Anna nodded. “I’d say that’s wise. The mages would likely try to kill them.”
“Yes,” he replied distantly, turning his attention back to the wall and the increasing shouts.
He could see Sage standing beside Maarav and Ealasaid. Sage lifted his arm, and the archers along the parapet readied their bows. The shouts of men could be heard just outside the wall. There was a brief moment of stillness, then the battle began. All Kai could do was wait with bated breath for the gates to fall.
Maarav tensed as Ealasaid raised her arms to the sky, raining lightning like he’d never seen down upon the soldiers below. Though many had already fallen, a group of men had reached the gates with a battering ram. More men shielded those hefting the ram with massive iron shields, deflecting magic and arrows alike.
Maarav stood ready to take an arrow for Ealasaid if need be, but the army was focused primarily on defending themselves while they worked on the gates. It was a sound plan, given they would be more difficult to target once they were amongst Ealasaid’s people within the burgh.
The men below shouted orders. The battering ram swung back, then propelled forward, striking the gates with such force that the wall trembled beneath their feet.
Sage lunged forward, extending his hands to spew flames onto the men battering the gate. A few screamed, but the shields deflected most of the attack.
“They’ll break through before long!” one of the archers shouted before loosing an arrow at the unprotected men further back.
Maarav scanned the massive army. The men might not have magic on their side, but they had the numbers, enough to possibly overwhelm the mages within the burgh.
“We should retreat to the estate,” he urged, watching Ealasaid as she rained more lighting down upon the men.
She lowered her arms. “We will do more good out here!” He only then noticed the silver wand slung through her belt on her hip, previously hidden beneath her cloak. He recognized it as the wand presented to her by the Ceàrdaman.
She spared a quick glance for him as the gates shook again, accompanied by a loud crack of the massive wooden bar within splintering. If the bar gave way, so would the other latches. An Fiach would be upon them soon.
Noticing his glance, she shouted over the noise, “I do not know what purpose it serves! But I can sense its magic. It might prove useful if the situation grows dire!”
Maarav thought the situation already was dire, but he kept his mouth shut, then flinched as the gates gave way. The men flooded into the burgh. Maarav set his bow aside and reached for his sword, then followed Ealasaid as she darted toward the stairs leading down into the chaos below.
Bedelia’s sword collided with the soldier’s. The attackers, with their red-crested uniforms, were easy to pick out from the mages and other fighters of the burgh. Their skill was also evident. She’d felled two men, but she was an adept swordswoman. The assassins were an easy match for the soldiers, but the other burghsfolk, those without magic . . . not so much.
Bedelia flinched as a woman screamed beside her, then focused on her opponent, parrying his next swipe before deftly slicing her sword across his belly. He fell with a sickening gurgle. She wiped a splatter of blood from her face, then moved on, finally in her element.
Magics coursed around her as she retreated from the broken gates, knowing she’d do more harm than good there. The mages needed a clear path to hit the men with their magics, keeping them outside the wall, though not entirely.
Something wet hit her cheek, cold instead of warm like blood. She stepped back into an alleyway where the fighting had not yet reached and peered up. Snow. Her fingers flexed around her sword. If Oighear attacked now . . .
They could not shrug off the possibility of Oighear waiting for An Fiach to weaken the burgh before she swept in to end them all. According to Ealasaid, she’d used this method before.
Bedelia took a steadying breath. Ealasaid had faced her once and survived. She’d do so again. For now, the focus had to be on defeating An Fiach.
With a final prayer, she darted back into battle, forcing away thoughts of the Aos Sí, unbelievably skilled warriors that had once bested both her and Iseult.
All she could do now was fight, and hope that Finn would come before it was too late.
“Snow!” Ealasaid gasped, pausing at the top of the stairs.
A moment later, she was thrown to the stones of the parapet. Her breath fled from her body painfully, panic coursing through her until she realized it was Maarav on top of her.
“We need to leave the wall,” he groaned. “They’ve focused their archers on the mages.”
