorcan scars. I was no longer alone in carrying the marks since the attack on the docks, but I still heard the whispers about me whenever I passed people on the streets. The rumours about my bravery in aiding the reapers had spread far and wide. The pariah had suddenly become the hero.

I knew the king had to be seething over that one. Overnight I'd not only become untouchable, but he'd also been made to look like a fool. The only way to save face was to redirect the gossip and so...the royal ball had to go on. And Da insisted that I show my face...and not make a scene.

"What is the matter with ya?" Ma bustled back into my room, her hands fluttering anxiously at her sides as she approached. Her lips pressed into thin lines of frustration. When she lifted her finger to wag it at me, I knew I was about to endure another scolding for the day. That would make my fourth since breakfast.

"Do ya not see the sky? Night has already begun to fall and here ya are standing about." She barely allowed me a second to protest before she leapt back in. "The ball is startin' soon and ya still look like a drowned rat. If only the gods had seen fit to give me a son!"

I stuck out my tongue when she turned to peel back the curtain of my makeshift closet. My room was tiny. Good thing I didn't have the voracious love of fashion that Tris and my sisters shared because there would be no room to store anything. Instead of ribbons and purses lining the pegs on my walls, I had worn satchels useful for my trips to the Bannow Sea.

"Here we are." My mother's eyes misted over as she held out my dress. It was simple, yet elegant. It was also the exact colour of my eyes. She brushed her hand over the thin shoulder straps and frowned. "We'll have to work at covering your scars."

"You'll be doing no such thing. If ya want me to go then I'm going as me."

She spluttered and the dress dragged along the ground. "You canna possibly think I will allow you to walk around the streets flaunting those hideous marks."

That was a low blow and though it didn't shock me that Ma would say it, it still hurt.

"They are a part of me, whether ya like it or not."

Her face blotched red at my defiant tone. "How dare you!"

She ground her back teeth as heavy footsteps headed our way.

"What's going on in here? The neighbours are sure to hear this racket down the street."

At the mention of the neighbours, Ma glanced towards the windows. The shutters were drawn but sound easily travelled when your walls were shared among a row of homes. "Taryn insists on baring her scars at the ball."

My da glanced towards me. Though Ma may not see it from her angle, I saw his wink. "I should think so."

"What?" Ma stepped back as if he'd just taken a swing at her. "You're not serious!"

"Of course I am." Da moved into the room to rest his hands on her shoulders. "You canna protect her forever. Besides, the prince has already seen them, isn't that so, Taryn?"

I grinned. "That he has."

Ma's face scrunched up as she looked towards the hall. "But what of Iona and Kyna? They won't stand a chance of being noticed if she's around!"

I snorted and crossed my arms over my chest. "Nice to know ya care about my good standing with the people now."

When Ma's face turned the colour of a ripe beet, Da stepped between us. "The whole city is talkin' about our Taryn. Thanks to your rumour mongering she's become a legend. Seeing her face and other scars won't be a shock to anyone."

"But they are horrid." Ma pouted, wringing her hands.

Da's grip tightened on her. "Nothin' about our daughter is horrid."

She glanced up at him and noticed the tension in his face. Her own complexion paled at the fire in his eyes. "Fine. If you're wanting to ruin any chance she has of finding a suitor tonight then by all means. I know you've been conspiring against me."

Without another word, Ma flung the dress at me and left.

"Was she always this mental?" I asked when the door slammed shut.

"No." Da's shoulder drooped. "Things have been hard ever since I returned from the Wall all those years ago."

"Aye. I know that, Da, but that gives her no right to be so foul." I glared at the closed door.

In truth, I couldn't actually remember a time when my ma was overly kind to me. I had never been what she wanted. I guess I was too much like my da. After Da's injuries fighting at the Wall left him unfit to be a royal guard, shame fell on our family. A shame my ma could never accept. Since then she had taken it upon herself to elevate our family back to its rightful place through hopes of a good marriage for me. But I wanted no part in that.

Da placed a hand on my shoulder. "Try to grin and bear it tonight. I know ya hate it but think of your sisters. Let them dance and make memories. Show up. Smile. Be the hero people think ya are in front of the king and maybe this will smooth over in time."

I tried to smile and reassure him as he left, but I didn't have it in me. I was still exhausted from dragging Devlin's friend all the way through the veil. Not to mention fighting with Tris over her having to take him home with her. My home was out of the question since I was likely being watched. The only thing that soothed her insult at not being present at the ball was that she would be playing nurse with a guy she considered to be gorgeous. At least the guy was unconscious enough not to see her peeking under his shirt, which she did several times on the ferry ride home.

I threw my balled up towel at the mirror. "It's all just a bleeding waste of time."

Tris had only a basic medicinal supply at her house. It would be enough to keep Seamus alive, but it wouldn't heal him. He needed a trained healer with access to herbs far more potent that I could get at a local shop.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I tapped my fingers against the wooden dresser as a plan formed in my mind. "I wonder..."

I turned and looked at my dress with a new vision. Perhaps I could get the prince's attention again and find a way to ask him for help. He was a soldier who knew far more than he let on. I saw the pain in his eyes at the dock when he spoke of his lost men. If I could lean on that side of him, maybe I could get him to see reason.

"I'm selling my soul for a human. That's rich." I buried my head in my hands.

It wasn't just any human, though. It was someone Devlin cared about. I knew I had to do this, if only to help ease his pain. Devlin couldn't lose two people he cared deeply about. He was already so close to breaking.

What my sisters imagined to be a night of splendor and romance would be nothing more than a sickening show of extravagance. I didn't want to go to the castle and dine on a meal that probably cost an entire month's wage for my parents. I didn't get along with pompous people who thought better of themselves than they really were. But what choice did I have? A man's life was at stake and he wouldn't be the last.

An incessant banging on my door finally got me up and moving. I slipped the teal silk over my head, marveling at how cool it was against my skin, easing the humidity that clung to the city after yesterday's storm. Tris should have been the one going tonight instead of me. She would have been a vision of beauty in her pale ivory dress and could have at least enjoyed her time spent inside the castle walls.

For the first time today I wished she were here. She would have found a way to help make me laugh, probably by reminding me that looking like a sour puss wasn't an attractive quality. As soon as I considered just how eagerly she would have leapt at the opportunity to do a makeover on me, I was grateful she was on the other side of town.

I glanced at the array of powders laid out on my table and turned away. I had no need for primping.

"It does need a little something..." I chewed on my lower lip and looked through the pile of ribbons that Ma borrowed from my sisters' stash. Selecting a slip of silver, I began plaiting my hair back so that the scars over my eye were not only easily seen, but highlighted.

Next to the eye powder I found teardrop earrings. I scrunched up my nose at them and put them on, only out of love for my da. I knew the long hours he had to work to be able to afford such finery. A matching necklace sat heavy in the hollow of my neck.

After slipping on my silver slippers, I was finally ready to endure a night of pure hell.

My sisters were already outside when I emerged from the house, each of them decked out in identical ankle-length dresses of pale blue and lavender. Their hair was coiled in blond ringlets about their faces and with Ma's expert hand with makeup, they could almost pass as being seventeen.

"What took ya so long?" Kyna complained in a nasal voice as she fluffed her hair.

"I told ya Ma should have let her stay home. She always ruins everything," Iona added, whispering loud enough to be sure I heard.

"You wouldn't be going at all without me, so how about ya try something new and show a bit of gratitude for the first time in your lives."

Iona and Kyna glared openly at me but said nothing. I took that as a win. At least their silence would be better than their endless prattle. If they started in again about how dreamy Prince Aed was, I might have to shove them in the castle fountain and laugh as their makeup washed away.

My sisters' heels clacked against the uneven stone as they turned and marched towards the castle. My home stood in the shadow of the queen's hanging garden. Aed's bedroom was probably only a stone's throw away, a fact that I'd been mercilessly hounded with by my sisters since his return.

I followed behind them, near enough for my presence to be known, but not close enough to get a headache from their squealing excitement.

Eimear was built in the middle of rolling lands that gave way into the pastures to the south and rose to the peaks of the mountains to the north. The hill we climbed to reach the castle would be a good workout on a normal day. Wearing heels made it an obstacle course.

Already I could hear the chatter from behind the castle wall. Hundreds of voices rose and fell like the tides, each one pitched high with anticipation. It didn't take long before we came to a halt at the end of a very long, winding line.

My sisters waved to their schoolmates several groups ahead. Iona glanced back at me, her eagerness plainly written across her face.

"Go on then, but if ya get into any trouble I'm telling Da."

I knew not to threaten them with telling Ma. They had that woman wrapped so tightly around their fingers they'd never see the back of a hand for the rest of their days. Da was different. He didn't cave to their tears.

Iona grabbed Kyna's hand and together they rushed forward, erupting into a fit of giggles when they reached their friends.

"Look at them," I grumbled to myself. "It's revolting."

"I'm sorry. Were ya speaking to me?" an elderly woman asked and I shied away from her. She smelt like moth balls.

The line to enter the castle grounds took ages to maneuver. By the time I passed under the fluttering of the royal banner that draped over the entry arch, my healing calf was screaming abuse at me. The herbal paste I applied earlier would keep much of the pain at bay, but more time was needed for a full healing.

Twinkling white candle lights wound through the trees, illuminating the deep bow of the limbs. Flickering lanterns lined the stone path that curved around past the circle entry and straight up the steps of the castle. Crimson and silver banners waved from the turrets of the castle, each boasting the royal knot symbol that had been Eimear's crest for thousands of years. Soft music drifted from within, barely heard over the din of voices. If I listened closely, I could pick out the hypnotic strumming of a harp and lyre.

"That harp is going to put everyone to sleep." As I walked past a guard at the door, I'd swear I saw him smirk.

People crowded in around me, vying for the best position in line as we approached the entry hall. I couldn't stand the press of sweaty bodies against me, hemming me in. I wanted to be free to run at a moment's notice. I promised I'd come, not that I'd stay. That was Ma's downfall. The instant I finished pleading my case with the prince I had every intention of racing for the nearest exit.

Beyond the marble entry, towering pillars drew my gaze into the largest room I'd ever seen. Steps led directly down onto a vast floor where couples twirled gracefully in time with the music. Women adorned in every colour of the rainbow, shifting about the room, peering around for the arrival of the prince, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Morrigan, Queen of Eimear, was a vision in crimson perched on the edge of her seat at the far end of the hall. Her flaming hair spilled over creamy shoulders. The slit of her dress rose much higher than would be deemed decent on any other woman.

I paused in line and found myself noticing the stark difference between Queen Morrigan and her husband as I glanced at the gilded painting on my right. King Baylor was nearly thirty years her senior, with peppered hair and beard. Deep lines cut along his eyes and brow, the stress of ruling the Netherworld evident in how drawn his face looked.

Tris once told me the tale of how this ill-matched pair began. Morrigan had been chosen as Baylor's betrothed long before Baylor seized the throne for himself. In fact, it was her dowry that had helped to fund the coup.

Morrigan had barely been my age when she was chosen for Baylor. Tris told me she came from an elite family in Finbar, just beyond our shores where her beauty had been legendary, but her family's wealth even more so.

I stared hard at the regal couple sitting upon the raised platform. They were clothed in splendor, draped in precious jewels, some of which must have been mined from the human world instead of our own.

"I would never marry a man I didn't love." I looked away from the unhappy couple.

Craning my neck to look up at the crystal chandeliers, I noticed they cast rainbows onto the dance floor. Wide molding, rich with gold inlay, connected the vaulted ceiling with the wallpapered walls. Everywhere I looked, I saw gobs of money wasted.

"Disgusting," I muttered under my breath.

A woman beside me huffed indignantly. "Ungrateful wretch. You don't even deserve to be here."

"At least I'm not a gold digger looking to hide a few of those fancy golden forks in my bag," I shot back.

The woman gasped and placed a hand against her perfect golden coif. Her fingers looked shrunken and her veins easily seen under her tissue paper thin skin. "Of all the impudent things to say."

"At yet, we both know I'm right. I'll just go whisper a little something to that guard over there..."

"Well, I never." The woman gathered her skirts and stormed off. I held my stomach as I laughed at how easy it had been to annoy her. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so horrible after all.

As I shuffled along, I felt as if I were being watched. Not by those nearest to me, although I had caught on to more than one demeaning glance, but from somewhere above. I glanced at the balcony, hidden by shadow beyond the lit candle sconces, and noticed something no one else had yet: Prince Aed stood watching the ballroom.

I stared openly back up at him, daring him to be the first to look away. A slow smile tugged at his lips and he dipped his head in my direction before turning to acknowledge a guard who stepped forward to speak to him. When he turned back I had already ducked behind a column. I watched him search for me for a moment and then he disappeared from sight.

Even with the hundreds of couples already enjoying the dance, I found a way to squeeze along the back wall and found a small nook to place myself well out of the way. It still gave me a decent view of the royal couple.

From this distance, I noted that the High King had aged far more than his painting let on. Perhaps the rumours of his failing health really were true. One could only hope.

Men, dressed in long flowing silver cloaks with a crimson and plum overlay, stepped to the railing of the balcony and raised long horns to their lips. I dug my fingers into my ears just before the bellowing call began and enjoyed the startled looks of those nearest to me. Their shock quickly turned to wonder and delight and I lost interest in watching them as Morrigan and Baylor rose from their thrones.

A hush fell over the vast room and the horn blasts faded away. The dancers quickly moved off the floor as two men marched down the centre of the room, rolling out a red carpet that led directly to the raised platform.

All heads turned to watch as a set of double doors near the back of the room spread wide to reveal a single man. Despite my better judgment, I too rose onto my toes to get a better view.

Prince Aed was dressed all in black, from his polished boots to the fitted waistcoat and combed hair. It was longer than I remembered, reaching nearly to his shoulders, and parted down the middle to reveal piercing brown eyes.

His approach was slow and deliberate, his gait hinting only slightly at the swagger he was known for. Now that he was no longer covered in blood and grime, it was easy to see just how much he had changed since leaving Eimear. His shoulders were broader, as were his arms and thighs. Living in the Hollow Lands had hardened him, made him a warrior. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he slowly mounted the four steps that led to his parents. Just before he reached them, he knelt and bowed his head. A rustle of silk instantly followed as every guest followed suit.

I swore as I struggled to get down low enough. My dress was too tight at the hip and waist to properly curtsey. Thankfully, the moment passed quickly. Aed reached up to kiss his father's ring and then rose to embrace his mother.

Smiles were all around me, eyes wide with wonder, but mine narrowed in on the tension emanating between mother and son. Was I the only one not blinded by the splendor of it all to notice how forced this felt?

Maybe I was wrong about Aed. Maybe he really was here for more than a good time. I could only hope that meant he might be more open to my pleas for help.

As Aed took his seat on the left side of his father, the music resumed. I laughed as girls stumbled over their dresses to be the first to arrive back on the floor. Their eyes remained riveted on Aed instead of their partners as they twirled about.

"Isn't it wonderful?" I turned at the sound of a woman's voice over my shoulder as she spoke to her daughter. "You're a Bannigan. You'll be among the first to be presented to the prince."

Presented? How could Ma not have told me that I'd have to be presented to the royals? Of course she wouldn't tell me. If she had, she knew I would've never come.

I pressed my forehead into my hand. I couldn't go up there and let the king get a good look at me. That would just be placing a bloody target on my back for him to aim at.

Deciding I'd have to find another way of finding aid for Seamus, I weaved through the crowd, calling my apologies as I made a path where there was none before. The wall quickly became my friend as I worked my way to the back of the room as the people continued to spill in through the front doors. Hardly anyone took notice of me as I searched for an exit. Their attention was too focused on Prince Aed, whose smile was plastered so expertly on his face that I wanted to gag at the hypocrisy of it.

My fingers traced the wallpaper, flitting from velvet to glossy silver. The design wasn't too bad when you looked at a single symbol, but when you stepped back that pattern became nauseating.

"Sneaking off, are we?"

I whipped around and tumbled into the arms of the boy who spoke. His hands gripped my waist as I rose unsteadily.

"Oh! Hi, Carrick. You startled me."

When he smiled, it stretched the skin of his cheeks and chin tight enough to easily see each pockmark on his face. I tried not to stare as I made an attempt to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles on my dress so I wouldn't hear Tris' nickname, Crater Face Carrick, repeating in my mind.

"I didn't think I'd see the likes of you in this place tonight." He finally released his grasp on me. Although we grew up together in the same school I'd hardly consider him a close friend.

When I looked up, I discovered I was almost directly in line with the prince now.

"Are you okay, Taryn? Ya seem a bit out of sorts."

"It's a bit stuffy in here. I need some fresh air."

Carrick laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. I blinked, shocked to find that he too had filled out since leaving school. If it weren't for his blemished face, he wouldn't be all that bad to look at.

"You think I'm going to buy that load of horse dung? I did go to school with ya since we were five, ya know? You never stuck around for anything you didn't like and this"—he waved his arms around him in a tight circle—"is not you."

"So? Why are you here?" I shot back, hoping to divert him.

His expression turned sour as he pointed past me and I noticed the dance floor no longer held swirling couples, but a long line of anxious girls. A bubbly white-blond-haired girl stood six people back from the prince, eager to find an opportunity to sneak up the line. "That's my wee sis. Ma made me bring her."

"Ah." I nodded in understanding. "Looks like you'll be needin' some fresh air too."

His eyes widened and then settled into a look of expectation that made me deeply uncomfortable.

"No, I didn't mean you and I...it's not like—bugger." I shook my head and then just walked away.

A nasal cry broke through my thoughts as I retreated. "No, I swear. I am a Bell."

