“Hello,” I said.

“They do not speak, for they have no tongues.” Ixia sauntered into the room in a regal gown of shimmering silver thread and beads. She looked down her perfect nose at me.

I realized at once that she had betrayed Balen and the entire House of Sydhr. “You’re the one who told Nox about me, about the foretelling.”

She smirked, strolling along the far wall, running her delicate fingers over the marble dresser and mirror, picking up items that had been placed there for me. “Light Bearer,” she laughed. “You’re not so special, you know.”

She was jealous, something that was both surprising and empowering. Ixia of Sydhr, one of the most beautiful Danaans I’d ever seen, was jealous of me. Though, now that I understood her heart, she was not so beautiful anymore.

“And you thought by betraying your house and all of Innis Fail you would what, Ixia? Become powerful? Wealthy? Why would you betray your own brother?”

“Because he fights a losing battle. Innis Fail is dying and only Nox can save it. I won’t fade away and grow old like the rest of them. Balen believes in a foretelling that spelled his death. Why should I follow a leader who will fall? Where is the hope in that? Were we to place our hopes on you?” She snorted. “You who cannot even call a drop of water?”

“Yet, you would live here when I am queen, under my rule.” Somehow I doubted that.

She paused in her perusal of a trinket box on the dresser. “You’ll not be queen in truth. Aye, you’ll bear Nox’s children, but you’ll have no real power, no say, no freedom. He coddles you now, but that won’t last beyond the next moon.”

She picked up a gold ring set with a red stone from the trinket box, slipped it on her finger, admired it, then left the room, keeping the ring and dismissing me.

Oddly, I was not angry. Ixia had come here to put me in my place, to scare me, when in truth, it was she who was afraid. Afraid of losing her place to me.

The servants approached and removed my soiled gown.

I went down the marble steps into the pool, the hot water closing in around my shoulders. Both servants followed me in still wearing their gowns. They washed my hair and body then left me to soak in the water.

The heat seeped gradually and luxuriously into my skin. I floated onto my back and closed my eyes, my thoughts turning to my mother. What would she have me do? How was I to bear the Light back to Innis Fail and keep Nox from stopping me or retrieving it again? Could I leave and abandon Father as he had abandoned me? How did I free Balen? Should I get close to Nox? Win his trust ?

The servants returned some time later to dry me off and rub fragrant oil into my skin. My muscles became pliant under their skilled hands, making me sleepy and making my heartache and grief duller than before.

After the oil, my hair was brushed until it shined. The servants attached a pair of gold earrings with two small pearls at the ends to each lobe. I lifted my arms when directed, and a sheer gown was placed over my head. It was simple, the color an iridescent white like the pearls of my earrings. It hung over one shoulder, leaving the other bare, and pooled at my ankles in a long, unencumbered line of fabric.

Once the gown was on, they pulled the sides of my hair back, pinning them with a pearl clasp. Thankfully, this time, slippers of the softest white leather accompanied the outfit.

The servants left. I went to the dresser and opened the trinket box, curious to see what Ixia had seen. There, nestled atop a velvet lining, was an array of extravagant jewels. I closed the box. This life was so tempting. Things I’d never dreamed of owning where right here in front of me. Beautiful things. Gowns. Jewels. Leisure. Servants. All things my Anu family was accustomed to, but I was not.

A knock at the door made me jump. The trinket box lid closed with a loud crack.

I faced the door, drawing in a steady breath, before turning the knob. My father waited in the hallway. His presence took me by surprise, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever grow accustomed to seeing him.

“Deira,” he began in a reserved tone. “Supper is ready.”

I studied his aged face and the fine clothes he wore. I remembered how hard it had been to walk away from Balen and wondered if my father had felt the same excruciating pain when he walked away from me. “What should I do, Father?” I asked suddenly. “Did you love my mother?”

He let out a weary sigh as we left my chamber and headed down the hallway. “Aye, I loved your mother very much. She stole my heart and my life here in Éire, but I cannot blame her for that.”

“She would want me to save Innis Fail.”

He nodded. “I believe she would.”

“But you believe my place is here.”

“I do.” He paused. “Forgive me, Deira. I wanted to take you with me after your mother passed on. I intended to, but I would not have been allowed to pass through the Void with you, such was the bargain I made.”

We continued on. “Then why didn’t you turn back and stay in Falias with me?”