She would have kissed him in gratitude if she could move, or breathe. If it weren’t for his lightning fast reflexes, she might have been skewered by an arrow whizzing by.
Before she had fully recovered, Maarav lifted her to her feet and rushed her down the stairs leading down into the burgh below.
“Clear a path!” Maarav hissed, “I’ll find you a better vantage point.”
Unable to reply, Ealasaid called her lightning, blasting aside the men who’d neared the base of the stairs to cut them off. The brilliant light illuminating snowflakes would have been beautiful if she wasn’t on the verge of terror.
The men she’d hit fell aside screaming. She fought back her tears. They were her enemy, but it still hurt her to maim them. Before she could look too closely at the destruction she’d caused, Maarav swept her aside, protecting her with his body as he half-shoved, half-carried her down the nearest alley. All she could do was allow herself to be pushed along. It was utter chaos with such a large battle occurring within the tight quarters of the burgh.
Once relatively safe in the alley, Maarav growled, “You must go back to the estate. If Oighear is coming, you need to be ready.”
The clang of steel and screams of the dying nearly drowned out his words. She’d thought she’d been ready for this battle, no longer naive to the ways of war, but every scream tore at her heart. She could not hide. Her chest ached with magic, ready to be released.
“No,” she hissed, pulling away from him to retreat further down the alley. “If we do not fight An Fiach now, we will stand no chance against the Aos Sí.”
An electric spark stung her hand as she retreated. She stopped and looked down, realizing she’d brushed against the wand fastened at her hip. She still didn’t know its purpose, or why the Travelers had given it to her, but she’d brought it along in case things grew desperate. As far as she was concerned, they were at that point.
“Ealasaid—” Maarav began.
Before he could finish, she turned and fled toward the back of one of the buildings yet shielding them from the battle. Skidding to halt, she looked both directions, then turned right and ran to a stack of empty crates piled high against a wall. Scanning the crates doubtfully, she gripped the edge of the nearest, which came up to her stomach, and began to pull herself up.
A hand gripped her arm.
She turned frantic eyes back toward Maarav.
He looked at her for several heartbeats, sighed, then put his hands around her waist and boosted her up onto the first crate. He climbed up behind her, then helped her finish her ascent. Soon they both stood on the rooftop, peering at the battle beyond.
“The gates,” Maarav gestured. “If you can stop them from coming through, we can overwhelm those already within.”
She nodded, then withdrew the wand from her belt. She felt cool air, not against her skin, but inside of her. She knew in that moment that she had caused that storm outside her window. Something about the wand amplified her power.
Focusing on the broken gates, she called to her magic. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was trying to do, she just knew she needed to stop the rest of the army from coming in. The sky grew dark, casting the errant snowflakes in shadow. Lightning shot down in front of the gates. The soldiers coming through screamed. Those nearest to the bolts were thrown aside, their blackened corpses unmoving as they landed.
She fought through tears, still focusing on the opening as the stones sparked from her magic. All at once, her lightning snapped into place, forming an animate grid across the opening.
Realizing what had happened, her mages cheered, then attacked the soldiers now trapped within while the rest of their regiment shouted outside the wall.
Ealasaid lowered the wand. Her hands trembled so violently that it was hard to keep hold of it. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to. If it weren’t for the rapidly increasing snowfall, she would have dropped it to the roof beneath her feet.
“Ealasaid,” Maarav said, his hands outstretched, but not quite touching her. “Are you well?”
She nodded, but it was as if she was seeing him through gauze. In that moment, they were not entirely within the same reality.
“Ealasaid!” another voice said from behind them.
She turned to see Kai climbing onto the roof, followed by Anna. Suddenly she snapped back into action. She glanced over her shoulder at the gates, wondering if her magic would now falter, but the lightning held true, keeping the additional men outside.
Reaching them, Kai looked Ealasaid up and down, his gaze shielded by his cowl. Shaking his head, he explained, “Finn is on her way.”
