by LJ Rivers
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out today,” I said.
“Not your fault. I knew the chances of peace between your father and me were always slim. At least I know I tried.”
“You did your best.”
“Did I? What will my people remember of me? That I tried? What will my legacy be, young princess, when my story is all but blood and failures?”
“That’s not true,” Charlie cut in. “Your story is so much more than that.”
I looked in the direction of Morgana’s line of sight, to the faint outline of the mountain range to the north. “What do you want the people to remember about you, then?”
She angled her head towards me.
“You saw Bellion’s slave today, and you said nothing, though I’m sure you felt the same resentment I did. You didn’t bargain for his life or any of the others already in Auberon’s grasp. What do you think your—our—people would say if you saved their families from the mines?” I took a deep breath. “I know it’s been on your mind. I’m not saying you did anything wrong when you sent the Magicals through the portal, but to people like the Dalu, you abandoned them and their families. Don’t abandon those in your power to save.”
Charlie and Brendan stood silently by my side while the queen and I stared at the mountain range in the distance.
“You know, Princess, you will make a fine queen one day. I’m proud of the woman you are, and I am thankful I got to know you. You are not wrong, it’s been on my mind for a long time. When Halwyn asked me to free his son, I still had hopes that we might come to an agreement with your father. Today, that hope evaporated.” She inhaled sharply. “And we’re so close to the mines here. I couldn’t bring back those I sent to your world, but perhaps I can bring back some of those taken into slavery.”
“A rescue mission?” Charlie asked, unsuccessfully masking her eagerness.
Morgana smiled wryly. “Let us take the night to clear our minds, then reconvene in the morning to discuss how we’re going to free the slaves of Dewmas.”
Chapter Fourteen
It was the first full moon I had seen since arriving in this magical realm, as it had been raining whatever passed as cats and dogs in Avalon during the last one. The Gwyn Fanonians called it the hunter’s moon. I had asked Naheena before the wedding ceremony why it was called that, and she said it was because the bright light was a blessing and a curse for any nocturnal hunter.
“Our prey tends to feed more during the nights around a hunter’s moon, so that means more food for us predators, too.” Her fangs had protruded slightly from the corners of her mouth as she told me this, as if the mere thought of all the meat made them grow. “The problem is the added light it brings. Or used to bring, at least. It makes it harder for us to sneak up on them. It is all part of the balance of nature. When the Sorcerers blew out the light, they brought unbalance. Nature, however, always finds a way to make things right. Given time, She will adjust to the lack of light, and make the soil fertile again.”
As I lay on my back by the edge of the village on top of a bearskin, cuddled close to Brendan, I watched the dark grey outline of the full moon—the hunter’s moon—and remembered the words of William the Phoenix: “To make room for new growth, what once was must wither away.” It was how nature intended it to be, the old man had said. The old man who had withered away to make room for the growth of little Willow, the six-month-old reincarnation of the Phoenix. I missed her eyes and how her tiny hand used to grip my finger. Her touch sometimes brought stories, tapestries of memories from countless lives the Phoenix had led.
And in one of the stories, Willow had shown me Bellion’s slave when he was but a small boy, watching his parents burn.
“It’s going to be dangerous,” I whispered. “Are you scared?”
“Yes.” Brendan pulled me closer. “Not for myself, but for you. Which I guess is kinda silly, seeing as you’re much more likely to survive this mission.”
“Don’t say that.” He did have a point. Which was why we had spent the last quarter of an hour arguing about him staying behind. I knew he would never agree to it, but I had to try. “We’ll protect each other.”
“I don’t think you should go,” he said.
“What?”
“No, hear me out.” He kept his voice low so as to not disturb anyone from their sleep. “It’s like the royal family back home. They never travel on the same plane, for instance. If it crashes, there’s no one to take the crown.”
“Two heirs can’t travel together,” I corrected. But I knew what he was getting at.
“If this mission goes south, like south of the South Pole south, I mean, Auberon can just stroll into the castle down in Avalen and pop his arse on the throne.”
