by Jocelyn Fox
“Titania’s defenses,” I said to Gray as I rode back to the gathered company, ignoring the slightly awe-struck looks of the younger Sidhe.
Gray raised one eyebrow. “I could have told you that they are strong, and do not take kindly to prodding.”
A little sound of amusement escaped me, not quite a laugh. “Forewarning would have been nice. But now I have a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”
If Gray or anyone else heard the lie in my voice, they didn’t say anything…which I appreciated, because truthfully, I had absolutely no idea how I was going to breach Titania’s defenses. If that tiny spark of my taebramh had been multiplied into a roaring fireball and shot back, I didn’t even want to think about what would happen if I tried to break through using the Sword’s power. It was ingenious, really, a mirror-like enchantment that reflected back the force thrown at it, but multiplied.
I studied the distant glimmer of Brightvale’s spires. As much as I wanted to be able to solve the puzzle myself, I couldn’t afford to put up a façade just for my pride’s sake. As I thought, turning the problem over in my mind, Gray spoke.
“The Sentry Stones lie just halfway across the plain. We can reach them before nightfall, if we ride now.”
“The Stones offer protection?” I asked absently, still thinking about Titania’s defenses.
“They’re weaker now than they were, I think, but still strong enough to warn us of any Dark creature,” Tristan answered. “They were placed by Titania after…” He stopped himself, glanced at Finnead, and amended, “Long ago. To protect, yes, but to warn, mostly.”
“All right then. We’ll make camp for the night past the Sentry Stones. How far is it to the Hall of the Outer Guard from there?”
“Another day’s ride,” said Tristan.
“Then we’ll reach the Hall tomorrow evening, make camp there, and approach Brightvale the following morning.” I touched my heels to Nehalim’s sides. He eased into a trot. Tristan and Merrick gave their mounts their heads and galloped to the front of the forming column, kicking up a cloud of dust as they sped through the patch of bare earth and ash where Gwyneth’s pendant had met Titania’s fireball.
Luca fell in beside me once again with the ease of a well-trained bodyguard. I wondered if that was what he thought he was to me, a bodyguard; he and Vell both had adopted the air of guard and defender. On one hand it reassured me, knowing that they saw it as their duty to look after my safety. In Faeortalam, especially lately, I’d learned the hard way that enemies didn’t always announce themselves before an attack. But on the other hand, I didn’t want the ulfdrengr to be just my bodyguards.
Once the company had settled into movement, I looked over at Luca. The last of the day’s sunlight glinted on his golden head. “How’s your side?” I asked.
He turned his head at the sound of my voice and a strange little thrill ran through me as his ice-blue eyes met mine. A wry smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Iron doesn’t hurt us much.”
“I’d imagine it’s still pretty painful, to be shot,” I retorted, raising one eyebrow.
“Better I suffer a bit of pain than one of your Sidhe allies die from iron poisoning,” he said enigmatically.
I frowned. “What’s that mean?” A suspicion wriggled in the back of my mind but I couldn’t quite drag it into the light of conscious thought. Then I remembered Gray’s comment: He took a bullet for the Vaelanbrigh,you know.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Your brother is an impressive fighter.”
“Way to change the subject.” But I felt an answering smile on my lips and I decided not to press further about Luca’s self-sacrifice. “Yeah, he taught me how to fight—boxing, mostly—before I went to school.” I shrugged. “But boxing doesn’t count for much in Faeortalam.”
“Fistfighting, yes?” Recognition lit Luca’s eyes. “We teach our pups to spar. A bit of a different style, but you must know how to fight without a weapon, too.”
I nodded. “It has its value.” We rode in companionable silence for a moment. “How did Liam…how’d he seem, to you?”
“He looked well. Battle-worn, but in the way of a warrior. His men respect him greatly.”
