39. Chapter Thirty-Seven #3
A murmur rippled across the table, but no one rebuked them. Even Goibniu and Domhnall, eager to jab and sneer before, held their tongues. For a moment, it was clear—the houses of Scáthae and Goibniu stood united against this threat.
Eisarnach only laughed, tossing a leg over the arm of his chair, as though their defiance only amused him. “All these fireworks in one room,” he drawled, spreading his hands as if to catch the sparks. “Careful, or Cindraloch may burn before the King of Ash even lifts a finger.”
I sighed. Eisarnach was going to be a huge problem. A big, huge, annoying problem.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Branwyn stand up and toss her golden locks behind her shoulder.
“I know his kind.” Her eyes fixed on Eisarnach.
“I’ve had…dealings with his brother before.
I’ve witnessed Eisarnach’s games as much as I’ve endured them myself.
My mother speaks of him with a certain fondness, while others spit only curses.
If she trusts his word, then I will too. ”
I stared, startled. I’d known Branwyn as the Crone of Caer Anam, the Morrígan’s chosen daughter—but never had I seen her like this.
She’s had dealings with his brother? Meaning the Veilwalker?
The one who carried me into Anamcroí as a child?
He was the most mysterious god in the entire Tuatha Dé Denann, his domain was the liminal.
From what I heard, he rarely left it. Yet… Branwyn had actually seen him.
I was so going to ask her about that later.
Across the table, Tairngire gave Branwyn a small nod That knowing curve of his mouth took hold, as if this had been part of his plan all along.
So that had been his reasoning for bringing the Crone to Cindraloch.
He knew that Eisarnach's arrival would stir the pot, and he needed someone to vouch for him.
He was always ten steps ahead. I hated him. I admired him.
I couldn't look at him.
Eisarnach’s smile curved slow and wicked, his gaze lingering on Branwyn with too much delight. “Ahh, thank you, little witch. You speak with such confidence,” he purred. “Perhaps it runs in the family. My brother always did have a particular sort of affection for your mother.”
Branwyn’s lips pressed thin. Her composure cracked at the mention of the Veilwalker. Eisarnach, of course, basked in it, drinking her discomfort like a fine wine.
“It’s settled.” Tairngire commanded, the divine glow leaving his eyes.
The bickering stilled.
“We leave at dawn,” he continued, brooking no argument. “To the heart of Cindraloch. We go on horseback, magic use must be kept to a minimum. We cannot afford to be tracked.”
Groans rippled across the table. Domhnall scowled, Ciaran muttered about the distance, Caedmon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Eisarnach only laughed, a rich, ringing sound that echoed off the stone walls.
Branwyn hooked my arm the moment Tairngire ended the council, pulling me up. “Come, Aurenya,” she sang, tugging me toward the doors. “And bring that delicious newfound confidence with you.”
Mairenn fell in on my other side, shooting Branwyn a sly look. “Still causing trouble, I see.”
Branwyn grinned. “And you're still caged like a precious bird in the castle. Tell me, does your king ever let you stretch your wings toward Caer Anam?”
Mairenn rolled her eyes, an edge to her tone. “You know I’ve never been to Anamcroí. I fight Neit’s armies but never step foot there.”
“That’s why I always had to find you here,” Branwyn winked. “And isn’t it always worth it when I do?”
Mairenn’s grin split wide, the two of them laughing like old comrades.
I nearly stumbled between them—Branwyn, full of wit and loyal as a hound, and Mairenn, fierce enough to flatten me in the training courts. Side by side, their familiar banter was dizzying.
“You two know each other?” I blurted.
“Of course.” Branwyn shrugged. “There aren’t many women tied to divine games like us."
“Fewer still who thrive in them,” Mairenn added with a grin. "We have to stick together."
They traded stories of Cindraloch as we walked through the halls—mischief and battles I'd never heard of. I listened, caught between them, wondering why Branwyn never mentioned anything about Cindraloch in all the years we'd been friends.
I supposed I couldn't blame her…I never really asked. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself…sticking my nose in some book, avoiding any sort of closeness with others.
Fear really had a way of keeping me from some of the best things.
Before I knew it, we were standing in front of the corridor that led to my chambers.
Mairenn touched my shoulder. “Sleep well, Aurenya. Tomorrow will demand more of you.”
Branwyn leaned in, lips brushing my ear. “I’ll fetch you just before dawn. We'll have time to catch up tomorrow.” She squeezed my arm lightly, the contact both foreign and welcoming all at once.
Their laughter lingered as they parted, leaving me in the corridor with a heavy weight in my chest for what awaited us tomorrow.