by Linsey Hall
“The tunnels pass under the entire moor?”
“Not the entire moor, but they’ll allow us to bypass the area where my Court is located.”
“That’s enough, then.”
I nodded, as determined as he was to avoid my Court. As much as I’d love them to come to my rescue, it was basically guaranteed that they’d try to lock me away somewhere safe and not allow me to go back for Connor.
There was no way I’d let that happen, that was for damned sure.
“Come on.” I started down the hill at a jog, avoiding the wetter spots and small dips in the ground where I could twist an ankle. It was easier to take the tracks across open moorland, but there wasn’t one leading directly to the old miner’s cottage.
“How long ago were these tunnels built?” the king asked as we ran.
“Some are as old as the sixteenth century, but construction stopped in the nineteenth. Tin mining was common here—for humans and Fae alike.” We Fae couldn’t use iron, but tin could make bronze, an excellent material for weapons. All of my axes were made of that metal, and I cherished it as one of the few reminders of home.
I slowed as I neared the cottage. A low stone wall surrounded it, and ducks milled about inside. The wooden gate creaked as I entered, and it felt like coming home. My heart tightened and my eyes pricked with tears.
The house itself was small and rectangular, made of dark stone with a thatched roof. Flowers grew around the front step, and the blue door was partially ajar.
“If the mining stopped in the nineteenth century, how is this miner still alive?” he asked.
“You’ll see.” I approached the door and knocked, calling out, “Steppen?”
“Yes?” The creaky old voice was heartbreakingly familiar.
I pushed open the door. “It’s me, Caera.”
It was the first time I’d spoken my own true name in years, and it came out a bit rusty.
The interior of the cottage looked as it always had—dark and low-ceilinged, with a clutter of objects all over the counters and table. It was an ancient place, at least a thousand years old, though it had been modified over time.
The figure in the middle of the little room gleamed a pale white. Steppen had been dead for nearly two centuries, but he’d never left his home except to visit the mines.
The ghostly man’s eyes widened at the sight of me. “Caera! I thought you were dead.”
“I’m sorry, Steppen.” When the prophecy had been laid down and we’d realized my fate, I’d had to run for it immediately. There’d been no time to tell my friends.
The effort had failed, since the Ice King had found me anyway.
“I heard about the prophecy.” The old ghost’s eyes flicked to the king. “Who are you?”
I tilted my head, wondering if I should tell my old friend the truth. I decided against it. He was too incorporeal to help me kill the king, and this wasn’t a good place anyway. His guard was up, and I’d definitely need it down.
Better to actually take him toward the seer and then launch my attack.
“A friend,” I said. “We’re trying to find a way to circumvent the prophecy.”
“After all these years?”
I nodded. “Hiding isn’t working out for me anymore. I’m going to attack the problem head-on.”
The old miner grinned. “That’s my girl.”
The words warmed me, and I took a half second to bask in fond memories before moving on to the task. “Steppen, we have to get to the Rowan Seer, but I don’t want to pass through Fae territory.”
He nodded, his eyes glinting with understanding. The Court of Fire existed near the center of the moor on a separate plane. We could try to pass over their land but make sure to stay on the human plane, but it was possible they’d sense our presence. Not to mention that there were many tors that acted as entrances to the realm. We might actually run into one of the Fire Fae if we got unlucky.
Lately, I’d been real unlucky.
“So you want a map of the tunnels?” Steppen asked.
“I was hoping you’d have one. There were many I didn’t explore, and I’m not sure how well I remember them.”
Steppen nodded. “Of course. Getting lost down there could be the end of you.” He gave me a wry smile.
Steppen had died in the tunnels long ago, having gotten lost while working. In his afterlife, he’d spent his time exploring. He was a powerful enough ghost that he could manipulate objects for a short period of time, and his passion these last two centuries had been creating maps of the tunnels.
“Thank you,” I said. “That would be amazing.”
He shuffled off to the corner of the cottage. While he searched for a map, I shared a look with the king. He appeared cold, as usual, but the light of interest gleamed in his eyes, which were riveted right to me.
“How do you know the miner?” the king asked.
“I explored the moor a lot as a child. I covered almost every inch—above ground, at least. Both my realm and the human one.” They were some of the best memories of my life. When I’d had to leave, it had been like tearing out my soul.
“I’ve got it!” Steppen raised an old piece of parchment, then approached. “Be careful with it. I have a copy, but it took a long time to make.”
“I’ll do my best. And thank you, Steppen.”
“Anything for you, child.”
I smiled at him, then gave him a quick hug. Touching him was a weird, shuddery experience, but it warmed me all the same. I slanted another glance at the king, wondering if he was processing all that he’d taken from me over the years.
It was impossible to read his expression.
Bastard.
Together, we departed in silence. When we stepped out into the sunlight, the warmth of it suffused me. After my time in the king’s cold Court, it felt amazing.
“Why don’t your people just leave?” I asked.
“We can’t. Not permanently, at least. We need the magic of the Court to survive. To be Fae.”
Of course. A Fae without a court wasn’t a true Fae at all.
