Reyna frowned, but Nollaig had already begun to turn the focus of the conversation back to the matter at hand. “I hesitate to ask this, Tarrah. I truly do. But haveyouhad any recent Unseelie visions?”
“No, I have not, and I hope I never do again,” she replied hotly.
Reyna drew back, shocked. Tarrah had only ever seemed devoted and dedicated to her god’s cause. She had been awe-inspired by him. Her tone had always been one of wonder, and she’d insisted time and time again that he was nothing like the tales suggested.
An image flashed in her mind’s eye, one of Tarrah and Nollaig, one of Teutas crumbling to the ground. She had seen the way Tarrah had looked at him. There had been love there.
“My father is a delusional liar,” Lorcan said. “I don’t know why he wants us to go to Inishfall, but it won’t be for the reason he says. It’s likely a death trap for us all.”
“I want to go,” Reyna said suddenly.
The room fell into an awkward silence. She knew what they must be thinking, that she was as mad as the king. Maybe she was.
“I don’t know if I believe the king. In fact, I mostly don’t.” She glanced from face to face, seeing concern written in their eyes. Or hood, as it were. “But I think Tarrah has proven that these visions can sometimes be real. That doesn’t mean the king is having them or that he even truly understands what he sees. But there’s a chance that there is some truth hidden in the middle of all this. Maybe Inishfall is nothing but a trap. Or maybe it does hold the key to stopping the Ruin. I have to go see what’s there.”
“That’s how I feel, too,” Tarrah whispered fiercely. “The Ruin destroyedeverything. We have to find a way to stop it from doing any more harm.”
Lorcan expelled a heavy sigh. “I really don’t like this, but if it’s what you want to do, Reyna, then I’ll stand by your side.”
They all turned to Nollaig, who merely chuckled. “You lot keep forgetting something. Youhaveto go to Inishfall. Two of you don’t have any other choice. For now.” Nollaig pushed open the door and vanished into the corridor. “See you first thing on the morrow. We should leave at once.”
“For now?” Reyna asked, frowning at the door. “What do you mean, ‘for now’?”
But Reyna got no answer. Letting out a frustrated growl, she stormed into the corridor. But the hooded fae was gone. Lorcan stepped up to her side, towering over her like a strong and steady tree amidst a storm.
“What did she mean?” Reyna repeated.
“I don’t think we’ll get an answer to that,” he said quietly. “Not until she wants us to know.”
* * *
They left at first light. Tarrah met them in the strategy room, her hair all a tangle around her face. She’d stayed up half the night, drawing a route from Findius down through the Misty Wastes, and into the Dorcha Mountains. There, she insisted, their company would find a portal that would lead them into Inishfall.
Segonax had joined them to glance over the plan. He looked about as convinced as everyone else. “I have never heard of a portal to Inishfall inside of the shadow fae realms.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” Tarrah argued, propping fisted hands on her waist. “There are a great many a thing in the world that you have never heard of.”
“I daresay I know quite a bit more about the world than you.” He crossed his arms stubbornly over his armored chest.
“Not about this. Not about magic.”
“Hmph,” he replied.
Tarrah turned her way. “What do you think, Shieldmaiden Reyna?”
“I think I hope we don’t get trapped,” she said frankly.
Inishfall was, as most of the realm knew, a strange and terrible place. Few had ever seen it, and even fewer still had lived to tell the tale. It had been a very long time since anyone had journeyed to Inishfall. It could only be accessed through magic, and as magic had vanished from Tir Na Nog, so had the ability to get there.
However, the trickiest thing about Inishfall was not how one got there. It was how one left. For many years before the Fall, the island in the southern seas had been used as a prison. While anyone could travel there by using the right kind of magic, no one could leave, not unless the power protecting the lands deemed one worthy and ready to be freed.
And most prisoners were never deemed worthy. Inishfall had become home to the worst of the fae throughout the history of Tir Na Nog. Luckily, it had been over a century, and most would be dead after so many years spent trapped in that place.
“We aren’t being sentenced with anything. We’re no one’s prisoners,” Tarrah said. “There is no reason for the island to decide to trap us there.”
Reyna exchanged a weighted glance with Lorcan. “I’m not so certain your king would agree.”
“The island has only ever trapped the worst of our kind,” Nollaig said. “Monstrous lords and tyrant kings. Murderers. Cannibals. Some kings tried to send their enemies there, but not every enemy is evil. The island always spits the good fae right back out.”
