Page 73 of Where Broken Wings Fly

King Nevan lifted a hand to Raegan. “Continue, Prince.”

Raegan dipped his chin momentarily before strengthening his jaw. “We gather a host, a host from every kingdom, and we end this fight once and for all.”

“Forgive me, Prince Raegan, but how? They are scattered amongst the humans, tucked away into the lands and as difficult to locate as seeds of a dandelion,” Diarmuid said.

“Shea, Killian?” Raegan lifted a brow to two of his ceadan, who nodded and rose to their feet without a word. They strode out of the room, returning only moments later with a body between them.

A pixie, wings cut to nubs and ears burned off of their skull.

A Rachainn, in the flesh, in brambled chains between Killian and Shea.

“I think you’ll find, Regent King, that the Rachainn have found themselves a kingdom of their own to rule,” Raegan said as he dropped back down into his seat, petty amusement in his eyes as he watched the monarchs gawk at the Rachainn before us all.

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“I don’t understand,” I shot to Niamh in the quietest voice I could manage.

“Yet again, you’re to thank—” she smiled “—they found him on the tanker that you sent them to.”

“He… He was responsible for the desolation of Uisge?”

“One of the ones responsible, yes.” She let her smile melt off as Killian and Shea dragged the pixie through the room, halting in the center of it and letting him collapse to the ground in a pile of limbs.

Of all the stories Killian had entertained me with today, he had noticeably left that one out.

Killian and Shea both took steps back and away from the Rachainn, revealing his state for all to see. In some ways, it looked like his body had been put through a shredding machine, only to be yanked out before it reached his chest and vital organs. In other ways, he looked as if it was by some divine miracle his heart beat at all.

I narrowed my eyes at Killian, then Shea. Which one of them was capable of such brutality?

But Raegan rose from his seat and strode over towards the pixie, and only then did their prisoner start to writhe against the ground, making all sorts of incoherent groans and cries.

“I’ve been having a chat with our friend here,” Raegan said smoothly as he dropped into a crouch beside the Rachainn, even going so far as to push some of the choppy lengths of pink from the pixies face so we all could see the artwork that had been carved into his face. “He’s told me some interesting things, haven’t you Eoghan?”

The Rachainn — Eoghan — flinched at the sound of his name. It was getting harder to tell whether his lack of speech was voluntary, or if he genuinely could not speak anymore.

I wasn’t the only person who thought the whole thing was slightly morbid. Rory was noticeably pale from where he sat down the table, his eyes aimed at anything but the prisoner.

If the monarchs weren’t listening to Raegan before, they sure were now. They watched him with a predatory unease, or maybe it was more like the stare of prey, the uncertain blinking and refusing to look away from him out of fear of the repercussions.

“What is this?” King Ronan finally declared.

“This, Father, is the result of all of the kingdom's blissful ignorance towards the Rachainn. This is the son of the one they call King amongst the Rachainn. Isn’t that right, Eoghan?”

It seemed a pity to keep Eoghan alive. He continued to whine behind Raegan, his eyes blinking in and out of focus as his chest heaved air to his lungs.

“That is not possible,” Queen Tonn added, earning her a wrathful glare from Raegan.

“Possible and current, Queen Tonn. Why Eoghan, why don’t you tell them where your vermin friends are at this moment?”

Eoghan said nothing.

Raegan shook his head. “The full force of the Rachainn gather, in their entirety, on the outskirts of Cluaineach where they work to perfect their next attack.”

The Kings and Queens at the table burst out in low whispers, cast down the length of the table to advisors or guards or partners, whomever would listen.

But Raegan wasn’t done. He held a hand up to the room, silencing them all in the smallest of movements.