“I don’t know, Lorcan. I cared for the girl, but we never made any promises to each other. And now, we have to forge a path forward. All of us, together. This seemed like the only way to do it. The last thing I want is to be at odds with Cos Darragh. I made a promise to him ages ago to marry one of his daughters. He held me to that promise.”
Lorcan couldn’t hold back the roll of his eyes. He sounded so much like the honorable king he wanted to be, even though he would likely break the poor girl’s damn heart whenever she resurfaced. Even as hard as he tried, Thane was doomed.
But Unseelie would take care of it all soon enough.
“And where is their father?” Lorcan asked.
“He’s right behind me with his army.”
Lorcan hissed. “He brought his army?”
Thane nodded. “I told him not to, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He wanted some assurance that you didn’t intend to kill us all and take our courts while we were at your mercy. My uncle brought his, too. All this ships are in the bay.”
It was all Lorcan could do not to rip Thane’s head off. Murdock was the first king on his list to kill. If he could gain control of the Sea Court, he would have hundreds of ships at his disposal. Eventually, he would need to cross the Sea of Fomor and confront the Empire. He would need those ships.
“I see,” Lorcan said quietly. “Some might say that goes against the spirit of the treaty.”
“But not us, eh?” Thane grinned and thumped his hand against Lorcan’s back. “I think we both want peace far too much for a couple of wary kings to change things.”
“Of course.” Lorcan gave him a thin smile.
“Now, come. They’ll be here soon. I want to see what I can of Murias before our peace talks begin in earnest.” Thane strode toward the open door, motioning for Lorcan to follow. The dual king stared after his old friend—friend no longer. Thane was the enemy. He always had been. If he’d ever known the truth about Lorcan—what he was and where he’d come from—he would have never allowed him inside his court.
He’d hated shadow fae.
Palming the hilt of his sword, he strode after the air king. Soon, the time would come. All the kings of Tir Na Nog would die, and Unseelie would rule.
10
Reyna
Reyna blinked at Nollaig. “You’re aFomorian?”
Her heart pounded in her chest as she gaped at her hooded friend. For so long, the truth about her past—and her very existence—had evaded Reyna like a mouse escaping the fangs of a hungry snake. She’d always known that Nollaig was hiding something. Something big. But she’d never expected this.
Nollaig’s sigh escaped from her hood. “Aye. By blood, at least. Not by power. Most of my magic has been drained from me, and I don’t remember much from my past. Only shadows remain in my mind.”
Reyna shook her head. “How long ago did this happen?”
“I’m not certain. I’ve lived in Tir Na Nog for at least a century. Perhaps longer than that.”
“But…why?” Reyna asked. “Someone must have done something to you to erase all your memories. Who?”
She wanted to ask about the cloak and the hood, but she knew it had taken a lot for Nollaig to share even this much with her. Demanding more wasn’t fair.
“Again, I don’t know.” Nollaig threw up her hands. Well…hand. A single gloved hand. Reyna had never seen the other one. “My memories are vague and meaningless. There are some things I recall. Facts and details about the world. Histories. Songs of old. Prophecies. Ancient lore. But I know nothing about myself and how I came to be here..”
“Well, I’ll be,” Rhain said, smiling. “We’ve got a full-blooded Fomorian on our side. That should count for something.”
“Not without my powers,” Nollaig warned. “I can sense things off you. Lies and truths. I’m fast. I’m strong. I’m good with weapons. But that only goes so far.”
“It’s enough,” Rhain said firmly, glancing at Reyna. “It has to be. We’re all we’ve got.”
* * *
When they arrived in Murias, the northern kings were already there. Reyna spotted her father’s flag rippling in the breeze, a solemn soldier standing watch beside the castle stables. Her heart twisting, she strode up to the tower. She’d hoped to sneak in and out without catching Lorcan’s notice, but there was no such hope of that now.
She threw open the Great Hall doors and stormed inside. Lorcan lounged on his throne, his gilded antler crown askew on his head. The emeralds sparkled in the dappled sunlight. A few lords stood clustered around him. None she recognized. The coastal lords from Caraid were nowhere to be seen. She didn’t want to think about what that might mean.