“We’re not going to fail.” I tried to sound confident. I wasn’t.
Tears welled in my eyes as I quelled another yawn. Brendan winked at me from his position in front of his Junipers and nodded in sympathy. After all, he had stayed up just as long as I. We had finally snuck inside the hut and into bed after failing to identify a single constellation of stars. We may have got three hours of sleep before Charlie said breakfast was ready, but my guess was closer to two and a half.
We had all gathered at the edge of the village where we wouldn’t be in the way of the pack. Taryn, the three primes, Jen, plus Brendan, as well as ten other Junipers. Jack and Erica, however, were with the Gwyntali pack, hunting by the sound of eerie silence in the forest. Morgana stood in the center of the semi-circle the rest of us had formed and had drawn the outline of a map in the dirt using a Juniper’s dagger. She pointed at a zigzag pattern just right of a line I figured was the western border of Mynydd Dewin.
“These are the Wizard Mountains, or Mynydd Dewin as they are called in the ancient tongue.”
Charlie leaned close and nudged me. “The ancient tongue is called Wallish,” she whispered. “Get it? Welsh.”
I raised my eyebrows, genuinely surprised at the revelation. “Really?” I mouthed.
“Honest word.”
“—the backs of our griffins when we return, depending on the condition of the slaves,” Morgana said.
“And how many of them we can free,” Pullhelli added.
Morgana patted him on his arm. “There is no we in this, my dear friend. Not one including you, that is. I need you here, where you are safe and can make whatever decisions necessary if we should fail.”
The old Sorcerer, to whom I was suddenly related, twisted his mouth and shook his head. “As you wish.”
“This is madness.” Taryn was pacing the area behind Morgana. “I wish you would reconsider. Send for more soldiers and griffins, and let me take the reins on this mission. A queen should not—”
“We don’t have time, Taryn. And neither do the enslaved.” She reached out, and he accepted her hands in his. His shoulders fell as he met her gaze.
“If I’m to help the slaves, I cannot protect you. Will you not reconsider?”
“The people need to see that even a queen will risk everything to fight for them. We’re here now, and I don’t want those poor slaves to spend one moment longer than necessary in that portal to the Nethers. I will free them tonight, is that clear?”
“As the skies before the Fall of Light, My Queen.” Taryn inclined his head.
“Good.” Letting go of Taryn’s hands, she turned back to the rest of us. “Let’s focus on the task at hand for the moment. We will land here.” She pointed at a spot close to the Wizard Mountains. “My eagle scouts should return shortly, hopefully with information about the guards and soldiers at the mines. I don’t want to take this lightly, but I do think we have the element of surprise to our advantage.”
She drew a line towards the mountains. “Surprise or not, we have to strike hard and fast. Aim to kill, no matter what weapon is at your disposal. Fae should be prepared to shield against fire, as there’s likely a majority of Sorcerers guarding the complex. Archers will circle the area on griffin backs.” She stepped o
ver to the Junipers and stopped in front of a Fae, a girl no more than two or three years my senior. “I trust you to aim true and make every shot lethal. Can you promise me that, Cynthia of Cavalas?”
The Fae straightened her back and gave the bowstring across her chest a slight tug. “I haven’t missed my targets in years, Highness. I see no reason to start today.”
“Excellent.” Morgana returned to the map on the ground. “We will have to get as many slaves as possible on the backs of our griffins. Most will have to use their feet, but I’m sure the Changelings will be just as happy to finally run free. Hondo can easily carry at least five, and when Amalli and the others give it their best, they will be able to lift four or five, too. We only need to get ten or fifteen pancemiles into Ygrenya Territory by air. That should give the Goblins enough of a head start to reach Awarnach on foot.”
“Excuse me, Your Highness?” Charlie raised her hand. “I have something that might be useful.”
Morgana smiled as warmly as she always did when she addressed Charlie. “Do tell, Lady Carolina. By the Light, we need all the help we can get.”
