We passed the final tree, and the carriage came into sight. Aengus lowered his head and shook away the traces of dust. I followed his actions, promising myself a long soak in a bath the moment we returned to the palace.
Enbarr nickered at us from where he stood in front of the carriage. Excusing myself, I jogged over to the skeletal capall who tilted his head at me in question. Aengus continued toward the carriage and mounted the steps, seeming to want to avoid another confrontation.
“We’re going back to the palace,” I said to Enbarr. “The harp we wanted for Drayce wasn’t there.”
Red flared through his eye sockets, and a growl reverberated deep within his bones. I stepped back, holding up my palms. “We do have another option.”
Enbarr fell silent.
I held up the Dagda’s broken staff. “I saw someone use this to bring nine people back to life.” Enbarr made a harrumph of protest, but I spoke over him before he could start growling again. “Yes, it was broken when he raised them from the dead. If that doesn’t work, I have an enchanted ring, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll have to confront the Fear Dorcha ourselves.”
The capall stared at me, his red eyes the only expression in his elongated skull bone. I nodded, trying to reassure Enbarr of my intention, even though my power currently extended to shifting around the interior of a palace and opening rifts with my sword and blood.
Enbarr turned away, and I took that as my cue to step into the carriage.
As soon as the door closed behind me, Enbarr set the vehicle into motion, and we soared above the orchard to the clouds. I strode into the royal suite, where Rosalind and Nessa sat on the dining chairs turned toward the bed. My heart ached to see Drayce still lying helpless, and a mournful sigh slipped from my lips.
The two females rose from their seats and curtseyed, their eyes widening at the sight of my dusty armor. I murmured a greeting and rushed to Drayce’s side, clutching the broken staff.
Light streaming in through the small window at the back of the carriage illuminated the barest of green highlights on the tips of Drayce’s hair. My heart plummeted, and my insides twisted into a series of knots.
I reached down, picked up a strand of his hair, and held it to the light. Instead of the darkest indigo, his hair was a green so deep that it might as well be black. The change was so subtle, I doubted that anyone else but me would have noticed the change. His eyes didn’t flicker underneath the lids.
“Did you get the harp, Your Majesty?” asked Rosalind from behind.
“No.” Inhaling a deep breath, I placed the short end of the Dagda’s staff, the end he used to revive his nine dead lovers, onto Drayce’s chest.
Nothing happened.
Searing pain lanced through my heart with an intensity that made me hiss. My knees buckled, and I sat on the edge of the bed, fighting off the onset of tears. I had thought… My chest tightened. I had thought that agreeing to the Dagda’s bargain might save Drayce.
“Your Majesty?” Rosalind’s voice was breathy with concern, and her footsteps approached.
I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled my anger, frustration, and despair in an outward breath. We still had another option. Maybe the Dagda hadn’t been lying when he said I wasn’t mated to Drayce.
“The harp is in the Fomorian mist.” I rose to my feet, reached into the pocket of my leather skirt, and checked for the ring. Despite the runes etched on its surface, the cool metal felt smooth against my fingertips.
When I turned around, the two females stood together at the foot of the bed, Nessa short and round with Rosalind tall and winged. Each looked so fae, it was hard for me to see them as anything else, yet I felt for them the same level of trust as I would Father Donal or Eirnin the blacksmith.
“The Dagda told me something disturbing.” I turned my gaze to the shorter female. “Nessa, could you check that my mating bond with King Drayce still exists?”
The gruagach’s brows drew together, and she exchanged a wary glance with Rosalind. “Your Majesty?”
My throat dried. I didn’t want to repeat the Dagda’s words, as they were probably part of a larger manipulation, but I had to be sure in case he was right before I even considered using that ring. “He also told me our souls weren’t mated.”
Nessa bustled to the narrow walkway where I sat between the wall and Drayce’s side of the bed. She rubbed her large hands on her apron. “I need to hold both your hands to feel the bond.”
“Alright.” I placed my hand onto her leathery palm.
She wrapped her fingers around mine, squeezed her eyes shut, and sucked in a deep breath. Her thin lips moved, whispering an incantation over and over until it buzzed in my ears and sent tingles running up my arm and into my heart.
I glanced at Drayce, looking for signs that he might be feeling the same, but he remained unresponsive.
Nessa dropped our hands, and Drayce’s arm fell to the mattress. She turned to me, her features grim. “When the curse ejected his Majesty’s soul, it must have broken your bond.”
My eyes widened. “Can we pull it from the dream realm—”
“It’s too dangerous to dabble with that kind of magic, and we can’t risk losing you to the curse.” Nessa wrapped her hand around my wrist. “Please, Your Majesty. The Shadow Court has only just vacated the kingdom. If we lose you, darkness will spread across the whole of Bresail.”
“Nobody but his mate can break that curse.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ring. “The Dagda said Queen Melusina used something similar to form a bond with King Donn. Do you think this will work?”
“May
