“I’ll do it,” I snarled.
He gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing so tightly it felt like bruises had already blotted my skin. The Dagda leaned forward and pressed his lips on mine, filling my nostrils with the scent of ale. Light flared from our joined flesh, and the strength of the bargain wrapped around my heart.
I staggered back, coughing, spluttering, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. The Dagda removed the Sword of Tethra from his belt, wedged its tip between the bones on the floor, and strode out of my cell.
Harsh, racking breaths heaved in and out of my lungs. I needed Drayce awake more than ever because if I failed to break the Fear Dorcha’s curse and failed to repair the staff, he was my best chance of killing the hoard of the Dagda’s minions who would claim my sword and blood.
Chapter 14
I pushed at the cell’s door but it wouldn’t move, and I rested my head against its wooden surface and cursed. The Dagda could keep me imprisoned for the allotted time and then claim my blood and sword as my forfeit for not completing the bargain.
A tight fist of fury squeezed my chest, and a growl reverberated in the back of my throat. The Dagda never intended for me to fix his staff or break his curse. No matter how I answered his proposition, I would end up either dead or serving as his sword maiden.
My gaze landed on the Sword of Tethra, which stood proudly on the floor of bones. I pulled it out from the floor and slid it within the sheath on my belt. The last time I tried to make my blood transport me somewhere, I created an underwater rift. I needed Father and his druidic art.
The door opened, and Aengus stuck his head into the cell. “Your Majesty?”
I rushed toward him, my chest lightening with relief. “Has the Dagda released me?”
“He didn’t post any guards outside your cell, and the door was unlocked,” Aengus said with a frown.
“It only opens one way.” I stepped out into the darkened hallway, at the end of which stood an arch that led to where I assumed the Dagda had returned to feast.
Narrow passageways stretched to our left and right, their walls made of the same bones as my former cell. They extended into the dark with no source of illumination except for the tiny wisps of light streaming in from between the bones.
“Is there another way out that doesn’t involve crossing the dining hall?” I asked.
“Here.” Aengus turned left.
I hurried after him, not minding the bones one bit. I never wished to see or hear or speak with the Dagda. We rushed through a labyrinth of bone-lined walls, through winding hallways, and past cold, dark chambers that chilled and puckered my skin. With each passing moment, the Palace of Bóinne appeared to be more of a mausoleum than the dwelling of a demigod.
The ceilings sloped lower and lower. At first, only Aengus bent low, then I dipped my head to navigate the maze, and then we crawled on our hands and knees.
“Are you sure we’re heading toward an exit?” I whispered as I stared into Aengus’ cloak-covered back.
“I haven’t used it since I was a boy,” Aengus muttered.
My pulse quickened at his lack of answer. I wanted to ask his age but feared that the answer would heighten my anxiety. The walls closed in on us, now consisting of finger bones and the skeletons of creatures as small as the oak sprite. Dry, powdery air filled my nostrils, and my mind conjured up the image of millennia-old bones, ground into dust.
Scraping footsteps sounded several feet above, mingled with the scratching claws of something larger than a rodent. Aengus crawled faster, his frantic gasps echoing across the walls.
Remembering his warning about the orchard, I kept my head down and quickened my pace, not wasting an ounce of breath on questions, not daring to open my mouth in case powdered bones spilled between my lips.
Something plucked out a single hair, then another and another until needle-pricks of pain dotted around on my scalp. I clenched my teeth and continued after Aengus, not speaking, not saying a sound.
At last, we turned a corner and reached a chink of light the size of a platter. Aengus grunted and squeezed himself through the gap in the wall, loosening tiny bones as he writhed free.
Pinpricks turned to scratches, which turned to tiny handfuls grasping at my hair. I lurched forward, crawling over Aengus’ feet, not breathing until I knelt ten feet clear of the wall of bones.
I scrambled backward and peered at the wall. Aengus pulled me to my feet, panting hard from and trembling as much as me.
“Those creatures weren’t there when I was a boy,” he said, his tone apologetic.
“A lot can happen in a thousand years.” I turned and met his pale features. A thick layer of dust covered his golden curls, making me shudder. “I’m sorry if I ruined things between you and your father.”
He shook his head. “I never thought the Dagda would stoop so low as attacking a female.” He gestured for me to walk at his side. “At least that’s one option we’ve exhausted.”
We continued through the orchard, the sounds of snuffling beasts a mere distraction compared to what we’d faced in those tunnels. Silver streaks tinged the white clouds overhead, making me wonder how much time had passed since we left the coach.
“It wasn’t a complete waste of time,” I said.
“How so?” he asked.
“I now have the means of creating a mating bond with King Drayce.”
His blond brows drew together. “Fulfilling the prophecy that he will be awakened by his mate?”
I nodded. In all the excitement about his broken staff, the Dagda had probably forgotten about the mating ring.
The light reflecting from the apple trees grew dim, and the guards who had confronted
