Chapter 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The entire Brotherhood accompanied us from the castle. A few rode ahead of us—"Arrow fodder," Ossian had explained, "in case we're attacked"—but most were enlisted to handle the bear. And now I knew why we were leaving so early to reach our summoning grounds.

Someone had managed to find a colossal wagon to transport the grizzly, but it would take more than wood and iron and that chain to contain such a beast. No fewer than six Brothers restrained the bear with their magic, the bluish-green markings on their skin coming alive and binding around his muzzle, neck, and legs. It took one Brother to drive the wagon and another to keep the four draft horses calm with magic, and the rest were in reserve to change out any who grew weary.

The grizzly seemed determine to wear them all out by the time we got to town.

News of our departure must have spread for there were lanterns in every shop window to light our path. A few townsfolk wished us well before slamming the shutters against the cold and the fury of the bear. Fewer still were outside to throw winterberry branches at our horses' feet, wishing us a fruitful endeavor. No doubt there would have been more of a turnout had we not resembled a funeral procession. The Brothers were all in black and Ossian was shrouded in a floor-length cloak of the darkest green. In white fox fur and lambswool, I was the only one who didn't seem like she was headed to a graveyard.

We took the east road at the rotary, passing Patty's Pub and heading deep into farm country. Into hobgoblin bandit territory.

"Keep a sharp eye," Ossian declared, and Alec spurred his horse forward to scout. The fae king leaned over and squeezed my hand. "You'll be safe with me, love."

"I know," I replied, but my confidence wasn't all in him. It was in my own ability, and in the knowledge that there was a little tabby tomcat hiding away in my foraging bag.

The bag was layered under the white fur coat to keep him warm and extra hidden, and from the way his claws were pricking my stomach, I knew him to be half out of the bag and watching the passage of the sky from the gap between the coat collar and my neck. He'd been adamant about never letting me out of his sight, no matter what danger that posed to him. And with us still bonded, though I no longer bore the cat silhouette on my oak tree, we could pass small amounts of magic to each other in times of trouble. And trouble was sure to greet us in Elfame. The Court of Beasts would not bow to a new lord easily.

The heavy wagon ensured our pace to the summoning grounds was nothing faster than a crawl, but despite the hours of exposure, there had been no hobgoblin raid. I'd even relaxed enough from the constant threat of attack to enjoy the dinner Mrs. Bilberry had packed for me—sticky apricot chicken, steaming garlicky flatbread so I wouldn't get the glaze of the chicken all over my clothes, grilled asparagus spears, even a bottle of chilled Riesling!

Ossian hadn't wanted anything, offering the excuse that he'd already fed for the evening, but he did remark that if I enjoyed the food Mrs. Bilberry prepared here, then I was to be astounded by the quality I'd find in the Court of Beasts. It was nothing but the freshest food all the time, every time. Then, in a rare show of nostalgia, he regaled me with stories of the court he had grown up in. The éan sídhe—fairy birds—who sang sweeter than any bird. The week-long celebrations of every solstice and equinox where there were games of friendly competition, dancing, and feasting. The presentation of milk whenever a new child was born or an elder passed, persuading the great Cat Sídhe to leave the soul unmolested. The annual migration of the silver herons that resembled comets streaking across the sky.

And how his younger brother Callan had tainted every memory with his treachery.

"But we'll make new ones," he promised me. "And soon, too, for we are here."

I'd been so lost in his stories that I hadn't paid much mind to the landscape, as it was dark and there was no moon to see by. Presently, we turned down a country road and then I smelled it: rotting apples.

We were by an apple orchard.

A swath of fallow field separated us, but if I squinted really hard, I could just make out the details of a split-rail fence.

I stood up in my stirrups, peering down the road and to the left. A forest. From its darker outline against the star-swept sky, I knew those pointed spears to be those of red cedar and the rounder canopies to be of walnut.

The farmhouse where I'd lost the ember was just across that orchard.

From the piercing look Ossian gave me, his hand resting on the big pouch on his belt, I felt the need to explain: "I just, uh, smelled something strange."

"The world is changing with the seasons. I detect nothing unusual."

"Your nose is better than mine," I agreed, sitting back in the saddle and fixing my gaze straight ahead.

