Day 14 of Midwinter, Nightfall

  Túr Crochta, The Deep Realm

  Annwn

  Tethra’s face gave away nothing as the Fomorians slowly left the great hall. She stood stern and quiet, and those who didn’t know her as I did likely didn’t see the rage behind her eyes. Finally, we were alone.

  Letting down her guard, Tethra turned to face me, shouting, “Why would you do that?” I flinched in surprise. It was late, and I was tired from the day, not to mention emotionally exhausted by Corb's return and his challenge to Tethra. It hadn’t occurred to me that my actions would have angered the very person I had been trying to protect.

  Exhausted, I simply looked at her. I was, as always, struck by her beauty and strength. Sometimes it almost took my breath away. It had always been this way for me when it came to Tethra. I looked closely at her now, looking for the ominous haze. The tendrils still surrounded her, but the room was clear.

  At my silence, Tethra’s anger seemed to melt away. She held my gaze, her voice soft and serious. “I could have ended this today. You can’t see the future, Cai. You said it yourself.”

  I felt a pang at her using my given name. She had called me “Béstin,” the Fomorian word for “little beast” since our very first sparring match. She had told me, at the time, that I lacked form and finesse, claiming that my swordplay was that of a “mindless beast.”

  “Orna is faster than Corb’s Fuilgeir,” she continued. “And we both know that I am the stronger sword master.” I knew she wasn’t wrong, but I couldn’t get the picture of Corb’s sword out of my mind. It was huge, double-bladed, with the nickname “Blood Cleaver.” It had only one purpose.

  I reached for Tethra’s huge hand and held it between both of mine. “But you will be trying to win. He will be trying to kill.”

  Tethra gently pulled her hand from mine. “He will abide by the rules of the duel, or any victory will be void.” She was trying to hide it, but I heard the slight hesitation in her voice. She had grown up with Corb, and she understood his true nature even better than I. She quickly recovered, shooting me a scowl.

  “You made me look weak.”

  “If anything,” I began, with a half-smile, trying to ease the tension, “I made myself look weak.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need you to fight my battles, Béstin.”

  “I know.”

  She turned away from me, gazing back to the still-warm ashes of her father. “Corb shouldn’t even be here.” She scoffed. “He claims he has brought back a huge treasure from Gorias.”

  I hadn’t known that. “Do you know what it is?”

  “Other than the Evil Eyes? No. I suspect he is saving the big reveal for an opportune moment.”

  Looking at her, I could see dark circles under her eyes. “You should get some rest. You look exhausted.”

  She shook her head. “You know, I miss the days when I followed you across Annwn to protect you… and now here you are, trying to look after me.”

  “I miss those days, too.”

  “Those days are gone, Béstin. Gone are the days when I would patch your wounds, and you would remind me to get enough rest.” Her voice wasn’t cruel, but the words cut at me like a knife. “Those days died with my father.”

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  My heart ached. I missed our nights traveling Annwn, smoothing her hair as she slept to quiet her bad dreams. We had shared so much in only a few short years, and my respect and affection for her had grown into something deeper and unbreakable.

  She could see her words had hurt me. I saw my own pain in her eyes. Without another word, she left the great hall, leaving me alone with the dead.

  “She’s right,” I admitted to the remains of my adopted father after Tethra had gone. “But you paired us, from my very first night in Annwn. You sent her after me in the Pool. Why?”

  No answers came from the pile of smoldering ash, but I waited longer, just in case. When no answers came, I too left the room. Ill at ease and knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep, I wandered the sleeping city. There were few out at that hour. Even those who had attended the king’s funeral were home and in bed for the night. This wasn’t unusual. The top-side chores that many residents had each day kept the underground city on a circadian sleep cycle. The night was quiet, giving me too much room for my thoughts and worries.

  I walked down and down from the exit of Túr Crochta, not really knowing where I was going. Eventually, I found myself at the training area where I had first picked up a Fomorian blade. It would be at the center of these grounds that the duel would take place in two days.

  The dueling ground was a sacred place to the Fomorians. It was a site used to adjudicate grievances and matters of honor. Only rarely had it been used for matters of rank, and never for matters of succession.

  The circular pit was large enough for up to four fighters with melee weapons. The walls, made of aged stone, were about 15 feet tall. In the middle of the pit was the “Abyss,” a dark hole that opened into the ocean, far below sheer cliff walls. The dark of the Abyss was complete, and no one who fell into the hole had ever returned to the light.

  “The Abyss waits for us all,” a mocking voice said from behind me. I recognized the husky tone, and my heart immediately started beating faster. In the stillness of the dueling ground, I was sure that he could hear it pound in my chest.

  I turned to see Corb standing a spear’s distance away. My eyes immediately flicked to his sheath, where I saw Fuilgeir at the ready.

  “I’m not here to hurt you, Maccán. You are, after all… family.”

  I subtly shifted my position, angling my back away from the pit of the dueling ground. “Why have you come?”

  “That is an open-ended question if ever I’ve heard one.” The hiss of his voice reminded me of a snake, with each phrase coiling around the last as if for sport. “I applaud your efforts at the fortress city. Too bad you and father couldn’t manage to bring back Nuada’s head.” His red eyes seemed to laugh at me.

  My utter contempt bubbled to the surface, making my voice come sharp. “You mention Nuada but let us not pretend that you defied him.”

  He laughed. “Now your question makes more sense.” He stepped closer to the pit, which put him closer to me. As he spoke, his red eyes continuously changed hues, typically a sign that a torrent of fire was coming. My already pounding heart sped up.

  “You aren’t wondering why I have wandered a sleeping city to find an outsider in the dueling grounds. No, you are more concerned with why I have chosen to return to MY home.”

  The weight of my sword hung reassuringly on my belt. “Your home? You were exiled, Corb. You know this.” I was confident that this conversation wasn’t going anywhere productive.

  “… By a weak king whose mind was poisoned by a traitorous adopted son.” He stared at me, hatred seeming to pour off him. “You may have fooled my father and my sister, but there is no rule in this for you, not while I draw breath.”

  I could see an amber glow beginning to creep to life in my hands, unbidden. My anger was feeding my energy boons, and I very much wanted to act on that emotion. I clenched my fists. “I have never wished to rule, only to help my family.”

  Corb’s fiery eyes flared, matching the intensity of my energy aura. “Be careful, little beast. I am not so weak as my father or sister. I will kill you without hesitation. But…” His tone changed, as did the intensity of his glowing eyes. He leaned closer as if to tell me a secret.

  “If you wish to fight against those who oppress us, I can give you a war like you have never seen. Fight with me, and I will allow you to unleash your power against our enemy. Glory will be ours.” He extended his hand.

  I froze, shocked. He wanted me to join him and truly believed that I was governed by my ambition. I supposed it was impossible for a mind filled with doubt and hate to expect anything but the same base-level motivations from others.

  Disgusted and angry, I stared at his hand. I let the silence grow between us, waiting to respond until Corb’s hand dropped back to his side. “First you defy a man that I loved. Then, you threaten a woman I love. If we weren’t on sacred ground, I would cut off the hand you offered me.”

  The red glow came surged back into his eyes. I began preparing my Transform Energy boon, ready to modify the flame when it inevitably came, but it never did. Instead, Corb laughed, the fire in his eyes dying down. He continued to laugh, long and hard, all the way out of the training grounds.

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