Page 104 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“Let them in,” Raegan snarled, back to looking like a prince of the realm. There wasn’t much Diarmuid could do under that scrutiny, other than turn on his heel, push open the doors, and usher the command to the guards.

As the room flooded with pixies, wild grins on their faces and shining eyes, Killian moved away from my side. I was left huddling against Shea, both of us allowing such close contact purely out of the strange situation we had found ourselves in. That, and the fact that the blood on our hands still felt warm. But I couldn’t focus on that.

By the time everyone was settled, long rows of pixies formed across the room all looking up to the raised dais on which Raegan sat, Killian was standing proud at his side with his hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

I dared a sidelong glance at Shea, who had her lower lip pulled between her teeth and a tight conjunction of her brows on her forehead.

At least I wasn’t the only one confused.

The Cluaineach Druid, just as decrepit and aged as the one from Choilltean, stepped up towards the throne. Instead of a crown carved from stone, this one was an intricate weaving of flowers, brambles, and leaves that held a solid structure from some sort of clay base. I wouldn’t admit it, but it was far more elegant than the one from Choilltean. It was far more Raegan.

The Druid looked up to the ceiling, just as the one from Choilltean had. “This one is Raegan, dearest gods. We welcome him to the seat of our kingdom with the name he was born to; Raegan Righ’Faiche’Rugadh.”

Shea grumbled beside me.

Just like the first ceremony, I swore the air shifted. But this was less of a gentle caress across the throne room and more of an inverted gasp.

“Raegan Righ’Faiche’Rugadh, humbly accept our open arms, for we desire nothing more than for you to rule over our people.”

Raegan smiled.

The crown was just hovering over the tips of his brightened hair.

“Do you accept the role of our protector, our guide, our eyes and ears and hands, from this day forward?”

Raegan took a deep sigh. But I couldn’t shake this feeling, this innate warning in my chest that something wasn’t right. Raegan’s eyes had taken to that fox-like shape once more.

“I do.”

“Rise then, King of Cluaineach.”

The Druid of Cluaineach beamed as he set the crown against Raegan’s head, which was met with an assortment of cheering from the witnessing pixies all around us. Everyone, except for Shea who continued to frown at her friend, and Killian whose face was so steady, so unwavering, that it would have been easy to believe he was a statue

I stared at Raegan, but he wouldn’t look at me. He simply looked straight through everyone as he pushed up onto his feet and offered a deep bow to the people he now ruled over, who only cheered and roared even louder.

Cluaineach had a monarch once more.

Raegan motioned for Diarmuid to join him up on the dais. Shakily, pale-faced, the Regent King obliged him and slowly crept his way up to Raegan, who wrapped an arm around him and tugged him close.

I looked around at the room, trying to identify what was making the hair on the back of my neck dance.

“People of Cluaineach!” Raegan boomed, which earned him more shouts of celebration that he grinned in response to. His hold around Diarmuid’s shoulders tightened as he used his other hand to pat his grandfather’s chest. “Let us cheer for the Regent King, who devoted many years of his life to warming the throne of Cluaineach in preparation for me!”

Diarmuid’s face flushed and he dipped his head to try and conceal it as the room hit a whole new level of chaotic cheering. Bodies were pushing bodies, of which I was only spared because Shea grabbed onto me and yanked me closer to the dais.

Raegan lifted his free hand to silence everyone. His face sharpened, his features glinting as some form of malice slipped into his eyes.

“All of those years as a regent, Diarmuid, one has to wonder why you never reclaimed the throne for yourself?”

It was a question, but Raegan didn’t pose it as one. It was a poke, a subtle prod, that I’m sure only the people that knew Raegan well could identify.

Diarmuid said something completely incoherent in response, choked up by the stuttering state of his voice.

Raegan tutted as he shook his head with that poisonous smile on his face. “Doesn’t really matter now, though, does it? Though I must admit I am grateful for your unwavering loyalty to me as your heir.” He tipped his head back and chuckled, the noise like barbs in my ears.

I looked at Shea, trying to find someone else amongst this crowd that could feel the wrongness that was soaring through the air. But she was just watching Killian, who I quickly noticed had wrapped his hand even tighter around his sword, his knuckles whitening.

The next look that Raegan shot out across the crowd made me gasp. It wasn’t Raegan at all.