Queen of Wands (The Tree of Ages Series Book 4)

by Sara C. Roethle

  A small flurry of Pixies circled back toward them, which was nothing new considering their tiny wings carried them much faster than Anna and Eywen’s horse could walk.

  “Wait here,” several of them buzzed in unison.

  Nodding, Eywen drew their horse to a halt. The Pixies flew back in the direction they’d come, disappearing into the trees.

  Feeling suddenly nervous, she tapped Eywen’s shoulder. “You don’t think this is a trap, do you?”

  He turned and smiled at her. Two days ago she would have found the smile unnerving. Now, it just seemed normal, like the smile of a friend.

  “If the Pixies wanted to kill us,” he began, “they would have done so by now. We would have been powerless against such a large flock.”

  Just as he spoke, another flock zoomed overhead.

  Funny, she thought, she hadn’t realized any of the Pixies had fallen behind them.

  “Anna?” a voice questioned, and she nearly toppled out of her seat.

  She glanced over her shoulder to see Kai, a little dirty and bloody, but otherwise alive. Later, she might be embarrassed about the girlish shriek she let out, but now she could not be bothered. She hopped from the saddle and raced toward him, throwing herself into his arms.

  “I’m so glad to see you alive!” he laughed. “My captors only kept me alive believing I was one of the Dair, so I feared the worst.”

  She pulled out of the hug, gripping his biceps as she looked him up and down. “I remained unconscious for the entire attack,” she explained. “Eywen kept me safe.” She glanced over her shoulder toward Eywen, but he had ridden almost out of sight, as if to give them privacy.

  Kai visibly relaxed, letting out a long breath. “I was so afraid when he offered to take you. His horse was ready to go, and I thought it your best chance of survival.”

  “You made the right decision.” Her hands slipped from his biceps. “Besides, I would have been captured with you had you decided otherwise.” She took his hand and guided him to walk forward. “According to the Pixies, we’ve almost reached Finn and whoever else they have found. I must admit, not all Faie are as horrid as I once thought.”

  Her eyes trained on Eywen as they approached, still atop his horse beneath the shade of a large elm. In her mind, most Faie were still horrid, but not all. A few kind individuals made up the difference.

  As they reached Eywen, he slipped off his horse, facing them. “The two of you can ride,” he offered. “I could use the walk.”

  “Nonsense,” Anna said happily. “We will all walk together.”

  Eywen smiled warmly at her, then tugged the horse’s reins to lead the way.

  Kai leaned in close to her shoulder as they walked. “Don’t tell me that you’ve not only developed a taste for men,” he whispered, “but for the Aos Sí as well?”

  She scowled at him, her mood suddenly souring, though she was unable to remain sour for long. She was just too blasted excited to see Kai alive.

  He laughed at her expression.

  She knew more teasing was forthcoming, but she’d welcome it, because her best friend was alive, and that was all that truly mattered.

  Ealasaid looked out over the burgh as morning dawned. Acrid smoke hit her nostrils, even from her high vantage point in the guard tower. She couldn’t bear to think of what that smoke meant.

  Though An Fiach had sustained the majority of the casualties, many mages had fallen while Keiren was protecting them, a moral lapse that she could not forgive, even as Keiren offered to help them face the looming threat of the Aos Sí.

  Her lip trembled, but she fought back her tears. So many dead. She didn’t know most of their names, but those she did were almost too much to bear. Some of the fallen mages had been with her since she’d first joined An Solas, and others, like Tavish, she’d known for what felt like ages.

  She shook her head at the thought of Tavish. She’d seem him possibly mere moments before he’d died. They’d sent him back into battle while she’d snuck out the back of the estate with Maarav, and he’d died alongside her mages. He’d been more willing to fight and protect her friends than the other assassins, and he’d paid for his heroism with his life.

  She scowled at the sun, obscured by the smoke of so many funeral pyres. All along she’d thought she wanted revenge, but it had left her soul even more torn asunder than before. Now she was supposed to lead those who remained against an even greater threat. She knew she needed Keiren’s help, but could she trust it?

