53. A LAND OF LORE
Flying was everything I imagined it to be and so much more.
We soared over the vibrant highland hills, down into valleys and glens laden with stones and twisting streams, and alongside waterfalls that poured from cliffs, drenching our faces with their mist.
Remic’s wings were near-silent in flight. I felt the power of them through his chest as his muscles flexed with each movement. Behind us, Silas carried Nivelle, and from the few times I’d glanced over Remic’s shoulder to see if she was tolerating the adventure, she appeared as though she was.
Remic banked left, losing altitude as he did so.
“There.” He jutted his chin toward a grassy clearing amidst several large, jagged boulders. “That’s where we are going.”
A spiraling rock formation sat within the glen. In the center of the spiral, was a large, white stone, perfectly smooth and round, and eerily brighter than all the rest. Remic landed us gently near the outskirts of the swirling formation, with Silas and Nivelle touching down nearby.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“A favorite spot of mine.”
He made his way over to a well-worn boulder and sat against it with such a fluid motion that I knew he’d done it hundreds of times.
“Are these the protective stone circles Vanir was talking about?”
“One of them,” he answered. “This one is different from the others though. That stone”—he pointed to the center of the spiral—“is said to be sacred. Some say it grants wishes if you touch it under a full moon’s light.”
“Have you ever made a wish on it?”
“Once.” He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t prod.
Nivelle stepped closer to the spiral’s opening, then hesitated. “Can I . . .”
“Of course,” Remic said softly.
Light as a feather, she followed the swirling path, taking her time and placing her feet with intention, as if it were a ritual.
Perhaps this place had been used for rituals by the Ancient Fae before. I imagined them filling the space, chanting or singing as they each wound through the stones to make a wish.
Silas took up a seat near Remic, and each of us remained quiet as Nivelle made her way to the white stone and stared down at it. She kneeled, examining the rock thoroughly before she placed her hand on it.
Somewhere in the distance, a howl broke the silence. Nivelle stilled, and Silas straightened, his wings snapping to attention.
Remic remained relaxed. “It’s all right. It’s just a cù-sìth.”
The howl echoed across the land again.
“And what is a cù-sìth?” I asked.
“A magical creature, mostly associated with death.”
Nivelle stood rather quickly. “That means we should leave, right?”
“No. They are not harbingers of death itself, but more of a bad omen. It is a fairly common tradition for fae males to embark on a hunt for one when they reach adulthood. Killing a cù-sìth signifies the conquering of death. They wear the pelts as a show of strength.”
Silas scanned the surrounding land for any sign of said omen. “What do they look like?”
“Like giant wolves, but with unruly black fur, and eyes the color of this very grass.”
My mind immediately went to the strange pelts I had seen on the shoulders of both Vanir’s and Niall’s cloaks—crinkled black fur, thick and untamed, and unlike any animal I’d ever seen or heard of in either realm. “Niall wears a pelt like that on one of his cloaks.”
“He does. He killed the creature with his bare hands and a dagger.”
“No shadowfire?”
“One is not allowed to use magic or their power when killing a cù-sìth in the ritual. It denotes cowardice or weakness.” He followed Silas’s concerned stare out toward the mountains in the distance.
“You will not likely glimpse the creature. They are rather elusive. It is far more likely that you will encounter a wild spirit of the land than a cù-sìth.”
“Aremis once told me that the spirits of the land are evil,” I said.
“Some are. And there are more of those than there are cù-sìths.”
“Where do they come from?”
“No one knows. They have always been here, just like the spirits that already inhabited Neveshir when Torin and the witches arrived. One could assume that is why the Ancient Fae created these protective circles.” He gestured to the formation before us.
“There is still much of the fae’s history that is not known or recorded.
Whatever existed or happened before the Seidrs were written is as good as lost.”
“The spirits on Neveshir are benevolent, though,” Nivelle said as she came to our side. “Don’t you find it strange that the ones in this realm are so different?”
Remic sighed as though he had been pondering that very enigma for his entire life and had yet to arrive at a conclusion.
“One of the many things I’ve come to wonder about over the years.
There is a bit of ancient lore that says the bones of a cù-sìth are the only things capable of killing that which is incorporeal. ”
Silas’s brows pinched. “Its bones can kill spirits?”
“So they say. I’ve never tried it.” He reached across his chest and pulled open a flap of leather that was fastened over his flank.
From it, he withdrew a slender dagger that I’d never seen before.
The hilt was solid black, the metal twisting on itself to form an ornate handle crowned with a red ruby.
The blade itself . . . was white as bone.
