Reyna’s stomach twisted. “Did you say they’d like toeatus?”
“Cannibals are not as uncommon as you’d think in the shadow lands,” he replied grimly. “Fae get desperate when there is a shortage of food. Very few crops grow under the misty skies. If they cannot find land to grow potatoes or enough coin to buy them…they turn to flesh.”
“Wonderful,” Reyna replied, whistling to bring Wingallock back to her side. She would not risk her owl being shot down for a meal.
Indeed, the mists had swiftly returned with its sticky embrace. The night under the stars had been the only relief. Once again, darkness clogged the skies and rained down mist, forever smudging every rock in their path.
It had made navigation difficult, particularly when it came time to judge east from west. Reyna had learned to read the skies, to understand the constellations. They always guided the way. Here, she felt blind.
“How have they managed to track us when it’s impossible to see any further than that rock up there?” Reyna asked, pointing at a large boulder steeped in shadows.
“When you live in the mists all your life, you soon learn how to follow a trail without using your eyes,” Nollaig replied cryptically.
“And how didyouknow we have hunters? How did you spot them?” she tried.
“I have my own set of skills, and those I do not plan on divulging to anyone.”
“One day, I’m going to figure out who you are, Nollaig.”
“You may very well be right.” Her voice held the hint of a smile. “But that day is not today, I’m afraid.”
“So, what should we do?” Tarrah asked, huddling into a cloak. The temperature had dropped the further they’d trekked up the mountain. Tarrah had grown visibly cold. Reyna had lent her the hoarfrost cloak, but it was a thin and wispy thing and not designed to keep a fae warm.
“They will stick with us until we reach the portal,” Nollaig said. “Do we let them follow us through?”
“Absolutely not,” Reyna replied tensely. “We will not let brigands interfere with us reaching the power to stop the Ruin.”
Lorcan glanced at her, eyebrow raised. “You seem very certain my father wasn’t lying to us.”
“Oh, I think he was lying to us. But I also think there is something in Inishfall, too.”
“A trap,” he said dryly.
“A trap!” Tarrah exclaimed. “That’s what we should do. Set a trap for the brigands.”
Reyna arched a brow. “That’s not a terrible idea.”
“Why does it always have to be a trap?” Lorcan grunted, but he didn’t elaborate.
“Are you certain they mean us harm, Nollaig?” Reyna asked.
The hooded fae was silent for a moment before giving a slight nod. “This realm is full of monstrous things, and these mountains more so than anywhere else. For whatever reason they’re following us, it won’t be a good one.”
The trio turned toward Lorcan, deferring to his command. He was the prince, and it was his call, even if he no longer held that mark inside his skin. With a long, tired sigh, he dragged his hand down his face, and then tensed the muscles that corded deeply through his broad shoulders. He stood tall over them all, strength radiating from his body like a king. “We will set a trap. But I don’t want them killed unless we can confirm that they’re enemies.”
Nollaig gave a slight bow. “We will do as you command.”
35
Eislyn
After weeks on board the Stingray, the icy shores of Margaidh drifted into view. Princess Eislyn Darragh stood on the bow of the ship, her wild hair whipping around her shoulders. Vreis stood beside her, stoic and strong. Together, they would find Lord Killian and tell him everything they knew. He would send word at once to her father.
After that, she knew the battles would begin once more. Her father would want to rip Aengus off his throne. Tairngire would fall. Innocent lives would be lost. She wished it didn’t have to happen, but she saw no other way. Aengus must be stopped.
Margaidh was the second largest city in all the Ice Court and one of the most impressive. It spread across rolling icy hills that led up to a towering castle that could only be accessed by thin, winding stairs that had been cut from ice. The three towers twisted like skinny tornados, the spires carved from the oldest pieces of ice glass in the realm. Margaidh was a bustling city and still a hub for trade, even though merchants could no longer shift goods between realms. The eastern market was infamous, full of hundreds of silver tents that dotted the icy fields just to the northeast of the city.
After they disembarked and bid their farewell to the crew, Eislyn excitedly led Vreis into the eastern markets. She’d dreamt of them the past few nights, wondering what riches she would find hidden amongst the stalls. Namely, she wanted to find some more books.
