But the Queen was right. Lorcan fit. Every arrow of proof she’d found pointed his way. A foreigner in his own lands. A fae suffering from a transformation. One with power. She closed her eyes against the tears. One sprang through the cracks, spilling down her cheek and leaving behind a hot trail.
How could she stop the Namhaid if he was the fae she loved?
It was her worst fear come to life. For him, she would sacrifice everything. The Ruin had been right about her. She might not be the Namhaid, but she was even worse. She wasn’t even being controlled by dark magic. Lorcan was. And yet, she wouldn’t be able to stop him.
“Reyna, are you alright?” Glencora asked her with a frown when she finally joined them on the other side of the wall of rain. The forest was as silent as a graveyard here. In Ionad, there’d been a constant hum of buzzing magic and bustling activity. Now, there was nothing but the sound of distant screams.
“Not really,” Reyna said with a tight smile. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be okay again.
They took off through the forest once again, aiming their feet to the east, toward Murias. Reyna fell into step beside Nollaig while Rhain took the lead. Glencora and Thane rounded out the back. Reyna wished she could hide her sister away somewhere safe, but Craobhan was days away and in the wrong direction. The detour would cost them too much time. They needed to reach Lorcan before her father invaded the kingdom.
A day and a half into the journey, the whisper of shadows brushed against the back of her neck. Unease tumbled through her. She fell back to Thane, dropping her voice to a low whisper. “How close are we to where Lorcan attacked me?”
He frowned and glanced around. “We’re pretty close. Why?”
She pressed her lips together. “Someone’s watching us.”
With Seelie’s magic, her enhanced senses had returned. Distant sounds echoed in her ears like the sharp crack of lightning. Colors bloomed like brilliant bursts of flowers. Even dull browns and greys were luminous and electric to her eyes. Whoever was out there had stayed quiet, but she sensed them all the same. A whisper of breath on the wind. The soft crunch of fallen leaves underfoot.
And shadows.
“You think it’s Lorcan?” Thane murmured, his face paling. “I’d hoped he’d returned to Murias.”
Suddenly, the brush parted. A dozen figures leapt into view, each carrying swords the length of their bodies. Reyna threw out a hand and stepped in front of Glencora, blocking her from the view of the attackers.
She scanned their faces, a snake of fear twisting around her heart. Their faces were pale, and where the wood fae were often tall and slim, these beings were short and stout. Curly hair cascaded around their shoulders. Sharp teeth glinted in the dappled moonlight. Their cloven hooves stomped the ground.
“Careful,” Reyna whispered. “They’re Urisks.”
Urisks had rarely been seen since the Fall. Like the Dryads, they were loyal to no court. They roamed the lands of Tir Na Nog, burrowing themselves below the ground in caves.
Urisks made grand friends and allies, but only if they knew you. And they especially hated anyone who trespassed on anything they considered their own land.
Several of the Urisks raised flutes to their lips. Reyna let out a cry of warning to the others, ducking toward the ground. The poisoned dart hit her in the throat just as she flattened herself against the moss. Darkness pooled in the corners of her vision, and then it dragged her down into the deep void.
32
Lorcan
“Let me in!” Lorcan pounded the wall of rain, wincing at the sting of light magic. “I know she was here! Open up or I will rip every last one of you to shreds!”
The rain parted. A tall, horned female within glinting green skin stared out at him, her eyes gleaming with hate. Lorcan growled and charged at her, but his body slammed hard into an invisible wall. That fucking magic.
“I said to let me in.” He stumbled back, narrowing his eyes. “You know I have the power to kill every single Dryad inside this bloody forest.”
“If you had that kind of power,” she said calmly, “then you would already be inside our village.”
His throat rumbled. Anger flamed inside of him, drowning out everything else, including the stupid Pathetic One who had ruined everything for him. “Molt got to you, so I know I can.”
“Perhaps in time.” She smiled. “As of now, you are nothing but a shell of him.”
“I should rip your head off your body and feast upon your flesh,” he spit.
“You can certainly try.”
“Just tell me where she is,” he said, edging closer to the wall. “She was here, wasn’t she? She found out how to stop the curse.”
“She?” The Dryad arched a brow. “That’s very vague. I can’t possibly know who you mean.”
