The Renegade Son (Winter's Blight Book 2)

by K. C. Lannon

  “I don’t know why Philip saved me,” Iain continued as he blocked a blow to his solar plexus, “but he is squandering his name, his sacrifice, by lying about why Philip died!”

  “Shut up! You’re wrong. You’re lying!”

  “But it won’t be in vain—I’m going to the Summer Court with Deirdre! I’ll warn them and stop General Callaghan!”

  Deirdre felt like cheering, but Boyd really lost it, advancing and throwing punches wildly. While he was far less precise now, making it easier for Iain to read and respond to his attacks, it was still clear who was the more experienced fighter.

  James was standing behind Alvey, watching all this unfold and looking sick to his stomach, hands shaking. Deirdre was beside him, whispering, “We need to do something! What should we do?”

  Alvey hissed. “Cease your yammering. You need to attack the soldier and help Iain!”

  “I… I can’t do that! I’ve never fought anyone bigger than me before! I mean, except the Fachan, but that was a fluke, and I was using magic…”

  “So do it again!”

  “No! I’ll bring the roof down on our heads! No, I can’t; I can’t use magic ever again, Alvey! That’s how we wound up here—”

  “Deirdre, you were using magic all this time! When you spoke to the rocks, the way I did not tell you to—you were using magic!”

  Her mouth fell open. “I was? But that wasn’t… scary at all.”

  “You spoke to it and listened to its story. Now ask it to help you—ask it to help Iain!”

  “How?”

  “You’re talkative—just do it!”

  Deirdre looked back up just in time to see Boyd’s elbow collide with the side of Iain’s head. It was a slightly glancing hit, but it was strong enough to knock Iain down again. She didn’t know if he would get back up this time.

  Biting down panic, Deirdre slunk to the ground and dug her nails in, staring at the cave floor underneath the two soldiers, thinking, reaching out. Please help! I can sense you over there… I know where you’re from! You’ve listened to others, so please listen to me! Move underneath Boyd! Move and make him fall back! Move! Move, like you used to ages ago!

  There was a crumbling noise, then a loud crack as the earth beneath Boyd’s feet sprang to life. It was as if he were standing on a small wave of water instead of earth, and the wave suddenly jerked forward and up, completely knocking him off his feet, sending him falling onto his back with a loud, surprised yelp.

  But he began to get back up quickly, bewildered, glaring around for a cause. His gaze darted to her, and fear sprung up in her, making her briefly lose her breath.

  She grabbed the ground harder and shut her eyes, whispering, “Don’t let him get up. Keep him down! Don’t let him move!”

  Obediently the ground beneath him slid backward smoothly, like a speedy conveyer belt, and he went flailing but not falling. But the ground kept moving, abruptly and strongly jerking this way and that without warning to trip him; he finally fell back down, flat on his face. There was a loud, sick noise of his forehead hitting a small incline in the stone ground hard and squarely.

  James let out a terse, nervous laugh as Iain quickly stepped in and cuffed Boyd, who groaned in protest, eyes shut and not moving much.

  Iain let out a shout of surprise when the ground beneath him jerked backward, and he shouted at Deirdre, “Stop it!”

  “Sorry!” She pulled her hands back and stood up speedily; the ground stopped shifting instantly.

  “That was… magic?” James asked, his voice hollow.

  Alvey answered flatly, “That was embarrassing magic.”

  Iain opened his mouth to retort but just bent over instead, out of breath, one hand pressed to the bloodied side of his head.

  “L-lemme up…” Boyd jerked into consciousness, still dazed. He lifted his head some, revealing an ugly, large gash taking up most of his forehead. Deirdre couldn’t help but wince.

  “Only if you don’t make any trouble,” Iain replied, glaring down at him.

  Boyd growled in protest.

  “We could always tie you up and leave you here in this cave. Give it a week, and you might be mistaken for the dwarf. A scraggly bearded dwarf.”

