The blackness slowly recedes from her wrists as I arrange her over my shoulder, keeping her there with one arm pinned over the back of her thighs. I use my free hand to signal to Prae that we’ll meet at the agreed point—an abandoned barn outside the city we discovered on our early reconnaissance—in two hours.
Long enough for her to grab our gear and bring our horses.
I don’t know what happened in Siabetha, but given the evidence and the baying of hounds headed our way, it wasn’t good.
My cousin disappears back the way she came, and I take off in the opposite direction.
“You never make things easy, do you, little queen?” I grumble under my breath.
Water. If they have scent-hounds, then we need to find a stream or something to confuse their sensitive noses. Once they’re out of the way, I’ll head to higher ground and work on losing the fae trackers. Luckily for Rose, I spent my childhood running from Elatha’s ravenous dogs and my adult life dancing circles around the fae. I can get us out of this.
Her weight bounces against my back as I run, leaving the small copse of trees behind. The rolling meadows and hills will do little to hide us, but I’m more focused on gaining distance. If they can see us, they’re too damned close.
“Caed,” she mumbles, but I don’t think she’s actually conscious.
“A little quiet right now would be helpful,” I tell her, turning left into a field thick with tall stalks of corn.
This should be enough cover for?—
“Halt!”
A fae drops to the ground in front of me, sword raised high and her butterfly wings flared wide. Her Summer Court armour has a gaudy mirror shine, reflecting a second fae as he lands behind me.
“Release the Nicnevin, Fomorian!”
Rolling my eyes, I heft Rose a little closer and draw my sword.
These two are scouts. Take them out, and we can flee before the main party reaches us.
What I wouldn’t give to have my fucking magic right about now.
I block the incoming blow, dodging the next. Shit. Rose is too close to that blade.
The next hit is definitely aimed at her. Fuck. They don’t care if she dies, which puts me at a disadvantage. I need to end this.
Tension thrums beneath my skin, kicking up my pulse until it’s frantic and loud in my ears. I reach desperately for the magic in my chest, praying for my ghost swords to ignore the Goddess’s curse and answer my desperate call.
No one is more shocked than I am when one appears. Just one—nowhere near my usual six—but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
A second sword is enough to tip the balance and put them on the defensive. The first soldier goes down with my real sword through her throat, distracted by the ghostly blade. Her comrade puts up more of a fight, striking with a fierce war cry. The blow would’ve caught Rose if not for me twisting at the last moment. Instead, it slashes through crops, felling them in a wide arc.
That seals it. He’s trying to kill her. He dies. Now.
Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. He’s unburdened and gets in a lucky swing to my free shoulder a few seconds later.
Blood spurts—mine, not Rose’s, thank fuck.
He overbalances as his blade catches on my collarbone, then wrenches it free. Well, he tries to. It’s stuck. Each tug sends a brutal bolt of pain ricocheting down my arm. Roaring, I funnel my agony and fury into my own slashing blow. He’s immobilised by his own sword. I drive mine into his ribs so hard that theycrack. It’s the opening I need.
My ghost blade takes his head with an easy swing, then disappears.
The scout slumps to the ground, his head rolling away between the corn stalks. Taking a deep breath, and trying not to tense, I sheath my sword and yank the blade in my shoulder free, tearing the wound savagely.
“Fuck!” I bellow, dropping the metal with a clatter, and drawing my bleeding arm back to examine the damage.
It’ll heal, but it also fucking hurts, and now there’s a trail for the hounds to follow.
Ripping a strip from Rose’s tattered dress, I hastily wrap the wound, then cloak both of us in glamour. There’s a stream to the west, and I head straight for it. With each step, I try to reach for my ghost swords again, but they won’t reappear.
