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She gave a mischievous giggle. “That’s me being nicer.”

  I rolled my eyes. That sprite would be the end of me. We rode along a winding road. It looked similar to the paths we had taken before, but there was a feeling in the air, a marked darkness that I couldn’t ignore. That made me wonder about the possibility of darkness in me.

  “Can you tell me about the leanan sídhe?” I asked.

  “Bekind would be best for that,” Grim said. “Your ancestor was before my time.”

  “She won’t even talk to me.”

  “Maybe you don’t want to know,” Realtín whispered.

  She was probably right. Knowing I had descended from true evil would be the nail on the already rotten coffin that buried my secret family tree.

  Arlen approached and spoke under his breath. “Do not react, but we’re being watched. Slightly up the pace whenever you can. Do not gallop, or you’ll give us away. It’s probably curiosity rather than an aggressor, but I’d like to avoid confrontation. We’ll pull back and let you take the lead. They’ll likely pick off the back of the group first. Stay safe. If something happens and you have the chance to escape, do so.”

  He fell back before I could answer. I tried not to turn my head or look around, but my cheeks burned. Dubh raised the pace naturally, as if he knew exactly what was going on. He probably did. Bekind had been taking periodic rests on Dubh’s back, and she hopped on and stayed.

  The other horses trailed behind us. Dubh was overly alert and aware of the world around us. I figured he would know first if there was danger coming, but I tried to keep an eye out anyway. I saw and heard nothing, and neither did Realtín or Grim. Whoever had been out there was probably long gone, avoiding us in case we attacked.

  The warmth in the air cooled significantly the closer we got to the Hollows. I heard rushing water and asked Grim about it.

  “I believe it’s known as the River Garbh,” he said. “It cuts through the realm, dangerously wild. But the river then runs under the Hollows and back to the surface again. Between the hills is the only safe road through. That’s why we have to risk taking this route. Only those who know the Darkside well know of safer routes.”

  My nerves tightened. The road had narrowed dangerously. The terrain arched steeply then fell again, over and over again. At the highest point, a valley widened on either side of us. In the distance, I spotted groups of huts. When I looked over my shoulder, I could plainly see the path we had just travelled.

  The river was a snake that swerved through the countryside until it faded out of sight. The Hollow Hills were larger than I expected, but far beyond them, something else caught my eye—a huge ruined castle.

  “What is that?” I asked, pointing.

  Grim shook his head. “I never knew there was a castle in the Darkside.”

  Dubh slowed until Arlen and Anya reached us. Their horse was almost as large as Dubh, but as Anya didn’t fit in the saddle with Arlen, she rode on his lap, his arm wrapped tight around her waist.

  “Any idea who owns that castle?” I asked, trying not to stare at how close my friend was to Brendan’s bodyguard.

  Arlen shook his head. “It’s a ruin from ancient days. No need to worry.”

  I peered at the building, seeing a kind of scaffolding attached to the lower half of the tower. “It looks like it’s being rebuilt.”

  Arlen studied it. “Perhaps some Darksiders are using it as a hiding place. It was built in a good spot. If it wasn’t for this cliff, we wouldn’t have noticed it at all.”

  “It looks pretty big for a hiding place,” I noted.

  Arlen looked at me. “And who would dare hide in a castle?” His lips pressed together. “We should move on as quickly as possible. Don’t discuss this with anyone else.”

  Dubh kept going, following Bekind’s path on the treacherous route. He couldn’t move any faster than a walk, but I felt as if I could fall at any time. On the upside, I had been chewing on leaves less frequently.

  “I think I’m getting used to riding,” I said. “I’m toughening up.”

  Realtín giggled. “Don’t toughen up too much, or our king might not recognise you when you free him.”

  “I can’t believe we’re actually doing it,” I said. “It seems surreal to think we’re going to some form of purgatory and taking back a soul.”

  “It’s not quite the same thing,” Grim said. “We’re just pulling a lost king back through the Wall of Souls. He’s not dead. Just… lost.”

  That made my stomach turn, so I decided to stop talking about it.

