Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Maris kneels, staring at the girl. “This is not the girl I saw. This girl is named Eionnette. She was one of the girls who kept Bronwyn’s clothes. This is not Bronwyn.”
Glannis holds her wrist and nods toward the queen. “Yes. We rather thought that when we used the bone to bring back her image. Worry not, Your Highness. We’ve already tested the queen’s skull. She’s dead. And, of course, you killed Seamus yourself.”
“Seamus is very dead. I know that.” I feel weary. Seamus is, once again, standing in the same room, his ghostly eyes passing judgment, though this time there’s a hint of fear there, too.
“But his daughter is alive.” Una passes a hand through the ghost girl and it fades with the fog, leaving behind a single small bone. All that is left of the girl.
Seamus’s eyes flare, and I’m pretty damn sure if my dead brother could kill, he would have his hands around the hag’s throat.
I make a decision. I can scream and wail and beat my chest, but it would give my brother a sense of satisfaction. Seamus knew his daughter is alive. He hid it for years. He hoarded the knowledge like a treasure trove of gold that keeps him here with us.
I thought my victory over my brother complete, but there is one last battle to win.
I keep my voice calm, my demeanor kingly. “So Bronwyn killed her servant and ran?”
Glannis laughs, the sound more like a nasty cough than actual joy. “No, Your Majesty. Bronwyn Finn never showed a single talent for magic. It tends to start early. She would have shown an aptitude, and her parents would have placed her with a mentor.”
Una taps her nonexistent lips with a bony finger. “I’ve been thinking about the Unseelie princess, Your Majesty.”
I grit my teeth. It makes perfect sense. She’s the one we couldn’t vet. She’s the one Maris wasn’t able to keep out. “Then Gillian McIver is still in Tír na nÓg, too.”
Glannis smiles. “Oh, yes, Your Majesty, and she’s the reason why we’re going to find them. The Unseelie have a particular magic about them, even when the magic is pure and white. It’s a signature of sorts.”
Maris looks up, her pale skin a rosy pink in the light of the fire. “You’ve found them?”
Una shrugs. “We’ve found a strong Unseelie signature in an agricultural district. We believe that the Princess Gillian saved Bronwyn and attempted to get her out of Tír na nÓg. If we’re right, she failed, and Bronwyn has been hiding here.”
She waves a hand across the back cave wall and a small map lights up, the provinces of Tír na nÓg flaring. There are two provinces glowing with color, one stronger than the other.
“That’s Tuathanas and Aoibhneas.” Tuathanas is a bright red, but Aoibhneas is pink. “Are they in both places? Tell me it’s Aoibhneas. I hate those freaks. The mayor is an utterly insane man, but he turns out to be quite adept at both politics and defense. I would love a good reason to torch the whole town.”
Maris rolls her eyes. It’s a point of contention between us. “And where would you get your horses? Where would the palace get the confections we’ve come to love? Aoibhneas produces many of our luxuries.”
“And many of our radicals.” The sooner I kill them all the better.
“It matters not, Your Majesty,” Una argues. “The princess is in Tuathanas. The color is much brighter there, and the Unseelie magic has been going on for much longer. I wouldn’t be surprised if the other was caused by some passerby. It’s strong but temporary. See, it’s already fading, but Tuathanas is going strong. This is where to send the troops.”
My brother’s ghost is gone again.
I take a long breath. One last little girl to kill.
“I’ll send the troops tonight.”
Chapter Twelve
Shim
“Will you be all right in here?” Rachel looks around the loft room. It’s small, the floor covered in straw. There’s a stove, a chair, a wooden closet, and a cot. Lach sits in the chair, leaving me no place to rest except the cot. “This is where Max sleeps when he has a sick animal or when I get mad and kick him out of our bed. I can find some space in the house if you would rather. It’s rough out here.”
I shrug. “We’ve been in worse. Sincerely, Mrs. Harper, we’re fine out here. After what happened earlier, I’m happy you’ll let us stay on your land at all.”
Rachel opens the closet and pulls out a couple of woolen blankets, handing one to me and then Lach. “I’m just glad the dead things are dead again. I heard they popped up all over the village. Our healer ended up having to knock the mayor out with a sleep spell. He was walking around with the hidden vamp tech we’ve been gathering for the rebellion shooting corpses and talking about something called the zombie apocalypse. None of us knows what that is. We’re lucky Caleb is damn good with that spell.”