Chapter 1

One

Caed

“ Y ou came,” Rose whispers.

Her violet eyes study me with the pain-filled wariness of a wounded kitten as my heart pounds in my chest, reacting to the fear and hurt that the Call is still projecting my way. Every cell in my body is screaming at me to protect her.

She’s a mess. Huddled in the hollow made by the roots of a salt-bitten tree, her skin is shredded, burned, and are those black veins on her arms? Shit, they are. She has iron poisoning on top of everything else.

She didn’t ask me a question, but she’s still waiting for me to say something. Before Rose, I would’ve blurted a sarcastic retort without hesitation, protecting my pride like a good son of Balor.

But because it is Rose, every single answer that might’ve spared my pride seems like an insult.

I’ve done enough damage to this female.

“You called.”

It’s the painful, broken truth. I’ll always come when she needs me, even when she’d rather I didn’t. I’m shackled to her by more than oaths and curses.

I wish she’d say something. Why is she here, alone on the outskirts of a forest, with none of her Guard? Is this a peace offering—a reason for me to feel hopeful—or am I her last resort?

Her eyes slip out of focus, her face slackens, and her eyes roll back in her head. All of my questions turn to ash in my mouth as she slumps forward, unconscious.

“Fuck.” I cover the distance between us in three strides.

Pulling her from her hiding place and into my lap, I grab blindly for the pouch at my waist and dig through the contents. Rations, tinderbox…

Come on. Where is the fucking thing?

I shove aside that damned sleeping draught I never used in Pavellen and slouch in relief as I spot what I’m looking for. The tiny tin glints up at me from the very bottom of my pouch. I snuck it from Prae’s rooms when we were in Fellgotha, just in case Rose managed to come into contact with iron again. It’s been in there for a while. Will it even still work?

Taking a breath—and praying to the Ancestors that I’m not about to poison her with old medicine—I slather the stinky green mess on her wrists. These wounds can only mean she was restrained with iron.

In a fae city.

What the fuck happened? Bram and the redcap said they were handling things. They swore they had reinforcements.

I stare at the black veins, willing them to disappear. Is it working?

“Caedmon-fucking-Fomorii,” Prae pants, shoving her way through the undergrowth with her sword at the ready. “What in the name of the Ancestors’ wrinkled ballsacks—Shit!”

My cousin, still wearing her fae glamour, stares at me, then at Rose, then back at me again, before she manages to pull herself together. I didn’t mean to dash out of the inn like my ass was on fire, with nothing more than what I had on and the first sword I could grab. It just… happened that way.

In hindsight, I probably should’ve explained, but the Call was so frantic I couldn’t think past the need to find Rose.

To her credit, Prae understands instantly. Her lecture dies on her lips, replaced with a concerned frown. “Was she alone?”

I nod. “Iron poisoning, Prae. Where the fuck did they get iron?”

She gives me a grim look. “I don’t know.”

“Her tracks lead this way.”

“Hurry!”

Our heads snap up. I tilt my head, silently ordering her to go back for our stuff, and she gives me a stubborn little jaw clench in return. She’ll do it, but she isn’t happy about splitting up. Understandable, given that the little queen is obviously being pursued.

I’m no fool. Eero was planning a coup, and Rose wouldn’t have called me if she had any other option, which means four Guards must have already failed to protect her today. I don’t plan on being the fifth.

The blackness slowly recedes from her wrists as I arrange her over my shoulder, keeping her there with one arm pinned over the back of her thighs. I use my free hand to signal to Prae that we’ll meet at the agreed point—an abandoned barn outside the city we discovered on our early reconnaissance—in two hours.

Long enough for her to grab our gear and bring our horses.

I don’t know what happened in Siabetha, but given the evidence and the baying of hounds headed our way, it wasn’t good.

My cousin disappears back the way she came, and I take off in the opposite direction.

“You never make things easy, do you, little queen?” I grumble under my breath.

Water. If they have scent-hounds, then we need to find a stream or something to confuse their sensitive noses. Once they’re out of the way, I’ll head to higher ground and work on losing the fae trackers. Luckily for Rose, I spent my childhood running from Elatha’s ravenous dogs and my adult life dancing circles around the fae. I can get us out of this.

Her weight bounces against my back as I run, leaving the small copse of trees behind. The rolling meadows and hills will do little to hide us, but I’m more focused on gaining distance. If they can see us, they’re too damned close.

“Caed,” she mumbles, but I don’t think she’s actually conscious.

“A little quiet right now would be helpful,” I tell her, turning left into a field thick with tall stalks of corn.

This should be enough cover for?—

“Halt!”

A fae drops to the ground in front of me, sword raised high and her butterfly wings flared wide. Her Summer Court armour has a gaudy mirror shine, reflecting a second fae as he lands behind me.

“Release the Nicnevin, Fomorian!”

Rolling my eyes, I heft Rose a little closer and draw my sword.

These two are scouts. Take them out, and we can flee before the main party reaches us.

What I wouldn’t give to have my fucking magic right about now.

