“Wingallock. Wait, I—”
Before she could say goodbye, he was gone, only a small dot of white against the setting sun. Sobs shook her throat as an excruciating pain rippled through her entire body from the very depths of her heart. She clung on to the bannister, barely able to keep herself upright. Breath shuddered from her lungs. Tears splashed onto her cheeks. He was gone. Her familiar was gone.
She opened her mouth to call him back, desperation seizing her resolve.
Wood creaked behind her. “You let your familiar go?”
“I need to let Lorcan know we’re coming. To hold on a little longer. Before he does something rash.” Reyna quickly brushed the hot tears off her cheeks and tried to pull herself together. “The wood fae would notice me in the skies, but they won’t spot an owl the color of the clouds. Besides, he can fly a lot higher than I can.”
“Won’t that hurt you, princess?” Duff asked gently.
“Only my heart.” She let out a shuddering breath, already feeling as though a piece of her soul had been ripped from her chest. “This can’t kill me. Not with Seelie’s magic in my blood.”
“Hmm.” He leaned against the bannister and frowned up at the red-streaked sky. “It seems you’re depending a lot on Seelie.”
“He’s all we’ve got.”
* * *
Six days passed with a brutal chasm inside Reyna’s chest instead of her heart. The Ruin’s incessant thumping seemed to grow louder in Wingallock’s absence, and her heightened senses seemed to dull. She could no longer make out the shapes of fish darting beneath the choppy waves. The horizon was once again a meaningless blur. Words from distant conversations melted into the reverberating storm that raged inside of her head.
The wood fae had brought out their flutes and their drums just as they had every night of the journey. They cracked open a barrel of Wood Whiskey and passed around tankards to the gathered fae, all but the three keeping watch on the deck above. Reyna huddled in the corner, watching the proceedings as if they were happening a hundred miles away rather than right before her eyes.
Duff suddenly appeared before her, his weathered hand outstretched. “Join us this once, princess. We’ll arrive in the waters outside of Craobhan in the ‘morn. Tonight, we’ll have whiskey and dancing and song. Tomorrow, we walk into the viper’s pit.”
“I’m not really feeling the cheeriness of the whole situation.”
“Your familiar’s gone,” he said with a shrug. “You’re lucky you’re alive.”
“It’s more than that,” she said, but she didn’t elaborate. Reyna didn’t know how to explain that there was a magical storm made of wind and ash inside of her, and that it was angrily pounding against her mind. It wanted to break her apart piece by piece. It wanted to shatter her like ice.
“I don’t care if it’s more than that.” Duff shoved his hand closer. “Tonight, we celebrate. It might be the last time we can do that for a very long while.”
If ever, he left unspoken.
They all knew what a long-shot this was, and yet they’d all come to help see her through it. The least she could do was join the dance once, even if her fractional heart was not wholly in it. With a sigh, she slipped her hand into his and stood.
He led her out of the dark corner and across the shifting floor to where a few of the fae danced and sang while others cleared more space in the hull. The overhead hatch had been flung wide, and pearly moonlight splashed onto the smiling faces. Sea wind swirled through the revellers, rippling hair like ribbons. The sweet melody of the flutes curled around her like an embrace, filling her soul and soothing the rawness of her pain.
The Ruin whispered in her mind.You should not be celebrating, Namhaid.
She fisted her hands and blocked it out.
Maybe if she ignored it long enough, it would go away.
Duff caught the look on her face and frowned as he passed her a tankard of whiskey. The burning scent was strong, intoxicating. Her fingers gripped the wooden mug so hard she heard a crack. “Everything okay?”
Through gritted teeth, she smiled, thankful that she could lie. “I’m as okay as I can be without my familiar.”
The truth may be twisted but never false.Unless you’re an exiled shadow fae or your name is Reyna Darragh.
She still hadn’t sorted out how she could lie. Another sign that something was wrong with her.
“Are you sure? You’re—”
A high-pitched horn blasted through the merriment. The flutes cut off, and the drumbeat died. Alarm flashed on every face. They waited, and the horn sounded once more.
An eerie silence rushed through the hull. Heart pounding beneath her ribs, Reyna glanced up at Duff. He stood, shoulders tense, bow in hand. His jaw was carved from stone.