His sister's pleading didn't seem to be changing anyone's mind as they carried her off, bucking wildly as she reached out her hand towards the prince for mercy. Aed might not have known that she was a Mullan, but everyone else did.

"They've all gone insane," I muttered as disorder reigned and the king rose to silence the room.

The crowd of people proved to be much thinner in the corner where the view was not ideal. I scanned the back wall, searching for an open window, a doorway, anything that could give me an escape. Name after name of eligible girls were called by a monotone voice belonging to a thin-faced man standing just to the side of the dais.

I nearly cried out with relief when I felt a cool breeze brush against my arm and noticed a tiny sliver of black that didn't seem to fit with the rest of the wall. "A secret exit. Very clever."

"Taryn Brennan."

I turned, surprised to hear my name called. The regal man holding the scroll looked over his spectacles at the next girl standing in line. Her face was a mask of excitement and confusion. He wriggled his finger at her and she rushed forward, nearly tripping over the frill of her long dress.

"Are you a Brennan?" His voice carried in the nearly silent room.

"No, sir," she squeaked out. "My name is Maeve Browne. Ya just called her sisters before me."

He glanced over at where Iona and Kyna stood on the sidelines. Their expressions were ones of horror as the entire room turned to look at them.

The announcer looked at the king. "Sire?"

"Proceed," Queen Morrigan answered for him. Her expression was thunderous as she scanned the crowd, obviously searching for the girl who dared to stand up her son.

I laughed as my fingers caught on the door latch and I slipped out of the room and into the passage beyond. Free at last.

# CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

## AED

I TURNED MY FACE to the cool breeze filtering through the arched windows beside me. Sweat clung to my lower back and forehead. The ballroom was stifling, in more ways than one, and I was glad to be free of it.

Moonlight dappled the hall ahead while flickering torch light lined the hall. This passage was rarely used, kept secret from all but my family and closest guards.

I hugged close to the wall as I searched for Taryn. The girl never ceased to amaze me. There were no signs of her passage. No sound to reveal her location, but I knew she was there. I saw her slip away from the great hall when she thought no one was looking.

The sound of a cracking branch reached me a moment before a light appeared from down the corridor. The light swung from a guard's hand as he made his rounds. Pressing back against the wall, I waited for him to disappear into a passageway that led to my mother's sitting room.

A soft blue glow spilled through an opening up ahead. That was where I suspected she had gone. Approaching the ledge, I peered down through tree limbs to the grass below and saw her sneaking away from the wall.

Her hair was darker than most other girls, an array of deep blonds and browns woven at the top of her head. Her dress was a perfect match for her stunning teal eyes, made brighter by the dark scarring around her left eye. Her feet were bare against the thick blades of grass as she twirled around, her expression rapt with wonder. I understood that feeling. The first time I laid eyes on this glass house, I knew it was magical.

She tilted her head back to stare at the slanted windows nearly twenty feet overhead. Moonlight drifted down through the tangle of trees, a species of willow, ill-suited for our ever-shifting temperatures, yet within these walls of glass, it thrived. She trailed her fingers along the heavy fronds. Bright orange and white fish flitted about under the surface of a bubbling pond a few feet from her and I enjoyed the expression of wonderment that softened her features.

"What is this place?" she whispered.

I fought the urge to answer her, wanting to watch her a moment longer.

Hundreds of hanging pots tapered down from the roof, each one spilling over with white moonflowers, bluebells, yellow daisies, tiger lilies, and many other species of flowers. Apart from the turquoise river that flowed into the Bannow Sea from the distant shores of the Isle of Glass, no other colours could rival this secret garden for beauty.

I stepped onto a thick branch of the nearest tree and descended with ease. Leaping to the ground, I fell still to watch her. She dipped her toes into the edge of the water, creating tiny ripples in the surface.

"So beautiful."

"I assure you that my mother feels the same way."

The girl whirled around as I stepped out from behind the tree.

When I moved into the light I knew she recognized me. I could see it in the way her eyes narrowed with suspicion and distrust.

"I could have your head for trespassing," I teased. "This is a sacred place."

A blush rose in her cheeks, but she stared back with open defiance, daring me to sound the alarm. When I did not, she shrugged. "I was only lookin' for an exit. I must have gotten lost, is all."

"Lost?" I enjoyed her attempt to downplay her breaking and entering stunt. "The main gates should have been a rather obvious choice."

She stepped back from the pool. "Being obvious is boring."

"Indeed."

Leaning back against the tree, I crossed one leg over the other. The buckles of my polished boots glistened in the moonlight overhead, catching her eye.

"I'm intrigued as to how you came to be in this hall in the first place. There are only two entrances to this part of the castle. One of them happens to reside not far from my personal chambers." I paused for effect, enjoying the heat that made her pale skin bloom with red. "It would not be the first time I caught a girl sneaking into my room."

"What a shocker," she snorted, "but ya won't be finding the likes of me there."

The material of her dress pulled taut when she crossed her arms and my gaze shifted to the charred claw marks. Besides the obvious wounds on her face, there were other markings along her shoulder, chest, and arms. While many of these marks were fresh, the ones on her face were far too advanced in their healing to have been from the day before. The battle at the docks was not her first run-in with a Lorcan.

"You implied yesterday that my father was to blame for your scars."

She nodded but said nothing. I could feel her weighing my words, trying to determine my intent.

"Why would you claim such a thing?"

"Because it's the truth."

I stepped closer to her and watched as she tensed. It was a natural fight or flight reaction I had seen in men, but never among girls her age. Whoever trained her to rely on her instincts had done a fine job.

"That must be quite a story. How does it end?"

Her gaze shifted onto my hair before it fell to my face. I remained still as her silent observation flitted over my jaw and then to my lips before finally rising to meet my eyes. I didn't shy away from her inspection. Rather, I was amused by it, which only seemed to annoy her even more.

She gritted her teeth and waved a hand over her face. "Isn't it obvious?"

I stared at her for a moment and then threw back my head in laughter. She was so intense that I might have believed her to be one of my soldiers if not for the dress that sat so well on her appealing curves.

To another man, her scars might have seemed hideous, but standing there, facing off with her open defiance, I found myself moved by her. The fire in her eyes and the strength in her stance told me she was a fighter, just like me.

Her sex was not meant to wield weapons. Perhaps that was a fact that my father discovered. My smile vanished. Could he really have been involved in this girl's wounds? I didn't want to consider it, but I knew better. My father had done terrible things before.

"Would you like to blame my father for why you stood me up earlier as well?"

She dragged out her silence for nearly a full minute before she responded. "It was for the best."

"For you? Or for me?"

"Both." She shifted her weight and looked beyond me. I wasn't fooled by her casual attempt to look around. She was searching for an escape route.

"You seem to dislike me a great deal for someone who doesn't know me."

"I don't take kindly to spoiled brats abandoning their posts to leave good men to die in your place at the Wall, just so you can win the heart of some wee lass."

The disgust on her face felt like a knife to the heart. The judgment in her eyes was a pronouncement of the very guilt I felt these last few days. However, to hear them spat from her lips was brutal.

I felt anger, both at myself and this girl. She dared to speak so boldly to the heir of the throne, and yet she didn't seem to fear me, or respect an ounce of the authority I held over her. What I saw staring back at me was an intense loathing.

"You shouldn't speak about things you have no understanding in," I warned.

"So I am wrong then?" She challenged.

I ground my back teeth. Damn her and the ease with which she got under my skin.

"You show no concern for your safety and well-being. That much is obvious"—I motioned to her visible scars—"but what about your family? Use some common sense, lass. You are in my home. These walls have ears and they are not as forgiving as I am."

Her eyes darkened with anger and she took a step towards me. "Forgiving? So speaking the truth is now something I'm to be forgiven for then? To hell with you and your family. I want no part of it."

She turned to go.

"Taryn, stop."

It was not a command, so much as a plea. I couldn't let her leave. Not like that.

"You know my name?" she whispered.

"You were the only girl who dared to stand me up. It wasn't hard to figure it out."

She turned and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fair enough."

I couldn't help but notice she was quite stunning in a fierce sort of way.

"So you know my name. Good on ya."

Not to be so easily dismissed, I went on. "I actually know a great deal about you. You are passionate, willing to sacrifice for those beliefs and you are fearless. I admire those traits in a woman."

"You can take your bloody admiration and shove it up your arse. I want no part of ya, Prince Aed. I just want to be left alone."

"Then why did you come?" I called when she started to turn her back on me again.

She took several deep breaths before she turned back to look at me. When she did, she couldn't meet my gaze.

"I wanted to see you."

I shot up an eyebrow.

"Not like that," she said, rolling her beautiful eyes at me. "I need your help," she muttered.

That was the last thing I expected to hear from her. "You're joking."

"No." She ran her hands through her hair, snagging her finger in the ribbon braided through the dark blond strands. She yanked it free and tossed the ribbon aside. "I've got a problem I can't solve on my own."

"I'm listening," I said, keenly interested in what her problem might be.

"There's a man. He's ill."

The sword hilt at my side clinked against my crest ring when I placed my hands on my hips. A twinge of jealousy settled into my chest. "Do I look like a healer to you?"

"Of course not," she snapped and I fell silent. She sure was a feisty one. "That's the problem. I canna take him to a healer."

I moved closer to her. "And why is that?" I could think of no reason someone couldn't seek out the care of a healer.

She drilled me with her gaze. "It's complicated, alright? I used the last of the herbs you gave me on him, but he'll die without more. So will ya help me or no?"

"No." I shook my head. "Absolutely not."

"No? Are ya going to be petty now and make me beg? I won't do it." She wagged her finger at me. "Not to give ya the satisfaction, I won't."

That was an appealing thought. Seeing this girl beg might be worth breaking into my mother's medicinal store for.

"I do not lend my aid when I am left in the dark as to the details. How am I to know that you haven't done anything illegal?" My laughter trailed off when she looked away. "Bloody hell, it is illegal. What have you done?"

"Nothing." She grabbed at her skirts and started away. "I was a fool to think ya would even give a damn about helping someone."

"Now hold on just a second!" I raced around her and placed a warning hand on her shoulder. When she pushed against me, I held her back. "You don't get to come into my home and accuse me of being a cold-hearted pain in your arse without giving me some benefit of the doubt. You owe that to me, if not as a decent person then for the fact that I am your future king."

She actually snorted. At her prince.

"And what good will ya be to me when you become king? You'll only be another bully just like your father. A man who cares only for his status rather than the suffering of his people."

My grip on her shoulder tightened at her words. "I am not my father." My words were slow. Forceful. I knew only too well how different my father and I were. To hear this girl compare us as equals made my own blood boil.

"Then prove it." She slammed her arm into mine and ducked to sweep her leg around, knocking me to the ground before I had a chance to realise she'd even attacked me.

Her chest rose and fell as she yelled down at me. "Prove to me that you are more than the rumours. That you are truly the man who has won countless victories at the Wall defending our freedom. Show me that ya give a damn!"

Never before had I seen a girl so lit up with righteous anger and so beautiful at the same time. The scent of her reminded me of the fields of wildflowers that lay just this side of the Wall, where life and beauty still existed. My heart beat against my ribs as I breathed in deep and fought to control the urge to unplait her hair just to see it fall free and wild.

She was not like other girls, though. I reached out and took hold of her ankle, yanking her down beside me. She landed with a thud and rolled to pin her to the ground. Though she bucked and twisted beneath me, I held firm until she stopped trying to escape.

"I do give a damn," I hissed. "And if you'd given me more than two seconds to think about it before bashing my head in, I would've already told you that."

Her breathing slowed as the fight in her eyes dimmed. Letting out a breath of my own, I released her shoulders. She watched me as I eased off her and sank to the ground. Once she was seated, I felt a flash of guilt when I saw I'd torn her dress, though she didn't seem like the type to care much about that.

"You're only half-right about why I'm here." I paused to shift my sword to the side so that the hilt was no longer jabbing me in the ribs. "My father demanded that I return. I didn't want to leave my post. Hell, I would've fought tooth and nail if there was any other option, but when I saw the Lorcan heading for Eimear what choice did I have?"

"To stay and fight!" she insisted.

I shook my head. "He refused to send more troops unless I agreed to return and take a bride. I came back to protect my men, not to abandon them."

"Why would your father do that?" she whispered and drew her knees up into her chest.

I laughed. Little did she know how twisted my father really was. "For power, of course. He has an insatiable thirst for it. Once he claimed the throne, he spent the rest of his time fearing he'd lose it. Why do you think I got banished to the Wall in the first place? I may be his blood, but I'm no threat to him."

"So you came back for your men, not just for a bride?"

"Aye." I sank lower on my knees and bowed my head. "There isn't a moment that passes that I don't think about my men dying in my place. You are right. It's only a matter of time before the Wall is going to fall. It's not a matter of if, but when. I should be there defending it, not here dressed up like my father's puppet."

I yanked off my coat and threw it to the side. One sleeve fell at the water's edge and a small orange fish swam over to investigate.

"I don't want to marry anyone, Taryn. I'm not the boy you remember. That boy died on the Wall."

She pursed her lips and remained silent for a moment. I looked up when I felt her hand rest on top of mine.

"You're right. I can see that now. That boy is gone and in his place is a man fightin' to be his own person. The question is, will ya let him?"

"What choice do I have?"

"You have every choice," she suddenly burst out. Her hand tightened on top of mine. "We all have our orders! A lot in life we were given, but some of us choose to rebel against it."

I laughed and swept my hair back out of my face. "Aye. I can see that."

She smiled for the first time. "What your da is demanding from ya is total bollocks. Stand up to him. Do what is right."

"And what is that? I don't really know anymore."

She ducked her head to look up into my eyes. "Your heart knows. Just the same as mine does. We fight those bloody Lorcan to the death."

"It's not that simple. You don't tell a man like my father 'no' unless you're willing to pay a price."

I watched Taryn absently rub her finger along the scars on her arm. "I guess you know a little about that too, huh?"

She smirked. "I'm not known for keepin' my nose out of places it don't belong."

I sighed and lay back onto the grass. It felt good to have the soft tufts beneath my hands after so many months surrounded by stone and barren lands, pitted and cratered by harsh elements.

"We make quite the pair," I mused. When she shot me a hard glance, I laughed and raised my hands. "Truce?"

"That depends." She lowered her legs and then knelt beside me. "Will ya get me what I need?"

I leaned up on my elbows. "Will you tell me who it's for?"

"No."

Her refusal didn't surprise me. She was loyal. Of that much I could tell. "Very well. I will see that what you need is sent to your home if you can, at least, tell me the ailment."

Her smile waned and she looked away. "Lorcan poisoning."

I bolted upright. "There's been another attack? Why have I not been informed of it?"

"Because it didn't happen here."

It took me only a second to figure out that one of the Lorcan from the docks must have slipped by during the battle. "You went after the Lorcan that got away, didn't you? I knew the body count didn't match up!"

She didn't answer but lowered her eyes in confirmation.

"Were you hurt?"

"The bloke is worse than me." She shrugged.

I let out a breath in frustration. She was playing a dangerous game taking the Lorcan on herself. It had to come to an end. "Taryn, you need to tell me the truth."

The instant my commanding tone hit her, she shut down. Authority was something I was born to, used on a daily basis with my men, but I had to remind myself that she was sensitive to anything remotely close to taking orders. Especially from the likes of me.

"I'm sorry." I reached out and placed a hand over hers.

She yanked her hand back and I knew I'd messed up. I'd just become identical to my father in her eyes, giving orders and expecting obedience.

"I'm not very good at speaking with girls. I forget that you aren't one of my soldiers. I promise to help if you will show me some trust in exchange."

"Trust is earned." She eyed me.

I nodded. "Aye, and that takes time, I know that, but right now I'm your only hope. So it's your choice. Trust me or let your friend die."

She swallowed hard and grimaced. I knew I had her, but admired her stubbornness all the same.

Seeing little choice in the matter, she hesitantly began sharing snippets of her story. She told me of how she'd learned to fight with her cousin, about sneaking out to buy illegal leathers and a sword just so she could learn to fight for the people she loved. She told me about her suspicions and how hard she'd fought to try to get proof. She sounded just as defiant as I had been as a lad.

I was starting to see why my father would try to kill her. She knew far more of the truth than she realised.

Her story flowed easily from her lips once she began, rising and falling with mounting passion until she reached the night of her attack. Then she fell silent.

"Please, don't stop." I leaned forward. "I swear whatever you speak to me will go no farther than my ears."

I could have been baiting her for evidence that would later be used to condemn her, but I felt a trust forming between us as she spoke. Perhaps she suspected that my own bitterness towards my father might protect her from harm.

When she revealed her complex situation with the humans and the Lorcan, I felt my stomach twist into knots.

"You're telling me that not only can this Devlin man can see you, but that he saw you fighting a Lorcan?" I pushed up to my feet and began to pace. "And then, as if all of that wasn't terrible enough, you decided to bring his human friend through the veil and hide him in your best friend's home?"

"Well..." she hesitated. "When ya put it like that, it does sound a wee bit bad, but I had no other choice. He would have died."

"People die every day, Taryn. It's what they do. Do you realise that you've just given my father exactly what he'd need to banish you to Hollow Earth?"

My fists clenched at the thought of this strong girl cast into that pit of Hell.

When she pressed back her shoulders and lifted her chin, I knew I'd never seen a more noble heart before. She was a woman of such honour and faith that it made me hope that someday I could be a king worthy of her.

"Right or wrong, I did what I did to save him. He was an innocent. Our war, the one your father created, spilled over into his world. It wasn't his time to die."

