He obviously didn’t, but his beady eyes glowed with rage as he stared at me.
“Isn’t there anything you want to ask me before I end your miserable life, my dear son?” The Brid’s voice was sweet. “Haven’t you wondered why I left you on your father’s doorstep? Why I sent my worthless son to kill you as a boy?”
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t going to let her distract me, despite the weak need to know the answers burning in the pit of my stomach.
The Brid sighed, still cowering behind the King of Boars. “The truth is, I tried very hard to get rid of you while you were growing in my body. But you latched on and wouldn’t die. Like a parasite, sucking up my essence. The thought of you growing in my womb made me sick. You were a mistake. Mortal men were always fun to toy with. Your father had no idea who he was lying with that night, butyouwere never supposed to be the outcome.”
I clenched my teeth, refusing to let the pain from her words bloom any larger.
“And then you were here, squalling like a weak little baby bird. I should have killed you then, but I could see the power you had stolen from me lurking deep within. I wanted it back—back where it belonged, in mytruefamily. You didn’t deserve it, half-mortal little runt. So I waited until your fae side started to emerge, and I sent Nua to kill you. To absorb it back into its rightful family.”
I swallowed. I knew Nua could absorb things from others—he’d taken my injury from me when I’d first made it into the forest.
“But he couldn’t do it. Weak little worm. And every guard I sent to kill you instead never made it back.” She snarled. “He was protecting you. Keeping you alive. And then…”
She let out a great sigh. “I forgot all about you, as unimportant as you were. The little half-breed runt living his pathetic, boring mortal life. You weren’t worth thinking about. Worrying about. I didn’tneedthe power you had stolen. I am strong enough without it.”
“I don’t care,” I finally managed to get out. “Come out and face me.”
She laughed. “So eager to meet your death? Alright.”
My heart leapt into my throat, hammering fast. But before the Brid could move, something dark appeared in the corner of the empty room, jerking my gaze towards it before I could stop it.
I stared at Ankou and his great hound. I could see the white glow of his eyes beneath the wide brim of his hat as he gazed back at me in silence. Then his head turned towards the Brid.
“No,” she snarled unsteadily, her voice shaking. “He is here for you, runt.”
I licked my lips, my heartbeat slowing. I already knew I was going to die. The sight of him didn’t bother me.
“If you can see him too, you know what that means,” I rasped.
“No,” she spat again. “No, it—Surely it is the blood we share. We are linked—”
“Then come out and face me,” I repeated calmly.
She snarled, and I could hear the fear bleeding into her voice. Ankou and his hound stood still, saying nothing. Waiting for us to die.
“Triath, get him,” she snarled, and the King of Boars started running towards me—fast.
But not fast enough. He was heavy and ungainly, and he had the entire throne room to cross. I leapt to the side to see the Brid sprinting towards the door that led to her private chambers, tripping over her long green dress.
As the boar slammed into my side, shattering bones, I loosed the first venom-tipped arrow. It sank into the Brid’s waist, jerking her to the ground.
The King of Boars butted me again, knocking me to the ground with a painful thud, but I fumbled to nock my second arrow. I fired as one of his great hooves crushed my hip, and I saw it pierce the Brid’s neck before he shoved me onto my back with his snout and stamped on my chest.
I choked, staring up at him as my chest cavity collapsed under his weight. This was agony. My teeth clenched together so hard I thought they’d shatter as my heart strained, crushed under his cloven hoof.
I could faintly hear the Brid sucking in snarling, panicked breaths—hear the rasp of her dress as she weakly slid across the floor on her front. Then she let out a pained choke, and I smiled up at the King of Boars, feeling the blood coating my teeth.
He snarled down at me, stamping his hoof deeper into my collapsed chest. I choked weakly, my vision starting to fade as my eyes drifted to the black figure slowly approaching. Ankou’s hound slunk obediently by his side, and long green fingers emerged to stroke the top of its head.
The death fae stared down at me for a moment, before turning to face the Brid.
“Will you come willingly?” he asked her in a low, calm voice. “Or does my cusith have to drag you to the afterlife?”
“No,” she rasped, her voice weak and thready. “No, I—N-not me—Him—”
“You first,” Ankou said steadily. “And then we’ll see about him.”