A handful of minutes. Has Priya asked the Cauldron how—how . . .The poor man sounds sick to his stomach.
As Fallon collects a dozen kisses on her cheeks and forehead, I ask the Shabbin Queen, “How will we go about freeing Zendaya? Must she drink a goblet of your blood before being submerged inside the Cauldron?” My tongue tingles as I recall the sweet, metallic tang of Mórrígan’s blood.
“The Cauldron has asked me to drip my blood inside ofit, and not inside of her. Like you, though, she will be submerged, and either she will be returned to us in scales, or she will rise in skin. Unfortunately, only the Cauldron knows how much—” Priya lowers her face toward the wondrous source of magic that made me into the man I am today. “How much of her is left.”
Fallon steps toward Agrippina and locks her arms around her reedy shoulders. Though Agrippina stands straight as a fence post and doesn’t embrace Fallon back, my mate keeps her arms curled around the redhead. It’s painful seeing Justus’s girl like this, for Agrippina was once so full of vigor and passion. Much like the woman who entrusted her with her most cherished possession . . . now mine.
I meet Justus’s stare, and I incline my head toward the Faerie who’s proven himself a man of great valor and loyalty. “Do you think the Cauldron can do something about Agrippina Rossi’s mind?”
“Perhaps, but Zendaya’s curse will deplete the Cauldron for a while. In all honesty, it could take weeks before we can get around to breaking your obsidian curse, Lore. Are you certain you don’t wish to start with your own?”
“Yes. I’m certain.”
Though he’d surely chew my ear off if he heard I picked his needs over our people’s, Cathal is barely hanging on. Especially with Cian gone. I will not subject him to any more delays.
As I think of my departed brother and then of the one bursting with nerves, I watch Fallon, and the sight of her steadies my pulse. She hugs Justus, which leads Ceres to palm her chest, clearly surprised by the intractable bond Meriam has braided between Fallon and her former husband.
So?Cathal’s query calls my attention away from the Rossi clan.
Priya says you’ll need to drop her inside the Cauldron,I say as Fallon finally strolls back toward me, smearing her black stripes.
I hold out my hand, some more of my tension lifting when her fingers coil around mine.Did you hear me, Cathal?
I heard you.
Are you ready?
No. I’m not ready.
As Fallon thumbs her cheekbones to adjust her runny stripes, I ask,Is Daya ready?
I hope so.
“They’re ready, Priya.”
Fallon’s shoulders jerk back, and her violet eyes knock into my yellow ones.My parents?
I nod as Priya sidesteps us and kneels at the Cauldron’s edge to drip blood onto the glassy surface. Hand still in mine, Fallon spins.
Let it work. Let it work. Let it work,I catch my mate chanting into her mind, her body trembling so hard that it flutters every satin vane on her dress. How I wish I could reassure her, but giving her false hope would be cruel.
Lore, should I fly?Cathal’s voice blisters my temples.
I’m waiting for Priya’s signal, brother.
An eternity trickles by before Priya stands. “The Cauldron is ready to receive her.”
Now, Cathal.
A loud hiss resounds through the Vale as Cathal comes soaring over the palace, the cursed body of his mate writhing between his talons. If my heart weren’t suspended like Fallon’s breath, I may have gotten a kick at how Daya is attempting to gore my friend with her tusk, but I’m too fretful to so much as smile.
When he levels off over the Cauldron, Daya’s obsidian gaze jolts over the crowd. Fallon hiccups a muted sob that carries the beast’s stare to her. Only then, does Daya calm.
I’m aware Fallon and the serpent forged a bond over the years, nevertheless, I yearn that her abrupt tranquility means that beneath her scales subsists the mother who loved her unborn child with every beat of her Shabbin heart.
When Cathal’s talons unclasp, when Daya’s body sinks into the Cauldron that swallows her whole, my wild-eyed brother streaks toward Fallon and morphs into skin.
My mate slips away from me to wind her arm around Cathal’s hunched spine. His lips shape Daya’s name along with a prayer before they press into Fallon’s hair and remain there until the Cauldron’s surface shivers and color reappears.
