I stared at my empty mirror, awaiting a sturdy young woman with a violet fringed crown. Over three days had passed since Maya was supposed to meet me. I’d fiddled with my stacks of transcription notes from Aengus’ book and reorganized them ten different ways. When my legs became too stiff from sitting so long, I set the papers aside in their hiding place under my mattress and paced circles around my chamber. Even when I lazed in my bed after dizziness overtook me, my gaze wandered toward that portal.

Three days turned to five before I realized she wasn’t coming.

I barged to my desk where Aengus’ book lay shut. The gold knotwork inside the key on the cover resembled a jeering smirk, mocking me. Had it watched while I slogged through its meandering passages and wrote until my knuckles refused to stretch further than a claw? Had it laughed as it observed my steady progress and knew all along I would slam into this obstacle? The notes still predicted my demise like a grand prank my family had collectively planned. Would it brag over my failure to follow through on the margin notes, the jest’s epic climax?

“See how you like falling toward oblivion!” I grabbed the book by its spine and pitched it at my door.

Someone opened said entryway and stole the satisfaction of the cursed thing thudding to the floor. It careened into a calloused hand that whipped up to protect the new target: Father’s face.

“That throw had good heft to it. You might have had potential with a sling if you weren’t so soft.” Father traced over the ram and butterfly on the cover. “What is this?”

“A book.” I sputtered as heat brimmed up my neck. Did he feign ignorance at what the tome held or had my uncle never told him about its existence? “I’m borrowing it from Aengus’ library.”

“Then don’t lob it about.” Father flipped through a few of the pages. His nostrils flared. “Ah, one of his mystery records. Unraveling those glamours is always frustrating. Take more care with things that aren’t yours, else someone will take them when you aren’t looking.”

“What do you want?” I crossed my arms over my chest, tucking my trembling hands from sight. Aengus had written that only Bodb, Father, and himself knew about the Key’s destruction, and swore an oath so thorough they couldn’t even hint at it. Father still knew, though, still remembered when he permitted the death of his only son. If he could agree to that, I had no doubts he would foil my plans, should he discover them.

“What do you think?” Father snapped the record shut and set it back on my desk with its front facing down. My heart calmed a fraction. “Fergal just finished giving his report for the month.”

“What does this have to do with me?” I turned my nose up at the taller man. A reprimand then. He wouldn’t be as calm had he known about Maya’s presence. “Are you only now bothering to instruct me on running your empty household when you leave it behind?”

“You know full well what Fergal’s report has to do with you.”

“Aye, my nursemaid enforcing your edict. I’m sure he regaled you with tales of how I stayed inside my room, reading during his other patrols. Very dangerous to Mother.”

“That’s enough of your insolence.” The bluster drained from Father’s face and he smoothed back his circlet from his hair. “How is Etain?”

“How do you expect? Unwashed, unkempt, tearing her tapestries to pieces. She spotted me and didn’t even recognize me.”

“She has these forgetful periods.”

“They’re worse when she’s isolated.”

“All the more reason you have to keep your distance. She has to stay calm, unprovoked, else she might break out of Brigid’s spell and harm herself.” Father’s grip tightened over his circlet and he bent the soft gold ring. “Danu knows how much this ridiculous feast will over excite her.”

“There’s a feast?” Both of my eyebrows rose. “What’s the occasion?”

“Bodb sent the message out this morning. In a fortnight, he is formally announcing his stepping down and declaring me his heir.” Father curled his lip as he pressed his circlet back into its proper shape with his thumb. “Everyone must attend, especially the reigning council monarchs. The true purpose is to gauge the other provinces’ support. Better no one ever knew about this farce of a succession and we kept this business between us and the council. But our High King does love his political shows.”

“So Mother has to accompany Brigid.” My chest fluttered with both trepidation and anticipation. “Perhaps the dancing will remind her of herself.”

“Brigid insisted that she supervise you as well.” Father jabbed his finger against my chest. “If Etain so much as raises a hand to threaten you, I made her swear to send you home early.”

“I’m considering doing that anyways.” And sneaking away to see Maya. “What of Riona? Is she required to attend as well?”

“She is part of everyone, isn’t she?” Father frowned and narrowed his eyes. “Why ask after her?”

