A twang in my chest distracts me. The Call.
“Rose.” All eyes swivel to face me, but I wave them off. “Let’s get him out of here. I think the wolfie’s fight has begun.”
My poor little pet gets so worried over her unkillable males. It’s sweet, really.
Without waiting for their permission, I blink Bram, and then Madoc, to the dock where we stashed our little boat. They stumble around in shock for an instant, but I don’t have time to watch.
“The salve hasn’t kicked in yet,” Prae objects when I return for the Fomorians.
She’s managed to get rid of the cuffs on Caed’s wrists and is rubbing more of Kitarni’s lotions and potions into the raw skin there. It seems a little pointless, given that the salves won’t heal his broken bones and missing body parts.
“Awww.” I pretend to care for half a second before blinking her away to join the others.
“Next time,” I say, as I return to Caed’s still shivering almost-corpse. “Refrain from following Rose around like a lost puppy, and this won’t happen.”
Very slowly, and with a grimace of pain, he lifts one bleeding hand and flips me off.
I chuckle. “Oooh, careful, blue. Keep this up, and I might actually start to like you.”
I sweep my cap from my head and run it over the fresh blood on his face before he can react, then blink us both to the little boat.
“Where did Prince One and Prince Two go?” I ask, confused, as Prae unmoors us.
“To sail the decoy boat in the opposite direction,” she retorts. “Honestly, were you even listening to the plan?”
“Nah,” I shove Caed over and lean back in the hull. “Plans are for stuffy seelies. Improvisation is an art form.” Lowering my cap over my eyes, I yawn. “Wake me up when we get there.”
“Redcap!” Prae snaps. “You’re supposed to glamour the boat.”
“Oh, yep. Someone mentioned something about that.”
Sighing, I push up from my napping spot and pop a glamour over us, all the while wondering why the Call is so antsy in my chest.
“I bet the wolf is showing off,” I mutter, pouting as I rub away the fluttering sensation behind my sternum.
Twenty-Six
Rhoswyn
Jaro shifts, his body morphing easily into the huge wolf I love so much. He shakes out his sandy fur, stretching, before he levels his golden gaze at the twins. Aiyana’s mouth turns down as she beholds him. Without comment, she reaches out and tips over an elegant silver sandglass.
The drumbeat stops.
“Begin!”
I barely have time to brace myself as the twins join hands. Jaro instantly stiffens.
The wolf’s eyes roll back in his head. His spine arcs, tail tucking so far between his legs that I can no longer see it.
“Rose, you need to keep calm.” Bree’s lips are at my ear, breathing the words so quietly that I barely hear them. “The Call will distract him and give them more ammunition.”
Stay calm. I can do that. I take a deep breath, falling back on the way Kitarni told me to focus on the air entering and leaving my lungs. It gets harder when the images start to appear on the dusty floor of the arena, blurry at first, then sharpening.
I shouldn’t be surprised that Jaro’s first nightmare is set in the middle of a bloody conflict, given that he’s a warrior. The entire arena watches through the eyes of a wolf, low to the ground, as he races through clashing swords and screaming fae. The boy with the magic responsible is apparently able to project sound as well. Cries of pain and roars of anger echo in the amphitheatre.
Even like this, it feels so real.
The battle is fae against Fomorians. Swords flash. Magic blasts rain down. It’s a terrifying assault on the senses, and more than a few members of the audience shuffle back, alarmed by the intensity—or perhaps the mere sight of Fomorians.
