We could ride to them now and fight them, even outnumbered as we are. We're stronger than the raving soldiers we’ve faced countless times before, stronger than them all…except Kharl, untouchable in his power. If he has any magic stores left to use on the inner wall after that burst, we’re doomed.
Yregar will fall.
As my mouth opens to give the command to send out a battalion of our own to ride out and meet their advance, there’s another rumble of power within the earth, and our gazes are dragged as if by command to the fae door. The air shimmers within the burning branches, and the door opens again, only this time a stream of countless witches travel through, screaming and running as they descend like a plague of raving death into the village.
The true might of Kharl’s armies have arrived.
CHAPTERFORTY-ONE
Rooke
I take up my position by the wall in the cell once more, refusing to meet Reed’s eyes as he cringes at the guard post, leaving me to wallow in the heavy air around us.
It's different down here, thanks to my power exchange with the earth, my magic weakened at the worst possible time, and the barrier of the iron presses around me as the cell doors are locked once more. They've been repaired and fitted with extra locks, all of them clicking into place behind me as I fume in the corner. There’ll be no easy escape this time, not until I’m back in good health, and the castle above me could be gutted by the approaching army by then.
Prince Soren deserves to be burned to nothing but ash.
I should never have helped any of them, should’ve left them all to the consequences of their actions. The results of generations of high-fae arrogance and stupidity, their obsession with themselves and their own kind leading them here.
“You might want to rein in your temper before Prince Soren and his cousins come down to check on you. Your anger is only going to prove them right.”
I ignore Reed, pushing my back against the stone and letting my eyes slip shut as I check in with the earth. It's quiet beneath us, deceptively so after so many weeks of listening to its ravenous hunger, but it reaches out to greet me kindly. It’s glad to feel my loving presence here, joy radiating from it until the storm in my heart calms a little.
“Prince Tauron told me not to let you bleed yourself down here, so don't try any of your magic, witch.”
My eyes snap open, and I finally meet Reed’s gaze with a glare. A secret part of me, dark and malicious and every inch the monster they believe me to be, is overjoyed when he flinches back from the heat of my ire directed right at him.
My words drip with every bit of the venom I feel within me, “A messenger comes to say that Kharl and his army are arriving at Yregar, and that's enough for you all to be convinced I'm evil. I'm nothing more than a witch to any of you, and yet when the trees in the orchard bloom in spring, the crops finally take hold in that dust bowl outside the castle walls, I suppose you'll come crawling back to me to beg for more of my magic.”
I shake my head, an incredulous laugh falling from my lips as I look away from him and back up to the stones hanging overhead. “What am I saying? The high-fae male arrogance couldn't possibly admit to any fault. You’ll probably take responsibility for the harvest.”
Reed doesn't answer, and silence falls between us once more. My skin begins to itch, and it takes me a moment to realize it's not due to the iron that surrounds me, but the Fates singing as the doom of Yregar rides here, the consequences of breaking the curse finally come for their ounce of flesh. There’s no changing the facts, the die is already cast for the battle. The high fae soldiers are strong, but Kharl is stronger. If he joins the battle, then Yregar will fall.
Princess Airlie and the baby will die.
The evening crawls by in silence. Reed grows more agitated as the hours creep by, his hands constantly picking at his clothing and scratching the back of his neck, pulling on his skin as though he's trying to fit it back over his bones, only this time the correct way so the itch will settle.
There is no settling the itch, no way to stop the Fates when they come for you, and we’re forced to sit in excruciating anticipation and wait.
In the early hours of the morning, we hear the first sounds of the attack.
Reed's head snaps up.
I shut my eyes and try to reach out with my magic to get a read on what's happening, but I have only enough to cover the castle, now locked down and protected. All of the high fae that Soren kept far away from me are holed up in their rooms while the soldiers monitor all of the hallways and open spaces of the castle. The maids and servants are in the kitchens, still toiling away but secured there for their own safety should the castle be taken.
Airlie and the baby are in her chambers with Firna, and a half dozen soldiers watch over them. They’re alive and well for now, but there's no sign of Prince Soren or the other high fae princes.
A rattling sounds deep within the earth, and Reed curses viciously, turning on the spot as he runs a hand through his hair and tugs at it. Frustration leaks out of his pores, but I ignore him, pulling my magic back into myself and trying not to sweat or shake at the effort that took. I'm practically useless now, my act of good faith rendering me nothing more than a burden. It will take another three days of good sleep and a full belly for my stores to be replenished.
Reed begins to pace, his footsteps quiet against the stone, but he doesn't mutter or curse under his breath at being trapped here, guarding me. His head tilts as he listens, his pacing an attempt to burn off some of the frenetic energy within him. When he does finally curse, vicious and long, the door above us opens and careful but speedy footsteps run down the stairs, the clink of heels against the stone an announcement of their own.
I open my eyes in time to see Princess Airlie walking toward the cell. There’s a harried look on her face, and she’s unkempt, dressed in a way that looks so deeply foreign to her usual appearance that I can’t help but stare. The baby is in his sling across her chest, and pain blooms in my chest at the reminder of all the innocent lives within the castle walls. If the Savage Prince fails to stop the siege tonight, they’ll all die.
Reed starts toward her, alarm in his voice as he says, “Princess, you can’t—“
“Do notthinkto tell me what I can and cannot do, Reed Snowheart. I willend your bloodline.”
Reed's mouth snaps shut, his head bowing in deference to the princess as she hitches the sling across her chest a little higher, approaching the iron bars without missing a step.