I felt moved by her words but still a trickle of fear coursed through my veins. My father had to know by now that the boy was attacked. If he was intended to die, then he became a soul uncollected. That also meant my father allowed the Lorcan to attack him. But if the king didn't know, and the Lorcan attack was random, that meant Taryn was right.

Neither option was a good one. Our war had spilled over into the human realm and no one was doing anything about it.

And what about Taryn? Had the ball not already been in full swing, she might have been captured by my father and thrown into the dungeon based on suspicion of involvement. It was only a matter of time before he went for her again. Knowing him as I did, if he saw her as a threat, he would not back down.

"You have to return the human immediately. It's the only way to set this right."

"Return him?" She pushed up to her feet. "And let your da finish the job? No. He's not well enough to move yet, Aed."

She didn't even seem to realise that she had dropped the formality of my title when she rushed forward and took hold of my hand.

"If he returns to his realm before I've had time to get him to a healer, ya know he will die. I canna leave him to that fate."

"And if he remains here and is discovered I know what your fate will be. And that of your friend for taking him in."

Her lips thinned into a line. "So be it."

I took a step back. "You can't mean to risk your life for a human!"

"And why not? Is my life worth more than his? You of all people should understand this, Aed. What it is like to care about humans more than ourselves. At least your brother Alroy understood that—"

I yanked my hand back from her. "Never speak of my brother in this place if you wish to keep your tongue."

The command hit her like a physical blow. I felt instant remorse for reacting so strongly, but there were some wounds best left to the past. The loss of my brother was one of those.

"The human must go. End of story." I adjusted the sword at my side, needing to focus on something other than the guilt welling up inside. Damn her for affecting me like that. "I will see that the herbs are sent to your home but then he is gone. Is that understood?"

"Are ya ordering me then?"

I glanced back at her and frowned. "Let's just call it a friendly warning."

She rolled her eyes. "Noted."

"Taryn—"

"Look, I appreciate what you are willing to do for me. I just...I guess I was hoping for more." She held up her hand to stop me from saying anything. "Go back to your party. I'll find my own way out."

"That's a pity," I said and stepped closer, hoping not to leave under such tense words. "I had hoped to have that dance so I could smear it in my father's face. I do have a thing for uptight, highly opinionated, arrogant women, you know?"

"You forgot pig-headed." She smirked.

"Aye. And pig-headed." This moment in the garden would have to be enough...for now. "Follow the row of pansies behind you. They will guide you to a wooden door, hidden by a thick overgrowth of vines and to the exit beyond."

She nodded and I watched her walk away. She never looked back at me, never checked to see if I was watching. Taryn just left.

With a shake of my head, I turned my back on the most stubborn girl I had ever met and hauled myself up into the tree. Grasping a notch in the stone, I swung to the ledge and climbed back into the passageway above.

"Aed," a stern voice called from the shadows.

I looked up to see my father standing there.

"Father, I didn't hear you approach."

"I would think not. You seem lost in thought."

I cleared my throat and straightened my collar. It was only then that I realised I left my dress coat behind at the water's edge. His gaze was prodding, but I saw no hint of condemnation in his eyes.

Had he, by some miracle, not witnessed my meeting with Taryn?

"Your guests are anxious to see you." He looked beyond me at the hallway that led to my room. "I figured you'd find some lass to bring to your chambers before the night was out, but I hope you were not romping around in your mother's garden. You know that is forbidden."

"Of course, Father. I was alone."

His smirk told me he believed otherwise. "Your secrets are your own, son. However, it would be good for you to mingle. Tonight is important. One of these lovely ladies will someday be queen. Choose wisely."

"Please. You pretend to give me free will to choose, but you and I both know you will select the girl most profitable to your rule."

The king's jaw clenched. "Mind your tone, son."

"Or what? You'll have me flogged? That should go over well with our guests."

I started to walk past my father, but he grabbed onto my arm. "Remember your place, boy. I am the king."

"For now."

His grip tightened and I breathed through the pain. "I did not come to speak about your marriage. I have a task for you."

"Are you asking?" At my father's glare, I shook my head. "Of course you aren't."

"There is a matter of great importance to the crown. A threat to my reign and your future reign has come to my attention. It must be dealt with swiftly."

"And what might this great threat be?"

"Not what, but who. Taryn Brennan. Does the name sound familiar to you?"

Shite. I knew he'd be sniffing around, but she seriously underestimated how ticked my father was.

"No."

My father's eyebrow rose at my swift denial. "You will bring her to me."

"And how do you propose I do that? Everywhere I go I am flocked by girls, thanks to you. Besides, why would a common girl capture your attention?"

The king's smile turned ugly. "Do not pretend like you are unaware of the name. I saw how affected you were when she stood you up tonight. I also know that you spoke with her at the docks during that...unfortunate incident."

"Incident?" I shoved his hand off me. "You mean where rogue Lorcan massacred your people in broad daylight? That incident."

The vein along my father's forehead pulsed. "Bring her to me dead or alive. It does not matter."

"I do not kill our kind, Father. I kill Lorcan," I spat out. "We have laws and courts to decide people's fates when they are accused."

"You will do this." Spittle hit my cheek when my father growled at me.

With that, he turned and stormed off. I waited until he disappeared down the hallway before I blew out a breath.

"Damn you, Taryn. There will be no getting out of this now."

I had no choice. My father would see her dead, one way or another. Unless I could find another way, at least my blade would be swift.

# CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

## DEVLIN

I DIDN'T KNOW HOW long I searched the woods for any sign of them. Judging by the rumble of my stomach it had been hours. The sun was past the midpoint of the sky and Ma had called me no less than a fourteen times.

There was nothing to find and yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was on the right track. One thing was certain. I was ill-prepared for this hunt. The sun would be going down soon and I had nothing to protect me if that thing came back. The way my stomach was rumbling I knew I'd never succeed in a stealthy approach. I needed food, a weapon, and peace of mind that Seamus hadn't already returned home somehow.

"I'll be back," I said to the empty cemetery as though it were watching my moves. I wasn't convinced that it wasn't.

Ma was on me the second I walked in.

"Devlin Michael Gallagher. Where have you been? You tore out of the house this morning like a madman! Your da said you never made it to work! You're not answering your phone...This isn't like you. What's going on?"

I waved her off and opened the fridge, pulling out a cold bite of leftover roast. My stomach thundered at the tease of food. Ma swooped over and started to make me a plate, never stopping with her questions of my whereabouts.

"You'd better be answering me 'cause I'm not letting up until I know where the devil you've been all this time," she warned. She waved a wooden spoon at me in a menacing way. "I almost called Interpol to go looking for ya!"

"I'm trying to find Seamus," I said, ripping off a hunk of bread and shoving it in my mouth.

"Seamus? What's the matter with him?"

I shook my head. It wasn't like I could tell her the truth: some massive black beast tried to eat him and now I didn't know where he was. She'd lock me up for sure, right beside Ms. Daly.

"I think he may have a fight with his da. A big one. I went over this morn and his da said he'd been kicked out."

Ma sat down beside me at the table, her hand covering her mouth.

"Oh, that's horrible news. Well, have you looked—"

"I've looked everywhere, Ma. I don't know where he could be, but I have a bad feeling. A real bad feeling." My eyes glossed over a bit wondering if there was any truth to that statement. The last time I had seen him he was writhing in pain unlike anything I'd ever witnessed before. What if he was dead? What if they all were?

No. They weren't dead. I would know it. Somehow I would know it. They were missing. That was all. And I was going to find them.

Ma pushed out from the table and went over to the phone.

"Who are you calling?"

"We need to have a search party for him. The poor boy could be hurt somewhere and the temperature will drop in a few hours."

I stood up and hung up the phone for her.

"No. Let me try to find him first. He's not gonna be right in the head now. Besides, Interpol can't do anything till he's been missing for forty-eight hours, anyway. You know Seamus. He's likely gone off to be alone someplace. That's what he does when he gets upset. Remember when we were lads and he got cross at me?"

She smiled softly. "Aye. He always ended up on the back stoop. Like you would never think to find him there? But you always did, even if ya pretended to hunt for him for a while so he'd cool off."

I rubbed Ma's shoulders as she remembered simpler days. "Let me get my energy back, grab a torch and some extra batteries, and if I can't find him by morning, then we'll call for help. Okay?"

The look on her face conveyed that she was not at all happy about this plan. "At least let me look with ya," she pleaded.

"Ma, if I do find him, he's not gonna wanna face me, let alone my ma," I said, coming up with the lie on the spot. "I have to approach him in just the right way."

She glanced down at her gold watch Da had given to her on their twentieth anniversary. I knew she couldn't afford to take more time off. She'd taken off so much with Alana's illness and funeral. They had been kind to let her off as much as they did, but even Ma knew to ask for more now would be pushing it.

"Fine then. You have one day. If he's not back by the morning, I'm calling, you hear?"

"Aye. Agreed." I gave her a nod of understanding. I pulled her in for a hug, but she pushed out of it to tell me something.

"Devlin, when you find him, you bring him back here," she said. "We've got an extra room now. You tell him he'll always have a home here."

I knew how hard it must have been for her to offer up Alana's room. She hadn't been in it since her death, and if Seamus came to stay with us, she'd force herself to go in and change the linens. She'd be reminded of her daughter's passing yet again, but she offered it anyway. Even though we had been estranged for a time, Seamus was still family.

"You're amazing, Ma. And I love ya." I gave her a gentle squeeze and she laughed in my arms. It felt good to hear her laugh again.

After that, she filled my belly and a sack full of food, bottled waters, and a sweatshirt for Seamus, should I find him. I told her I was going to be looking around town for the most part. I didn't want her knowing that I'd be in the thick of the woods in the approaching nightfall. Some things were better left unsaid when it came to mothers.

When I got back to the cemetery, I wanted to begin again with a renewed sense of hope. Perhaps I had missed something because I was tired or hungry earlier. I had a full belly and a clear mind, yet I was still no closer to finding out what really happened after I hit my head.

Think, Devlin. He's not dead because I would have found his body, right?

That was when I noticed something on the ground that I had thought was dead leaves but now thanks to the shifting of the sun, I could see that it was actually blood.

"Seamus," I whispered. A flash of him screaming in pain crossed my mind. Was I too late? Had that thing killed him?

My feet walked painfully slow over to where the blood had begun to seep into ground around it. I knelt down and was about to touch it when I noticed the black ooze steaming slightly on the earth beside me. I bent my head lower to look at it more closely. The slimy substance was dark and thick. Almost like melted tar. It was burning through the ground it surrounded.

Whatever that stuff was, it was clear to me that it wasn't normal. In fact, it looked like the same stuff that had been all over Taryn when I discovered her at the hospital. I took a step back. Come to think of it, the ooze had the same colour of Seamus's arm after that thing attacked him.

That thing had come this way. It released some sort of toxin. Taryn would have known that. She'd lived through an attack from that thing and yet she went after it knowing full well what it could do.

Where had she come from? It was like she materialized out of thin air. Though she looked different, I knew exactly who she was.

Gone was the long silver dress she had worn the other times I'd seen her and in its place was the sexiest outfit I'd ever laid eyes on. Last night, she had on this skimpy leather halter top that made her breasts look as though they would fall out. It only came to her navel, showing off a trim and toned stomach. But it was the tiny leather skirt that nearly had me panting. Long, lean legs that stretched on for days. Even with the scars that covered her body, she was the epitome of desire.

I was just about to fall into a nice daydream when I heard a noise behind me. My muscles tensed as I balled my fists and spun around, ready for anything other than what I saw.

"Taryn?"

She stood in front of me wearing a delicate teal gown that, though down to her ankles, hugged every one of her lush curves. My mouth actually watered looking at her.

"Good Lord. That might be the sexiest dress I've ever laid eyes on."

Her face blushed as did mine when I realised I'd said that out loud.

"Sorry. That was highly inappropriate," I bumbled. "True, but inappropriate." I shook my head a few times to clear it. "Where have you been? Where's Seamus? What was that thing? What the bloody hell happened last night?"

She raised her hand to halt my barrage of questions. "I know you want answers, but I canna stay long." Her entire posture was on edge as her eyes scanned the horizon.

"How is he?"

"Seamus, is it?" Her cool blue eyes drifted back to me and her posture relaxed a fraction. "He's safe."

"Safe isn't good enough. I want to know what happened to him. I want to know where he is!"

She took a step forward and leered at me with her eyes, signaling me to keep my voice down. There was no one here. I didn't understand the concern.

"I canna tell you where he is. Just trust that he is being cared for. By morning, I'll have the medicines needed to help him." Her eyes scanned our surroundings again.

"What does that mean?" I asked, feeling exasperated. She wasn't giving me any useful information. "I want to see him. I need to see that he's okay for myself."

She shook her head. Her face had grown stern. "No. That is not possible. You're not allowed to go where he is. It's not safe for ya."

"Well, if it's not safe for me how is it safe for him?"

She held her hand out to stop me. "It's not, alright?"

I could see she was getting frustrated too.

"If he had been left here, he would have died. Of that I have no doubt." Her eyes stayed on mine to try and drive that point home. "The beast that attacked him, the Lorcan, its claws are deadly. It poisons flesh. If it gets into the bloodstream...if it finds its way to the heart, then there's nothing either of us could have done."

"We could have taken him to the hospital," I said, still not understanding where Seamus was at the moment or even where she had come from. I had searched these woods all day and there wasn't a trace of life anywhere. She wasn't making any sense.

Taryn shook her head. "He would have died for sure in your hospitals. They don't have the herbs needed to stop the spread of this kind of poison."

I cocked my head to the side. "But your hospitals do? Taryn. A hospital is a hospital, Taryn. They have the same medicines."

She made a face in apparent frustration. "We don't have hospitals where I'm from. We have healers. Wise men and women trained in the ancient art of healing and herbs. My friend, Tris, the girl who was with me, her ma was a healer. She knows how to help him. She is tending to Seamus' wounds until I can get him something stronger."

"Wait...does that mean he's still in danger?" From the expression on her face, I could tell things were not good.

"Tris has stopped the spread for now, but only time will tell," she confessed. "He's being cared at Tris' house. Illegally, I might add. If anyone knew I had brought a human into our realm..."

I looked up at her choice of words. This wasn't the first time she'd use it.

"A human...? As opposed to?"

"I've already said too much." Her face hardened. "Nothin' I say will make any sense. Ya just need to trust me. Can ya do that?"

"No. I'm sorry, but I bloody well can't. You've taken my mate to a stranger's house. You tell me he's been poisoned but no hospital can save him, and you're hinting to me that ya aren't even human and you expect me to just trust that?"

"She's not a stranger, she's my best mate and the best option yours has. I don't bloody care if you don't trust me or pick apart the words I use. I only came back to let you know Seamus is being cared for. I see now I shouldn't have bothered." There was a fire in her tone that had me backing off in an instant.

"Don't go. Please. I'm sorry," I said. "You have to understand how confusing all of this is to me."

She clenched her jaw a few times as though to release the pressure building inside.

"I canna tell you more about Seamus."

I decided to let the matter drop. For now.

"Fine. What about you, then?"

My question seemed to take her off guard.

"What about me?"

I took a step closer. "Were you hurt?" My hand encircled her wrist, turning her arm over ever so gently to look for newly blackened flesh.

She stiffened at the sudden shift in my proximity. I heard her intake of breath before she swallowed and pulled herself out of my grasp. "I'm fine."

My focus drifted to the blackened scars on her face. I could tell she felt embarrassed by them from the way she kept the left side of her face from me. She had no idea how stunning they made her look. They didn't detract from her beauty. Quite the opposite, they enhanced it. It was as though her face was meant to have those marks. I had a sudden urge to press my lips against the dark lines that lived by her eye. What might her skin feel like under my lips?

"I have to go," she said, pulling me back from my fantasy. "No one knows I've left and they will be quite cross if they find out I ditched the ball." She looked down at her gown. My eyes went with hers.

"There's a tear in your dress," I said, pointing to a rip that went right up her side. The tear ended at her upper thigh. For no good reason, I got defensive.

"Yes. I may have had a wee disagreement with our prince."

"A disagreement?" I asked carefully. "With a prince?" She was talking nonsense again. There were no princes in our area. Was she lying? Or worse? Was she losing her mind like Ms. Daly? Was I?

"Aye. My ma will not think kindly of that one if she finds out." She looked over her shoulder again like she was preparing to leave.

"Wait. You're trying to tell me that you had a fight with a prince? Like with swords and stuff?"

She shrugged. "It was really nothing more than a tussle."

"A tussle?"

She straightened her posture. "We had a difference of opinion."

An irrational wave of jealousy swept over me.

"Did he hurt you?" My tone was suddenly quite deadly.

"Quite the opposite." She smirked. "In case ya hadn't noticed, I can hold my own."

"That you can." There was so much more to this woman than she was letting on.

"Anyway," she said, her head dipping low as though to hide a blush. "I thought you were owed an update on your friend. Come morning, if all goes according to plan, he should be right as rain again. Tris will see to it. She seems quite taken with him. I wouldn't worry about a thing."

She turned to leave, but I took hold of her arm.

"No. You don't get to leave again."

Her eyes grew wide at the sudden challenge. "Excuse me? I'll leave whenever I want to," she said, but she didn't pull herself out of my grasp. Something I suspected she could have done easily.

I released my hold on her.

"I just mean....there's so much you haven't told me."

She let out a breath, seeming to waver about how much she should reveal.

