“Well, speaking of moons, it is the moon of the blood sacrifice in the skies as we speak, after all. The stars are aligned perfectly for this. It’s the perfect time for war. I don’t understand how you can dismiss that? You are aware of the moons. You know our traditions.”
“Yes,” Lyria said, feebly.
“So you understand, we cannot wait?”
“There will be other good timings. The moon of change? The moon of harvest?”
“Perhaps, but this is the best of them all for victorious war. This is our opportunity. This is the stars telling us, do it now. It’s the time for conquers. We will attack soon.”
“Look. First of all, I can’t promise anything on behalf of others,” Lyria said, “and secondly, I haven’t agreed to taking human armies to the Fae Palaces, not before I get a guarantee it won’t be a massacre.”
“No true soldier would ever ask for guarantees.”
“I’m no soldier, I’m a queen.”
“This is my offer…Take it or leave it.”
Lyria pulled away from Cantillion and stalked over to me. “Let’s get out of here, Milla. I’m not listening to this—”
A harsh, fae word made us turn. Cantillion had raised his hand and waved his orders to his men.
It was a disorienting maelstrom of everything happening at once. The fae were too fast to follow, but they were all around us, flashing past, calling to each other, shouting, clamoring. I didn’t understand the point of it, the heart of it, nothing. Their silver armor glinted in the desert sunlight, their red capes and tall spears swung past my field of vision a million times. On top of that, everything swirled, mingled with lilac streams of light coming from all sides. The air felt heavy and stung of spices, some strange tang…
I cast the fae spell Lyria had taught me, thinking I fumbled with it, but the shield solidified on me, and it felt like no human armor I’d worn. It didn’t hinder my moves but I could literally feel the buzz of the magic. Lyria swirled around to be back to back with me, her hands already aflame with fae magic. I hadn’t known she could do magic like that.
A fae warrior surprised me on my left and struck at me, but Lyria struck at him and I kicked at him at the same time, tripping him to the ground, and then I pulled my dagger. Without needing to use it, I sent a nice battle spell to pour over him like a ton of lead, to make him stay put. Lyria sent one of the warriors sprawled on the ground as well and turned to take on another. Everything happened fast. Another attacker came at me, I flung him away. Trying to surprise me from a lower angle, one thrust himself at me, but I kicked him to the ground and pinned him down.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a massive warrior grab Lyria’s hair, pull back her head, and place a sword at her throat. The purple flames of her magic raged over her hands, as she elbowed the warrior and kicked at his shins. But the warrior cast spells of his own. I had to turn to focus on another attacker and couldn’t follow. I threw the man past me, as I stepped to the side. Then I dashed to help out Lyria, but the warrior had Lyria under that sword, and Lyria had lowered her arms to her sides…The flames on her palms were quieting down.
That same moment, I felt my own hands yanked violently back so that it hurt, and I yelled out from the pain, until that someone arranged my wrists together and the painful pull eased up, and I realized someone had only clipped them together with a band.
I rolled my head wildly to take a look around. They’d handcuffed Lyria, too. Lyria was standing still in the grip of the large fae soldier, arms being held back as another soldier was clipping moonstone binds on her wrists atop the iron ones. Moonstone. That was to hinder her from using her magic.
So. Lyria had been right about her hunch.
She lifted her eyes to mine, and I was shook by the glow of them. She looked like a fierce goddess with stars inside her that shone through her eyes, and I knew I was falling for her head over heels, which was the craziest thing to think in the midst of all this.
Cantillion gave a gesture, and as everyone began moving, the warriors began to haul us along, half-carrying us, which seemed to require no effort whatsoever on their part.
Chapter 17
“I hate fae magic,” I muttered through my teeth, staring into the darkness of the fae-style prisoner cart. Both my wrists were adorned with ropes of purple light. It was fae magic, but it felt tangible, like real rope. At least our hands weren’t tied together, and it should have been easy enough to sleep on our blankets, even, which we’d got thrown in with us in the cart…but obviously we couldn’t. The light from the binds gently danced around the cart in the twilight, as I moved my hands. “Why does it have to be so pretty but so horrible?”
“Please don’t hate fae magic,” Lyria huffed. “Actually, if anything, you should learn a few tricks. Did you know you can do that? Not get the powers, of course, but learn how to handle the magic like we traditionally do. Make the same moves, but fill the spells with magic from the earth and the air.”
After Cantillion’s men had thrown us here, she hadn’t seemed so worried anymore. Her optimism about the whole situation was reassuring, and I desperately clung to it, though I didn’t exactly get why she didn’t fear Cantillion, who even talked to her so horribly. Also, she hadn’t wanted to share much about what she expected would happen.
I huffed as an answer to her, smiling. “Learn fae spells? That’s aiming a little high, isn’t it?”
“It’s not easy, but I’ve heard it’s done…I don’t know how well you’re aware of the different types of magic in this world? You’re using earth magic, because you’re human, and that’s good, since you can find it interwoven in everything, after all, everywhere, if you know how to find it. In the air and the earth…But what you might not know is that some of the general magic runs in human veins, too, but so faint people can’t feel it, and it’s a less powerful kind than what the fae use. It can be called up using stones, that’s what wizards do, that’s what you do. When you call upon your stones, you call upon that faint magic inside of you as you’re calling the magic in the air, soil, water. The fae have a different type of magic. In the fae language, it’s called courazs. And I have that kind, Milla. Fae magic. The only thing that sets me apart is, I haven’t lived all my life in fae society or used the magic in my everyday life like they do. Still, mine works the exact same way, behaves the exact same way, obeys the exact same rules. I have courazs in me. So please don’t hate it, we can do good things with it. Cantillion always used to say, it’s all about how you use it.”
“Of course it is,” I hurried to whisper. “And I didn’t mean that I hate it, per se, I only mean I hate how they can do almost anything they want with it and treat the world in whatever way they want…I don’t hate it in you, obviously…”
Futilely, I pulled at the binds made of purple light that twisted around my wrists, not even expecting them to yield. I did it mostly to protest, on some level. A small, private way to express my frustration. Cantillion’s mere words had spelled binds of light and air to keep us tied up. Now these strands of light went round and round our wrists like some magical bracelets. It was beautiful, the way they glowed in the dark, and if I raised my hands, they lit up the low roof of the cart so prettily, but despite the beauty of this — even the color one of my favorites — I already hated courazs with all my heart. I regretted saying anything about it to Lyria, though. I could never hate her for it. She was struggling with the powers in her as it was. When she talked about her past, spending time in the Fae lands, her eyes were pure molten sadness, and I would have done anything to help her forget it all.