Page 56 of Keldori By Daybreak

13. Subalpine Ecology

Orange light flickered in Ciarán’s hands, but when he lurched forward to attack, he collapsed. I did my best to catch him, but my own injuries spasmed, and we fell to the pebbles together.

“You nearly got me killed!” Ciarán seethed up at Orla. I wasn’t sure how much of the anger that roiled in my head was overflowing from Ciarán’s end of our bond and how much of it was my own.

Una growled overhead, and a bit of drool pooled on my shoulder. I looked up to see the underside of her chin as she stood over us.

“I didn’t mean—I only—” Orla gawked down at us, pale and too stricken to come up with a good enough excuse. “Is that an onchú?”

Fana and Iseult climbed into view, supporting Tiernan between them. The tiniest bit of relief needled its way through my ire. We’d all made it out. We were okay for now. Battered and bruised, but alive.

Alive despite Orla’s best efforts.

“I had Ferrin at knifepoint!” Ciarán yelled. “And you fired at me!”

“I know,” Orla whimpered.

“I almost died!” Ciarán pushed me off him but stayed on the ground. “Wren could’ve been devoured by the rotsbane!”

“He’s my uncle,” Orla said simply.

“I could’ve ended all of this!” he snarled. When Orla could only shake her head in response, he added, “You’re lucky you are a Sovereign and that we need you. Otherwise I’d leave you at the mercy of your uncle.”

“Watch it,” I snipped at him through our mental bond, and annoyed betrayal reverberated along the tether. Out loud to the others, I said, “We can’t stay here. We’re too close to the mountain and too low on Skal.”

“Orla says she knows somewhere nearby that Ferrin won’t go,” Fana offered, maneuvering Tiernan between her and Iseult as they navigated the rocky slope to meet us on the beach.

Despite the animosity still hanging over the group, Fana bore a massive grin as she clung to Tiernan’s arms. She’d missed him.

“I don’t think I used the word ‘nearby’. It’s almost two days away by foot, but there’s a Skal spring, and it’s protected.” Orla shuffled down the rock after them, refusing to meet my eye.

“Good.” Ciarán grunted, rolling onto his hands and knees in the pebbles. “If we’re fast, we can make it there in half that time.”

“Can you even walk?” Orla’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment as she asked the question.

“I’ll manage.” His tunic fell back over his wound as he stood, but I caught a final glimpse. My attempt at healing magick had managed to close the skin, but it was still mottled and puckered.

Iseult’s eyes widened at me as she and the others approached, faltering in her stride.

“Who’s the girl?” Tiernan grunted.

I screwed my face up at him. “You don’t recognize me?”

He cocked his head, then recoiled so hard that he dragged Iseult backwards with him.

“Wren?” His bruised jaw dropped open in disbelief. “This is you? The real you?”

I rubbed a self-conscious hand over the unruly undercut at the nape of my neck.

“Surprise,” I mumbled. “My real hair isn’t blue. Sorry to ruin the illusion.”

“But how are you here?” Iseult demanded.

“Wren is the one who opened the Rift!” Fana set her pack down to pull Jonquil from the drawstring top.

Tiernan and Iseult took a tandem step back, and Iseult’s hand hovered ahead of her, as if she were considering procuring a weapon in defense.

“You released the Frozen God?” she hissed.