"I deserve the truth, Taryn. I don't understand any of what's going on. I've seen what I can only describe as a monster. You've abducted my mate and won't tell me where he is and now tell me you're a having tussle with some prince, when you and I both know Ireland doesn't have a prince. You can't leave without giving me some explanation. To do that would be cruel, and I don't take ya for a cruel person."

The hard lines of her face softened.

Her gaze lowered. "You wouldn't believe me if I told ya."

I took a step forward and lifted her chin up with my hand. Her eyes locked onto mine. "Try me."

"What do you want to know?" she asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper. There was no denying we had a connection. I could feel her spirit connecting with my own in a way I had never experienced before. Still, there was something very different about the two of us. That gave me the first question I wanted to be answered.

I had a million questions, but one burned brighter than all the others.

"What are you?"

There was a shift in her features. Gone was the softness from before. In its place was the warrior. She turned away from me and faced the woods from where she had magically appeared.

"I'm not sure I take your meaning."

"Aye, you do. I have no way of proving it, Taryn, but you are not from Ireland. You look like me...flesh and bone, but are ya? I've seen things that don't make sense. Wounds that bleed black...beasts that tower over a full grown man, and a creature so stunning it couldn't possibly be of this earth."

At that she turned around to look me in the eye.

"To tell you what I am would be committing treason...I would be punished. Thrown in the dungeons, or worse."

"Dungeons? I don't understand. What dungeon?" This only confirmed my suspicions. I knew this part of Moneyglass well and there were no castles here, let alone any building that might hold a dungeon.

She threw her hands up into the air. "Oh, what does it matter? They could hang me for what I've done already."

"Hang you? Taryn, what's going on? Are you in trouble?" My protective instincts curled my hands into fists.

Her eyes flicked down at my hands for a moment then back at me.

"Okay. Here's the truth. Believe it or don't, but I'll only tell you this once, so listen well."

I nodded in understanding, ready to believe anything she told me. No matter how preposterous.

She took a breath. "I'm a banshee." She lifted her hands upwards as though that should explain it all. "Not the screaming, wailing, ghost thing you humans have concocted, but the real thing."

"A banshee?" I repeated, wanting really hard to believe her but at the same time knowing how insane that was.

She sighed and sat down on a fallen headstone. "I am a guide from this world to the next. My job is to help those who have passed over and guide them to the Isle of Glass, a place you lot tend to refer to as Heaven."

I took a seat beside her, watching her face as she spoke. It was clear she was telling the truth. Or at least the truth as she knew it.

"Where I live, there are monsters," she continued, "like the one you saw. Up until recently, however, they were caged by the walls of Hollow Earth. Our reapers could control them until we got our new king."

"And what's a reaper?" I asked, not wanting to interrupt her but also wanting to understand.

"They are specially trained warriors. It is only the reapers who are permitted to carry a dagger like this." She pushed the fabric of her dress up to reveal that icy blue blade tucked neatly inside a leather strap located high against her inner thigh. "Only this blade can pierce the hide of a Lorcan."

"How did you—"

"Get a hold of one?" she asked. "My cousin is a reaper. He knew the dangers. He trained me in secret."

She began to pace as I tried to process what she was saying. "Something is wrong. Terribly wrong. The Lorcan are breaching their walls. They're attacking banshees and reapers alike. And now they're going after the humans? This is unheard of. They seem to be getting stronger, too. Evolving somehow and our bloody king doesn't see anything out of the ordinary! He's doing nothing to stop these attacks. So I'm out here every day tryin' to hunt down and kill as many of these bastards as I can without gettin' myself eaten or hung by my king for trying to fight them off!"

She stopped her rant to catch her breath.

"And I thought I was having a bad day," I croaked.

She gave me a small smile. "Our world is in utter chaos, Devlin, and I seem to be the only one who can see it. I've been trying to talk with the prince because he fights these beasts every day along the wall of Hollow Earth. He knows they are changin', but we are buttin' heads on the best way to solve the problem."

I wanted to help her figure out how to fix it, but to be honest, I wasn't sure I could comprehend everything that was going on.

She closed her eyes and composed herself. "It's not your concern to worry over. Your friend is. If we can stop the poison, I'll get Seamus back to you. I canna give ya more hope than that. It's just too soon to know."

"To know if the poison will reach his heart?" I asked, recalling her earlier explanation.

"Aye. I think the herbs we're using will help, but until he regains his strength, we need to wait."

"I don't understand why I can't see Seamus. Is what he has contagious?"

"No. But if you're seen in my world, I would be hung for allowing you over. Would you like that?"

"Um. No. I definitely don't want that."

She nodded. "I didn't think so. Now that I've committed yet another crime by telling ya about my world, ya have to swear you won't be tellin' anyone."

"No one would believe me anyway."

"This is serious, Devlin. No one can know about my world. I don't even know how you can see me. This isn't supposed to happen. Our kind isn't supposed to mix." She brought her hands up to her temples and rubbed them gently. "We're tempting fate every time we are together. If anyone saw us..." The gentleness of her expression shifted back into her fierce one. "I can't keep putting our lives on the line. I just needed to let you know that Seamus is being tended to. If I can heal him, I'll return him to ya."

She turned to leave then.

"Wait! When will I see you again?" I hoped the need in my voice was evident. I wasn't ready for her to go. "I mean, when will I hear from you again? To get a report on Seamus."

"I'll come back when I have word on your friend." She looked over her shoulder again. "You should go. The woods are not safe. Keep inside as much as ya can. I'll find you if I have news. Don't try to search me. You'll fail." I didn't doubt her there. She turned towards the woods. "Oh, and, Devlin? If you see a Lorcan, don't try to fight it. Run."

Without another word, she disappeared back into the woods, all trace of her gone in the blink of an eye. With everything I had seen in the last few days, her being a banshee was the least crazy of the lot. While I had some answers, I was left with even more questions.

# CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

## TARYN

I HAD EXPECTED THE announcement of Prince Aed's decision on a new wife to come quickly after the ball, but the weekend passed with utter silence from the castle. No trumpets. No fanfare. It was almost as if the ball never took place. At first I feared that something had happened at the Wall and kept looking over my shoulder, waiting for an attack that never came.

An air of frustration settled over Eimear and carried on through the long work week and into the following. The people grew restless. My sisters were among them. Hour after agonizing hour of their idle prattle did my head in and I had to escape.

The reaming I got from Ma when I returned home late that night had lasted several hours. She didn't care about the state of my dress or even that my sisters had to walk home unchaperoned. She was appalled that I brought shame to them by standing up the crown prince. When Da gently mentioned that my actions gave an extra spotlight onto my sisters, where all eyes were on them, her anger slowly abated.

Her anger was far more preferable to her obsessive scheming.

I tried hiding out in my room, but I could hear Ma and my sisters arguing through the thin walls. Tris would have been the same way if she weren't caring for Seamus. True to his word, Aed had delivered on the herbs to save Seamus' life but up until now, I had failed to hold up my end of that bargain.

Seamus would return to the human realm when he was fully healed and not a moment before.

Slamming the front door closed behind me, I took to the streets in search of peace and quiet. I didn't have a destination in mind. Away was enough for me.

As I walked down the hill and headed towards the docks, I thought about Devlin. Our relationship was nothing if not complicated. And yet, I liked it. Maybe it was the fact that simply by being with him I was giving the finger to the royals. Or maybe he was starting to grow on me.

Revealing myself like I did when that Lorcan attacked wasn't exactly the way I'd planned on telling him the truth, but it was efficient. Stealing Seamus might not have earned a great deal of trust between us, but Devlin, at least, understood I did what I had to do.

The rest he could figure out in time.

I left the docks and their fishy odors to walk through the market in the town centre. People milled about, wandering aimlessly, much like myself. Some stopped on street corners, casting furtive glances up towards the castle walls. Others huddled together.

I wanted no part in the gossip. If it were daylight, I would have fled to the mountains for genuine solitude, but the night trapped me here.

The sound of laughter spilled from the open doors of the pubs. They were overcrowded tonight. At least the men had a place to hide out until all of this was over. Lucky bastards.

As the first stars appeared on the horizon, I walked up one street and down the next until my leg muscles burned. I kicked at the fallen décor littering the street. The party was over. The excitement had waned. Now all that remained was the dwindling hope that some lucky girl would be promoted to royalty someday.

A storm brewed on the horizon but had yet to bring any relief from the stifling heat. The balmy breeze ruffled my skirt. My boots rubbed painfully against my feet, but still, I walked. The alternative was unbearable.

Lamplight flickered overhead as I walked by my home for the third time. I wouldn't step foot inside until everyone had gone to their beds.

As I glanced up at the castle wall, my stomach clenched at the thought of my conversation with Aed. He was a mystery to me. His men and his duty at the wall obviously meant a great deal to him, but what about those here in Eimear?

Fighting with a sword was one thing, but he had the power to wield a far greater influence if he would only do it.

I bent down and ran my hand over a fallen royal banner. The emblem was finely woven.

"You could save your people," I whispered. "Ya just have to be willing to risk it all."

"I assume you're referring to me," a voice called from behind.

I hang my head but not before spotting him hiding in the shadows. "I should have known you'd show up where you're not wanted."

"And you still have a winning opinion of me, I see." He emerged but not before checking to make sure the street was clear.

"You've given me no reason to change it, have ya?" I countered and rose to my feet.

The dim light made it hard to see his distinct features, but I remembered every one of them. He was handsome, no doubt about that, but I felt a kinship to him as a warrior. Someone who was even more scarred than me.

"Then give me a chance to prove it to you."

There was a stark difference in his appearance tonight from that of the ball. Gone was the smoothed hair, fancy boots, and stuffy dress uniform. Tonight he had donned a warrior's vest: black boiled leather held together by beaded strands crisscrossing his bare chest. Multicoloured straps of leather were tied around his bicep. The only thing missing was the double blades at his back.

Even I had to admit it looked good on him.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I eyed him up and down. "I reckon it's not safe for you on the streets tonight."

His hand naturally dropped to his sword hilt but when I laughed, he let his hand fall. "You refer to the mob of girls hunting for me."

"What else could I mean? It's not as if there's a Lorcan threat or anything."

Aed snorted. "Aye. I see what you're doing. It won't work."

"Are ya sure about that?" I stepped near enough to smell his leathers. It was disconcerting how good they smelt to me. "All I need to do is yell and you'll be runnin' for your life back to your grand high walls."

"But you won't do that, will you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I challenged.

Aed smiled and leaned in. "Because you need me."

I balked and stepped back. "I need nothin' from the likes of you."

"Is that so?" He took hold of my hand and started to lead me deeper into the shadows.

"Let go of me!" I beat at his arm, but his grip remained tight. "I'll scream."

Aed jerked to a stop. "Are you always this stubborn?"

"Always."

He shook his head but didn't let go of my hand. "The things we need to discuss can't be done out here."

"What things?" Now he had my attention.

"Illegal things."

I stared down at my hand. "I'm not a wee child. I can walk on my own."

"Aye, but will you?"

The temptation to turn and run was strong. He was the last person I wanted to be caught hiding in the shadows with, but what if he had something to offer? What if he'd changed his mind?

Pressing back my shoulders, I nodded. "I'll follow ya, but only if ya promise it will be worth my time."

Aed released his grip on my hand. When I rubbed my wrist, I saw a flicker of regret in his eye. "It is worth your time if you want to live."

Standing in front of me, he felt like an unmovable mountain of muscle. The top of my head came only to his chin, so I had to crane my head back to look him in the eye. Not even Eivin was that impressive. It hurt to think of how great this man could be if only he allowed himself the chance.

"Aye. I reckon that I do."

"Good." He held out his hand. "Then follow me."

Aed drew nearer to my side as we stepped onto a small path made of crushed stone. My arm brushed against his as the walls on either side narrowed. At the far end, I ducked to slip beneath a low hanging ivy plant and came to an abrupt halt at a towering stone wall.

He pulled the ivy back to reveal a hidden iron gate. "You're not the only one who likes to explore forbidden places."

Reaching into the pocket of his leather vest, he removed a small golden skeleton key. Its surface was tarnished and the serial numbers stamped on it faded over time. He slipped it into the lock and turned it over. "After you."

It was impossible not to notice how solid his chest felt in the narrow space as I began to shimmy forward. Aed chuckled as I sucked in a breath to try to pass without touching him and failed.

"I don't bite," he whispered.

"Sure ya don't."

Once I passed him, I found myself staring into total darkness. I had never known this tunnel existed. Until tonight I thought I'd already discovered all of Eimear's secrets.

I heard the strike of flint and stone before light flickered to life. Aed stood behind me holding a torch. The light revealed that our exit was already sealed. A wooden door appeared down the passageway.

"Follow me." He pushed past me and removed a second key.

"Where does that lead?"

"To my world."

A cool breeze brushed my hair back from my forehead when the door swung open. As I followed Aed down a steady decline, I had to admit I was eager to see where the tunnel led.

"Are we under the castle?" My voice echoed in the dark tunnel.

"Aye. As a boy, I would come here when I didn't want to be found." He turned to smile at me. "My mother would send soldiers to look for me, but they never found me. This was my sanctuary when I needed to escape from my life."

"Escape from your life?" I snorted. "You make it sound like being a prince is hard."

"My father is not a kind man, as you've discovered."

I fell silent. I had never stopped to consider what living with the king might be like. For the first time, I found myself amazed that Aed had turned out as well as he did. At least I had my da and Eivin.

A cool damp clung to the stone walls as we turned another bend.

"My mother has an extensive network of spies at her command. It infuriated her that a young boy could best them."

I laughed. "And here ya were calling me stubborn."

The sound of his laughter echoed around me as a rush of air suddenly rose up to meet me.

"Careful." Aed reached out to grasp my arm, pulling me back before I tumbled over the edge and down into darkness. "That's a nasty fall."

"Now ya tell me." I shifted to allow him room to pass. Aed held the torch high to light our path. The edge of the trail had crumbled over time, leaving large gaps for us to jump over. After a few minutes, I began to hear dripping. A great gushing of water soon followed it.

"Where are we?" I had to shout to be heard over the roar.

"Have you never wondered where the Durrow River ends?"

To be honest, I never really cared. The murky waters travelled straight from the mortal realm, past the ferryman, and into the heart of town. As it neared the town centre, it turned into hardly more than a glorified sewer canal that vanished beneath the circular cistern.

As Aed lifted the torch, I was stunned to see a deluge of water spilling from a crevice nearly fifty feet over my head and pouring into a dark pool below. The waterfall was powerful and captivating.

"It's beautiful."

Aed laughed and turned to face me. "You are quite fond of that word."

"Only when it's the truth." I stepped to the side and craned my head back to stare at the waterfall. I could feel its might trembling in the earth beneath my feet. "I canna believe no one knows this is here."

"We do," he said into my ear.

I flinched. His gaze was intense as he searched my face. He was suddenly far too close, so I moved away to put distance between us.

"I can see why you like it here."

The light wavered behind me and I turned to see Aed propping himself against a rock. "It's peaceful compared to life in the castle."

I frowned. "Has your whole life been awful?"

He patted a rock beside him and waited for me to settle. When I came to rest, my leg was dangerously close to his hand, but he appeared not to notice.

"I enjoyed my life once before my father took the throne. We lived in the Riverlands. There were hills to explore and countless animals to hunt."

Somehow I couldn't see him as a country boy.

"When my father arranged his coupe, my mother knew of it, but I did not. I was stolen from the only home I'd ever known and thrust into a life of guards, servants, and rules. My every movement was watched. My words were monitored. From the age of twelve, I had someone tasting my food for poison."

I chewed on my lower lip. I didn't like that he was opening up to me. It was easier to despise him when I didn't know him.

"My mother was not always like this," he continued. "She was kind. I remember her laugh and the way her eyes would light up when I walked into a room."

A pained smile darkened his eyes as he stared down at the stone floor, damp with a spray from the waterfall.

"I heard theirs was an arranged marriage."

He rubbed his hands on his leather pant leg. "My mother doesn't love the king. He loves only himself and power."

"And you?"

"I was groomed to make my father look good, but I was unimportant. I was the second son. My brother, Alroy, was far more regal than I ever was. The weight of being the heir fell heavily on his shoulders while I was free." Aed looked over at me. "I often wonder if that is what drove him to the human world for refuge."

"I heard he was killed there."

"Aye."

The pain in his voice created an image of what Aed must have been like when he heard of his brother's death. He had been young and stupid. If I had to guess, I would say he rebelled hard against his new duties as rightful heir after he lost his brother.

"You have to understand I was troubled after Alroy's death. I threw myself into my battle training as a way to release my rage. Someone took my brother from me and I was hell-bent on making them pay. It was all that mattered to me after that."

As I looked at his clenched fists, I understood that anger. It was soul-changing, something that could poison a soul from the inside out.

"And the women?" I challenged. I trusted him with my deepest secrets back in the garden. It was time for him to show a bit of trust too.

A muscle in his jaw flinched. "I won't apologize for that. I did what I did."

I was surprised to hear the regret in his tone, despite his words. "You needed to feel something."

He looked over at me. "Aye."

I couldn't blame him for that.

"Alroy never wanted the throne," Aed said. "He was a strong man, but his impulsive nature couldn't be stifled by the stern hand of my father. Even then, the king expected the utmost from his son."

I was seeing the prince as I had never truly seen him before. He was allowing himself to be completely vulnerable. It didn't seem like something he would do often.

"Alroy was never allowed to play, not when he had a kingdom to learn to rule. He learned from a young age that he'd never be allowed to marry for love, so when he found it in the human realm, he wasn't going to let that go."

I sat up straighter. "He was in love with a human? That means they could see each other!"

