The three of them stood quietly in the room. The sound of their silence was a death knell to come. There would be no answer to this, Lorcan knew. A tiny village could never win against the brute force of an entire army. One well trained, one that no doubt had a plan. They might be able to hold their own, for a short time, but in the end, Oxgrove would fall. Brutally so.
Lorcan had tried to cut off an army once. He’d tried to stop the Battle for the Shard from ever happening by making it impossible for the air fae to cross the border. He’d failed then, too, but that…that had been because his mark had stopped him.
“Wait. I have an idea,” he said, hope sparking in his gut. He turned to Duff and grinned. “How does the wood king feel about fire?”
The conflagration rose high into the tormented sky. Big puffs of smoke met the clouds, filling the air with ash. As Lorcan stared up at it, he could not help but be reminded of the Ruin. The black specks that rained down around them all were a chilling reminder of that terrible magic that spread throughout the lands like a plague.
The villagers stood clustered on the hill around him. Each wore a similar expression. Horror swirled with regret. Several sobbed as the trees cracked and tumbled. They were burning down their own lands, all in the hope that they might survive.
Lorcan hoped it was enough.
“That’s it then,” Meredith said with a sniffle, where she stood by Reyna’s side. “The fire is unstoppable now. He has no hope of getting past that.”
Duff grunted in agreement. “And it will spread even further over the course of the night. He’ll get pushed back. That gives us time enough to leave this place and make certain no one gets left behind.”
Lorcan’s heart ached. “I am sorry, Duff. I’ve brought destruction to your village.”
“We brought it on our own damn selves, shadow fae,” Meredith replied crisply. “We’ve been rebelling against the crown for years. It was only a matter of time before they finally came for us.”
“Where will you go?” Reyna asked as she absentmindedly ran her fingers along her familiar’s feathers. “Do you have somewhere? I’m certain we can find a place for you in the shadow lands—”
Meredith cut her off with a chuckle. “I appreciate the offer, princess, but we’d be no better off there than here.” She cut her eyes toward Lorcan. “Nothing to do with either of you, you understand. It’s that king of yours.”
“Ah.” Reyna’s voice filled with ice. “We certainly do understand.”
Meredith rose her brows. “He might be mighty, but so are you.” The wood fae leaned forward and hissed, “Resist.”
Reyna blinked at the wood fae for a moment, but then she laughed. “You don’t have to tell me twice. Besides, I wouldn’t call him mighty. Unless your idea of mighty is a toad.”
Lorcan chuckled, but Meredith gave them both an odd look. “I heard he was a great monstrous thing, as tall as a bear with horns growing out of his head. Isn’t that why everyone followed him, even though he had no true claim to the throne?”
Reyna laughed. “Bolg? Monstrous? Well, he is monstrous, but not in the way you think. He’s smaller than you and he has nothing resembling horns. That’s a rumor based on nothing more than lies. A rumor he most likely started himself.”
The wood fae began moving away from the fire, rushing to their cottages to collect their belongings for the journey ahead. They would likely have to flee to the Air Court. With all of Aengus’s warriors wrapped up in the Wood Court, the villagers might be lucky enough to cross the Mistmoor Mountains without being spotted. There were many villages and hamlets that far south, many with friendly faces. Would they welcome wood fae? Lorcan could only hope so.
“Meredith, wait,” he said, just as she turned to go. “If you struggle to find a home, there is an abandoned village not too far north of the border, on the western coast of the realm. There’s enough room there for two hundred fae. There are fields to grow crops. Wheat is popular there. It’s called Comharra, and it could use some honorable fae to bring it alive again.”
Meredith smiled. “Well, then to Comharra we’ll go.”
An arrow slammed into Meredith’s forehead. Her clear green eyes widened into shock, and her lips parted as a strange, gurgling hiss rose from her throat. And then she crumpled to the ground.
Reyna screamed.
Lorcan could only stare at Meredith’s unseeing eyes as shock nailed his feet into place. A moment before, Meredith had been laughing. She’d spoken of the journey, of choosing Comharra.
And now she was dead.
“Lorcan!” Reyna shouted. “Lorcan, please, come on!”
The world snapped back before him. The entire village was screaming and racing across the hills. A loud smack sounded in the air, and a sharp sting exploded in his cheek. He looked down to spy Reyna’s outstretched hand and a furious determination set in her furrowed brows.
“The wood fae are attacking, and I swear to the Dagda, if I have to jump in front of another arrow to save you…”
“You slapped me.”
She threw up her hands. “Of course I did.”
“You know, there are better ways to snap someone out of shock.”
“You two.” Duff launched toward them as he shoved a long, willow arrow into his bow. “Take the boat and get the hell out of here.”
Lorcan pressed his lips together. “I thought we made it clear that we don’t leave allies behind.”
“Bah,” Duff growled. “Only a dozen of these arseholes made it through the wall of fire. If you want to help, make sure some of them see you. That’ll split ‘em up. You take on some. We take on some. And then we win.”
Reyna frowned. “What if they don’t follow us?”
“Oh, they will,” Duff said grimly. “The wood king will want to get his bloody hands on you. In fact, he’s likely salivating about it.”
Lorcan saw Reyna visibly shudder.
With a nod, Lorcan said a goodbye to Duff and raced across the field. Reyna stayed in sync with him every step of the way with Wingallock soaring by her side. Every now and then, Reyna would wince when her foot hit the ground a bit too hard. It was a reminder that she’d been close to death only a few short days ago by making an unfortunate acquaintance with an arrow. He would have to make certain it didn’t happen again. He didn’t think she could survive a second wound like that.
Their feet hit the sand just as anguished cries filled the smoky air. Lorcan risked a glance over his shoulder. Three of the archers had followed them, striking down a villager who had placed himself between Lorcan and the attackers. He roiled on the ground, an arrow sticking out of his thigh.
Lorcan cursed and threw himself forward, hating that there was nothing he could do to help.
The archers galloped after them on glistening white steeds. They were growing closer. Within moments, they would be within striking distance of the arrows, and the boat was still too far away.
Reyna came to a sudden stop, skidding against the sand. She grasped his arm and glared up at him fiercely. “Do you trust me, Lorcan Rothach?”
His heart tripped over itself. Whatever she was about to say next, he knew he would hate it with every fiber of his being. “Of course I do, but—”