Page 12 of The Dark Sea Calls

The ballroom hushed as the Siren Queen revealed herself, but she didn’t make a single sound. Even with the sway of her golden embellishments, she appeared to be in a vacuum—perhaps she was cloaked in a spell to steal the sound around her.

The nest was empty from one blink to the next. A single black finger, the nail long and pointed, curled over my chest, caressing a tendril of my filthy white hair.

The Siren Queen let out a breathy chuckle as she sauntered past me until we were face to face. Her steps made no sound; her wings dragging along the stone were also eerily silent.

She brought her taloned finger to her lips, running her tongue along the digit. Tasting blood. I reached up and pressed my hand to my cheek, feeling the sting of a cut that I hadn’t felt made.

My fingers shook.

She could kill me, and I wouldn’t see it coming. That thought scared me more than anything I had faced before.

Her obsidian eyes met mine, more amused than challenging. She took her time as she studied me. “I know who you are,” she said without inflection. “I knowwhatyou are, child of Belisama.”

All water fae were children of Belisama.

“You taste like a Cruinn.” She cocked her head to the side and blinked, the motion distinctly bird-like. “And I would recognize that scar anywhere. The only question is: why is it on your face? When I know that Queen Caoimhe had the same markings when she took to the water. Last I heard, she didn’t have a child, and the many spies I have in your lake told me that Irving Cruinn took the throne. A throne that would have passed down to Caoimhe’s daughter if she had one.”

I said nothing.

“What brings you to the Dark Sea, Cruinn?” The Siren Queen stepped closer into my personal space. She was a head shorter than me, but her magic was immense. I felt it burn and crackle against my skin like a bonfire. “Will the king miss you? Should I call him?”

“Call him?” I licked my dry lips.

“My Hall of Silvers.” The queen waved her hands. “Mirrors spelled to allow conversations and travel across great distances. Queen Caoimhe gifted one to me many years ago.”

I licked my dry lips. “I came here because my home is at war,” I said, offering no more explanation.

The Siren Queen nodded as if my answer was acceptable. “Tell me, does the heart of the Lake beat for that gods’ forsaken King Irvine?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling the phantom pain of the High Throne and its bloodthirsty stone. I made no move to answer her question.

The Siren clucked her tongue before allowing her eyes to flick to Arden’s. “How was your journey from the Cove?” Changing the subject as if she hadn’t just threatened to call the king of the Undine and report my presence. Whatever happened, I knew that I needed to remain on the Siren Queen’s good side until I could make a plan.

Arden nodded stiffly. “Good.”

The Siren Queen let out a self-deprecating laugh and waved her hand. “Do you see what I have to deal with? Getting information from my son is like pulling teeth.”

My eyes flicked to Arden’s. I said nothing.

“You are not the first Undine to claim asylum with the Sirens. We have known what it is to be outcasts. Torn away from our home because of greedy kings.” The Siren Queen turned to the crowd, gesturing to a group of waiting Fae.

I followed her gaze, and my hands flew to my mouth as I bit back a sob that was several parts relief and disbelief mixed together.

“Moira?” I stammered.

Chapter 3

I ran forward, my feet slapping against the stone floor, until I slammed into my best friend and buried my face in her red hair.

Moira-Cora Fen of the Esteemed Undine Court had been my friend since I had been a youngling, skulking about the castle and hiding behind tapestries to avoid my stepmother Elaine.

Moira had been one of the only courtiers to speak to me, even knowing I was the Mad Queen’s daughter. I knew Moira for her striking amethyst adornments, though they were nowhere to be seen above water. Moira’s emerald-green eyes filled with tears as she clung to me as if she couldn’t believe I was truly in front of her.

I knew because I felt the same way.

“You escaped,” she said as we broke apart, touching her lips with shaking fingers. “I thought the Mer had killed you.”

I smiled, but there was no joy in it. “I thought the same of you. I thought they’d killed you in your sleep to take me.”

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