“The Robber Queen?” Croi’s eyes widen. Is he talking about Irial’s mother?

How many Robber Queens do you think are in the Otherworld?

“But from Irial’s words, she doesn’t seem the kind to command her soldiers to kidnap kin from their families,” Croi thinks to her other self.

He is her son. You really expect him to see her evilness?

“Yes!” Croi huffs.

“Have you never heard of the Robber Queen?” the catkin asks.

“I told you I’m from the human world. Is she important?” Croi opens her eyes wide and tries to look ignorant.

“She seems to think herself so.” The catkin falls into an angry silence Croi doesn’t feel the need to interrupt.

The forest is strangely quiet. The sun went down some time ago, and night creatures should have come out now, but they’re absent.

Listen, Croi’s other self suddenly says.

Croi listens, then gets to her feet without speaking. She walks out of the clearing, motioning for the catkin to follow her. The catkin gives her a puzzled look but walks after her without a word. Croi follows the sound and comes to a wide path in the woods. She stops behind a tree and waits.

First, the soft sigh of a lamentation fills the air. Then, accompanying wails rise and drown all other sounds in the forest. Half a minute later, a funeral procession passes by. It is led by two fae women, deerkin, dressed in brown and green with faces streaked by tears. Following them are four male deerkin, carrying a wooden stretcher on which the body of a child deerkin rests. No marks of violence or abuse mar his face; his eyes are shut as though he is asleep and not dead. A long line of mourners, all performing their grief in various ways, passes by. Croi and Caolan watch silently.

“This is the third funeral procession I have seen,” Caolan says, his eyes bright with tears and his hands clenched. “It’s true that the magick is running out.”

Croi jumps at his words. “I…”

“It’s because of the Robber Queen!” Caolan continues, his eyes bright with barely restrained pain. “It’s because she’s holding on to the Talamh throne when it doesn’t belong to her.”

He’s not entirely wrong. If the HeartStone has been missing for a very long time, the Robber Queen probably hasn’t been able to bond to the magick.

“Before, when kin faded, their bodies would fade as well, returning to earth. Now, as you saw, the bodies remain, empty shells the earth rejects.” Caolan wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and stalks away.

Croi scrunches up her face, feeling the crown of her head ache. The pain is going to be visiting her soon. She shrinks into herself and returns to the clearing without speaking another word.

SIXTEEN

HAVING A LARGE TAIL CHANGES everything. Croi shifts and fidgets, feeling extremely strange and awkward. Her forehead itches; she tries to bring up a hand to scratch it and realizes she has no hands. What she has, instead, are wings. The discovery brings excitement that deflates only too quickly when flapping her two wings has no effect on her ground-loving body. She wonders if she can breathe fire and growls, trying to create some heat in her throat. But alas. Not even an ember appears.