Iwas torn. Torn between following Rogan, his princess, and her retinue to whatever Folk revel they attended tonight, or stepping out beneath the staring moon, walking toward the fort glimmering like a dream atop the hill, and hopingheshowed up.
I would eventually have to meet Eala. She had knowledge of the Treasures, information about her captor, and insights into breaking her geas. But facing my dazzling double—the princess who cast the light my shadow lived in—was still more terrifying than facing the Gentry guard who’d twice come close to killing me. Both prospects made my insides churn. But pursuing the Treasure was my priority. Mother would wish me to put that above all else.
Besides, the idea of watching Rogan woo the girl he’d always been meant to marry made me want to stab something.
So I hid beneath the trees as the swan maidens magically draped themselves in jewel-toned satins and luxurious furs and braided bright sprigs of berries into their hair. The night air was brisk, with a luminous clarity that made me think of giant fires, spiced breads, buckets of dark ale, and mistletoe over doorways. I wondered—were the Folk’s winter revels anything like our human parties?
It didn’t matter. This year, there’d be none of that for me. I waited for the girls to disappear, laughing and chattering into the night. Then I steeled myself to step out, beneath the staring moon, toward the sinister fortress.
I’d barely put one toe outside the wood when a hand squirreled into the crook of my elbow and yanked. I stumbled backward, falling on my arse in the snow. I yelped, although the wound was more to my ego than my backside. I glared up into the incredulous face of the girl I’d saved from the lough.
Chandika.
“Do you have a death wish?” She put both hands on her hips. “Or are you just stupid?”
“Excuse me?” I spluttered.
“Jumping into freezing lakes populated with killer murúcha? Tromping out into the open to get yourself slaughtered by the Gentry?” She narrowed her amber eyes at me. “You’ve already painted quite a picture of your personality. And I don’t even know your name yet.”
“Fia.” I climbed to my feet and brushed snow off my backside. Then promptly remembered every story Cathair had told me about the Folk. “But don’t even think about asking for my full name. I wouldn’t trust anyone here with that.”
She clearly found this funny; her grin revealed a lovely set of wide, even teeth. “Oh, that doesn’t matter as much as they’d have you believe. Besides, I’m human—I couldn’t use your name against you even if I wanted to. It’s a pretty name, though. Mine’s Chandika, although everyone calls me Chandi.”
“Chandika,” I repeated, rolling the syllables over my tongue. “Pardon my asking, but where are you from? You don’t look like anyone I’ve ever met in Fódla.”
“No idea,” Chandi told me nonchalantly. “I was so little when I was taken. The name isn’t even my real name—one of my sisters remembered it from a story and decided it suited me.”
Her words woke a melancholy within me. I didn’t remember whereI’d come from either. Not my name, my parents… who I’d been or how I’d lived. I’d been eight or so when I’d been abandoned to the queen’s care—an entire childhood had been lost to me. “I’m sorry.”
“Did you imagine it was a holiday being kidnapped into the realm of the Folk for twelve years? Transformed into a swan every day?” Her cheerfulness didn’t match her dire words. “It’s really not so bad. If I don’t know who I am, I can be anybody. I like to pretend I’m the long-lost daughter of foreign royalty instead of the youngest, ugliest, and most annoying of twelve unrelated sisters.”
“You’re hardly ugly.”
“But you agree I’m annoying.” Chandi twinkled.
“Hard to tell.” I shrugged, hiding a smile. “You do talk a lot. And you still haven’t thanked me for saving your life in the lough. At great cost to my own health and well-being, I might add. That’s pretty annoying.”
She stuck out her tongue at me. “So which is it?”
She’d lost me. “What?”
“Are you stupid?” She made an expressive gesture at the snow-draped fort. “Or are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“It’s… a long story.” I decided to try Chandi’s technique of abruptly changing the subject. “What areyoudoing here?”
“I live here.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “I just saw eleven older, prettier, and less annoying girls go swanning into the woods wearing velvet and fur. You’re wearing…nothing.” Which was true. And disconcerting, even if her long black hair hid most of her pertinent bits. “Won’t you get scolded for being late again?”
“For once, I’m actually not late.” She was gleeful. “I’ve been sent to bring a guest.”
“Who?” I asked, with a glance at the fort. “And to what?”
“You, of course,” said Chandi. “You’re coming with me to the Feis of the Nameless Day.”
I crossed my arms even as curiosity flashed through me. “And why would I do that?”
“Because tonight, I promise to speak freely. And I suspect you need at least one person in this accursed place to tell you the truth.”
