Page 15 of The Mortal Queen

“Dryads,” Lir said, his voice distant as though his mind was otherwise occupied.Even his muscles remained taut long after the encounter.

Dryads? Aisling had never heard of such creatures. The only races mortal subjects were made privy to were humans and the Aos Sí. But even the resources written on the fair folk were limited, authored by the mortal monarchs and their respective courts. Endeavoring to find information elsewhere was considered treasonous, to deny the authority of the mortal sovereigns, those who wrote the pragmatic truth of the beginning of the world and all things after. The beacon of light to the twisting darkness that was the Forbidden Lore. For the only other literature that chronicled the conception and making of the world was the Forbidden Lore, a library of texts written by the original twelve fae kings and queens. Rumor had it that such a collection was commissioned by the gods themselves. In the eyes of mortals, however, such sources were filled with lies and manipulations unfit to educate mankind.

“In time, you’ll learn of all who occupy this world and beyond,” Lir said, seeming to sense Aisling’s confusion.

All who occupy this world and beyond. There were others? More than just the humans and the Aos Sí? Among them, creatures that startled even the fae king himself? Aisling’s mind spun, throbbed at her temples. The royal tutors, Friseal—the Tilrish court advisor himself—and those who had educated Aisling––Starn, Fergus, Iarbonel, and Annind––had never mentioned such possibilities. Perhaps Lir’s words were the lies and manipulations she’d been forewarned of. But she’d heard these dryads herself…hadn’t she?

“They will try to deceive you. They will spin lies as easily as they spin their thread,” Nemed had told her in the carriage. One of the last things he had said to her.

“I’d like to see them. All of them,” Aisling said, hardening her voice. Lir whipped his attention towards her, studying her expression.

“In time,” he repeated. “There are beings out there even Ideign to face—much less a mortal?—”

“You need not coddle me,” Aisling growled. If she was to live amongst this primordial race, amongst the enemy of her own kind, she would need to know its dangers. Familiarize herself with the world she’d been sacrificed to.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, princess,” Lir replied, irritation tightening his expression.

Before Aisling could respond, the fae king brought their stag to an abrupt stop. Stretched before them was a mighty gorge. Perhaps two hundred men wide. Its walls were dressed in emerald moss and lichen’s frothy breath, green giants bathing in the waters. The water gleamed, reflecting the thick canopies and jagged rocks above.

Aisling gasped, eyes wide as Lir lifted her from the beast and onto the ground. He gestured for her to follow him towards the water’s edge where a single boat bobbed. It was small, large enough for only a handful of passengers, and wonderfully carved with imaginative reliefs. A scaled serpent crowning the bow of the craft.

“The stags, the others, how will they cross the waters?” Aisling asked, eyes still pinned to the gorge. Surely their entire procession wouldn’t wait upon a single boat to carry them up and down the gorge.

“They’ll travel another route,” Galad called from behind, exchanging positions with Lir to escort Aisling onto the craft. The fae king, meanwhile, handed their mount to Rian to care for the beast in Lir’s stead. “There’s a quicker path through the rock itself, a natural tunnel where the stags can pass.”

“And why do we not travel with them?” Aisling continued.

“Lir wished to show you Annwyn from the front entrance,” Galad explained. “There’s no better view of Annwyn than from the water.”

Aisling found it odd the fae king’s knight had referred to him by his primary name. She cringed, imagining Nemed’s response to such behavior. Her father would’ve consideredsuch informality disrespectful and worthy of swift punishment. She’d witnessed it before.

Galad crouched to sit beside Aisling in the boat just as Lir approached, prepared now to depart into the gorge. But before the fae king boarded the craft, he stepped into the waters, drenching his trousers to the thigh. He rolled up his sleeves and pushed the boat, setting Aisling and Galad adrift before leaping aboard himself. Aisling averted her eyes, lest she witnessed his trousers sticking to his waist and legs as the water ran down his lower half and soaked the bottom of the boat.

Aisling had never travelled by vessel. The craft floated like one of the lily pads elegantly sitting atop the water’s surface. It was strange yet wonderful. Fearsome yet thrilling. The steady rock from side to side. The sound of the water curling beneath the wooden serpent, leading their craft further into the gorge.

The blush-bellied wrens heralded their arrival around every bend and the rush of frothing water, slapping stones as it spilled over the moss-cloaked boulders, grew nearer the longer they travelled. Aisling had not realized—had never known that such natural beauty existed. That the wild was more capable of building, carving, fostering monuments and empires far greater than any complex mortal man attempted. Aisling bit her own tongue. For such thoughts, Nemed would whip her if he knew what she’d spoken if only to herself.

The mortal queen leaned over the edge of the vessel to peer into the waters below. The water rippled like liquid sea glass. And, if Aisling moved any further, she might’ve fallen in. The idea delighted her. Titillated her. Just as had the lake slumbering beside Tilren’s eastern wall.

Amid her reverie, Aisling witnessed something swim past. Its scaled body reflected the light percolating through the canopies overhead before slithering farther below. It was large, perhaps even giant. Surely it could not be afish. But it moved like one, snaking through the gorge’s undercurrents, daring to catch a glimpse of its new guests.

“Mo Lúra,” Galad said, startling Aisling and releasing her from the water’s spell. “We’re here.”

Further down the gorge, cut from the rock itself, stood a colossal cave. Like the mouth of some mythic god, the cavern stood agape, framed by statues of females carved into the stone. Nude maidens bedizened by elegant, wasp-like wings. They were frozen in time, as if spell-bound by a bygone curse, guardians to the threshold draped in sheets of water from the cascades above, interrupted only by hanging, flowered vines whose buds were swiftly pollinated by a variety of winged creatures.

Lir steered the boat so that as they crossed, the water misted above them instead of pummeling and capsizing their vessel.

However, Aisling hardly noticed the spray of the waterfall’s breath as they dove into the blackness of the cave. Her eyes struggled to adjust, focusing on the monoliths standing tall and wide within the waters of the cavern. So large and formidable they appeared nearly sentient, protecting the cave and its black cauldron of waters. The sort of cavity Aisling imagined all Aos Sí resided in, hunched over and feeding on mortal flesh. Was this where she was to live out her remaining years? Driven mad by the eternal, hollow patter of streams dripping from the cave’s ceilings and onto the stony surfaces below?

After several moments of silence, an opening appeared in the distance, its light blinding Aisling as it flashed into view. Fresh forest air greeted Aisling along with the distinct smell of food—cooked meats and baked breads, controlled fires burning, and smoke billowing. Then came the distant chatter, the clanking of metal, the moans of cattle, and the plucking of music—sounds of a heavily populated city, Aisling realized.

And sure enough, just beyond that wondrous hole of light,rested a hollow of gargantuan trees, cradling a kingdom larger than any Aisling had laid eyes on. More magnificent than the mud pit she’d anticipated or the cavern from which they emerged, artfully woven into the forest itself; a glowing city nestled below a stone-faced castle carved into the side of a mountain.

The waters they sailed bubbled with soap, remnants of the fae females’ labor as they scrubbed their clothes upon the water’s shore. Once they caught sight of their fae king aboard the vessel, they leapt from their knees and raced along the water’s edge, alerting the kingdom of their sovereign’s arrival.

By now, twilight was spilling across the North, darkening the sky, and speckling its deep hues with starlight. The surface of the water reflected the warm glow of the city lights, illuminating the hollow in an orange, firelit luster.

Aisling was left breathless.

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