by May Dawson
I really, really didn’t want to follow the goblin into the dank-smelling den where he had the upper hand. He could see in the dark, and I definitely couldn’t—I didn’t even have the high powered vision I did as a shifter.
Then I caught a glimpse of the marking on the stone to the side of the den. I frowned as I brushed moss out of the way. A rune glowed faintly against the stone, almost invisible.
Someone bound these goblins to their service.
Breaking the magic was as easy as breaking the rune itself. I searched through the forest floor and finally found a rock that I could use to scrape part of the rune away.
The feel of magic breaking felt like tension curling through the air.
In the distance, a cry rose from the goblins, echoed within the den.
I ran back toward the pass, wondering how the tide of the battle changed as the goblins regained their free will.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Where have you been, and what have you been up to?” Lex demanded as soon as I strode back to the pass.
The goblins were scattering, running wild through the woods. Turic’s men were shouting in the distance, trying to regroup. And my men grouped at the end of the pass among the trees, along with Arlen and Lake.
Arlen frowned at me, running a bloodied hand through his hair, mindless of the mess it made. It looked mangled, as if one of the goblins had managed to maul him.
“You’re hurt,” I said, reaching for his hand. Blood dripped steadily from his hand, forming big, red spots across the leaves.
His gaze fell to my hand on his, then rose to meet my eyes, a dark expression darting across his face. He caught my wrist with his hand, yanking me toward him. “You got the cuff off somehow. You unleashed the goblins, didn’t you?”
All around me, my men bristled, already moving toward us.
Arlen tried to drag me against his chest, his dagger a silver flicker in his good hand.
I was already moving, throwing myself into his grip, harder than he expected, so that he stumbled back before he could get a knife to my throat.
An arrow whistled by just above my shoulder and slammed into his armor breastplate. He went down with the force of the blow. Lake launched himself toward us, a look of danger flashing across his face like a storm.
“Take cover!” Tyson shouted at the rest of the team, shoving Penn. “That came from the east!”
Rafe whirled low to the ground, kicking Lake’s feet out from under him, just as Lex caught Arlen’s sword hilt and snatched the sword from his harness. Then Lex had the edge of the blade at Arlen’s throat, and Arlen glared at him.
“We need to take cover,” Lex said, his voice heated. “Do you think you can try not to do anything stupid while we try to stop whoever’s shooting arrows at us?”
“Keep the blade on him,” Rafe said. “Maddie, Silas, with me. The rest of you keep the Fae under control.”
“Get up,” Lex said, his voice dangerous. Arlen climbed to his feet carefully, mindful of the blade held at his throat, and they moved back into the cover of the bushes as Penn and Tyson moved to block Lake.
In the distance, Turic’s men were shouting directions to each other as they tried to track down the archers. An arrow hit one of the men, sizzling out of the air so fast that there was no time to react, punching into his armor. He slammed into the side of the rocky crevasse, an open-mouthed look of death on his face.
That arrow came from the opposite direction.
“The archers are in the trees,” I said, feeling that creeping tingle brushing my spine. “They’re above us.”
It wasn’t the Huntress in the trees, as I’d dared to hope for a minute. She never would have shot Arlen.
Rafe, Silas and I moved swiftly through the forest, spreading out as if we were still wolves.
My focus was on the canopy above. I searched for the faint shaking in the leaves that signaled a predator’s slow, stealthy movements. We paralleled the rocky crevasse, taking the high ground, still so close we could hear Turic’s men yelling as they tended their wounded and set up a perimeter back on the far side of the pass.
Then I felt it, though I couldn’t have pointed to a single clear signal. I came to a pause, trusting my subconscious instincts. I made eye contact with Rafe, then Silas, the three of us coming to a pause before I raised my gaze.
Rafe signaled for Silas to stay here as our backup, magic at the ready. Then he gestured for me to go with him up into the trees.