I block the incoming blow, dodging the next. Shit. Rose is too close to that blade.

The next hit is definitely aimed at her. Fuck. They don’t care if she dies, which puts me at a disadvantage. I need to end this.

Tension thrums beneath my skin, kicking up my pulse until it’s frantic and loud in my ears. I reach desperately for the magic in my chest, praying for my ghost swords to ignore the Goddess’s curse and answer my desperate call.

No one is more shocked than I am when one appears. Just one—nowhere near my usual six—but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

A second sword is enough to tip the balance and put them on the defensive. The first soldier goes down with my real sword through her throat, distracted by the ghostly blade. Her comrade puts up more of a fight, striking with a fierce war cry. The blow would’ve caught Rose if not for me twisting at the last moment. Instead, it slashes through crops, felling them in a wide arc.

That seals it. He’s trying to kill her. He dies. Now.

Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. He’s unburdened and gets in a lucky swing to my free shoulder a few seconds later.

Blood spurts—mine, not Rose’s, thank fuck.

He overbalances as his blade catches on my collarbone, then wrenches it free. Well, he tries to. It’s stuck. Each tug sends a brutal bolt of pain ricocheting down my arm. Roaring, I funnel my agony and fury into my own slashing blow. He’s immobilised by his own sword. I drive mine into his ribs so hard that they crack . It’s the opening I need.

My ghost blade takes his head with an easy swing, then disappears.

The scout slumps to the ground, his head rolling away between the corn stalks. Taking a deep breath, and trying not to tense, I sheath my sword and yank the blade in my shoulder free, tearing the wound savagely.

“Fuck!” I bellow, dropping the metal with a clatter, and drawing my bleeding arm back to examine the damage.

It’ll heal, but it also fucking hurts, and now there’s a trail for the hounds to follow.

Ripping a strip from Rose’s tattered dress, I hastily wrap the wound, then cloak both of us in glamour. There’s a stream to the west, and I head straight for it. With each step, I try to reach for my ghost swords again, but they won’t reappear.

What is Danu playing at? Why give me one sword and then snatch it away again?

Fucking fairy goddess and her fucking games.

Water sloshes in my boots as I wade upstream. The pebbles underfoot are slippery, slowing me down, but my tactic works because the voices following us fade out soon after. Still, I don’t slow, taking the long route through the fields and rolling hills. At some point, when Rose begins to squirm, I rearrange her, so she’s cradled in my arms rather than hung over my back, but she doesn’t wake.

Finally, the ruined barn with its caved-in wooden roof and crumbling stone walls appears in the valley below. It’s been several hours since we split from Prae; hopefully she made it.

“Thank fuck,” I mutter.

“Are you taking me back to Elatha?”

How long has she been awake? Glancing down at her, I grimace as I note her glazed eyes and the lines of strain around her mouth. Of course that would be her first question.

“No.” I hesitate. “You’re healing.”

She looks pointedly at the blood dried over my arm. “So are you.”

So she’s not going to explain what happened? Fine. “Your fairy friends weren’t happy to see either of us.”

I kick in the door to the barn, noting Prae’s absence with a frown. She should be here by now. Shrugging it off, because she can take care of herself, I set Rose down and examine her properly.

“The worst of the iron poisoning appears to be over.” I’m talking to myself more than her. “Most of your scrapes are gone too. How are you feeling?”

She tilts her head like she doesn’t know what to make of me, then swallows and rotates her shoulders. “Sore… I don’t think my wings were really ready for flight.”

“You flew?”

That’s a good thing, right? Why does she look on the verge of tears? Fucking confusing female.

Wordlessly, I grab a pouch of nuts and dried fruit from my bag and hand it to her. It's not much, but she should eat.

“I’m not hungry. You should eat, though,” she whispers.

I shake my head, forcing the food into her hands. Her hunger is more important. She’s soft, pampered. A few days without food is nothing to me.

“When you finish that, you need to tell me what’s going on.” My tone brokers no argument. “The last thing I knew, your redcap had gone to fetch reinforcements. So how did you end up in the woods alone?”

If I’m protecting her against a threat that’s already taken out the rest of her Guard, I need to know what I’m facing. I’m alone, and ego aside, there’s only so much I can do.

To her credit, Rose swallows, takes a shaky breath, and nods, shoving a handful of food into her mouth. As she eats, her expression shutters slowly. The trembling in her shoulders eases, replaced with a rigid stiffness. Good. I don’t have the patience to deal with a weeping mess right now.

“We need to move!” Prae crashes through the barn doors just as Rose finishes the bag.

She’s got our gear, and two horses.

Wait… I don’t remember stealing a black stallion.

“That’s not my horse! And is that a head ?” I ask, frowning as I put myself between Rose and Drystan’s severed skull, so she doesn’t have to see it. “Prae, don’t?—”

“Shut up.”

The head talks—well, really, he snaps.

I don’t remember that being my experience of decapitation. Thankfully, I don’t remember anything until I woke up weeks later with a skeletal body. A moment of sympathy hits me before I realise that’s not blood dripping from the place where his neck should be; it’s shadows.

