Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,24

be the spawn of such a cruel creature? Bolg Rothach had been a monster, and Lorcan had his blood running through his veins.

Did that mean his own blood was tainted? Did the sins of the father pass to the son? Or could Lorcan be a better king than that?

He hoped he could.

“I want to release them all.” He gazed across the platforms, his stomach twisting. He did not know how they would feed so many more mouths when he scarcely had enough to feed half a dozen, but he could not leave them down here to die either.

Nollaig sucked in a sharp breath. “Are you certain, Your Highness? These fae were our enemies. They were protecting Findius from…well, us. Some of these will be the same fae who took the castle from us in the first place.”

“We’ll move them to a secure area inside the castle. There’s plenty of room. With no royal family and visiting courtiers, there are more empty rooms than not. We’ll have some guards stand watch outside of their rooms to ensure they don’t go on a killing spree.”

Bolg Rothach might have been the High King of the Shadow Court, but none of the nobility had been quick to rush to Findius after his coronation. He had called upon the lords and ladies scattered across the dying landscape, but they had chosen to stay inside their own towns and cities rather than bend the knee.

Lorcan imagined his father had been none too pleased.

“Nollaig, I have a question,” he said after they turned back toward the stairwell that led out of the dungeons. He’d given the guards orders to find empty rooms for the prisoners and secure any open windows or doors. Soon, the fae trapped inside their molten lava cells would have beds and what little food could be found.

“Anything, Your Grace.”

“Why did my father allow the coastal lords to refuse him?”

“Ah.” She chuckled. “Got himself into a tricky situation there, didn’t he? With the wood fae to the north, he couldn’t spare any warriors to send south. He’d lose one battle to win another. Which one did he think was more important?”

“Getting back into Tir Na Nog,” Lorcan muttered. His father had been obsessed with it. So obsessed he’d turned to dark magic.

“Aye,” Nollaig said. “So, he made a vow. If the lords did not heed his call and bend the knee, he would turn his brutal force upon them once he’d taken the Air Court throne as his. They would remain exiled in the barren shadow lands.”

“And so they just ignored him,” Lorcan said with a nod.

“I’m sure they didn’t believe he would ever succeed. And they were right.” Nollaig shrugged. “Not all shadow fae serve Unseelie, Your Highness, but you know that. After our exile, many shadow fae turned their backs on their god, wanting a different life, a different way. Illusions and darkness, blood and bones. It leads to nothing good. The coastal lords did not want another king dedicated to that.”

“And that’s why they didn’t come?” Lorcan asked, slowing to a stop. “Because my father worshipped Unseelie?”

Nollaig nodded, her cloak rustling around her face. “Rumor has it they have turned to the Dagda now.”

They had turned to the Dagda, just like Lorcan had. For the first time since agreeing to take the throne, Lorcan felt some hope. Perhaps the shadow fae were not doomed. Not fully. He did not quite know how to use their new faith to his advantage, but perhaps he could.

Priest Tighe, Druid Aric, and Segonax were all waiting for him in the throne room when he returned from the dungeons. They all wore matching expressions of gloom and dread. All the hope in Lorcan’s chest deflated in an instant. With a heavy sigh, he strode up to them, feeling the weight of the crown on his head.

“Why do you all look as though you are on your way to a funeral?” Slowly, he strode up the dais and eased onto the black stone throne. Power hummed beneath him, buzzing through his body like tiny bolts of lightning.

“Your newest bird to Thane got shot down,” Druid Aric said, wincing. “That is the last trained bird we have, I’m afraid.”

Lorcan gripped the throne, trying his measure best to keep his expression blank. “Then, I suppose we cannot count on the High King of the Air Court for assistance, not when we can’t even let him know that we need it.”

Commander Segonax shot him a grave smile. “I’m afraid you’re