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even summoned an ember.
But the Little Folk, it seemed, had come
prepared. And within heartbeats of entering
the pitch-black river passage, blue light had
kindled on a lantern dangling over the curved
prow.
Not light, not even magic. But small
worms that glowed pale blue, as if they’d each
swallowed the heart of a star.
They’d been gathered into the lantern, and
their soft light rippled over the water-smooth
walls. A gentle, soothing light. At least, for
her it was so.
The Fae males sat alert, eyes gleaming
with animalistic brightness, using the
illumination to mark the caverns they were
tugged down by those strange, serpentine
beasts.
“We’re not traveling swiftly,” Rowan
answered from where he sat beside Aelin near