Chapter 31 #2
Aoife said nothing, sensing there was more coming.
“I’ve been careless. Athraith are supposed to be companions of the Sheedar, and all I’ve used it for is to run fast, cause a little chaos and spy on you.”
“You weren’t spying on me.” Aoife gave an exasperated sigh. “You were watching out for me.”
“Lot of good that did.”
Aoife thought hard, pieces slipping into place. “You destroyed the loading cranes.”
Cormac looked sheepish. “Guilty.”
“You set exports back days.”
“I’d like to say that was the plan, but I was just angry and I wanted to break things.”
If that were true, he could have lashed out somewhere less dangerous than the harbour, surrounded by Eldrossi guards.
“I used to think my parents were overly serious about the whole thing. My da was always warning me to practice restraint. I’ve been seen far too many times by the villagers.”
“I did wonder if all of those were you. After seeing your ma’s colouring and your da’s size, I knew it must have been.”
“They hardly ever shift.” He rubbed his hands together. “I used to think it was caution. My da being careful, the way he always is.”
He shook his head slightly.
“It’s more than that. The villagers don’t see an animal in the woods,” he said slowly. “They see a warning. An omen. A sign that the Otherworld is watching them.”
All the times the Athraith had been seen in the forest, disaster followed: buildings collapsed, animals were lost, and illnesses and deaths stole loved ones away.
They’d all been attributed to him. On the day she’d first seen Cormac in his Athraith form, he’d said, ‘Just because two things happen at the same time, it doesn’t mean one caused the other. ’ Now she understood it.
“I never thought it was doing any harm.” He looked her in the eye. “The bad things that happened had nothing to do with me.”
“I know that,” she said, sensing he needed reassurance.
He looked away again, nudging a fallen leaf with his boot. “But I did frighten people, even if it wasn’t my intention, and I’m not sure that’s fair.”
Aoife lifted a hand, about to touch his arm, before thinking better of it and letting her hand drop. “You can’t hide who you are to make other people feel better.”
“That’s the thing. I don’t think I know who I am.”
Aoife wrinkled her brow; she wanted to ask what he meant.
“My parents chose to live here, amongst people,” Cormac continued. “Before that, they spent decades amongst their kind and amongst the Sheedar. They understand, in their bones, what it means to be an Athraith. They understood what it might mean when they agreed to your plan.”
A ripple had passed through the crowd when they appeared. Each person interpreting their presence in their own way. Each person deeply affected by their presence. It had stirred something in them.
“And Lugh,” Cormac said quietly.
The name hung between them.
“He died for them,” Cormac’s voice dropped to barely a whisper, “He died for me.”
The wind stirred the branches above them, scattering a few yellow leaves across the grass. He was right and wrong at the same time. Lugh had stood between Riona and the bullet, but he’d done it because he had faith in something greater than himself.
Cormac scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, I don’t know if I’m making any sense.”
“You are,” she assured him, fingers drifting towards his on the bench until their hands touched. “Lugh knew what he was doing. He made a choice to save your mother. You do him a disservice if you think he didn’t.”
“That’s the thing. Being… what I am. It means something. But I don’t know what that is.” He put his head in his hands, and when he spoke again, it was between the gaps of his fingers. “I’m just… I’m confused about who I am, who I’m supposed to be. I think…”
Aoife held her breath; the way he said it frightened her: the drop in pitch, the sense that he was struggling to say whatever it was.
“I think…” He exhaled slowly, removing his hands. “I think I need to find out.”
Her chest tightened.
“I want to go to the Otherworld,” he said, the words tumbling out of him.
Aoife sat in stunned silence.
Stay.
Stay.
Don’t go.
Don’t leave me.
The words fought in her chest, desperate to escape her lips.
She could see he was waiting for it.
If she said it, he might stay, but he needed this. It would be selfish to ask him to stay, but letting him go wasn’t entirely selfless. If he stayed, he might one day see how much she had changed.
It had been weeks since she had last seen Halverton face to face, yet still he haunted her. His voice surfaced whenever she faltered, sharp and correcting.
Worst of all, her body still answered him.
Her back straightened when she meant to slouch. The Eldrossi accent slipped easily into her speech before she could stop it. And when someone touched her without warning, she froze as though bracing for him.
Lady Eva hadn’t faded; she had settled deeper into her bones.
She wasn’t sure she could bear watching him discover it too.
She swallowed the words.
“You should,” she said instead.
Cormac held her gaze for a moment longer. He nodded.
A quiet sadness moved through her chest, strange and steady.
It took her a moment to recognise it.
She loved him.
And because she loved him, she would not ask him to stay.