The Sun Sídhe

19 - The Price of Greed

Ronan, Aeden, and I must've had the same thought: we all turned to Morrigan. She knew the woman, after all. Best for her to ask the questions. She wilted beneath our stares, but accepted her fate with a grim nod. When she spoke, she raised her voice from her usual quiet murmur to something loud enough to be considered normal speech. I almost felt proud. "Where is the Ándúr Nimh spreading from?"

"Lake Draí," Clídna said.

"The centre of Ríenne. Makes sense." I pressed my palms into the table and stood up. "We've wasted enough time. Let's go."

Clídna lifted a finger, forcing me to pause. "Believe me, you will want to hear more."

"I'm not so sure I do."

"Maeve." Ronan looked at me pleadingly. "Let's hear what she has to say."

With a groan, I flung myself back into my seat. How much longer would we have to sit here, watching this bejewelled woman sip elegantly her wine?

"The lake is only the source. The Ándúr Nimh began with Lún. Lún Lénlir," Clídna continued. "An old fool—and I do mean old. He had lived since the creation of the ocean, as far as any of us knew." She hummed, swirling her cup. "It is a shame his end came so... brutally."

"We know this tale. He's been dead for a century." Aeden rested his chin on one knee, which he'd drawn up to his chest. "How could he be causing this madness?"

"Your confusion is understandable. The soul must return to the earth: this is true for both the aes sídhe and mankind." She gazed at the sky, baring her slim throat and the myriad of necklaces wrapped about it. "But Lún was neither. His spirit lingers still, and it is unforgiving. When he was dying, he must have fled to Natír. His body sunk into the depths of Lake Draí—or our counterpart, at the very least."

She paused to breathe and eat another cherry. Did she intend to consume the whole platter of fruit in front of us? "Lún was a primordial creature; he was not meant to die at the hands of mortals. There are always consequences for such things. A curse bled from his heart into those waters—I assume it was something he created in his anger—and has spread throughout the water and land of the otherworld ever since, slowly enough that most haven't noticed, subtly enough that those who did had no reason to care. This is what we know as the Ándúr Nimh. It's proven... toxic to our kind. It hasn't spread to the mortal realm yet, but I anticipate it would be no kinder to humans."

"So it's a curse," I mumbled, slotting the pieces together in my head. "One foolish old man did all of this?"

"If he could be called a man, yes. Lún was an embodiment of the sea: he held all of its darkness and ferocity. On the other hand, you embody the sun. You're the antithesis of the Ándúr Nimh."

"That's enough," I growled, holding up one hand to stop her. "I'm a sídhe, not some ancient manifestation of the sun. I only draw energy from it."

She nodded. "Which is why you're lucky Lún Lénlir is dead. The sickness you face is merely a ghost of his true power—a lingering curse. Though you are young, your bond to the sun is pure. Any one of our kind can sense that. Your power will be enough to eradicate the Ándúr Nimh."

"That sounds like speculation. How sure of this are you?"

"Quite." Her lips curved upwards. "Of course, Lún's actual spirit will oppose you. I haven't encountered it myself, but I doubt such power is mindless and without aim. As you draw closer to what remains of his heart, he will likely attempt to protect himself."

"You mean to say we'll face the ghost of the ocean?" Ronan had grown pale.

"I mean to say."

"But..." He gnawed on his lip. "If his body—his heart—is the source of this, and that's at the bottom of the lake, how could we possibly reach it?"