Page 14 of The Mortal Queen

“Tell me, what do mortals tell their princesses about the wilderness?” Lir asked, the vibrations in his chest thrumming against Aisling’s back.

“That the Aos Sí hide within their depths, eager to kill mortal men, steal their women and devour their children,” Aisling said, more honestly than she’d intended. Lir grinned,exposing his sharp canines that never ceased to surprise Aisling—even more so than his pointed ears.

“And do you believe those stories?” he asked, his voice low, nearly a purr.

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” she replied, considering the horde of Aos Sí that trailed behind them, suspiciously eyeing the trees as though they might leap from their roots and attack in a moment’s notice. “Do the Aos Sí forbid their subjects from the wilderness as well?”

“No,” Lir said, shaking his head as if it was a ridiculous notion. As if the idea that the mortals did just that disgusted him. “But even the Sidhe must be wary of its depths.”

“Is there something out there?” Aisling asked, suddenly more attuned to the eerie silence.

Aisling craned her neck to meet Lir’s eyes, feline and green enough to challenge the surrounding woodland. But he hesitated as if considering whether to tell her something.

A branch broke to the right of their procession. Lir tore his gaze from Aisling, expression darkening as he followed the source of the noise.

The stags grunted, stubbornly prancing as the fair folk drew their weapons. But Aisling saw no movement in the forest beyond.

The cavalcade stood frozen for what felt like an eternity.

“Ar aglaidh aoise coirrigh don fúile are orailt!” Lir called to his men, shattering the quiet, to which they nodded and, at last, continued.

Before Aisling could ask any more questions Lir spoke in her ear, “At my command, close your eyes.”

Aisling opened her mouth to protest but instead, thought better of it, nodding her head in response. Something must be wrong.

Several moments passed, the silence thickening, becoming unbearable as they trudged onward. No one spoke, whistled, or laughed. The world was holding its breath, waiting toexhale. Until Lir bent lower to whisper once more in the queen’s ear.

“Close your eyes, Aisling,” he said, her name on his lips strangely intoxicating. In the mortal world, only those closest to a lady were permitted to use her first name. His use of it was wickedly inappropriate. Although was it? He was her husband, after all, even if they were strangers and enemies at that.

“Don’t open them until I say.”

Lir tightened his grip on the reins, one arm reaching for an axe strapped to his back.

Fear rippled through Aisling but she did as he commanded, shutting her eyes. Focusing on the darkness.

The silence persisted, only interrupted by the sound of her beating heart, her racing pulse, rushing through the veins in her ears. And as if they’d stepped into the blackest depths of the sea, the air grew cold. Aisling’s ears popped from the pressure weighing heavily on her shoulders, her head, her legs like an invisible hand threatening to squash her flat.

She focused on her breathing. Her only anchor to the outside world was Lir’s embrace, the hardness of his chest against her back, his legs against her own, and the steady gait of their mount.

From the silence, somewhere in the muffled distance, Aisling heard female voices. A swarm of incantations, whispering, humming wildly. Hungrily.

Initially, their song was lovely, alluring, familiar as if inspired by a childhood memory, perverted only in the slightest. She could feel every word as if it had a texture of its own, silky, oily, eager to touch her. Aisling craved to hear the song more clearly, to better understand every note and intonation of their melody.

Lir’s breath shortened, his fae heart pacing more quickly.

The symphony of voices rose, screaming, banging against the fortress of silence that surrounded her, a bubbledampening their vile yet wondrous chorus. Aisling had never heard anything like it and a part of her considered opening her eyes. What damage could be done from one peek?

But in an instant, stepping from that muffled, far-off chamber, the music stopped. The sounds of the world returned, and the birds chirped wildly, flapping their wings. The pressure faded and Aisling’s ears, once again, adjusted.

“Open your eyes,” Lir commanded.

Lir challenged their stag for the remainder of the trek, urging the beast to ride more quickly. The trees became a blur as the fae king guided them through the forest, leaping across streams and trunks and gliding down muddy slopes. His knights mirrored his pace, watching the surrounding wood with narrowed eyes. The trees seemed to bend lower, daring to touch one of their newfound guests. Seemed to whisper to one another when they believed no one to be looking.

Aisling found herself both willing and unwilling to peer into the depths of the forest. There was a fear there, a terror brewing within that she might see something she could never unsee. For what could strike such a response from the most lethal predators themselves? Still, her eyes studied the greenwood, unable to unlatch themselves from the shadows lurking between, the moss blanketed boulders or the trees whose trunks were so large, eight men could not wrap their arms around them.

No one spoke or sheathed their weapons for several hours after.

“What happened back there?” Aisling asked, more aware of the shadows that slipped between the trees.

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