“The Forever King’s refusal to heed the warning of his depleting magick and abdicate created a rift between him and Lugid. The Forever King, in an attempt to assert control and stop him from revealing his misdeeds, had Lugid’s entire family killed. Lugid managed to escape assassination and returned the favor by killing the Forever King’s family. He left Mabh alive because she was pregnant and he still had a conscience,” I say without needing to read the book.

“Ah, look,” Tinder says. “The book speaks of Mabh’s actions. She…” Tinder trails off and looks at me.

“She broke me in two and used me as a vessel for the HeartStone,” I say with a brevity I do not feel. “But, see, the book doesn’t call her the monarch of Talamh. Nuala, the eldest daughter of the Forever King, retains the title.”

“Nuala?” Tinder frowns. “Didn’t Nuala die?”

“She’s not dead. She was just turned into a stone maiden.”

“If you are Aodh and Mabh’s daughter, then who am I?” Ceara suddenly asks, as if the question has just occurred to her.

“Do you really want to know?” I ask carefully. The Fire Princess narrows her eyes at my words, then shakes her head.

“I think I already do,” she whispers, something orange flickering in her eyes, something that looks a lot like rage. I know the feeling well.

“Do you know how all monarchs have titles besides their names? Like the Forever King and the Robber Queen?” Tinder says, ignoring the undercurrents in the air. She smiles grimly. “Mabh should have one too.”

“What do you think it ought to be?” I smile at Tinder.

“The False Queen. Fitting, don’t you think?”

“Indeed. She should love it.” I turn toward the forest, my attention caught by the sound of nearing footsteps. I will recognize these steps anywhere. Ceara and Tinder stiffen beside me, alert to danger, as the Hag emerges from the forest.

When I see her, I remember Uaine and the apathy in her eyes. I remember how she manipulated me, and I, fool that I was, danced to her tune without even knowing my feet were moving. The fire in me burns hotter, and I get to my feet. The time that has passed since I last saw the Hag is less than a month, but now I am as tall as her. She, who was a mountain to me, has become nothing more than a hill I can walk over.

“Hello, Blanaid,” I say to her, and watch with pleasure as she flinches at the name. She can’t be entirely bereft of emotion if she reacts to her name. “It has been quite a while since we last saw each other. Have you missed me?”

She doesn’t answer.

“What am I saying? How could you miss me? You have no heart.” I take a step closer toward her, and the scent of the forest fills me. “Shall I grow you a new one?”

The magick within me comes alive at my words as if aware of my desires. I see through the Hag’s wood and stone body to the damaged SoulSeed nested artificially in her chest. A curl of magick holds the SoulSeed together. I don’t even need words to command the magick in me. One thought and the magick shapes itself like an arrow, plunging into the Hag’s body, filling her SoulSeed, repairing it.