38. Taryn

THIRTY-EIGHT

TARYN

My body is overtaken by hysterical laughter, except the tears in my lash lines suggest I don’t find this to be all that funny. Every pair of eyes is glued to me like I’m a ticking bomb about to go off. And, honestly, with the hurricane of emotions blowing through me right now, that’s a fair assumption.

Finn moves next to me and envelops one of my hands in his, grounding me enough to speak again. “That’s not possible. Unless I’m mistaken, you’re still very much alive.”

“It is most unusual, I agree,” Aine says, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. “But we cannot pretend to know the minds of the gods and why they do things.”

I keep expecting someone to say just kidding or April Fools or you’ve just been punked or whatever the hell else people say when they play jokes on others. But the only thing I hear is utter silence, and it’s the most sobering sound I’ve ever heard.

Afraid I already know the answer, I force myself to rasp out the simple question, “When?”

“The day of your 122nd birthday. You are not a Mystic, Taryn, or if you are, you are not only that. You lost control that day because the Power was too much for one as young as you.”

“Sweet baby Brigid, this is so fucked.” Rubbing at the headache forming above my brows, I try to make sense of everything with little success. Then I realize something that sends chills down my back. “Edevane. Does this mean he has the One True Power, too?”

“Not in the way it matters.” Opening her hand, she forms the image of a Firethorn Blossom, similar in appearance to a Dahlia with dozens of petals. “You are in possession of the Power the same as if you possessed this flower. Siphoning your blood has given him a few of its petals, but it is a mere fraction of the whole, which still resides with you.”

I exhale in relief. “Thank Brigid. I mean, he can still take it by killing me, so that part’s not great, but I’m choosing to ignore that at the moment.”

The determined expression on Finn’s face says he’s doing no such thing. “If the gods made it so that the Power can be transferred without the need for death, how does Taryn get rid of it before she becomes Edevane’s target?”

Aine gives him a cool look. “I did not say it no longer requires death. I believe it still does. I did not intentionally give my daughter the Power. I would never have endangered her in that manner.”

I scoff and murmur, “More like she would never intentionally give up her position as OTQ.”

The room is deafeningly silent. Then Finn goes into triage mode, eyeing the rest of our group. “Let’s give them the room.”

Everyone turns to leave, but I grab onto Finn’s arm like I’ll drown if he leaves my side right now. “Not you. Please,” I plead in a whisper.

He places his hand over mine. “Whatever you need, solnyshko ,” he replies softly.

Once the others leave and close the door behind them, Aine gestures for us to move to the small sitting area where four plush armchairs face each other. My mother lowers herself to one and Finn and I take up the ones opposite her.

For several minutes that feel like an eternity, we remain awkwardly silent, neither of us knowing where to start.

Finally, she sighs and places her laced fingers in her lap. “You think I cared nothing for you, Taryn, but I loved you more than you know. Something you’ll understand someday when you have children of your own.”

Her eyes flick to Finn briefly, letting me know she’s aware of the trajectory of our relationship. The thought of having children with Finn spreads warmth in my chest. “I would never treat my children with cold and indifference like you did me.”

She sucks her cheeks in and takes a breath as though she’s doing her best not to get defensive, which is exactly what I expect her to do based on our history.

“Your father was the warm one. I was not as…good…at showing my love,” she admits finally, shocking me to my core.

“Garyth grounded me, though. What little warmth I did have was because of him. When he left us, it broke my heart.” She pauses briefly for another visible collecting of her emotions. “I know you resented me for keeping you here while Devlyn fought in the war, but after losing Garyth, the possibility of losing you both was too great. So, I forbade you to go and prayed to Brigid for Devlyn’s safe return.”

“You think I wasn’t scared to death of losing him, too?” I say, my tone sharp. “It’s why I wanted to go, to help keep him safe. You knew I was every bit the trained warrior he was.”

“I did. However, I let my grief and fear rule me. I reasoned that one child was better than none. But when I read Devlyn’s name that day, despite my best efforts, none was exactly what I had. I saw it in your eyes, you were as lost to me as your father and brother were.

“My heart, cool as it was, was not indestructible. And regardless that it beats inside my chest to this day, that is the moment it was no more.” She swallows hard against the lump in her throat that mirrors mine. “Apparently, an emotional death was enough for the gods.”

“And I was the one who killed you,” I whisper in realization. “That’s why the Power transferred to me.”

My mother does me the courtesy of not affirming it out loud, but she doesn’t have to. I broke what was left of her heart when I swore I’d never forgive her.

A million things run through my mind all at once. The fact that I might not even be a Mystic, that the power I’ve been unable to control until very recently is so much bigger than I thought.

A small part of me is soothed knowing I never could have circumvented the events of that day in the throne room. It doesn’t alleviate my guilt, but I never stood a chance at containing the strongest magic in the realm so young.

However, there’s another part of me that’s freaking out even more, because strongest magic in the realm . I thought this past week I was practicing to control Mystic powers, which are impressive enough.

But to realize I have the same power inside me that my mother used to magically POOF two entire courts of fae into the human world with the snap of her fingers is more than a little terrifying. What the hell am I capable of? I’m afraid to find out.

“Why did you leave Faerie, Taryn? I expected you to leave the palace. The city, even. But how could you leave all this behind?”

I assume “all this” means the beauty and magic of our fae realm, but those things weren’t even on my mind that night. “How could I leave ? Mother, how could I have stayed ? Justifiable causation or not, when I set fire to the throne room, I killed our people . When I realized what I’d done I didn’t think I could live with myself.”

A shudder runs through me as I remember the only two options I felt I had after waking up in my room. The words grate over my tongue as I confess it out loud for the first time. “Leaving Faerie was the less fatal choice I made that day.”

