Caom shrugged. “Big enough, I suppose. More than enough land for all of us.”
“Does the forest surround all of it?”
He shot me a look. “No. The sea is to the west. But you wouldn’t be able to leave that way either.”
I scowled. “Where does the sea lead to?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s beyond it? Where can you reach if you go sailing?”
His head cocked. “Go sailing? No, we don’t go sailing. The selkies live in the water. They deliver fish to the village. And the sea doesn’t go anywhere.”
I frowned at him. “It has to end somewhere.”
“No. It just goes to nothingness. There’s nothing beyond it.”
Bullshit. I didn’t bother answering as we walked. Unless I got a boat, it was pointless information anyway. And if none of the Folk went sailing, I highly doubted I’d come across a boat.
It seemed like most of the Folk lived in or near the village that sprawled at the foot of the Carlin’s court. We walked through endless empty fields, some with long grass swaying in the breeze, others covered in deep purple heather.
When I spotted the sun glinting off a lake up ahead, my heart jumped.
“That looks nice,” I said quickly, pointing at the water and already changing our course to head towards it.
“There are a few lakes on the land.” Caom didn’t sound particularly interested as we walked along its bank. “There’s a far nicer, bigger one on the other side of the village.”
I nodded distractedly, peering into the crystal-clear water. I could see weeds swaying on the sandy bed where it was shallower, but the bulk of the lake was inky black, too deep for the light to penetrate.
I still looked, searching for any flash of black hair or a pale face peering up at us from the water.
“So, um…” I sucked my lower lip into my mouth, trying to look casual as I stopped beside the lake and looked around. “How often does Odran come to this lake?”
Caom froze. His eyes narrowed at me.
“You want to fuck him, don’t you?” he asked accusingly with a scowl.
I started to protest, but that would have been less suspicious than why I really wanted to see the kelpie. I forced myself to shrug a little.
“I mean, he was gorgeous—”
Caom’s eyes widened as they stared at something behind me, over my shoulder. Brow quirking, I peered back to follow his gaze—and froze.
The Carlin’s youngest son was standing there.
He was watching us, his black eyes intense as they stared at me. Strands of dark hair moved gently in the slight breeze, but his posture was stiff, arms folded over his chest. A wickedly sharp blade gleamed at his hip. He wore all black. Black boots, black leather trousers and a black shirt that billowed, untucked like mine.
I swallowed, slowly turning to face him. I didn’t want him at my back. No one spoke for a long moment, and I barely suppressed my startled flinch when Caom’s voice suddenly came from behind me.
“Prince Lonan.” His tone was stilted. Uncomfortable. Afraid. “Is there anything we can help you with?”
The assassin prince’s obsidian eyes shifted briefly to the gancanagh behind me, but they returned to my face almost immediately.
“No.”
His voice was low and quiet. Husky, like he didn’t speak much. Black eyes swept briefly down my frame and back up, face entirely void of emotion. Cold.
“So this is the half-mortal,” he said, in a voice just as lifeless as his expression.