In fact, the only blood on him is the stuff dripping from a rip in his pointy ear.

Great. More fairy weirdness.

Rose, upon hearing Drystan’s voice, shoves past me on wobbly feet and rushes to where the skull is strapped to Prae’s saddle.

“You’re okay!” she cries, then freezes when she sees that only part of her dour knight is actually here with us.

“The fairies had him pinned to the palace gates under guard,” Prae explains. “They’ve let the rest of the fae back into the city to show off Eero’s victory over the ‘corrupt Nicnevin’. This was nailed up with him.” She pulls a pale red wad of fabric from her pocket and passes it to Rose, who takes it, her shoulders shaking. “The horse found me when the head whistled.”

“I have a name,” Drystan growls. “Rhoswyn, you need to get yourself away from?—”

“If you’re about to tell her to get away from us,” I growl. “I’ll remind you that I’m the only thing that stopped her from being slaughtered by her own people just now.”

“Get on the horse,” Prae growls. “Now. We need to leave. The summer soldiers weren’t happy that I took him. I think I lost the ones on my trail, but we can’t be certain until we’re far away from here.”

“Don’t you dare touch my horse!” Drystan snarls.

I shrug. “What are you going to do about it?”

Nothing. He’s a head.

Unfortunately, that’s the wrong thing to say.

My ass catches fire. Literally.

I drop to the floor, trying to smother the flames. “Fucking?—”

“ENOUGH!”

No one in the barn expects Rose to shout. Perhaps that’s why we all shut up, heads snapping to where she stands beside the black stallion.

“We don’t have time for you two to argue.” She runs the fabric over the dried blood of her arms, then tugs it over her head with watery eyes.

Oh. Oh . It’s the redcap’s hat.

It transforms slowly into a droopy looking eight piece, shrinking to fit over her ears.

“Caed is going to protect me,” she tells Drystan’s head. “I can’t ride. Once he and Prae have found us somewhere safe for the night, we’ll work on a plan to get the rest of you out of Siabetha.”

“Don’t be?—”

Rose holds up a hand. “Stop it.” Her entire frame is trembling again, voice shaky. “I need you. All of you. I won’t leave any of you behind.”

Drystan doesn’t listen. “Fomorian.” I roll my eyes at the head. “If there is a shred of honour left in your walking corpse, you’ll take her to the Spring Court, and her brother. Now.”

I look between Rose and the head, then shrug. “Last time I checked, she was the queen, not you. Now, I need that horse.”

Drystan’s curses echo through the barn as I lift our little queen into the saddle by her waist, then swing up in front of her. Her arms wrap around my middle, and I have to work to suppress a shudder.

Fuck, that buzz…

“Gentle on the reins,” Drystan lectures. “He’s not some dumb Fomorian reptile.”

“Set me on fire again, and I’ll dunk you in the nearest river,” I promise his head.

“Hurt her and I’ll scorch the skin from your bones,” he retorts.

“We don’t have time for this,” Prae growls. “Ride.”

I grab the reins and nudge the horse forward into the meadow. “If we’re split up, head for the shack by the sea.”

She nods, spurring her horse to take the lead as I throw a glamour over all of us. Goddess, this is hard. Illusions aren’t my forte, and the strain is brutal. I almost ask Rose for help, but some tiny piece of my pride refuses to admit how much I struggle with this magic in front of the dour knight.

“Now,” I say, turning to the delicate queen behind me. “What happened?”

The head sighs before answering for her. “Eero betrayed us.”

“That much was obvious. I meant, how did one minor king get one over on all four of her Guard and the Goddess incarnate?”

Rose swallows. “He had it all planned. It was a trap, and I did nothing to stop it.” Moisture is gathering in the corners of her eyes again, and it makes me want to rage.

“You’re upsetting her,” Drystan snarls.

“Let me guess,” I cut in. “You knew something was up, and you told her everything was fine?”

How much of her current state is his fault?

He must’ve suspected something. The púca, the wolf, and Rose’s brother were all missing when Bram finally agreed to meet Prae and me—was that really just this morning?

“She was worried enough, and I had it under control.”

So his fucking arrogance is the reason we’re in this mess. Why am I not surprised?

“Oh yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

“That’s it. Silence.” Prae snags the strange loose-weave bag that the head is hanging in and hooks it onto her own saddle, effectively ending the argument. “Ancestors’ bollocks. I shouldn’t have to separate you two like naughty children when your mate is in danger.”

Rose shoots my cousin a thankful look, but her hands leave my waist, killing the comforting buzz between us. I roll my eyes as I realise the reason why; our new position has given the head a view of her clinging to me, and his amber eyes are narrowed in jealousy. Rose is only separating us because she’s noticed.

I catch her hands before she ends up falling to the ground in an effort to appease his delicate feelings.

“Don’t worry, little queen. I have no plans to make you walk this time,” I murmur, deliberately pretending to misunderstand her hesitance. “I’ll be on my best behaviour. Promise.”

My gut is screaming at me that this is the only chance I’ve got. I refuse to fuck it up.