She sucked in a lungful of ashen air and pulled again 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 a terrible mistake.
“You are not called the Ruin,” she whispered to the thing inside of her.
No.
It was the Dionadair, 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.
There was a name for her, too. The Namhaid. The enemy.
The Dagda had sent word to the Fomorians across the sea. They had spoken of her in hushed tones for centuries, hoping that the Ruin would stop her, hoping that Unseelie would never get his claws into the fae who would one day kill them all.
And she was that fae. She had to be. Everything fit. Deep, shuddering fear shook through her.
It all made horrible, brutal sense. The Ruin had not begun to destroy her kingdom until she was born, and it had always seemed to strike when she was nearby. It wasn’t all-knowing and it wasn’t all-seeing, and the power of it was so dark and so great that it stormed through the world, destroying everything. It had only one command: kill the ice princess and her owl. It did not care about keeping anyone else alive.
“He accidentally created a monster,” she whispered.
I am not a monster. I am the Dionadair. And now you control me, just as he feared. You will bring destruction to them all. You are the Keeper of Storms.
51
Reyna
Reyna stood, her aching body as bruised and battered as her heart. She scanned Fomorian Square, bracing herself for another onslaught of arrows, not knowing if she would have the strength to dodge this time.
A harsh fire had settled in her chest, burning her up from the inside out. Unseelie had used her. She’d been tricked. He’d wanted her to destroy the Ruin…the Dionadair. She could not bear to think about what she’d done. Not now. She was still in the midst of a battle-ravaged city. Distantly, she could hear the clash of steel on steel. She needed to find Lorcan and help him fight the wood fae…just so long as she could stay standing long enough to swing her blade.
As soon as it was all over, she would press her cheek against his chest and breathe him in. She would tell him everything, at once. He would know what to do, even if there was nothing they could do. This could not be her fate. Together, they would fight against it, tooth and nail.
She needed him, she realized, that painful ache spreading through the rest of her limbs. And nothing would stop them from staying together now. She hadn’t needed to return to the ice lands to find the Ruin. It hadn’t begun in the north at all. It had begun here, in Findius. She clenched her hands, shaking her head. She could not think of the Ruin anymore. Not until she’d found Lorcan.
As she stepped through the broken courtyard, she saw nothing but frozen bodies and piles of ash. The stench of death was overwhelming. The ice wall blocked her path to most of the streets.
She had no idea where to find him. The Ruin had knocked her off course, and she did not know this city well. Taking in a ragged breath to steady her racing heart, she reached deep into her soul for the power that Seelie had bestowed upon her. Instantly, she bumped up against the Dionadair. The powers curled together in a strange, twisting embrace.
Reyna hissed and drew back.
I am not the dark thing inside of you. You are.
She ground her teeth together. “I’m not going to use you,” she said aloud, not even caring how demented she looked to the fae cowering inside the few nearby buildings that had not crumbled beneath the magic of the ash.