She gave him a look. “You truly expect me to believe that Fomorians actually came over from their empire simply to chase after a small fae boy?”
No onehad ever seen a Fomorian. No one alive, at least. There were stories, of course, just as there were stories of dragons once soaring through the skies. The tales would have one believe that every year Fomorians flew across their churning sea on wings spun from gold. They would steal horses from village stables, and then ride through the night, killing every soul they met along the way. And then, at dawn, they would slaughter the horses and eat their hearts before returning to their empire across the sea.
But those were just tales told to children to keep them from running through the fields or woods at night. The Empire of Fomor traded with the courts of Tir Na Nog. If the Fomorians enjoyed brutally slaughtering the fae, then why would they sell their wares to them?
“They do so every year,” Lorcan said quietly, his dark eyes flashing. “At Beltane.”
“Then, why has no one ever seen this? Except for you, of course.”
“Because they kill every single soul who sets eyes on them.”
She shook her head and laughed. “Except for a small boy who somehow outran him.”
“I am not lying,” he said, grinding his teeth together.
She regarded him carefully. When a moment before his face had been a blank slate, his eyes held a darkness now. “No, I don’t believe you are. You may, however, be mistaken. A dream or a nightmare, perhaps. Or someone was playing a trick. You were young, you might not have understood what you truly saw.”
“I know what I saw, and I know what they were.” His intense gaze locked with hers. “I stayed out late. Far too late. It was Beltane, and I should have known better, but I enjoyed being out in the fields. The Fomorians appeared, moon casting a yellow glow behind their shadowy forms. They came for me. I ran, faster than I have ever run, even since then, even on small legs that trembled with every step. At some point, they vanished from behind me. They let me live. I do not know why, but they did.”
Reyna shivered. There was so much truth and conviction in his words. Before, she thought he had only been playing around, inventing some grand adventure to entertain her and Eislyn around the fire. But this was no fun story, sung by a bard.
It felt real and dark. And terrifying.
“But why?” she whispered. “They trade with us. And they’ve never sent their armies to our shores.”
Lorcan merely shook his head. “If I knew the answers to those questions, Reyna, I would be telling them to the entire world. But do you not think it is odd how extreme they are in their dealings with us? How secretive they are about their own world?”
“They’re a different culture,” she whispered, though Reyna had always thought it odd. The Fomorians allowed trade between the continents, but they only did so under the strict agreement that the Tir Na Nog fae would never step foot on Fomorian land. Their ships, manned by humans, met the ships of the courts on the islands between. Anyone who ever tried to go further was never seen again.
Reyna considered Lorcan in a new light. Did this explain the hardness in his eyes, the strict set of his jaw? He held his well-muscled frame in such a way that made him seem closed off and cold at times. He had seen something that no other living fae had ever seen. Something dark and cruel and terrible. Reyna could relate. Perhaps they were far more alike than she had realized.
“The Ruin attacked a village when I was young. Fifteen years ago, my mother, Eislyn, and I went to visit our people. There had been a blight on the crops, during the continent-wide dust storm that happens every six years. We went to offer some hope.” Reyna’s breath shuddered as she exhaled, images of that fateful night flashing through her mind. “Wingallock soared in, screeching. I have never heard him make that sound, not before then or after. It was the first time he or I had ever seen the Ruin, and he was terrified.”
Reyna lifted her eyes. Lorcan was staring at her, his face softening as she spoke.
“Before any of us knew what was happening, the Ruin attacked. Big black flakes that fell from the sky. Like snow, but…heavier, darker, and full of a pulsing kind of evil that made even the strongest warriors fall. Eislyn and I were standing right beside my mother when the flakes hit her.”
She stopped, shutting her eyes tight. Several hot tears slipped through her lids and trailed down her cheeks.
“I am sorry,” Lorcan said, his tone earnest and much less guarded than it had been seconds before. “It was a terrible thing that happened to you. But it has made you the fighter that you are.”
Reyna opened her eyes, and understanding passed between them. He had stared darkness in the face and so had she. Somehow, they had both survived even when everyone else around them had fallen. It had made them hard. It had made fury fill their souls. Reyna felt as if she now stared into a mirror. He understood her, something that no one else had done in a very long while.
Lorcan suddenly cleared his throat and shifted on the cold ground. He glanced away, jaw clenching. “Prince Thane should be here any moment. It is almost nightfall.”
Reyna blinked and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Why was she being so foolish? She hadn’t cried in years. And her thoughts had betrayed her. Lorcan, the warrior, understanding her? Even if that were the case, she needed to rid herself of those thoughts. She had come here to marry Prince Thane and take the throne from the Air Court. If the prince suspected that she felt even a stirring toward his own personal guard, he’d send her right back home again.
Not that those stirrings meant anything. She had only gotten caught up in the moment. They were trapped inside a cage together, held captive by an enemy court. It had meant nothing. Anyone would feel a connection in that scenario.
Still, she could not stop her mind from drifting back to that moment in the woods when she had kissed him. That had been a charade, of course, but there had been a brief moment when she’d forgotten everything but how his mouth felt against her skin. She had wanted to get lost in the moment, to forget about the assassin tracking her down.
She needed to get out of this cage.
39
Eislyn
Eislyn padded through the castle halls, as quiet as a mouse. She did not know where she was or where she was going, but she did know that danger lurked in every corner.
