Chapter 26

Twenty-Six

Rhoswyn

“ S pell it out for me,” I say. “Simply. I’m not pretending to be some great tactician.”

Although Maeve is literally hovering to my right, with Prae on my left, and Mab and Titania hovering on either side, creating a wall of powerful martial females.

True to her word, my grandmother helped me claim the war room the second we woke, but she couldn’t stop the small entourage that followed us.

Most of my Guard is here, crowded on either side of us. The only exception is Caed, who Drystan glared at until he agreed to guard the door. Gryffin, Cressida, and her knight-consorts are gathered on the opposite side of the great rectangular table looking stiff-faced and stony.

“Your Nicnevin gave you an order,” Maeve prods, and Cressida clenches her jaw.

“They’ve encroached to the Silfeyn at almost all points,” Naeven finally says. “Troops led by General Reyni are just managing to hold their positions twenty leagues north of Lake Eyslin, but they’re tiring fast. Prince Uther’s battalion is still missing, despite your Guards’ efforts to find him.”

Acid pools in my gut, and I turn to face Bree and Drystan, the question swimming in my eyes.

“We didn’t want you to lose another brother,” Bree murmurs softly. “We fought near and around the area where he was last seen, but we found nothing.”

And they didn’t tell me because they wanted me to focus on my training. I understand the logic, even if I hate it. From what my other brothers have told me, Uther and his mate are both fierce warriors. They can handle themselves.

I pray they’re still alive.

Drystan sighs, waving a hand over the map, and half of the Autumn Court catches light, detailing the scale of the problem in vivid red flames.

So much land lost.

Cressida continues with a sigh. “The Torvyn has been lost to us for years. The Fomorians patrol it regularly, with camps here, here, and here.”

She points at little markers, and Drystan obligingly lights it up.

“Obviously, the western coast has seen some heavy fighting, but the forts have been weathering those strikes, and the majority of their efforts are still focused on taking land in the north.”

“And the Apporas?” Jaro asks, scrutinising the long border river between Summer and Autumn with narrow eyes.

“If Eero has truly taken the Fomorians as his allies, we can expect attacks to come from that direction sooner rather than later.” Naeven scrubs a hand down his face. “But so far, they haven’t.

It paints a truly bleak picture. Over half the court lost, and no one thought to even mention that this was an issue. They’ve all been helping me train rather than dealing with this.

But they have been dealing with it, I realise, as I recall Cressida’s words to me when we first met.

They believe their only hope now is a miracle. I’m supposed to be that miracle. They’ve been investing all this time into training me because if they don’t…

“What are your numbers like?” Maeve asks, taking over for me.

“Half what they were five years ago.” I hate the deadened tone with which Cressida replies. “And mostly focused in the north. If they hit us hard anywhere else, we’re done for.”

“If there was no hope, you’d have pulled a full retreat to one of the other courts by now,” Maeve says. “So why haven’t you?”

“Half a court is still worth defending. And we have the advantage here where the trees are thickest. We’ve had some success by sticking to skirmishes, avoiding head-on confrontations where we can, and as half my court was a swamp until recently, they struggled to make significant progress, even if the fucking mud got everywhere.”

The ground isn’t muddy anymore, I muse. Now it’s covered in a thick carpet of leaves.

“What can I do?” I ask, taking a deep breath as I prepare for the rejection.

“Get your ass back into the ballroom and keep training,” Cressida snaps. “You’re wasting time up here playing at warfare instead of working.”

“I’m not playing at warfare,” I retort. “I’m not going to sit here and tell you I know how to solve all your problems. I know nothing about strategy beyond that this”—I wave a hand at the table— “is not good. But I’ve brought multiple great military minds and potentially limitless power to the table. There has to be something we can do.”

“Can you summon and wield an entire ghost army?” Cressida demands. “Can you focus past the magic and protect yourself while you channel that ridiculous amount of power? Can you fly out of the way of the warriors you can’t beat? If you’re asking us to chuck you on a battlefield, all you’re doing is setting us up for defeat. When you die, your ghosts disappear with you, and all our warriors will be left facing worse odds than before.”

“I can try,” I argue, even as a tiny part of me cringes.

She’s right. A week’s worth of training is nowhere near enough for me to do all of those things. I’m not sure a year would be enough.

Mab frowns. “You said skirmishes were working well for you. Bringing Rose along on those would at least offer a test of her abilities without any major losses should things go wrong.”

That sounds like a plan?—

“She isn’t ready.” Cressida sits back. “You’re young. You want to leave because my actions hurt your feelings.” She scoffs. “A true queen doesn’t let something like that get in the way of what their queendom needs. Especially something as trivial?—”

“As friendship?” I interrupt. “As asking consent before forcing a sacred bond? Do you know Elatha almost did the exact same thing to me?” I hiss out the words. “You are no better than him.”

“If you’re not willing to go as far as your enemies, then you will never ever be enough to save the courts.” Cressida leans forward, white-faced with rage. “I’ve wasted a week teaching an ungrateful?—”

Her bargain chokes her, and I smile in savage satisfaction.

