Chapter 30

Thirty

Rhoswyn

“ W e’re going after him,” I say, looking straight at Drystan as I say it to make sure he understands that this is non-negotiable. “He did the same for you when you were captured. I want to leave now.”

I’m striding back across the camp in the mushroom ravine, my steps determined, with the rest of my males surrounding me like a flock of grumpy hens. Deep in my gut, guilt churns. We had a restful night, sleeping safely in a little cave while Caed was battling Fomorians alone and was captured.

“The bear shifter didn’t see which way he was taken. We don’t even know where he is.” Drystan tries to reason with me, but I shake my head.

“I feel the Call to him too, remember?” My confidence is boosted by the way Lore is checking all his knives, ready to go. “He’s northwest.”

Even Jaro and Bree aren’t arguing, and Drystan seems to realise that at the same time I do, glowering at both of them.

It hasn’t escaped my notice that it’s the same direction that Uther and his battalion were last spotted heading in.

“Stupid Fomorian getting his ass caught,” the redcap grumbles. “I had plans for this evening.”

“You and me both,” Drystan snarls.

“Oh, really?” I raise my brows at them. “What plans?”

“At the moment? Spanking your ass red for rushing headfirst into danger for a damned Fomorian.” A cart of cabbages catches fire a few paces away and an anguished shout rises from beyond it.

“Shit,” Bree pales and grabs my arm. “Walk faster and don’t look back.”

I open my mouth to ask why, but his reasoning becomes abundantly clear when a gnome launches himself over the flaming cart and straight at Drystan, knives out.

His green eyes are wide with a crazed light, and I grimace as Bree ushers me away from the burning vegetables like our lives depend on it.

“You torched my cabbages!”

Drystan, for once in his life, looks truly afraid as he tries to fend off the two-foot-tall menace that’s trying his best to stab him. “Otis, calm?—”

“Do you know how much effort I put into those!” The gnome stabs down, tearing the fabric of my dullahan’s shirt but not managing to draw blood. “I was the prize winner of the largest vegetable in Illidwen for three years running!”

He’s spiting with fury, little bubbles of it getting caught in his bushy yellow beard and braided hair. His skin is covered with tattoos of different plants, and I think I even spot a little carrot shaped golden earring hanging from one ear.

“Beautiful vegetables, too.” Lore nods frantically, edging away from Drystan towards us.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Jaro agrees, sidling past the duo.

“Fucking traitors,” Drystan snarls, but is too busy trying to divert a blade that’s heading for his neck.

“Don’t you think you ought to help him?” I ask, cringing as my dullahan takes a foot to the windpipe.

Lore shakes his head frantically, taking my other elbow and doubling our already frantic march up the mushroom stairs.

“Don’t be silly, little pet. Otis is insane.”

Hearing that come from my redcap makes my brows rise into my hairline.

“All gnomes love gardening, but he…” Bree trails off with a shudder. “The things I’ve heard…”

“Oh Goddess?” Jaro mutters. “She doesn’t want to know. I didn’t want to, and now my mind is forever tainted.”

But Lore instantly understands. “Do you mean that time when he got so excited at the size of one of his leeks that he tried to fit it up his?—”

“Yes.” Bree’s tone is hard, but his lips are pressed together in stifled mirth. “That. And… the turnip incident. Most of the whores in Siabetha disappear whenever he turns up in case he asks them to bring celery into the bedroom.”

“Don’t forget the time he took a trip to the Summer Court in the third era and discovered pineapples,” Jaro pipes up helpfully.

My cheeks flare pink as we finally reach the top of the ravine. “Are you saying he?—”

“Does perverse, deviant things to innocent little vegetables both cooked and raw, and waters them with suspiciously salty water?” Lore glances around him like he’s waiting for the gnome to reappear. “Only when he’s excited. The rest of the time, he realm-hops looking for whatever poor creature is fated to be his mate and scaring little children by putting potatoes in their socks.”

“He’s infamous,” Jaro completes, looking over his shoulder again, like he’s afraid of the gnome coming to get him. “And terrifying.”

“And you abandoned me to deal with him!” Drystan huffs, running up the stairs behind us like he’s being chased by a pack of barghests.

His normally carefully arranged braids are in a mess, his clothes ripped in multiple places, and his eyes are blazing with the fire that got him into trouble in the first place.

And I can’t help it.

I giggle. Loudly.

One little gnome has really sent my grumpy Guard into such a state? I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself.

Drystan seizes me in the next instant, pressing my back to the earthen wall of the ravine as he cages me with his body.

“Something funny, huntress?” His voice has gone husky, deep with danger and something else that makes fire streak through my veins and moisture pool in my underwear.