  A hand touched her back. Maarav.

  She turned to face him, looking for signs of grief in his expression, but he showed none. Did he feel nothing for their fallen companions? He’d known Tavish most of his life. Could he truly feel nothing at his death?

  “We need to speak with Keiren before the Aos Sí approach,” he urged.

  She gazed into his gray-green eyes. Was she truly alone in her grief?

  He placed a hand on her shoulder. “All you can do now is ensure they did not die in vain. They fought for a cause. Do not let it slip away.”

  “How do you handle it?” she breathed. “Every single death feels like I’ve lost a part of my soul. How can you deal with this unbearable weight?”

  He pulled her into a hug and she stiffened. She could not break down. Not now.

  “You learn to focus on the living,” he explained, still embracing her. “People will always die. It is simply a fact. Sometimes it feels like the grief will kill you, but it doesn’t. You continue living, even if you feel you no longer deserve life. Those pieces of your soul will remain missing, but eventually, you will not notice them as much.”

  She felt her body relax, like an ocean wave crashing onto shore, then calmly dissipating. “Every time I think you are one thing,” she muttered, “you prove yourself to be another.”

  He pulled away to reveal his smirk. “I have never lied about what I am . . . at least not much.”

  She snorted. “Yes, if being elusive does not count as lying, you’ve been rather up front, though I still do not understand your motives.”

  “And you likely never will,” he laughed. “I fear sometimes I do not understand them myself. I’ve dabbled in the game of war for many years, but never truly cared about the outcome.”

  “And now?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Do you care which way this war goes?”

  “Well, we’ve come this far,” he teased. “I may as well see it through, my queen.”

  “Oh don’t say that,” she sighed, then began walking toward the stairs. “I do not deserve, nor do I want the title, no matter what Keiren says.”

  “I don’t know,” he replied, moving to walk by her side. “I think I like it. I’ve never been so close to a queen.” He stopped walking to waggle his eyebrows at her.

  She punched him in the arm, though his words sent a nervous tingle through her gut. “What do you mean by close?” she asked boldly.

  “Well look,” he replied, gesturing to the ground between them. “I’m standing right next to you.”

  She rolled her eyes and started walking again. Insufferable man.

  He followed after her, whistling cheerfully despite the fact that the air in his lungs was tinged with the smoky corpses of people he knew.

  She would have liked to adopt his carefree demeanor, but every time she thought of the dead, she felt like she might vomit. Her upcoming meeting with Keiren inspired much the same feeling. The woman had tormented Bedelia, and turned her own father into a tree.

  Of course, Bedelia, Keiren’s spurned lover, was their only source of information. While Bedelia’s judgement was questionable, the fact that Keiren had protected An Fiach while they slaughtered Ealasaid’s mages was not.

  Maarav walked ahead of Ealasaid into what had become the designated meeting room. Perhaps as a queen she should have walked first, but he was no fool. Keiren was just as queenly as any female leader he’d ever met. Putting her, Lady Sìoda, and Ealasaid in one room was a recipe for disaster.

>   Lady Sìoda already waited within, seated in an ornate wooden chair that could only be referred to as a throne. She was flanked by five of her guards, up from the usual two. Her plump face was set in rigid lines, dutifully ignoring Keiren, who stood near the window, free of guards to protect her . . . not that she needed them.

  “Do not tell me my estate will be invaded even further,” Sìoda growled, flicking her gaze to Keiren.

  Keiren simply smirked. She was as tall as Lady Sìoda, perhaps even taller, but willowy with bones seeming as frail as a bird’s. She would not use her size to seem imposing like Sìoda tended to do, yet Sìoda was clearly frightened.

  Perhaps Keiren had magicked her way in.

  “You should be grateful the magic users laid down their lives for you,” Keiren chided.

  Maarav found it unnecessary to point out that the entire attack was brought on by Keiren. In reality it was bound to happen at some point.

  Sìoda glared at Keiren, then turned her gaze to Ealasaid, her expression softening ever so slightly. Could it be possible that Sìoda was actually warming to a filthy mage?

