Study of Death and Magic (Sons of Sídhetír #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

“Father says I’m to be the Lord of Sídhetír one day, when I’m old enough. I don’t want to be. It sounds horrid.” – from Oren Byrne’s diary, age seven.

“What in God’s name is that?” I asked when I exited Byrne Manor, where I’d lived the whole of my life. The crisp winter air turned my breath into a cloud and sent shivers down my spine, and snow blanketed the grounds, though the paths through the gardens had been cleared.

Aidan, my elder brother and the Lord of Sídhetír, stood in front of a fountain that hadn’t been there the day before.

It was expansive, taking up a considerable amount of space in the courtyard, and it wasn’t quite centered, which accounted for Aidan’s twitching eyebrow.

A stone dragon sat in the middle of the fountain, so lifelike, I almost expected it to spew fire.

But instead of flames, steaming golden water poured out of its gaping maw.

“Carridwen,” Aidan growled, shoving a hand through his short red locks.

“I didn’t realize it came with a name,” I quipped.

He threw me a look that stated how unimpressed he was with my attempt at humor, and I merely smiled back at him, but a curl of unease twisted my stomach. Rarely was Aidan cross with me, and unlike usual, I couldn’t read his expression to ascertain his emotional state.

Aidan and I were more than brothers; we were best friends. I’d spent my entire life right beside him, and I knew every one of his looks and mannerisms. But that had changed. The last three months had changed everything from myself to Aidan to the very foundation of our relationship.

Now I was standing on shaky ground, and I quite detested it, but I was unsure of how to change it.

“I take it Princess Carridwen is responsible?” I asked, rubbing my hands together to ward off the pressing chill.

Aidan just nodded.

Crown Princess Carridwen of the Night Court, who was an old and terrifying dark fae, though I’d only briefly met her, was Aidan’s sister-in-law.

My eyes ran over the massive fountain, spitting steaming golden water all over the place.

Apparently, she’d “gifted” something rather unusual to him and Cethin for their wedding—or mating in fae culture—though the wedding had been three months ago.

Somehow I doubted this was actually a gift.

Fae were rather mischievous, and I thought this “gift” was truly a prank to bother Aidan.

It was working, if my brother’s scowl meant anything, though that might more be due to the ostentatious dragon and swirling embellishments along the basin of the fountain.

Or this could all be because the fountain was decidedly two inches from the center of the courtyard.

It could be several things, but I would firmly declare that Princess Carridwen had succeeded in annoying Aidan.

A dark fae gathered Aidan close, interrupting my thoughts.

Cethin, Aidan’s husband, stared at the fountain impassively with his coal-black eyes.

His sharp features, gray skin with a purple undertone, and lean yet muscular frame were all characteristic of the dark fae, which was to be expected from its prince.

His long white hair hung around his muscular shoulders and fell to his trim waist. He wore inappropriately tight black trousers that clung to his thick legs, and a black shirt that exposed far too much skin, forcing me to look away or be subjected to my brother-in-law’s form.

I had asked Aidan, repeatedly, if Cethin might possibly be persuaded to wear more appropriate attire, so we weren’t subjected to miles of his skin daily. Aidan had simply scoffed in response. He couldn’t make Cethin do anything he didn’t want to do.

Lord Abnus had worn proper clothing.

I swallowed at the thought of the elusive dark fae, cousin to Cethin, a blush heating up my cheeks.

I’d gotten to know him when he’d come to represent the Night Court, back when I was the heir and before my world had turned on its head.

But he’d left shortly after Aidan became lord, only returning briefly for Aidan and Cethin’s wedding.

Lord Abnus was in the fae realm, and I wished he’d come back.

We’d grown close in our short acquaintance, discussing things as benign as our favorite colors and as serious as my hopes and dreams. He’d always had time for me and never seemed to grow bored of whatever it was I desired to talk about.

In fact, he would probe for more information.

I was never able to give him enough detail about my life or past. Lord Abnus acted as he craved to know everything about me, and I’d been more than glad to supply that information.

A bird chittered as it landed near the steaming water. It lowered to take a drink, and the moment it did, its dull brown feathers became a striking gold color that glinted in the sunlight.

“Fuck,” Aidan swore, and I raised my eyebrows.

He was lucky Mother hadn’t overheard him.

She didn’t abide us swearing in polite company.