“Because my presence there was precarious without your mother. Had I been discovered by those who were not loyal to her, I would have been put to death. I could not have you witness such a thing and I was afraid for you.”

We came to a door inlaid with ornate silver panels. My father knocked twice. “I have always loved you, daughter. Never forget that. Everything I have done, I have done for you.” With that he placed his hands on my shoulders and kissed my cheek.

He left me as the door swung open. Soft music drifted from the room along with the rich aroma of food. The walls were sheets of gold and silver. A mural of battles, warriors in shining armor, and fire in their hands had been painted on the ceiling.

Two hounds sat on either side of a massive hearth, which blazed bright and hot. They watched me with their eerie red eyes and white ears alert. Placed in front of the fire was a large, gilded chair where the King of Annwn presided, his legs sprawled out in front of him, his elbow propped on the arm, and his head titled, resting on his finger tips. He tapped one finger methodically against his temple as he stared into the fire deep in thought.

Dressed in a deep blue tunic and leggings, he made a striking figure. A gold band encircled his wrist and his long, blond hair flowed freely over his shoulder.

“Sit.” He waved a hand toward a long, polished table in the center of the room.

I didn’t move and neither did he. Finally, he rose from the chair.

His eyes swept leisurely over the gown, and my pulse quickened. Why did heat leap into my cheeks? I didn’t care for him, not like I cared for Balen, and yet I could not deny there was something…

He said nothing about my appearance. His hand rested on the back of the chair. “Did you enjoy your visit with Balen?” he asked, studying me intently.

“No. Why do you make him suffer?”

“He made me suffer.”

“Now you sound like a child.” He’d called me a child in the courtyard, but I had forgotten about it until the words rushed out of my mouth.

Tense silence filled the room.

“Then it is agreed,” Nox commented easily. “We both behave like children. Please sit.”

He pulled out a chair near the head of the table. I sat stiffly, trying to calm my racing heart and curb my tongue. Nox settled at the head of the table and waited as servants placed our meals before us. After the wine was poured and left for us on the table, he excused them.

Their presence had created a kind of barrier between us, but now the silence was stark. I wished them back as I nervously downed half my wine. The fire popped and crackled. Sparks shot into the air. The hounds never even blinked.

Nox gestured for me to eat as he placed a bite into his mouth. “You haven’t eaten since you entered the forest, Deira…”

My gut twisted at his words. I hadn’t eaten since the quick meal of bread and cheese Balen and I had had on our way to Cathair Crofin. I was hungry. Painfully hungry, and as much as I didn’t like being there, I needed to eat. The roasted fowl tasted wonderful. It felt wrong that I liked it, but I kept eating.

“Are you like them, Deira?” Nox asked at length. “Do you despise me, condemn me before you even know who I am? Would you be so angry with Balen for chaining me to the stone?”

I swallowed my bite and took a moment to form my words. “He told me what he did to you. I know there are rules in battle, especially when it comes to nobility. No one of your station should have been treated that way.”

“Do you know how long I stayed chained to the stone?”

I shook my head, not wanting to know.

“Three hundred years,” he answered to my astonishment. “Should Balen receive the same sentence, you think?”

“You have given me your geás,” I reminded him carefully.

“Ah. That I have.” He saluted me with his wine glass then took a long drink.

“Will you let Innis Fail die?”

Nox shrugged. “Depends.”

“Could you restore the Lia Fail to our world?”

He eyed me thoughtfully. “Now why would I want to do that? Restoring the Light means restoring power to my enemies. They’re becoming so weak now. Soon it will be easy to take control. You believe the Light still exists then?”

“I don’t believe I’d be here if it didn’t.”

“Because you’re the Light Bearer.” He sat back with cold satisfaction. “A lie. You’re here because I brought you here. Balen has staked his life on a foretelling that never existed. Ironic is it not? The entire House of Sydhr believed the words of Balen’s mother. Granted, she was a gifted oracle, but not so gifted to see the words in her head as mine and not those of her god.”

His words sank in and I knew they were true. I knew.

He’d entered her mind just as he’d entered mine. Shaken, I set my fork down.

Balen had sacrificed everything on the chance that Innis Fail could be saved, placing all his hopes on me, someone who was not, as it turned out, special in any regard. I’d never wanted the responsibility of bearing the Lia Fail home, but somewhere along the way I’d accepted what I was. And now I was…