I would’ve liked to mention that I’d already been to a party in the canopy and I wasn’t in any hurry to go again, but I couldn’t be a smartass when we were communicating with hand signals. Instead, I jumped and caught a low branch. I skimmed myself up and over. The bark skinned the raw skin on my knee and I gritted my teeth, then began to climb.
Soon I was up in the lush green canopy. The scent of flowers and fresh air wrapped around me, peculiar after the copper tang of blood and the fear on the forest floor below. Rafe was opposite me a few trees away, moving quietly along the long, entwined branch. Seeing his tall powerful body as he walked gracefully along the uneven branches made my heart stutter in my chest, in a mixture of worry and desire.
I spied the cloaked figure ahead of us, bow raised, attention focused on the pass below. They had an arrow cocked in their bow, ready to fire, and they were aiming at someone below—either one of Turic’s men, or one of mine.
They whirled, sure-footed on the branch, and fired off the arrow. It slammed into Rafe’s shoulder, knocking him through the trees. He plummeted toward the ground.
I ran across the branches and slammed into the figure, knocking them out of the trees too. They dropped the bow as we both fell.
The two of us slammed into the forest floor below. The force knocked the wind out of me, and I tried to draw a ragged breath at the same time as I launched myself at them.
The two of us were still wrestling for control when we rolled off the edge of the precipice and crashed into the white stone dust road below.
I just lay there, all the breath gone from my lungs. Rafe? Where was Rafe?
Fae faces loomed above me, beautiful and disinterested, as I finally managed to draw in a rough breath. I was pretty sure I’d broken several ribs in the fall, and I was afraid to move.
Then Tyson was there, his hands moving across my body, a familiar warm golden glow lighting my skin.
When some of the sickening wash of pain receded, I could make out more than Tyson’s worried face above me.
I could see Turic, moving toward the other unmoving figure on the ground.
He kicked the figure over, revealing Raura’s white face, her slack red mouth, and I let out a gasp.
“Hello, daughter,” he said, though she wasn’t conscious to hear him.
Chapter Forty-Three
“Where’s Rafe?” My voice was a rasp as I grabbed Tyson’s sleeve. He was calm and proficient as ever, but there was something a bit wild in his eyes when he looked at me.
“Silas has him,” he said.
That wasn’t good enough—Silas could have his corpse. Why the hell had Raura attacked us? I struggled onto my elbows, and Tyson snapped, “Stay still, Maddie. I need to make sure your goddamn back is in one piece so you don’t paralyze yourself.”
His tone made me want to kill him. But I let my head fall back into the soft grass, and as I watched him work, I realized how distraught his face was.
“You swear at me when you’re worried,” I whispered. “Well, heal me then.”
“I am worried,” he said, “and I’m trying.”
Raura blinked her long, dark lashes, then came to suddenly, her eyes snapping open. Her voice came out broken, barely audible as she groaned. “Arlen.”
But she didn’t have anyone crowding over her to make sure she was safe and healed.
“He didn’t stop moving after you shot him,” Ty told her, his hand sweeping down my spine, hot and healing. He wasn’t even looking at me; it seemed as if he was looking
at Raura, but I could feel his attention roving all round us. He was keeping an eye on the Fae to make sure they didn’t see him heal me. “He didn’t stop being a dickhead, either.”
His tone was brusque, but her eyes closed, as if that was all the kindness she needed. It felt like too much kindness, actually, when I didn’t know if Rafe was going to be okay.
“Why, Raura?” I demanded. “I thought we were friends.”
Turic crouched between us, his elbows braced on his knees. “Oh, Raura might have liked you, Maddie. That wasn’t necessarily a lie. Some Fae love humans like you love your pets. But that doesn’t mean the Huntress wouldn’t do whatever it took to spawn her wicked rebellion.”
She tried to say something, but seemed to choke on the words.
“Is she okay?” I said, putting my hand on Tyson’s chest and pushing Tyson away from me, toward her. He didn’t move. I must be weak now.
“Tyson,” I begged. “You’ve got to help her.”
