Chapter Eighteen

Your wife is alive.

I heard the words, but they didn’t resonate. I almost laughed out loud or perhaps sobbed, my emotions in chaos.

Finn staggered backward, his chest caving in. He shook his head, all the blood draining from his face. “You’re lying.”

Amergin raised his hands. “I know it sounds impossible, but she was taken into Fianna custody after a firefight in London. They transferred her back to us.”

Charlotte Hayes. Finn’s wife. She had supposedly died long ago in a fire. I glanced over at Malachy. He stared at the floor, his shoulders slumped. He knew something.

Finn barreled toward Amergin, breathing hard, sweat beading on his upper lip. “Charlotte is alive? After all this time?”

Amergin nodded. “She’s been working for the American government. She claims to have knowledge about the Fir Bolgs. Perhaps you could speak to her, bring us intel to help our now mutual cause.” Amergin glanced at me when he said the word mutual, and I bit back a scream. He could agree to my terms outwardly, but he would never truly be an ally.

My mind returned to the crisis at hand, my anger splintering and turning to a maelstrom of emotions. I thought of the blond woman in the London Underground. The one in black shouting commands. We had locked eyes for a split second, but she knew. She knew who I was. Questions raced through my mind, and I wanted to crawl out of my skin. What had she been doing all this time? How long had she been working for the American government? Did my father know about her? What did she know about the Fir Bolgs?

Finn paced the floor, and he ran his hand through his hair before he turned back to us. I nearly gasped at the ghastly pallor of his face.

“I don’t want to speak to her,” he snarled. “That woman is a ghost. Charlotte died years ago. I mourned her. She never came back to me. She never—” He turned, his voice breaking with emotion. My hands ached to reach for him, to hold him, but loneliness surrounded Finn like a plate of armor, the hatred and pain and sadness radiating from him as unbreakable as a ward I couldn’t penetrate.

“I will speak to her.” I straightened my shoulders, heading toward the dungeon.

“No!” Finn grabbed hold of my arm, and I stared down at his fingers until he pried them away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, backing away, his face a riot of feeling.

I wanted to slip into his arms, stroke his back, his dark hair, find anchor in the warmth of chest, but instead I shrank from him, taking deep, gulping breaths.

Charlotte was alive. Alive after all this time.

None of it made sense, and I ran my fingers across my forehead, wiping away the beads of cold sweat that had broken out at my hairline. I glanced at my hands and noticed they were shaking, and, closing my eyes for the briefest moment, I willed my fingers to still, for my heartbeat to lengthen.

I turned to Amergin. “Take me to her.”

His brow furrowed, the bard glanced between Finn and me.

I gritted my teeth. “Now. I know the device Charlotte’s talking about. We don’t have time to sit around here chitchatting about where she was or why she’s back. If the Fir Bolgs proceed with their plans, all of us on this side of the mortal world will perish.”

Amergin’s face darkened, and he stood up, folding his robes around him. “Very well.”

Finn’s fingers met mine, and he pulled me in close. “You don’t have to do this.”

I drew away, Finn’s touch suddenly radioactive, delicate, and volatile. “We’re running out of time.”

Amergin edged between us and opened the door. “She’s in the catacombs. You remember them, Elizabeth?”

I winced, trying to ignore the subtle barb and the memories of that horrid place, the violent interrogation he had placed me under just over a year ago. Even in this raw moment, when all of my inner demons and insecurities rose chortling and hissing to the surface to undermine me, when I had a thousand questions and no answers, Amergin couldn’t help but try to throw me off my game using my past.

I thought of Scáthach, her sharp face staring down at me, gazing at me down the tip of her spear. I had to play by my own rules because none of this was fair. I couldn’t let Amergin break me down again. Not now.

He waited for me in the hallway before tearing down the long corridor.

“Did Charlotte tell you anything?” I said, dogging his footsteps. “About what she’s been doing for the last 150 years?”

“Charlotte was sworn in to the Fianna. There’s no telling why she broke her vow. Perhaps someone forced her to.” He sneered at me. “Perhaps she did it for love.” He stopped abruptly, eyeing my spear. “Where did you get that?”

“None of your business,” I snapped, shrugging past him.

