“Don’t get me wrong,” Donal said, his mouth full of mutton, “this food is deadly. I don’t like this feeling that they tucked us away, though. As if we would sully their dinner conversation.”

  “It wasn’t their choice,” Maeve said. “It was ours. Siobhan and I wanted to eat down here in their lord’s hall away from the judgment and snobbery.”

  A worried look flickered in Finn’s eyes. “Don’t tell me the meeting went worse than expected,” he said to Siobhan.

  “It depends on your perspective,” Siobhan said. “Fellas, there’s a matter we have to discuss, and I didn’t want anyone else around when we did.”

  Finn’s face blanched. His eyes darted from person to person and then to the doors. It was the second time since they had arrived at The Creeve that his face appeared ready to vomit.

  “We’ve put you lads through a lot in the past year,” Siobhan said. “You’ve accepted some bizarre truths and embraced an entirely new world.”

  Donal wiggled a finger between himself and his brother. “You talk like we didn’t come out on the better side of the deal,” he said. Finn took time out from his squirming to nod in agreement. “You two helped put me on a path toward peace—even if I haven’t reached it yet.” He smiled and tilted a thumb toward Siobhan. “And the pity you’ve shown my brother has made him the happiest tool in all of Ulster.”

  Siobhan closed her eyes and shook her head. Finn let slip a single laugh which, given his current state, sounded hollow and sickly. Donal's comment wasn’t for them, however, and his audience of one loved it, judging by the smile on Maeve’s face.

  “Setting aside the faff for a moment,” Siobhan said with narrowed eyes in Maeve’s direction, “there’s another blow to your reality we’ve been neglecting to tell you.”

  Donal smiled. “Let me guess—”

  “—Donal, let them speak,” Finn said. His thumb and middle finger rubbed the outside of his brows. “We need to hear this.”

  Maeve and Siobhan stared at Finn for a moment and then shared a nervous look. Maeve urged Siobhan to continue with a nod.

  “We had told you both that while your parents intended to shield you from the sílrad life, they still worked some jobs for them,” Siobhan said.

  “Right,” Donal said. “We knew that.”

  “What you don’t know,” Siobhan said, “is that work got them killed.”

  “Hang on,” Donal said. “Are you telling me that those bandits near Cavan were Fomori?”

  “There were no bandits, Donal,” Maeve said, “and your parents weren’t traveling near Cavan, either.”

  “Where were they, then?” Donal asked, “And what happened to our parents?”

  Siobhan stammered over her next words, “There were… We have to go back… It—”

  “It was wolves, Donal,” Finn said. “Wolves killed our parents.”

  Maeve’s hand landed on the table with a thud. “How in the bleedin’ hell did you know that?”

  ‘You’ll have to tell me later,’ Donal thought to himself. He couldn’t have said it then and saved us all fray the past few minutes?

  “Fergal mentioned it,” Donal said. “Indirectly.”

  Siobhan clenched her jaw. “That wasn’t his story to tell,” she said.

  Finn nodded. “I agree. It was Murrough’s story. It was Niall’s. It was your mam’s.” He pointed at Maeve. “It was hers.”

  He looked down and squeezed his mouth shut as he bobbed his head. His voice wavered as his eyes returned to Siobhan’s. “It was yours.”

  Siobhan’s expression collapsed as her eyes dropped to the table. She took his nearest hand in both of hers. “You’re right. I’m sorry you had to hear it this way.”

  Finn’s face softened. He was about to let the ladies off the hook too easily.

  “Which way is that?” Donal asked. “The way where Finn tricks Fergal into revealing the details, or the way where you all wait nearly a year past the point of our understanding to tell us?”

  “Both,” Siobhan said. “Once we freed the cauldron, there was always something. Always something happening that made it a bad time to tell you two. Before you know it, nine months passed.”

  Maeve cleared her throat. “There was that other business as well.”

  Donal sighed. “Just tell us.”

  “Gavin was part of your parents’ group assigned to watch the comings and goings from Tory Island. The group included two of his childhood friends from Connaught,” Maeve said.

  Gavin O’Roarke could trace his ancestry back to Goibniu, forgemaster of the Tuatha Dé. He was the best blacksmith north of Dublin in his own right. Yet he was loathe to raise a weapon in battle. He nearly broke down last year when he saw scars on Siobhan left by the sword he crafted for her.

