by Alicia Wolfe
At first I wasn’t sure what he wanted, but then he knelt and cupped his hands. There was no time to argue. I put my foot in his cupped hands and vaulted onto the back of the Veras. It was firm and warm under me. Davril swung himself on behind me. He reached his strong arms around either side of me, grasping the gossamer white mane with surprisingly gentle hands. Guiding it with his touch and the feel of his feet, never using them harshly, he steered the horse in the opposite direction of the wraiths and said, “Go!”
It went. I hadn’t been prepared for how fast it could go, and I might have been left in the dust behind its galloping hooves if Davril hadn’t been right behind me. But he was, and he held me tight.
Shrieks of the wraiths reached my ears, chilling my blood, and more fearful neighing came from the Veras in the clearing. I heard their hooves as they took off, the wraiths scattering them as they drove toward us.
We reentered the treeline and raced through the thick trunks. The horse nimbly leapt creeping roots and swerved around sinister boles. Low limbs tried to take off our heads, but Davril and I ducked and they passed just above us. Some of the leaves tangled in my hair. We were that close.
Davril turned astride the horse and shouted ancient Fae words, and I heard a great blast and knew he’d used some of his magic on the fiends. They howled in pain and slowed for a few moments, to judge from their sounds, but then came on. Davril swore and turned back around, putting his arms once more around me.
At last we emerged onto a green level plain that ran onward toward blue sky. I wasn’t sure what this meant at first, but then we grew near and nearer that blue openness, and I felt my belly churn.
“Watch out!” I said.
Davril pulled on the mane. “Halt!”
The Veras drew to a shuddering stop, its flanks heaving, its head tossing. We stood on the brink of Home Isle, overlooking empty sky. Below us cliffs plunged downward, then tapered in. Blue sky and clouds waited beyond, and far away hovered the other, smaller islands that comprised the Floating Gardens. They were far away, though, and it would take a zeppelin or dirigible to reach them—the Outer Isles. If only we had Lady Kay or Chromecat to rescue us, I thought. But they were back at the Palace. It was as if we stood on the edge of the Earth back when people thought it was flat.
Davril turned the horse about.
Wraiths erupted from the treeline, coming straight for us.
This is it, I thought. We were about to meet our doom here among the clouds. Well, at least I would die with Davril’s arms about me and the sun shining overhead.
But then, very rudely I thought, he swung down from the horse and alit on the ground, brandishing his sword.
“What are you doing?” I cried.
He looked at me, and a thousand things were said in his eyes. He didn’t say any of them, though, only: “Go!”
He swatted the rump of the horse. Loyal creature, it didn’t move, even with the wraths charging straight at us across the open ground.
“Don’t do this,” I said. Tears burned my eyes.
“Jade,” he said softly. “This is farewell. I’m sorry this is how it had to end.” He swatted the horse’s backside again and shouted, even louder, “Go!”
The horse neighed loudly, reared on its hind legs, then took off toward the forest, going wide around the wraiths, with me clinging to its back. I grabbed a fistful of mane with one hand and turned back around to see Davril plant his feet and raise his sword. The wraiths were almost on him. Beyond him dropped the cliffs plunging into oblivion, and the blue sky and the floating islands bobbing further out.
I yanked on the mane and cried, “Stop! Stop!”
Slowly, the horse drew to a halt, its sides shuddering and its eyes rolling even more madly. I pulled its mane in the direction of Davril and put my heels to its flanks.
“Ra!” I said.
The horse may have been wild, or maybe not. Either way, it understood what I wanted, and, bless it, it obeyed. It shot toward where Davril stood. His eyes blazed as the wraiths reached him, and he swung his sword through one, ducking the sweeping talons of another. A third barreled at him, overreached, and flew out over the edge of the cliff into open sky. I dared to hope that it would plunge to its death, but it merely flew back through the air toward Davril, coming at his back.
“Behind you!” I shouted.
He wheeled about, slashed the creature through the head, then leapt over the slicing claws of another.
