Page 127 of Across an Endless Sea

All of them shake their heads. “Fae are long-lived,” Florian cautions. “Respecting the old ways is—for many of them—respecting the times of their youth. Plus, it will do them good to see you. Twenty-five years without a Nicnevin has been hard on everyone.”

“I’m here!” Kitarni announces, flowing into the room with Prae in tow. “Sorry, my lady, I was held up dealing with—”

“Some utter pricks,” Prae finishes. “You people may hate Fomorians, but at least we don’t have an upper class that treats our ‘divine leader’ like utter shit.”

“It’s nothing I’m not prepared to deal with.” Kitarni waves her concerns off and takes a seat beside me.

Her sitting prompts the rest of the room to follow her lead. Jaro takes the spot on my other side, and Bram takes a space on Florian’s left. Prae eyes the remaining spot—on Florian’s right—warily. Raising a brow when he pats the cushion.

“There’s no use standing around,” he mutters, defensively, as if he can’t bear to be caught offering something nice to a Fomorian.

His hand stills, and he frowns. Shoving aside the cushion, he pulls out a tattered book, then snorts, brows rising in surprise.

“I haven’t seen this in ages,” he murmurs, passing it to Bram.

The two of them are so engrossed by the tiny, tattered book that they forget Prae, who’s edging away from the seat in favour of leaning against the wall beside the fireplace.

“Songhold Magicians?” Bram smirks. “You used to read it to me before bed. Of course, you’d be the one to find…”

Then Bram pauses, eyes widening as he looks between Florian and Kitarni, frowning. The two brothers’ eyes meet, and something wordless passes between them. Suddenly, I feel oddly left out. Like I’m missing some secret family code, and a pang of homesickness hits me out of nowhere.

Tom and I once shared those looks.

A hand lands on my thigh, squeezing softly and breaking my train of thought entirely. I glance down, then up at Jaro, shocked at the casual intimacy but equally glad for the distraction from my maudlin thoughts. He reads my face for a second—checking I’m okay with his touch—before he relaxes. His thumb starts to trace back and forth across my skin, raising goosebumps in its wake.

“Anyway,” the high priestess continues, before Bram can say anything more. “People are already gathering in the town of Marlen, just across the border with the Spring Court to see you off. It’s the traditional starting point for the pilgrimage.”

Florian takes over. “Once your coronation is complete, Lorcan will blink you and the rest of your Guard to this valley.” He points at a spot just beyond the city. “Where you’ll be met by horses.”

Great. Riding. Because I’m so good at that. Knowing my luck, my guides will show up to help me with something, and my horse will spook again.

A few chuckles go around as my expression makes clear what I think of the plan.

“Drystan has already insisted that you’ll be riding with him, rather than on your own,” Kitarni reassures me. “Eventually, Wraith will be large enough that you might consider riding him, since he’s unlikely to be spooked by your necromancy.”

Ride Wraith?I cast a glance over to the large fireplace in the corner where the barghest is currently flopped on his back, taking up the whole rug as he snoozes with his black tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Sure, he’s almost as large as a pony—and the full grown barghests I saw on Samhain were easily larger—but would that even work? A few of the spirits rode on the backs of barghests during the Wild Hunt, but those were spirits—literally weightless…

Florian nods. “Lore might have more of an insight on whether such a thing would work. He’s been training the beast, after all.”

“Lore’s been training Wraith?” I ask, confused.

I suppose it explains how the barghest knew to attack Caed, but that doesn’t fit in with what I’d expect of the chaotic redcap at all. Playing with Wraith—certainly. Training him? That seems like it would require a level of planning and patience that I’ve never seen him express.

“You forget, my lady,” Kitarni says. “Before he was called to your Guard, Lorcan was Queen Cressida’s most feared assassin.”

He was?

When was anyone going to tell me that?

“He may act like an idiot,” Jaro confirms. “But the bastard hasn’t lived this long without something taking up the space between his ears.”

“We’re getting off topic,” Florian complains. “The point is, after the coronation, you’ll ride to the village of Marlen. You’ll visit the temple there, perform your duties as Danu incarnate—”

“Which I will help you with,” Kitarni promises.

“Then start your trip along the road to Pavellen,” Florian finishes drawing a line with his finger between Marlen, along a river and to the Spring Court capital. “Having your full Guard protecting you is a relief because it means I can keep the knights here to defend the city. With Caed on our side, there’s no way for the Fomorians to track you down. You should be perfectly safe with only your males.”

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