She raised her hands. “Don’t be afraid,” she called, her voice steadying as she spoke. “It’s a sign from the Otherworld, from the Sheedar themselves. A call to action!”
The black Athraith pawed the ground, breath steaming, but the chestnut one stepped forward, lowering its great head. The air hummed. Aoife reached out and laid a trembling hand against its muzzle. The creature leaned into the touch, warm and solid. Chestnut hair glinted along its mane. Riona. It had to be Riona.
The crowd stirred, whispers growing louder. Her father’s voice rose above them.
“It’s a sign!” he shouted. “The Shee stand with us!”
Others took up the cry, voices overlapping until it rolled like surf.
Lugh stepped out from among the line of soldiers, eyes wide, and reached to touch the Athraith’s flank. The instant his fingers brushed its coat, his breath hitched, awe written clear on his face.
Lord Halverton’s voice sliced through the noise. “Do something!” he bellowed at the soldiers.
The line of soldiers hesitated, struggling to hold back the surging villagers. Shouts and movement blurred together.
Halverton snatched the rifle from the nearest man and fired into the crowd. The shot cracked through the air like lightning. Someone fell. Aoife couldn’t see who. Screams tore through the courtyard.
He seized another rifle and swung it toward the Athraith. Aoife’s heart clenched. The next shot rang out. She turned as a figure fell to the ground beside her, but it wasn’t Riona. It was Lugh.
Aoife dropped to her knees beside him, pressing her hands against the wound. Blood slicked her fingers. “Stay with me,” she whispered. Lugh’s mouth was moving. She leant in closer to hear what he was trying to say.
“Athraith… is… it…”
Aoife looked up. Riona and Steafan had fled. She caught sight of them as they disappeared into the forest. She couldn’t blame them.
“They’re all right,” she told him. “You saved her.”
Lugh smiled, then coughed, and a trickle of blood spilled out the side of his mouth.
“Hold on,” she told him, pressing harder. “Help me.” She shouted into the crowd. At the top of the stairs, Kian struggled against Wiren, trying to reach them.
When she turned back to Lugh, it was already too late.
Aoife touched her forehead to Lugh’s. “May the Shee guide you home.” She stayed there a moment, regretting that she didn’t have better words, that she hadn’t known him better.
By the time she stood, the soldiers had regained control. Many of them had their weapons pointed at the crowd. But eventhey turned back to look. Halverton had killed one of his own men.
Cormac had been right. None of them were safe.
Halverton descended the stairs slowly, deliberately, as though reclaiming control with every step. He bent and picked up the lash Aoife had dropped. The motion was graceful and fluid. In the same movement, he raised it high and struck.
The lash cracked like thunder, and Cormac’s whole body jerked against the ropes. His shoulder tore under the strain, the breath ripped out of him, and then he lifted his head, eyes burning.
Is that all you’ve got? The words weren’t spoken, but she heard them as clearly as if he’d shouted. The defiance was there in the set of his jaw, in the way he rolled his shoulders, daring the next strike.
Aoife’s stomach lurched. Every spark of resistance only goaded Halverton further, and she knew it, knew Cormac knew it too. Still, he wouldn’t stop.
She lunged for Halverton, catching his arm, trying to tear the lash from his hand. He shoved her; the blow knocked her to the ground.
Halverton didn’t give the crowd time to breathe. The lash cracked again and again and again, three blows in swift succession.
Cormac jolted with each one, his body snapping against the ropes. The second strike tore a ragged sound from him, half-roar, half-groan, but the next two he swallowed down, chest heaving, teeth bared too wild to be a smile.
Aoife was on her feet again, grabbing for Halverton’s arm.
“I thought you wanted me to get my hands dirty,” he snarled, grinning like a madman.
He thrust the whip into another soldier’s hands. “Fifty lashes,” he said, and seized Aoife by the arm.