I nodded. “I’d expect as much.” My eyes sought out the ivory spires of Brightvale again. “You know, Luca…especially now, as all this is growing…” I motioned with my hands to include the riders before us and the long column stretching behind us. “It’s happening very quickly. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. But I need…I don’t need bodyguards. That’s not what I want from you and Vell. I need friends. Friends who are willing to talk to me honestly, not get wrapped up in all the politics and grasping at power…” A tendril of panic wrapped around my spine at the overwhelming thought of navigating the responsibilities of leading an entire army. That was what was next…and I both hoped for it and dreaded it at the same time.
Luca reached out and took my hand from where I twisted one of the feathers in Nehalim’s mane. He turned my hand over and pressed his palm down onto mine. I felt the ridges of the scars from where the dagger had been bound to his flesh, and the rough callouses of a man who’d handled weapons his entire life.
“Tess,” he said, drawing my gaze up to meet his eyes. “You freed me. You could have easily killed me—and I believed that was best at the time.” A shadow passed over his face, just for an instant. “But now, I’m glad you didn’t kill me. I am here, and I will be whatever it is you need me to be.” Something entered his expression that made my breath hitch. “You ask me to be your friend, and I will be your friend.” He guided his mount closer to mine with just his knees. It was all I could do to keep my seat on Nehalim’s back as his large hands gently pushed up the fabric of my shirt at my wrist, and he raised my hand to his mouth, lips pressing against the tender skin over my veins. A flash of warmth made me gasp as he tasted my pulse. My heart tripped double-time in my chest.
“It is your decision,” he said to me softly, the implication clearer than his spoken words. He would be my friend, as I asked, but he was willing to be more. I tried to still my quivering insides, chiding myself mentally. You’d think I had no experience.
Be honest, the devilish voice in my head whispered. Everyone before…they were all boys. Now, you’re dealing with men.
Luca released my wrist and my fingers drifted back to the feathers in Nehalim’s mane. I gathered myself enough to give him what I thought was an unimpressed look, eyebrows raised slightly, as if to say, That’s all, really?
He caught my meaning and grinned. “I can hear your heartbeat, Tess.” He motioned to one of his ears, half-hidden beneath the tousled waves of his hair.
“Damn wolf senses,” I muttered. But I had to smile and shake my head. “Friends,” I told him.
“Friends,” he agreed with a little nod.
My lips added the words before I could properly vet them. “For now.”
That made Luca grin again, and the Caedbranr thrummed its power across my ribs as we rode on toward Brightvale. I didn’t know whether it was encouraging me, or warning me of the danger of caring too deeply for a warrior who would lay down his life for me if necessary. I already knew the tight anxiety of thinking about a loved one away at war, but at least Liam had all the innovation of technology to protect him and aid him. I couldn’t count on night vision or heat sensors to give us an edge over Malravenar. All we had was our own power. I shivered a little as I realized that with Malravenar reaching into the mortal world, Liam and his men wouldn’t be able to rely on their high-tech devices much longer.
As we rode, I hooked a finger into Gwyneth’s pendant and let my mind turn over the puzzle of Liam’s message to me, rolling the words over like coins, watching them flicker in the light of my thoughts. At one point, I thought perhaps I could solve the riddle by process of elimination, merely naming all the women in our company and considering their merits to be crowned. But that process lasted all of ten seconds as the flaw in my logic asserted itself: out of al
l the Seelie women, I only knew Gray, and who was to say that it wasn’t one of the other Seelie, or even the Unseelie back at Darkhill? I chewed at my lip thoughtfully.
“Meditating on your brother’s words?” Luca’s voice broke into my reverie.
“How did you know?”
“You’ve been silent for a long while. And that.” Luca motioned to Gwyneth’s pendant. “You loop a finger through your talisman when you are troubled.”
I almost moved my hand, now self-conscious, but instead I ran my thumb over the rubies. “Observant.”
“It’s the smallest things that count for the most sometimes.” Luca rubbed at his scarred hand. “If you’d like to talk to me…just to hear your thoughts out loud, that also helps sometimes.”
“That’s not a bad idea. You’re the only other one who knows what Liam said.”
Luca nodded. Kianryk appeared in the long grass, threaded nimbly between our mounts, and flowed away toward a copse of silvery trees on a knoll, nothing more than a ripple through the breeze-swayed field.