  Ealasaid strode forward. “No,” she answered, her gaze on Sìoda. “Lady Keiren is the only new addition . . . for now. She has some ideas to protect us from the next attack.”

  “An attack that will only come because of the mages,” Sìoda hissed.

  “You are too short sighted,” Keiren interrupted before Ealasaid could once again smooth Sìoda’s ruffled feathers. “This is not a matter of magic users against humans. It is a matter of humans against Faie. If you believe for a second that you would stand any chance of survival without Ealasaid’s help, then I bid you to travel out into the countryside. When you come running back, terrified of dark shapes in the night, I will not say I told you so.”

  Maarav raised his eyebrows at her. She might even be worse at diplomacy than Slàine, and that was saying something.

  Sìoda opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly at a loss for words.

  Seizing the opportunity, Keiren flicked her waist-length crimson hair over her shoulder and paced toward Sìoda’s throne, black dress swaying like silk. She placed a long-boned hand on the backrest. “Our new queen should sit here,” she decided. She turned a glare down to Sìoda. “Please move.”

  Sìoda stood. “How dare you!” she hissed. “This is my estate. I will say who sits where!”

  Keiren remained utterly calm. “Where is your husband, Sìoda? Still hiding under his bed from the scary mages and Faie? I don’t think he’d have an issue relinquishing leadership to someone actually capable.”

  Sìoda gasped. “You know nothing of my husband! Have you sent spies into my estate?”

  “You’re contradicting yourself,” Keiren replied, slinking away from the throne, “and you know full well you are out of your depth. Even so, we will protect you as long as you stay out of our way. Refuse, and you will be left in the woods for the Faie.” She whirled on her. “What say you?”

  Ealasaid turned worried eyes to Maarav. Should we intervene? she mouthed.

  Before he could answer, Sìoda hissed, “Fine!” She stormed toward the door, aiming a venomous look at Ealasaid. “This isn’t over,” she muttered, then let herself out of the room.

  Maarav lifted a hand to hide his snicker. Having Keiren around would definitely be entertaining, at the very least.

  “You know,” Ealasaid began, approaching Keiren, “I’ve spent ample time fostering a civil relationship with that woman, and you’ve ruined it in a single conversation.”

  Keiren waved her off. “She’s a vile, worthless woman. You are a queen. You should have thrown her in the dungeon ages ago.”

  “If I’m to be a queen,” Ealasaid sighed, “which I haven’t agreed to, that’s not the type of leader I would choose to be.”

  Keiren raised a brow at her. “Then it is lucky for the non-magical humans that you are the one the stars chose. Had they chosen me, the weak would not survive.”

  Maarav placed a hand on Ealasaid’s shoulder before she could speak. Things would soon take an ugly turn if Keiren continued to so honestly spout her point of view.

  Ealasaid’s shoulder beneath his hand lifted as she took a deep breath. “What do you mean, the stars chose me? Before we discuss anything else, I’m going to need a more thorough explanation of why you believe I’m this chosen queen, and how you happened upon the information in the first place.”

  Keiren sighed, then began to pace. “Queens of nations are chosen through marriage or heredity. They are only linked to their people as far as the laws they make, and what they do in regards to their kingdom. Magical queens are different. They are chosen by birth. Something in the stars decides that they are special, granting them with enormous power, as well as a link to their people. So many magic users are suddenly popping up across the land solely because you exist.”

  Maarav remained silent, taking in the new information. Ealasaid seemed content to do the same, though he wouldn’t be surprise if she burst out in argument any moment.

  “Oighear the White was born to be Queen of the Faie,” Keiren continued, “though many don’t regard her as such because she did not initially claim the role out of deference to her mother, who was ironically not a true queen. Her mother’s power came from a Faie relic, the shroud of the Faie Queen, but I digress. When the Cavari tricked Oighear into limiting her rightful power, the Faie linked to her began to fade. This was the true end to the Faie War, and the reason the Faie grew sparse. The Faie are nearly pure magic, and most could not sustain themselves without their queen. Most faded away for nearly a century, then Finnur returned, and somehow, so did Oighear. I do not know if the return in magic was due to Finnur’s return, or if she returned because of the magic, but I do not see it as terribly relevant to this conversation.” She paused and stared at Ealasaid. “Do you understand now? Oighear and Finnur were both chosen in the same manner as you.”

