“And would you take us to Oak’s door?” Barata asks. “Take us to the mortal world and take him from your big sister, carry him back to us?”
“Of course,” I lie.
Barata shoots a look toward Orlagh. If they took Oak, they could foster him under the sea, they could marry him to Cage, they could have a Greenbriar line of their own, loyal to the Undersea. They would have options beyond Barata for access to the throne, which cannot please him.
A long game, but in Faerie, that’s a reasonable way to play.
“This Grimsen creature,” Orlagh asks her daughter. “You really believe he can make a new crown?”
My heart feels for a moment as though it’s stuttered to a stop. I am glad no one was looking at me, because in that moment, I do not believe I could have hidden my horror.
“He made the Blood Crown
