Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld #1)(72)

“Fair enough,” Sorcha murmured. “I’ll have to ask Bran if he has any idea.”

The Queen froze, and the King stiffened. He cocked his head to the side and lifted a long finger to point at her. “What does this Bran look like?”

Sorcha gestured at her face. “Half raven, half man. He has feathers, a raven eye, and the leg of a bird.”

Echoes of laughter came from all directions of the room. They bounced atop the ceiling and shook the webs.

The Queen shook her head, still chuckling. “Ah, you have met my ugliest son then.”

Ugly? The royals in front of her were anything but pretty. How could Bran be considered the ugly one?

The King shook his head. “Unseelie do not value beauty in the same way the Seelie do. He is too human, too weak, and can only change his form into a raven. Pathetic excuse for a child, but then, he is the youngest. We do not have to worry about him taking the throne any time soon. Be gone, human. Tell my boy to come home soon. His sisters miss him.”

One of the albino daughters lifted her hands as if she were pleading. Were these creatures even capable of such emotions? Did they miss their family or did they miss the way they might torture them?

Sorcha didn’t plan to stay and find out. Bowing so low that her forehead nearly touched the floor, she whispered, “It was an honor, Your Majesties.”

“An honor?” The Queen tsked. “Oh dearie, the Unseelie do not like lies. You may want to run, for my children are hungry and your fear tastes sweeter than wine.”

Sorcha did not have to be told twice. She’d counted each step as she followed the Queen and knew the way back to the portal.

Spinning, she raced down the stairs taking them two at a time. It didn’t matter that she might trip and fall. Breaking her neck would be a blessing if it meant freedom from this hellish castle.

Breath sawed in and out of her lungs until she tasted blood. Screaming laughter chased her, goblins and trolls whooping and hollering as they tracked her. Down the corridors she flew until she couldn’t hear them anymore.

She slowed to a walk, holding her ribs as they ached from overuse. Why did she ever wear the dresses Pixie gave her? They were too tight!

Oona, she corrected herself. Pixie’s name was Oona.

She smiled at the thought. Oona might not be pleased, but it was a beautiful name and Sorcha would never use it without permission. It was the third Fae name she held. How lucky a woman was she?

The portal room remained untouched. Fog swirled across the ground, lifting in tendrils that looked like hands reaching for help. Sorcha walked through them. She had to remember that these were Unseelie Lands and did not live by the same laws.

She couldn’t help those who were suffering without condemning herself to the same fate.

Sorcha pulled her cloak around her when cold air drifted underneath its folds. She shivered and peered into the darkness to find the watery portal, or even the barest hint of leaves.

There. In the deepest shadows between leaves and branches, she recognized a familiar stone wall.

Brushing aside ivy and moss, she placed her hands against its cold stone surface.

“There you are,” she said. “It’s time to go home.”

Nothing happened. She scraped her hands all over the edges, but couldn’t open the portal. Nothing seemed to work, no gemstone in a sword that she could push, no whispered words.

“Oh, what have you done?” she whispered into the night. “How am I supposed to go home now?”

“Portals are magic, you know,” a familiar voice echoed. Deep and baritone, she had only heard it once before.

Sorcha turned on her heel, pivoting to glare at the Unseelie Fae who stood behind her. “Bran.”

“Sorcha.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same question. Don’t you know that the Otherworld is dangerous for humans?”

“I could say the same for Unseelie. It’s worse here, so I’ve heard.”

“Ah, there are so many bad stories about my kind.” He grinned, his raven eye dancing to and fro while the human eye remained locked on her. “Not all stories are true, little human.”

“You’ve been kind thus far.” She pressed her spine against the wall. “I would ask you continue to do the same.”

“I hear you met my parents.”

“And some of your siblings as well. I would never have guessed you came from such parentage.”

“Where did you think I came from? A bird?”

“Certainly, something that suggests the same species,” she gritted through clenched teeth. “You lied to me. You didn’t tell me you were an Unseelie prince!”

“I was not aware that you were privy to such knowledge.”

Sorcha blinked in shock, her jaw falling open. “How dare you even say such a thing? You traveled across the sea with me! You followed me from the MacNara’s, and you teased me in front of Stone. I would even go so far as to muse that you were behind him moving me into the castle!”

“Do you think I’m looking out for you, I wonder?”

“Why else would you be following me?”

“Because the MacNara twins paid me to? Perhaps I wished to infiltrate your ‘Stone’s’ castle. Or maybe I wanted to drag you here to be my slave.” He cocked his head to the side. “There are plenty of reasons and none of them kind.”