“But something is not why you came here, is it, child?” he asked, eyebrows winging upward. “You want to see your lover avenged.”
“He is not my lover,” she said, her voice trembling. “And there is nothing to avenge. Thane has gone somewhere safe, I’m certain of it. And he will return to take his crown and then—”
“Guards.” Lord Morcant stood and flicked his fingers at a dark figure lurking in the doorframe. “Take Eislyn to the secure chambers at the top of Frost Tower. Take the other one to the dungeons.”
Eislyn jumped to her feet, her heart jumping wildly in her chest. Shock and fear battled for dominance, chasing away the hope and relief she’d felt only moments before.
“Cousin, what—” The guards clasped her arms just as two others bustled into the room and dragged a stone-faced Vreis away. Her guard, her companion, her friend…he didn’t make a sound. He merely stared at her, a haunted goodbye flashing in his mis-matched eyes.
“What are you doing?” she screamed, yanking at the terrible grip on her arms.
“Don’t worry, child. I’m not going to hurt a hair on that pretty silver head of yours. Once all of this is over, I’ll send you on home, safely to Cos.”
“My father will never forgive you for this,” she hissed.
He gave her a blank stare. “He’s forgiven me for far worse. The Air Court is our enemy, and we don’t need a bloody alliance to make things right. With the Selkirks gone and near forgotten, now is the time to take the kingdom as our own. Cos will make a good emperor once he snaps out of this anti-war business. I daresay those air fae will likely love him far more than Sloane Selkirk, that terrible creature they used to call their king.”
“You can’t do this,” she whispered, tears blurring her vision.
“I can. And I will,” he said evenly. “Settle in, Your Highness. You’re going to be here a good long while.”
45
Reyna
They approached Findius from the west. If the High King had scouts searching the wastes for any sign of his son—or the missing assassins—they would expect to find him striding through the ashen fields just south of the city. West meant journeying the long way around, and it took twice as long. They were forced to cross another patch of mountains and wade through a thick swamp. Its stench clogged Reyna’s nose with rot.
The tension was just as thick. Lorcan’s anger simmered beneath the surface, but it was nothing more than a blanket on top of his pain. Reyna had hurt him, the last thing she’d ever wanted to do, but he’d seemed to accept her choice.
He’d stopped questioning her about her decision, and he was no longer demanding that she return to the pit so that she could undo it. But, of course, he’d scarcely said a word to her at all. The only conversation involved Nollaig, but only with one of them at a time. If Reyna was talking to the cloaked fae, Lorcan kept his mouth shut. Reyna tended to do the same if it was the other way around. All of her words had left her. There was nothing else she could say.
As they crept through the barren fields, they spotted smoke on the distant, hazy red horizon. The king had lit the fire pits again, it seemed. What was he anticipating now? But as they drew ever closer, they began to see that it did not look like the fire pits at all. Findius itself was on fire.
“What in the name of the gods is happening now?” Nollaig muttered, her voice holding the same weariness that Reyna felt in her very bones. It had been a very long and draining journey, and chaos was not what she had hoped to see upon their return.
Her gaze drifted toward the eastern harbor. There were a cluster of ships there. She needed to grab one and flee before the king spotted her.
“Look.” Nollaig pointed at a flicker of green at the edge of the city wall. “Wood Court banners.”
Lorcan pressed his lips together. “They’re attacking the city. Hundreds of low fae will be trapped inside. And the wood king knows it.”
A terrible ache surrounded Reyna’s heart. This was it. The moment they were parted. “They need your help. Only two thousand warriors survived the Ruin, and there is no telling how many the wood king has brought with him. Your father is likely holed up in his fortress. He won’t come out, not for anything. You need to go to your people.”
“And you, Shieldmaiden,” Nollaig said. “These low fae need your help, too.”
Reyna clenched her hands. “You know what I must do. I have to go home to my kingdom and stop the Ruin.”
“And you shall do it,” Nollaig said firmly. “But there are innocents inside Findius, likely dying. You have the power of Seelie rushing through your veins.” She grasped Reyna’s arm, shaking her gently. “The shadow fae are greatly outnumbered. Even if Lorcan and I rush into the fight, this city will fall. You have seen the wood king’s atrocities. You know what he will do to them all.”
Reyna swallowed around a hard, hot lump in her throat.
“You gave up your heart for that power.” Nollaig shook her harder. “Use it.”
Her throat closed up as she fought for breath. Nollaig was right. Findius would fall, and the wood king would begin a reign of terror over anyone who survived. They would be tortured, flayed, consumed raw. Trembling, she gazed across the black stone that rose up from the fiery ground. Her heightened senses sharpened, zooming in on the fight.
Bodies already littered the ground. Some were warriors but many others wore the simple linen of innocent civilians. Orange light flared in cottage homes. Roofs had been consumed by flames. Low fae screamed as they raced from attackers, donned in the unmistakable green-tinted armor of the Wood Court.
Reyna pulled back within herself, pressing a palm against the ache in her stomach. She was not accustomed to this power, and it made her nauseous. The sight of the battle haunted her mind. As much as she needed to get home, she could not turn her back on this. Bolg Rothach was cruel and wicked, but the innocents of the city were not. She couldn’t leave them here to die.
She set her jaw, turning to Nollaig. “You’re right. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
They huddled together for a moment, exchanging ideas. In the end, there was only one answer. Most of the activity appeared to be at the gates that led deep into the hidden caverns and tunnels beneath Findius. The wood fae had discovered the way inside, and they were swarming out of the ground like ants.
They would converge on those gates. Lorcan and Nollaig would fight while Reyna drew the focus of the wood fae away. And then she would unleash the power of Seelie onto them all.
Just before they set off, Lorcan grasped her elbow. “Look at me,” he said in a low and dangerous voice. He had been so angry when he’d found out what she’d done. That anger lingered in his voice even now, but she knew it was the gods he hated. Not her.
She dropped back her head, swallowing hard beneath the weight of his familiar dark eyes. “I don’t want to argue, Lorcan. Not now. Not when we’re about to rush into a fight.”
“I don’t want to argue with you. I—” His jaw clenched in frustration, and he dropped a fierce kiss onto her mouth. She leaned into it, breathing the scent of him deep into her mind. Leather, smoke, steel. A scent she would never forget.