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Saoirse's blood dances with iron and trickery, a secret she has managed to sheathe from all faery alike.
Until now, that is.
When Saoirse's cunning and charade is shredded to bits by the malevolent interfering of fa...
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE REVEL WAS FULLY-FLEDGED WHEN THE CREATURE HALTED AT THE STEPS, SAOIRSE IN TOW.
Bramble and briar cosseted the entryway, shrouding it from view. But music spilled forth, washing over Saoirse's ears in untameable ferocity. There was nothing soft, gentle, or breezy about it, as many would have imagined. There was a note of wickedness to it. Like a thorn emerging beneath the soft folds of rose petals, it was all Saoirse could hear.
She shivered at the hair-raising sound. It was enrapturing. Beautiful, but deceptively so.
The cat-like faery glanced over its shoulder, beholding her with slit eyes, a curious smile plucking the corner of its thin lips. "Come," it beckoned with a purr.
Saoirse hastened to the door, fastening a bold look on her features. Outwardly, the building looked to be crumbling, a broken, solitary spire. Ivy crawled along its surface, sheathing from view whatever color the brick may have been. There was no door beneath the bramble and briar, but Saoirse couldn't see anything beyond the flora despite that. It was an ancient, woe-begotten, forgotten tower from the outside, but something very much different on the inside.
The cat-like faery rolled forward, barbed tail swishing behind its stealthy gait, and disappeared into the crumbled spire without another word. Saoirse took a moment to regard the blackness beyond the entrance, unable to find anything in it, and then followed suit.
It was a faery path, she realized, belatedly. Something sardonic flitted through her head, pulling her mouth into a smirk, as the sheer, empty blackness pulled her every which way. It strangled her, the darkness closing about her neck, gentle fingers squeezing. Sound was lost to her ears. Sight was robbed from her eyes. Voice was stolen from her throat.
"Never stray upon a Faery's path, Saoirse." Her mother's gentle voice slashed through the silence ebbing about her.
Faery paths were treacherous, not even a Mortal who had been granted access was guaranteed to survive. Even Faerys sometimes didn't survive, Saoirse recalled the shredded bodies of Brownies and Hobgoblins she and her mother had occasionally found in the Mortal world.
Suddenly, with a deep inhale, breath rushed into Saoirse's lungs like conquering soldiers, running rampant. And she was sent tumbling, scarcely aware of the pitch darkness bleeding into flora. With an agile tumble, Saoirse managed to land on her feet with only a shred of grace, and found the cat-like faery smirking at her, head cocked. It said nothing, but its curious eyes watched her intently.
Saoirse swallowed, patting her hair, as though ascertaining that every part of her was in place. Then her eyes fastened upon her surroundings once more, and her hand slipped, her eyes widening. The chamber was vast, faerys of all nature housed within. Chatter was rampant, all with a subtle ebb and flow.
