Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld #1)(66)

The ivy shifted again.

She held her breath and reached forward. The leaves were cold to the touch, far colder than the room.

“Sorcha,” the voice whispered. “Come to me.”

Magic swirled through the room. The ivy rustled, then suddenly blasted the greenery away from its surface. A burning white light grew so bright that Sorcha tossed an arm over her eyes. The sound of ringing bells filled her ears.

Then all was silent.

Sorcha dropped her arms, blinking at the swirling wall of darkness before her. The wall had turned into water. Dark water, like the bottom of the ocean that had nearly killed her.

She shivered. What kind of magic was this?

“Sorcha,” the voice warped as it passed through the liquid portal. “Sorcha, come to me.”

Her stomach dropped, but she couldn’t quell her own curiosity. Someone was calling for her. Were they hurt? Was it someone she knew?

She reached out and touched the wall. It quivered and quaked. A small piece of it broke off, floated over her shoulder, and popped in the center of her bedroom.

“Strange,” she whispered.

Everything here was strange, and she found that it didn’t shock her anymore. Watery portals, faeries in kitchens, boys made up of a menagerie of beasts. What else could happen in this strange and unusual place?

“Sorcha, there is not much time.”

She glanced over her shoulder. No faeries stood in her doorway, no whispers suggested they were listening. Would anyone know if she disappeared?

Someone would have an opinion about this. The angry lord of the castle would notice she had disappeared without his say so. A rebellious part of her wanted to plunge through the portal just to anger him.

“Why is that considered rebellious, Sorcha?” she asked herself. Her voice bounced back through the portal, echoing her words. “You’re curious. Go through the portal.”

“Yes,” the whisper repeated. “Go through the portal.”

“It could be dangerous.”

“It is dangerous.”

“But that has never stopped me before.”

“You are brave.”

“What if this is an Unseelie?” she peered through the waters, trying to see if anyone stood beyond.

“It’s definitely Unseelie.”

“They’re unpredictable.”

“They’re everything you ever desired.”

“How so?”

Apparently, the voice didn’t want to answer questions, as it didn’t respond. She waited to see if it would speak again.

It didn’t.

Sorcha understood what it was doing. The voice, or owner of the voice, wanted her to go through the portal and it wanted to convince her to do so. This couldn’t end well. She had read countless tales where faeries lured humans into their worlds. The Unseelie were not kind to humans.

“This is a terrible idea,” she whispered. “You’re going to end up hurting me, or trapping me in the otherworld forever.”

“We wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“You want to do harm.”

“We want to provide knowledge.”

“What could you know that I do not?”

The wind coiled around her ankles and wrists. “We know much, little human. Your beast is not what he says he is.”

“My beast?”

“Stone.” The voice moaned the word, dragging out the syllables as it had her name. “He is not who he seems to be.”

“Then who is he?”

“Come to me, Sorcha. I will explain all you desire to know.”

Her scalp tingled.

This was a trap. This was an Unseelie who wanted to lure her into the Otherworld and toy with her.

How did the stories always end? The human would lose their minds in the depths of the Unseelie kingdom. They would find themselves slaves, left to the mercy of the hideous creatures crawling through the muck and mire

But so many of these creatures were different than the stories. The Seelies weren’t what she thought. Could it be that the Unseelie were also not how the myths portrayed?

Taking a deep breath, she plunged into the portal.

The liquid clung to her body, sticking to her hair and clothing. It pulled at her. Did it want to drown her? The sticky fluid clawed at her lips and eyes, but never sank into the wide gape of her scream.

Cold sank into her body until she was certain it would freeze her. She would die here and the Unseelie would win. Her toes curled, her fingers grew numb and the coils of her curls solidified.

What a fool she was.

The bubble of portal popped and threw her out. She gasped, tumbling onto a stone floor. Air whooshed from her lungs as she struck with such force that her ribs creaked.

Laying on the ground, she tried to find her bearings. Dim, grey light revealed shadows but no solid forms. The floor was solid stone, so she wasn’t outside. The air was stale. It tasted like dust and something she couldn’t quite name. Rotten, but sweet. She could hear a soft sound above. A dull shush, a scrape of something heavy brushing against stone.

That was impossible. There couldn’t be anything above her, not something that weighed enough to make that sound.

Curling her hands into fists, she squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten. She was brave. She was strong. Fear would not force her to curl into a ball and weep.