Chapter 10
THE FAE TUNNELS rivaled any maze I’d ever seen. How Soren made the turns so confidently was beyond me. I was immediately disoriented.
Outside his burrow, the dirt walls had turned into smooth pale stone, which shortly after grew jagged and gray. The ground turned equally uneven, climbing and descending at random, like someone had smashed their way through and called it good enough.
In some places the rock walls narrowed so much that my shoulder brushed Soren’s. I shrank back, but he didn’t react. In other places, it opened wide into intersections that could fit at least ten people—or rather, fae—with multiple branches leading who knew where.
Though we’d yet to run into any other fae, there was a surprising number of doors.
My mind spun, imagining who might live behind them or if they led to a whole different set of tunnels.
For the first time, I was glad I hadn’t chased after my family. I would’ve gotten lost in a heartbeat.
“How big is this place?” I whispered over our muffled footsteps.
Soren’s shadow wings flew across the stony wall beside him as he glanced over. “The Hollow Court stretches on for miles.”
Left, then right, then right again.
When we turned right a third time, I slowed. I could’ve sworn we were headed back in the direction we’d come. Soren motioned for me to keep up. “The fewer fae we run into, the better. Some are less friendly than others.”
A pair of glowing eyes peered out at us from one of the darker tunnels. Another boggart? Something else? Picking up my pace, I tried not to glance back. As we passed thick tree roots creating little hidden pockets along a dirt wall, I got the feeling again.
I shuddered.
Each passageway had its own material: brick, stone, something that looked like concrete, another that might’ve been actual gold, and, of course, the ones made of packed dirt.
That didn’t seem particularly safe. What if there was a cave-in?
“There are a few things you should know before we reach the revel.” Soren spoke in hushed tones, as if someone might be listening. “When it comes to the royals, it’s better to always agree with them, whenever possible—”
I nodded along, but I wasn’t really paying attention as I took in the uniqueness of more passing doors.
One stood behind a sturdy metal gate—I wondered absently if it was iron. The whole fae-are-allergic-to-metal thing was definitely a myth. Lore had hardly even blinked at my garden tools.
On the opposite side, a burnt-red door nearly matched the dirt. It stood less than a foot tall. My brows rose. When we passed a similar small door, except placed up at eye level, I opened my mouth to ask Soren about it. “What lives in those tiny ones?”
I didn’t realize I’d interrupted him until he groaned. “Have you paid attention to anything I’ve said?” He pinched the spot between his thick brows and briefly closed his eyes.
“Sorry.” I blushed.
“ ‘Sorry’ won’t help you when talking to the royal family, Brynn,” he chastised.
“No offense, but I don’t understand why I need to learn about the fae royals or the court. I’m not planning on being here that long.”
“Has it occurred to you that you might not have a choice?” he murmured.
Though he didn’t seem like he expected an answer, I spoke up anyway. “Why? Did you learn something about my family that makes you think I’d have to stay here longer?”
“Very little,” he replied vaguely. “Which is why you should temper your expectations. It may take a while to track them down.”
“Nope.” I was already shaking my head. “No. I can’t do that. I won’t.”
When he glanced over, I didn’t like the concern peeking through his expression.
I gripped the skirt of my dress. “What I mean is, I have options. I have other ways to find them.”
I was mostly bluffing. I’d come up with an idea while eating, but it was a long shot.
In the bathroom, I’d agonizingly dragged the Find My Phone app across the cracked screen over and over until it finally moved to the bottom, where it would actually open when clicked on.
Of course, I still didn’t have service here underground.
Also, since Mom had left her phone behind, Olive had dropped hers, and Dad rarely carried his, that left Rissa.
And that was only if her phone still had enough battery.
Which was also an issue when it came to my phone.
I touched the hard spot right under my bra where I’d tucked the cell into my dress, held in place by the tight waist and hidden by the waistband. I’d turned it off so it wouldn’t die but worried my family would somehow try to call.
Soren hadn’t seen me tuck my phone there, but if the fae were so aware of the human world, he probably knew about the lack of service.
Either way, he only raised a brow. “Options?”
I rubbed the goose bumps on my arm, unconsciously stepping closer to him as we passed another dark tunnel and a deep rumble came from somewhere in the distance. “Yep.”
“Such as?”
“Well . . .” I faltered. “There’s, you know . . . you.”
