Though Cormac eyed me as if to say‘no shit, princess’when I whispered the thought.
Maybe it was the tiredness speaking, or simply the desire to play out the god's plan. Still, neither of us showed any sign of objection, as more and more wolves poured out of the trees and ushered us down an overgrown path.
“This forest feels like aGairidpath,” I whispered, remembering the doorways between the Skala Beach and the Nymph Village. Pockets of reality that bent to hasten a journey, based on the desire to move quickly.
Cormac nodded his agreement and kept his voice low. “The wolves are herding us.”
“Cethlenn mentioned the Wild Hunt, but fae-hounds ride with the Huntsman—not wolves.” I chewed my bottom lip.
“Wolf-Kin.” Cormac clipped. “These are Wild Fae.”
Beyond the flash of fur or a glowing eye in the distance, the beasts were near silent.
Finally, the forest grew sick of us, spitting us out further down the road. I tripped over a root, hidden by the undergrowth, and Cormac caught my elbow.
The trees ended unceremoniously, as if they had been ordered to lie flat. One moment, amidst an ancient forest, andthe next, surrounded by a sprawling lawn—grass cut curiously low, as if it were frightened to grow more than an inch.
The wind tumbled over the grass, ruffling the blades, an ocean of green. The air smelled like lilacs and wet fur.
Cethlenn had told us that Lugh would not make a weapon.
But I had to try.
I couldn’t return to the Twilight Lake empty-handed.
We ventured further into the grass, the lawn too exposed; the wolves, hidden at the treeline, watched our journey.
A strange castle rose up from beyond a mound.
Towers extended to the clouds, moving as if the ground and the sky were one and the same. The buildings twisted, moving in circles with repetitive ticking noises. Staircases rotated between each tower. Made of brick, shimmering metal, and limestone, cobbled together into thousands of moving parts. Some monolithic and others no bigger than my hand.
The front door was virtually unusable, located at the top of a marble staircase that circled around the arch before slotting into place on the ground, waiting for us to walk through.
“My father once brought home a device from the land,” Cormac said, eying the oscillating castle. “He called it a clock and said it was used to tell time.”
“Tell time?” I echoed.
“Landfae like to name the hours in the day. They count them, so they might know when to eat and sleep.” His voice was absent-minded as he studied the castle as if it would upend itself and roll away. “This castle looks like a clock.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” I frowned.
“We should hurry before the door decides to do another circuit.” Cormac had already begun up the steps, without waiting for me to follow.
The wolves stepped away from the treeline, forming a haunting audience as we rushed up the steps. Cormac opened the door and found little resistance, though it didn’t seem attached to the rest of the castle.
Despite the nonsensical nature of the front door, with nothing behind it, the door opened to an expansive foyer. The cogs began to rotate as I jumped through, leaving me with the sensation that although my feet were on the ground, they shouldn’t have been.
I exhaled a shaky breath. “Do you think this is the right place?”
Cormac held onto my arm to steady me. “Well, even if it isn’t, those wolves really wanted us here, and I don’t tend to argue with Wild Fae.”
I snorted a laugh. “You do nothing but argue with Rainn. And Tormalugh, for that matter.”
Cormac rubbed his chin. “You’re the only one allowed to call him that, you know. If I used his full name, he’d fillet me.”
“You’d deserve it,” I told him. “I don’t know how you’re all friends, you needle each other something awful!”
“Almost like siblings.” Cormac shot me a smile. A rare one without a hint of arrogance. “Though I can’t speak for the others, considering how much they fuck each other.”