“Jade, what are you doing?” he demanded.
“What does it look like?”
I yanked out my dagger. Still holding the mane with one hand, I hacked through the phantasmal head of a wraith with the other. It shrieked and pulled away. I stabbed another. The horse reared again, lashing out with its hooves, and such was the creature’s magic that when it kicked a wraith in the chest the bastard was hurled backward.
“Get on!” I shouted to Davril.
“Jade, get away!”
“Damn you, I’m not leaving you!”
I hacked through another wraith. Another came at me from the side and Davril sliced through it. Every time we sliced them with our magic blades, they seemed to discorporate, but only for an instant, like smoke dispersed by a wind but then re-congealing.
Davril realized that I wasn’t kidding. I wasn’t going to leave him.
Swearing something Fae-ish under his breath, he jumped up behind me and wrapped one arm about me even as he stabbed at a wraith with the other.
“Ra!” I told the horse, giving it my heels and turning it in the direction I wanted it to go. It didn’t argue but neighed angrily at the wraiths and plunged ahead, scattering them. They shrieked and slashed at it, and one claw drew a line of blood from the horse’s flanks. I winced at the damage to the beautiful, brave animal.
We ran toward the treeline, then vanished into it, as the wraiths howled and gave chase.
“You’re mad!” Davril said. “You could have been killed!”
“Ha! You were going to your death!”
“Yes, to save you, you ungrateful woman!”
“And I went back to save you, you ungrateful man!”
“Damn you, Jade!”
“Damn you, Davril!”
We both seethed angrily as we pelted through the forest. Glancing backward, I could see the wraiths appearing and then disappearing amongst the trees. I still wasn’t sure if they could see us through the foliage or not.
“So what’s your plan?” Davril said.
I started to snap at him to ask him what his plan was, since he was the superior officer, but then I realized that I had one.
“The ring!” I said. “Greenleaf’s ring! Use it! Summon the green spiders! Maybe they can kill the wraiths!”
He grunted in appreciation at the thought, and I could feel him moving about as he pulled out the ring. Turning slightly, I saw him holding it up. Its emerald facets glinted in the flickering light from above.
“What are you waiting for?” I said over the pounding of the hooves (and my heart).
“I don’t know how to use this sort of magic,” he confessed. “Greenleaf is one of our greatest sorcerers. I’m powerful with innate Fae magic, but my training is martial, not sorcerous.”
Great, I thought.
“Well, there’s nothing like on the job training!” I said.
To my surprise, he gave a laugh. Once more, his blood was hot and his mood was lively when we were in greatest jeopardy. “Indeed,” was all he said.
His fist closed about the ring. His forearm, all I could see of him other than the hand, tensed. I could feel him communing with the ring, or the powers contained in it, or accessible by it. Whatever. He was trying to tap into it, to use it.
At last he thundered some ancient phrase in what I’ll call Old Fae-ish, and turned astride the horse to aim the ring backward. I risked a look over my shoulder to see what happened.
Small, many-legged green shapes materialized in the air. Becoming larger and more solid, they bounced o
n the ground, seemed to perceive the wraiths charging straight toward them, then gave awful little keening cries and pounced on the wraiths. The wraiths shrieked horribly and slashed at the green spiders with their claws, but their wicked talons didn’t seem to do much damage to the spiders from the Emerald Plane.
The spiders were smaller and fewer than the ones that had pursued us earlier, and I knew that was because of what Davril had said, about Greenleaf being a mighty sorcerer. I doubted they would last as long, either.
“It won’t take long for them to discorporate,” Davril said, as if reading my mind. “But it should be long enough for us to escape.” Then, shocking me completely, he kissed me on the side of the head. “Good thinking,” he said, his arms once more going around me. The ring had been put away.
I tried to say something, but my mind went blank. There with the horse rocking below me and Davril’s strong arms about me, the feel of his lips lingering against my scalp, my mind was wonderfully, delightfully numb. Gradually I became more aware and angled the horse back in the direction of the barracks.