  “G’way,” Donal said, “and he survived?”

  “He wasn’t there when it happened. He was carrying a message to Murrough that night,” Maeve said.

  “He never mentioned that he knew Mam and Da!” Donal said.

  “Because he was ashamed,” Maeve said. “Your mother was the usual messenger of the group. He got excited and begged her to deliver the information that night. He’s blamed himself for her death ever since.”

  Donal sat back and processed the new information as it spun inside his head. He considered the weight of what Gavin had carried these past four years.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  You should be furious, Shadow said from the corner of his mind. Your Ma would be alive right now if not for him.

  “You said Gavin’s friends were there?” Donal asked. “Were they laid low?”

  Siobhan nodded.

  Dry up, Shadow, Donal thought.

  “And the people behind the attacks did some awful things to send we sílrad a message.”

  “What kinds of things?” Donal asked.

  Siobhan and Maeve both shook their heads and said, “No,” in unison. Siobhan waved off Maeve and spoke, “Never you two mind that. Listen to me carefully. That information will never benefit you, in any way, so damn your curiosity. We took care of those who did that bit of it last year at the abbey and Doon Well.”

  “Interesting coincidence,” Finn said. He leaned forward in his chair. “Is there anything more you can tell us about the attack?”

  “Quite a bit, actually,” Maeve said. She spun a tale similar to the one Fergal shared with the brothers earlier in the day. With the details about Finn’s and Donal’s parents known to all, Maeve was forthcoming with its conclusion.

  “It turns out that a woman not much older than myself was behind it all, bringing her uncle in tow. After we nabbed them, we walked ‘em all the way from Rathmullan to here.”

  Finn opened his hand and pointed it at Maeve. “‘Here,’ as in Coleraine, The Creeve, or this very castle?”

  “They were to be kept here in Mountsandel indefinitely,” Maeve said.

  Donal and Finn slid back their chairs. Finn rubbed the back of his head with the other. Donal pointed one finger to the floor. “You’re telling us that the one responsible for killin’ our parents is here? You should have told us!”

  Siobhan held up her hands. “We didn’t know,” she said. “Truly. We assumed that the O’Cahans moved her somewhere else or…” She spun her hand toward the side of the room.

  “This is too much,” Donal said.

  “I’m afraid it isn’t,” Maeve said, “because there’s more.”

  Finn furrowed his brow at the table and then looked at Siobhan. “The meeting?”

  She nodded. “Brigid and Brendan are free to come with us, but with one condition: the woman in question must come with.”

  “That makes no sense!” Donal said. “She’s no business making this journey with us.”

  “It makes all the sense,” Finn said. “They don’t want the twins to go, but they don’t want to be the ones to say so.” He looked at the ladies. “The lord and lady know the circumstances of our parents’ death, I take it?”

  “That they do,” Maeve said.

  Finn pointed toward the throne room. “They assume Donal and I won’t go for it, which makes it our decision to keep Brigid and Brendan from going.”

  “Even though we know what they’re doing?” Donal asked.

  “We’d still be the ones deciding,” Finn said. “Nasty bit of business, that.”

  The group fell silent and picked at their food for several minutes. It was common to see Siobhan fret over Finn from a distance in moments such as these. What unsettled Donal was catching Maeve doing the same. She stole glances at both brothers in between jabs at the meat on her plate.

  Finn said, “The O’Cahans won’t send a host of people with us to the Otherworlds just because Donal and I agree to their terms.”

  “Right again,” Siobhan said. “If we go, the Lord agreed to send some of the kin over to help Mam and the aul’ men with any Fomori problems while we’re gone. But we’re on our own with the twins and Fergal.”

  “What do we know of the O’Neills?” Finn asked.

  “I haven’t met many,” Maeve said. “I think they’ll know we tried O’Cahans first and got nothing for help. We can try, of course, but it begs the question of how much longer we want to delay our journey.”

  “Long enough to guarantee our success,” Siobhan said.

  Maeve shook her head. “So you’re waiting forever, then.”

  Siobhan sighed. “Tell me about yer wan out there,” she said. “Why do Brendan and his parents continue to keep her here?”

  “He seems to think there’s enough good in her to quiet the bad,” Maeve said.