We marched through winding stairs and down into the familiar tunnels leading to the catacombs. I clenched my fists at my side, memories of when the Fianna imprisoned me here, how Amergin had me beaten to a pulp, flashing at the edge of my mind. The wounds had long since healed, but the trauma of that night still burned in my mind like a searing brand.

As if reading my thoughts, he turned to me with a slight smile. “Seems like only yesterday we first met. My, how things change.”

I stopped in my tracks, crossing my arms. “You haven’t changed, Amergin. If you think this alliance makes me want to forgive and forget, you’re kidding yourself. We have mutual goals. That’s all.” My gaze wandered back over my shoulder at my spear. “One thing that has changed is I now have the power to ensure you die a slow and painful death, something which I have imagined a thousand times. Don’t give me an excuse.”

“You’re still bold as ever, Elizabeth Tanner, but if you think I’m impressed with your new tricks, your dragans, your”—he gestured to my spear—“new toys, you are quite mistaken. I have several millennia on you, and I have seen stronger warriors than you rise and fall. If this war doesn’t break you, time will.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but he pulled out a key ring from his robes and slipped it into the door.

“She’s in here,” he said.

I looked Amergin up and down. “Leave us.”

He frowned. “Are you sure that is wise? We have her chained in gemel, but as a trained Fianna, she could be unpredictable.”

I shook my head and edged around him. He slipped the door closed behind me.

A tiny form all in black sat huddled in the corner, and even in the dim light, her hair shimmered a bright gold. Charlotte looked up, and I tried to keep my face blank and unreadable as I fully took in her appearance. Of course she was beautiful. A delicate chin, lips as round and full as a doll’s. Even through the sweat and grime covering her skin, she had the features of an angel. I hated her for that. For her beauty. For her existence. For coming back. Or perhaps, for not coming back when Finn needed her. Most of all, though, I hated her for the shadow she had suddenly placed between Finn and me, the great hovering cloud of his vow to her. Finn and his vows. One more broken promise. I could stack them up like pebbles on the shore, just to watch them slip away with the tide.

“Where is Finn?” she said in a breathy voice. Her accent was strange, and something about it tugged at my awareness. I pushed it aside, studying her large eyes, black and hollow in the darkness.

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

She looked away, staring at a small puddle of water in the corner. “Who are you?”

“I’ll be asking the questions,” I said.

She snorted, waving her bound hands. “Ask away. I won’t talk to anyone but Finn.”

Hot rage burned through my chest, but I pushed it down, mentally dousing it with ice water. I had to keep myself calm, focus on the mission. Take the emotion out of it. Charlotte had answers, and I needed her to destroy the device, defeat the Fir Bolgs. I couldn’t allow her to draw me into her manipulations. I took a deep breath and scratched the back of my head to hide my trembling hands.

“Charlotte Hayes back from the dead.” I paced the small chamber, studying the granite walls and smoothing my hands over the rough stone. Some of them had scratch marks, and I repressed a shiver. The Fianna policed the mortal world for Fae, and who knew what beasts they locked up here and for what cause. If we won, that would all change. No more secret jails and interrogations. No more indefinite imprisonment for the Fae who dared to travel into the mortal world.

Not if we win.

When we win.

“I don’t know what he resents most,” I said, turning back to Charlotte. “The fact that he thought you were dead for so many years, or that you found a way to worm your way back into his life.”

She stared up at me. “And so you’re the expert on Finn O’Connell?”

I studied the ceiling, clasping my hands in front of me. “I was a prisoner here once. You would be amazed the ways Amergin can make you suffer.”

“Amergin recruited me.” She brushed her long hair from her eyes. “I know what that man is capable of. He doesn’t scare me.”

“Were you working for the U.S. government when he recruited you?” I said. “Or did that come after? After you faked your death?”

“I didn’t fake my death!” she snapped.

“But you never returned,” I said. “Sounds like the fire was a convenient escape for you.”

“You know nothing about me,” she spat, “and I aim to keep it that way.”

I shrugged. “Honestly, your life story means nothing to me. Amergin says you know how to dismantle the device meant for the Tree of Life. I want that knowledge.”

“No,” she said. “Not until I go free.”

I rested my palms on my hips. “Write it down for me, and I will talk to Amergin about releasing you.”

She raised her bound hands and tapped her forehead with a smile. “It’s all up here.”

We locked gazes, tension crackling in the air between us.