Charlie retrieved a small vial from one of the many pouches in her belt. “It’s something we have worked on, your erudites and I.”
She moved past Morgana and stopped fifteen yards away from the rest of us. She uncorked the vial and poured a few drops of the liquid contents onto a small rock on the ground. Then she ran back to where we stood. She made it just in time before the stone exploded, and she almost tripped when the fireball rose to the sky.
Morgana gasped. As did the rest of her entourage.
“Liquid fire?” The queen’s eyes were on their way out of their sockets.
“That was just a legend,” Prime Diwella said, her voice full of awe. “My father said it was never an actual thing.”
“Well.” Charlie grinned from ear to ear. “It is now. I don’t know how powerful it can be, but we should be able to attract the attention of the guards, at least.”
“How do I use it?” Morgana held out her hand.
“You don’t.”
“Pardon?”
“You’ll have to forgive me,” Charlie continued, “but I’m the only one who knows how to handle this for now.”
“No way!” I blurted. “You’re not coming with us. It’s way too—”
“It’s way too much my own decision, Ru. And, as the queen herself said, we need all the help we can get.” She gestured at the scorched hole in the ground behind her. “Such as liquid fire.”
“But you’re—”
“She’s coming,” Morgana said. “End of discussion.”
“Scouts incoming!” the Juniper guard shouted as he threw the door to Morgana’s hut open.
Morgana stood from her position at the end of the table, dropping her piece of bread on her plate. The Juniper guard held the door for her, and for the rest of us as we followed the queen outside.
Two eagles alighted on the fringe of the glade outside the huts. Juniper guards hurried to them, carrying their clothes and armour. Less than a minute later, they were fully clothed and marching across the yard to report to Morgana. One of them produced a rolled-up piece of vellum, small enough to fit around an eagle’s foot. He untied the string, unrolled the vellum, and handed it to Morgana.
She scanned the symbols and scribblings with her fingertip. “Right … mhm … and this is the main entrance, I see.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” said the other soldier. “The only entrance, in fact. I flew pretty close to the rear side of the mining complex—perhaps only two hundred pances. There were no other openings.”
“Except here and here,” Morgana said, tapping the drawing.
The Juniper squinted quizzically. “My Queen?”
“I haven’t been to the Dewmas mines since I was twelve or thereabouts, but I remember the two air shafts vividly. My sister and I used to fly in and out through them, much to our father’s dismay.”
The soldier looked at his feet. “I—I’m sorry, Highness. We didn’t think about that.”
“And that’s fine, Juniper Briar. Not many would. Is there anything else to report?”
“Apart from any guards inside the mines themselves, of which I suppose there has to be a few, I don’t believe so.”
Morgana dismissed them, and they went back to their fellow soldiers, both seemingly blaming the other for not thinking of the ventilation shafts.
“Gather around,” she said, addressing the group. “Forty guards, mostly Sorcerers. Might be a few Changelings and other Magicals among them, especially underground, controlling the slaves.”
“Like Dodgers and Awr Benders?” Charlie asked.
“Like those, yes. No griffins were to be seen, but they could be hunting in the mountains, ready to respond to the horn at any moment.”
“The horn?” My turn to ask.
“A giant contraption that can produce a sound loud enough to reach griffins three mountains away.”
Brendan stepped forward. “So, if the scouts didn’t see any griffins, how much time would we have until they arrive, if called upon?”
“Not more than a quarter-awr, maybe only half of that.”
“If the horn is working,” Charlie said. “Brendan, who is your best archer?”
“Cynthia of Cavalas,” my boyfriend and my royal ancestor said in unison. They looked at each other, nodding, and Brendan’s eyes lit up with something I couldn’t quite figure out. Pride?
“And how far away can she be trusted to hit a target?” Charlie asked.
Brendan grinned. “At least two hundr—”
Morgana held up her hand, dismissively. “An arrow won’t break the horn, Lady Carolina.”
