Page 64 of Across an Endless Sea

I’m hungry, and there’s nothing to eat, which does nothing to help my mood.

It doesn’t help that I have nothing to do except wonder what the Fomorians are plotting now. Something in my gut is screaming at me to get out, to use Caed’s shirt as protection from the iron, open the door, and run.

Where would I go? I’m the most recognisable fae in Fellgotha, and whatever I’ve suffered at Caed’s and Prae’s hands will be a picnic compared to whatever the other Fomorians would gladly do if they got the chance.

I couldn’t even hide, seeing as Caed can track me wherever I go.

Even some of the fae want me dead, though I suppose their motives are kinder than the Fomorians’. Unfortunately for them, I’m still hoping for an eventuality where I get out of this mountain alive.

The door moves, and I jerk to my feet, expecting it to be Prae with an explanation of what the hell is going on.

No such luck.

A Fomorian looms in the space for a second before he shoves a female púca into the room. She has bright red hair, eyes as wide as dinner plates, and tattoos all over her face. Stumbling into the room, she sees me and drops into a deep bow just as the door is slammed closed behind her.

“Nicnevin.” Her voice cracks and breaks as she holds out a pile of frothy fabric in offering. “I’ve been sent to help you dress.”

Help me dress? This is a first for Fellgotha, and I’m instantly suspicious.

“Why?”

She stumbles, then bows again. “The king demands you wear it,” she says. “And… I believe it is quite complicated to get on…”

It definitely looks it, but Caed’s hissed warning echoes in my mind.

“Your Majesty,” the púca begins again, then falters, glancing over her shoulder at the door. “I believe the warriors outside have orders to force you into it if you don’t comply.”

My throat closes over, and I nod jerkily. This feels wrong, like Elatha is setting the stage for something, and I don’t want to find out what it is.

The púca heads into Caed’s bedroom, and I follow after her, looking over my shoulder at the door as we go.

I’m reluctant to bathe with unknown males outside, but I do it anyway, unwilling to risk the warriors outside forcing me into the pool if I refuse.

The dress is… beautiful. Worryingly so. It’s made of lace and diaphanous layers of soft cream chiffon with embellishments. It can’t have been crafted by the Fomorians, so I can only imagine it’s the spoils from one of their raids.

The púca stops abruptly when she sees the nathair tattoo on my forearm. I’d all but forgotten about it amidst all the drama, and the snake itself hasn’t moved since it left Bree and fused itself to my skin.

“Are you…” she begins, then snaps her mouth closed. “I’m sorry, my lady. I presume too much.”

Her eyes dart away, and her hands worry at the fabric she’s adjusting before getting back to work on the buttons along my spine.

“One of my Guard is a púca,” I reply softly. “He tried to save me, and somehow, it appears I stole one of his animals.”

I hope Bree is okay. I have no idea if he was wounded when he tried to rescue me. The bond between us is as shy and quiet as ever, and he has plenty of practice shielding me from it, so I wouldn’t know if anything was wrong unless he was dying.

The female nods, saying nothing, but she chews hard at her lower lip and diligently avoids Bree’s tattoo and my bangle as she works. Once again, there are no shoes to go with the outfit, so I’m barefoot as she ushers me from Caed’s room.

She disappears as soon as I’m in the corridor, leaving me alone with three hulking great warriors who waste no time in roughly shoving me forwards, muttering something in their language. They don’t slow down for me, and they laugh at how clumsy I am every time I trip over my own feet.

I never thought I’d miss being forced to hold Caed’s hand so much.

I don’t recognise where we are and that doesn’t change as we pass through a small side door and into a different great hall. It’s a similar size to the one where Caed was beaten, though there are no tables in this one.

A pit, deeper than I am tall, has been carved into the stone floor. The clash of blades echoes from within, though I can’t make out the fighters past the crowd surrounding it. Their roars of approval and encouragement drown out all other sounds, and they’re so engrossed in the fight that they don’t notice my entrance.

I don’t mind the anonymity as I search for Elatha and Caed, finding them side-by-side on a dais that gives them the best view of the combatants below. I don’t make a noise as I’m led up the steps towards them, but I can’t help but gasp as I get my first view at the inside of the blood-stained pit.

Prae is down there, struggling on her back with two daggers crossed above her, blocking a blow.

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