Page 105 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“I admire the honour in your decision to not reclaim the throne, Diarmuid. I truly do—” He paused, that smirk slipping off his face in a way that made my body shudder, “—but I cannot risk it.”

“What are you talking abou–”

Diarmuid’s response was cut off. By a dagger that Raegan had yanked from beneath his shirt that was now sticking out of Diarmuid’s neck, blood pulsing and spitting from the wound as the Regent King gurgled on his own blood. Raegan continued to hold his grandfather close to him as his eyes swept over the crowd once more, who were now silent.

Killian had his sword out, the end of it pointed out to everyone before us, challenging anyone who dared to come to Diarmuid’s aid. Not that it would have done him any good if anyone had, because within seconds Diarmuid was nothing more than a heap of flesh on the floor, his green eyes, Raegan’s eyes, staring out amongst the throne room.

Raegan swiped his bloodied blade across his coronation shirt, huffing something beneath his breath before he sheathed it back where he had pulled it from — the back of his waistband, I realized.

No one moved an inch. I had never been in a room so full of people, yet had it be so silent. There was a faint thumping throughout the room, the chaotic spread of a hundred heartbeats racing.

Sparing Diarmuid one last glance, Raegan cleared his throat and turned fully to the crowd. “People of Cluaineach,” he began, this time not receiving a single whisper in response. “Your royal bloodline now contains only one.”

It was a threat. That much I could decipher by myself. Why — I wasn’t sure, not until moments later when Raegan growled at the Choilltean Druid to step up to the dais.

“Perform the throne rites, Druid,” Raegan snarled at him.

“I will do no such thing!” the pixie roared as he tried to step back and away from Raegan, but was stopped as Killian pressed the blunt edge of his sword to the Druid’s back.

“You will, and you will do so now,” Raegan sighed as if he was bored, seating himself upon the throne once more.

I didn’t understand. No one did, apparently, evident by the whispering that broke out amongst the Cluaineach pixies.

I wasn’t sure how appreciative the gods were of the fact the Druid stepped up and behind Raegan, only because he still had a blade pressed to his back.

“Sometime today would be nice, Druid,” Raegan seethed.

With a shaking body, the Druid looked up to the ceiling. “This one is Raegan.”

The throne room was in an uproar, all of them howling for Raegan to stop.

The Druid looked to Raegan with unfiltered hate in his eyes. “Do you, Raegan Righ’Fiodh’Faiche’Rugadh, accept the responsibility of ruler of Choilltean, protector of the people of Saoghal?”

There was a crack in the mask Raegan was wearing. It was the tiniest, most subtle of things, hardly detectable. I might have even been imagining it. But I saw, for a flash, a darkness across his face. And then those green eyes of his were on me, that same look on his face that I saw as he knelt next to his dead father. Just like then, I wanted to fall to my knees if only to soften the ground that he would collapse on.

“I do.”

It was hard to hear over the fury of the room, but the Druid placed a mimed crown upon Raegan’s head. “Rise then, King of Choilltean.”

His face was twitching as he forced that characteristic smirk to his face, the pinched fox-eyes and deceitful gleam behind them. “I am neither King of Choilltean nor King of Cluaineach,” he bellowed, earning him a room of silence once more. “From this day forward, one King shall sit upon both thrones, brought together as one kingdom. You are no longer pixies of Cluaineach, but pixies of Talamh, and I am your King.”

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The only reason we made it out of the castle within Cluaineach alive was because Gliocas and Urram, waiting for us at the front doors, had shifted into their true forms and were releasing damning chuffs throughout the whole kingdom. The outrage from the throne room had carried through every street, tucked into every crack and crevice of Cluaineach. By the time we made it to the two dragons, every pixie in the severed kingdom knew of what Raegan had done.

Urram and Gliocas tried their hardest to keep their daunting roars and spits of fire to a minimum where they stood in a wide stance and awaited us. Everyone who dared an attempt of storming the castle were met with the promised threat behind their eyes.

They all wanted Raegan dead.

That much was obvious as the four of us nearly slammed into the two dragons, a horde of pixies at our backs who were slinging all sorts of insults and vulgar terms at their new king. But Raegan didn’t care, he simply launched himself up onto Gliocas’ back and spared an extra second to drag Shea up along with him. Killian helped to launch me up onto Urram, where I offered him a hand and pulled him up alongside me.

The earth cried out as the two dragons pushed off of the ground, leaving permanent evidence of the day for all of eternity in the two craters they left behind.

~

No one spoke for the few hours it took to make it back to Choilltean.