  “She’s Fomori, isn’t she?” Donal asked. “How much good can there be?”

  “She’s a Morrigan,” Siobhan said. “It’s not that simple. Those descended from a Morrigan thrive in situations of battle, conflict and tension. It’s almost innate.”

  “Indeed,” Maeve said. “To hear Brendan tell it—in his own, ‘Brendan’ way—Breaslin killed her family, save for an uncle. He spared the uncle solely to be used as the consequence should she refuse the Fomori.”

  “I suppose I could sympathize,” Finn said. “Maeve you’re the only one in this room who’s dealt with her. Can we trust her?”

  Maeve chuckled. “You’d have to be the thickest scholar in all of Ireland if you did,” she said. “I can tell you there was glee in her eye as she set up to kill me in that forest. If not for Brendan, I’d be dead.”

  “How did she manage that?” Donal asked.

  Maeve narrowed her eyes and raised the left side of her mouth in a sneer. “I had just fought off a monstrous wolf, didn’t I? That thing sunk its teeth into my leg so deep that I still have the scars.”

  Donal’s eyes widened as his eyes glanced into her lap. “You do?”

  “Twelve of them, top and bottom of my thigh,” she said. She canted her head in reply to his expression. “You don’t want to see them, do you?”

  Donal didn’t hesitate. “Sure,” he said before catching himself and sitting straight. “I suppose, anyway. Never seen a wolf bite before.”

  “Fine, lad,” Maeve said with a sigh. She slid her chair out from under the table and a few inches toward him. Slowly, she pulled up the bottom of her leine with both hands, offering a rare glimpse of her upper legs. He leaned forward as she forced her thumb between her left hip and the inside of her breeches.

  Donal’s head lurched to the right. Maeve had struck him in the back of the head with her right hand. A wave of heat spread across his scalp and over his face.

  “And you,” she said to him, “Little wonder why your brother thinks himself the smart one!”

  Donal looked around the table as he rubbed the back of his head. Siobhan and Finn contorted their faces to stifle a reaction. Siobhan’s attempts were in earnest; Finn’s less so.

  Maeve hooked a finger under his chin and lifted his face to meet hers, still one foot away. “S’alright, lad,” she said. “We don’t pretend to bring you along for your brains.” She flicked a half-hearted expression of annoyance at Finn. “It’s your brother who better worry himself about it.” She tapped Donal’s cheek twice with her palm just hard enough for a brief echo off the stone walls before she slid back toward her meal.

  “You’re saying we can’t trust her,” Finn said. “What about her intentions? Is she capable of regretting her actions?”

  Maeve stopped chewing her bread and frowned at the table. “If she truly is capable of such a thing,” Maeve said, “she’ll never show it unless she either means to or someone tricks her. Everything she does is meant to keep others in the dark or off balance.”

  “Sure look,” Siobhan said, “The O’Cahans put you two in an awful spot. Their children are absolutely livid with them. In that, there is some good news: the twins aren’t just willing to help us—now they are driven to it. And they want to help make this as easy on you two as they can.”

  The only sounds in the room came from the utensils scraping Maeve’s plate. Finn leaned forward and looked across the table at Donal.

  “Be honest with us, Donal,” Finn said. “What are you thinking? Surely your shadowy friend hasn’t been quiet about this revelation.”

  “He’s rattled on a bit,” Donal said, “but in this matter he’s found no cause to get me riled.” He shrugged. “At least not yet.”

  “Finn?” Siobhan asked.

  “Let’s sleep on it tonight and talk to this woman in the morning with a clear head,” he said.

  Donal frowned at his plate. “Clear head?” he asked. “That excludes me, doesn’t it?”

  “It makes you mandatory, I’m thinkin’,” Finn said. “If she’s going to set off your shadowy friend, better to find out now than when we’re in a fight.” He stood up, balanced his cup upon his plate and picked them up. “I’m going to drop this off in the kitchen and get ready for bed. Big day, hai?”

  Maeve scooped the last bites of dinner into her mouth, eyes fixed on Donal. “He’s thinking something new,” she said to Siobhan. “Don’t be bashful, lad.”

  Donal looked at the door through which his brother had exited and sat up in his chair. “I’m thinking the decision that was forced upon the two of us was just dumped onto me.”