“If I become too bored, provoking her might prove entertaining.” I shrugged and hooked my thumbs in my belt. That hypothetical had come up at past feasts, when I’d been in more vindictive moods.

“Then take one of your usual lads or lasses to bed.” Father strode further inside my quarters, tight fists clenched at his sides. He towered over me with a scowl that cowed mightier enemies on the battlefield. “For this one night, listen to your urges of self-preservation. Indulge them, even. I will not have you stirring up Fuamnach’s Fomor-touched spawn.”

“Where was all this concern for my safety all the times Brigid or Mother showed you the burns from her chains?” My nostrils flared as I raised my chin higher.

“You earned every one of those by not doing as told and staying away from her.” Father set his circlet into his hair, smoothing his glimmering locks from the edges of his rigid jaw. “You realize that Fuamnach hated me for centuries, but always in silence. She only acted upon those impulses when I was foolish enough to insult her legitimacy as Lady of Bri Leith by marrying Etain and bringing her home. We need Riona to stay sequestered inside her hole, with nothing but petty remarks floating around her insidious mind.”

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“With her oaths, the worst she can do is run against you.” I stroked my chin as I ran through the possibilities. She very well could. Her direct blood tie to the Dagda’s Brood made her immune from the loyalty oaths that prevented the other houses from running. Would she dare it though? With her sordid reputation, she would have to exhaust herself campaigning. It would take traveling from province to province, meeting each council representative in person…

That was it, the loophole I needed. My restrictions kept me from taking Maya to Ilbrec of Uliad, Cliona of Mumhan, and Finvarra of Connacht to fetch their sacred treasures. My sister could come and go as she pleased. If Maya accompanied her somehow, we had a chance.

“She’s too clever to fight that losing battle.” Father nudged the edge of my chair back so it balanced on its hind legs, teetering between staying upright and tipping over. “Yet even the slightest push from you, the embodiment of all that might have been hers, could drive her to find a different way to sabotage us. There would be no better time to strike than when she must change her loyalty oaths from Bodb to me.” He let go of the chair and let it land where it may. It fell into the ground and the crack of the wood crashing against the cobbled floor thundered between the domed walls. “These years of peace, overturned. What’s left of our race, torn apart by civil war or worse. All because you wanted to entertain yourself and inspired Riona to enact her vengeance.”

“You worry too much, Father.” I swiped away his concern with the meddlesome strand of hair tickling my face. “It wouldn’t be as grave as all that—”

“Daire!” A familiar young face popped through my skylight, dimples in his cheeks and his pale ringlets bouncing where they hung. Uncle Aengus. “Those wards were a veritable maze. A few of those twists could have fooled Manannan Mac Lir himself. You’ll make a good accomplice next time I take him on.”

“Leave them intact when you leave, won’t you?” Even as heat flooded my cheeks anew at the sudden praise, I hunched my shoulders to my ears. The energy emanating off of Father and my uncle crowded the air. They were far too close to the book about the Key and my corresponding notes. “I was going to ask Father to leave soon so I could prepare for Bodb’s upcoming feast.”

“It’s weeks away. You have plenty of time to prepare.” Aengus crawled through and dropped into the room, his soft boots landing with a light couple of taps. His purple cloak fluttered after him and swirled around like it had life of its own.

“I was in the middle of reprimanding the boy.” Father’s firm brow relaxed and his grim mouth softened into an annoyed line.

“I won’t be long.” Aengus strolled toward my bed and peeked under the corner of my blanket. Not even he could sense my notes, I reminded myself. That didn’t stop the fine hairs on the back of my neck from standing on end. Uncle Aengus dropped the cover and moved on from my bed to my mirror. “Searching for something I lost. My mind gets so scattered.”

“What exactly would that be?” I edged toward Father and stepped into Aengus’ eye-line, between him and the book. If he’d left it, then I shouldn’t be so worried about him taking it. But what if leaving it had exploited only a temporary gap in his oaths? What if he hadn’t left it at all? No, he wouldn’t mean me harm. Still, the loyalty among the Dagda’s Brood ran deep. Despite that he had given me a chance, he was duty-bound to aid his High King.

