“But they will probably be hunted there,” I objected.
“We know. We have some sanctuaries where they may be safe for a time. There is no other choice until I can get my hands on Balor and make him pass his power on to a monarch who is more fit to rule,” Rian reminded me.
“Alright,” I relented, unable to think of an alternative. “What do you need me to do? I’m not sure I have enough magic to heal so many.”
“I need you to create a portal to the Vale.”
My eyebrows flicked up, and I glanced over at Carrick in uncertainty of how to respond to this odd request.
“Umm… I appreciate you wanting to try and make me feel useful right now, but I can’t make the portals that you and the other riders use. I travel through the ley lines.”
“Exactly,” said Rian with a nod of approval. “There is a ward preventing us from portalling directly to the Vale, but Nuala says you can get around it. I know you cannot carry people with you inside the ley lines, so I need you to do whatever you did last night to weave magics.”
“Weave magics,” I repeated dubiously.
“You were able to use your power in collaboration with both mine and Sage’s magic,” he reminded me.
I blinked as I recalled doing just that in order to save Rian’s life. I had used Sage’s magic to remove the Light from insideRian, and then I used Rian’s power to absorb the power of the Sylvan. Typically, his shadows would have been scalded, but with my healing magic as a buffer between them, I had juggled all three at once.
“You think I can make a portal using the Tithriall?”
“Nuala said it was possible,” Rian insisted.
“And you want me to try and work out how to wield this abnormal medley of magic while still depleted and with Ciaran breathing down my neck?” I verified.
“I hoped he could guide you on how to form portals,” Rian maintained, although he winced as if he was already aware of what he was asking me.
“What about Darragh?”
“Ciaran has taken it upon himself to oversee the care and safety of the Spring fey. I will not reassign him. I am not confident he would listen if I tried.”
“Right,” I sighed reluctantly. “Let’s go then.”
“Took you long enough,” Ciaran snapped the moment we stepped through Rian’s portal into his tent. I recognized the faint scents of burned clothing andcneasúinstantly from the night Sage had first introduced me to his cousin. Everything seemed to be in its place, but there was still a sense of chaos in the space as if it had not yet healed from the abrupt loss of Aodhan.
Ciaran stopped pacing the far side of the room behind Nuala who sat at the fire, unbothered by him while she sipped her tea. But I could tell Rian was displeased when he stiffened beside me.
“I told you to wait in the anteroom,” Rian reminded Ciaran who scoffed as he moved around the fire.
“He was polite,” Nuala reassured the Autumn Prince.
“That is not the point,” Rian insisted.
“Can we not get distracted? Sweet Elements, am I the only one who cares about getting these fey to safety?” shouted Ciaran angrily.
I understood now why Rian felt he could not remove Ciaran from this task for my benefit. There was a frenetic energy about the aes sídhe male that seemed even more vicious than usual. His clothes were rumpled as if he had managed to catch a few hours of sleep in them. His tabby eyes burned fiercely enough to spark a fire, and his long honey-coloured braid was frayed as if he had slept on it and not bothered to remake it.
I remembered how agitated he was after the Fuath had attacked the aes sídhe and how he had not been calm until he felt like we were doing something. He was obviously a male of action; he wanted a plan and to execute the plan. But I also knew from Sage that Rian would be juggling far more than just the lives of the Spring fey. He was responsible for all of us; Nuala’s comfort, my volatility, and Carrick’s broken heart, all in addition to Ciaran.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I rebuked, falling easily into our usual banter to move everything along. “Stop throwing a temper tantrum and take me wherever you need me.”
Ciaran blinked, looking momentarily caught off guard before he glowered once more at Rian and then stepped between us. He knocked into both of our shoulders and exited the tent at a brisk walk.
“I apologize in advance,” Rian sighed, and I blew out a breath with a nod as I turned to follow Ciaran outside.
Passing through the silencing ward around the yurts and out into the camp was always jarring. My ears pinned back in discomfort when I was suddenly accosted by the raucous sound of thousands of people around us.
I sprinted to catch up to Ciaran, dodging all manner of fey going about their daily business in the army camp. Everyone seemed to be mobilizing, although I was not sure why. And trying to keep up to Ciaran’s long-legged strides while avoidinga collision was difficult enough.