“Tell me,” I said.

Charlotte laughed, rising up to her knees. “You have to be mad to think I would disclose something so precious. I give those plans to you, and I’m dead. We both know that.”

The floor bottomed out beneath me, and my heart pounded, sudden recognition washing over me. I knew that voice. Knew where I had heard it before.

I banged on the door, sweat pouring down my neck, and Amergin opened it. Shaking my head, I slipped out, leaning against the wall, gasping for breath as a wave of fresh panic threatened to pull me under. I squeezed my eyes tight and willed my limbs to steady, hiding my shaking hands in my pockets.

“What did she tell you?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said through panting breaths, clutching at my chest. “But she’s emotional about Finn, about the fire, and her ‘death.’ Charlotte may be working with the government, but there’s a lot she’s not telling us. Things I know.”

“Such as?”

“I’ve met her before.” I closed my eyes, images from the past reeling through my mind like an old movie. The cold government facility. The isolation. The fluorescent lights, the sterile cookies, and the girl in the vent. Hermione, I had called her, because she said she had forgotten her name, they had kept her prisoner for so long. She had pretended to be Fae, and they had planted her to talk to me, to dig into my consciousness and pry open all my secrets. I had trusted her, told her everything about me, about…Finn. All that time, and she had revealed nothing about her connection to him. She was good. So treacherous and so cold.

I opened my eyes again and realized Amergin had been studying me, his shoulders tense.

“It was in a secret government facility.” I brushed away the cold sweat beading on my forehead. “She was a plant. An informant. I trusted her.”

He nodded knowingly. “We all trusted her.”

“Anyway”—I shook my head, knocking those horrible memories back into the closet where they belonged—“she’s not going to give up the plans until she’s free.”

“That is not possible. The moment we take off the gemel, she’ll slay anyone in her path. We’ll have to torture it out of her.”

“No!” I cried. A wave of dizziness swept over me, and I leaned my head against the cold stone, waiting for it to pass. I had seen enough torture, enough pain and violence. I wouldn’t undertake that on my watch, and besides, there were better ways to get Charlotte to talk.

“I need to talk to Finn,” I said, dreading what I knew I had to ask of him.

“His mind is clouded by his feelings,” Amergin said, leaning in close. “If she knows how to stop the Fir Bolgs, we need that knowledge now. If this device is as dangerous as you say, we cannot hesitate. You said yourself, we’re running out of time.”

I slammed my fist against the wall. “I know. But don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious? This woman shows up after a century? This woman who we know lies and lies just to get what she wants?”

“Perhaps she wanted to be caught.” Amergin leaned against the wall, his eyes closed in thought, and for a half second, I felt a strange connection to him—the burden of leadership, the impossible choices, the dead ends and false starts.

But the moment passed, and I pushed myself away from the damp stone, shaking my head. “Even if she gave us all of the Fir Bolgs’ strategy on a silver platter, we can’t trust her.”

“What choice do we have?” Amergin asked in the barest whisper.

I glanced at him, startled by the “we” in the question. My mind traveled back to Maeve leading her army into battle, her grand alliances with men she undoubtedly despised. Before the device had shown up, the battle lines had been so clear. Amergin was just another villain, a part of the darkness, the other side of the war we waged. I hated him and what he represented, but now our survival depended on each other. What would the world look like when this was over? Would there even be a world left?

“Finn knows her better than anyone,” I replied, choking on his name. “Perhaps he can find the truth. Start gathering your people and your weapons. We will need to leave soon and strike the Fir Bolgs. With or without Charlotte’s intel, we will move forward.”

“We will be ready in the morning.” He wandered in the opposite direction, his shoulders tense and his gait quickening as he turned the corner.

I returned to the Great Hall, but Malachy said Finn needed some air. I wondered where he had gone, but then realization took hold, and I raced up the stairs toward the ramparts. Fianna headquarters in Galway was basically a medieval castle next to the River Shannon. Humans couldn’t see it, which made it convenient for the Fianna to go about their work policing the Fae in the mortal world. As I climbed the stone steps, the tower growing narrower, I thought of the world Finn had given up for me—for us. I pushed the rickety wooden door, and a blast of sea air hit my face. I recalled the last time I stood here with him. The uncertainty of our two paths colliding, the tension dancing around us.