Ealasaid heaved a sigh of relief. Once Finn was here to help, she wouldn’t need to access the wand’s frightening magic. They could work together to protect the burgh. As for the prophecy . . . they could work that out later. For now, they just needed to survive Oighear’s attack.
“The Aos Sí!” someone shouted.
Ealasaid whipped her gaze toward the wall where her archers crouched behind the parapet. The shout had come from their direction, so one of them must have spotted the Aos Sí, though her vantage point was too low for her to see herself.
Maarav turned to Kai. “How will we know when Finn arrives?”
Ealasaid watched as Kai shook his head. “Perhaps one of the Pixies will find us. All I know is that she’s coming, and that Oighear has the Faie Queen’s shroud.”
She turned her gaze back to the snowflakes eddying around those still fighting. She didn’t know much about the shroud, except that Finn had labored greatly to obtain it, and that it was a powerful object. Perhaps it even rivaled the wand still grasped in her trembling hand.
The last time she’d faced Oighear the White, their power had been evenly matched. Now the odds had been tipped on both sides, and there was no saying with whom their favor might lay.
Àed stood alone in his daughter’s vacated room within the estate. No one had cared to involve him in battle preparations, and that was just how he liked it. He was far too old to care which way any war went. Ealasaid had become a strong woman in her own right. She no longer needed him, nor did Finn.
He stared at the floor-length mirror, sensing the residual magic on its surface. He knew his daughter’s gifts well. Just who had she been talking to through the reflective glass?
He thought of his long dead wife, and what she’d want him to do for their troubled girl. Truly, even now, he wasn’t sure what he should do. Save everyone from her, or try to save her from herself.
Of course, whatever he intended, he’d have to find her first. For now, he would wait. He knew Finn would come, as would Oighear, and so, Keiren would not be far behind.
He’d waited his whole life to save her, but after seeing the twisted woman she’d become . . . he was no longer sure what that meant.
Chapter Thirteen
Loinnir raced through the trees, just a blur of white amongst the green bows. Finn clung to her reins, leaning low over Loinnir’s neck with Keiren a warm weight at her back. Iseult raced his horse at their side, not yet fully recovered, but stubbornly refusing to remain behind.
Finn worried for him, but what could she do? Battle sounds rang out in the distance, and she feared they were already too late.
“Slow down!” Keiren called out. “We do not want to ride in blindly!”
Loinnir obeyed without Finn tugging the reins.
Iseult slowed his horse alongside Loinnir, then stopped. His keen eyes scanned the distance, though trees obscured their view of the burgh. “The battle is well underway,” he muttered.
“Head toward the road,” Keiren instructed, “but stay near enough the trees should we need to quickly conceal ourselves. If it looks like we cannot reach the gates, I know another way in.”
Finn nodded, meeting Iseult’s gaze as their mounts resumed a more leisurely pace. With reins yet in hand, she twisted the ring on her finger, hoping Keiren was right about its purpose.
As they reached the edge of the trees, Keiren hissed through her teeth.
Finn did not have to ask why. Snow had begun to coat the road leading toward the burgh. In the distance they could see the walls, and a massive army. Radiant light flickered where the gates should have been, keeping the men back, but they had begun tossing heavy hooks adorned with lengths of rope up toward the parapets. They would scale the walls, despite the arrows and magic raining down upon them in waves.
Finn tore her eyes away from the men, searching for the source of the snow.
“There,” Iseult pointed. “Aos Sí.”
Her eyes followed his outstretched finger toward where the Sand Road veered north. The snow was denser there, but through it she could see the unusual armor of the Aos Sí. Light glinted dully off artful curves like ocean waves.
“What do we do?” she muttered.
“We must face Oighear,” Keiren replied. “Let Ealasaid deal with An Fiach.”
Finn began to shake her head, wishing to help her friend more directly, then stopped, sealing her lips into a firm line. Keiren was right. Ealasaid seemed to be handling An Fiach. Oighear was the greater threat to them all.