“He said to ‘crown her.’ Obviously that means it’s a woman. I think the Crown only makes queens anyway.” I started off with the points I’d already clarified in my own mind, laying them out like road-markers. Hopefully they’d lead us to the solution. “I was trying to narrow it down by thinking of all the women in the company, but then I thought…why would it have to be someone travelling with us? I don’t even know every woman here, much less all the ones at Darkhill and Brightvale.” I shook my head. That was more of a roadblock than a waypoint on the path to solving the puzzle.
“But your brother’s words mentioned blood,” said Luca.
“Exactly. That’s the key. It has to be. But I don’t really know what the right blood means. Does it mean a relative of Titania or Mab? Is that why Malravenar killed Mab’s sister, all those years ago?” A sickening revelation dropped into my mind with a sensation like bones breaking. I felt dizzy. “Blood. That’s why he killed the Unseelie princess.” I followed the new path, gathering my thoughts, shepherding them by force of will. “Malravenar….he was experimenting. He tried to make a weapon to shear the veil with the blood of Mab’s sister. He thought that being related to the Queen was enough.” I frowned. “Or maybe it was. Maybe that’s how he made the weapon that made the tear you found.” I made a sound of frustration. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter.”
A frown the echo of my own creased Luca’s fair brow. “The enemy possesses at least one weapon strong enough to cut through to the mortal world. But perhaps the blood of the princess wasn’t strong enough to open the Great Gate. Or close it.” He gave a slight shrug, as if to say it didn’t matter much which avenue Malravenar preferred.
My sound of frustration morphed into a growl. “I don’t understand, Luca. I just don’t. Why? What made this…this thing that we’re fighting?”
At my question, Luca’s eyes went distant. A long moment stretched by before he spoke. “You know some of the things I have seen, Tess. The evils dealt by this monster. In the end, it doesn’t matter why.” A deadly rage entered his eyes, so deep that it manifested as absolute calm. I knew the look. It was the same look that Chael had worn, naked and exposed, when he faced the Evermage. It was a look that promised revenge. Then Luca’s mount shook his head and Nehalim gave an answering snort, and Luca blinked. He gave a shudder, one hand feinting to his side before he controlled it. When he looked at me again, his familiar half-smile turned up one side of his mouth. “Let’s not talk about the underpinnings of the Shadow, if you don’t mind. It makes me think of…” Another smaller shudder rippled through him. He visibly stilled himself. “…Things that have no bearing on solving this riddle.”
I nodded. “Fair enough.” I took a deep breath. “But maybe that’s easier said than done. It all circles back to blood. Let’s go with the idea that Mab’s sister was killed for her blood. Why wouldn’t it be strong enough?”
“Because she isn’t a queen,” said Luca. “And we have the instrument that makes queens.”
Luca’s words drew my attention to the weight in my belt-pouch, nestled against my upper thigh. “But the instrument that makes queens isn’t very useful if I don’t know who is to be made a queen.” I rubbed my eyes with the heel of one hand. “This is a circular argument. Until we figure out who has the blood that Liam saw in his vision, we won’t know who to crown.” I blew out a breath in frustration.
“Sometimes it’s best to let problems like this settle.” Unassuming suggestion colored Luca’s words—an offer of advice, rather than an edict.
As unwilling as I was to let the riddle go, I forced my thoughts to stop worrying at it, letting it fade into the shadows of my subconscious. “I’ll sleep on it,” I said by way of agreement.
We rode on into the deepening dusk, the gleaming coats of our white mounts scything through the growing darkness as we wended over the rolling hills. Brightvale faded into the velvet of the night sky, its bone-white spires lost among the distant stars. The moon was new, the night dark, but no riders conjured any taebramh-fueled glows to light our way.
“How much longer to the Sentry Stones?” I asked Gray in a quiet voice as she rode down the column. Her golden hair gleamed even in the darkness.
“A few hours at most,” she replied.