His lips rose slightly before he caught them. “The plan is simply me?”
“Pretty much,” I mumbled. “It’s not like you’ve shared what you’re working on.”
“If I told you everything I’ve learned so far, I fear you might not stick around to uphold your side of the agreement.”
He was right. I wouldn’t.
Apparently, he knew I wasn’t buying the whole toad-turning thing.
It hit me what he’d said first.
I grabbed his arm, trying to slow him down a bit. “Did you really learn something? You have to tell me!”
Instead of answering, he dropped his gaze to where my hand lay on his bicep.
I lowered it but refused to back down. “Did you?”
“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate—or look at me.
“But you’re not going to tell me.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I need your attention to be on the task at hand,” he replied instead of outright saying no, as we took another turn.
I scowled.
Did he really know anything helpful? If I could’ve ditched him right then, I’d have considered it. But I also would’ve bet actual money on him taking us in circles. I was hopelessly lost.
When we literally backtracked, returning to a crossing I recognized, I stopped, giving Soren a suspicious glare.
“I’m trying to avoid running into anyone,” he said quietly, waving me around a short corner.
This time, I caught him pausing briefly, tilting his head toward the different tunnels.
“For example, that way”—he pointed to the right—“would be the shortest path to court. But there are at least two fae traveling through that shaft, while the one straight ahead is currently unoccupied. So, we go straight.”
“Oh . . .” So that was why we hadn’t seen any other fae. “How good is your hearing?”
That question earned me a side-eye and a long-suffering sigh. “I was under the impression you didn’t need to know anything about the fae. Something about ‘I won’t be here that long,’ I believe? Could you make up your mind one way or the other, for my sake?”
I held back a smile. “Okay, okay. Tell me all the random stuff you were trying to tell me earlier. I’m listening.”
Another sigh. “None of it was random,” he declared. “Do you think I speak merely to hear the sound of my own voice?”
Part of me wanted to laugh, while the other part recoiled at the feeling, not wanting to enjoy his company when it felt like betraying my family. I settled for a shrug.
“I wonder if your opinion of me could be lower,” he muttered.
I tucked my lips into my mouth and tried not to smile. He was so unintentionally funny. Or maybe he wasn’t as serious as he let on.
“What I was saying earlier,” he continued in that same exasperated tone, “was to avoid bargains at all costs.”
“I already know that one.” Though, to be fair, I was in a potentially bad bargain right now, so I supposed it was appropriate to warn me.
“When you interact with any royal members of the court,” he continued, ignoring my interruption, “it’s usually best to agree with them whenever possible, to avoid any accidental offense.”
“You said that earlier, but how am I supposed to know who’s royal?”
He leveled me with a look.
“Sorry. Continue.”
“Your permission is noted,” he drawled.
I thought I heard a teasing note to his tone, but I didn’t cut in again, trying to absorb his strange instructions.
“Don’t drink the wine, but other drinks are fine,” he said next. “Indulge in typical nourishments, but nothing with a shine.”
“Why is shiny food bad?” And on the heels of that thought came another one. I scrunched my nose. “Wait, what food would have a shine?”
“Anything with a shine is most likely unnatural, a magical residue, which could mean any number of things. Better not to find out.”
Ahead, a dull roar grew louder, like an underground waterfall.
The tunnel floor had also gradually gotten steeper.
Maybe we were going to the surface. I tried to picture the world above and whether we had any waterfalls near Selmo.
But even the Minnehaha Falls froze nearly solid in the winter. The sound didn’t add up.
“That’s all we have time for, I’m afraid,” Soren said as we turned the corner. “We’re here.”
The mouth of the tunnel yawned wide, opening up on a cavernous room.
We must’ve gone deeper underground than I’d guessed because the ceiling in this massive space stretched so high it was lost in darkness.
Some kind of magic made it look just like the night sky, with soft twinkling lights that shone like actual stars, though it obviously wasn’t real, since the air remained warm.
The walls rose at least two stories high, with dozens of windows and multiple balconies suspended above us as we passed by.
We walked on what I assumed was fake grass. Artificial trees throughout the space created an indoor-forest vibe. Some stretched nearly as high as the ceiling. Actually, maybe they weren’t fake. This was the fae, after all. Warm lantern lights hung on the walls and dangled from tree branches.