"You are not the first to come in contact with a human, Taryn. There have been others. My own mother..." He shook his head, stopping in his tracks.

I wanted to beg him to continue, to tell me more, but I could see this was a hard thing for him to talk about. It felt wrong to press him.

"Nothing good comes from humans and banshees mixing. Trust me. You'll only find heartache."

The pain in his voice was raw, edged with years of bitterness.

"My father flew into a rage. The whole castle knew of it and were paid handsomely for their silence."

"So that's why Alroy was in the human world when he was killed. He was with her," I muttered and wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the chill. "And when he was gone that left you to take his spot."

"I had no choice. I was the new heir to the whole of Netherworld." He took a deep breath and held it before releasing it slowly. Then he lowered the torch and shoved it into a crack in the stone.

"After Alroy passed, my mother lost herself to grief. It contorted her mind and she became something cold and distant. Grief does vile things to a person. My parents blamed each other."

"Why?" I asked, curious as to what had created so much rage between the royals.

Aed paused as though unsure he wanted to reveal this truth. "My mother had aided Alroy in his quest for love."

"She approved a match with a human?" I gasped. Such a thing was strictly forbidden. We were even penalized if we lingered longer than our jobs allowed. It made no sense that the queen would advocate an act with her own son that would be considered treason.

He nodded in agreement with me. "She used to be a hopeless romantic once upon a time. My father was outraged at her betrayal. So they became the cold, distant couple you saw at the ball."

Ideas began to tumble through my mind. These new pieces to the puzzle were starting to add up.

"Did they ever figure out what happened to him?" I knew I was pressing a boundary probably best left untouched, but I couldn't walk away from this without learning something.

"He was protecting Ella. That was all I was told."

His gaze hardened as he hunched his shoulders forward. "I was forbidden to see his body. Guards were posted outside my chambers as Alroy was prepared for burial. My mother was beside herself, raging at my father long into the night. She accused him of allowing his death to happen, that his need for power drove him to murder. My father had to have known his own son's death was coming. It was his job to know, but he was grooming Alroy instead of me. That made no sense to me at the time."

"What if the king wasn't behind Alroy's death?"

Aed raised his head to stare at me.

"You know I'm not a fan of your da's, but what if he really was innocent?"

"I'm not following you."

I moved closer to him, feeling a sense of anticipation bubbling up inside. "I'm sure you've guessed by now that I like to dig up dirt on your da. I've followed as many leads as I can. There aren't many, I'll grant ya that, but what I have heard makes me think that your brother's death blindsided him. I don't think your da is as in control of death as he claims to be."

He sucked in a breath. "If my father didn't do it...you think the Lorcan did?"

"I do."

"But not as an accident?" he asked, sensing where I was going.

I shook my head as I considered my words. "My cousin Eivin spoke once of a balance between our two worlds." I turned to face him fully. "What if the Lorcan were the result of this unbalance?"

He sat up straighter. "My mother once told me there was a time before the Lorcan. When there was peace."

"You see," I said, excited. "I must be right. Something happened to shift this balance. What if the Lorcan went rogue and started hunting? They could have been going for Ella and Alroy tried to fight them off to protect her."

Aed frowned. "There were no reports of Lorcan activity that day."

"Of course not, ya bleeding idiot. What do ya think a cover-up is?"

His eyes widened at my blatant insult, but I didn't slow down.

"Your da has lost control and he canna let the people know about it. So he does what he does best. He places the blame elsewhere."

"That was nearly five years ago. There would be no way of getting proof of any of this."

Even as he said it, I could see him thinking it over. Perhaps that was my angle. My way to convince Aed to take that next step.

"What about your ma? She had to know something. Five years ago is when the Lorcan began uprising because your da stopped killing them. It wasn't long after that you became a babysitter on that blasted wall. Do ya really think that is a coincidence?"

Aed's jaw flinched. "I had orders. Them living or dying was not my call to make until they started attacking the Wall. That was different."

"The hell it wasn't!" I leapt down from the rock and turned to glare at him. "Wake up, Aed. You are the Netherworld's future king. Don't tell me your word holds no weight around here."

"It's not that simple—"

"It is if ya make it simple."

He nodded, but the resignation in his eyes disturbed me.

"You loved your brother, that much is clear," I said. "But you gave up looking for the truth. Deep down, I think ya were afraid of findin' it."

"And what if it was my father who enabled a Lorcan attack?" he snapped. "I can't touch him. He is the king. That means I can't get my revenge."

"I know." I held up my hands in a sign of a truce as I moved closer to him. "But you are the future king. Ya need to start acting like it."

"You know nothing of the way my world works." He looked away.

"Aye. Maybe I don't know everything, but I know enough." I turned and held out my hand to the waterfall. "You come here to escape for a reason. Ya jump each time your da commands it. That's not what a leader does. It's what a slave does."

He turned back to glare at me. "I would choose your next words with care."

"You see?" I laughed. "Who taught ya to threaten people like that? Not the wee boy who loved the Riverlands, that's for sure. You are your father's son, Aed. But ya don't have to be."

When he met my gaze full on, my breath caught. There was a depth of pain buried in his silver eyes. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Speak with such raw passion with no consideration for your neck."

"Because I speak my mind," I said. "We need a leader, Aed, and I want to believe in you. That you can do better than your da."

Aed blinked. "All you have done is insult me, belittle me, and hold an extremely low opinion of me."

"Aye." I grinned. "Imagine what I'd be like if I didn't want to believe in ya."

For a moment, Aed stared at me. Then slowly the tension broke with a deep rumble of laughter. "I can see why my father fears you. You're a force to be reckoned with."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I wouldn't." He suddenly grew serious. His whole body tensed and he looked away towards the falls. "You should know that he has commanded me to kill you."

"Of course he did."

He jerked back. "You knew?"

I leaned against the rock. "When it went quiet about talks of my potential banishment I figured things might shift in a less public direction. That's why Eivin and my da were so adamant about me lying low. My da hoped the fight at the docks would help me, but I knew better. Your da isn't the sort to forgive and forget."

"How can you be so flippant about that?"

If this had been a new idea to me, I would have probably freaked out like he expected. However, Eivin and I knew the risks long before we took them. Banishment was for the courts to decide, but to bring me in front of them allowed me the chance to speak in my defense and reveal my conspiracy theories. I was long past the point where the king would allow me a chance to tarnish his reputation.

"It's a logical move," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "Death is the only way to remove the thorn in his side."

"And you care not?"

"Of course I do! I canna stand here and say that I want to die. That would be daft, but I believe in my path, just as I want to believe in you."

Aed shook his head. "If I deny my father's order and keep you alive, it will be my head on the chopping block instead. And then he will just send another man to hunt you down."

"Have ya ever stopped to wonder why he wanted you to be the one to kill me?" I sighed. "You da does nothin' without a purpose. He chose ya for a reason, Aed. Only you can know what that is."

He fell silent, rubbing his hands together as he contemplated my words. "He wants me to submit. To prove I won't stand against him."

"Then I guess you'll have to decide what I'm worth to ya. An ally or a bargaining chip. I canna be both."

We stared at the torrent of water for several moments, each lost in thought. I could feel the heat of his body as he shifted, adjusting his position on the rock.

"You could be more."

I glanced back at him. "Come again?"

Aed slid down from the rock. "I didn't bring you down here to kill you. I brought you here to show you who I am."

"Why?" I shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly very uncomfortable with how he was looking at me.

"You and I are alike in many ways, Taryn." He moved closer to me. "We could be good together."

I blinked rapidly, struggling to comprehend what he was saying. He reached out and brushed the hair back from my face. The gentle act was so startling I didn't pull away when he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck.

"What are ya doin—"

The words were cut off when he crushed his lips against mine. My eyes flew open wide and I went rigid.

"Taryn?" He pulled back.

When I kneed him in the groin, Aed groaned and hobbled back. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"For kissing me without askin' permission."

"Would it have made any difference?" He cupped himself and slowly lowered to the ground.

"Maybe." Before I could think on the matter further, I turned and ran.

He called out to me several times, but I didn't look back. I had to get out of there. To sort out my thoughts. I needed space to think.

# CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

## DEVLIN

AS I WALKED BACK from the cemetery, I knew I was going to have to come up with a lie to tell my folks about Seamus. Something they would believe and also something they wouldn't go mental over.

"Did you find him?" Ma asked the second I made it home.

"I did," I said, opening the icebox and grabbing the milk. "He called me. Finally. He's staying with a friend near Dundrum Bay." I focused on pouring milk into a glass so I wouldn't have to look Ma in the eye. I wasn't very good at lying and she always seemed to know whenever I did.

"Dundrum Bay?" she whispered. "Why is he way out there?"

Sitting down at the table, I shrugged my shoulders. "I got the sense he wanted to be as far away from his da as he could, to be honest. This was a pretty epic fight from what I can gather. His mobile had died, so that's why he wasn't returning my calls. Said he's going to stay there for a few days to blow off some steam, but he knows he has a bed waiting for him when he returns."

"Oh, thank heavens," Ma said, crossing herself. "I couldn't have born it if something had happened to him, too."

I nodded in agreement, hoping nothing would change in the status of his health. My mind was still reeling from the information Taryn told me about Seamus. I had no idea where he was or if he was even alive, but I saw little I could do about the matter. All I could do was hope to hear news from Taryn soon.

"Maybe now things can get back to normal?" Da asked, walking into the room. He'd obviously overheard our conversation.

"Speaking of normal," Ma said, glancing at Da then back at me. "The Belfast Gallery called...wanting to know when they'll be expecting their shipment."

Their commission had been among the many I had destroyed during my rage.

"What did you tell them?"

"Well, I did tell them you'd had a death in the family, so that should buy you a wee bit more time."

I nodded. "Right. Guess I'll be starting that order in the morning then."

Ma smiled bigger than I had seen her smile in months.

"Will you come out to dinner with us tomorrow night?" Ma asked. The O'Sheas are celebrating their twentieth. I know they'd love to see you."

"Can't. I've got a lot of sculpting to do," I said, grateful for the excuse to avoid seeing the nosey O'Shea family.

Although I was in no state of mind to sculpt, losing that order would be a huge financial blow, and I couldn't do that to my parents. There were bills that needed paying and like it or not, my art helped cover those. I was honour-bound to make good on my word.

Kicking the studio door open with my foot the next morning, after a fitful night's rest, I sighed.

"Won't this be fun then?" I asked the worktable.

I grabbed a brick of clay I'd stored in the shed and set it down onto my station with a loud thud.

Pulling the carving tools I'd need for the first of three Virgin Marys, I sank down onto my stool. They would need to be sculpted and prepped for firing first since they had to ship out the soonest. It wouldn't be my best work, but they should still pass for the price they paid. I didn't charge nearly enough for my work, so the dealers told me, but I didn't want to get rich from this. I only wanted to make enough to keep sculpting. Seemed to me that people who swam neck deep in money lived in the shallow end of humanity, and I wanted no part of that.

It may only be February but the heat going from the kiln made the small studio hotter than Hades. Already my shirt was sopping up sweat. Annoyed, I yanked the shirt over my head with one hand and wiped the moisture off my face. I chucked it across the room, not caring in the least where it ended up so long as it stayed out of my clay.

My fingers began the familiar work of creating the basic shape of the Virgin Mary. She always started out looking more like a torpedo than the mother of Christ, which I couldn't help but chuckle at. I sliced a thin layer off the clay and formed the base that would hold her upright. The flow of her gown around her feet created the stability for the entire piece.

Pausing, I ran a thumb along the base where her gown would be. My mind flashed to Taryn's gown. Her ripped gown. A wave of jealousy tore through me. I forced my hands to unclench themselves.

"Calm down, mate," I whispered. I rolled my shoulders to ease the tension and picked up my carving wire to shave off the larger chunks around her neck.

That was when I felt a shift in the air. A definite presence. There was someone in the studio with me. Taryn's warning came back to me. If you see a Lorcan, run.

I tightened my grasp on the carving tool, knowing it would be of no use, but I spun around with it anyway.

"It's me, ya daft fool," Taryn said, taking a small step back at my sudden lunge. Her expression quickly changed to bemusement as she cocked her head to the side, glancing over at my worktable.

"Taryn! Bloody hell. You scared me." I put the knife down and caught my breath. She was smirking at me in a knowing sort of way. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to admire the view." Her eyes flicked down to my chest so fast that I wasn't sure I actually saw her do it, but it was enough to remind me I was still without a shirt.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry. I didn't know you'd be coming. I would have—"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You would have what?"

"I would have kept my shirt on for one thing."

She continued to smirk at me. "I have seen lads without their shirts on, ya know?"

I wasn't sure why that comment upset me so. It was irrational for me be jealous of her seeing other blokes half-naked, and yet, I was. Shaking the thought away, I found my shirt and tugged it over my head.

"Any news on Seamus?" I asked. That should have been the first thing I asked when I saw her, but, I swear, that woman made me forget all logic.

Her smile faded as I broke the lightness of our meeting. "He's improving. Tris is takin' good care of him."

"Tris was your friend who was there the night of the attack, yes?"

She nodded, then shook her head. "I think she enjoys washin' Seamus' wounds a wee bit more than she should."

"Oh?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't get a good look at her. Is she pretty?"

Taryn chuckled. "She likes to think she is."

"Well then, I'm sure Seamus doesn't mind the attention."

Taryn walked farther into the studio, looking around as she did. "Too bad nothin' will come of it. Him being a human and all makes that love connection impossible."

"And why is that?" I asked, as though this were the most normal conversation in the world.

She shrugged. "It's forbidden and she's all about the rules."

"How so?"

She sighed. "You don't disobey the royal decrees if ya want to stay out of the dungeons."

Something was weighing heavy on her mind, but I could tell she wasn't ready to talk about it, so I tried changing the subject instead.

"Have you ever worked with clay before?" I asked her, walking back to my stool. I pulled a second one out and offered it to her.

"No. We don't have time for this sort of thing back home. My city is where people bring their products to market. They are already crafted."

"Well, today's your lucky day," I said, picking up my wire cutter. I handed her a Mary sized hunk.

She picked it up tentatively, one eyebrow raised.

"Start by rolling the clay out a bit, like this." I took the piece I'd started earlier and began rolling it along the table like a rolling pin.

Reluctantly, she took the offered stool beside me and followed my lead until her blob looked similar to mine.

"Good. Now you're gonna stand it up like this."

She tried to get her statue to stand, but it kept falling down. Her frustration was showing, so I got up and stood behind her. My hands rested on top of hers as I helped her hands shape the clay. I heard her intake of breath at our close proximity, but I didn't move away. I couldn't. I was intoxicated by her.

"Now, we'll start to add some clay around the bottom here to act as the base." I manipulated her hand like a marionette to break apart a few small hunks of clay and added them to form the base. Her skin was cool against mine, but the energy that was passing between us was undeniable. She swallowed once and I realised I might be pushing my luck, so I peeled myself back off her.

"It's looking good," I lied, going back to my stool.

She grumbled. "What are we even makin'?"

"Well, the Virgin Mary, of course."

She made a face. "Why?"

I scratched the back of my head with a smoothing knife then shrugged. "These are for an art display at a museum. I do a lot of these, actually. Hospitals order them for their terminal patients. People seem to feel comforted having her watch over families who are dying." I thought back to the one we had in Alana's window. Fat good it did us.

Taryn pushed away from the stool and walked to the window. "I canna understand why people care so much about death."

"No one wants to die."

Taryn glanced back at me. "Immortality is worse."

I spun out of my stool and walked around the table, wiping my hands on my jeans as I did. "Worse? How so? There would be no death. That's not such a bad thing, is it?"

The corners of her teal eyes pinched together in a knowing way. "If no one died, no one could live. Where would ya put everyone or feed them? You humans suck dry all of your resources. People need to die so humanity can go on."

"So death is basically crowd control?" I asked, smiling.

"Exactly."

I hopped up onto the table.

"That's actually a really interesting perspective. Most people think of death as the enemy, but perhaps it's actually our savior?"

Taryn smiled at me and my heart swelled. "Aye. It is."

"Hey, can I ask one question?"

She looked up at me, curious.

"You have only one question about a parallel universe you didn't know existed until recently?"

I laughed. "Good point. How about one question for now?"

Her nod indicated her consent to ask.

"Do you know the banshee who took my sister?"

She stared at me for a moment, the expression on her face unreadable.

"Why would you want to know that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I wanted to know if she was okay." I looked down at my feet. "If she was scared at all, you know? That sort of thing. I don't know. I guess that's a silly thing to think about, huh?"

"Not at all. It sounds like a brother caring about his sister," she assured me.

"I guess it doesn't really matter," I said, realising she likely didn't know every banshee there was. People died all the time. There had to be millions of them, but now wasn't the time to ask about her life. She was getting antsy. Afraid we'd be seen. I knew our time was short, so I wanted to use it well. "You know, I actually have sculpted a banshee before—well, a version of one anyway."

"Really?"

"Um, yeah. Last year a local museum commissioned me to sculpt one for them to use as a tourist trap. Legends run pretty wild there about them."

Taryn's head cocked to the side, seemingly intrigued.

"Here, let me show you." I walked over to where Taryn was and reached just over her head to a small shelf that held my portfolio. My lips were dangerously close to hers as I reached behind her to get the book. She could have moved out of my way, but she held firmly, watching my movements carefully with her eyes. The sound of her quickening breath mirrored my own, and for the briefest of seconds I wondered what she would do if I leaned in to kiss her. Probably clock me over the head for being a presumptuous arsehole. Clenching my teeth together, I willed myself to grab the book and take a step away from her.