  Boyd didn’t reply but began to get back up as much as Iain allowed, shaking his head experimentally, wincing.

  Just as Boyd began to sit up, James rushed over, quick as a flash, and delivered a swift kick to his face with a grunt, knocking him back again. Deirdre let out a shriek, stepping forward to stop him, but Iain got there first.

  “Stop—!” Grabbing James under his arms from behind, Iain hoisted him off the ground, pulling him back from Boyd, who was groaning, stunned, on the ground. James barely struggled, going limp in his brother’s arms. “James, what are you—?”

  “He shot him. He killed him right in front of us—” James’s voice was strained and choked, like he was holding back a shout. “He… he deserves it!”

  There was a pause with only the sound of James’s shallow breathing echoing through the cave.

  “I know.” Iain let go of him slowly, one of his fists still grabbing the back of his sweater. “I know, James.”

  “And we— There wasn’t anything we could do…,” James said distantly, lowering his arms to his side, his eyes glazed. “We couldn’t do anything.”

  Iain began to talk to James quietly where the others (except for maybe Alvey) could not hear, and James nodded once in response before Iain let him go completely, seemingly convinced that his brother wouldn’t try to land another blow.

  “Is… it okay to leave him there?” Deirdre spoke up after a pause, gnawing on her lip as she glanced quickly at Walker’s corpse. “I mean, they’ll come and retrieve the body, right? They wouldn’t just leave him missing…”

  Iain looked at her sadly. “The Guard will find him when they come back, and they… need to see what happened. They’ll come for him.”

  Deirdre sighed. “Good.”

  Iain then went back over to Boyd, instructing him to place his hands behind his back. Boyd straightened and was fairly complacent as they headed to the cave, still dazed.

  It was getting dark as they exited the cave and cuffed Boyd to a military truck that was parked behind some trees—somewhere where Iain said he’d be found easily but not too easily. Then he took Boyd’s radio from him, presumably so that he could not call for backup, Deirdre thought.

  As they headed down an old, grass-covered farm path into the trees, Deirdre turned to Iain, saying, “Why did you take that? Don’t you have a radio already?”

  Iain looked down at the device in his hand. “Yes… but… Boyd’s radio is connected to the Iron Guard base in Neo-London, and maybe I can reach more of the Iron Guard with it. Maybe I can at least tell them how and why Philip died and that you’re innocent…”

  Deirdre’s spirits brightened. “It’s worth a shot!” Then she waited for him to begin.

  “Okay… you’re going to stand here while I do this, aren’t you?” Iain half mumbled under his breath, looking almost shy.

  Then he flipped the radio on and scanned through a few channels until he heard a commanding voice come through: “This is General Windsor, requesting an update on project War Hammer. Over.”

  “General Windsor,” Iain said, breathless, “this is Iain Callaghan of the Iron Wardens. Over.”

  He waited, and his hand gripping the radio tightly.

  The general paused, clearly confused. Deirdre could hear indistinct chatter coming through behind him. “…Where is Infantryman Prance? Over.”

  Quickly at first but then slowing his speech after a breath, ignoring the general’s question, Iain began: “The faery accused of King Eadred’s assassination is innocent. I don’t know what you’ve heard about Commander Philip Prance’s passing, but I was there when it happened.

  “He did not go on a mission to capture the king’s killer but to inform me that the death of the king was not a random attack by any faeries of the Courts but
planned by some of the higher ups of the Iron Guard.”

  Iain took a shaky breath, and Deirdre met his gaze with an encouraging nod. For some reason that seemed to give him more confidence, and his voice was certain as he continued.

  “Philip knew about this treasonous plot because he served under these same higher ups, one of them being Boyd Prance, his brother. And he died defending me so that I could get this message out to you…

  “The Iron Guard is trying to bring the barrier around the Summer Court down. The Guard will ask you to go to war against the Summer Court at the request of the Winter Court, claiming that this attack against the king was carried out by both Seelie and Unseelie faeries in Neo-London. But this is not the truth.”

