Page 103 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“Then Cluaineach shall have her heir,” Raegan sighed.

But I couldn’t quite hear him. Everything in me had stilled as I refused to blink away from Rory.

Rory, who in all of the chaos had released that bowstring.

The bowstring, that in its recoil had disturbed the straightness of Rory’s hair.

Rory’s hair, which was now pushed aside to reveal his ears.

His ears, which were no more.

Where they should have been was torn flesh, their removal recent from the puffiness of the flesh.

His eyes met mine.

He looked at my agape mouth and the betrayal in my eyes.

As he pushed his hair back over his lack of ear, I stared at the traitor of Saoghal.

41

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“Why is Choilltean’s Druid travelling with us?” I whispered to Killian.

He glanced over his shoulder to affirm the Druid’s presence. “I have no idea. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Maybe he is needed to rescind Choilltean’s name from Raegan. Who knows.” He shrugged.

I wished I could have taken a moment to relish in the fact that there was something Killian didn’t know, but I was too busy being overly petrified at our situation. Raegan, along with some of his hand-picked ‘witnesses’ — me, Shea, Killian, and apparently his Druid — were on our way to Cluaineach, only an hour after Raegan had planned to take the throne of Choilltean.

The Cluaineach pixies that had stormed the throne room of the Choilltean castle escorted us. Not at the edge of the blade but simply with their bodies, as if they were convinced Raegan had plans of escape up his sleeve. That was why we were not able to take our own mounts, instead having to walk most of the journey on foot. Only once we reached Uisge and had to be hoisted onto their song-birds did we have the relief of not walking. But then we touched down on the opposite side of the water and were back to placing the weight over our feet.

What they didn’t know, what no one realised, was that we did have our own mounts. Because Gliocas and Urram, still camouflaged as parrots, were soaring through the air above us. It was a strange sort of comfort, even though I was hoping with all of my might that we would not need them.

~

Cluaineach was just as prepared for Raegan’s coronation as Choilltean had been. Once we pushed our way through the dense shrubbery of the meadows surrounding Choilltean, we were met with roadways packed with pixies awaiting his arrival. They all hovered on the edges of the roads, poking and prodding one another to get a look at their heir. The noise was the worst part of it all — the air soon filled with shouting and screaming, calls of love and well-wishes for their soon-to-be-King. Items flew through the air as we walked; petals and stones, chiselled crafts, whittled gifts, chains of grass, even collected feathers and oddities.

But the strangest part was that Raegan was overjoyed. He smiled at them all, waved as he passed, even tipped his chin to the occasional overzealous pixie who dared to lurch forwards towards him. There was a gleam in his eye as he looked across at his people, but it wasn’t the genuine radiance that I had seen from him when in Cluaineach. Whatever it was that he was doing, he was playing the part well.

A little too well.

I chose to believe it was relief. Because under it all, beneath the many layers and masks that Raegan tried to conceal himself with, I knew what it was that he truly desired. I knew what had called to him his whole life. It was a surprise that his friends could not see it, but perhaps one had to be looking for it. I wasn’t sure why I was.

Under it all, Raegan wanted Cluaineach. I was unsure if he wanted the crown, as it seemed to me that the idea of being a king altogether was not what he wanted. But I knew, when it came down to the choice of the two kingdoms, what Raegan wanted. So I let myself believe that was why he looked so thrilled about it.

~

The parade for his ascension ended once we reached the castle, the sun-kissed exterior and blossoming plant-life soon disappearing as we stepped into the cold interior. Guards were posted at the castle doors, refusing anyone access but our small party.

Diarmuid guided us through the halls, until we paused outside of the throne room that I had, at one point, admired. Now, though, something about it sent an icy chill over my skin as we pushed through those doors and halted before the finery.

Another Druid was there, waiting for us all behind the throne.

Raegan nodded to the guards that had granted us entry before the doors slammed shut, and the small group from Choilltean followed behind Raegan as he strode towards his throne. Once he took a seat, though, he lifted his eyes to the gathering of us that stood before him and made a declaration.

“Let as many pixies as can fit in this room, in.”

Diarmuid couldn’t decide whether to frown or gasp, so ended up doing both. “But, Your Highness–”