After a moment of awkward silence, I opened up the binder.

The first picture was of my sculpture of Venus. Mythical creatures had always fascinated me. Seamus thought I sculpted that one just because she was naked. I couldn't begin to tell you the number of gropes that poor thing got from Seamus before it was finally sold.

Taryn took the book from me and walked back to the table, her eyes glued to the pages. Slowly she made her way through my versions of Ankou, Esus and Dis Pater, the God of the Underworld himself. Most people fawned over this one, but Taryn skimmed right over it. She turned the next page and actually gasped.

"That's her. My beautiful banshee." I looked up at Taryn and found her eyes locked onto mine instead of the book. For what felt like forever, we just stared at each other, until she eventually lowered her gaze to look down at the photograph of the sculpture again.

"Huh," I said, looking over her shoulder. "She kind of looks like you."

While not an exact replica of Taryn, she and the sculpture did bear a striking resemblance. They both were strong and lean with long, flowing hair.

"The lips are a damn near match," I said, looking up at her full ones to compare.

Her eyes narrowed a bit.

"Aye. And the human looks like you."

I looked back at the man. I hadn't imaged him after myself. I chose what I thought to be a generic male figure. The fact that Taryn had considered me buff like the sculpture was flattering.

"So, what is she doing to him?" Taryn asked, lowering her face to the photograph.

"Um...she's about to suck out his soul." The fact that I had to explain it clearly indicated I hadn't done a very good job depicting her work in the sculpture. I tried not to let my wounded pride show.

"This doesn't look like a kiss of death, though." She looked up at me, confused. "It looks more like a kiss of passion."

I laughed out loud at her bluntness. "That's what the curator thought too at first, but I told him this piece showed just how deadly a banshee's kiss could be. How hypnotic and alluring. So tempting and deceptive. She was so cunning and beautiful that you wouldn't even know you were giving your last breath to her. Or worse, you wouldn't care even if ya did."

Her mouth opened in the most delicious way. I had caught her at a loss for words and it thrilled me more than it probably should have.

She closed the book with a loud snap.

"Banshees don't perform the kiss. Lorcan do." Her warrior nature was back. "You humans got it wrong. Again. We're not the bad guys, ya know?"

We were still standing close together. I could see her chest rising and falling, as though she were ready to defend her kind to me.

"I do know. Your job is to help them to Heaven. It must be an easy job for ya."

A look of indignation spread across her face.

"Easy, is it?"

I shrugged. "I mean, who wouldn't want to follow you to the ends of the earth?"

She smirked. "Very smooth."

I laughed as she moved back over to the window.

As she gazed outside her playful smile from a moment earlier retreated. Her eyes grew distant as she gazed out at the horizon. It was clear from the way she held herself there was something weighing on her mind.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Her shoulders squared.

"Taryn, what aren't you telling me?"

"What makes you think I'm holding something back?" she said, sounding defensive.

"From the moment I first met you, I could see you carried the weight of the world on your shoulders. I had assumed it was something bad at home with your ma or da, but I can tell it's something far worse. Worse than you not being from here..."

I walked over and reached out a hand to place on her shoulder. She dodged the touch before I could make contact and walked towards the door.

"I'm not keen on the way you read me so well. Not many can." She looked up at me with a curious look on her face. "You're sure you're a human?"

"Born and bred, I'm afraid."

"Well, we canna all be perfect." The tone in her voice was meant to distract me from digging any deeper, but I wasn't going to let this slide. Not when I knew the truth about who she was. There were real dangers that lurked in her world and if she was in harm's way, I needed to know.

"You're dodging my question."

She let out a quick breath before replying. "It's nothing for ya to worry about."

"Does it concern you?"

"Aye."

I nodded once and took a step closer to her. "Then it concerns me, too."

Her eyes widened at the possessiveness in my tone, so I tried to get that in check.

"You're my only link to Seamus, after all. If something happens to you..."

That did it. She relaxed again. "If something should ever happen to me, Tris will see he makes it back."

"Why would anything happen to you, Taryn?"

She shifted her gaze away. "The threat to my people continues to grow. I canna keep fighting them on my own forever. I need to form a strong alliance."

While I agreed that I didn't want her fighting those things at all, there was something about how she phrased that last sentence that put me on edge. "And just who do you need to get into bed with then?"

Her head whipped up at my poor choice of words.

"In the non-sexual way, that is."

A small frown graced her lush pink lips. "The king wants me dead, but the prince knows of the threat the Lorcan pose, so I went to him for aid."

"I see," I said, hearing the jealousy that had no right to be there seep in again.

"He's the only one with the pull to make changes. His men are loyal to him. They will fight if he commands it. They will defy their king for Aed. He of all people would be sympathetic to my cause."

I took another step towards her. "And was he?"

"He was. He's not too keen on his da either. Turns out we have that in common."

"Sounds like a win, win," I said, hesitating. "What's the catch?"

She took a deliberate step away from me.

"He kissed me."

"What?" It was irrational for me to be so upset by this idea. I held zero claim over her, and yet the idea of another man's lips on her sent me into a rage.

"It was nothing really. A quick kiss and then it was over."

I ground my teeth together before I asked a question I wasn't sure I wanted the answer to.

"Did you like it?"

Her expression hardened.

"It lasted all of two seconds. There wasn't really time to enjoy anything."

I closed the distance between us. "Do you want to kiss him again?"

"I—" she cut herself off. Her face clouded with confusion, which made we believe there might still be reason to hope. My chances were slim, especially against a prince, but I couldn't help wonder if there could be something between us if only she gave us a shot.

# CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

## TARYN

I DIDN'T WANT THINGS to get personal with Devlin. Hell, I was barely keeping my own life together right now, but the way he looked at me when I mentioned Aed's kiss told me everything I needed to know. He wanted more.

Hadn't I just got done explaining why that wasn't possible? Humans and banshees were forbidden! We'd be tried and hung for sure!

Not to mention he'd already been attacked by one Lorcan and nearly died. My world was not a place he wanted to be any part of.

And yet, Devlin stood there, staring at me. I knew he expected an answer, but I didn't have one to give him. This was all so confusing. I hadn't planned on any of this happening.

Just then, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end at the shuffle of a footstep. My muscles locked down as I realised we were no longer alone. My hand flew to my blade. Someone had followed me. From the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar figure lurking in the darkness and released my hold on the blade.

Damn him! Aed had followed me. Right to Devlin. That cocky bastard had no right to do that.

"Taryn?" Devlin waved his hand in front of my face. "What's wrong?" Clearly he hadn't heard Aed's approach.

"I'm perfect." I smiled. If Aed wanted to spy on me, I'd give him something to watch. It was only fair that I get the chance to compare the two men. He stole a kiss from me, so I was going to steal one of my own.

I sauntered towards Devlin. "Maybe you are right. I should be thinkin' of what I want in life. To hell with duty. Maybe it's time I do somethin' for me."

Devlin's eyes widened when I placed my hands on his shoulders and pulled him close. I breathed him in, noting how different he was from Aed. He was tall and strong but smelt of the earth and fire instead of leather and death. The muscles beneath my touch flinched as I rose onto my toes.

"Taryn...are you sure?"

"This is what I want," I whispered and crushed my lips against his with an urgency I didn't know I possessed. My fingers moved of their own accord into the deep mane of his red hair. They clasped against the roots, pulling his face closer to mine.

He tasted of mint and when his lips parted my tongue found easy access inside. His arms circled around me. I pressed my body tight against him. I needed to be closer to him. His warmth radiated out to me as I allowed myself to sink into his kiss.

Holy hell, I struggled to catch my breath and plunged right back in, clinging to him as he pressed me back against his workbench. His fingers dug into my hips, bringing our bodies closer.

My heart thrummed like mad in my ears as my senses lit up. Every touch from him felt magnetized. This felt too good to be forbidden. Were all kisses like this? Would it have been like this with Aed if I'd given him the chance? As soon as my thoughts turned to Aed, he made his presence known.

"Get the hell off her," his voice growled.

I felt myself being spun around and afterwards heard a loud crash behind me. Devlin cried out, but by the time I turned to see Aed stalking after him, Devlin was laid out on the floor.

"Aed, don't!"

He ignored my cry as he moved closer.

Shaking his head, Devlin looked up at the prince. "So you're the bloke who stole a kiss from Taryn?"

Aed settled into a fighting stance that I knew all too well. "That's none of your concern. And I'll thank you to keep your hands off her."

Without warning, Devlin leapt to his feet. Before Aed could react, he drove his shoulder into the prince's stomach and together they barreled out through the door of his studio, nearly ripping the door off the hinges in the process.

I hurried after, knowing this would turn into a bloodbath if I didn't put an end to it. Devlin may be strong, but he was going to be no match for Aed.

"Aed, stop this!" I shouted, stepping into the night.

I blinked several times to try to adjust to the change in light. I caught sight of him slowly circling Devlin, looking for a weakness.

"You are not his to touch," Aed growled at me from the darkness.

"And I am not yours, either," I spat.

Aed flinched and looked up to meet my gaze, but Devlin got to his feet to attack again. This time Aed spun and knocked Devlin off his feet. Devlin slid on the grass but pushed back to standing. His bright white shirt was now streaked with dark stains from both the ground and the blood leaking down from his forehead.

"This is mental." I tried to approach, but Devlin put himself between me and Aed.

When I heard the sound of him unsheathing his blade, I froze. "Aed, you canna be serious. You'll kill him!"

"Aye." The glint in Aed's eyes terrified me as he stepped into the dim light coming from Devlin's shop. It was exactly how a warrior looked at their enemy.

Grabbing onto Devlin's arm, I yanked him back. He shouted in surprise, but I didn't look at him as he stumbled back. Instead, I faced off with Aed. "You canna fight him with weapons. He's unarmed."

"Stay out of this, Taryn." Aed looked beyond me at where Devlin stood.

Devlin pushed against my back as I fought to hold him off. "Keep her out of this.

Aed grinned and raised his dagger. It gleamed bright white in the shop light. I looked back at Aed, desperate to find a way to stop this. This was about far more than a single kiss. I knew it likely bothered Aed that Devlin tried to claim me, but his anger went deeper. Seeing me kiss Devlin must have triggered the pain of losing his brother Alroy. He too had fallen for a human and paid that price with his life. I could see the pain of it in his eyes, buried beneath his rage. If I didn't find a way to stop this, Aed would kill Devlin.

"Devlin, let this go."

He stopped pushing against me. "You think I'll lose then?"

I sighed. "I know you will. You are a strong fighter, that much I can see, but Aed has spent his entire life training for battle. He fights Lorcan for a living. And he's angry, Devlin. You have no idea what's driving him."

"Let him fight," Aed called as he paced back and forth. "He has his own demons to exorcise. I can smell the rage on him." The prince was itching for this fight. I knew that feeling all too well, but I couldn't let him take it out on Devlin. That battle should be reserved for his da.

"Please, don't do this—" I pleaded with Devlin, but it was too late.

He pushed my arms aside and dove for Aed. I saw the flash of white from Aed's dagger and screamed a warning. Devlin shifted just in time to miss the full force of the jab, but the blade sliced his arm enough to slow him.

"Aed, think about this," I called as I lost them to the darkness as they tumbled out of sight. "If ya kill him you will lose whatever leverage ya hold now with your da. You canna kill a human in cold blood! You're a reaper yourself! The role of a reaper is to protect human life, not to take it!"

Aed seemed to take little stock in that, so I tried another tactic.

"The whole city will turn on ya. Not to mention the wrath your da will bring down on yer head!"

He hesitated for a moment but then swung his blade. Devlin ducked and rolled back to his feet, but Aed was right on him.

"Devlin, move!" I jumped and ducked, trying to see every move they made. Impaired by the darkness, I was terrified that one of them would finally land a blow that I wouldn't see coming. Devlin knocked Aed aside and raced into his studio. For a moment, I thought maybe he had come to his senses and was retreating. When he returned with a tire iron in hand, I realised he was only trying to level the playing field.

It wouldn't be enough against Aed's blade, but at least he wasn't unarmed anymore.

The clash of metal made me cringe as I rushed forward only to leap back as they tumbled across the yard in front of me. Their grunting echoed against the walls of Devlin's house. I looked at the darkened windows, wondering if Devlin's parents were home. Surely if they were, they would have come out by now.

Aed cried out when Devlin head-butted him as they rolled into the light. Blood spurted from his nose and ran down his face. He wiped at his split lip. "You fight dirty."

"Says the man who brought a knife to a fist fight," Devlin wavered where he stood.

Their chests rose and fell. Both had sustained injuries but looked unwilling to give up. Our kiss may have triggered the fight, but I knew it was now about so much more. Men and their stupid pride.

I wrung my hands, filled with anxiety as I watched them circle each other. I knew Aed had underestimated Devlin. He'd proven to be a far better match than Aed would have considered for a mere human. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

I had to do something.

Stooping down, I grabbed a rock and hurled it at Devlin. It hit his back and he spun just in time for me to leap past him. I tackled Aed, driving him to the ground. Grabbing his wrist, I slammed his hand into the ground. Blood splattered around him, illuminated by the moonlight.

"What are you doing?" He pushed back against me.

"Saving your arse from your da," I growled and fought to push Aed's free hand away. With another slam, his dagger came free.

He elbowed me and tried to roll me off, reaching for the blade, but I was faster. Having the upper hand from where I had him pinned, I pressed the blade to Aed's neck.

"Stop," I shouted.

His eyes were wild with rage as he fell still. His nostrils flared as he seethed.

"Taryn, what are you doing?" Devlin shouted as he approached.

"He won't hurt me," I called over my shoulder.

Aed spat blood to the side. "You shouldn't have interfered. This isn't your fight."

"And ya shouldn't be here either. You followed me, Aed. You had no right to do that."

"It's lucky that I did."

"Lucky?" I shoved him back against the ground, keeping the blade close to his throat. "I am my own person, Aed. Ya need to remember that."

"I remember. And a decent fighter, too." He glared up at me. "You can move the blade now."

"Can I? How do I know ya won't just shove me off and go for him again?"

"Stubborn and smart till the end." His chest shook with laughter beneath me. Then he eyed me up and down. "Still, I can't say I'm not enjoying the view."

Devlin made a step forward but stopped as I pressed the blade harder against Aed's neck. "Enjoy it while ya can." I leaned down over him. "If you ever pull a stunt like this again, I'll be adding ya to my shite list right beside your da."

Aed's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "Fair enough."

A shout from across the field made me tense. I looked up to see no less than ten reapers racing towards us, their whips and glass swords glowing in the dark.

"Bollocks. Taryn, tell your pet human to get inside," Aed commanded.

"I'm not going anywhere," Devlin said, taking another step closer to us.

"If you want to save her life, you will do as I say."

Devlin looked back at me for guidance.

"He's right," I sighed. "The reapers canna know that you can see us. Go. Quickly. Before they discover you."

"I'm not leaving you with him," Devlin said.

I saw the determination in his eyes. If he didn't leave now, it would mean both our heads.

"As you can see, I can take care of myself. Now go. I'd rather not see ya die today."

Our eyes locked and he slowly gave me a nod before he turned and ran back to the safe shadows of his studio.

"You might wanna take the blade away from my neck before the reapers see you," Aed warned.

I glanced up and saw the reapers coming at a fast clip. They had their weapons drawn. It was too late. They had already seen the threat against their prince. Letting out a breath of defeat, I lowered the blade and awaited my fate. There would be no talking myself out of this one. Even the prince couldn't get me out of this. I had held a weapon on the heir to the throne. There were multiple witnesses. I had committed treason. There was little to do now but accept my punishment.

## ~

A cold mist seeped through the barred window overhead, trailing towards the ground. I watched it shift in the dim twilight, flowing like water over the uneven paver stones that lined the dungeon floor. As far as prisons went, it wasn't as bad as what I'd feared.

I sat with my back to the wall, my head propped up and my eyes closed. My arms draped over my filthy knees. The ache in my tailbone grew with each hour, but I ignored it. That pain didn't compare to the gnawing dread in my chest.

There was no way I could get out of this. Nothing would save me now.

Craning my head back, I stared up through the iron bars as footsteps approached. I listened to the shifting of pebbles as the guard moved on. That was the fourth time he'd been around in the past half hour. The castle was filled with unrest. I could only imagine how the king ranted to the council to let my punishment be swift.

I should have known better than to antagonize Aed, but that one kiss changed everything. I'd never looked at Devlin as anything more than a cute, trusted confidant before that moment. But now...there was something between us. A spark, as cliché as that sounded. What was meant to be a rebellious statement for Aed backfired in a major way. I hadn't expected to react so viscerally to Devlin's kiss. I should have known Aed would fight him. Or even that Devlin would fight for me...but pulling a dagger on a prince? What was I thinking?

I had wanted to save Devlin's life. Plain and simple. That fact may now cost me my own.

Wiping my hands down my face, I tried to erase the feeling of dread from when the guards dragged me through the streets earlier. I tried to drown out the sounds of chaos that fell upon the crowds. I still wore evidence of the fruit and vegetables that were tossed at me.

I grabbed a bit of straw off the floor and bent it between my fingers, wishing it were something far more substantial. I wanted to break something. No. I wanted to stab something. What I wouldn't give for a tussle with a Lorcan. Send me over the Wall. I was ready.

A clanking from overhead drew my attention to the door. I peered through the dim candlelight.

"Alright, you scum," a gruff voice called as it descended the spiral stairs leading into my pit. Several cells were carved from the foundations of the castle, each one the same size and shape as mine. I'd yet to see more than a hand or foot protruding from the other cells, but I'd heard them speaking. "Dinner time."

