“Yeah, well, that’s a prince for you.” Nollaig huffed. “Unfortunately, Tarrah thinks he’s needed here. As long as that’s the case, you two are going to have to coexist in peace somehow. Otherwise, the quest fails.”
“Maybe I want to sabotage this quest.”
“You don’t. Because if we fail, the wood king wins. And as much as you hate us, you hate him even more.” Nollaig reached out and gave Reyna’s shoulder an awkward pat. “We’re on the same side, Princess Reyna.”
“We are not,” she growled in response.
“Okay.” With that, Nollaig turned and trailed down the tunnel, her cloak billowing behind her like a wraith.
A red glow loomed large down the path ahead. The party exited the tunnels and strode into a cavern that looked like something straight out of the fire realm. The rock walls around them crumbled from a blasting heat that sank deep into Reyna’s skin. The parched ground led to a thin, rocky path over the center of the floor. On either side of that path were pools of churning, molten lava.
Swallowing hard, Reyna stopped.
“What is this?” she asked as evenly as possible.
Nollaig turned toward her, and even the darkness of her cloak looked crimson in the deep reddish light. “We need to go through here to reach the other gate.”
Reyna pointed at the lava. “That looks like death.”
“Accurate,” Nollaig said. “It’s molten iron. Fall in, and you’re not getting out.”
Reyna’s eyes bugged out of her head. “It’s iron?”
“I don’t like it either, but Unseelie will keep us safe,” Tarrah said in a soft voice, her hollow eyes glued on the roiling lava.
“Come,” Nollaig said. “The path is short.”
Reyna didn’t like it, but she also had no choice. She could feel her vows tugging her forward, away from safety and toward the molten iron that would be poison to her fae skin. Grimacing, she followed after the others, stepping carefully on the jagged, cracked ground. Mist swirled around them.
Suddenly, a heavy blast of wind slammed into Reyna’s side. Her balance faltered. She stumbled forward, and her foot caught on crumbling stone. She tipped over the side of the path, a terrified shriek ripping from her throat. Throwing out her arms, she grabbed the edge as she fell, her fingernails digging into the rough stone. Her legs dangled beneath her, and the heat of the lava melted the bottoms of her boots.
Wingallock screamed, darting frantically through the cavern.
Terror burned through her as she clung on with every ounce of strength within her body. She did not dare glance down. She didn’t need to. The churning sea of red was alive in her mind’s eye. Molten iron. Even if she survived the heat, she would never live through the poison of the iron.
Not even a fae before the Fall could survive that.
Sucking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes. Deep down in her soul she knew, she was going to die.
A warm, strong hand curled around her wrist. Another soon followed, rougher and courser than the first. Gritting her teeth, she stared up to see Lorcan and Nollaig leaning over the ledge. They held onto her as tightly as they could. Determination clung to the harsh set of Lorcan’s jaw, his eyes sparking with the red glow of the lava beneath Reyna’s dangling feet.
Nollaig wound her hand under Reyna’s shoulder. “We’ve got you. Let go, and we’ll pull you over.”
Reyna swallowed hard and nodded, releasing her desperate hold on the ledge. Instantly, the world dropped out from beneath her, and she bit back a scream. Nollaig grunted as she took Reyna’s weight, toppling slightly forward. But Lorcan pulled her back, and then reached down and wrapped an arm around Reyna’s waist.
He pulled hard. They all collapsed into a heap on the ledge. Relief was an avalanche on top of her. Reyna pressed her cheek against the comforting coolness of the stone and sucked in frantic breath after breath. She’d almost died. She would have died…if Lorcan had not saved her life.
A soft gasp echoed in the cave. Reyna glanced up to see Tarrah standing over her, her cheeks white and her eyes as round as moons. “Are you all right, Shieldmaiden?”
A tiny chunk of ice that surrounded Reyna’s heart threatened to break away from the wall she’d erected to keep herself safe. But she just stared up at the shadow fae, grumbling, “I’ll never be fine as long as I’m a prisoner.”
Reyna climbed to her feet, inwardly sighing as Wingallock’s comforting form settled onto her shoulder. She always felt better with him there. He brushed his feathers against her face, cooing.
Nollaig pushed up from the ground, brushing the dirt from her midnight cloak. “You’re welcome for saving your life.”
Reyna glared at her, refusing to turn her eyes toward Lorcan. He had helped save her, too, even after she’d admitted to her plot against Thane. Maybe it was instinctual. Or maybe he was just following orders, same as the rest of them. “You only saved me because your king believes I’m going to save your court from getting slaughtered in your war with the Wood Court. In any other situation, you would have let me fall.”
“Yes, because we’re bloodthirsty monsters who enjoy watching fae get swallowed up by pools of molten iron,” Nollaig said, her voice full of an eye roll.
“Well, I’m glad we’re in agreement,” Reyna said.
“The day we’re in agreement is the day it snows in Findius,” Lorcan snapped. He pushed his way past them. “Let’s stop stalling and get on with it. Reyna, watch your feet. Next time, I might not be in the mood to help you. These lot have orders to keep you alive.” He paused, and Reyna’s heart paused right along with him. She knew what he’d say next. She wanted him to say it, if only because it would prove that he was exactly everything she feared he was. Next time, I’ll let you die. But instead, he said, “My father knows I don’t need orders to keep you alive. But for the love of the Dadga, Reyna, I wish I did. Fuck, I wish I did.”
For once, Tarrah didn’t even correct his reference to the ‘wrong god’ as he strode gruffly down the rest of the path, reaching the lava cave exit and disappearing through the gap.
“You two have a very complicated relationship,” Nollaig remarked, clearly over the lack of a ‘thank you’ far sooner than Lorcan.
“I wouldn’t call mutual hatred a relationship,” Reyna said, staring into the shadows where Lorcan disappeared. She was pretty certain he had done his shadowy vanishing act, which did not bode well for the success of the mission. Not that she wanted him to be part of the mission. Tarrah had said he was important. That was the only reason she wanted him to stay.
Tarrah gave her a knowing smile. The color in her cheeks had returned. “Mutual hatred?”
“What else would you call it?”
Nollaig and Tarrah exchanged a look.
“L,” Tarrah said.
“O.”
“V.”
“Enough.” Reyna rolled her eyes and brushed off her trousers, flinging the dirt into the roiling molten lava below. “I just almost died because of falling into that iron sea, remember? We should get out of this cave before another one of us ends up encased in poison.”
Tarrah beamed. “You just said ‘another one of us’ as if you’d rather see us live than die. We’re making progress.”