Finn’s hulking form leaned against the wall, his body so still he could be the silhouette of a statue except for his hair blowing widely. Beyond him, the pulsing black hole raged in a quiet storm, sheet lightning and billowing black clouds swirling in the maelstrom. The people of Galway looked like ants below, staring up at the horrible sight, murmuring to each other and pointing. I wondered if the symbol on the device had changed, and if we had reached a new stage in our countdown to Doomsday. It certainly felt like the universe was falling apart.

“Charlotte is alive,” I said matter-of-factly, finding my way to his side. “Your wife is alive.”

He didn’t speak for a long time but stared at the ocean, a muscle flickering on the edge of his jaw.

“You’re confused,” I continued. “Hurt. Angry. Who is she working for? How did she escape the fire? Why did she never come to you?”

He shook his head and took my hand. “Don’t.”

I wrenched my palm away. “Look, I love you. And I don’t know what Charlotte is doing here or why she is working with the government, but you need to go find out, and you need to do it now. Because—”

My voice broke, cracked with sudden emotion. I had resolved not to fall apart, and I pushed the pain back, the twisty hollow feeling, willing myself to feel nothing at all.

“Because,” I continued, “very soon, I’ll be taking all these Fianna, all these Druids, and all these púcas and Fae to Tír na nÓg to fight in a war against the enemy of my people. I need you at my side, Finn, but not if you’re filled with thoughts of her.”

Finn swallowed hard. “Are you done talking now?”

I let out an exasperated sound.

He reached out and stroked the edge of my cheek. “I am not filled with thoughts of her, Elizabeth. Charlotte may be alive, but she is not my wife. All I can think about is a vow I made over 150 years ago but no longer feel is important. I am trying to work through why that vow no longer matters when at the time it was the only thing that mattered.”

“Charlotte—”

“I do not want to talk about Charlotte,” he growled, drawing his hand away and massaging his temple.

“And you think I do?” I propped my hand on my hip. “Charlotte is here, and unfortunately, we need her.”

His head snapped up. “What are you talking about?”

I quickly ran through what I had discussed with her, how she refused to give up the plans to dismantle the device. I placed a tentative hand on his arm.

“Amergin wants to torture it out of her, but perhaps there’s a better way,” I said, relishing the touch of his skin, the small silky hairs covering his hard muscles.

“What do you propose?” Finn pinched the space between his eyes with a long sigh.

“Maybe…” My chest tightened, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Maybe you can get close to her…”

“Absolutely not,” Finn said in a clipped voice.

“Technically, you are still married to Charlotte.”

“I want nothing to do with her!” Finn turned and paced the rampart, his fingers trailing across the moss-covered stones before clenching into fists. “And I will not allow myself to be used in such a manner.”

I let out a long exhale. “What do you want me to do?” I stared up at the sky, wishing there was a better plan. A better answer to all this mess. A hundred weights settled on my chest, and I wanted to scream, or at least beg the world to slow down, for the clock to stall for a few minutes so we could sort things out, take our time with the past and the present.

“Look.” I swallowed hard, the words struggling to form. “I know all of this is madness, and if I could think of a better way out of this, I would. Maybe you can stay behind here, work the source until we find answers. Maybe—”

“No. Wherever you go, I go. I will not leave you.”

I stared at Finn, his eyes glassy and bloodshot, his hair tangled and unkempt. He needed a shower. We both did. And about twenty-four hours of sleep.

“Aren’t you curious at all?” I whispered. “Where she was all that time? What she was doing?”

He shook his head, his teeth grinding in his skull. “Any word from her mouth would be a lie. She had 150 years to tell me the truth about herself, and she never did. I don’t care about anything she has to say.”

“Fianna mate for life.” I traced circles across the back of his hand. “You told me that once.”

Finn grabbed my shoulder, his fingers digging into my skin. “And as far as I am concerned, the Charlotte I knew died in that fire,” he said through gritted teeth.

I glanced down at his hand. “You’re hurting me.”

His eyes widened, his hold loosening before pulling me close to his chest in a tight embrace. “Forgive me, Elizabeth. It’s just that…” He let out a long sigh then drew away from me and pulled something small from his pocket.

I glanced down and gasped. It was a ring, the band a delicate Celtic knot with a gleaming emerald embedded inside it.