Finn’s hand squeezes mine, almost uncomfortably so, and I know it’s because of what he just heard.

Aine’s eyes widen briefly as she registers my meaning. Then she frowns, her brows knitted in confusion. “Daughter, you did not kill anyone that day.”

My heart stops beating. Time stands still. I’m in an alternate dimension. I can’t have heard her right. “I…didn’t?” I manage to eke out.

“No, child.” Aine’s tone loses its sharp edge for the first time since my return. She may as well have pulled me into her embrace and rocked me while stroking my hair.

“But they were screaming, they were caught in my fire, I know they were.”

She cants her head to the side as though seeing me in a new light. As though finally understanding me. “It is true that many were injured—some badly so—but all recovered, either on their own or with the aid of our healers. No one perished that day, Taryn.”

A profound sense of relief floods through me, untangling the knotted tension in my chest. The unbearable weight of guilt I’ve carried for so long begins to lift, and I draw in a deep, steadying breath. Tears well up again, but this time from overwhelming relief rather than pain.

“Had you not bolted immediately upon awakening, I would have explained that to you, and we could have avoided this whole mess,” she tacks on.

“There it is,” I mutter.

That’s the passive-aggressive mother I remember so well. Finn clears his throat to get my attention, then glances down at our hands where I’m doing the excessive squeezing this time. I force myself to relax my grip but give him a strained smile that says, Sorry, but do you see what I’m dealing with here?

His return look says, This is an olive branch moment for her. She might have the emotional intelligence of a toddler, and I don’t blame you for being upset—in fact, I’m upset right along with you, and we can smack-talk later about her—but right now you need to do your own olive branch-extending. But also, you are the most amazing daughter ever, and she’s lucky to have you.

Okay, so I might be projecting some of that, but I’m pretty confident in my interpretation.

Composing myself with a few deep breaths, I mentally count to ten, then give her the one thing that will hopefully bring her a small amount of peace. “Dad didn’t leave us. Not like how you thought, anyway.”

Her hands briefly tighten on the arms of the chair, then she relaxes them and lifts her chin a touch higher, locking her emotions down in true Aine fashion. “Go on.”

“Did you know that he was a seer?”

“Of course. He was my mate.” But her insistence sounds off to me, so I wait a beat for her to say more. “He never specifically said, but I suspected as much. That was not a testament to our bond,” she adds quickly. “Seers rarely reveal themselves to anyone, even their mates.”

I give her an understanding smile. “I know. It was the same with Finn’s grandmother, Moira. No one knew she and Dad were friends because of the secrecy around their specialty.

“They both had visions of the Light King trying to usurp your title using Lugh’s spear, so they put plans into motion to try and change that. To protect you and all of Faerie. And part of those plans meant he had to leave us. But it was the hardest thing he ever had to do.”

She looks to Finn for confirmation, and he nods. “It’s true, Your Majesty. I have Moira’s journal detailing everything, including how she entered into a fake affair with Cormac in order to steal the spear, hoping that would change the visions.”

We take turns filling her in on what Moira and my father did with their friend Barwyn, the lengths they went to in an attempt to alter the future, including the solved mystery of why my Armas is made of Luna instead of Ember. When we get to the end of our fantastical tale, I take over.

“The lost sire guarding the spear was Dad, but by the time we got there, Edevane had found it and used it to kill him,” I say with fresh tears spilling onto my cheeks. “We had just enough time for him to give his memories to Finn and for me to say goodbye.”

Aine’s chin trembles, the rigid mask of stoicism cracking under the weight of our revelation. Her eyes glisten as she processes the truth about her mate’s sacrifice.

“My Garyth,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “All this time, I thought he abandoned us. I should have had more faith in him than that, but I could not see past my own pain.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t exactly fault you on that one.”

Finn squeezes my shoulder gently, offering his silent support. “Garyth loved you both and Devlyn fiercely. In his final moments, he did what he could to make sure you knew that.”

Aine takes a deep breath, her eyes closing momentarily as she gathers herself. When she opens them again, a new resolve shines through the grief.

“We must do everything we can to ensure the sacrifices made by our loved ones were not in vain. The Light King must be stopped.”

“Way ahead of you on that one,” I say, because snark is my default setting with my mom. Something I’ll have to work at, probably in therapy, but that’s a Future Me problem. Thankfully, Finn rolls right over it so we don’t get stuck in our old patterns.

“Your Majesty, do I presume correctly that you losing the Power isn’t common knowledge among your people?”

“You are correct. Cathal is the only one who knows that my only magic is my court-born power and my abilities as a conjurer. Pathetically paltry compared to what they once were.”

“Good. I’ll let the others know that the information doesn’t leave this room. Edevane knows something’s up with your magic because he’s been coming and going from Faerie undetected. But he must still believe you have the Power, or he wouldn’t be targeting you.”

Then he looks at me, his expression pre-apologetic for whatever he’s about to say that could ruffle my feathers. “But we should come up with a new battle plan that doesn’t involve you.”

Consider my feathers fucking ruffled.

“Absolutely not, Verran. Don’t even think about benching me for this. Even with my limited abilities, I’m an asset to the team. Edevane’s not going to target what he thinks is a dysfunctional Mystic, and like you said, his goal will be getting through us to get to my mother.”

“Taryn—”

Aine stands, her regal disposition once again firmly in place. “This is where I take my leave, as I have never alleged to understand the logistics of war.”

As she glides her way across the room, the door opens on its own with her lesser magic in preparation for her dramatic exit. But when she reaches the threshold, she pauses to turn back and share an afterthought.

“If I were to offer you a piece of advice, Prince Finnian, it is this: telling my daughter she cannot fight alongside those she loves never ends well.”