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Chapter Thirty-Three
Ash
Somehow, even after killing the Brid and her King of Boars, I was terrified as I crossed the border into unseelie land just behind my old cottage.
I couldn’t bring myself to smile when I heard the hens clucking in their coop, even though I was happy to see they were still alive. I remembered ordering Lonan to look after them when I’d snuck to the cottage to take my stuff back. He’d promised he would, and he had.
They were still alive now, which meant surely he had only recently been trapped by the Carlin. Fear clenched my stomach. What was she doing to him? Why had she trapped him?
I freed them from their coop and yard with a pang, because once I rescued Lonan I was fairly sure we wouldn’t be able to come back here. The thought filled me with sadness. Now that I remembered him, all the disjointed memories of me laughing and smiling in the cottage made sense.
He’d been the one to make me happy here.
The chickens didn’t even leave the yard at first, pecking around in the dirt for feed, but hopefully they would when they ran out of food. I didn’t have time to wait and see, creeping round the back of the cottage—past the little shelter I’d made to sit out in the snow with Lonan as a wolf—and past my herb garden, which still had the muslin cloth draped over it to protect my plants from the frost.
I couldn’t stop myself from pulling it off to let them get the sun. The air wasn’t quite warm yet, but the threat of frost was gone. We were in the Mild Months now.
I left it in a heap beside the fence and straightened up, forcing myself to walk forward. It was still completely deserted here. No unseelie had ever come anywhere near my cottage—except Caom, and Lonan. And Balor that one time he came to ask if I had seen his brother.
My lip curled in disgust at the thought of him. Had he watched us? He’d seemed to know a lot that night in the throne room, and I knew deep in my gut that Lonan hadn’t told him. Lonan wouldn’t have told him anything.
Guilt churned as I remembered how easily I had believed them all. How quickly I had refused to believe Lonan when he’d come and desperately tried to explain. I understood why he’d kept his mask in place in that throne room. It would have been too dangerous for any of them to realise the truth. And he hadn’t been able to stop it, anyway. His mother had controlled him completely.
I remembered our tense walk back from the Carlin’s palace after that awful dinner. He’d been trying to tell me then, in the only ways he could. Trying to make me realise that shedding my mortal skin would have let me escape.
‘I am my mother’s son,’ he’d scraped out when I’d asked him why he couldn’t just tell me outright. He’d meant that he was under her control. She’d never shown him how to find Ogma, as fae parents were supposed to.
A blast of icy air snapped me out of my thoughts, making me stiffen. I could see the palace from here. And I could see the tiny figure standing at the top of its huge steps, wearing a long white dress, with something small and black at her wrist.
The Carlin let out her shriek, the one that Lonan had told me about—the one that froze all nearby Folk’s feet to the ground.
But it didn’t work on me. I carried on walking, and my branch arm was already reaching for my bow before I spotted the guards who had been storming towards me, now frozen in place.
I could move even quicker now—shoot even faster. Not that I needed to. They were stuck, their eyes widening fearfully as I aimed at them. Their bodies sagged to the ground in sickening ways after I shot them, feet still glued to the ground.
I collected my arrows as I passed the dead guards, putting them back in my quiver. As I passed the village, I saw Folk frozen in place outside shops and in their seats outside the café and tavern. They all stared at me as I walked past. Caom was among them, his copper eyes wide with shock when he saw me.
The Carlin shrieked again, sounding even more furious this time. I was at the bottom of the steps now. I was close enough that I could see the blackbird chained to her wrist, his wings fluttering frantically as he tried to take flight but couldn’t.
I snarled in fury when the Carlin whirled round and his fragile body jerked hard to the side. She disappeared, but I could hear her heaving open the palace doors—because her guards were frozen, unable to do it for her. My mouth almost quirked into a smile. Her rage was making her careless.
The guards stared at me with wide silver eyes as I reached the top of the steps and shot them both. I shoved the door shut behind me so I’d be able to hear if any more guards appeared once they could eventually move. Not that I thought she had many left.
The door to the throne room was slightly ajar. The Carlin had vanished, but I knew she was in there. I could hear her hissing frantically to one of her sons about the shriek not working on me.
When I stepped into the throne room, my eyes automatically went to the arm nailed to the post behind her throne. My arm. My gorge rose, but I didn’t have time to look at it for long.
Balor snarled and flew towards me with the same long silver blade he’d used to cut off the arm now hanging in his mother’s palace. I nocked an arrow, but I didn’t rush. I aimed carefully.
He choked when the arrow drove through the lacing on his leather trousers, directly between his legs. His sword clattered to the floor as he stumbled back and fell, pale hands fluttering uselessly over the arrow protruding from his groin.
The Carlin was frozen as she stared at her eldest son whimpering on the ground with an arrow in his dick. Bres and Cethlen were still in their thrones, their fingers clenching the armrests tight. Cethlen’s hellhound sat at his feet, panting cheerfully.
“What are you here to do?” the Carlin managed to get out, trying to hide the unsteady edge to her voice. “You think you can kill me, boy?No onecan kill me. Not even your rotting bitch of a mother.”
“I’m here for Lonan,” I said calmly, keeping another arrow ready in my bow. Balor was still whimpering in pain, weakly dragging himself back away from me, leaving a trail of dark blood smeared over the white stone floor.
The Carlin went still. Then a sharp grin stretched her pale mouth.