“Finn…” Tears stung my eyes.

He stared down at it and swallowed hard. “One of the púcas is a jeweler and made it for me. I was just waiting for the right time to give it to you. And now I fear it is too late…”

The wind picked up. A lock of silky hair blew across his jaw, and I swept it away from his face, my fingertips trailing across his unshaved neck. “No, it’s not too late. It’s not.”

He shook his head. “You said it yourself. Fianna mate for life.”

“Oh.”

A heavy weight dropped on my chest, and my gaze fixated on the ring in the middle of his palm, the pale gold, the round stone, smooth and a deep shade of forest green. It appeared so small and delicate, and I longed to grab it from him, place it on my finger, or at least keep it in some deep, hidden place so I could pull it out as proof. Proof that once two people gave everything to each other, proof that love had a shape and a material place in this world. Now, with Charlotte, our whole history felt so twisted, as if the path we had wandered down had suddenly ended and landed us inside the depths of a dark wilderness. I didn’t know what to do or where to go.

He saw me staring down at the ring, and his fist clenched around it, his knuckles bright white. “It will never be the same now. There will always be the past lingering over us. And Charlotte—”

“Fuck Charlotte, okay?” A wave of anger rose up in me, and I shook my head, cupping his face tightly with both my hands. “I have fought for you. Bartered my soul, traveled through time and multiple dimensions to be with you. I’ve been to the past, Finn. And to be honest? It kind of sucks. Let the past go and love me now. Right now. Here. It’s only us. There’s only ever been us.”

He stared into my eyes, his gaze searing me straight to my soul. “I love you. I want to marry you. More than anything in this world.”

“So what’s changed?” I demanded.

“I don’t…I don’t know…” he stammered, staring down at the ring.

I balled my hands into tight fists, the aching desire to punch him, knock some damn sense into that hulking man overpowering all the sense in my brain.

“You want to sulk in this purgatory,” I said over my shoulder as I fled the ramparts. “Go right on ahead. Fuck you and your ring and all the promises we made to each other. If you’re going to let Charlotte come between us, then forget it. If all you want is a marriage, then maybe you should march right down to that dungeon and put that damn ring on her finger. And while you’re at it, get the plans to dismantle that goddamn bomb.”

“Elizabeth—!”

I slammed the door behind me, skulking blindly through the halls of Fianna headquarters. What I had said was cruel, childish even, and the words lingered in my mouth with a poisonous aftertaste. I couldn’t resent Finn for feeling confused about his wife returning from the dead, but deep down, I thought the promises he made to me were stronger than anything the universe could throw at us.

My footsteps felt so heavy, as if fate itself clung to my heels and dragged me down. I wished Finn had followed me, but I couldn’t blame him. We were both a mess of righteous anger, regret, and rage, and as I wound my way back to the Great Hall, I became more determined to understand, to trace the origins of this mess back to the source.

Malachy stood by the fire, a goblet in his hand, chatting animatedly to Talia, who had sprawled out across the floor, her scaly face resting on her deadly talons.

“What happened the night of the fire?” I interrupted, marching right up to him.

Malachy’s face contorted with confusion. “The fire?”

“Yes, the fire,” I pressed. “When Charlotte supposedly died. What happened, and don’t lie to me.”

Malachy sat back, stretching his long legs in front of him. “Elizabeth, the past is the past. Let’s not—”

“Tell me!” I shouted, my voice echoing up into the rafters.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “You have to understand, this was a different time. New York was at war.” He let out a long exhale. “When I saw what the Fianna had done, how they had set up the explosives, I grabbed Charlotte at the last minute and took her as my prisoner.”

My jaw dropped, and I spluttered. “Malachy, how could you…? Why didn’t you—”

“Tell you?” he said with a snort, shaking his head. “The heir to Tír na nÓg, daughter of my dearest friend, walks the earth? A miracle! A revelation! And not only that, her protector is the greatest warrior in an age. If I told you, both of you, what happened, Finn would have left you and gone in search of Charlotte. And you? You would have been broken. You’re a team. An insufferable team, but you’re better together.”

I spluttered, fresh rage burning in my chest, my hands itching to throttle him. “Jesus, Malachy. I can’t believe you would hide something like this!”

He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. So what?”