Turic shook his head, studying her. His eyes were dark and sad. A thin trickle of red blood appeared at the corner of her mouth, and he ran his thumb over her lip to wipe the blood away.
“You know I’d never actually hurt those children,” he said, his voice weary. “You always wanted to see me as such a villain, Raura. Well, here you are. I’m the villain you wanted me to be.”
But despite his words, he spread his hands toward her, blue and purple and pink magic swirling around his fingertips. She went rigid, and then suddenly she jerked upright, drawing a desperate breath, her eyes wide.
Her gaze found mine, then she turned to look—for Arlen, I was sure.
She began to babble, “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone except—”
“Shh,” he told her, pressing his hand over her lips. “You’ll have your chance to plead your case in the throne room when we return to the keep. For now, I’ve got to get my surviving men to safety before nightfall and give them the chance to recover.”
He and some of the other Fae made their way among the others, healing them enough so they could safely get back on their horses to ride. Not every Fae had healing magic, and Turic obviously had the most power of all. Turic came to the knight with the arrow through his chest, and he sighed, bowing his head over the body.
Two knights got Raura up off the ground and bound her hands, tying her onto the saddle of her horse. She looked at me with wide, desperate eyes. She seemed to try to speak, but she couldn’t.
There was a sick feeling in my stomach as Tyson helped me off the ground.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, steadying me.
“No,” I said, and a wrinkle creased his brows; he looked as if he was about to jump to catch me. “Ty, what did I do?”
“What did you do?” he asked, his worry flipping to fury in an instant. “You sacrificed yourself for the team without any fucking hesitation, Maddie, when we didn’t need you to. I don’t know what the hell you have to prove, but we don’t need you to die protecting us!”
I stared into his angry face, about to return fire when I realized the Fae were staring at us. He noticed them too, then gritted to me, “I’m pretty sure the Fae are convinced you’re a goddamn superhero.”
Oh, I wish. Thanks to Tyson’s stealthy healing, the worst of the pain has faded.
“I’m going to check on Rafe,” I said.
The words would have sounded like a more dignified retreat if I hadn’t stumbled as soon as I took a step. Ty was there in an instant, sweeping me off the ground with an arm under my legs and another arm circling my back. He cradled me against his chest as he carried me.
“Put me down,” I hissed.
“We’re never going to be in the Fae world again,” he shot back. “No one who matters—except us—is ever going to see you being weak for two minutes after taking a thirty-foot fall. And it would be fucking wonderful if you weren’t afraid to be weak in front of us, given that we’ve certainly all taken our turn being weak in front of you. For you, even.”
His words took my breath away just as much as the fall had—first, because I was getting just as angry as he was, and second, because he said he’d been weak for me. I was stunned, and that made my voice come out curious when I asked, “You are just full of pissed at me today, aren’t you?”
“A little bit, yeah,” he said. “You scared me. I don’t deal well with losing you, Maddie—I’ve been down that road once or twice already.”
He carried me to where Rafe was sitting with his back up against a tree, pale under his dark hair but breathing. When his gaze met mine, his lips rose in the faintest smile, as if he wanted to assure me he was fine, even though his eyes were tired.
“Rafe.” My voice came out a whisper.
He took in Tyson carrying me, then said, “What’d you do?”
“Why does everyone ask me that?” When Tyson set me down, I took a few steps toward Rafe, about to sit beside him. But as I crouched, Rafe caught me around the waist and hauled me into his lap. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, and despite myself, I sank against his body.
“I just saw my life flash in front of my eyes,” he murmured into my ear, “And it made me realize just how much time I wasted not holding you.”
The two of us sank together, watching Turic and his healers patch up their men—and load up the dead—as they got ready to move again. Both of us needed a moment to recover from what we’d just been through.
I glanced down at that strong forearm wrapped around my waist, at the glint of the gold cuff on his broad wrist, and realized I was missing my own cuff. I eased it out of my pocket furtively, and slipped it on again—but without magic sealing it on my wrist, I was pretty sure it was just a bracelet with a clasp. Even if it blocked my magic, I could get it off again now that it was loose.