"Turn here," the fae king told the wagon driver, leading his horse into the field to the right. The frosted leaves of the clover cover crop flattened under the passage of its hooves.

"This is where your magic-sensing doodad told you I resonated?" I asked, letting my horse have its head so it could pick its preferred path after Ossian. It made an eerie amount of sense, considering how the ember in the farmhouse hearth had obeyed me, but I wasn't sure if it was for that same reason Ossian had picked this spot.

"It a scrying sphere, not a doodad, and yes, it is. And a fine place at that. This wide sky, an unplowed field with so much green life still alive in the soil. Two considerable forces of nature, I daresay. Come along."

Blustering breaths and creaking leather followed us as the draft horses strained to pull the wagon over the uneven terrain. The Brothers, each of them weary, could no longer muzzle the bear, but the beast was so tired from fighting his restraints for the last few hours that he only grunted whenever the wagon jostled from side to side. When it was clear the horses could no longer haul his bulk despite the whip lashing across their sweat-soaked flanks, Ossian declared, "This is good enough."

He dismounted, produced the scrying sphere, and trudged through the ankle-deep clover without a lantern to light his way. The amethyst within the sphere provided enough violet light for him to see by, paling and brightening when some unseen condition was met.

"Meadow, over here." He replaced the sphere in his belt and held out his hand. When I reached out to him, he said sharply, "Not your hand. The coat. You must feel the air."

"Does that mean I should get naked?" I snipped. "How much air am I supposed to feel?"

"Enough." His hand closed over the fur, and he slung it over his shoulder like he was preparing to model for a winter-themed fashion magazine. Then he rolled his eyes at the sight of my foraging bag. "This time I must insist. You cannot have anything on your person that might interfere with the magic. Your necklaces, except the rubies I gave you, and that bag must go."

No , a little voice whispered inside my head. I realized now that voice was coming from my oak tree. Maybe it had all along.

But the magic , I protested.

No .

"Meadow. Time is of the essence."

With a huff, I yanked the empty amazonite pendant and the Celtic shield from my neck, opened the bag just a crack, and made sure I didn't reveal Sawyer to the rest of the world as I fed the necklaces inside between his paws. He gave me a startled glance and shook his head vehemently. Thistle thorns, him too?

"Trust me," I mouthed.

He gulped, then hunkered down.

Though Ossian held out his hand, I placed the bag on the ground and stepped through the strap, effectively slinging it around my ankle without actually touching it.

"Meadow," he began.

"For once in your life, leave me alone about the bag! It's off, I'm not touching it, and we're not arguing about it." My hands perched on my hips like two ornery crows spoiling for a fight. "Now, the portal?"

Ossian clenched his jaw for a beat, then rolled his broad shoulders. "Of course." He stepped forward, taking hold of my elbow. The warmth of the golden haze bloomed against my mind. "Let us be calm, love, and focused to the task."

I nodded, letting the irritation drain away. Thistle thorns, was it the severity of the task I was about to perform that had me always spoiling for a fight with him nowadays?

He crooked his finger under my chin. His eyes deepened, his voice lowering, and once again, I was dumbstruck by his beauty. "Do you love me, Meadow?"

"You've stolen my heart," I whispered.

He smiled before planting a surprisingly soft kiss against my lips. "Then you're ready." His feet crunched on the frosted clover as he stepped behind me, his hands guiding my arms upwards as if to beseech the sky. "It's an incantation in Faerish, so listen closely and repeat after me."

It was so similar to Gaelic that I didn't have much trouble, and after my third repetition, Ossian nodded in approval, his cheek rubbing against mine. "Now simply infuse the incantation with your magic and don't stop until the portal is anchored to the ground. You'll know it when an archway of white light appears. If it helps you to focus on something, pick a star in the sky and imagine yourself pulling it down to the earth. It will be like that."

Ossian tilted his head to kiss my cheek, touching my elbows once more to ensure my arms were reaching for the sky in a narrow Y , then backed away. "Do it, love. Let me go home."

Green light glowed from my hands as I chose a star in the sky. There were so many, now that they could shine without interference from the moon, and mine was from the constellation we witches called Brigid: Teallach, the brightest star, known as the hearth ember . The irony of my choice wasn't lost on me, and I embraced it fully. Drawing Teallach to me would herald a homecoming of sorts, a new life and a new hearth in a new home.

