CHAPTER SEVEN

INISFAIL COURT

FECHIN

Fechin stood under the waterfall shower in his bathing chamber and washed twice to scrub all traces of Shisti from his body.
If only it was as simple to remove all traces of her from his mind and soul. The many spells she’d tried to use on him over the years didn’t require concentration to bat away, but did require some attention, and he resented each one.
The need to get out of her proximity, and feel free of the castle he’d once thought of as sanctuary, gnawed at him. He resented her for that, too — turning his home into a place he wanted to leave was almost a worse crime than forcing the sex between them.
Tonight had been a failure. There was no child. It was disappointing and a relief. The Raven Throne remained out of reach, but Shisti was not a mother. Would she even have an interest in the child? Did he want her to? He shoved those questions aside. No point in worrying about something that would never happen.
Physically clean, he waved a hand to shut off the water. Rivulets streamed from his body as he left the bathing chamber and strode toward the balcony in his bedroom.
Calling on his mother’s magic, he surrendered himself to the raven inside him. The bird surged forward, and ancient magic swept through Fechin. Thousands of pinpricks rolled across his skin as feathers took him. His eyesight sharpened. Bones and body felt weightless as arms became wings and flapped with powerful strokes.
The Morrigan’s power to change to raven carried to all her descendants and bonded ones.
Fechin soared from his tower and over Fae. The magic of the land flowed through his veins and he savored the connection. The pureness replaced the unwanted touch of the witch.
He circled, banking in wide circles. To the west, dense forest canopy thinned to mangroves, then a swamp leading to sandy beaches and the sea. North, the trees climbed foothills that became alpine meadows, tundra, and craggy mountains. Beyond the peaks, a snowy expanse of ice and snowy-covered glaciers. East, the desert, and south, grassy plains.
As his circles grew smaller, clearings, homesteads, and villages interrupted the expanse of treetops.
The Ocean Court. The Swamp Court. The Ice Court. The Mountain Court. The Under Mountain Court. The Desert Court. The Plains Court. The Forest Court.
Each was split between Seelie and Unseelie, and every one of them had its own King, Queen, royalty, and agendas. It was impossible to keep track of their squabbles and alliances as they changed daily, if not hourly.
Once, they’d all been united under the Raven Court, but as the magic weakened with no official King, Fae divided.
The Seelie wanted to see the Morrigan, or her descendants, on the Raven Throne. The Unseelie wanted a Fae on the throne, considering the Morrigan an outsider, since she was Tuatha De Danann.
Fechin caught a warm updraft and let it carry him higher. The fog surrounding Inisfail Fae territory was in place, if slightly thinner.
His spirits plummeted. The thin places were expanding, and faster than before. Without one ruler to unite the magic, it would continue fracturing, and bring more problems on the realm than too many courts in the kingdom.
Balor and his Fomorian army had lost the second war, but Fomorians were nothing if not persistent. Their king, Bres, thought the Raven Throne was his, and he wanted it back.
The Alba Fae Court. Beira, Shisti’s mother ruled them, and none of them had any love for the Morrigan or her family.
The Nordrvegr Court. Ymir coveted power. If that man had his way, the entire world would bow down before him.
Humans. The Fir Bolg. And those were just some of the outside threats. There were as many dangers trapped within the fog that protected the realm. Fechin blew out a weary breath. He was a placeholder, nothing more.
Mother, it would be nice if you could come back and handle some of the messes you left behind.
What had happened to her? She’d vanished from the battlefield near the end of the war, and no one had seen or heard from her since. Surely, if she could get back to Inisfail Fae, she would. So, what, or who, could stop a Goddess of War, Death, and Fate from going where she wanted?
Was she injured somewhere? Held prisoner somehow? His raven would feel it if she was dead. He was torn between the need to protect his mother’s territory, and wanting to leave in order to search for her. Duty had won out every time before. She would expect him to rule in her place. And that meant acting for the best interests of the Fae under his protection.
To strengthen Inisfail Fae, he would have to give Shisti what she wanted. Find a way to create life in a witch made of ice, inside and out. The raven screamed its rage at the idea of bonding with the witch.
Its scream echoed through Inisfail Fae, further shredding the thin places. A tear opened in the sky directly in front of him.
Unable to stop, the raven tumbled through the opening.