While Vale held the line, I saw an opening. Urien was focusing too much on the outpouring of magic, and too little on his own defense. I hurled a dagger, the dangerous tip flashing like a silver comet as it flew through the air. Urien's eyes widened in realization too late. The blade pierced his eye, and he gasped in agony. His magic flickered, losing its potency, and for a moment, the entire park seemed to hold a collective breath.
Vale seized upon the faerie’s moment of weakness. The demigod swung his sword, the blade burning through the air like a streak of fire. Urien raised his hands to conjure another shield, but it wasn’t fast enough. Vale’s blade grazed his side, sending him stumbling back in pain. He pressed one hand to his eye and the other against his side as blood seeped from the wounds.
“On a scale of one to ten,” I said, “how would you rate the pain?”
Urien stared at his bloodstained hands, as though the sight of his own blood was a foreign experience for him.
Maybe it was.
He swayed once, then folded silently into the grass.
For a long moment, the only sound was the fountain’s steady spill of water.
Vale wiped his blade clean on the bark of a nearby tree. Cowboy straightened, scorch marks already healing, although his hat couldn’t say the same.
Mist rose from the ground, floating above the lawn like a wayward cloud. When it receded, the fae were gone. The Coranians had activated their escape hatch once again.
From a distance, the park looked almost untouched. Moonlight softened the scorch marks, the torn grass, the bodies cooling in the shadows.
“I gotta be honest,” Gage said, gazing at the ground in wonder. “I wouldn’t mind learning a few of their sorcery skills.”
Vale turned in a slow circle, surveying the area. “Does anyone need medical attention?”
“Nothing that a few beers won’t cure,” Cowboy said, hobbling toward us. His jeans were as dirty and torn as his hat, as though he’d been dragged across the park by wild horses.
Nina wiped streaks of blood from her neck and shoulder. “I’m good, boss. Just a few cuts and bruises.”
“You didn’t shift,” I said.
“I’m a wereotter. I wouldn’t have been much help in my animal form.”
I spun to Vale. “Don’t you have any werewolves on your payroll?”
“A couple lone wolves, but the wolf pack tends to stick to the outer territory. More freedom.”
In other words, they didn’t want to take orders from a demigod. Typical.
“I don’t understand the oni,” Gage said. “Were they signaling the arrival of the weird-ass parade or the Coranians?”
“The Night Parade of One Hundred Demons,” I replied, “but I think the Coranians knew the parade was coming and used it as a diversion.”
“Then why did the oni show up on Evermore if the parade was here?” Vale asked.
“They’re harbingers, not GPS. They make appearances in the general vicinity.” I’d also wager they’d been drawn to the concentration of supernatural power on the island. It probably served as a beacon to those capable of moving between realms. I’d have to add that to the incident report I’d inevitably have to submit to the HOA.
“The Coranians still have the stone,” Vale said.
And we had no idea how many more they needed to reform the tablet and reclaim the mortal land. It could be one; it could be twenty.
“A problem for another day, boss,” Cowboy said. “From the looks of them, I don’t think they’ll be back anytime soon.”
“Let’s hope not,” Nina said. “I haven’t had to fight against that level of magic—ever.”
Coranians. Unwoven. Thread-Thieves. Thornborn. All fae. All showing up in Savannah after a very long respite. Vale was right. It wasn’t a coincidence, but whether the demigod’s perceived weakness was the reason remained to be seen.
“I need to head back to Evermore now,” I said.
Vale didn’t hesitate. “We’ll take my boat.”
