THE FAE TUNNELS rivaledany maze I’d ever seen. How Soren made the turns so confidently was beyond me. I was immediately disoriented.
Outside his burrow, the dirt walls had turned into smooth pale stone, which shortly after grew jagged and gray. The ground turned equally uneven, climbing and descending at random, like someone had smashed their way through and called it good enough.
In some places the rock walls narrowed so much that my shoulder brushed Soren’s. I shrank back, but he didn’t react. In other places, it opened wide into intersections that could fit at least ten people—or rather, fae—with multiple branches leading who knew where.
Though we’d yet to run into any other fae, there was a surprising number of doors.
My mind spun, imagining who might live behind them or if they led to a whole different set of tunnels.
For the first time, I was glad I hadn’t chased after my family. I would’ve gotten lost in a heartbeat.
“How big is this place?” I whispered over our muffled footsteps.
Soren’s shadow wings flew across the stony wall beside him as he glanced over. “The Hollow Court stretches on for miles.”
Left, then right, then right again.
When we turned right a third time, I slowed. I could’ve sworn we were headed back in the direction we’d come. Soren motioned for me to keep up. “The fewer fae we run into, the better. Some are less friendly than others.”
A pair of glowing eyes peered out at us from one of the darker tunnels. Another boggart? Something else? Picking up my pace, I tried not to glance back. As we passed thick tree roots creating little hidden pockets along a dirt wall, I got the feeling again.
I shuddered.
Each passageway had its own material: brick, stone, something that looked like concrete, another that might’ve been actual gold, and, of course, the ones made of packed dirt.
That didn’t seem particularly safe. What if there was a cave-in?
“There are a few things you should know before we reach the revel.” Soren spoke in hushed tones, as if someone might be listening. “When it comes to the royals, it’s better to always agree with them, whenever possible—”
I nodded along, but I wasn’t really paying attention as I took in the uniqueness of more passing doors.
One stood behind a sturdy metal gate—I wondered absently if it was iron. The whole fae-are-allergic-to-metal thing was definitely a myth. Lore had hardly even blinked at my garden tools.
On the opposite side, a burnt-red door nearly matched the dirt. It stood less than a foot tall. My brows rose. When we passed a similar small door, except placed up at eye level, I opened my mouth to ask Soren about it. “What lives in those tiny ones?”
I didn’t realize I’d interrupted him until he groaned. “Have you paid attention to anything I’ve said?” He pinched the spot between his thick brows and briefly closed his eyes.
“Sorry.” I blushed.
“ ‘Sorry’ won’t help you when talking to the royal family, Brynn,” he chastised.
“No offense, but I don’t understand why I need to learn about the fae royals or the court. I’m not planning on being here that long.”
“Has it occurred to you that you might not have a choice?” he murmured.