“How will we find her amongst her soldiers?” she questioned.
“She will find us,” Keiren breathed. “She knows you’re here.”
Finn glanced over her shoulder to meet her gaze, but Keiren’s eyes were closed. She realized she was using her sight to seek out Oighear.
She faced forward, scanning the waiting Aos Sí. A massive white cat emerged ahead of them, with Oighear on its back. Her cloak of white feathers rippled in currents of snow. Though she was some distance away, Finn could feel it when Oighear’s eyes landed upon her. She spotted Òengus not far behind her, standing with the Aos Sí. She still could not imagine what had motivated him to help the Snow Queen, someone who held little love for mortals, but there he was.
Leaving her men and Òengus further behind, Oighear’s cat carried her toward Finn.
Finn steeled her gaze. Without looking back, she said to Keiren, “You must continue on foot. Go into the burgh and find Ealasaid. Tell her to remain behind her walls with her mages. I must face Oighear alone.”
“I will not argue,” Keiren replied, slipping down from Loinnir’s saddle with feline grace.
Finn watched her stalk off into the trees, then turned to Iseult. “Forgive me,” she said. She lifted her ring-clad hand, summoning the earth around him and his mount.
“Finn, no!” he growled. He tried to leap away as massive roots shot up around his airborne form, but they quickly ensnared him, pulling him back into the trees. Terrified, his horse sped off into the forest.
She willed the roots to encase him within the forest’s edge, keeping him unseen and safe.
“I must face her alone,” she muttered to the now empty space. Her heart ached that she might never see him again, but at least this way, he might survive. If she died, the roots would release him.
She urged Loinnir forward, out onto the Sand Road. Oighear’s cat made a direct line toward her. The Aos Sí remained immobile on the northern end of the Sand Road. Finn knew in her bones that Oighear had only brought an army in case she tried to hide. Sending Óengus to steal the shroud had been her invitation to this battle of queens. Because of this, she did not summon forth her Faie. This was not like facing the Cavari or An Fiach. This was personal. It would be
just she and Oighear.
They neared each other, both on their white mounts, far out of reach of the burgh.
When Oighear had nearly reached her, she climbed down from her cat’s back. A glittering tiara rested atop her white tresses, and underneath her feathered cloak was the Faie Queen’s shroud, tethered around her slender waist.
Finn dismounted Loinnir and moved forward bravely, gesturing for the unicorn to stay behind. She spun the ring on her finger, the metal slick with sweat from her palms. It would have to be enough.
“I’m surprised you would face me on your own, Finnur,” Oighear called out. “And here I came fully prepared for war.”
“I am no coward,” Finn replied evenly, though her insides trembled with fear.
“Not like the Cavari, then,” Oighear hissed. “It is a shame you must die.”
They both stopped within ten paces of each other. Finn felt diminished by Oighear’s height and flowing white regalia. She resisted the urge to dust her breeches. “I will not be afraid,” she muttered under her breath.
Though her muttering was not meant to be heard by Oighear, she replied, “We’ll see about that.” Her hand shot forth, sending a torrent of ice toward Finn.
The ice hit her, stinging her skin. Drawing on the ring, she summoned just enough magic to protect herself. This is how it must end, she thought. I will not be afraid.
Thinking of her daughter, she struggled through the current of ice until she stood directly in front of Oighear’s outstretched palm.
Oighear’s eyes widened as Finn’s nearness forced her to lower her arm, ceasing her ineffective magic. “What are you doing?” she hissed. “Fight me!”
“Finn!” a familiar voice called.
Finn cursed under her breath, turning to see Ealasaid running toward her from within the trees, Maarav, Kai, and Anna hot on her heels. Keiren must have fetched them. She was supposed to keep them safe within the burgh.
Not thinking, Finn used the distraction to launch herself at Oighear. Her fingers wrapped around the shroud at Oighear’s waist as she summoned every shred of power she had. The ring on her finger sang with earth magic.
The Oaken Throne Page 20