Magic infused my voice as I began to chant the Faerish words.

The effect was immediate. I felt a pull, like a fish on a line, and this one not wanting to be caught. I'd been informed the fae portal was like oil and my mortal realm like water, but its resistance seemed more visceral than instinctual. It did not want Ossian home.

Too bad.

A wind rose around my ankles as I spoke the incantation again. I ignored its cold sting and focused on my star, drawing it ever closer. On the third, the power in my hands morphed from its deep emerald green to a pale mint as I hooked the portal.

"You're doing it, Meadow!"

I barely heard him.

The portal wasn't corporeal yet, but I had its essence now, and the true drain on my magic began. It resisted every inch, and I sank into a crouch as I reeled it towards this mortal plane. But it wasn't like a fish as I'd originally thought. It was an electric eel.

Power shot down the connection, burying into me and rooting like crabgrass. I shuddered but didn't stumble over the Faerish words. If anything, I said them even louder, stronger, for I realized now why this portal hadn't been successfully summoned in all the years Ossian had walked this earth. This was a feat of stamina and endurance that would claim my life if I failed. There would be no second chance. The power of the portal was not the forgiving type. Once caught, it had to be anchored.

There was no time to fear. There was only time to do .

Indomitable will manifested as a ferocious roar that ripped through my throat, and thick ropes like green-white lightning burst from my hands. Between one blink and the next, they'd seized around a ball of crackling white light. A sweet, floral scent suddenly saturated the air.

Elfame. We were halfway there.

"Anchor it, Meadow! Anchor it so the portal can open!"

The portal jerked at his words.

Infest me like crabgrass? I snarled at it, loathing the way the fae portal sucked and pulled at my magic, intent on draining me first before it could touch the mortal earth. It was no better than that demon's half-heart tentacle-esophagus that had plagued my coven.

The green-white lightning crackled and snapped as I dragged the portal closer to the ground, lashing out with vines of light. They're like silver mallaithe roots seeking water , I mused darkly. Best not deny them.

The portal thrashed violently as those roots plunged into the frosty clover, burrowing deeper and deeper until the hundreds of little strands had sent out hundreds more of even tinier feeder roots. Then they thickened, braiding and weaving together until only one stump remained. A pedestal. The fae magic governing the portal didn't like its mortal prison one bit and tightened the crabgrass infesting my core, squeezing me like a constricting hand on my heart.

With a cry, I fell to my knees.

" NO! " Ossian screamed.

I almost lost hold of it then, so agonizing was its resistance, but I gritted my teeth and hung on.

I wasn't summoning this portal just for Ossian. This was my second chance, my new life away from the venomous prejudices of my family. I needed Elfame. And I was going to get it, one way or another.

Golden-green sparks flew from my cuffs as I summoned my battle magic. If this portal wanted a fight, I'd give it one. Its crabgrass had only infested the trunk of my oak tree, not its glowing heart, and that heart turned from gold to a dark, feral green in the blink of an eye. The portal's hold on me shriveled.

Thorny vines twisted around the lightning in my hands, racing upwards like rabid snakes. They coiled around the portal, constricting tighter and tighter until, with a vicious yank, they slammed it down onto the stump-liked pedestal.

Thunder cracked with a blast of light, but I only slitted my eyes against the blinding pain. I was not releasing the focus Grandmother had instilled in me until I had absolute confirmation that the portal was anchored and Elfame was on the other side.

I was still blinking away spots, magic coursing weakly from my fingers, when Ossian's hand melded over my shoulder. "Y-you did it." His voice was a mixture of awe and disbelief and maybe a little fear. "Let go, Meadow. Regain your strength."

"I… have to… see… for myself." Shaking my head, I dashed my vision clear.

And there, not even a stone's throw away, was an archway. I would've said it was made of the finest silver, maybe even white gold, but that would've been a lie. It was pure light, molded and shaped into the most stunning filigree. An opalescent veil filled the archway, partially obscuring the view of the other side but allowing the sweet scent of dew-covered grass and wildflowers to drift through.

"Elfame," I whispered.