‘You can stand trial in The Unseelie Court, but given that you killed Kin, I don’t think you’ll enjoy the result.’
‘The what? What’s The Unseelie Court? And… it would have been self-defence, if I’d even meant to do it. Which I didn’t. He fell on me and the knife, I didn’t mean to kill him.’
Declan rests his hand on my shoulder. ‘I don’t think it’ll matter.’
‘But it should.’ I have never wanted to clench my fists and stomp my feet more than I do right at this moment.
He nods in sympathy, but his answer doesn’t change. And he doesn’t answer my question about The Unseelie Court either. If only I could rewind my life and just refuse to go to that nightclub with Rose. Then none of this would be happening. Everything would be all right.
‘So, unless I agree to go to this Unseelie Court, then I’m a prisoner here?’
He pauses for a moment before he speaks. ‘You sought sanctuary here. Do you really not know where you are?’
I shrug. ‘No, not really. I mean, I know where St Marnox is, but that’s not what you mean, is it?’
‘All of us here, we’ve each been accused of committing a crime. Our accusers had enough evidence to take to The Unseelie Court, and the King, that’s Vincenzo Riali,’ he says and I nod. ‘If either the Court itself or the King is convinced, a hunt is called. The hunt is considered as a sort of trial. If you’re captured and killed, then it proves you were guilty.’
I scoff. ‘Like a witch-hunt?’
‘Quite,’ he agrees. ‘Those lucky enough to reach here can go back, face a proper trial. Those of us who remain here, know we would never be acquitted by The Unseelie Court– either because we really are guilty, or because it suits the current king to believe we are. Much as we all dream of justice, the Court isn’t like it used to be, and we have to accept that the Riali family controls it completely now. We all managed to outrun the Huntsman, or got here before the hunt began, to seek sanctuary. We’re safe here. St Marnox exists in the human world, obviously, but the part that sits in the Underworld– only those granted sanctuary and the Hunters can enter here. And only the Hunters can leave.’
I gasp. ‘Cillian can come here?’
‘Yes, but he can’t harm you within these walls. And he won’t. Once you reach sanctuary, the Huntsman’s duty ends.’
‘Can Vittoria?’
‘No.’
Confusion clouds my thoughts. A million questions running through my mind. Humans, Kinfolk, the Underworld, Vittoria’s family controlling the Court? None of it makes sense. It feels as though I’ve stepped into the pages of a story.
‘Nothing you’re saying makes sense. None of this can be real—’ Except I already know that’s not true. Everything I saw last night was real.
‘There’s so much more than you can even imagine, Niamh.’
I think for a moment, then decide to focus on the most immediate matter.
‘What’s stopping me from leaving?’
‘The only exit leads directly into The Unseelie Court. There’s ageason all of us.’
‘Ageas?’
He tilts his head to one side, observing me. ‘It’s kind of Celtic curse. A magical bond placed on us– one that imprisons us here. If we swim to the far shore, we will simply end up back here on the island. If we go through into the human world and try and leave that way– well, I wouldn’t recommend trying that. When you were granted sanctuary, it came with this consequence.’
‘A consequence no one told me about.’
‘Whether you were aware or not, you asked for sanctuary, and it was granted.’
‘But the causeway?—’
‘Appears and disappears when it wants to,’ he says. ‘Any other questions, or can we go and eat?’
‘Just one. What are the Kinfolk? It means family… in Scots.’
Declan nods, tilting his head to one side as he thinks. ‘Yes, and no. The Gaelic isCinneadh, or “clan” in English, I suppose. But that word has other connotations among the humans. And the concept for us is so much more than the English conveys. It is family, but a family through so much more than blood.
‘The Kinfolk have always been here, Niamh. Before humans, back into the mists of time. They go by many names, come in many guises,’ Declan tells me. ‘The wee folk, the guid folk, the gentle folk, the fae, fairies, even– although that one’s been so twisted that it bears no relation to what we really are, how powerful we really are.’
