Iniquity (The Premonition, #5)(88)

Brennus clears his throat. Is dere someting wrong?” he asks me.

“What’s beneath the apse?” I ask.

“Dat would be me archive. Would ye like ta see it?”

Phaedrus scrapes the floor with his fingernails. “Tell him yes.”

“Yes,” I relay to Brennus. The Gancanagh king waves his gloved hand in a graceful gesture. The floor beneath Phaedrus moves. The Virtue flies upward as a passage in the floor unfolds to reveal a set of descending stairs.

“You do love your tunnels,” I murmur.

“Dat is someting da religious clergy and I have in common. Maybe na da only ting.” Phaedrus does not ask for an invitation to the world below. He lands in front of the stairs and descends. We follow him down into an elaborate round stone chamber connected to several hallways that lead away from it in a sunburst pattern. Thousands of magical Faerie weapons line the walls of this room. Gleaming glass cases, like coffins, display shiny metal daggers, swords, and axes. They’re masterpieces that have forgotten how to sing. In the center of the circular room, I recognize Brennus’ Faerie armor; it holds the long battle-axe that he gave to me. I walk to the armor and touch it. It feels cold and lonely—the most extraordinary things usually are. It’s the consequence of being timeless.

Finn is beside me. On my other side, Phaedrus passes his hands over the armor next to Brennus’ armor. I grasp the etched silver and gold shaft of the battle-axe Brennus made so long ago. The metal vibrates and comes to life. Its music whispers to me a concerto of hope.

“This.” Phaedrus sighs with relief as sweat falls from his brow. He holds a battle hammer that has two faces. One side is a hammerhead; the other is sharper and sickle-shaped. The Virtue extends the weapon for me to take. My eyes widen in surprise. It’s Finn’s. I glance at him. His pale-green eyes connect with mine and I know. It’s always been Finn. He’s here for a purpose and his brother wouldn’t let him fall alone. Brennus came to help him.

I touch the sculptured silver; it’s like the living dead. It has been waiting forever for me to be born—for me to come for them both. As my fingers move over it, the weapon begins to sing. It’s not the elegant song of Brennus’ weapon. No, this one has a beat meant for crushing. Finn’s eyes squeeze closed when he hears its music. He drops down to one knee in front of me, bowing his head. “Me queen,” he says in a reverent voice. “I am yours to command.”

“Finn.” I rest his battle hammer against his ancient armor. Placing my hand on Finn’s shoulder, the heavy fabric feels wet from melted snow. He looks up at me and I gesture for him to stand.

He does. Getting to his feet, he says, “I made dis for ye—many, many years ago, Genevieve, before ye were ever born.”

“Why?”

“Dere once was a young Faerie prince from a powerful family—he was a de Graham. At da time, dere were Faeries aplenty in da world and everyone knew da name. One day, an aingeal appeared ta dis prince. Da Cherub told da lad a tale of epic adventure. He said dis prince would face a terrible demon and fall to him. He told da lad he would suffer for his sacrifice, but in return, da demon would be slayed and his family would have peace. So dis prince agreed ta meet dis terrible demon, Aodh. He agreed ta sacrifice his life and da light of his soul for his family. Da aingeal told him dat one day a queen would come and she would rescue him from da horror of Sheol. Do ye know who dat lad was?”

“You.”

“Me. Da aingeal’s name was Atwater.”

“Atwater? Brennus’ guardian angel?”

“Da very same.”

“Why you?” I ask. “Why not Brennus?”

“Why me? Because I can make a wicked weapon, Genevieve. But, ye’re wrong about one ting. ’Tis Brennus, too. Atwater lied ta me. He told me dat me family would be safe. But dat didn’t happen. Instead, he recruited me brudder as well for dis mission.”

“How long have you waited for me?” I whisper in anguish.

“Too long,” Finn replies.

I look from Finn to Brennus. There is sorrow in the king of the Gancanagh’s eyes. I gaze at the battle hammer next to me. “Do you know what it can do?” I ask, running my hand over the metal again. It sings some more. I lift my hand and the melody stops.

“It can kill anyting ye swing it at,” Finn replies. “Anyting.”

Brennus comes closer to us. Finn growls a warning at him. Brennus stops. He’s stunned by the aggressive response from his brother. “Finn?”

“Ye’ll na interfere wi’ her mission. I’ll na allow it,” Finn responds, his body rigid, ready to strike at anyone who gets too close to me.

“’Tis na me intention ta interfere, Finn,” Brennus replies. “I’m here ta help as well. I want her ta live more dan anyone.”

“Evie,” Reed says softly, extending his hand to me in a nonthreatening way, indicating that I should move to him. He wants to extract me from in between them. Finn turns his attention to Reed and narrows his eyes, assessing his threat level. Finn growls at my aspire, apparently finding something amiss in Reed as well.

“Finn,” I say, touching his arm. “It’s okay. We’re all here for the same purpose.”

“I’m na all here,” he says, and the torturous depths in his eyes make my heart squeeze and ache for him. “Ye’ve come ta fix dat.” A shiver runs through me to my marrow.