Luca suddenly drew his sword as Kianryk and Beryk leapt past us toward the rear of the column. A breath later, we heard the shouts and whinnies of mounts. I twisted on Nehalim’s back as someone sent a flare of taebramh into the sky, illuminating the plain bright as day.
With a chill I made out dozens of dark humanoid creatures moving through the long grass, surrounding the rear of the column.
“Skin-wraiths,” hissed Gray.
My hand reached for Nehalim’s reins but Luca already had them in his grip. He threw the reins forward, out of my reach, giving Nehalim his head as Gray said urgently, “Ride! The Sentry Stones should offer some protection!” Her faehal pranced in place, sensing her excitement. She grinned fiercely. “We shall see you at the Hall of the Outer Guard and we will bring the skulls of many enemies!” With that she said a Fae word to Nehalim, and he shot forward, forcing me to grab at his mane and crouch low on his back, plain blade still unsheathed.
Most of the column before us peeled back, riders wheeling their mounts and unsheathing blades as they raced to join the battle. Luca’s mount galloped beside me, laboring to keep pace with fleet Nehalim. I caught a flash of gold in the grass on my other side and when we leapt over a small stream, I glimpsed Kianryk, the great wolf bounding easily alongside the faehal. As our group condensed, I saw Tristan and Merrick still ahead, urging their mounts forward. I glanced over my shoulder and saw three riders behind us, but all I could discern in the darkness was two white-gold heads and one dark. Two Seelie and one Unseelie.
Beneath me, I felt Nehalim pull back, still galloping but now at a manageable pace for the other mounts. The three riders behind us closed the distance. Murtagh drew up on the side that had been guarded by Kianryk, the wolf ghosting into the night to range afield. We rode in a rough diamond with me in the center, two riders ahead, one on either side and two behind. Now and again bright flashes of taebramh-sparked fire lit the plain behind us, but I concentrated on keeping my seat, pushing down the frustration and fear I felt at being forced to flee the battle. The Caedbranr remained silent in its sheath.
We rode hard. After a time even Nehalim labored, sweat darkening his gleaming coat. Foam laced the flanks of the other faehal, but my guards pushed them on grimly. The sounds of battle faded behind us, replaced with the eerily calm sounds of night: wind whispering through the grasses, the crystalline chatter of clear brooks, small creatures stirring at the rise of the moon. We thundered across the plain. I felt the Sword stir, and strained my eyes. Ahead, I barely made out a pale stone rising like a white finger on the crest of a knoll. With effort, I slowed Nehalim to a canter, then as the other mounts followed suit, a trot. I didn’t have to point out the S
entry Stone to Tristan and Merrick. Without speaking, the six riders around me loosened the diamond formation into a rough circle. I nudged Nehalim and drew up beside Tristan.
“Is there any sort of password?” I asked, motioning to the white obelisk.
“Not for those of Titania’s Court,” he replied after a moment. “Normally the Stones are a living barrier, connected to the Queen. But since her…imprisonment…I cannot rightly say.” He looked very young as he added earnestly, “I don’t wish to speak falsely, Lady Bearer.”
“I know,” I said. With a glance back, I saw that the two other Seelie riders were Sage, and to my slight surprise, Calliea. She wore a glinting silver breastplate and twin short swords adorned her belt, along with what I thought was a silver whip. I raised my eyebrows. There was obviously more to the young Seelie than I’d anticipated.
We rode up to the Sentry Stone. It towered over us, twice the height of a man, its shadow spilling inky darkness over the side of the knoll. Again without speaking, we dismounted. Though a few of the faehal shuddered in relief, they stayed where they stood. I marveled at their loyalty.
Calliea and Sage took rearguard, facing back toward the plain. I couldn’t be sure but I thought I saw a darker stain of smoke roughening the night sky in the distance. I turned my attention back to the Sentry Stone. Tristan already stood atop the knoll, facing me. I called up a tiny spark of taebramh, wove it into a little glow-light and set it hovering over my shoulder. The runes carved into the face of the Stone shifted under the silvery illumination, rippling beneath the marble-like surface. I resisted the urge to touch it.