Rising onto my knees, I waited for the guard to approach my cell door. He was a squat man with a rotund belly, rumpled castle garments, and a bald head. A roll of fat lined the back of his head as he bent down to get an eyeful of me.

"Well, what do we have here?" A wide grin stretched across his face, revealing a few missing teeth. "The traitor."

"I am no traitor." I spat at him, satisfied when the glob smacked into his cheek.

"That's not very ladylike, is it?" His smile broadened as he wiped his cheek clean. "The king will hear of this, ya know?"

I fell still.

"It's not right for a girl to know how to fight. To attack the crown prince..." he whistled. "That'll get ya more than a little slap on the wrist. You can be sure the king will want everyone to see this!"

Crawling forward on my knees, I gripped the bars. I could tell he knew something about my fate. "What do ya know?"

When he shook his head, a double chin appeared, speckled with thick bits of oddly grown beard. "Not my place to say, is it?"

"Tell me!" The colour fled from my knuckles as I pressed against the cage door.

The man snorted and shook his head. He planted the soup tureen on his ample hip. "Don't you be worrying that pretty little head of yours, lass. Ya won't be keepin' it for long." He started laughing at his vulgar use of words.

"A public beheading?" I felt cold. They hadn't done anything so barbaric in ages.

"Aye. Should be exciting. The whole town will be rounded up to come and see. Lucky me, I'll have a front row spot."

That cold became bubbling bile rising in my throat. "Aed would never let that happen."

"Aed, is it?" His eyes grew wide. "Pardon me. I didn't realise ya were on such personal speakin' terms with the crown prince."

"I need to speak with him."

The man laughed. "Are you daft? Your head's gonna roll for attackin' him and now you think you get to talk with him? Did ya hit your own head on the ground a few times, lass?"

"I deserve a trial."

"Ya assaulted a member of the royal family. There'll be no trial for the likes of you. The king will decide your fate and that of your family."

"What?" My voice broke. "What about my family?"

"Can't let a traitor's family live so close to the castle, now can they? No. They'll be going over the Wall, sure enough."

"No!" To be banished over the Wall where they would be sitting ducks for the Lorcan was a fate worse than mine. At least my death would be swift. They would be left to endure the ruthlessness of the beasts before their souls were sucked out for good. "This isn't right! They did nothing!"

He ignored me as he slopped his ladle into the soup and dumped it through the bars into a small metal bowl at my feet. I didn't move back as it splattered my dress.

"Please! My family is innocent!"

"They all are," he called back over his shoulder and swept his arm towards the other cells. Hooting and the banging of soup bowls against the bar drove me back into the recesses of my cell. I ignored my meal, the aroma turning my stomach rancid as I slid down the wall and curled my knees into my chest.

"They won't survive a day over the Wall," I muttered, beginning a slow rock. "I can't let this happen."

Hours passed as I turned inwards, mourning the loss of my family. I didn't like my sisters or my ma much for that matter, but I didn't want to see them killed. I had to find a way to save them. No matter the cost.

# CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

## DEVLIN

I WAS PISSED. I'D been out much of the night, trying to find out where Aed's men had taken Taryn by the dying light of my mobile, but I had come up with nothing. Taryn had told me I'd never find the way in, but I couldn't just stand around doing nothing, knowing that she was in danger.

When my phone rang in my hand I answered it a bit too fast, somehow thinking Taryn would be calling, which was preposterous.

"Hello?"

"Devlin?" It was my da.

I glanced down at the phone and noticed the hour. It was nearly ten. They would have returned from dinner with the O'Sheas and were likely checking to find out why I hadn't come home yet. I had no idea what I was going to tell them about why I was out in the fields, or about the shiner I was sporting thanks to my tussle with Aed.

"Thought I'd ring and let ya know your ma and I decided to stay with the O'Sheas tonight."

"Oh?" I asked. They never did stuff like that.

"Well, they brought out a bottle of whiskey after dinner and your mother worried I had a few too many so we're playing it safe. You okay?"

"Aye. Thinking of turning in actually." I rubbed my head against the throbbing there. "I've a bit of a headache."

"Me too." Da chuckled. He had, indeed, had one too many.

"Da, I may not be home when ya get back tomorrow," I said, turning back towards the house. There was nothing more I'd be able to find out here in the dark.

"Why's that?"

"I'm gonna take a bus to Dundrum Bay in the morning. Seamus is out there with a mate," I lied. "I'm gonna see if he's okay. Hopefully, I can convince him to come back with me. Ma said he could stay with us till things got sorted out with his da." I knew she would have told him about our earlier conversation. They didn't keep secrets. Or tell epic lies like I was.

"That's a good idea."

"I may be gone a few days. Not sure. He's a stubborn mule sometimes."

I could hear the phone shift in his hand as he traded ears. Ma was laughing in the background. I smiled despite the situation. It was good to hear her enjoying life again. If only for the night.

"I'd say take as much time as you need to bring him back, but don't you have orders to fill?"

I groaned thinking of all the work I had left to do in my studio. It would take several days to get caught up, but I had more pressing matters. My art seemed so trivial in the grand scheme of things.

"I do. I'll get to it. And if I don't, well, then I don't." I sighed.

"Some things are more important than work," Da said quietly.

"Aye."

We said our goodbyes and I made my way back into the house.

After a shower and tending to the shallow cut on my arm, I wanted nothing more than to lie down and pass out. I was going to need my strength tomorrow. I'd find a way to Taryn. Somehow. There had to be something I was missing.

I was just about to crawl into bed when there was a pounding at my door. Glancing out of my window at the front stoop, I wondered who the hell would be ringing at this hour. I saw only the light of a fire-lit torch. My heart started to race.

Without a second thought, my feet flew to the front door. I ripped it open and saw the prince had returned. There was another figure with him in the shadows, but I couldn't make them out. The torch was sticking up out of the ground, casting dark shadows at odd angles.

"Come to finish what you started?" I asked, joining him outside. My fists had curled themselves, ready to fight.

The prince's expression gave nothing away. His creepy silver eyes glowed in the light of the fire, giving him an appropriate otherworldly air.

"I have come to end this, yes, but not in the manner you are thinking."

He gestured to the person behind him and I discovered it wasn't one person, but two.

"Seamus!" My eyes nearly fell out of my head at the sight of him. He looked a bit worse for wear, but he was standing before me, alive and well. He was without a shirt, so I could see that his shoulder had yet to fully heal. Bandages laced with black ooze still lingered, but he was alert and walking.

A girl stood beside him, her thin arm wrapped around his waist. She appeared to be trying to help him walk, but Seamus seemed to be managing just fine. When she got closer I recognized her as Taryn's friend, Tris.

"Are you alright?" I asked, taking a step towards him.

"He'll be fine," Aed assured me.

I ignored his assurance and took Tris' spot to hold up my friend. She didn't seem keen on giving up her position.

"I'm alright, mate. I have a killer headache and I'm only now starting to feel my arm again, but I'm okay." He glanced back at Tris. "Thanks to my guardian angel over there."

Leave it to Seamus to flirt with a bird even as he was on his deathbed.

I walked him over to the front stoop and forced him to sit down.

"We've done all we can for him," Aed said. "The poison was not allowed to reach his heart thanks to Taryn's quick thinking. It will take a few more days yet, but he will make a full recovery. Because of Taryn's efforts, he'll live."

At that, I turned my attention back on him. "And just where is Taryn?" I hissed. "What did your thugs do to her?" I marched over to where Aed was and stood nose to nose with him, daring him to lie to me.

He narrowed his eyes, but he answered.

"She's in the dungeon for treason against her prince."

"Why, you son of a—" My fist was ready to throw a punch, but the sharp stab at my side caused me to stop. He'd pulled a blade on me.

"I wouldn't advise that."

I took a step back, giving myself and his blade a healthy distance apart.

"While you are a skilled fighter in hand to hand blows, I fear you would be no match against me and my sword."

"Not in the mood for a fair fight today then?" I spat.

He sheathed his blade.

"I didn't come here to fight. Only to tie up loose ends."

I glared at him but waited for him to explain.

"Your human has been returned to this realm as per Taryn's wishes. Our business here is done."

"Like bloody hell it is. You're not leaving here until you tell me what you plan on doing about getting Taryn out of that cell."

Aed took a step towards me. His hand rested casually against the hilt of his sword.

"What happens to Taryn is not your problem. Nothing that happens in Netherworld is your concern. You are a human. You belong here. Neither of you should have been allowed to become aware of our realm." He glanced at Seamus and shook his head. "Apparently because of the Lorcan attack your friend can see us now as well. It's far too dangerous for humans to be interfering in our affairs. Our worlds are separate for a reason! For your safety."

"So that's it? You just drop Seamus off and go?"

"That's exactly it. You shall never cross paths with our kind from this moment on. Is that understood?"

Rage boiled beneath the surface. "No, that is not understood. I won't be told that I'm to just forget about Taryn. I can't. I won't. What we shared—"

Aed laughed. "What you shared? What? A kiss? Don't be daft. She only kissed you to try and make me jealous." He smirked. "It worked, too."

"Bollocks. We have something, and I'm not going to allow her to rot in some cell because you're not man enough to get her out."

His blade was out and at my throat before I could even blink.

"You watch your tongue, boy. Her fate is none of your concern, human."

Seamus came to my side, ready to stand between me and the blade. Tris shrieked at his approach, causing us all to freeze.

"Stop this! Taryn wouldn't want you all fighting. We have to go, Prince Aed. We need to return before the king sentences her!" Tris pleaded.

The prince stared at me for a moment longer but slowly pulled his blade away.

"Fine," he said. "We'll go." Aed turned to look at me. "Do not try to follow after us. Even if you did happen to find the veil, there's no way to cross it unguided."

He turned to leave and I yanked his shoulder back. He glared at me.

"Wait! Take me with you," I pleaded. "I could help break Taryn out."

The prince lowered his head a moment before he pinched his hand to his nose. "You don't understand, do you? She's in that cell because of you. She raised a blade to her prince's neck to protect your life. You can't help her. You're the one who sentenced her there."

My gut pulled itself into knots. Was it true? Was she in trouble because of me?

"You have to get her out of there," I said.

"I will try, but I honestly don't see how. One thing I do know is that you are a danger to her. Do you understand that now?"

I swallowed down the lump that was in my throat.

"Aye. It was never my intent to put her in harm's way." My jaw clenched several times, trying to hold it together.

His hand clapped on my shoulder. We had come to an understanding.

"You'll keep her safe?" I asked.

"I'll do my best."

I nodded once, hoping it would be enough.

"Come, Tris. We must hurry. My father is an impatient man."

Tris looked once at her prince then back at Seamus. She bit her lip and looked at him with huge puppy dog eyes.

She ran over and jumped into Seamus' arms and planted a big wet one on him.

Aed and I exchanged a glance.

"Not you too!" Aed groaned. "What is it with you women and humans?"

The prince walked over and forcibly removed a still clingy Tris from Seamus' arms.

"I'll come back to check on your wound," she cried as Aed pulled her away.

"You will do no such thing! There will be no further communication with this human. Any human. Even if that means I have to put you under a twenty-four-hour watch. I will not bend on this." He yanked her arm hard away from Seamus.

"Hey, leave her alone," Seamus said, trying to get back to Tris.

Aed shoved Tris behind him and drew his sword again.

"That's enough. The longer we linger the less chance I have at saving Taryn's life." He directed that last part to Tris.

Her eyes were filled with tears, but she relented at the thought of saving her friend.

"I love you, Seamus," she wept.

"Oh, for the love of the gods!" Aed said, exasperated. "Let's go." He ripped the torch from the ground and headed back into the night, a weeping Tris trailing behind him.

Seamus tried to advance after them, but I reached out to stop him.

"Let me go. I'm going after her!"

"And I'll follow with ya when the time comes, but we can't do it now. We have to give him time to save Taryn first. Her life is on the line, mate. We can't risk it right now."

Seamus' face was red with anger. "Fine. But we will go back."

I turned to look back at the shadows where they had disappeared.

"Aye. That we will, mate. That we will."

# CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

## AED

THE CROWDS BEGAN TO form not long after dawn. I tried to drown out their murmuring with a pillow over my head, but my stomach was twisted in knots I couldn't ignore. Today was the day Taryn would either live or die. Her fate now rested entirely in my hands.

With Seamus back in the human realm where he belonged, that secret was safe. Tris would never risk her friend's life. Of that I was certain.

Rising from my bed, I moved towards the wash basin and splashed my face. The cut over my eye and along my swollen upper lip stung from the icy water. That human, Devlin, had a mean right hook. My silver eyes stared back at me. The jealousy still lingered there.

I leaned over the basin and stared at myself in the mirror. I hadn't slept well at all. While my mother fretted and my father raged, all I could think about was Taryn locked in the dungeon. A lesser girl would have been terrified, but I had faith she'd hold it together. At least until she saw the chopping block. All bets were off when a man had to face their own mortality. As tough as Taryn was, she had to be scared of that.

I closed my eyes against my reflection. How could my father suggest such a death sentence? Banishment, while horrific, made sense given the crime, but chopping her head off...it was barbaric.

Taryn was right. My father did have it in for her. This felt personal. Obviously her warmongering had greatly angered my father and he wasn't about to let that go anytime soon.

I hurried to finish washing and dressing before heading down to the throne room for the council meeting that would determine if the powers that be would side with my father's insanity. I was to be questioned about her attack, in detail, to help them decide her fate. I'd spent all night trying to figure out what to say but nothing felt right.

The castle was abuzz with activity when I exited my chambers. Everywhere I looked, people scurried around, casting furtive glances at my father's closed council room door.

"Bollocks," I muttered when I saw the closed door and hurried forward, but the guard at the door denied me entrance. My first reaction was to knock the bloke out and storm in, but I restrained myself. The last thing I wanted to do was give my father a reason to doubt me. When I turned away and heard the guard blow out a nervous breath, I knew he was surprised that I didn't take him out too.

With no other choice but to feign patience, I paced outside for nearly an hour before the doors opened. Several men dipped their heads in my direction as they hurried past but none met my eye.

"Ah, Aed. So good of you to join us finally." My father didn't sound like it was good at all.

"The messenger must have got lost on his way to my chambers with the note about the time change, Father. Not to mention you had guards barring the doors," I bit back.

"Indeed." My father's eyes narrowed at my tone. "I'll be sure to have them properly punished for that oversight."

He held out his hand and motioned for me to follow. I gritted my teeth at his side step but kept pace with him. Whether I liked it or not, this was his show and I was just there to make him look good. "The council has agreed to my request for the beheading."

"Request? We both know you demanded this escalation."

The king reached out and placed an arm across my path before we reached the door so that I slammed hard into him. He glanced at a scribe standing nearby and jerked his head to dismiss him. My father waited until we were alone before speaking again.

"You failed in your task, son. I had no other choice but to get my own hands dirty."

"She bested me," I said.

"She is a girl!" he spat.

"A girl who managed to kill a Lorcan at the docks and save countless lives," I reminded him.

"You are the crown prince! No one should ever best you." A vein pulsed down my father's forehead. He puffed out his chest and then exhaled. "I need you to assure me that you have memorized the story I gave you last night. It is the only way to corroborate her attempt to take your life and tie up any loose ends. We can't have you getting cold feet in front of the people and let this traitor go free."

I pressed back my shoulders. The events of the previous night were still fresh in my memory. My father had been beside himself with eagerness when he realised he finally had what he needed to send Taryn to the gallows.

"I know my duty, Father. I will play my part."

"Good. See to it that you do."

With that, my father moved past, leaving me alone. I rubbed at the sore spot on my chest where his arm slammed into me.

"Bastard," I muttered under my breath.

A roar from the crowd outside told me that my father had just emerged from the castle gates. I hurried to follow after. My father's steward motioned for me to pause until my father and mother were seated on the raised platform that had been built overnight. The people of Eimear squeezed into every spare inch of standing room in the castle's courtyard and paths. Children sat on top of parents' shoulders. Others stood outside the walls, craning to hear.

None of them really knew why they were there, but the rumours must have spun out of control after Taryn was dragged off the ferry. I could only imagine how long it took to reach her family.

"Introducing the Crown Prince, Aed..." Trumpets blasted, making everyone flinch as the steward's call was masked.

I ducked under the guards' raised horns and the crowd went wild at the sight of me.

Plastering on a smile, I waved. Girls shoved each other to get the position nearest my empty seat on the platform. I worked hard to keep the smile in place when one tried to grab my foot as I passed. At a stern glance from my father, two reapers rushed forward and dragged the girl away. Others rushed forward to push the line back.

Raising his hand for silence, the king rose from his throne as I took my seat. My mother looked pale and her face was drawn. Her eyes were rimmed with red and puffy from a night of crying. I could only imagine what my father had said to her the night before to upset her so. He had not been kind when she tried to argue with him against a beheading.

I had never seen her so passionate about defending the rights of a commoner before. It had been years since I last stepped foot into the human realm. Maybe she suspected that there was more to my reasoning to follow Taryn than I let on. Or maybe the loss of Alroy had blended with her fear of losing me. Either way, it pained me to know that I helped to make her cry.

"Welcome, good people of Eimear. Though most of you are unaware of why you have been invited here today, I have to ask your forgiveness. Today is not a day for celebration, but for justice."

A whisper began among the crowd, so my father raised his voice to be heard.

"One from among you has committed a grievous sin." He turned and pointed at me. "Just last night, a girl attacked my son while in the human realm. Many of you saw her delivered to the castle in chains."