Though, with a quick glance around at the empty courtyard, I was easily assured that we weren’t in polite company.

We were quite alone. Somehow, I didn’t think it would matter all that much to Mother.

She was a stickler for rules. Lord or not, she would correct his behavior as she saw fit.

“It’s not like I don’t have enough tasks to be getting on with. Every day, Jonathan gives me something new, and now this,” Aidan snapped, shoving a hand through his tousled hair.

Guilt landed like a stone in my stomach, making me look at the cold ground beneath my feet.

I’d been raised to be Lord of Sídhetír, but four months ago, we’d learned of our father’s lies.

Aidan was actually my brother, not the Byrne ward but our father’s illegitimate son with the light fae Vis.

Aidan was the true seventh son—the true Lord of Sídhetír, so only he could bind himself to the magical contract with the land and the gate to the fae realm.

I’d trained my entire life to take the heavy mantle that was now forced upon Aidan’s shoulders. He wasn’t buckling under the strain; in fact, he’d excelled at the challenge, though he was quieter, his gaze harder, and his thoughts far from us more often than I would like.

And I was going to abandon him come spring.

All my life, I’d dreamed of going to Wellington University in the capital.

I’d wanted to be the same as all of my elder brothers, except Aidan, and study within the hallowed walls of serious academia.

I wanted to study literature, poetry, and the great classics.

It was my passion. Now no longer bound to my father’s lies that kept me within Sídhetír’s grasp, I could, and I planned to.

However, the guilt remained. Perhaps I should stay here to help Aidan? He’d protected me my whole life; it was the least that I could do.

Under the guilt was another emotion. It was burning hot and coiling. I didn’t understand it, nor did I wish to examine the darkness closely. No, I would ignore it, even when it flared to life at times when I looked at Aidan.

Aidan took a deep breath, his expression smoothing into a peaceful one that was like a knife to my heart. What was I thinking? Aidan didn’t need me. No one did. I was useless—the eighth child when Father only needed seven to continue the magical contract.

“In the grand scheme of things, it hardly matters,” Aidan said in a prim voice. “I shall contemplate how to get rid of this…”

“It’s merely a prank, Aidan,” Cethin said, his low voice, confirming my suspicion.

He kissed Aidan’s neck, and I yanked my gaze away, blushing.

They had no concept of privacy or propriety.

“It means Carridwen and Enah accept you as their equal, which they have never done with any of the other Lords of Sídhetír.”

Enah was the Crown Princess of the Day Court. The light fae wasn’t someone I’d ever had the honor of meeting, but it was safe to assume that she was as old, deadly, and terrifying as her Night Court counterpart.

Aidan scoffed. “I’m the first mongrel to be lord.”

Cethin growled before I could comment on Aidan’s word choice. In a rough voice, Cethin said, “Do not call yourself that, dearest. You may be half-fae, but there is nothing wrong with it, and I am grateful for your mixed blood.”

Aidan’s mother had been a common light fae, much to mine and Aidan’s shock, though the rest of our brothers had known almost from the beginning. Still, even months later, it rankled, not that I’d said as much to any of them. But how could they keep such a secret from Aidan and I?

All he said was, “I will have to remove the fountain before it turns all of the wildlife gold.”

“Be careful,” I interjected, making Aidan smile.

“All will be well.”

It was the truth, as Aidan saw it at least, for he couldn’t lie. Not all half-fae were bound by the weakness of their full-fledged counterparts—an inability to touch iron or to lie—but Aidan had inherited one of those weaknesses.

His words did nothing to assuage the fear coursing like ice through my veins.

I’d seen firsthand what had happened when Aidan had delved too deep into Sídhetír’s embrace.

Everything that had made my brother, my closest friend, who he was had vanished, leaving behind an ancient, powerful entity in his place.

Seeing the uncaring eyes looking out of my brother’s light green gaze had terrified me to my core, and I never wished to see it again.

Cethin glanced toward me, and I couldn’t contain the shudder that went through me.

His pure black eyes, with no differentiation between his pupils and irises, unnerved me.

Though if I was forced to admit it, Cethin himself frightened me to some extent, but Aidan loved him, which was truly all that mattered in the end. I supposed.

“I will protect him, brother of my mate,” he said, and that I believed. Cethin was nothing if not devout in his all-consuming love, which teetered on obsession with my brother.