Page 18 of Where Broken Wings Fly

Killian jumped up to his feet, pulling a sword up and over his back as he motioned for me to rise.

“Stay by me,” he grumbled as he palmed that sword a few times in his hand. I didn’t need to be told twice, I hugged his shadow like it was my shield and followed every step that he took.

The intruders that we encountered were skilled, but they were nothing in comparison to him. He twisted and sliced, twirled and plunged, ducked and punched. While their eyes reflected nothing but rabid wrath, Killian’s shone with power and intention. Every move he made was practiced and perfected, every drop of blood that he poured was planned and exact.

We sprinted down pathways, Killian rising to every challenge and carving at every intruder that he came across. They didn’t look so different from the pixies of Choilltean — all with wild, unkempt hair. All with vibrant, natural eyes. But the one thing that I did notice, that plagued my mind and wouldn’t relent, was the fact that not a single one of them had ears. Where their ears should have been were small holes, the flesh long since removed.

Killian made a turn down a road that I was too distracted to notice, leaving me gasping as I flicked my attention from pathway to pathway, trying to catch the sight of his matted, dark hair. But there were bodies everywhere, women and children screaming and running, men wielding whatever they could to defend their families whether it was sticks or stones, weapons or fists.

“Come! Come now!”

I thought that call had been made for me. I felt it tunnel into my being as if it was just me and him, as if a saviour had been placed somewhere to protect me. I spun around on my heel, trying to locate that voice, that bellow. But when I did finally see who it belonged to, I couldn’t help but to stare. The world slipped away from me as I watched the Prince of Choilltean, high upon a hill, with two blades in his hands as he beckoned villagers towards him.

He placed each body behind his own, a super-shield of pixie flesh that he dared the intruders to progress towards. I understood what Killian had meant, then, because Raegan existed with his weapons. They were extensions of himself, extra limbs that belonged to him and no one else as they arced across the starless sky.

Mounds of bodies, dead not alive, gathered at his feet as he stormed his way across his kingdom, carnage in his wake and rage in his eyes.

There was no explaining why, but I stumbled towards him. My legs were moving before my mind had time to catch up, and all I knew was that I had to get to Raegan.

Another body collided with mine, nearly sending me to the ground if it wasn’t for two different arms that wrapped around me and yanked me upright. Killian finished a low blow to my attackers knees, catching me in the opposite hand and tugging me against his body.

“I told you to stay close,” he huffed as he dragged us away from the heat of the fight, screams of terror ringing in my ears.

“I… I got lost.”

His face, splattered in blood that mixed with long beads of sweat, tried to soften. “Come on, let’s get you back to the castle.”

I didn’t argue. I let Killian tighten his grip around my waist, nearly dragging me the whole way back as I let the horror of the attack flash over my eyes, over and over again, until we were back at the castle.

8

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“I demand to know what happened, at once!” the King of Choilltean roared. I was glad for Killian’s body in front of me, acting as a broad shield against the wrath of the King as he paced furiously back and forth. I only got a quick glimpse of him as I was shuttled into the throne room, enough for me to notice how little his features matched his son’s.

“We warned you of this,” a pixie standing off to the side muttered, immediately earning the fury of the King as he whirled on his heel to him.

“Do not test me now, Fergus. Pixie blood flows freely upon my lands and I just may feel inclined to add to it.”

The room fell deathly silent.

“Someone, tell me what happened. And if I hear one more mention of the Rachainn and your conspiracies, the tongue on which the tale is told will be forfeited.”

Everyone gulped. Me included.

“If I may, Father?” Raegan stepped forward from where he had been lingering in the shadows. He was more undone than Killian was; his muddy hair splattered across his face where it had cast itself in rampant blood, the same patterns that were splashed all over his chest. Scarlet still dripped from the tips of his fingers as he worked them against his shirt in an attempt to dry them.

“What is it?” the King hissed in response, hardly offering Raegan a shred of attention.

“I have a witness to the attack.”

“If it is one of your ceadan, you can save it–”

“It’s not.” I wasn’t enjoying how sly Raegan’s face was becoming as his features elongated and pinched. “A completely unbiased witness.”

King Ronan was intrigued enough to wave a hand in his son’s direction.

To my horror, it was me that Raegan motioned to draw closer. I shot a look up at my side to Killian, who looked just as tense at the whole ordeal as I did. With a subtle dip of his chin, he freed me from the binding of his safety and stepped away from me.