Gritting her teeth, Reyna focused on the clouds, pulling with all her might. Her breathing grew ragged; sweat beaded on her brow. The wind suddenly whipped toward her and slammed into her shoulder. Pain ricocheted through her body like an arrow. A scream ripped from her raw throat, but she stood her ground.
Shetuggedat the wind, welcoming it inside of her.
A cloud of ash hit her square in the face. It stung her eyes, blinding her momentarily. The black flecks clung to her skin, and then they melted against her. The Ruin filled her flesh and her veins, and suddenly, a new strength rushed through her.
She sucked in a lungful of ashen air andpulledagain with her mind, her body, and her soul. More Ruin whipped toward her and away from the wood fae cowering behind the icy wall. The ash surrounded her like a tornado, spinning in vicious circles as it tried to rip free of her grip on it.
She tugged again, screaming and dropping to her knees from the sheer, unbridled effort of it all. Her wound was throbbing now with so much torment that she could barely think around it. Her head had gone numb, and tears or blood or both streaked down her face.
The ash consumed her as she consumed the ash. It was everything around her, so thick that it formed a blanket over her trembling body. Another scream clawed its way up her throat, ripping free from her in a violent release of sound. She dug her fingers into the ground like claws. She drew strength from the feel of the dirt beneath her hands.
And then she yanked at the Ruin with all the strength left in her broken body.
It flew into her. Ash poured into her open mouth, filled her nostrils, and crawled into her eyes. It sank into her skin, filled her veins, and stormed through her stomach. It pushed its way into her throbbing heart, spreading out to her every limb, her every toe, her every finger.
Silence fell like a hammer on the courtyard. Reyna gasped for breath, heaving as she curled over the ground. Everything hurt, even as her body buzzed with new life. Electricity crackled through her veins, sparking as it collided with her new Seelie magic.
It’s over, she thought, sagging, or had she whispered it out loud? She could scarcely even remember where she was, let alone hear anything other than the echo of her painful screams as the Ruin had stormed inside of her.
With a deep and shuddering breath, she pushed up from the ground and leaned back on her heels. It was over. It was done. She had faced down the Ruin, and she’d won.
Her relief was so overwhelming that she almost tumbled face-first into the dirt.
It is not over, a voice suddenly whispered into her mind.
She straightened, alarm slicing through her like a knife.
This is the beginning of everything they feared, the same voice spoke.
Her heart thundered. Was this Unseelie? Had he followed her from the pits only to taunt her here? But no. This voice was nothing like the chilling, dark tone of Unseelie. This was something else. Something...sad.
Suddenly, a barrage of images flashed through her mind. She cried out, holding her throbbing head as a whirlwind of sensations crashed into her. The image of a silver princess standing on a blackened hill, a snow owl perched on her shoulder. Another flash. Another image. Ash pouring down from a dark sky.
The images continued to flash, growing darker with every passing one. Blood and destruction. Death and gore. Tir Na Nog gone. And then a sea...a new land, one inhabited by giant fae with gold-tipped black wings. The Fomorians on majestic horses cresting a hill backlit by a brilliant, blazing sun.
And then darkness. More blood. And then a princess on a throne, commanding an army of twisted, shattered minds.
The images stopped. Reyna’s mind went black. Slowly, she opened her eyes to stare down at the charred soil. Her heart thrummed an uneasy beat. Tears of horror left wet trails down her cheeks.
She could not explain how she understood what she saw, but she did. The Ruin, perhaps, filling her mind with everything it knew about the world. And what would come of it. She shook as understanding gave way to a horrible, aching regret.
Reyna had made aterriblemistake.
“You are not called the Ruin,” she whispered to the thing inside of her.
No.
It was theDionadair, just as Unseelie had said. But he had never explained what that meant. He’d never translated from the ancient language of the Fomorians. Eislyn might have known, from all her studying and reading ancient texts, but Reyna didn’t. Not until now.
Protector.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
The Dagda created me, the voice said softly,when he first arrived in Tir Na Nog through the portal in Cinder Ridge. He saw a vision in the birthplace of the gods. It spoke of an ice princess, one who would one day draw upon the might of Unseelie and destroy this world, beginning with Tir Na Nog.
A hot ache clogged Reyna’s throat.
“And I am that princess,” she whispered, eyes burning.
