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.*SWORD OF LUGH, THE: Seelie or Light Hallow, also known as the Sword of Light, a SeelieHallow capable of killing Fae, both Seelie and Unseelie.Currently, Rowena has it, and dispatches it tohersidhe -seers at PHI as she deems fit.Dani usually gets it.Addendum:Saw it.It s beautiful!TABH RS: (TAH-vr) Fae doorways or portals between realms, often hidden in everyday human Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlobjects.TUATHADÉDANAAN ORTUATHADÉ: (TUA day dhanna or Tua DAY) (SeeFae above) A highlyadvanced race that came to Earth from another world, comprising the Seelie and Unseelie.UNSEELIE: The dark or fouler court of the Tuatha Dé Danaan.According to Tuatha Dé Danaanlegend, the Unseelie have been confined for hundreds of thousands of years in an inescapable prison.Inescapable, my ass.V LANE: According to Rowena s books, V lane is a Seelie Prince, Court of the Light, member of theQueen s High Council, and sometimes Consort.He is a death-by-sex Fae and has been trying to get meto work for him on behalf of Queen Aoibheal to locate theSinsar Dubh.VOICE: A Druid art or skill that compels the person it s being used on to precisely obey the letter ofwhatever command is issued.Both the Lord Master and Barrons have used this on me.It s terrifying.Itshuts down your will, and makes you a slave.You stare helplessly out from your own eyes and watchyour body doing things your mind is screaming at younot to do.I m trying to learn it.At least to be ableto resist it, because otherwise I ll never be able to get close enough to the Lord Master to kill him, andget vengeance for Alina.*Denotes a Light or Dark HallowPART ONE_________________________Before Dawn I keep expecting to wake up and find it was all a bad dream.Alina will be alive,I won t be afraid of the dark,Monsters won t be walking the streets of Dublin,And I won t have this terrible fear that tomorrow dawn just won t come. Mac s journal Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlPART TWO____________________The Darkest HourNightfall. What a strange word. Night I get.But fall is a gentle word.Autumn leaves fall, swirling with languid graceTo carpet the earth with their dying blaze.Tears fall, like liquid diamondsShimmering softly, before they melt away.Night doesn t fall here.It comes slamming down. Mac s journalPART THREE___________________Dawn Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Turned out I was wrong.It wasn t the dark I should have been afraid of, at all. Mac s journalPrologueI d die for him.No, wait a minute.that s not where this is supposed to begin.I know that.But left to my own devices, I d prefer to skim over the events of the next few weeks, andwhisk you through those days with glossed-over details that cast me in a more flattering light.Nobody looks good in their darkest hour.But it s those hours that make us what we are.We standstrong, or we cower.We emerge victorious, tempered by our trials, or fractured by a permanent,damning fault line.I never used to think about things like darkest hours and trials and fault lines.I used to fill my days with sunning and shopping, bartending at The Brickyard (always more of a partythan a job, and that was how I liked my life), and devising ways to con Mom and Dad into helping mebuy a new car.At twenty-two, I was still living at home, safe in my sheltered world, lulled by the sleepy,slow-paddling fans of the Deep South into believing myself the center of it.Then my sister, Alina, was brutally murdered while studying abroad in Dublin, and my world changedovernight.It was bad enough that I had to identify her mutilated body, and watch my once happy familyshatter, but my world didn t stop falling apart there.It didn t stop until I d learned that pretty mucheverything I d been raised to believe about myself wasn t true.I discovered that my folks weren t my real parents; my sister and I were adopted; and despite my lazy,occasionally overblown drawl, we weren t southern at all, but descended from an ancient Celticbloodline ofsidhe -seers, people who can see the Fae a terrifying race of otherworldly beings that havelived secretly among us for thousands of years, cloaked in illusions and lies.Thosewere the easy lessons. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlThe hard lessons were yet to come, waiting for me in thecraic -filled streets of the Temple Bar Districtof Dublin, where I would watch people die, and learn to kill; where I would meet Jericho Barrons,V lane, and the Lord Master; where I would step up to the plate as a major player in a deadly game withfate-of-the-world stakes.For those of you just joining me, my name is MacKayla Lane, Mac for short.My real last name mightbe O Connor, but I don t know that for sure.I m asidhe -seer, one of the most powerful that s everlived.Not only can I see the Fae, I can hurt them and, armed with one of their most sacred Hallows theSpear of Luin, or Destiny I can even kill the immortal beings.Don t settle into your chair and relax.It s not just my world that s in trouble; it s your world, too.It shappening, right now, while you re sitting there, munching a snack, getting ready to immerse yourself in afictional escape.Guess what? It s not fiction, and there s no escape.The walls between the human worldand Faery are coming down and I hate to break it to you, but these fairies areso not Tinkerbells.If the walls crash completely.well, you d just better hope they don t.If I were you, I d turn on all mylights right now.Get out a few flashlights.Check your supply of batteries.I came to Dublin for two things: to find out who killed my sister, and to get revenge.See how easily Ican say that now? I want revenge.Revenge with a capitalR.Revenge with crushed bones and a lot ofblood.I want her murderer dead, preferably by my own hand.A few months here and I ve shedyears ofpolished southern civilities.Shortly after I stepped off the plane from Ashford, Georgia, and planted my well-pedicured foot onIreland s shore, I probably would have died if I hadn t stumbled into a bookstore owned by JerichoBarrons.Who or what he is, I have no idea.But he has knowledge that I need, and I have something hewants, and that makes us reluctant allies.When I had no place to turn, Barrons took me in, taught me who and what I am, opened my eyes, andhelped me survive.He didn t do it nicely, but I no longer care how I survive, as long as I do.Because it was safer than my cheap room at the inn, I moved in to his bookstore.It s protected againstmost of my enemies with wards and assorted spells, and stands bastion at the edge of what I call a DarkZone: a neighborhood that has been taken over by Shades, amorphous Unseelie that thrive in darknessand suck the life from humans.We ve battled monsters together.He s saved my life twice.We ve shared a taste of dangerous lust.He s after theSinsar Dubh a million-year-old book of the blackest magic imaginable, scribed by theUnseelie King himself, that holds the key to power over both the worlds of Fae and Man.I want itbecause it was Alina s dying request that I find it, and I suspect it holds the key to saving our world.He says he wants it because he collects books.Right.V lane is another story.He s a Seelie prince, and a death-by-sex Fae, which you ll be learning moreabout soon enough.The Fae consist of two adversarial courts with their own Royal Houses and uniquecastes: the Light or Seelie Court, and the Dark or Unseelie Court.Don t let the light and dark stuff foolyou.Both are deadly
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