If only these two knew my fate and what carnage is still to come.
I walk out of the cell and glance down at the uncomfortable dress I'm still wearing, impossible to fight in. Airlie cringes as she follows my gaze, finally realizing just what her meddling has done to hinder me.
She’s brusque as she says, “Do you need fighting leathers to cast magic like this? I need you to tell me what I can do to help you, Rooke, and time is not on our side!”
I raise an eyebrow at her and flick a hand down the front of my body, enjoying the awe and disbelief radiating back at me from them both as the high fae dress melts away and shifts into the traditional fighting robes I arrived in when I returned to the Southern Lands, the same ones she threw away after the disastrous bathing incident.
The firm strips of black linen, held in place by pins made of silver, ornate only in their casting as simple oak leaves. The traditional symbol of the Ravenswyrd Coven, I insisted on wearing it even when I lived in the Northern Lands and turned away from the Ravenswyrd’s teachings. Peace and neutrality to the point of destruction, but not mine, and not Pemba’s. We formed a different way, together, to survive, and Kharl has no idea what vengeance comes calling for him today.
My feet wriggle in my new boots, and I turn on the thick heel to march up the stairs, ignoring the two high fae as they scramble after me.
Airlie mutters, “Why are you wasting power on getting changed? We could've found you something upstairs. You need every drop of power you can get to go out there to face that male. Kharl blew the front gate to pieces and took out half the outer wall with it without so much as a flick of his wrist! The male is insane, Rooke, and a healer—even with the power of the earth’s gift to you—is going to be at a great disadvantage.”
I ignore her as I make my way up the stairs, my mind already planning miles ahead of the two of them. “Do any of the high fae here today have the ability to test a lie?”
They’re both quiet for a moment, and then Airlie answers me, ignoring Reed’s indignant huff. “Tyton. Not in the traditional way, but his magic will flag any dangerous untruths.”
I nod, and when we open the door at the top of the stairs, I peek my head out for a moment to be sure there are no waiting soldiers. The hallways are clear, every man available outside and fighting. I can hear the skirmish and taste the power in the air, the way it sings to me a mournful song of corruption and evil.
“Airlie, this is the final time I’ll say this, and you need to listen to me, or I’ll force you to follow my instruction. Go now to your rooms and barricade the doors. I cannot be thinking about whether you and the young prince are safe and having that distract me while I’m out there.”
Her mouth firms into a line, but she nods, then hesitates before she says, “Reed, you’ll come with me.”
I glanced at the soldier and shake my head. “No, Princess, I need him here. He’s going to watch the front entrance of the castle and ensure the villagers have been moved into the Grand Hall for safety. If anyone asks you, Reed, you don’t remember being assigned to watch over me. Your mind has been scrambled by the evil witch downstairs, and you have no true knowledge of any orders from the prince. You’ll act as though it’s reckless of anyone to ask you such a thing while the witches attack.”
He doesn't like this at all, his loyalty and sense of honor far too strong for such deceptions, but Airlie turns back to face him, juggling her son in her arms as she keeps the baby quiet.
Her tone offers no space for argument. “This is a direct order, Reed, as your Princess Heir Apparent of Fates Mark and wife of the Commander of the Outland Forces. You must do as Rooke instructs. Once all is said and done with the battle, I need your support, and if you’re beheaded on the spot for treason, you’re no good to me or my son. We're all moving along our own paths to put Soren on the throne and save his kingdom. Someday he’ll thank us for this. We just have to survive to see that day.”
Reed mutters something unintelligible to my ears before stomping off in the direction of the front doors, his sword in his hand and his posture the perfect rigid form of a soldier prepared to fight to the death, all for the chance of peace for his kingdom.
Airlie groans and mutters one last truth. “Reed said all people committing treason would say such a thing, but he already knows the sacrifices I've made for my cousin and he for me. I wouldneverendanger him or his claim to the throne. Never, and I’ll fight for it even when he missteps.” With that, she turns to the stairs and goes.
It's not a warning to me, I'm sure, but I take it as one, a reminder that she's backing me and formed a friendship with me not only because I saved her son, but for the fate that still aches in my heart, a calling to step outside and face the army crafted of my people’s demise.
The witches there were born and bred in madness, twisted and deformed until they no longer crave the feeling of the forests around them, the loving embrace of a coven, or the magic in their own veins. They're nothing more than grunts to be directed and sacrificed in the name of Kharl's perversions, their magic stolen to fuel him. The fae doors aren’t strong enough to transport armies of witches like this, the land has been depleted for too long, and I’d wager that Kharl is the one holding them open for this attack.
I follow Reed toward the front door but pause as we pass the Grand Hall to check in on the villagers there. I’ve cast a simple glamor around myself so the soldiers standing guard can't detect me, and I find the room burgeoning with bodies, huddled together and terrified.
I throw a blanket of my power over the crowd, but no matter how many times I check, there's no sign of Whynn or her children. The orphanage didn't make it to Yregar before the witches took the village.
They could all already be dead by now, or worse. Far, far worse.
I keep the glamor over myself as I step through the front doors. Reed is there by himself, sword in hand and eyes squinted as he listens to the battle beyond the inner wall.
Hundreds of soldiers line the top of the wall, standing with bows in their hands as they fire stream after stream of arrows, the screeching of the witches following as some hit their mark. Magic lights the air above, shadows flickering as the fighting rages around us. The witches are still coming through the outer gates, as though an endless supply of them streams through from nowhere.
Though he can't see me thanks to the glamor, I speak once more to Reed. “The orphanage wasn't cleared. Whynn and the children are out there. If the witches aren’t focused on the orphanage, we can still get them to safety.”
He glances over his shoulder, his eyes unfocused as he looks straight through me and mutters quietly, “You’re supposed to be saving your power for Kharl and whatever trick you're going to use to scare him off. We can't think about the orphans right now, or we're all going to be traveling to Elysium together, no funeral pyres to see us safely on our trip.”
I click my tongue at him. “You should know by now I'm not just going to leave them out there defenseless. Will you help me, or will you prove yourself to be as useless as the rest of the high fae?”
His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth. “Ireallywish you’d stop saying that, because it might be your impression of us all, but should I remind you that the Grand Hall is filled to the brim, bursting with lower fae and part-bloods. Prince Soren didn’t just leave his kingdom to wither to care only for his own kind. He's been feeding them, protecting them, offering sanctuary to whomever he could, all while his uncle worked against him. His soldiers, all of whom are high fae, are out there ready to die to protect this castle and the fae folk within. The prince is wrong about you, I'm sure of it, but that doesn't mean he's useless.”
Now isn’t the time to examine the intentions of my Fates-cursed mate. I look around at the soldiers near us, and then I press a hand against Reed’s chest, the glamor rolling over me to cover us both as it seals him into the magic.
“Go to the orphanage and bring Whynn and the children back. Speak to her and tell her this is an act of the Ravenswyrd, tell her that I’m the Mother of the coven, and I sent you to get them to the castle.”