  We finally made it away from the cliff top and onto steadier ground. We cantered for less than an hour before Drake called us to a halt. “We should set up camp for the evening.”

  “You’re right,” Arlen said. “Whoever was following disappeared before we reached the cliff. We’ll pass through the Hollows tomorrow. We might as well do it in the light of day. Tempting fate to pass during darkness. If we make it past the Hollows, we’ll reach the marshlands. And if we make it that far, it’ll be a miracle.”

  “Then let’s all go home now,” Sorcha said snidely. “Why tempt fate any more than we already have?”

  She was watching me as she spoke, and I wondered at the meaning behind her words. She had actually been less antagonistic toward me than usual, even though Brendan wasn’t there as a buffer between us. In fact, she seemed more interested in Drake than anyone. Maybe she had bet on a different king.

  We set up camp. We didn’t have as much shelter away from the forest, so we had no choice but to stay close together. All ten of us sat around the fire that evening, eating a small meal and drinking hot tea.

  The air was drastically cooler at night, and we huddled to get warm, despite the lack of trust. Sorcha pressed against Drake. On her other side was Dymphna, who was in conversation with Líle. To Líle’s left was Arlen, who was speaking in a low voice to Anya. I sat next to Anya, a black cat cuddling on my lap and stealing my food. Realtín was to my left, and Grim took the last seat in the circle next to Drake. The horses were tied up, apart from Dubh, who wandered as he pleased. I wondered where Brendan would sit when we rescued him.

  “Do you not need a leaf for the pain?” Drake asked politely.

  Maybe I just imagined it, but everyone seemed to stop talking.

  “The Miacha gave me enough for a week and said I wouldn’t need it all. They were right. At least there’s plenty left if anyone else needs it.”

  “You’re the only weak human here,” Sorcha said. “The rest of us will be fine.”

  Realtín flicked a berry at Sorcha.

  Drake reached out and caught it. He popped it into his mouth. “Thank you, Realtín.”

  The sprite huffed and shimmered red and gold. She liked Drake, but he was treading a fine line by interfering with her mischief.

  “Thank you, Cara,” Arlen said, surprising me. “That will be helpful before the end of our journey, I wager.”

  “No problem.” I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at Sorcha. “I just wish I had taken more of what the Miacha offered.”

  “I’ve never met anyone who has come across the Miacha before,” Dymphna said. “Fate must favour you.”

  “Oh, yes,” Sorcha said. “Beloved by kings, watched over by an absent goddess, saved by demi-goddesses, and cared for by… little people. Our Cara is special indeed.”

  I stared at her. “I don’t have anything you want, Sorcha.”

  “Oh, I know,” she said. “But the world won’t end if someone in your presence doesn’t love you. You’re so needy, child.”

  “It’s because I actually have a heart,” I said, getting to my feet. “Now I’m going to bed before my heart makes me feel guilty about wanting to kick a banshee in the face.”

  Grim and Realtín came over and helped me lay out a pallet. Dubh plonked down on the blanket, forcing us to snuggle up to him. Bekind joined us, and our ritual was complete.

  I glanced over at the fire. Only Drake and Sorcha remained. The
others were carrying their blankets over to us. We had to sleep side by side for warmth, but I liked to imagine it as an admission of the fact that we were a family—perhaps a dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless.

  I stayed awake, listening to the faint snoring of my companions. Drake and Sorcha whispered to each other for a long time, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. When she finally joined us and settled to sleep, he stared into the fire, shoulders hunched, and that stupid heart of mine felt sorry for him… again.

  Chapter Nine

  Everyone’s eyes were cast in a similar direction over breakfast the next morning—toward the Hollows. We didn’t know what lay out there, but it was definitely dangerous.

  “We’ll be fine,” Arlen said.

  I wanted to believe him. “We don’t all have to go,” I said. “If anyone wants to back out now…”

  Nobody said a word, but as we prepared to leave, I could tell they all felt as nervous as I did. Dubh stamped his feet as we attached our bundles to the horses’ saddles. Realtín flew around our heads, getting in everyone’s way. Even Grim snapped at Dymphna when she bumped into him.

