Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,98

Na Nog lost their magic a hundred years ago, but you have not. Tell me how that’s possible if there isn’t something special about you.”

She brushed the tears off her face, trying her best to hold it together. Darkness pulsed in the back of her mind, reminding her that she was far from normal. She never had been. She’d always been plagued by that madness that lurked inside of her memories. Half of her life was a forgotten blank slate. Sometimes, she saw things that weren’t there.

And the magic of the ice slithered through her skin.

“I don’t want there to be something wrong with me,” she whispered fiercely. “I don’t want to be the Namhaid. I don’t want to destroy anything at all!”

“And now you understand why I’ve married you and kept you here. If you are the Namhaid, you can never leave these lands.”

35

Reyna

The fire crackled. Sparks flickered toward the dark sky, the twin moons hidden behind bulbous clouds. Reyna sat back away from it, her arms wrapped around her knees. She and Nollaig had ridden deep into the night, their horses tiring from the intensity of the charge. Reyna wanted to keep going, but Nollaig insisted they camp for the night.

“I forgot you ice fae don’t like fire,” Nollaig said, settling onto the ground beside her. Her cloak bunched up around her legs, but she didn’t seem to notice. Reyna wondered if the cloak now felt like an extension of her own body at this point.

“It’s not my favorite element,” Reyna said, sliding a glance her way. “Do you take off your cloak when you sleep?”

Nollaig stiffened. “That’s a personal question, Shieldmaiden.”

“You can’t blame me for being curious.”

“I could if I wanted to, but no. I haven’t removed this cloak since the moment I first donned it.”

Reyna stared at the shadow fae. The orange glow flickered across her hidden face. Everything about her was steeped in shadows. And yet she trusted Nollaig more than almost anyone else in the world.

Nollaig shifted sideways, the folds of the cloak dropping down in front of her face. “I could ask you something similar, you know. What’s really going on inside your head, Shieldmaiden?”

Reyna’s arms tensed around her knees. She turned her gaze, her eyes locking on the flames. “You know what’s going on. The Ruin. It wants me dead.”

“And you’re going to let it kill you. Why?”

“Because I’m the Namhaid. I know you don’t believe it, but I am.”

“You only believe it because of what the Ruin has been whispering into your head for weeks. Did you ever stop to question it? You’ve let it get to you. It’s burrowed itself beneath your skin. Not every terrible and cruel thing it’s said about you is true. You have to fight through the storm and see the clear skies ahead. You are not what the Ruin says you are.”

Reyna’s heart ached. She wanted to believe Nollaig, more than anything else. “But if it’s not me, then who is it?”

“I don’t know,” the shadow fae whispered, her words almost drowned out by the roar of the fire. “But you should take those herbs you brought with you. It quiets that voice, does it not?”

Reyna nodded. “It’s my last dose, at least until we get back to the city.”

“Well, then make it count, Shieldmaiden.” Suddenly, Nollaig’s head jerked up. Her hood swivelled to the side, and her gloved hand vanished into the folds of her cloak.

Frowning, Reyna unwound herself and stood. She gazed in the same direction, but she could scarcely see beyond the glow of the fire, much less further than that. Her ears caught nothing but the flames. Her body had grown so weak.

“What is it?” she hissed.

“There’s something out there,” Nollaig murmured as she pressed up from the ground. A bow and arrow appeared in her hands. Reyna blinked. How the hell had she hidden that inside her cloak?

“Something?” Reyna asked. “Or someone?”

Nollaig hissed as she notched an arrow. “Whatever it is, there’s more than one of them. Grab your dagger, Shieldmaiden.”

Reyna groaned as she found her footing, wincing as a sharp pain rippled through her belly. It felt like a stab, one that echoed several times over. She’d been getting those flickers of pain for the past several hours, and she knew what it meant. Her body was breaking down. She doubted she had more than a week left to live.

Lorcan hadn’t understood why she’d wanted to go on this quest. Or maybe he did understand but just didn’t want