Dark Isle(45)

Grief.

Loss.

Shame.

“What happened?” I asked again, though now the words were loud enough that they echoed across the lake. “Why are you here, and not protecting Ashling?”

Bres started to shake and I realized that he was crying, as if his very soul was being wrenched from his body.

“My pa, he thought he was protecting her. That’s why he went after ta box. And Chaos, she was the one who showed me Ashling’s death. Though I didn’t know it was her at ta time.” With an almost painful slowness, he lifted his eyes to mine. “Chaos showed my pa ta end too. Where you killed Ashling. He did this to protect her. Ta evil, it knew his love for her and used it against him. Chaos used it against us both.”

I jerked out of Lir’s hands and sloshed my way to Bres, the water creeping up past my thighs. “WHAT HAPPENED?” I screamed into his face, panic, and fear jostling for the front of my heart.

“I let her down,” he whispered. “I didn’t protect her.”

The water was suddenly to my neck; I didn’t remember sinking, only that both men were lifting me out of the lake. Ashling was dead, that’s what he was telling me. I could see her, playing at my side as a little girl, pigtails bouncing; I could almost feel her hand on mine as we ran in the yard with the old swing set. Dead, gone, light extinguished. The wail that left my mouth would have made any Banshee proud. Though Lir tried to hush me, holding me in his arms, rocking me gently, it was little comfort. Minutes stretched as the grief consumed my mind, made it almost impossible to think.

“How did she die?” I mumbled, my lips numb with shock. They’d set me on the edge of the lake, a park bench with a placard to the dead etched into it. Fitting, how very fitting.

Bres’ hands cupped my face. “She isn’t dead, Quinn.”

My mind spun, “What?”

“She isn’t dead,” Lir said, repeating Bres’ words. “Though, perhaps that would have been better.”

I jerked out of his arms, reminded of the first time I’d met Luke. He’d said much the same thing, as Ashling had been dragged under the waves by the Fomorii. That it was better that way, that she died then rather than face what was to come.

“How can you say that? If she’s alive then we have a chance to help her!” Nothing made sense though. What did Bres mean by saying that he had failed her, that he hadn’t protected her if she was still alive?

With Bres on one side, and Lir on the other, Bres finally spoke. They were right, perhaps it would have been better if Ashling had been killed.

“Ta evil that Card and Balor brought forward needed a body to live. To use. Balor thought that by setting Chaos free, that she would reward him, and keep Ashling safe. They convinced me that was the case, that you would kill her no matter what happened because it was fate, prophesy. I believed them. It was easier than fighting them. I thought I could keep Ash safe—keep her away from you. But . . .” he swallowed hard. “When Card found ta box, and Balor opened it, Chaos took Ashling’s body for her own. It don’t be Ashling inside anymore. Chaos rules her body and mind now.”

His rambling stunned me; he’d always been so composed. I turned to take in Lir’s expression. “Is it true?”

Bres stiffened behind me, but I didn’t care. He’d turned on me, when I’d thought that at the least he’d been my friend, if not something more. Now the tables had flipped, and I no longer trusted him.

Lir’s expression didn’t change but I could see that he didn’t dispute what Bres had said. Oh, how I wanted him to. I wanted the denials to come flying out of his lips, to tell me that Bres was a liar, that Ashling would be fine, and this was just another game that Balor was playing. But it was not to be. Instead, Lir said what I already knew in my heart.

“Ashling is, in a sense, no more. Your sister is gone, this time for good.”