“It might, if it’s carrying liquid fire on its tip.”
“Juniper Cynthia,” Brendan commanded.
“Here, Swordmaster,” the young woman said, almost jumping out in front of him. She came a little closer to him than any other Juniper I’d seen. And man, she was gorgeous. Green doe-eyes complemented her outfit, and strawberry-coloured lips turned up in a sideways half-smile. Her skin was like porcelain, and her hair, although arranged in swirls on her head, had sun-coloured tendrils spilling down around her face. A needle of jealousy pricked my heart when I saw the look she gave Brendan. And was there not a flirtatious tone to her voice?
Get a grip, Ru!
Brendan faced Charlie. “How do we test it?”
She retrieved the vial from earlier. “Extremely carefully. How fast can you nock and shoot, Juniper?”
Cynthia gave a cunning smile. “Like this, you mean, milady?”
With a movement so fast I could have sworn it was played on triple speed, she whipped her bow from her back and produced an arrow from her quiver. The arrow vibrated in the trunk of a tree a hundred yards across the glade an instant later.
“I’m sorry, milady,” Cynthia said. “The arrow got a little stuck in my quiver. I can do it faster.”
“No, no, that’s plenty fast.” Charlie shook her head, her eyebrows raised to her hairline. “Now hit that tree again, but this time we dip the tip in here first.” She held out the vial. “But only the very tip of the tip. And please, don’t hurry until after you’ve got a drop on it.”
“As milady commands.” The lightning-fast Fae pulled another arrow from her quiver and guided the tip towards the mouth of the vial in a glacially slow movement.
Charlie cleared her throat. “Just to be clear. The instant a drop of the liquid is on the tip, you may—no, you must—move fast.” Her hand started shaking.
The tip of the arrow was only an inch from the lip, but it would be hard for Cynthia to find her mark, master archeress or not. The Juniper gripped Charlie’s wrist, her bow hanging from its string around her elbow.
“Easy, milady. I got you.”
The shaking stopped.
“I—I can see that. But you need both hands to fire the arrow.”
“I will have them,” Cynthia of Cavales said calmly. She
dipped the pointy end of the arrow slowly into the vial, then withdrew it while letting go of Charlie’s hand. With a swift flick of her arm, the bow flew out from her elbow and into her hand. Her other hand was already in position, nocking the arrow’s tiny slit around the string.
A second later, the tree next to the first one burst into flames.
Cynthia shrugged. “Couldn’t hit the same one. Might need the arrow.” She smiled sweetly at Brendan, unfolded her wings, and flew across the glade. As she approached the burning tree, she guarded herself from the flames with a force field and retrieved the first arrow, all the while hovering three feet above ground.
I wished I had wings. And I cursed myself for thinking it, as if I needed wings to keep Brendan. I trusted him, and should instead feel proud that other women wanted him.
I should, but I didn’t.
“Now that was what we would call wicked cool,” Charlie exclaimed.
Morgana slid her palm over her hair. “All we have to do is get Juniper Cynthia within firing range of the horn before the guards have time to summon their griffins. Let’s get back inside and finish our meal. It might be a long while until the next time food passes your lips.” She narrowed her eyes and glanced to the northwest.
“We leave for the Dewmas mines in one awr.”
Chapter Fifteen
Amalli’s sleek muscles moved under my palms when she turned her head and glanced at Xavi. The griffins’ wingtips were only a few inches apart, and although I hadn’t watched them constantly, I couldn’t recall having seen them drift further at any moment during our flight. Brendan smiled at me from Xavi’s back, his Juniper cloak flapping in the wind.
I raised my right hand and formed half a heart symbol with my fingers. Brendan completed it with his left. We looked fourteen, but I didn’t care.
“Love you,” I mouthed.
“I know,” he replied, as if I were Princess Leia to his Han Solo.
On my left, Commander Taryn sat astride a griffin named Meneera. Taryn had only agreed to ride it when Morgana said she wanted him to conserve energy instead of flying himself.