“Do you know why the ice came?”
“We do not.”
I nodded. “That might be it, then. If the Rowan Seer can tell us, maybe we can stop it.”
His gaze met mine. “You don’t need to convince me anymore. We’re going.”
“Right. Then let’s get a move on. I know the closest entrance to the tunnels, and from there, we will consult the map.”
We took off at a run, loping across the moor. It was boggier in the shallow valleys between the hills, and I was grateful that my boots were waterproof. Every step on this ground felt massively significant, no doubt due to my long absence.
The entrance that we sought wasn’t far from Steppen’s cottage, and it was partially hidden by a ring of earth that had been piled up around it long ago. The dirt that had once been spoil from the digging was now covered with moorland grasses and shrubs, and I had to avoid the thorny gorse to reach the dark entrance.
The king stood at the edge, staring down into the gaping darkness as the wind whipped at his cloak. He glanced up at me. “If I didn’t know better, you’re leading me into a trap.”
“I haven’t been back here in so long that there’d be no way to plan a trap.” At least the words were honest.
He huffed out a wry laugh. “Fair enough. Let’s go.”
This particular tunnel entrance had been built so long ago that the wooden ladder that provided access was long gone.
“I am going to fly,” the king said. “I will carry you.”
I inspected the tunnel walls, debating whether I should try to find handholds and footholds in the rocky dirt or if I should just take him up on it.
I needed him to trust me though.
Or at least want me so badly that he would hesitate before sacrificing me. Touching would help with that.
“Thanks.”
He called upon his wings, and they flared behind his back, enormous an
d silver. They glittered and gleamed as if they were made of ice, and they were magnificent.
I was jealous and attracted at the same time.
Quietly, I drew in an unsteady breath. He reached for me, and I let him pick me up. Butterflies filled my stomach at the strength in his arms, the ease with which he cradled me to his chest. I wrapped my arm around his neck, careful to make sure that my bare skin brushed against his.
He shuddered, but said nothing. Heat suffused me.
I liked having this effect on him.
I might hate him, but damned if I didn't want him.
His wings carried us gracefully into the air, then we dropped into the tunnel. Darkness surrounded us, pressing in tightly. I called upon my flame, letting a glowing ball form in front of us. It illuminated the mine shaft, which traveled nearly seventy feet below ground.
I clung to the king’s strong shoulders, his arms wrapped around me like iron bands.
Unable to help myself, I blurted, “What’s your name?”
He hesitated, as if debating whether or not he would divulge that intimate detail. The king of the Ice Fae always had a royal name, passed down through the generations. I recalled vaguely that his family name was Icenia.
But that wasn’t his real name.
“Well?” I prodded.
“Iain.” He landed and set me down before I could respond, but I decided the name was unfairly good for someone who was going to kill me.
I stepped away and pulled the map from my pocket, then unfolded it so I could see the entire thing. The golden glow of my fireball illuminated the map, and I studied the many squiggly lines.
Iain joined me, standing almost too close as he inspected the map. A few inches separated our clothed arms, and tension prickled in the space between.
“Humans built all this?” His tone sounded impressed.
“Much of it, yes. But there are earth sprites who have expanded it. Their work keeps Steppen busy.”
“He’s determined.”
“He died down here because he got lost. It’s a compulsion.” It was that same compulsion that kept him on earth as a ghost instead of allowing him to cross over.
I pointed to a small, unmarked area at the top of the map. “This is a mineshaft exit that is closest to the Rowan Seer.”
Iain pointed to a path cutting through the middle. “Then we’ll take this one.”
“For a ways, yes. But we’ll need to deviate to avoid the sprites.”
“They’re hostile?”
“They can be. And I can’t guarantee we’ll avoid them entirely, but we should try.”
He nodded and I folded the map back up and tucked it into my pocket, then set off down the tunnel. The glowing ball of fire preceded me down the old tunnel, lighting the way. Wooden beams supported the ceiling above us, and the vaguest sense of claustrophobia hit me. My flame could protect me from many things, but not from a cave-in.
I swallowed hard and picked up the pace, but he had no trouble keeping up.
“Do you like being king?” I asked, hoping that conversation would lower his boundaries.
And in my experience, royalty had a big ego. He’d probably like talking about himself.
“It’s fine.”
The words hung in the air, and he was clearly done talking about it.
“Fine?” I prodded. “That’s it?”
“Does it look like my kingdom is a good time right now?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Precisely. My job is to save my people. To do that, I must sacrifice my fated mate. So no, I don’t particularly enjoy being king.”
Wow. That was a lot more words than I’d been expecting from the taciturn man who’d abducted me and my brother without a word.
I followed the tunnel around the left-hand bend that the map had promised and stepped into a narrower section that wasn’t supported by beams.
“Did the earth sprites create this part of the tunnel?” Iain asked.
“I believe so.” I kept my senses alert.
The walls were dotted here and there with torches that had long ago burned out. According to lore, the little earth sprites worshiped fire. I couldn’t blame them—it was so dark and cold down here that I was craving some light and warmth myself.
