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The Forgotten Ones

The Forgotten Ones

Titel: The Forgotten Ones
Autoren: Laura Howard
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imprison Aoife plan.”
    “Saoirse let you go?” That made no sense. Why would Saoirse let Aoife just go free? She’d admitted to the trouble her daughter caused and the harm it did.
    “Tell me where Liam is”—with a frustrated huff, Aoife’s eyes flickered to Ethan—“and I won’t harm a hair on this boy’s pretty little head.”
    “Liam is lying in a bed unconscious right now because one of your crazy guards stabbed him with an iron blade.”
    A flash of concern showed in her eyes before she rearranged her features into a coy smile.
    “I must admit, Samantha…this is an exquisite human you’ve got here,” Aoife said as she ran her eyes down Ethan’s exposed chest.
    “Samantha?” I asked. “Who’s Samantha?”
    Her eyes darted to mine. “Isn’t that what the humans named you?”
    “My name is Allison.”
    “Hmm, no matter.” Aoife blinked. “Come, we must get you back home to Thunder Bay before Liam wakes up. I’ll deal with him then.”
    “What are you talking about?” I asked.
    “I need you out of Tír na n’Óg before Liam wakes up. Breanh was a fool for bringing you here, but once you’re back in Thunder Bay I can straighten everything out.”
    “Straighten what out?” I asked. “I don’t understand.”
    “I have lost the upper hand with Liam. He can’t find out about you, too. Humans are sentimental about their children. He’ll wonder why I never told him about you.” She waved her hand dismissively.
    A faint buzz began in my ears at her words. I could hear Eithne sobbing that I must forget everything she had said, and then it all clicked. Aoife had given birth to Liam’s child. Another child. And, like Eithne, Aoife thought I was her.
    A pinpoint of hope ignited in my heart as I looked at Aoife’s waiting expression. “I don’t live in Thunder Bay. I’m not your daughter, either. My mother is Elizabeth. And she is with Liam right now, nursing him back to health.”
    Just as her lips parted in understanding, Aoife grabbed me by the throat. I struggled against her, but she had a firm grip as she pulled me to her face.
    “I will enjoy killing you, then.”
    I tried to speak, but her fingers were crushing my windpipe. Frantically, I fumbled along my belt for my dagger. Stars were dancing in front of my eyes as I pulled it out of the sheath and, with all my strength, stabbed it into her side.
    Aoife cried out, and let go of my throat. I coughed and gasped, my lungs desperate for air. She tilted her head to one side and laughed cruelly.
    “He’ll never love you if you kill his child,” I croaked. I knew it was a stretch, but I had to use her obsession with Liam against her; it was my only chance.
    Indecision played across her features. “He’ll never know it was me,” she hedged.
    From somewhere close I could hear the pounding of footsteps and a deep voice calling my name.
    Aoife’s eyes grew wide with panic as she scanned around the room. “Who else knows you’re here?”
    “Aodhan came here with me.” I barely recognized the sound of my own voice.
    Aoife grabbed a fistful of my t-shirt, pulling me toward her again. “You won’t say a word of this to anyone,” she whispered, her eyes boring into mine.
    I licked my lips and nodded, feeling a little strange as I watched her pupils dilate. A word, never a word to anyone.
    Then, with a glance over her shoulder, Aoife disappeared.
    Seconds later, Aodhan charged into the room, looking around in alarm. When his eyes settled on me, I sunk down onto the bed. The adrenaline that had been coursing through my body had fled, leaving me drained.
    Aodhan looked down at Breanh lying in a heap on the floor and back up at me. I let him draw whatever conclusions he would. It was easier at that point than trying to come up with a story of my own.
    “Well,” he said, a tiny smile playing at his lips as he walked over to where I sat with Ethan. “It looks like you didn’t need me after all.”

I sat in the chair like my mother had the night before to watch my father sleep. Ethan now lay in his place.
    His eyes were closed, and his breaths even. There was a shadow on his cheeks. I’d never seen him with stubble before—if I didn’t know better I’d think he was just sleeping.
    But I did know better.
    Aodhan had carried him all the way back to the Bruidhean. He’d used mind magic to get Ethan to sleep, but the glazed expression on his face was still vivid in my memory. I forced myself not to think about the Danaan
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