  Iain wet his lips, his eyes fixed uncertainly on the device. Then he added finally, “Don’t let Philip’s sacrifice be in vain. Over.”

  After he depressed the button, there was a pause on the other end before the general clearly began to talk but was drowned out by the chatter erupting around him. They could hear a brief, strangled, static order of “Put Prance back on—” before it cut off completely.

  Iain just stared at the radio, blinking once.

  Deirdre clapped her hands together in brief but sincere applause once he finished and Iain’s face reddened after he jolted in alarm. “That sounded great!” she said, smiling at him.

  He just nodded and hunched his shoulders as they began to walk toward the rest of the group. “I was thinking about what Alvey said, about the faery that caused the Cataclysm turning Seelie…”

  Deirdre glanced up at him. “Hmm. Yes, it is strange.”

  “That must be why my father is trying to bring the barrier of the Summer Court down, because that same faery lives with the Seelies now. He always said the faery that did it never paid for his crimes, never got justice.”

  Frowning, Deirdre nodded. “But why would he punish the whole Court for one faery’s crimes?”

  Iain looked grim when he said, “He thinks they’re all the same, faeries. He thinks it doesn’t matter who they are or how they live.” He shook his head. “He’s wrong. He couldn’t be more wrong.”

  But Alan Callaghan can’t bring down the barrier… can he?

  What if he does? What if I don’t reach it before then? Then I’ll never get answers…

  Maybe… Maybe I don’t need answers anyway.

  “Thank you, Deirdre,” Iain said.

  “Huh?”

  “For the magic, moving the ground and everything.” He motioned back at the cave exit. “You saved my life in there, so thank you.”

  She rubbed the back of her head. “You’re welcome! I’m just glad it worked out!”

  “I think you might get the hang of your magic after all.”

  “Yeah… maybe. I think so too.”

  “Make haste!” Alvey snapped from ahead of them.

  Deirdre began to follow, but Iain stayed where he was, fiddling with the front of his military jacket.

  She stopped, tilting her head. “Iain?”

  “Just one more thing…” With a couple of solid pulls, he yanked off a patch of his jacket on the shoulder, briefly holding it up so Deirdre could see the Iron Warden horseshoe insignia on it before he tossed it onto the ground.

  “Oh!” Deirdre let out a surprised laugh. “I thought you were going to tear off your sleeves for a moment there.”

  Iain blinked once, registering what she said, before sputtering a laugh. His face colored. “Ah, that would have been much more dramatic, but I don’t think I could pull that look off. This northern weather is far too chilly!”

  He turned, walking toward her and smiling faintly. “Let’s get moving.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Once the group had exited the tunnels, stepping into sunlight again, James had been quick to grab his notebook from his backpack and begin to jot down everything he could remember about the dwarf and the artifacts it had hoarded.

  The sun was warming on his back, even though his eyes stung as they adjusted to the light, and he felt slightly comforted with a notebook in his hands. Thoughts of Commander Walker’s death, Boyd’s threats, and the dull aching of his bruised face were soon eased from his mind as thoughts of ancient weapons and Unseelie creatures leaped from his pen to the crumpled pages, bringing with it the thrill of knowledge.

  As he wrote furiously while he walked, hardly aware of where he was stepping, he gripped his notebook tightly like it was the only thing he had left.

  An Unseelie dwarf is susceptible to trickery. A victim of its own greed, the creature even grabbed an iron skillet— James frowned at the page. A skillet didn’t sound nearly cool enough. He scratched through it. The creature even grabbed an iron mace that was tossed to him, oblivious to the risk involved.

  He thought about adding the part where his brother had slain the dwarf with an axe, but stopped. I mean, anyone could have done that. I could have done that, too, if I’d been given the chance…

  He opted instead to write down Alvey’s information on the Seelies and Unseelies switching sides: This information came to me from a… half elf…

  James paused, trying to think of a descriptor for her. A know-it-all half elf? A snobby half elf? He found he couldn’t think of anything he liked—most of what he came up with was either inconsequential, mean, or just plain embarrassing, like the fact that she was very capable and just plain pretty.