“This was made from the bone of a cù-sìth. Niall had one fashioned for each of us from the stockpile he’d kept from his kill.
It was our gift upon becoming part of his Trium. ”
He handed me the weapon, and I was surprised at how light it was in my hand. It was sharper than any blade I’d ever seen. So sharp in fact, that the edge was slightly translucent.
“It’s beautiful.” I twirled it in my grasp, feeling how it cleaved the air without a sound.
“I bet it cuts through flesh like butter.” The moment the words were out of my mouth, I felt everyone’s focus shift to me.
When I looked up, Silas was staring at me like I was a complete stranger who had just shown up and taken a seat where his Dionam had previously been.
Nivelle seemed to be more perplexed by the idea of a knife flaying flesh with such ease.
After her brief assessment, she shifted her focus back to the dagger.
Remic, however, allowed a one-sided grin to surface. He didn’t find the notion off-putting in the slightest. “Should I ever come across a malevolent spirit, I’ll put it to the test,” he mused.
“I hope I’m there to see that,” I said, passing the weapon back to him.
“Perhaps you will be, and if so, I’ll toss it to you to make the kill.”
I grinned, then noticed Silas shift, straightening his back as if he was slightly uncomfortable.
It was the way in which Remic and I spoke that seemed to bother him.
Perhaps it was the easy flow of our conversation, or the understanding we had of each other.
Remic wanted to protect me, but he knew I was perfectly capable on my own too—and he treated me as such.
Not that Silas didn’t, it was just that he and I hadn’t had the time, nor the experiences, to help form that connection yet.
My grin slipped away, and I wiped my hands on my pants, as if it would wipe away any lingering awkwardness. “So, how long do you think the others will be gone for?”
“They’re usually pretty efficient, so I don’t think it will take too long.”
“And they’ll know where to find us?” Silas asked.
“I’m sure Niall will reach out to one of us at some point,” I answered.
“Ah, yes, the mind-walking. I always forget about that.”
A sudden tinge of panic unfurled in my gut, and I lifted my eyes to meet Silas’s.
The thought of Remic knowing Silas and I shared that particular bond made my heart hurt.
I knew how badly Remic wanted for me to be the one he was meant to protect above all others.
He and I already shared a deeper friendship than Silas and me, but still, if I could spare him any further disappointment when it came to who my Dionach actually was, I would.
Silas understood my worry without me having to say a word—I could see it in his eyes. The mind-walking would be something that would stay between him and me.
At the sight of Silas’s slight nod, I relaxed.
“Mind-walking?” Nivelle turned to me and folded her arms. “Is that what Niall did to me?”
“Did you hear his voice in your head?”
“Yes, at the trial. He told me to ‘relax’ while he explained who I was to the court.”
I raised a brow, fighting a grin. “Did you panic?”
“No, of course not.” The nervous shift in her stance told me otherwise.
“Don’t worry. It’s a harmless act. He can’t tap into your memories, or anything like that.” I’d hoped to reassure her, but instead, she frowned further, as if she hadn’t thought of that possibility until just now.
Her reaction prompted me to think of something I also hadn’t ever considered. “Speaking of tapping into memories, are there any fae who are capable of reading minds or going through someone’s memories?”
Remic turned contemplative. “I’ve only met a few. Niall had one on his council for quite some time, up until he died about twenty years ago.”
“Oh. Is there a way to tell when someone’s in your mind like that?”
“A skilled fae could sift through your more prominent thoughts, and you’d never know. But digging into latent thoughts takes more power, and you would feel the violation. But if you have your mental shield up, it’s enough to keep them out.”
“That’s reassuring.”
Remic offered a slight grin, then stood, facing me and fanning his wings out behind him. “Before the others finish, I’d like to show you the coastline. I think it is something you would enjoy.”
I smiled up at him. “I would like that very much.”
Silas got to his feet as well. “On your lead,” he said, nodding at Remic.
With a powerful flap of his wings, Remic launched us into the air and we soared, higher and higher, our hair whipping behind us.
The smell of salt permeated the air as we neared the coast. And when I saw the cliffs that rose from the depths of the white-capped waves that crashed against the rocky shore, I gasped in awe.
Remic was wrong. I didn’t just enjoy seeing it, I marveled at the sight. Tears prickled my eyes, partially from the gusty winds that rushed against us, and partially because little pieces of my soul were being filled with each new place I went and each memory I made.
And Remic knew.
The flying, the glen, the coastline . . . He’d show me the world if I asked him to.
I squeezed his neck and smiled again.
And he smiled back.