“A book from my archives.” He shoved the looking glass’ frame aside and found only a blank wall behind it. Then he slanted his gaze toward Father. “Midir, you wouldn’t have seen such a book, would you? Covered in pretty ivy knots, wrapping around a ram and a butterfly?”

“What is it? A record of mine and Etain’s history?” Father crossed his arms over his chest and his biceps tightened. “Macabre of you to archive that while the two of us are still alive.”

“It has more to do with the product of your union.” My uncle ventured toward my bed again and fell into the pile of pillows atop it. He winked at me before continuing to address Father. “I need it for Bodb. He wanted to know something about the Key for when it passes to you at Samhain.”

I leaned back against my desk and pressed the heels of my hands against its edge. The sharp brim of the wood bit, but my attention stayed riveted, flicking between my two elders. Father had seen that very design moments ago. Had he forgotten so quickly? All he had to do was turn around to find what Aengus sought.

“If I find a tome like that, I’ll return it to you.” Father bowed his head, his expression a blank mask. “Anything else?”

“No, I suppose not.” Aengus sighed as he sprang to his feet. “I’ll search around Bru Na Boinne another time.”

I waved and forced a smile as Father and I exchanged farewells with Aengus. My uncle wrapped his cloak about his body and shrank, then sprouted feathers as he transformed into a swallow with a clear song. I focused on the skylight and waited for those little flapping wings to become a dot against the open sky and vanish as he flew away. When I turned back to father, his glower was back in place and a chill ran up my spine.

“It appears as though you stole this.” He grabbed the book and held it up. The knotwork on the cover smirked at me anew.

“If I did, you just made yourself my accomplice.” I curled my fingers over the lip of my desk, my nails boring into it. The situation had to be salvaged somehow. But I had to keep a tight rein on my panic. Father couldn’t know how much I knew about my fate, about the spell Aengus weaved into those pages to save me. “Why not tell him?”

“And openly expose that my heir is an ungrateful thief?” He snorted. “What did you even hope to accomplish with this? Trying to escape your duties?”

“Perhaps, not that it would help.” I turned my glare on the book. “You saw the empty pages.”

“If you were anyone else’s son, you would be happy with your new position and your doting relatives.” Father tucked the book inside his belt and turned away. “But you’re mine, you’re Etain’s, and we’ve never been known to give up easily.”

“Wait!” I grabbed his cloak. “Don’t bother taking the book. Let me give it back to him.”

“If you took it once, I’m sure you can do it again.” Father tugged his garment out of my grasp and marched back the way he came. The door slammed behind him, its thud reverberating throughout my quarters worse than the toppled chair.

I held my forehead, both my palms slick with cold sweat. The edges of my vision became lines of flashing white spots as my breathing picked up to match my heart and all the composure I’d managed shattered. I collapsed to my knees with my mind swimming. That book was the only way to get the last clue. There was no telling how long gathering the treasures would take, but without knowing what to do after, how could I make it work in time?

I squeezed my eyes shut. The darkness behind my lids stretched in front of me, and the rushing of air in and out of my lungs so fast made my body light. For a moment, I could almost imagine floating. Was that what death was like, hovering over an endless blackness for the rest of eternity?

No, I wasn’t there. Not yet.

I forced myself to see, and absorbed the earthen walls of my chamber. The glowing stones cast soft light over the green and gold decor. The breeze’s grassy perfume rushed through my nostrils and filled my chest. One of Mother’s tapestries met my gaze. It was of of a matronly swan nipping at her hatchling, the baby nestled under her wing. Trapped in that cell of a room, Mother still fought for what control she had. Even if it was to her own detriment. Even if every battle she waged would end in her own passing, she strove for her freedom.

I pushed myself to my feet. For once I agreed with Father about something. I came from a warrior who held onto his lover against all advice from his family, and an ancient woman who struggled against oppressive caretakers to decide her own fate. No matter if I disagreed with both their goals, their drive to fight for what they wanted ran through my veins. I had my notes and a loose plan to do the next step of the spell. If I had to, I would steal back that book when the time came. If I couldn’t do that, I would find another way to finish Aengus’ magic.

“Samhain will not be my end,” I swore aloud. And if there was anything an Aos Si did best, it was keeping oaths.