“We’ve enjoyed your hospitality, Queen Cressida,” I say, turning to my Guard. “But I think we’ve outstayed our welcome. When I see you and your army outside the walls of Elfhame City, I expect you’ll offer your full apologies.”

Without giving anyone else a chance to say anything, I head for the door.

“Nicnevin, please, I’d like to accompany you.” Gryffin’s request makes Prae stiffen, and I look at her.

She shakes her head, incrementally. “We can’t trust him.”

The words are little more than a murmur, designed not to carry, and I nod, turning to face the prince—though it’s difficult to see him past the wall of my Guard.

“You’re a knight of Autumn. I’m sure your duties to?—”

“My aunt will release my oath.”

Cressida’s outraged indrawn breath assures me she has no such plan. “Gryffin?—”

“No. I did as you wanted. I’ve served you for centuries, and I’ve more than made up for what I did to you and my father. I won’t lose my mate out of guilt for a child’s actions.”

He did it. He withered Cressida’s legs. I suspected, but to hear it confirmed makes my heart sink. And his father? I know Cressida’s brother is dead, but I never knew…

Prae takes my hand and squeezes it. “Your soft heart is showing again, queenie.”

Cressida isn’t so easily moved as I am. “She won’t take you back even if I release you. Your mate is other. The bond doesn’t affect them like it does us.”

It’s my turn to squeeze Prae’s hand this time. “If you could trust him, would you want him to come with us?”

Prae cocks her head to one side as she considers it. “So he and Caed can compare grovelling notes? Could be entertaining.” She looks over her shoulder. “Do I get to stab you on a daily basis?”

“If you can manage to get a hit in this time.” Gryffin can’t quite keep the edge of relief out of his voice, and it’s there, full force, when he adds, “I’ll swear any oath you ask of me. Endure any hardship.”

Prae jerks slightly, and the knowledge that he’s using their bond stirs a tiny bolt of envy in me.

I want that.

“If you can swear that oath and get your shit together in time to leave with us, I’ll consider it.” The Fomorian princess turns around, sighing as she leads the way forward.

Caed joins our group silently, expression pensive, and I grimace. I hate that Drystan doesn’t believe he should be trusted with the war plans, even as I understand it. If the dullahan is right—though I don’t believe he is—only disaster would come of it.

My mind is racing. “I want to make a quick trip to the temple shrine, then we leave.”

“You could sleep another night on it,” Drystan suggests, and I can practically hear him grinding his teeth as he struggles not to just order me to stay. “Making peace with Cressida?—”

Sighing, I look back at him. “Something in me is telling me we need to leave,” I say, solemnly. “I know this looks like some impulsive, vengeful decision, but Danu is telling me…”

“Telling you what?” Jaro asks, frowning.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I just have this sense of urgency. Like we need to move or something terrible will happen. I hoped going to the temple might help me figure it out, seeing as Kitarni is still stuck in Siabetha.”

At the reminder of my High Priestess, I cringe. I really should’ve written her a letter or something, but Lore has been checking on her, and every single time she refuses to leave with him. She insists on sorting the Temple out by following their rules, and while I trust that she knows the priesthood better than I do, I miss her terribly.

“And what’s the plan after that?” Drystan asks.

“I don’t suppose we’re going to head straight for the Winter Court along the safest route possible?” Jaro mutters, almost hopefully.

Caed snorts, but keeps his mouth shut after a quelling glare from the dullahan.

“We’re going to continue my pilgrimage,” I decide, my head starting to pound as we reach my door. “I’m sure the shrines in the forests north of the Silfeyn could really benefit from Danu’s blessings right now.”

Lore’s grin could light up the night sky, and he punches the air triumphantly. “Yes! Finally! I’ll pack all my knives.”

He blinks into the room ahead of me, landing on the bed with a grin. His red hat morphs, becoming a bucket helmet that covers his whole face as he blinks into the air and bounces on the mattress like a loon.

I cross to the wardrobe, intent on fetching the small knapsack I’ve been keeping my clothes in. The cherry wood doors are annoyingly stiff, and I struggle with them for a second before they open. My sigh of annoyance comes out like a hiss, and?—

Bree shoves me out of the way just as the door pops open. I slam to the wooden floor with bruising force as his hand snaps out in a blur.

Catching the snake mid-strike.

It hisses, furious, but Bree simply caresses the valravn tattoo on his shoulder. A second later, the bird bursts forth, snapping its beak around the serpent and gulping it down in one bite.

A golden shield surrounds me as more and more start tumbling from the wardrobe. I scramble back, but they head for me as if magnetised.

Lox swoops down, seizing another in his talons. The moment he’s out of the way, a blast of fire incinerates the rest.

“Get her out of here.” Bree is staring at the inside of the wardrobe, and a sick feeling in my gut warns me that whatever else is in there, it’s not good.

But I can’t let them shelter me from it.

Before Jaro can reach in and pluck me from the floor, I shove past Bree…

And scream.