Cillian leaned forward, settling his elbows on his knees, those disarming blue eyes twinkling like this was all some fun adventure. “It was foretold that a woman trapped in a magical tower would become the prince’s bride. Do you know of any other women trapped in magical towers?”
My mouth dropped open and so did Morton’s.
“That can’t be... you’re mistaken.” I shot to my feet, heart hammering, head feeling woozy at the thought of being the leader of an entire kingdom. I could barely lead myself. “This was a mistake,” I said and spun on my heel, not sure where I could even go.
“You have nowhere to go,” came Wolfe’s low, irritated voice, as sharp as his blade. “Your tower is gone, and if you were alone there, I suspect that means you don’t have anybody in this world to take you in. We can take you in. We can give you a home. Safety.”
That word. That stupid word struck a chord straight to my heart. A home. It sounded so appealing, and it was the only thing that caused me to sink back down and give their proposition a chance.
Wolfe was right, of course. There was no tower to go back to, nowhere for me to go.
“You probably could’ve said that in a nicer way.” Cillian cut another glare at Wolfe, who hunched over, still sharpening his blade.
“Why is this prophecy so important?” Morton asked, the question bringing me back to the present, out of my cluttered mind. “Why do you so badly need Niamh as your queen?”
Cillian blew out a long breath and shoved a hand through his hair. It fell right back into place like he hadn’t touched it at all. “Have you ever heard of Fairwitch Isle?”
Both Morton and I shook our heads.
“That’s because we’ve kept it that way. Those of us who live there.” He frowned. “Actually, we don’t have a lot to do with it. Fairwitch Castle has magic, powerful magic, much like your tower, that keeps it hidden from the world. Safe.”
That word again. It tugged at my heart, beckoned me toward it, and I leaned forward.
“But,” Cillian said, “the magic is weakening. We’ve been getting attacks from magical creatures, objects. We think the brotherhood is behind them.”
The Brotherhood of Magic. My chest snapped tight, air wrung out. The brotherhood were becoming more dangerous, more powerful, and it sounded like they were planning to do to Fairwitch what they’d done to my home. And in that case, I was absolutely not the right person to become Fairwitch Isle’s queen, their leader.
I could just hear Ashami’s concerned voice in my ear.Are you sure about this, Niamh? It’ll be a lot of responsibility. A lot of stress, and I don’t want you to overexert yourself.
“So what does that have to do with Niamh?” Morton asked.
“Right.” Cillian clapped his hands together. “I hadn’t been able to figure out why our magic was failing, has been failing since I took over as high prince, but once I heard the prophecy, it all became clear.”
Morton’s brows furrowed, and I didn’t blame him. I was just as confused.
“Fairwitch wants a queen. Once Niamh becomes that queen, our magic will be fixed. She’s who the prophecy was referring to. She’s who the magic wants.” He smiled proudly like he’d solved some complicated puzzle.
I massaged my chest, trying to loosen some air. He couldn’t be right. The prophecy couldn’t be talking about me. But if it was... it would mean a home. It would mean no longer being on my own. I didn’t have to be some great warrior. I’d surely have guards. I’d have castle walls to protect me. I bit my lip.
“You aren’t actually considering this?” Morton whispered in my ear. “This is definitely going to end with us murdered in a shed somewhere. They’re insane. You’re not going to marry some prince. There’s no prophecy.”
On the one hand, this could be a farce, though I didn’t understand why they’d go to the trouble to make something like this up. Unless Morton was right and they were raving mad. I had read books about killers who had very elaborate schemes to draw in their victims. The scheming and planning and ruses were the exciting part for the killers, like the appetizer leading up to the grand meal. I gulped at the thought of all of this leading to me getting chopped into tiny pieces. Then again, if I didn’t go with them, the options weren’t much better. I couldn’t hunt, couldn’t build a shelter, had no money, nowhere to go. I glanced down at the tips of my fingers, turning blue, and shivered from the cold wind nipping at me. I needed a cloak. I needed to breathe.
“We really need to go,” Wolfe said, setting the rock down, those dark eyes setting upon me. “So make your decision. Either you’re coming or you’re not.”
“Of course she’s coming,” Cillian said, arching a brow.
I twisted my hands together in my lap, looking at Morton. “We’re going to end up dead anyway,” I whispered. “Or worse.”
“There are worse things than death?” Morton hissed.
Believing this fantastical tale came with risks, but if it was true, I could get the protection I needed to survive. I could possibly find another home, and this one could be filled with people and warmth and safety. I wasn’t sure I deserved any of those things, but that also didn’t mean I deserved to die out here alone.
I blew out a breath. “Fine. I’ll go with you to Fairwitch Isle, but I don’t know if I’ll be your queen. If I don’t like the situation, I can leave it at any time.”
Surely if I didn’t want to become queen, I could just say no and stay there anyway.
“Yes! Wonderful.” Cillian stood and clapped his hands together, then glanced up at the sinking sun. “We can camp here for the night, and we’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
