No, it was the shadows in her eyes. A ghost hidden in the silver of her irises. Something about those eyes beckoned her forward, tempting her closer. But she was afraid if she stared at them for too long, she would lose her grip on this world and drown in the ice.
“Excuse me,” Glencora said in a snap. “You did not answer your queen.”
“I’m here because I spotted some human ships on the horizon,” Mariel said. “It looks like they’re getting ready to attack us. You ought to go warn the king.”
“Oh.” Shock flickered across Mariel’s face as she frowned. “That’s…are you certain?”
“You have wings. Fly into the clouds and see for yourself.”
Maybe that would get rid of her. It would give Mariel enough time to grab her satchel and leave the woods before she returned.
“You don’t seem surprised by my wings,” Glencora said, edging forward. “Shouldn’t you be?”
Mariel shrugged, heart pounding. “Things have been changing in Tir Na Nog for awhile now. Not much surprises me anymore.”
“You’re hiding something,” she hissed.
“We’re all hiding something.”
A wicked smile stretched her lips. “I know who you are. I should have guessed it from the moment I saw you hiding out in these damned, haunted woods. You escaped from the dungeons, didn’t you? I told Thane he should have killed you. The poor bastard. He’s far too soft.”
Mariel took a step back. “Listen, Glencora.”
“Your Highness,” she snapped. “I know you think you have some sort of claim to that throne in there, but it’s not yours. It’s mine.”
“No. It’s Thane’s,” Mariel said slowly.
Glencora just laughed. “Of course. It belongs to Thane.”
A chill swept down Mariel’s spine. The fae who stood before her now looked just like Reyna Darragh, but nothing else about the sisters was the same. There was a heady darkness in Glencora’s eyes and danger in her voice.
“Why did you come out here?” Mariel asked. “I know it had nothing to do with me. You were surprised when you stumbled in my path.”
Glencora cocked her head, smiling. “I was looking for something. You know these woods well, yes?”
Dread tiptoed down Mariel’s spine. “The Witchlight Woods are unknowable. Something you’ll soon find out.”
“Oh no.” Glencora stalked toward her, eyes flashing. “Unknowable to most but not to you. Thane told me about the Dalais family. They loved these woods. You ran through the trees as children, dancing in their branches as if they were the arms of your parents. He decided these woods were haunted because of you. His father killed your father, and now their ghosts roam these woods. But I don’t believe that’s it at all, is it?”
Mariel reached behind her back to feel the soft feathers begging to be released. Glencora might have magic, but so did she. “Thane doesn’t understand these woods.”
“He didn’t before.” Glencora cocked her head. “But he might now…just as I do. Where is the source of power, Mariel Dalais?”
Her mouth went dry. She’d feared the worst, and it had come to pass. Glencora knew about the sap, and she wanted to take it for herself. For so long, Mariel had protected the magic of these woods, and in turn, the woods had protected her.
She couldn’t fail them now.
“If you think I’m going to tell you anything about these woods, you’re sorely mistaken.”
Glencora laughed. “You think you have a choice?”
Fisting her hands, Mariel pushed the wings from her back. They ripped through her shirt, the shreds rippling away on the wind. She expected shock or confusion to flare on the ice fae’s face, but she barely even blinked at Mariel’s demonstration of power.
Instead, she clapped. “See, I knew there was power here. When the Dryads told us that there were six sources spread throughout the kingdom, I thought a lot about the Air Court first. You think I’d focus on the ice lands, right?” She shook her head, laughing. “A quest for another day. I haven’t a clue where it’d be. But I remembered what Thane had told me about these woods, and I thought, ‘that sounds exactly like a place that holds great power’ and so here I am.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mariel replied.
“That’s alright. I don’t need you.” Glencora curled her hands into a trembling claw, and flames flickered out from her fingers. Mariel gasped and stepped back, her heart nearly stopping. “You see, my mother was Fomorian, and so I can wield the powers of all six realms. Fire calls to me. I hear its song in my veins. And it’s begging me to unleash it on these woods so that it might burn down every tree.”
