She did not want to hear from Unseelie. But if she wanted to know the answer to her question, she didn’t have another choice.
“I want to talk to you about the Namhaid,” she finally whispered, fists clenched and trembling.
“The Namhaid,” Unseelie purred, his breath rustling the hair on the back of her neck. Frowning, she whirled toward him, but found nothing but air. “Why have you come here to ask about my faithful servant?”
“I want to know who it is.”
“Ah.” Unseelie chuckled. “That I cannot tell you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Why not?”
“There are events that must come to pass through the natural order of things. The gods have interfered as much as we can. From now on, it is up to the Fomorians, the Humans, and the Fae. You will decide the winner and the loser of this battle.”
“Thehumans?” Eislyn asked, taken aback. “What have they got to do with anything?”
“All three of your species are linked in an inexplicable way.” Unseelie cleared his throat. “All of those words were Seelie’s, by the way. Sometimes, he allows me to speak for him.”
“None of this makes any sense.” Eislyn threw up her hands. “You’re the god of darkness and death. He’s the god of life and light. You’re at odds. Don’t you hate each other? Aren’t you at war? But you live in the same hole in the ground and you speak for each other? I don’t understand.”
“It is the way things are,” Unseelie said, his shadows rustling by her once more. “Without light, there is no darkness. Without darkness, there is no light. At least that is how it is right now.”
Eislyn huffed. “The humans don’t even have anything to do with this. They’re half a world away, doing their human stuff. Does that mean…?” An idea sparked in her mind. “Does that mean the Namhaid hasn’t come into the world yet?”
Perhaps the Namhaid was a threat for another time, something future fae would have to face. The Cleaving of the World would not come for centuries yet. For now, they could all go back to worrying about easy things, like bloody battles and backstabbing power plays.
She could write a book, warning them. Everything she’d learned, she’d compile and form a decent plan for the future. Perhaps, she could leave behind a task to her children and her children after that. In time, they might be ready for it.
“The Namhaid is alive and well and spreading chaos in Tir Na Nog,” Unseelie said, cutting through her hopeful thoughts.
Eislyn sucked in a sharp breath. “What kind of chaos?”
Unseelie chuckled. “You are clever, Eislyn Darragh. You hope that if I speak of the Namhaid’s deeds, you’ll be able to puzzle out the fae’s identity. I will not give you that. You must work it out yourself.”
“So, I’ve come here for nothing.” Frustration burned through her. “What help are gods if they can’t even give people knowledge of what’s to come.”
Hot wind blew Eislyn’s hair back from her face. “We gave knowledge once. That is all we can do. Anything more, and the words will turn to ash in my mouth.”
“At least tell me if it’s me,” she said, stepping toward the pool. “If I don’t go back to the Fomorians with an answer, they’ll kill me. Am I the Namhaid or am I the Ghaisgeach?”
“Hmm.” Unseelie fell silent. The echoes of whispered words pounded against her ears, but she couldn’t quite catch what they were. It sounded like another language. Like Fomorian, but just not quite. Finally, the wind rustled her cloak as Unseelie’s attention zeroed back in on her.
“You are not the Namhaid, but you already knew that.”
“And the Ghaisgeach?”
“You will know who the Ghaisgeach is when the time comes.”
Her heart pounded. “How do I know you’re not lying?”
“The gods do not lie.”
“Your servants do,” she argued.
“I am not my servants.” A sigh. “This is growing tiresome. Let us turn our attention onto something much more entertaining. Would you like to make a deal for power?”
Eislyn blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“Step up to the pool,” Unseelie commanded.