Deeper and deeper we went into the tunnels. I kept thinking of questions to ask, but I bit them back. I wanted him comfortable around me so I could more easily attack, but we were in dangerous territory here.
Something shifted up ahead, a shadow darting across the tunnel.
“Did you see that?” Iain murmured.
“Yeah.” I tried to keep my muscles loose, ready to draw a weapon from the ether. I didn’t want to do it yet, just in case the sprites were peaceful. No need to start a fight that didn’t need to happen.
We stepped into a slightly larger part of the tunnel, and my foot got stuck.
I yanked it, trying to pull it off the ground.
It didn’t move.
Frowning, I looked back at my trapped limb. A pile of earth had grown up around my ankle, imprisoning most of my boot in the ground.
Which blinked at me.
The ground had eyes.
Shit.
“I’m stuck.” Iain’s voice dragged my attention to him. Both of his feet were encased in the solid earth.
All around us, the ground rippled like small waves of earth. The light from my fireball gleamed on the surface, glinting off of eyes that appeared to be stuck in the ground. The earth sprites looked like lumps of rock that flowed along the ground, each possessing two eyes but no limbs.
“The earth sprites.” I yanked harder on my trapped foot, but another earth sprite had joined the first. I was stuck all the way up to my knee. Soon, they’d cover my entire body, encasing me in stone.
8
Iain drew his sword from the ether.
“No!” I held out my hand. “Don’t.”
“I’m quick. I can have them all dead in less than a minute.”
“There are more. Not here, but all throughout the tunnels. Even if you kill these, they’ll still come for us. And they’ll probably be pissed.”
He frowned, lips tense.
My mind raced, searching for a solution. More earth sprites piled up around my leg, looking like little lumps of stone with eyes. My other foot was trapped, as well. My heart thundered in my ears and my stomach pitched. They could bury us in rock.
I searched the tunnel, looking for anything that could help.
My gaze landed on the dead torches along the walls.
Fire.
I called upon my magic, feeling the heat rise within me. Pain followed, burning from within, and I released the magic into the tunnel. The torches that lined the walls burst into flame, the orange glow filling the dark place.
The eyes in the ground flared wide, hundreds of them darting toward the flames on the walls. They surged toward the heat, climbing up on the walls as waves of rock. The stone that surrounded our limbs disappeared, and those creatures followed the others toward the fire.
“Quick thinking,” Iain said.
“One of my many skills.” I shot him a grin.
“Modest.”
“Nope. But talented. You should probably keep me alive. I can be very useful.”
His gaze shuttered, and I could read his thoughts as if he’d shouted them. But not before a bit of pain flashed there.
I’d be most useful dead, sacrificed to save his people. But he didn’t want to do it.
My jaw tightened. “Let’s go.”
We ran down the tunnel, moving quickly away from the sprites that were going crazy around the flames. When we were far enough away from them, I called upon another fireball to light our way. It floated in front of us as we ran. I followed the twists and turns from memory and only once needed to take the map out of my pocket.
Soon, we reached a rock wall that almost filled the tunnel. There was a gap at the bottom, about ten feet long and two feet high. Darkness emanated
from it, along with a rushing sound.
I crouched low and peered into the darkness. My fireball flew into the space, highlighting a massive cavern filled with water. A huge whirlpool spun within it, violent and deadly. The ceiling of the cavern hovered only a few feet above the water.
The space within was too small to fly through.
Shit.
I should have attacked Iain sooner. It was clear there wasn’t enough time to make him love me so much he wouldn’t sacrifice me, which left only attack. Except he would be strongest here, by the water. I’d have to wait.
“I can’t fly through that,” he said.
“No kidding.” His wings were enormous. Maybe a child with tiny wings could make it. Not a Fae as massive as he was.
The whirlpool was so deadly that we’d never be able to swim it without drowning, and the tunnel seemed determined to force us through. Had Steppen realized this was here when he’d sent us? Or would the water not have represented a threat to the ghost, so he didn't bother recording it?
I glanced at Iain. “Can you do something about the water?”
His magic was already filling the air by the time I finished the sentence. The whirlpool itself smelled a bit muddy and stale—this water had been here a long time. But Iain’s power smelled of fresh salt air. The cool breeze rushed over my face.
He raised his hands and his aura glowed a fierce, bright ice blue. Magic swelled, and the water began to slow.
His jaw clenched as he worked, controlling the massive force of the water. His strength awed me, and the whirlpool slowed to a halt.
“Go,” he gritted out. “We’ll need to swim fast.”
Crap. I hated swimming.
But I was dead at the end of this if we didn’t reach the Rowan Seer, so I didn’t even hesitate as I dived into the water. It closed over my head, cold and shocking, and I pushed myself toward the surface.
I swam as fast as I could, lungs and muscles burning. Iain stayed right at my side, though I was certain he could have swum a lot faster.
The water began to push me right, and I gave my kicks more power.
“Hurry.” Iain’s voice cut through the sound of splashing. “It’s growing stronger.”
The current pushed harder, and I tried to fight it. I was strong enough for just about anything.