When I could speak, I managed to say, “Good job …. with the spiders.”
Maybe he realized I was just trying to make conversation, or maybe he was distracted by other thoughts. I’d like to think he was distracted by having me in his arms, but it was probably more to do with logistics and royal imperatives. All he said was, “Yeah.”
Oh well, I would take what I could get. Maybe that sounds pathetic, but whatevs.
Even with us in dire peril, a killer on the loose, two murders, and a trio of unholy phantoms running around, I enjoyed the ride back to the barracks way more than I should have. At last, though, we arrived. The knights jumped up at our approach, then recognized us. We swung down from the horse, and Davril stroked the animal’s flank near its wound, whispering healing Fae words of magic. The animal calmed and I think probably began to heal immediately.
“Take good care of him,” Davril told the knights. “He’s a brave animal.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Take us to Commander Gleamstone.”
Two of them detached from the unit and escorted us to the Commander, who had taken over one of the office rooms and was receiving reports. The patrol knights giving him their account left when we showed up, and we closed the door after them.
Gleamstone studied our ragged appearance. “What’s going on?”
Davril launched into it, giving a very brief but detailed account, then said, “We must hurry. Even now the Coolwaters are joining Jereth’s side. I believe they’ll launch an attack on the Deepnights immediately.”
“Especially since one of them knows we saw them meet,” I threw in.
“How do you figure that?” Gleamstone said.
“Because, Commander, the wraiths attacked us near the site of the meet. Someone must have summoned those things. Must be controlling them. Right? So whoever that is sicced them on us. They know we saw Lady Coolwater and Jereth conspiring. So the prince will have to strike now, before we can gather our forces.”
“You’re assuming the one who summoned the wraiths is on Jereth’s side.”
That was a horrible thought, and it rocked me on my heels. “You think whoever it is could be working for the Queen?”
Gleamstone steepled his thick fingers below his sturdy chin. “There’s no way to know, and no reason to jump to conclusions. Remember that, Jade.”
I swallowed. “I will, sir.”
“Nonetheless, she’s right, Commander,” Davril said. “Whether the summoner of the wraiths is on our side or not, we have to assume that Jereth will move to strike immediately. If he can wipe out the Deepnights, that will be one less House to stand against him.”
“Yes, and if he can whip up the bloodlust of his followers to destroy someone they think deserves it, it won’t take much more to get them to assault someone else.”
“Like the Queen,” I said, realizing it.
Gleamstone nodded. “Exactly.”
“He’s using all this as an excuse to muster a force against the Queen,” Davril said. “It must be. He doesn’t care about the murders, particularly, any more than that they can help him with his agenda.”
“But I thought he wanted reunification,” I said. “Forgiveness.”
Davril shook his head. “We can find out later. Right now I recommend gathering the knights and forming a protective ring around the Deepnights’ bungalow.”
“Agreed,” said Gleamstone. “I’ll rouse the men.”
He was as good as his word, and in just a few minutes we were all mustered together on the lawn before the barracks, most of us still pulling on pieces of our armor. Davril and I helped each other, and I couldn’t help but imagine there was a new level of intimacy there. But was it just imagination? I wished I knew.
“Come!” Gleamstone said when we were all ready and he had given a quick outline of the stakes to the soldiers. “There may still be time to avert this disaster and save the Court.”
He led the way through the forest at a jog, and the rest of us followed in our little squadrons. Davril and I led one of the three units—well, really Davril did, and I was his lieutenant this time. My heart pounded, and I sweated under my armor. Damn, but I’d been doing a lot of sweating and running today. I needed a shower bad.
But all such thoughts retreated from my mind as we saw smoke rising from the clearing where the Deepnights’ bungalow was.
“Damn,” I said. “We were too late.”
The wraiths had delayed us, and war had come to the clouds.
