The Forgotten Ones

Danaans.
    “Don’t let him fool you. Don’t think for a second that he doesn’t see every move you make.”
    “You really do hate them, don’t you?” I asked, knowing I was crossing some unspoken line but not letting it stop me.
    “I won’t let myself care about them enough to hate them,” he said, leaning back. He crossed his arms and went back to scanning the room.
    Beautiful men and women were scattered around, laughing and dancing, eating and drinking. The women wore dresses similar to mine, floating in flowing jewel-toned gowns of sapphire, amethyst, and emerald. The men wore embroidered tunics in earth tones of moss, bark, and sand with pants tucked into their boots.
    Lights twinkled from the spheres high in the ceiling, sparkling off silver chalices and platters as the sounds of laughter and music mingled in my mind with the scent of ripe fruit and fresh cream. Plates were piled with scones topped with berries ripe enough to burst, and the silver cups were full of a shimmering golden liquid. My senses were overwhelmed—I felt dizzy trying to take in the extravagance of this world.
    When a plate and cup were placed on the table in front of me, Aodhan leaned in to speak in my ear. “Eat only what you must, and drink very little. You don’t want to get a taste for their food; you’ll never want to eat human food again.”
    I stared longingly at my plate, and a voice spoke from behind me.
    “I hope you don’t think I’m rude, Allison,” Deaghlan said smoothly, taking the chair on my other side.
    He chuckled at my startled expression. I wanted so badly to be annoyed by his smugness, but his eyes were so deep and so blue that I couldn’t look away.
    “You’re my guest, and I haven’t paid you any attention,” he went on.
    I pulled my eyes away and focused on the bowls of flowers in the center of the table. “No,” I answered, trying to put an edge in my voice. “I don’t even want to be here, so it doesn’t matter.”
    Deaghlan laughed again, and I knew it was because rather than sounding firm, my words came out shaky.
    “You’ll need to eat and get some sleep so that you’ll be of use to your friend, Allison.”
    The way he said my name caused a shiver to pass through me. I stared down at Aodhan’s fisted hands as they rested on the table. The muscles in his forearms were taut, showing how he reacted to Deaghlan’s presence.
    Aodhan’s face was impassive as ever, but for a moment, I noticed how he watched Niamh across the table. The fire in his eyes skirted between hatred and longing, but as if he sensed me watching him, he went back to scanning the room.
    I needed to get myself away from Deaghlan if I were to be able to think straight. He was too beautiful, painfully so. When I looked at him, every thought I had about my parents and Ethan scattered and all I could do was drown in his eyes. This attraction to Deaghlan and Saoirse, all of the Danaans, was unnatural. But I only realized what was happening when they weren’t speaking to me.
    And I had more important things to worry about. I needed to come up with a way to see Liam and my mother, and save Ethan. And Aodhan was right—not just Deaghlan, but all of the Danaans were watching every single move I made.
    “I need a moment,” I told no one in particular. “I need a woman’s moment,” I said hoping this was enough to keep them from asking any questions.
    Deaghlan smoothed the sleeves of his tunic, only the slightest touch uncomfortable with my words. “Eithne,” he called out, and the girl I’d met in Wheelwright appeared immediately at his side.
    He looked up at her charmingly. “Allison needs assistance. You’ll take care of her, won’t you?”
    Eithne bowed her head at him, and I rose quickly to follow her out of the gathering room. She didn’t meet my eyes as she led me away, which made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I felt like she was afraid of me.
    “Eithne,” I said quietly, stopping as I walked through the entryway with the stone staircase. She stopped in front of me, her sandy-colored hair forming a curtain around her face.
    “Is my...is Liam going to be okay?” I asked.
    She turned partially around, peeking up at me from behind her feathery lashes. “Liam is going to be fine. He had a shard of iron in his wound, which has been removed. He will sleep for another day before his body is healed. And Niall took the iron out of Tír na n’Óg before it did any more damage.”
    I