Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,97

silence.

“If you won’t tell me anything, fine. All I ask is that you call off the Hunt this year,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes at the thought of the Fomorians murdering everyone she knew and loved. “You think I’m somehow connected to it. Well, I’m here now. Right? You don’t have to do anything anymore.”

He spun on his heels, facing her. His eyes flashed with a torment so great that it took Eislyn’s breath away. “You don’t understand, Eislyn.”

“Then, make me understand.”

He closed his eyes. When he reopened them, the golden light speared her soul. “You ask about the Dionadair, the thing you call the Ruin.”

Hope formed a knot in her throat. She nodded, wetting her lips. Was he finally going to tell her something? Was he finally going to explain what the hell was going on?

“Dionadair means Protector in our tongue.” His hands fell heavily to his sides. “A Fomorian scholar named Dagda once left these lands to explore the world. He came across Tir Na Nog, and he gifted those lands with our magic. But that gift came with a terrible cost. He had visions of a time when that magic would turn dark, when an enemy would rise, twist it for her own aims, and destroy the very fabric of the world.”

Eislyn’s heart pulsed, and all the blood drained from her face. She had a strange, prickling feeling where he was going with this, and it shook her to her very core. “Her?”

Lir nodded, his jaw clenching. “We call her the Namhaid. All this time, we have not known who she was, but we have details. Signs that give us an idea. An ice princess. One who has an owl familiar and glistening silver hair. One who pretends to be something other than herself. One who has dark dreams. And one who still has magic when all is lost.”

Eislyn’s mouth went dry as she swallowed hard. That described her. Perfectly. She’d tried to ignore the brown owl’s sudden presence in her life, but it was impossible. Somehow, she was linked to him. Eislyn had shaved off her hair, pretending to be a human boy when she was anything but. And her magic…

“The only problem is, the visions have always been unclear.” At that, he shook his head and sighed. “There is another fae that Dagda saw in his dreams. A hero. The Ghaisgeach. Sometimes, I’m not certain whether the ice fae princess is the hero or the enemy of us all, but I know she is one or the other.”

“The Ghaisgeach? You mean, the hero from the Sea Court legends?”

Lir’s lips flattened. “You’ve heard of this hero then.”

She nodded.

“Some of the visions suggest that the Ghaisgeach and the Namhaid will enter a battle of sorts. Whoever wins decides the fate of the world.”

Eislyn’s heart pounded. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Not only did he seem to believe these prophecies—these visions—were real, but he seemed to think that she was…

“You think I’m the Namhaid.” Her blood roared in her ears.

“All signs point to it, Eislyn.” He took a step toward her. “In truth, my subjects have been pleading with me to kill you. That’s why I’ve worked so hard to protect you from them. They’re terrified you will destroy the world. When the Namhaid gains power, she will not stop at Tir Na Nog. She will ruin us all.”

Hot tears splashed onto her cheeks, and she whispered, “If you really think I’m going to destroy the world, why haven’t you killed me then?”

“Because Dagda wrote his visions in books that have been passed down through the centuries. We’ve translated them as best we could, but we are not perfect beings who can read minds. I find the wording of the prophecies confusing.” He let out a sigh that seemed to shake the very core of him. “I believe you could be the Namhaid, but there’s a chance you’re something else entirely. You might be the Ghaisgeach instead. And if I execute you, I could be dooming us all.”

Eislyn took a step back, shaking her head. “This is madness.”

“I assure you, it is anything but.”

“I’m not what you think I am,” she argued, her raised voice reflecting all the frenetic panic charging through her veins. “I’m just a princess. I like books and cats and blankets and quiet nights. I’m not the Namhaid. I’m not your hero either. I’m just a normal girl.”

“Eislyn, you may think yourself normal, but you’re anything but. The fae of Tir