Chapter Thirteen
Commander Gleamstone didn’t pause. In fact, he shouted to us to go faster, and we rushed out into the clearing to see flames licking at the sides of the stately two-story bungalow with its white walls and graceful trimming. Prince Jereth in his purple armor commanded his various companies, who had formed a ring around the bungalow. One line of his knights fired arrows at the windows of the bungalow. Some of the arrows were flaming.
Archers in the windows fired back. As I watched, one shaft struck a knight through the neck just above his gorget. The man gagged and listed over, dead.
Some of Jereth’s green knights that had ringed the bungalow gave a shout when we appeared, but Commander Gleamstone said, “Charge!” and we charged right into them.
It may sound weird, but even though I’d considered myself something of a knight for a few months now I never thought I’d be charging into battle in full armor surrounded by my fellow knights against another company of knights. This might only be a small skirmish by their standards, but the stakes were high, and it was as good as a real war to me.
I wore a sword now, not a dagger, and I ripped it loose from its sheath and parried the thrust of one of Jereth’s knights. Luckily the momentum was on my side, and I just barreled into him, knocking him over. We both sprawled on the bright green grass of the clearing. I was the first one up, and instead of stabbing him I kicked him with my steel boot in the side of the head, and he collapsed, unconscious.
Another knight in green armor rushed at me, sword raised over his head to chop me in two, and by the glints on his blade I knew it was magical and could probably slice me like butter. But then Davril appeared. He raised his own blazing weapon, intercepting the blow. He shoved the green knight back, then swung, taking off the man’s head at the shoulders. Blood spurted and the body toppled twitching to the grass.
“Thanks,” I said, resisting the thought of Eww.
He nodded and turned back to the fight. The rest was a lot of swinging and dodging and slicing. I wasn’t a very good swordswoman, and these Fae had been practicing for many years, but I was half-shifter and was an accomplished thief, so my speed and reflexes helped compensate. And then there was Davril, who would from time to time bail me out.
The fighting didn’t go on for very long, at least not that stage of it, although it seemed like forever to me. Literally one minute seemed like an hour.
But the Deepnights, holed
up in their bungalow, must have been preparing to lead a charge out, probably meaning to aim for the weakest point of Jereth’s cordon, or maybe they had been simply waiting for the Queen’s knights to arrive and save them. Either way, they rushed out through the side entrance, all in their armor, even the princes and princesses, and joined us.
All together, we battled Jereth’s companies, but it was a near thing. Without the Queen’s personal guard and the companies of knights from the other houses, we were vastly outnumbered. The Coolwaters had joined with Jereth, and they had caught the Deepnights by surprise, killing several of their knights before the members of their house could form a defense. With bodies lying on the sward all around and the bungalow flaming to one side, Commander Gleamstone said, “Fall back! Fall back to the Big House!”
Slashing with every step, we retreated down one of the paths, going backwards to better fight off the enemy. Many knights fell on either side, and I heard Jereth shouting commands to his group even as Gleamstone shouted commands to us, ordering us in ranks, having archers fire, having the various ranks switch so that we could have a breather after a few minutes of swinging our swords, etc.
Prince Jereth himself, drenched in blood, hacked and slashed from the forefront of his lines, rarely leaving the tip of the spear, as it was. I’d expected him to lead from the rear and let others die for his cause, by he was quite willing to charge into battle himself, and his bravery seemed to inspire confidence and respect in his troops. It made me remember that his ultimate goal was to save his people in the Fae Lands, not simply depose the Queen and rule from her throne. He wasn’t like Nevos or Angela. He wanted what he thought was the right thing, even if he was wrong, and even if the methods he used were sometimes despicable.
Commander Gleamstone sent a runner to the Big House, and shortly horns blew from the huge bungalow Queen Calista was residing in. When at last we spilled out into the lawn of said bungalow, still going backward, the knights of the Queen had already formed up and joined us in fighting Jereth’s host, and the companies of the other houses were starting to emerge, the Feathermuses and the Stormguards, some of their knights still shoving on helmets or putting on gauntlets. Some only wore pieces of armor or none at all. The members of House Stormguard hailed Davril when they saw him and joined the fighting nearby.
