And second, no family in the history of the Otherworld was as prolific as the Áines.
We’re halfway down the third tunnel and have already passed at least two hundred dearly departed relatives. Theirlikenesses grace their final resting places, though not everyone has been granted a statue; some only have friezes on the lids of their sarcophagi. There’s a distinct pattern to who gets which kind of immortal memorial.
All the men have statues. Of the women, I’ve seen only three. Out of two hundred.
I am annoyed, but not surprised. And I can practically hear Granny Maggie grumble something about the fragility of the male ego.
“Still nothing?” Lachlan whispers, the stardrop bobbing in his palm.
Chittering echoes from far behind us, followed by the insectile hum of wings. Vesper abandoned us about twenty tombs ago, but in her way, she’s letting me know she’s still here.
“Nothing,” I answer Lachlan, dejected. I suppose it was foolish to think that finding the other fragments would be as easy as finding Desmond’s. I twirl the cool metal around my finger. “If anything, the ring’s getting colder.”
I pause in front of the next tomb, whose statue is the only one I’ve seen depicting two people. Even rarer, they are both women.
The shorter must be a knight, in full dress armour similar to what Lachlan sometimes wears. She’s mid-snarl, terrifying, and the tip of her broadsword menaces the viewer at face-level. Like she’d run you through if you so much as looked wrong at the tall woman delicately clinging to her shoulder. And though the tall woman’s grip is light, her face is imperious. Commanding.
Quite the departure from the bland, stately representations of the men I’ve been glaring at all evening. The fierce protectiveness of the pose, not to mention the possessive curl of the tall woman’s fingers on her lady-knight’s pauldron, suggests the two women may have been in love with one another.
“Alanthe Áine and Sir Melloway, her secret lover and chief executioner.” Lachlan ambles up behind me. “Together, they were known as the Scourge of Tír na Lune.”
“That sounds like a story I need to hear.”
“It’s a thrilling one. With an appropriately tragic ending. Alanthe wanted to be the first faerie queen of the celestial Otherworld. Didn’t understand why only dukes were allowed to hunt the human quarries and win the crown. She was an only child, but since she was a woman, the Áine dukeship was going to pass to a male cousin while her father married her off to the son of one of the other Houses. She persuaded him to reconsider.”
“How?”
“By sneaking Sir Melloway and a handful of her loyal knights into the castle during the Samhain feast and slaughtering everyone in attendance. Her father included.”
I cluck my tongue. “Love an ambitious woman.”
Lachlan snickers. “She declared herself Queen of Tír na Lune—a title which had never before and has never since existed—and held the castle for several months against a siege from the other territories.”
I study the two fierce women, wishing to possess even a tenth the conviction and courage such a feat must have required.
“The celestial kingdom would look very different today had she succeeded,” Lachlan says quietly.
“Why didn’t she?”
“Sir Melloway was badly wounded during an attack, and there were no healers within the castle capable of saving her. Alanthe surrendered in order to save her lady love.”
“And was she saved?”
“For a short time.” The tightness in Lachlan’s voice makes me dread hearing the rest. “They healed Sir Melloway. Then publiclyexecuted both women for treason. Her cousin carried out the sentence before he took control of House Áine.”
“This was how many generations back?”
“Her cousin was the current duke’s father.”
Anger shortens my breath, stings my eyes. “So, she was branded a traitor because she defied her family’s expectations?”
“Well, she did murder an awful lot of people.”
“Still,” I murmur. “I think she was brave.”
“Yes. And unremorseful. Probably why she was cut down so spectacularly.”
“Brave women often are as soon as they refuse to do what they’re told.” I look up at him with fire in my eyes. “It’s much the same as in my world.”
