“They must have seen us flee there when the Ruin attacked.”
“Or Unseelie could have told them,” Reyna interjected.
Every pair of shadow fae eyes turned her way.
“The wood king is an Unseelie worshipper. He’s likely been getting visions, just like Tarrah.”
Segonax rose a granite brow. “So, during this quest of yours, you’ve not only gained a pair of wings—glorious ones, I might add—but also a new faith in the death god?”
“I believe he’s real. I’ve seen evidence of him with my own two eyes.” She pressed her lips together. “But I doubt I’d call it faith when I’d love nothing more than to meet him on the battlefield and stab him with my blade a thousand times.”
“Ah. Well then.” Segonax cleared his throat, turning his eyes back to his prince.
“She likes to stab things,” Lorcan murmured. “How many have we lost?”
“Several hundred warriors and just as many low fae. Our losses would be higher but we have a thousand warriors stationed by the gate that leads into the caverns. They’re holding back the wood fae as best they can.” Segonax sighed. “But the press is relentless, and there are enough wood fae already inside that we might lose this city. What we truly need is more warriors, more fighters. Even five hundred more and we’d have hope. For this battle, anyway.”
Lorcan’s eyes landed on Reyna. “Reyna is worth five hundred.”
Segonax let out a chuckle, but it quickly died when he realized that Lorcan was not deadly serious. “She is a formidable Shieldmaiden, Your Highness, but she is only one sword against many. I do not think that will be enough.”
“During our journey, Reyna picked up more than just a pair of wings.” Lorcan rested a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Imagine she is five hundred warriors. Where would you send her to save this city?”
For a moment, Segonax did not reply. He seemed too stunned to do anything but stare.
“Answer your prince, Seg,” Nollaig said. “He’s asked you a question.”
“I would send her to Fomorian Square where the statues are. It’s only a few streets away from the gate. There’s a group of about five hundred wood fae there. If they approach our warriors from behind, we’ll be surrounded. The city will have no hope.”
Lorcan gave a firm nod. “Then, that is our task. We will get Reyna to Fomorian Square and form a barrier around her while she fights. She can stop the wood fae from taking our army down from behind.”
“What’s she going to do, Lorcan?” Seg asked, his firm and unyielding frown a sign that he was not convinced.
“Whatever it is, the wood fae will not stand a chance against it.”
46
Reyna
They pushed forward down the thin city streets that wound through the black stone huts of Findius. Lorcan took the lead, his loyal commander by his side. Nollaig and Reyna moved just behind them while the warriors took the rear. In total, there were ten of them, scarcely enough to face down a thousand well-trained wood fae and win.
But Lorcan had faith in her and in her powers. Far more faith than she had in herself. She did not yet know the full extent of what she could do or how to harness the magic in her veins. How could she use it to fight the battle that was looming before them? Would she even be able to control it? Or would it control her?
As they rounded a corner, a large company of wood fae blocked their path to the square. There were at least a hundred of them, and they had corralled a large group of trembling, sobbing shadow fae. The glittering green of the armor was dulled by the misty red light of the skies, their boiled leather weak and dull contrasted to the grey scales and embossed breastplates of the warriors who called this city home.
The wood fae turned when they heard Lorcan’s company storm into the streets. Several of them laughed, clearly unconcerned. Lorcan’s company was few in number, and Reyna was armed with nothing more than a slender ice dagger she hadn’t even bothered to draw. She didn’t even have her familiar. She’d told him to wait far out of sight, fearful that a wood fae arrow would strike him in the heart.
“Fan out!” Lorcan commanded, taking charge. The shadow fae cast nervous glances amongst themselves, but they followed the orders of their liege.
They are loyal to him, Reyna thought with a tight smile. Good. He will need them when I leave.
As the shadow fae fanned out and the wood fae drew their arrows, Lorcan grabbed her one last time, his fingers digging into her shoulders. “Can you do this?”
Swallowing a hard lump, she nodded.
“I’m trusting you,” he said hoarsely. “I’m trusting you to not get yourself killed. Please, for the love of the Dagda, don’t let me down.”
He stormed off, motioning for the others to lift their shields. A volley of arrows soon followed, a storm of feathers and iron and wood. Reyna focused on the path of the arrows, dodging each one and then snatching a few from the air. The front line of the wood fae fell back. Some shouted, waving ahead another volley of arrows.
With a sigh, she ducked and spun and dodged. She heard the thunk of iron slamming into wood as the shadow fae did their best to stand their ground.
“What the hell is she?” one of the wood fae shouted.
“A Shieldmaiden,” another replied.
“Is she a Fomorian or something?”
“No. She’s just an ice fae. They can dodge arrows, but they can’t dodge swords. Send in the melee team.”
Reyna smiled and curled her hands into fists. This was what she had been waiting for. A real challenge. She could dodge arrows all day, but this. This was new.
The archers parted, and a rush of sword-wielders charged toward Reyna and her group. Smiling, she raced forward to meet them. She leapt into the air, calling upon the one element she knew would never fail her. In her mind’s eye, she imagined her kingdom back home. She thought of the ice-peaked mountains and the snow that blanketed the woods. The hoarfrost worms and their whispers, their urging her to go on.
Suddenly, her body filled with strength. Her mind felt clearer than it ever had before. She slammed onto the ground before the wood fae, and the ground transformed to ice beneath her feet. Fingers of ice stretched out from where she knelt, crawling up the wood fae forms and freezing them into place.
Reyna gaped, her heart a somersault of emotion.
She hadn’t meant to do that, but...it would work.
Curses exploded from the remaining wood fae as their line stumbled back even more. She quickly scanned the street. About twenty had frozen, leaving at least seventy more. The archers had fallen back to lurk in the buildings behind them, and only the melee warriors were left.
They sized her up, watching and waiting.
“Too scared?” she called out.
A few of them chuckled, but she saw the fear in their eyes. There was no hiding it.
“How do you have magic?” one shouted. She turned, zeroing in on the speaker. She was a tall, strong fae with willowy hair and gleaming turquoise eyes. Her armor was made up of thin scales made from bark, and her feet were bare. A Dryad then. Reyna was surprised they would be willing to fight for the wood king.
Reyna gave her a wide smile. “Because I feast on the flesh of my enemies.”