When Tyson and Lex came to help us get back up on our horses, I felt ready despite my still sore muscles to rise back into the saddle.
Part of that was the healing magic that had cured the worst of the damage.
But maybe, part of it was just being close to Rafe.
“Hang on,” Arlen ground out, just as I swung up onto my horse. He had one arm still wrapped around his chest protectively; he must have broken some ribs. Magic was finite, and so was healing capacity, but I was surprised that Turic didn’t have enough juice to deal with the cracked ribs.
Unless Turic didn’t care much for Arlen.
He pointed to my wrist. “Our friends lost their jewelry somewhere along the way.”
I certainly didn’t care much for Arlen.
Turic glanced at me, his gaze taking in the cuff around my wrist.
Arlen’s jaw tightened. “She wasn’t wearing it earlier!”
“Did you all find a way to get the cuffs off?” Turic asked.
Rafe’s hand went to his cuff. “Mine’s stayed on.” He glanced around the rest of us, a question in his eyes—and a bit of irritation. Rafe would be furious if he thought any of us had kept a secret from him.
“No matter.” Turic raised his hand in a quick, dismissive gesture. The cuffs fell off all our wrists, landing in the dirt.
Arlen made a small noise of objection.
“I think the shifters proved themselves when they fought alongside us to beat the goblins, Arlen,” Turic chided him. “They treated us as friends, and we should return the favor, should we not?”
Arlen’s face said not, but he managed, “Yes, Lord Regent.”
That didn’t stop him glowering daggers at us as he mounted his own horse with easy grace.
Arlen flashed a meaningful look at Lake. Lake didn’t even seem to notice. He kept staring at Raura, the look on his face stricken.
“We need to ride,” Turic said. “We wasted a lot of time, and we need to move to get to safety before nightfall.”
Even the Fae were afraid of the forest by night.
Chapter Forty-Four
Dusk was falling, and the tension in the air growing, as the path widened and farms began to dot
the countryside. The farms themselves seem to be shuttering, preparing for the night.
“How bad is the Fae world in the dark?” I asked. I glanced over my shoulder at Raura, who rode between two guards. Really, she was the one whose answer I wanted.
Her eyes were resigned when they met mine. I wondered if she thought I hated her.
Maybe I should hate her, but I had a feeling there was more going on than what I’d seen before I tackled her. A strange sense of guilt lay in my stomach, as heavy as if I’d swallowed a stone.
I needed to figure out what was going on. Raura must have thought that killing Turic would protect the orphans, but why would she shoot Arlen and Rafe?
Arlen and Lake rode just ahead of us. Lake had tried to talk to Arlen several times, only for Arlen to all but snarl back at him, those slightly sharp Fae teeth feral and dangerous. Arlen was obviously suffering, based on the stiff way he rode.
“We aren’t going to make the city in time,” Turic said. His voice was calm, despite the sun sinking low over the trees. He pointed toward a sprawling farm ahead. Light seeped out from the shuttered windows. “We’re taking over that house.”
Two of his guards nodded and spurred their horses, riding ahead of us to the house. They banged on the door until a farmer finally answered.
An hour later, I found myself with my men in a large loft in the barn. The Fae warned us that the barn was not only locked but enchanted to keep us from escaping until morning. We tried to look impressed. We had Silas, after all. Even Fae magic didn’t mean too much to us.
“I see how highly they think of us,” Penn said dryly, glancing over the side of the loft at the cows, goats and horses that shared our quarters. But nothing kept him from making himself comfortable. He lay back on the hay in the loft, and I had a feeling he complained out of force of habit; he seemed comfortable as a king anywhere he lay.
A few minutes later, the doors opened again. They pushed Raura in, her hands still bound, and she looked over her shoulder, furious. One of Turic’s men followed her in, carrying a tray filled with bread, cheese, and fruit.