  “Let’s go,” Drake said. “We need to do this in the full light of the sun.”

  “That’s it?” I asked. “Without any kind of a plan?”

  “We can’t plan for what we don’t know,” he said dismissively.

  I folded my arms across my chest. “We can plan for what we’ll do if somebody attacks us.”

  “If somebody attacks, the rest of you run, while Líle and I try to hold them off,” Arlen said. “That’s why Anya’s riding with Drake today.”

  “Like fuck am I running,” I said. “I’m not running away while Líle and you get killed!”

  “Oh, and are you going to protect them?” Sorcha asked with a sneer. “Jump in and save the day? And with what, may I ask? Your keen wit? Not sure that will work.”

  My fingers clenched into fists. “Just shut up, banshee. Jesus! Do you have to be a full-time bitch?” I took a deep breath. “This doesn’t even count as a plan, it’s so dumb.”

  “It’s the best we have under the circumstances,” Drake said. “If you want to find Brendan…”

  I swallowed hard. I would never be in control of my own destiny with the fae around. They thought of me as a lesser being, a child, someone incapable of making a decision.

  “If everyone is ready, we should leave,” Arlen said. “I’ll ride up front, and Líle will stay at the back of the group. Cara, if you’re in danger, leave. Dubh can outrun anything.”

  “I will ride with Dymphna today,” Bekind said, surprising everyone. She was travelling as a woman, for once, though she kept her face hidden with a hooded robe.

  “Fine,” Arlen said. “Let us move on.”

  We mounted the horses and set out with trepidation. The Hollows were different up close. I couldn’t see the river any longer, but I felt its weird ricocheting trembles even while sitting on Dubh’s back. A narrow path stretched between the hills, which towered high above, too steep to climb. Their sloping surfaces were pockmarked, as though chunks had been taken out of the hills and tunnels that had been dug through the centre. I grew paranoid, feeling as though someone or something was watching us.

  “Is there really no other way?” I whispered to Grim.

  He shook his head. “Not that we know of. Even the queens didn’t dare to travel this close to the Hollows. If we searched for another way across, we would end up wasting time in confrontation with Darksiders. We spent long enough avoiding the forest tribes in neutral territory. This is the only path open to us.”

  I kept an eye on the Hollows as Dubh trotted behind Arlen’s horse. The sounds of our horses’ hooves felt like a warning drum. The wind had stilled as if some great being held its breath while we passed. A tingle ran down my spine in anticipation.

  The Hollows drew up around us, dwarfing us with their size. We trotted in a line, all of us glancing from one side to the other. I swallowed my fear, wishing we could run but at the same time worrying if that would trigger some predator’s prey drive.

  We were halfway through. Up close, the notches were clearly hiding places carved out for things to stare through. At night, it would be so much more terrifying. Even in the bright daylight, I felt chilled. Dubh protested, pulling back in his reluctance to keep going.

  “On, Dubh,” Arlen urged, turning back to grab Dubh’s halter.

  Dubh snorted and tried to bite Arlen.

  “Enough,” Grim said. “It’s too late to turn back, Dubh.”

  The horse shuddered beneath us then began walking again. In the silence that followed, I waited for something to happen. The waiting was the worst.

  When we were almost through, I looked back to grin at Líle, who was bringing up the rear. Something caught my eye—a dark creeping figure, heading straight for her.

  “Watch out!” I screamed.

  “Flee!” Arlen shouted.

  Everyone else obeyed. The rest of the horses flew past us in their hurry to get away, leaving Líle behind.

  “Grim, I can’t!” I cried.

  “I know.”

  I yanked at Dubh’s reins to turn him around. For once in his bloody faery horse life, he actually obeyed me, and we bypassed Dymphna’s horse to get to Líle. Realtín screamed behind me. Líle’s sword was already swinging. She beheaded the sneaking creature.

  I heaved a sigh of relief, but then a dozen of the same creatures poured out of one of the notches in the hills. The dirty, scrawny things charged at us. Their mottled green and black bodies were hunched, making them all appear a little lopsided. I saw no weapons. They clawed and bit at Líle like animals.