  James began to climb up the embankment with everyone else, giving up for now.

  The tunnels had led out into a small ravine and above that, a small grove. He sat on the ground and returned to his notebook, adding a question mark beside his new note about breaking the barrier. He had never heard of anything that could drain magic from a faery or that could break down something as powerful as a magical barrier. It occurred to him then that he would soon see the barrier, and the Summer Court, for himself.

  He got chills just thinking about it—being one of the first humans to ever go past the barrier. And yet the thought also made him anxious, knowing that his brother’s reasons for wanting to go there were far different from his own. His brother seemed intent on involving himself in this conflict with their father, the Iron Guard, and the Winter Court.

  James wanted nothing to do with that conflict. All he wanted was to find Mum and see as many faery wonders as he could in the process; that was what he and Iain had always talked about doing. And seeing the Summer Court was a wonder he had never even thought possible to dream of.

  Maybe Alvey would know more about the Summer Court and the barrier…

  He let out a low groan, annoyed at the mere thought of asking her opinion. Then again, he reasoned, she had told him about the warring Courts when he’d asked, so perhaps she would be accommodating again. Determined, he got up and walked over to where Alvey had parked her chair under a shady gathering of trees at the edge of the forest.

  James watched her curiously as he neared, finding her heightened senses amazing. When Alvey heard footsteps, she perked up, straightening in her chair and smiling. Then she leaned her head forward and took a sniff of the air.

  Then she scowled. “Oh,” she said. “It’s you… Jay— I mean, James.”

  James felt his face heat. “How did you know?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. It was both baffling and mortifying that she could smell him.

  But I bathed last night!

  I guess I was sweating a lot earlier…

  Alvey just smirked. “I just know things. All beings such as myself know things.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Additionally, your footfalls are unmistakably light.”

  “Right.” James scoffed. “So if you know things, can you tell me what can break down a barrier like the one around the Summer Court?”

  “I will answer your questions if you answer mine in return. ’Tis only fair.” Alvey folded her hands in her lap coyly.

  James’s mouth stretched into a wide, smug smile. She was asking him questions now. He knew there must be some stuf
f she didn’t know about. “What questions? I know a lot about—”

  “Your brother. I wish to learn about Iain.”

  James felt his ego deflate like a sad balloon. “What?”

  The half elf’s pale face had gone pink. “He is quite fascinating— I do not have much knowledge on humans, you see. Your brother is a good specimen to study.”

  “I’m human—”

  “Does he have a courter? A betrothed? A maiden?”

  James’s mouth was dry from how long his jaw had been hanging open. “If I answer, will you tell me about the barrier?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Fine. He doesn’t have a girlfriend currently,” James ground out. “Now answer my question: What could break the barrier around the Summer Court?”

  Alvey stiffened. “Methinks no such thing exists. At least nothing that I have ever heard of could do such a thing.”

  Well, that was a waste of time…

  Sighing, James went to put his notebook away, when he spotted the book on Unseelie faeries inside. A thought occurred to him, and a jolt of excitement shot through him. He fumbled with the book with shaky hands as he retrieved it, forgetting that she would not be able to read it.

  “You know a lot about Unseelie faeries, right?” James asked hopefully.

  “Aye.”

  “Then what kind of faery would live in the moorlands? I have this book, but the pages are torn out, and—”

  “Ah, I see. You must be searching for your master.”

  James snapped his head up from his book in bewilderment. “My what?” He shook his head, chuckling nervously. “No, no. I’m looking for the creature that has my mum. You see, she—”

  “Aha!” Alvey interrupted him, snapping her fingers sharply. “That explains it. Your mother became a thrall in your place, shifting the bond but not the mark. That explains why I can sense the mark on you, yet I can clearly sense you are not fully a thrall.”