Finn stood, kicking away the bedroll still tangled around her boots. “Could you perhaps point me in the direction of the nearest road?” she asked distantly, her attention once again caught by the dazzling, colorful display of pixies.
“Aye,” Corcra replied, dipping down to once again hover in front of Finn’s face. “We’ll have to cross it on our way to the coast. In return, perhaps you could provide a distraction for us. It is in our best interest to stay out of sight from the world of men, and the world of the Snow Queen alike.”
Another of the pixies, a tiny man with pale green wings and hair, flitted near Finn’s injured arm. “I smell blood,” he buzzed, his voice only a few octaves lower than Corcra’s.
“You have already eaten today,” Corcra hissed.
Finn’s pulse raised a few notches as she took a deliberate step away from Corcra and her kin.
Not seeming to notice, Corcra flew in Loinnir’s direction, then turned to face Finn. “Let us depart. She says you may ride her again.”
Finn scowled at the heavy saddle, still on the ground where she’d left it with the bridle. She would have trouble lifting the saddle onto the tall unicorn any day, let alone with an injured arm. Dismissing the idea, she instead rolled up her bedroll, tied the two satchels from the saddle around it, and carried the bundle toward Loinnir.
Once again, she looked at the tall unicorn doubtfully.
As if understanding the issue, Loinnir knelt on her front legs, allowing Finn to drape her bundle across her shoulders, before climbing up behind it. Having respectfully forgone the bridle in favor of allowing the unicorn to lead the way, she intertwined her fingers with Loinnir’s silky mane, then Loinnir raised herself.
A fluttering sound announced Corcra, seconds before she landed on Finn’s should.
She shivered. “Don’t think for a moment that I’ve forgotten that blood comment.”
Corcra chuckled. “Do not fear, we are mostly carrion eaters. We’re not likely to taste your blood until you’re dead.”
Her shoulder’s stiffened. “That’s not terribly comforting.”
“It wasn’t meant to be,” Corcra replied. “Still, our small hands are more than capable of stitching your wound, and Loinnir will carry you as far as she can, though I doubt she will remain in the land of men with you. I’m not sure why you would want to travel one of their roads.”
“How do you know I’m not one of them?” Finn inquired, beginning to relax. She still needed to find her friends, but for the moment, it was nice to have conversation, and an offer to tend her wound.
Corcra chuckled. “Loinnir once carried the Queen of the Aos Sí. She would only willingly leave her mistress for a more fitting queen, and not a simple human one.”
Finn chewed on her lip, wondering how much she should divulge to Corcra. “I am no queen,” she said simply. “I am no one at all.”
“Many women have said such a thing,” Corcra replied, “only to later move entire nations.”
Finn smiled softly, though she knew Corcra was wrong about her. She was tangled in a web with spiders approaching on all sides, not the queen, but the prey. Queens might be capable of moving mountains, but her only business was staying out of their way.
“What do the Dair plan?” the female Aos Sí demanded.
Iseult barely even noted her graceful features, her black hair, or the black tunic and breeches she wore. They did not matter. If he could not escape, at the very least, he would not speak. He would die with honor. It didn’t matter that he had no idea what the Dair were planning. He would give the Aos Sí nothing.
The Aos Sí woman growled, and Iseult braced himself for the pain of a hot poker, or perhaps a blade, but the pain never came. The woman stalked past him until her footsteps faded out of hearing range, only to be replaced by new footsteps heading toward him.
He tried to keep the surprise off his face as Oighear moved around his chair to peer down at him. She blinked intelligent, lilac eyes, as if she were reading his thoughts.
“You are very loyal,” she said finally.
She began to pace, the long train of her glittering white gown hissing across the stone floor.
“Normally, loyalty is a trait which I highly reward,” she continued. She laced her pure white hands together and turned toward him. “Unfortunately, yours seems to be misguided. The Dair stole my magic once, and I will not allow it to happen again. Lead me to my shroud, and we shall defeat them together.”
Iseult was almost tempted by her offer. If they could defeat the other Dair, perhaps Finn would be safe, but he had a feeling Oighear would lump her in with the others.
She waited for his reply, but received none.
She quirked an eyebrow at him, the fine white hairs barely visible against her matching skin. “I know of your people,” she stated casually. “So few left now,” she mused. “I wonder, what happens when you die without a soul?”
Iseult once again schooled his expression to show nothing, though it was difficult. Few knew of his people’s curse. In fact, with the disappearance of the Cavari, and his lack of kin, for many years he believed himself the only one with the information.
She began to pace again. “I can break your curse with the help of my shroud. It removes the barrier to the in between, where the souls of your people are trapped. Join me, and you will have everything you could ever hope for.”
“If your deal were truly so sweet,” he replied, “you would have offered it from the start, instead of imprisoning us.”
Ire flashed through her lilac eyes. “The girl is Cavari. She would see me returned to my eternal slumber. I learned my lesson centuries ago. One does not make treaties with enemies.”
“Yet you seek out the Dair?” he questioned, hoping to keep her talking, though he wasn’t sure why. Any information he learned would do him little good once he was dead.
She smirked. “Not all Dair are Cavari. The Cavari are twisted and evil, far from where their people originated. I had hoped to find the other Dair to band against the Cavari, along with the other Faie. Together, we would be unstoppable.”
“And let me guess,” he taunted, “you would be the queen of all?”
She tilted her head, cascading her silken hair over her bony shoulder. “Naturally.”
“And if I join you,” he pressed, “declare you my new queen. What then?”
“We find the shroud, kill the Cavari, and rule the earth.”
Iseult shook his head and laughed. “That is the problem with queens. It’s never about saving your people, or bringing justice to wrong-doers. Your sole concern is power. You surely are no queen of mine.”
“You have just as much reason to hate the Cavari as I,” she snapped.
He shrugged. “Perhaps.”
She frowned, then looked past him toward someone entering the room.
“A large contingent of men has been spotted in the Western Woods,” the visitor explained.
Oighear’s frown deepened. “Humans?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“And why are they still alive?” she inquired.
The informant stepped further into the room, revealing himself to be one of the many armored Aos Sí. “They skirt the boundaries, my lady. A large force would need to be deployed, leaving those who remain vulnerable.”
Oighear let out a throaty laugh. Iseult did not miss the way the Aos Sí warrior jumped. Perhaps Eywen and his associates were not the only ones who feared their queen.
“Let us see if these men can withstand the wrath of Oighear the White,” she growled.
Without another look at Iseult, Oighear swept out of the room with the Aos Sí. The door slammed shut behind them, then a lock slid into place, even though Iseult was already restrained in his chair.
Ignoring the throbbing of his near-fatal wound, and the aching of his cold bones, he began to formulate his plan. Oighear might have been an ancient, magical being, but she was shortsighted, blinded by her own power and authority. Perhaps there was a way out of this situation yet, a way back to Finn. He wouldn’t get his hopes up, but if an opportunity presented itself, he’d be ready.