  “Run if you have to, Grim!” I shouted.

  But he stayed with me, holding on tightly as Dubh raced back down the trail. Realtín followed, still screaming, her red light streaming everywhere.

  We made it to Líle. Her fiery hair was dishevelled, and sweat beaded at her temples. A few bodies lay at her horse’s feet, but she was vastly outnumbered. Grim leapt from Dubh’s back to Líle’s horse, two daggers in his hands. He balanced behind Líle, standing to lash out at the creatures on her back, who were desperately scratching at her face and neck.

  Dubh circled them. I wrapped the reins around one arm and used the other to stab whenever I saw one of the creatures try to climb onto Líle’s saddle.

  Hooves sounded behind us. The others had returned. More and more creatures of all sizes flooded from the hills—lesser fae, many of whom looked sick or deformed. They didn’t hesitate, didn’t seem to care that they were running straight into our blades.

  Perspiration rolled down my back. The fight lasted minutes but felt like a lifetime. Blackened blood practically glued my fingers together. My shoulders ached from desperately holding tight to the reins and lashing out at the little creatures who tried to run up my legs, biting and pinching.

  Drake grabbed the back of my neck and bent me over. Then he stabbed his short sword into the gut of a creature that had been flying right at my head. I didn’t have the energy to thank him when he let me go. The creatures surrounded us as if called by a beacon, fighting like crazy for no reason I could see.

  Dubh kicked and stamped, injuring enough of the creatures that the others gave us a wider berth. One clung stubbornly to his tail. I leaned back and swung at it with my knife. It dodged out of the way then bit my hand. I punched out, knocking it off me. It bared its teeth, mouth stained with my blood, then leaped at me. But my dagger was aimed right at its heart. As I flung the body away, I noticed strange black patches spreading across its bare back.

  Drake backed into Dubh as he beheaded another of the creatures. Blood sprayed across my face. I recoiled, and one of the creatures grabbed my hair, yanking on it and almost pulling me off Dubh. Arlen cut the creature away, slicing off some of my hair in the process. The wave of creatures began to slow, some running back into their hiding places within the Hollows.

  A deep voice shouted, “E
nough!”

  I looked up to find that we were surrounded. The creatures we had fought were the smallest, likely a test to see what we were capable of. Many larger figures stepped out from various nooks and crannies, making their way toward us. That must have been why Dubh was so eager to avoid the Hollows. He knew people were hidden all around, inside the hills and maybe even underground. Well, not people. Darksiders. The new arrivals looked more like warrior fae. None had wings.

  A tall, broad man jumped down in front of us, closely followed by a number of large fae who looked suspiciously like some of the old queens’ bodyguards. The leader wore a smirk, his shock of white hair in stark contrast to his black armour.

  He spread out his arms. “Welcome to the Hollow Hills! And as much as I like a quick battle in the morning, there’s still a toll to pay.”

  “What toll?” Arlen asked scornfully.

  “The king’s toll.” The man gazed around our group. He licked his lips as his eyes fell on Dubh.

  “No king has a toll here,” Drake said.

  “Is that right?” the man asked. “But every man is king of his own castle. Isn’t that so?”

  So they were the people who lived in the castle ruins? I shivered. There were so many of them and such feral-looking fae. I had never seen anything like them—except perhaps once, when I was six years old and a monster in the wardrobe ate a monster under my bed.

  “Who are you?” Arlen demanded.

  “They call me Reynard. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?” The man smiled when Arlen flinched.

  “The Fox?” Arlen said. “Didn’t a hedge-witch kill you?”

  “Not in this lifetime.” Reynard grinned. “And I’m tired of talking. Your choices are these: death or pay the toll.”

  “What’s the toll?” Drake asked wearily.

  “That depends on what you’ve got,” Reynard said. “Some give a horse, some their hearts, but you have a lot to pick from, so choose wisely.”

  “Make a request,” Drake said. “So we know we’re on the same page.”

  “A request? How sensible.” Reynard passed through the horses.