“The Favored Children met with the latest warmongering fae attempting to claim this kingdom for themselves, ready to negotiate so they all could live peacefully on the land that was ready to provide… and that fae chose to murder a Favored Child instead of seeking peace. It wasn’t the First Fae who avenged her; it was the Bloodwyrd.”
Cerson looks over at me again, the ice finally thawing from her eyes as well, the reminder of our histories and the strength we have always held firmly wiping away her anger for now.When she reaches out her hand I take it easily, squeezing her fingers gently before I move to grip the reins once more.
Without high fae hearing,the best protection I have is my connection to the forest. With Northern Star obediently following Nightspark’s direction, I keep my eyes firmly shut as I enjoy the forest’s song. I’m not taken by surprise when the wave of magic washes over me, only by the vehemence of Roan and Tauron’s vicious cursing in the old language that startles me out of my forest-induced serenity.
Whether any of the high fae sensed the magic masking the encampment from us, I don't know; the only thing perfectly clear to me is that our messengers havegreatlymisjudged how many guards the regent has within his armies, and the number he’s sent out to face King Galen.
Across the valley floor, at the northern edge of the forest’s boundary, lies a small cluster of abandoned huts. Rhosh and her most trusted soldiers saw the fleeing fae folk to these structures, leaving behind a small number of her battalion for protection. She then created not one, but five separate diversions with the remainder of her soldiers. Splitting up was never her first choice, and she’s lost good soldiers along the way, but the forest is certain; the fae folk are alive and unharmed, but they’re no longer alone.
In the entrance of the valley standsthousandsof the regent’s guards, our soldiers outnumbered at least six-to-one.
“We should retreat while we can, wait for the cover of night to come back for the fae folk,” Tauron murmurs to Soren after a moment of stunned horror from them all, and though I can tellthey’re all deeply conflicted about leaving the fae folk like this, they all consider his suggestion.
All except Soren, who tilts his head to meet my gaze but when I nod firmly back, he simply clicks his tongue to get Nightspark and Northern Star moving forward together once more, reaching out to stroke my mare’s neck and murmuring praises to her.
Roan and Tauron both mutter curses under their breath at him, the only reaction either of them seems to be capable of at the moment, but they both have much to say of his nonchalant attitude and secretive behavior. It’s not entirely his fault; he has no knowledge of what action I’ve taken and the safeguards in place but he knows that I’m absolutely certain it will work. Whether he truly does trusts me without question now, or the trees whisper their own assurances of my safety to him, I’m not sure but when his hand drops to rest against my thigh, my cheeks flush at the possessive action.
Steady in our approach, I see signs of carelessness and wanton damage everywhere, clearly this isn’t their first time traveling through. We pass evidence of campsites, poorly built and abandoned, rudimentary yards fenced off for horses. The area has somehow become a military outpost for the regent, without Soren or his allies learning of it. Sound strategy, it's obvious why he chose it in the first place. At the mere suggestion of housing fae folk within the Blood Valley, I was met with scorn and suspicion for not holding the same fears and superstitions of the forest as the high fae. There’s no safer place to assemble and hide the might of the Unseelie Court’s armies.
I’m achingly adept at recognizing the look of a soldier ready to die; Tauron wears it without pride or fear as he stares straight ahead at the small crowd beginning to form a makeshift ‘welcome’ for our arrival. Reed is also prepared to fight but with less willing acceptance of his own demise. With a newly kindledfear in his eye I’ve never seen before, Roan stares around at the battalions though it quickly becomes clear he's picking out the bloodwitches, wincing every time he spots another.
Spread out amongst the high fae, the solitary assignments of the bloodwitches confirm they’re nothing but tools in this war, pawns of the regent’s waiting to be put to use. The Bloodwyrd Mother would be disgusted by them.
Gideon directs his horse to ride closely alongside his wife’s, his posture rigid in the saddle. He's careful never to step in front of her, his respect for her unfaltering even given the circumstances, and the twitch of a nerve his jaw is the only sign of his distress. Rhosh’s face is set like stone. Gage is far less stoic as he stares around the battalions, his mouth tightening as we pass them all by and he takes count. I’d rather not know the answer.
We stop before the crowd as a group, Soren and I shifting to the front, with the Briarfrost battalions flanking us. In the eerie stillness that’s taken hold of the Valley now the snowstorm has broken, the air is still icy despite the magic holding us within. The trees around us are awake, the long sleep they require over winter abandoned after too many centuries without sacrifice. A complete serenity settles over my shoulders, like the warmth of a cloak clutched tightly against the cold.
