Nuadha froze, a snarl twisting his lips. “You will not take my place.”
“I don’t want it,” I said.
“It’s not a choice you or I make!” he roared. His face was mottled red and white with his rage, and he didn’t lower his hand.
The man who had stopped him shook his head. “Nuadha, this is a decision for the whole council. . . you have let your fear rule you.”
I saw the moment that Nuadha made his decision, saw the calm acceptance that he would end this now.
Crap, crap, crap. I pushed Darcy down and sprinted towards Bres. Darcy screamed behind me, “Nuadha, no!”
It was the only warning I had. I dropped to the ground as a power bolt sizzled over top of my head. Leaping to my feet, I made it to Bres and smashed through the Barrier with Carnwennan.
Bres shouldered me aside, “Stay out of ta way!” as Nuadha rushed us.
Three strides behind Nuadha was Luke, pulling his sword free of his scabbard. Nuadha glanced over his shoulder. “Good, Luke, keep Bres busy.”
Nuadha never saw the blow coming. Luke smashed the hilt of his sword into the back of Nuadha’s head, dropping him to the ground in an unconscious heap.
“What the hell was that about?” I gasped out, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Luke snapped his fingers. “Guards, put him in chains. Now.” There was no arguing that voice. The power and Charm that he put into his words made doubly certain that he was obeyed.
Guards milled about, putting Nuadha into chains before he came to.
Luke stared after Nuadha. “He’s been off the whole time I’ve been back. He’s not the leader I remember him to be.”
Bres shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I know what happened to him.”
Everyone paused what they were doing, looked to Bres for the understanding of Nuadha’s sudden madness.
“Chaos.”
13
With Nuadha in chains, we made our way to a tent city the Tuatha had set up. The largest structure in the middle of the makeshift camp was the Council’s and Nuadha’s. The Council hushed us all on the way there.
I tried to query the Council as we walked, but the only response I got to my questions was—“We will discuss all behind the walls of the Council.”
Darcy gripped my hand the whole way, and Bres and Luke stayed right behind us, guarding my back.
As we walked, my hand gripped in Darcy’s, I realized it was the first time in many years she’d willingly taken my hand, or touched me at all.
It’s because she is the oracle and her visions one day will cease, and yours will start. That is why she wouldn’t touch you, Cora said, surprising the hell out of me.
I thought you had left me, I said, unable to keep the bitterness out of my mind. Cora had kept so much from me, so much that could have helped me understand, and maybe could have stopped some of this hurt and madness.
I can’t remember everything anymore, Quinn. It’s why I came to you when Ashling and you first came to the West Coast. It’s why I’m with you now. I am doing my best, with what I have left, even if you don’t believe me.
Ah, a punch in the gut would have been preferable to the shame that filled me. I’m sorry. Why did you keep Wil and Darcy apart?
I felt her shift as if adjusting herself. Because he wasn’t good enough for her. A smith! She was to be the oracle; she needed a strong man, like Lir, to love her.
This conversation would take us nowhere. Okay, fine. Whatever. Tell me about why she wouldn’t touch me, hug me, or hold me, even as a child.
Cora let out a sigh. Because as you saw in the helicopter, her visions can be passed to her offspring, as one or both could become an oracle in their own right.
I squeezed Darcy’s hand. She looked over at me and gave me a half smile. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
I untangled my hand from hers and slipped Wil’s ring off my thumb and pressed it into the palm of her hand. “I understand better now. He still loves you.”
Everything seemed to shift in that moment. Years were stripped from her, the bitter woman I knew who was full of anger and pain was gone, leaving only a woman who looked strikingly like Ashling, young and vulnerable. The resemblance was true, right down to the innocent wide green eyes, and the hope that filled them. “How . . . I don’t understand.”
“It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. Go to him, be happy.” I stopped walking, forcing the Council to stop, too. I didn’t care about the audience as I pulled her into a hug, and she clung to me, crying. Her body shivered as I let go, her eyes squeezed shut as if she were holding back, or more accurately, as if she were in physical pain.
“I was a terrible mother.”