When he paused for effect, I shifted in my chair. He was enjoying this far too much.

"Taryn Brennan, daughter of a once disgraced soldier in Eimear, has wrongfully attacked the Prince of the Netherworld."

I gritted my teeth when all eyes turned to look at me.

"This girl has no honour, no respect for authority. You have all heard her accuse me of terrible things right outside these very walls as she whispered falsities to anyone who would listen. She believes I am the reason she was attacked in the human realm. We now have proof she has ignored the laws and learned to fight, provoking not one, but two Lorcan attacks. Many of you lost loved ones at the attack not long ago at the docks. Though some call her a hero, I pose another option. I say she provoked the uprising!"

My throat clenched as I watched distrust and suspicion bloom on my people's faces. Taryn didn't stand a chance.

"She is a menace and must be brought to justice."

I looked out at the crowd once more, searching for Taryn's family. They had to be there. While the crowd rose in a cheer of bloodlust that sickened me, I saw one man stand out among them. His eyes were filled with a profound sadness as he clung to his wife and daughters. He had to be the man I was looking for.

My father raised his hands once more for silence. "Some of you might call for banishment. That justice can only be found among the council, and in any other case, I would heartily agree with you. But this is no ordinary situation. Since she has been trained to fight, we cannot risk that she will find a way back from the Hollow Lands. She might even return leading an army of Lorcan against us in search of revenge."

The crowd reacted with excited nods and gasps at the suggestion.

I heard the groan of a gate opening, followed by the clanking of chains. My father smiled and threw out his arms. "I present to you, the traitor!"

Men, women, and even children surged forward to spit at Taryn as she was forced to walk through the crowd. She held her head high. Though her lower lip trembled, not a single tear fell.

She locked her eyes on me and the look there was a punch to the gut. I could see that she was resigned to her fate. Her cool exterior only broke when her father pushed against the crowd to try to get to her side.

"Da!" The pain in her voice tore at me.

I wanted to go to her, to tell her how sorry I was for getting her into this mess, but I remained where I sat. As was expected.

"Bring the traitor to me," the king commanded.

I watched as the guards ripped Taryn from her father's fingertips. The crowd's jeers rose. I cleared my throat and turned to look at my father so that I didn't betray my disgust.

"A threat to my son and my only remaining heir is a direct threat to me." The crowd's roar slowly abated. The king smiled as he stepped to the edge of the platform and stared down at Taryn. "The council convened this morning on your behalf, Taryn. Your fate has been decided."

A man in a long black cloak, head covered, stepped forward. He held an ax in hand. Its silver surface gleamed from sharpening. Behind that stood the wide base of an old tree. No blood stained its ancient rings. Not yet.

Taryn's eyes widened before she turned to spit at my father's feet. "You've had it in for me for ages. Kill me, if ya want, but leave my family alone! They did nothin' to ya. Why banish them if I'm already dead?"

"Banish them?" I sat forward. "What is she talking about, Father?"

The king glanced back at me. "All lies. That's all she has ever said about me."

"He wants to send them over the wall, Aed!" Taryn yelled at me.

My mother flinched beside me at the informal use of my name and I looked over at her. She looked ill again, but I could not go to her. I imagined hearing Taryn call to me would be a shock. No one knew we'd spent time together.

The king smirked. "You see? She is defiant until the end. She dares to ignore my son's title!"

Turning to look at me, he motioned for me to approach. Taryn's eyes shifted to look at me and I saw confusion, betrayal, and pleading in her eyes. She spoke none of it as I moved closer.

"My son has confessed to me the events of last night in great detail." The king clapped his arm around my shoulder and presented me to the crowd. "Go on, son. Tell them what happened."

Taryn never lowered her gaze when I looked away from her and stared out over the crowd. "It is true. Taryn and I were found together by the reapers last night in the human world."

A hush fell over the crowd. I felt the tension grow in my father's grip and Taryn's gaze drilling a hole in my soul.

"The attack was my fault," I called out, loud and clear.

"What?" My father yanked me around. "What are you doing?"

"Playing my part, as promised." I shook him off and stepped around him. "As you all know, I was commanded to return from my post at the Wall in order to select a bride. My father feels it is the time I take my place as his heir and ensure that our lineage carries on."

"Aed," my father growled in my ear. "I don't know what you think you are doing—"

I stepped away from him to address my people.

"I can understand why the reapers misunderstood the situation. It did look rather...threatening, but I assure you it was far from it." I smiled down at Taryn. "Good people of Eimear, my father is mistaken. Taryn did not attack me. She saved me. Fighting at the Wall has taught me a great deal about life, about duty and honour, but Taryn has taught me the most important thing of all...how to love."

My father sounded like he choked on his anger behind me, but I did not turn to look at him.

"And so I have chosen my bride!"

Reaching down, I helped Taryn up onto the platform beside me. For the first time, she looked completely bewildered and I held out my hand to her jailer. "The key, please."

The fat little man looked confused as he handed it over. With great care, I unlocked her shackles and tossed them off the platform. Taking her hands in mine, I raised them to my lips.

"What are ya doin'?" she hissed.

"Saving your arse. Go along with it if you want to live." I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Taryn was a bit taken back when I asked her to be my intended. I'm sure you can imagine that it would be a shock to anyone, but she has graciously accepted. What the reapers witnessed was nothing more than the playful sparring of two people in love. So, Father, this is a day of celebration for I am to be married!"

Countless glances were shared among the crowd. None seemed sure if they should clap or not. Finally, one clap started. Then another. Soon the entire crowd was hooting and cheering.

I smiled and waved as I held Taryn against my side. "Try to pretend like you are happy," I muttered to her.

She smiled through her teeth as she whispered her thanks. "Aye. I'm happy that I'll have my head for a wee bit longer, but don't think for a moment that this is over."

"How did I know you would say that?" I whispered, placing a deliberate kiss on the top of her head for the crowd.

A hand fell on my shoulder and yanked us apart. "I forbid that you marry this girl. She is a traitor."

"On what grounds, Father? You've heard my testimony." I leaned in closer to him. "Do you want to call your only son and heir a liar in front of your people?"

His face flitted from colourless to boiling red. "How dare you—"

"Oh, I dare." I stepped closer to him, letting my grip on Taryn slide just enough to reach my father. "You can't touch her now. She's mine."

"Not yet, she isn't!" the queen spoke for the first time.

I turned in shock to see my mother rising from her seat. All colour had fled from her face and she looked weak in the knee, but the determination I saw in her stature shocked me.

"Mother?"

"Your father is right, Aed. She is not a suitable queen."

"At least on that one we agree," Taryn muttered.

"I have already made my decision, Mother." I took Taryn's hand in mine and raised it for all to see. Without Taryn realizing it, I had slipped a diamond band onto her finger. She gasped right along with the crowd. "The engagement is official and you are all witness to my future happiness."

The anger radiating off my father could have melted the deepest frost as he glared at me. Then he looked beyond me at the confused but exuberant celebration of his people. My father's jaw clamped down. I could see the gears in his mind working hard to find a way around this, but it was my mother who found it.

She stepped forward and commanded the attention of the crowd. "Though my son's heart might be leading this decision, the fate of our entire realm cannot be placed on a single common girl. She is not of noble birth or from a family with good standing with the crown. Despite your...affections for the girl, my son, I must insist that others be considered."

Taryn watched my face as I tried to hide the hurt of her betrayal. She was the last person I'd expected to fight me on this.

"What do you propose?" I asked. I tightened my hold on Taryn's hand, sure that she would run if I gave her the chance. She would never make it past my father's guards.

"You will travel our lands to meet the finest ladies from among the Nether realm. From those, you will select your bride based on the council that your father and I give you."

"And what of Taryn?"

She trembled as she stood beside me, but I couldn't tell if it was from nerves or anger. I guessed the latter.

"She will remain with us at the castle until the matter is decided," my father huffed.

"I will not agree to that," I refused. "If she is engaged to me then she will be at my side at all times."

"That is hardly appropriate," my mother protested.

"Then we will appoint ladies in waiting to see to her needs and to keep things between us...professional." I smiled at that. When I looked down at Taryn I knew she'd like nothing more than to kick me in the groin for that remark. "That will ensure that her virtue remains intact while I preview your selections."

When my mother worried on her lower lip, I was shocked to see this weakness. She was always so perfect, so regal. When she looked at my father, I knew I was winning.

"Those are my terms, Mother. Agree with them or I will wed Taryn in secret and return to my post at the Wall."

My father glanced at the crowd, no doubt all too aware of how our private display had turned public. He forced a smile and turned to the crowd. "The Crown agrees. A royal selection will commence in three days' time. And your betrothed, Taryn Brennan, will remain at your side as my guest."

# EPILOGUE

## ALANA

WHILE I KNEW IT hadn't been all that long, it felt as though we'd been riding on this boat to the Isle of Glass for an eternity. The women at the Transition Centre assured us it would only take two days should the wind stay in our favor. Not that I was complaining. The boat was lovely. Everyone so far had been so accommodating. The quarters I was stationed in, while small, suited my modest needs. Not that I had many, being dead and all. It was odd not to need food or use the facilities anymore but that didn't mean there weren't other things about my human life that still lingered here.

Fashion, for instance, appeared to be just as relevant here as it had been when I was alive. In fact, when Taryn left me at the Transition Centre on Eimear, she told me that it was to get properly dressed for my journey.

I had assumed that meant items to protect me against the elements for the boat ride. Nothing could have prepared me for the gowns they packed for those of us travelling to the Isle of Glass. And the baths! The recently deceased were treated to these natural springs that were divine. They reminded me of a time back on Earth...there was this natural pool. Who did I use to go there with? It was on the tip of my tongue.

"Blast it," I cursed to no one in particular. That was the hardest part about being here. I couldn't seem to remember much of anything about my time alive. Taryn had told me that was for the best. It was better to have our minds be free of memories before we could move on. Despite that, I had tried in vain to cling to them. I remembered that I had a family. Of that, I was certain...I just couldn't recall any of their names. One of them had red hair like me. I think.

We were told once we got to the Isle of Glass our memories of our human lives would be long forgotten. I was starting to wonder if that might be better than this distorted life I couldn't piece together.

A gust of wind stirred a stray strand from my plaited hair across my face. I tucked the rogue hairs behind my ear and stared out at the vast ocean in front of me. For days we had seen nothing but water all around us but today there was some land in the distance. I had been hopeful it was our destination, but I was quickly assured we had several days yet to travel.

Sighing, I ran my hand along the ship's railing and looked down at the gown I chose this morning. The fabric was unlike anything I had ever felt. Well, at least, I think that was true. I couldn't remember. The closest comparison I had was silk, but somehow, this was even more luxurious. The shade of green was soft like moss. It was the sort of dress you just wanted to keep touching.

The wind kicked up again and knocked one of the numerous flowers out of my hair. Why they had to weave in so many flowers as they braided was beyond me. Pulling one of the yellow flowers free, I held it to my nose. It was odd, but I felt like I should be sneezing this close to the flower, and yet, they didn't seem to bother me. Did I have allergies in my past life? So many questions, and no one with any information on my time on Earth. I supposed it didn't matter now.

As I looked ahead into the mist covered water, I cocked my head to the side, curious about something approaching a few metres ahead of our ship. It was not a boat. It was much too small for that, but there did seem to be several things breach up from the water. I couldn't make out what they were based on their shape. They almost looked like overturned hulls or decomposed sharks, which made no sense. Then again, I was in a world I knew little about.

Curious, I peered harder, trying to discern what the creatures were. Something about their silent, slithering, and rather ominous approach didn't sit well with me.

"Excuse me," I asked one of the men guiding us across the water. "Do you know what those are?"

The sailor seemed annoyed that I interrupted his rope pulling job, but he obliged my request and took a step over to where I had seen the shapes. The rope he was holding suddenly slipped out of his hand and his face turned a sickly shade of white.

"Sir, are you alright?" I asked, wondering if he might faint.

"Lorcan!" he shouted, turning on his heel and running towards the captain of the vessel.

"What's a Lorcan?" Curious, I tried to gain another peek when I was interrupted by shouting.

In a flash, the boat was alive with activity as the crew began arming themselves with long swords and whips. They began shouting at us to get below deck.

While the other passengers followed, screaming as they went at the sudden danger, I remained frozen to the rail, unable to pull my eyes off the approaching shapes. There seemed to be about a dozen or so of them. Perhaps more. Spears from the deck began to harpoon the approaching figures, but they had little effect. The blades simply bounced off of their flesh and into the water.

One of the men rushed close to where I was standing, what looked like a butcher knife clutched in his hand. He peered down to assess the situation and came back a moment later, screaming in agony. One glance at where he had been looking told me why. Falling down into the water with a butcher knife sticking out of its eye was the vilest and most terrifying thing I had ever seen. My head whipped back to ask what that thing was when I noticed the man's face bore a diagonal span of gashes from forehead to chin. A black substance mixed in with the blood and exposed bone, seemingly burning what little remained of his face.

If I had been able to throw up, I surely would have.

"Get her down to the lower deck," the captain shouted seeing me standing on deck.

Just then the shapes disappeared from view. My eyes widened to try and figure out where they went to. That was when noises from below echoed upwards. It was the unmistakable sound of splintering wood. Then came the screams. Blood piercing and fear laced screams. There was little doubt where the beasts had gone. They had attacked the ship from below.

As though on cue, the boat began to take on water at an alarming rate.

"Abandon ship! Abandon ship!" came the captain's cries.

I looked around as sailors jumped off the ship and into the very same waters as the creatures had just been. At first, they seemed to be making headway but then were plucked downwards with a scream so terrifying I knew I'd never forget it.

My breath came fast and quick. There was no escape. It was either stay here and wait for the water, or worse, those things to claim me, or try my luck out-swimming the beasts.

"What do they want?" I shrieked.

"Your soul."

"But we're already dead!" I said.

"Aye, your body may no longer be of Earth, but your soul is eternal. And it is that which they seek. If they take that, ya cease to exist. Not even in the afterlife. Now swim, lass. Swim like you've never swum before," he shouted, lifting me off my feet and hurling me into the water.

My body landed with a hard slap as the icy water hit me. Instinctively, I kicked my feet as hard as I could to get to the surface but after a few seconds I found I wasn't struggling for air as I imagined I would. Then it struck me. I was dead. I had no need to breathe. Opening my eyes against the dark water, I made out some rocks up ahead. I swam towards them as fast as I could, never once looking back at the dangers I knew lurked behind me. I knew if I did, I'd never make it to shore.

As I swam, I heard the muffled screams from those still fighting the things that were dragging the ship to the bottom of the ocean. I had to keep swimming. I had to put as much distance as my legs would carry me.

When my fingers reached the slippery rocks I wasted little time pulling myself up onto the shore. I ran for several paces before I had the courage to stop. Collapsing onto the ground, I expected myself to be winded from the exertion of such a swim, but I wasn't. Save for being terrified, my energy level was the same as before I had been tossed into the water. Being dead had its advantages.

I peered through the safety of the shadows of the surrounding trees to take stock of the damage of what the captain had called 'Lorcan' had done. I was shocked to find there was nothing to see. The waters were empty, with no ship to be found. It was as though the sea had swallowed it and all those aboard whole.

"Bloody hell," I whispered.

Looking around me at what appeared to be a foreign land. I was stranded in a world I didn't understand with no one to help me and danger lurking off the shore.

Taryn had not prepared me for this. She had told me I'd be safe once I got to the Isle of Glass. That was when I realised...I wasn't there yet. And I was far from safe.

# END OF BOOK 1

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#

# AUTHOR BIOS

A my Miles is the author of over 25 published novels in varying genres, including her bestselling YA books, The Arotas Series. She is the co-Founder of Red Coat PR and also the co-Founder of Penned Con St. Louis. Amy is an urban homesteader, weekend golfer, and Netflix binge addict who lives with her husband and son in sunny South Carolina.

 Danielle Bannister lives with my two children in Midcoast Maine where I try my best to avoid the sun and all the nature trying to devour me. I've written several novels that explore love and loss in unique ways. When I'm not writing I can be found in front of my kindle or binge watching Netflix while sipping my coffee with copious amounts of peppermint mocha creamer.

# OTHER WORKS BY AMY MILES

THE AROTAS SERIES

Forbidden, Reckoning, Redemption, Evermore

THE IMMORTAL ROSE TRILOGY

Desolate, Savage

Refuge Coming 2018

THE RISING TRILOGY

Defiance Rising, Relinquish, Vengeance

THE WITHERED SERIES

Wither, Resurrect, Affliction

HIDDEN CHAPTERS

One Hard Ride, Preying on You, Four the Night

THE TRICKSTER TRILOGY

The Trickster, The Ruby Eye

The Last Trick Coming 2018

THE HALLOWED REALM TRILOGY

Netherworld

Hollow Earth (Coming 2018), Isle of Glass (Coming 2019)

Zombie High Chronicles #1

Waiting on Us

A Love Restored

In Your Embrace

Obsidian Flames

Nailed It

Blogged That

# OTHER WORKS BY

# DANIELLE BANNISTER

### Available Now

The Twin Flames Trilogy:

Pulled, Pulled Back, and Pulled Back Again

Enigma

Netherworld

The ABC's of Dee

Short Shorts

Doppelganger

### Coming Soon

Must Love Coffee

The Lurker Within: A Havenwood Falls Novella

Hollow Earth: The Hallowed Realms Book 2

# FOR MORE INFORMATION

### Amy Miles

You can visit her website at:

<https://amymilesbooks.com/>

### Danielle Bannister

You can visit her website at:

<http://daniellebannister.wordpress.com/>