“So what?” I blinked rapidly, my voice shrill and harsh in my ears. “You couldn’t have said, ‘Oh, hey, nice to meet you, and BY THE WAY your boyfriend’s wife is still alive’?”

“Absolutely not!” Malachy’s voice boomed, his shoulders shaking. “That would have ruined everything!”

My mouth dropped to the floor. “You are my friend, and you lied to me. All you care about is the Resistance. You never thought about the cost to me.”

His face darkened, his canines lengthening. “I have spent centuries drenched in the blood of the Fae, crawling and scraping, fighting for every inch of ground to liberate our kind, to tear down the Veil and find freedom in the mortal world and Tír na nÓg. I have spied, double-crossed, and betrayed, and yes, I have lied. And I would lie again.”

I stood there, stunned. All the blood drained from my face, and a wave of lightheadedness gripped me. I grasped the edge of a table, my fingernails digging into the ancient oak. I had trusted Malachy more completely than anyone else aside from Finn, and all that time, he had held this secret.

I thought he was my friend, but I was nothing more than his ideological tool, a figurehead he could place at the helm for this operation. I glanced down at the swan tattoo on my hand, the tattoo he had so carefully placed there, point by point, the tiny ink dots creating the swirling wings, the outstretched neck. Every prick of my skin, every drop of blood another tally mark in this larger scheme.

But wasn’t that what Maeve would say? They don’t want a piece of you. They want a piece of what you can claim. I glanced over his shoulder at the dragan Talia, now posed to strike, her emerald eyes studying me, waiting for me to attack, to scream…something. He had brought her clan here, her Fae clan and so many more.

Maybe Malachy was right, in the end. All that mattered now was winning, resisting, getting through it. We couldn’t turn back now, and I needed fighters, regardless of the reason why they stood beside me. I straightened up, tucking my loose hair behind my ears, forcing my face to smooth over to some semblance of calm.

“Elizabeth.” Malachy stretched out his hand, his eyes softening. “Finn said himself, whoever that woman is, she could have returned to him, but she didn’t. Why should I have said anything with so much at stake?”

“What happened to Charlotte?” I asked in a flat voice. “You said you kept her prisoner, but she escaped. How?”

Malachy squirmed. “Well, that’s actually the interesting bit.”

I glowered at him. “Malachy.”

He shrank away, steepling his fingers under his chin. “I told you. We were at war. It was a different time. And Charlotte’s family was powerful. They offered me a king’s ransom in exchange for her, even gave me a job on the inside.”

“Her family?” I said. “Who…?”

He scratched his head. “Some government official. An ambassador or something like that. Whoever they were, they knew of the Fae and had it out for us. They even knew about—”

A guttural cry echoed through the Great Hall, and I whirled around just in time to see Finn leaping across the benches toward Malachy. Talia roared, smoke billowing from her nostrils.

Malachy jumped up, shielding himself with his hands. “Finn, look, let’s talk about this…”

Finn marched across the Great Hall, grabbing Malachy’s lapels and slamming him against the wall with such force, plaster rained down on their heads.

“Liar!” Finn’s muscles trembled, his hands shaking with rage.

Talia let out another roar, her talons scraping across the floor. I tried to edge myself between the two men and the dragan, ready to travel Finn out of there, blast Malachy away, something, anything to stop them from killing each other. I stopped short when Finn glanced over his shoulder, his red eyes seeing right through me.

Malachy raised a hand to Talia, who only briefly paused, her talons clicking on the floor in a quick staccato, green eyes trained on Finn.

Malachy slumped against the wall, shaking his head. “It was for your own good. Believe me—”

“I thought she was dead!” Finn threw Malachy to the ground. “You knew all along!”

I stood there trembling, trying to find my voice, but all the oxygen remained trapped in my throat.

Malachy scrambled to his feet, brushing off his suit. “Yes, I knew. When I worked as a double agent, I would sometimes see glimpses of Charlotte and her family, but in the end, she mattered little to me. None of you humans did. And then you showed up, the protector and consort of the Princess of the Fae, the one who could unite and save our people. Why would I tell you the truth? So you could run off, search for Charlotte Hayes, and break Elizabeth’s heart? Just look at her!”

