“Thank you for watching the children,” Arach said to her. “Please, do so a little longer while we speak with their parents.”
“Of course, my King.” Granuaile inclined her head.
“You go find Neala, Righ, Roarke, and Anna and I'll look for Taog and Fionnaghal,” I suggested.
Arach agreed and we headed back inside the castle. He went one way and I went another. My path took me downward, through warm corridors that got warmer the deeper I went. The fey lights along the walls grew further apart until there was only one every twenty feet or so and the walls themselves lost their polish, looking more roughhewn. Finally, I stepped into the cavern below the castle—the entrance to a network of tunnels and caves and also the home of the Hidden Ones.
I immediately stepped out again.
My eyes were wide and my mouth hung open as my brain tried to process what I had just seen. The Hidden Ones were the first faeries created and Faerie had been a little... experimental when she formed them. Looking upon them, you might think that they'd been made last instead of first—using up all the leftover bits. That is, you'd think that if you managed to keep your sanity. Some would call them hideous, nightmarish even, but I loved them for the savage beauty. That being said, the scene I'd just witnessed was pushing it.
The Hidden Ones had been writhing and thrusting and slamming against—or into, rather—each other. Horns thrashed the air, claws scritched along insect-like carapaces, and scaled bellies slapped furred hides. And the sounds. I could still hear them; they seeped past the cavern entrance to taunt me. Why hadn't I taken that hooting, howling, groaning cacophony as a warning and stayed out? Now, I'd never get the image of them out of my head or the sound of their rapturous cries out of my ears.
It was a Hidden One orgy.
But that was no excuse for bad parenting. I straightened my shoulders, set my gaze firmly on the floor since the ceiling wasn't safe, and stepped back into the cavern with stomach-churning determination.
I called out, “Taog! Fionnaghal! Stop what you're doing and present yourselves immediately!”
The mass of moving bodies—seen out of the corner of my eyes—paused to pant and stare at me.
“My Queen!” Fionnaghal declared breathlessly as she emerged from the nebulous mass.
I looked up and focused on her face. Her bright yellow eyes were wide above her long, slender snout and the ruff of horns around her face shivered as she bowed her head respectfully. Behind her, her mate, Taog, rushed forward on thick rhino legs, his mouth hanging open on panting breaths and yellow fluid dripping from his fangs.
“My Queen.” Taog bowed. “How can we be of sss-ervice?”
“You can get your horny butts upstairs right now,” I snapped, then realized that horny could apply in two ways to them. “I mean your lusty butts. A lone Sidhe is watching over your children.”
“But, Queen Vervain, they are of an age to look after themselves,” Fionnaghal protested.
“They're only seven!”
“Seven-year-old Hidden Ones,” she argued.
Around us, the other Hidden Ones went back to what they'd been doing.
“They are responsible children. They'll be fine,” Fionnaghal added.
“Do you think so?” I asked conversationally. “Because every adult in this castle seems to be absent. Do you know where they are? They're in their rooms fornicating. This whole damn castle—possibly the whole realm—is having sex. So, what do you think the children are doing? They're all up at the playground and they would have been alone if not for Granuaile—the only faerie who seems to feel responsible and protective of our precious children! One woman is guarding all of those fey kids. Now, what if something bad happened?”
“Like what?” Taog asked.
“Like a storm or an attack or a fucking accident!” I shouted.
The Hidden Ones stopped having sex again.
“They're children; they have accidents. They get hurt. You know that but something has come over the Faerie Realm and turned all of us into nymphomaniacs. It's bad enough with all of them”—I waved at the others, accidentally looking at them and instantly regretting it—“but you're parents. You don't get to have a day off to participate in an orgy.”
A hint of guilt tingled in my chest. I had been just as distracted with Arach but, in my defense, I'd known that someone was watching my children. Being royalty has its perks.
“It's not an orgy, my Queen,” Fionnaghal said. “We're not sharing partners.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I huffed. “Just get upstairs and watch your damn kids!”
I turned on my heel and stomped back into the corridor. Taog and Fionnaghal trudged silently after me. Unfortunately, the hallways didn't remain silent on the way back to the ground floor. Every door we passed had lusty sounds filtering through it—moans and screams and grunting. I grimaced and contemplated calling on Faerie. But I had a feeling that the Consciousness of the Faerie Realm was busy watching all of her children have sex. Though unsettling, that wasn't as disgusting as it sounded. Okay, maybe it was a little disgusting.
We met up with Arach, Roarke, Anna, and the Phooka parents, Neala and Righ. All three couples looked thoroughly chastised and slumped over to sit near Granuaile on the other benches that were set around the outskirts of the playground. I felt a little bad for raining on their parade, especially since I'd just come from, well, coming. But I wasn't about to leave the realm while our children were only attended by one nanny. That was just asking for more trouble.
“You six owe Granuaile your gratitude,” I said to the parents. “She's in charge of watching over my sons, not your children.”
“Aw, come on, V,” Roarke grumbled. “Hunter's old enough to take care of himself.”
“I'm not going over this argument again,” I snapped. “You know as well as I do that those children can get into a world of trouble on their own and you left Granuaile to deal with them all by herself. And she's not even a mother. Now, thank her!”
They murmured their thanks to Granuaile.
“I understand,” Granuaile said graciously. “I have felt the mating call myself. But the children are more important.”
That, of course, made the parents feel worse.
“You are getting a bonus this month, Granuaile,” I declared.
“A bonus?” she asked.
“Something special in addition to your pay. Commission a piece of jewelry with the Pixies, and tell them that we'll pay for it.”
“Thank you, Queen Vervain.” Granuaile bowed her head to me.