“You remembered, little Mother Ravenswyrd! How kind of you to find me an Elmswyrd bitch to play with, I supposed she’s your peace offering to beg for your life?”
My blood chills at the reminder, my calm demeanor gone, but when my temper lights with depthless ferocity, I realize instantly the feelings are Soren’s, his ferocious reaction to my family being disrespected spilling through our mind connection.
I’ve never been so certain that this male is worth every minute that I spent hiding in the dungeons of Yregar. If onlyI didn't have quite so many fae to convince the truth of those words.
Cerson looks over to me, cold fury still on her face. The longer we look at each other, the more she takes in until she knows every inch of my reluctance, the reservations I've held from the moment I accepted my fate to return here, and the sheer relief I feel that this chapter of my journey is complete. There’s guilt entwined with that, but for now, Baylor Fray must be held accountable for what he’s done.
“I’d prefer if you didn't warm her up for me, Ravenswyrd. I prefer to break my mounts myself. Although… the Bloodwyrd has returned to the Southern Lands, their blood has called them home. Maybe the Elmswyrd is better off spent there, ensuring their welcome is warm— and wet.”
Staring down at the Betrayer, every inch of unerring Mother that I am, his penance has already been decided and his death meticulously planned out by my brother. With every word against his wife, that justice grows stronger and my tempercannotruin this. To falter now would be to fail Pemba, and I’d rather dive into the jaws of a Ureen… again.
Unaware of the thrumming beat of my heart in my ears, his death playing out over and over again, Baylor stands before us with an arrogant smirk stretched across his lips and eyes that linger on Cerson for far too long. For now, Ayron is nowhere to be seen, and I hope it stays that way, but the deplorable Lord Vyrain is once again flanked by a handful of guards he commands, glaring at Soren from beside Baylor. The bloodwitch looks far too impressed with himself, as though this allegiance and this gathering is some great victory he’s won.
I suppose for a male who once called himself a Bloodwyrd witch yet only bears one witch mark, this probably is his first opportunity to earn a sigil. The one carved down his cheekdeclares him banished from the Bloodwyrd Coven, never to claim the coven as his kin again.
He sees me staring at the glowing red lines and the smirk on his face turns into a garish grin. “How well do you know the customs of blood, Ravenswyrd? Once you're dead at my hand, I'll bear the sigil of your dead coven so all will know I ended the Favored Children! Lord Vyrain has been explaining the twisted family trees of the Unseelie royal high fae as well. If I kill the Savage Cunt along with you I'll claim two sigils in one fell swoop.”
The flash of those sigils in my mind paired with the taunting pride in his voice has my gut clenching, and if I have to listen to the male any further I’m going to vomit. Swinging out of my saddle and stepping towards Baylor and Vyrain, I ignore the eyes that widen in panic around me as Soren follows my actions, staying a few paces behind me. Our most trusted household try not to react as they flank the true Celestial heir, but I’m certain that while there are many dangers I’ll no doubt face on our journey home, I’m not being reckless.
This is an act of love, grief, and solace.
This will see my family rest, after almost two hundred years of waiting.
I’m used to performing under the intense disapproval of the males around me, centuries of experience under my belt already, and by the ashes great mercies, I’m about to get a whole lot more of it but it’s too late now.
With a deep breath, I call on my magic and it answers instantly. A shot of power through my veins so powerful the forest rumbles in approval, the ground shifting beneath our feet as the roots of the trees shift and writhe with joy. Pushing the pulse into the palm of my hand, I watch the skin split open under the pressure and send a steady stream of blood tumbling to the earth below. My heartbeat stutters for a moment beforeit recovers, thrumming steady as it picks up its tempo, waiting until the pace is perfect before I begin the blood call, weaving my magic first like a web around me.
The call to arms was taught to me before I could walk, the actions taught in games and jest, the oath whispered like a prayer to the Fates before bed, quizzed at every opportunity, praises showered upon me for speaking the oaths as old as the forest I stand within now without stumbling.
Like moths to the flame, the bloodwitches all walk away from their battalions to stand before me. Impossible for a Bloodwyrd witch to ignore, even those exiled feel the pull of the command and gather nearby. Exactly where I want them; none should escape this.