A horrible frown distorted Finn’s face as he paused, studying me for a long time. I wondered if I appeared as alone and friendless as I felt right then, the walls of the Great Hall closing in on us, boxing us into that one moment, that one freeze frame.

Just look at me. I longed to echo Malachy’s words, because as Finn stared me down, eyes scarlet rimmed, cheekbones sunken, his jaw a black shadow of fresh beard, I knew he didn’t see me at all. He saw Charlotte and the years he had lost without her. He saw his grief, his pain, his broken vows. But he didn’t see me. My chest tightened, my heart pounding impossibly fast as a scream welled up in my throat, and I turned away, clutching the back of my neck, my head hung low.

Malachy stood beside me, his hand gesticulating with sharp movements. “You think for one moment I care about you or your wife? Everything I’ve done has been to protect Elizabeth. To protect the Fae. Yes, I sold your wife back to her family, and I would do it again. You think Charlotte belonged to you? To the Fianna? She was probably in the hands of the government all along.”

Finn shook his head. “You’re saying she was a spy?”

“How the fuck would I know?” Malachy shouted. “All I cared about was money to build our resistance. She could have been the bloody Easter Bunny for all it mattered to me.”

Finn breathed hard through his nose. “You are unbelievable.”

“I am as I ever was, Finn O’Connell.” Malachy looked Finn up and down. “But you’re the one I cannot believe. That you would abandon Elizabeth when she needs you the most!”

“I am not abandoning her!” Finn bellowed.

“You might as well be!” Malachy exclaimed. “Is your heart with her or that woman in the dungeon?”

Finn’s mouth opened and shut several times, and he glanced at me, his fists clenched at his sides. He reached out a quivering hand and then pulled it back. Turning away, he kicked a bench, and it clattered to its side. I startled at the booming echo of the splintering wood against the flagstones. Finn rushed back to me, grabbed my shoulder, drew me close, and pressed a deep kiss against my lips. I sank into his body, relief filling me as I swallowed back a sob. His fingers clutched my shoulders with fierce intensity, one hand drifting up the back of my neck in a protective, possessive gesture.

“I love you,” he said, breaking off the kiss with a great exhale.

I nodded, suppressing a hot wave of tears. I still had so many questions—for Malachy, for Charlotte—but I didn’t question Finn in that moment. I didn’t doubt his kiss, his skin against mine. It was the only truth I had ever known. I leaned up, pressing my cheek against the sandpaper skin of his jaw. “We’ll get through this.”

He cupped my chin in his large, callused hands. “And if we don’t, know that I could measure the greatest happiness of my life in the hours I spent fighting at your side.”

My heart swelled. Perhaps all Finn and I had were mere hours, but if I died, I died knowing I wasn’t alone. I couldn’t fault Malachy for wanting to fight for justice, but I knew I would live and die for a higher cause—for love. Love. I couldn’t shout that word to my soldiers on the frontlines, make a catchy slogan with it and paste it on a bumper sticker, but my love for Finn encompassed multitudes, like the stars painted across the skies of Tír na nÓg. It was so much bigger than a war. It was everything.

Behind us, Malachy cleared his throat. “Speaking of fighting, that black hole outside isn’t getting smaller.”

I took a deep breath and stepped back, squeezing Finn’s hand. He gave me a tired smile, and my knees nearly buckled at the beautiful sight.

I let him go and, squaring my shoulders, steadied myself for our next steps. “I’m going to go get Torc and his crew to bring them to Tír na nÓg. I want you to talk to Charlotte.”

Finn opened his mouth to argue, but I raised my palm.

“You know her better than anyone here. Maybe you don’t think you do, but she may reveal more to you, give us some clues as to how to destroy the device.” I touched his cheek. “We need you, Finn.”

I need you.

He nodded, taking hold of my fingers and pressing the pad of my palm to his lips, his eyes dark and full of resolution as he turned to leave the Great Hall.

Talia, Malachy, and I stood alone in the dark chamber, and I glanced up at the dragan, taking in her great wings, her powerful scaled muscles. She had come like so many to fight for a better world in Tír na nÓg. In spite of everything, I couldn’t fail her, and as much as I wanted to scream and rail at Malachy, I needed his help.

“I have to go,” I said to him in a soft voice over my shoulder. “In the meantime, I need you to work out a plan.”

“A plan for what?”

“To take back Teamhair.”