  “But if that’s true,” Ealasaid countered, “and this whole prophecy thing is true, that means that Finn and I both can’t survive.”

  “Precisely,” Keiren agreed. “And Finnur is more powerful than you, and has the Faie Queen’s shroud, which is why you need my help.”

  “And let me guess,” Maarav interrupted, “this has nothing to do with your vendetta against Finn? You wouldn’t possibly be attempting to turn us against her for your own gain?”

  She glared at him. He was used to women glaring at him, but this one had a certain measure of I will quite literally kill you behind it.

  “I have no vendetta against Finn,” Keiren explained, “except that she is an immortal being who will crush humans with her power. Perhaps you know her as a friend, but you do not understand what her people are capable of.” She paused, then looked him up and down. “Well, perhaps you do,” she added cryptically, “which boggles my mind further as to why you and your brother would both ally yourselves with her.”

  He raised both eyebrows in surprise, and took an instinctual step back. Was this woman truly all-seeing?

  She smirked. “I cannot read minds, if that’s what you’re thinking. At least not most.”

  He let out a long breath. Ealasaid was looking at him strangely in response to Keiren’s revelations, but he wasn’t about to explain to her that Finn had cursed his people over a century ago, stealing their souls, and the souls of any who carried on the bloodline.

  Keiren smiled victoriously, making him half believe she could read his mind. She turned back to Ealasaid. “Any further questions?”

  Ealasaid glanced at Maarav, then back to Keiren. “Hundreds, but I suppose they can wait. Let us focus on the Aos Sí while I mull over all you have said.”

  “Ah yes.” Keiren clapped her hands together. “I had nearly forgotten.” She began to pace. “Oighear is not with them, that I can see, so their magic is limited. Still, they are the greatest warriors this world has ever known, able to cut down even the fiercest fighters in the blink of an eye.” She frowned, her steps fal
tering as she seemed to think of something distant. An evil glint sparkled in her eye, then her pacing resumed.

  “Given these facts,” she continued, “a full magical assault will be necessary. Surely Oighear has sent them to test you,” she turned on her heel to eye Ealasaid, “and we will not disappoint her. You must prove yourself a worthy adversary, for surely you will face her before you face Finnur.”

  Maarav shivered at the thought. Keiren was a bit scary, but Oighear frightened even Iseult, and Iseult was a much braver man than he.

  “We can do that,” Ealasaid agreed, “though I have no intention of facing Finn. She has been nothing but kind to me.”

  Keiren rolled her eyes. “We can address your disillusionment later. For now we must assemble your mages. We will post them along the walls of the estate, out of reach of all harm but the Aos Sí’s arrows. For that danger we will use my wards. The mages will assault the Aos Sí with magic until they either die, or retreat.”

  Ealasaid shook her head. “But there are too many people outside the burgh. We cannot risk the Aos Sí claiming their lives to draw us out.”

  Keiren finally moved her gaze to Maarav, though he suspected she was only including him because she thought he’d be on her side. In some ways, he was. He would always protect those he knew over strangers, but he wasn’t quite cold blooded enough to leave them to die if there were another choice.

  “Ealasaid is right,” he agreed. “Even if we weren’t concerned with their lives, there is a certain need for diplomacy. If we all hope to survive, we must not further the divide between non-magical humans and mages.”

  Keiren tapped her finger against her rouged lip in thought. “I suppose you’re right. In that case, the mages will await the Aos Sí along the border of the burgh. I will protect them as best I can, though some will inevitably die.”

  Ealasaid opened her mouth to argue, but Maarav shook his head. This was the best plan they were going to get. As long as Keiren was willing to protect the mages, they might stand a chance of survival. If they did survive, they would seriously revisit the discussion of fortifying the burgh. If there was an outer wall, none of this would be an issue, and they might even survive without Keiren’s help, which he had no intention of depending on in the future.