Page 13 of The Prince or the Bard?
She shakes her head. "There's only one thing for it."
My eyes snap up to hers. Is that amusement?
"We must escape to the sea court here, where no one will care one jot that I've anything to do with the king of all earthen courts."
My jaw slackens a little. "You mean as púcaí?"
"How else?"
My hand goes to my chin. This is a fine plan, indeed. Except there's no real plan to it. With so many courtiers floating around, we'll be seen. And I know, with all my heart, that the sight of their púca queen in her unseelie form will be too much for so many of them.
“There are too many noble eyes around here.” I find my hand curling around my neck, as if my collar is suddenly too tight. “I haven't seen a single local in púca form, either. They're all afraid to be seen as they are.”
“I'm not,” Fiadh says, an iron-hard glint I'm her eyes. “Not any longer.”
“But the situation at court—”
“So we'll go after dark,” she practically snaps, and I lean back from the table, my fingers still brushing my throat.
"Aren't the sea courts here troubled by nightfall, the way those beside the Seaglass Court are?" I ask.
She blinks in surprise. "Troubled? I thought it was merely a rule of the Salann Court. They never permit us to stay after nightfall, except on revel days."
"You really don't know?"
"Know what, Laoise?""
I tap a finger to my lip. "They don't keep it secret from us—not the Diarmuid's Row folk. Nor from the nearby villages.” My hand stills and I frown, unsure if this isn't meant for other pointed ears. “Something is out of balance in the courts near Ireland. Each night, after sunset, there is a tidal wave of wild magic beneath the sea, powerful enough to sweep the strongest of swimmers far from home, or dash them into the rocks."
“That's a fairy tale,” she says easily.
“It most certainly is not! Have you no friends in the sea court here?”
I regret my words at once; glancing around me, I have to wonder whether Fiadh's life here was always a bit too solitary.
Her brow furrows, as if she doesn't quite know what I mean. Right. So the Salann Court isn't quite as friendly with púca as the Moonray Court is with Diarmuid's Row. Perhaps, with the fae here that much closer to Connor Castle, the sea fae don't feel quite as trusting, and the púca here not quite as free to associate with those who will never bow to the high king.
“What I meant to say, ma'am, is that my greatest friend lives in a sea court, and I know myself what it is to swim for home a little too late in the evening. The solstice and equinox days are the only times the sea is calm at night, and there's none who can say why.”
“You really mean that, don’t you? That it isn't just a tale.”
“There's truth to many a tale, ma'am. This one happens to be deadlier than most of them, and completely mysterious.”
Like a frightened púca, Fiadh's eyes are mostly whites as she says, "How long has this been happening?"
"All of my life, and I'd wager yours, too. It usually clears around midnight."
Her mouth twists as she says wryly, with arms crossed over the hard stomacher of her dress, "The witching hour."
I nod.
"And no one knows why?"
"None have ever found the exact cause. The faerie clams close their mouths tight, the sharks head out to the deeper sea, and every creature that can't take shelter on the sea floor or in the caverns vanishes."
Fiadh leans sharply over the table, her eyes eager and bright. Somehow, I already don't like where this is going. "We shouldspeak to the sea fae at once. It's my duty, as queen of the earthen courts and a púca, to find out what's happened."
I absolutely do not like where this is going. "You know they don't care about what the earthen courts do."