I suck my cheeks in as I try my best to contain my smile, but it doesn’t work.

A second later, I give in altogether. “I was just wondering whether I should invite Otis to court to help me keep you in line.”

Lore’s cackle is bright enough to draw every nearby eye, and Drystan’s ears catch fire, but it doesn’t stop him leaning in until his lips are at my ear. His breath brushes against my neck a second before he says.

“When we get back from this ridiculous rescue mission, you’ll regret that.”

I shiver, the dark promise in his words not helping the goosebumps springing to life across my skin. Instead, finding a boldness I didn’t know I possessed, I look up and hiss out a breath as he catches the sensitive point of one ear between his teeth and bites down.

Goddess. I think I just came.

“Come.” Jaro interrupts. “The horses are waiting.”

“I can’t believe you’re going through with this.” Drystan steps away and rights his clothes with jerky hands. “The Fomorian?—”

“Was captured saving the lives of two shifters. One of whom was a child.” Jaro’s eyes glint with the presence of his wolf. “His actions were honourable, especially considering that his own kin rejected him so viciously just hours before.”

And now Jaro’s own honour won’t allow him to let Caed suffer for it. I smile softly at my shifter and move into his arms, tiptoeing to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw before moving back.

Then I pause, smile slightly, and flutter my wings just enough to send me airborne, eliminating the height difference between us so I can kiss his lips properly.

“I’m supposed to be practising,” I explain when he gives me a bemused look.

“Well, you can practise plenty on the way.” Bree’s fingers trace over his valravn tattoo, and his own wings slip free.

I almost expect Drystan to argue, but he only says, “Keep her safe up there.”

“Of course.”

Bree takes off with a flex of powerful muscles and a mighty gust of wind that makes me wonder if he isn’t quietly showing off, and I give the rest of my mates tiny kisses before following in a much less dramatic fashion.

I’m not as fast as my púca, and it shows as I struggle into the dusky sky behind him.

“I need to get better at this,” I mutter.

“You will.” Bree maintains an easy distance, just far enough that the movement of air from his huge wings won’t knock me off course. “Don’t try to stay in the air for too long, either. When you get tired, ride with the others. Speed and stamina come with time.”

To be honest, I’m just grateful I’m finally in the air. The lack of functioning wings has been weighing on me ever since I came to Faerie, and now here I am, flying .

“I want to race you,” I admit, grinning. “But I’m afraid I’m not much of a challenge.”

Bree chuckles under his breath. “Dragonfly, if you ever beat me in a race, it’ll be because Lore has sabotaged the competition. Now if we play tag, I think you’ll find your wings make you unstoppable.”

He’s less burdened up here, I realise with a smile. Not carefree—I doubt he’ll ever reach that point, given his history—but a smidgen more relaxed. His ears aren’t twitching constantly at every little sound, and his body language is looser.

“Then I want to play tag as soon as possible,” I murmur, glancing down to find that the others have already started riding.

Bree and I glide alongside them, my púca flying easy circles around me until dark has well and truly fallen and I finally give in to the aching muscles in my back, drifting down to land beside Wraith.

Lore wastes no time snatching me up and seating me on the saddle behind him, letting me snuggle against his back.

I wish I could nap, or at least doze, but Danu is restless beneath my skin. My bond to Caed is quiet, too quiet. Dread forms a heavy cloud over me, and it doesn’t dissipate, even as we draw closer.

It takes a day of travel until we reach the huge, barren waste where once mighty trees must’ve stood. An army of rotting stumps poking up from the mud is all that remains of the great northern forest, and my Guard chooses to backtrack, keeping to the cover of the trees as much as we can while still following the Call.

Eventually, we have to stop to make camp. I want to keep going, even though it’s too dark to see much, but Jaro makes the point that we’re no use to Caed if we’re sleep deprived.

We’re close enough that we leave the camp as it is when we head out the next day. It’s barely an hour’s walk until we catch sight of the Fomorian camp, nestled along the banks of a fast-flowing river.

“So, what do we do now?” I ask, staring across the deadened space in dismay.

That wooden palisade is imposing, but nowhere near as much as the iron spikes sticking out of the grey mud in front of it and the screams and yells coming from within.

“I thought you were a warrior queen now.” Drystan leans back against the tree, raising a sardonic brow. “Ready to rush in and save the day.”

Take a breath. Count to ten. Do not snap.

“I’m asking for your advice, because I know I’m not.” Letting out a sigh, I meet his eyes. “That place is full of iron. If I try rushing in there, you’ll just have to save me.” Which would only prove his point.

“Bree.” Jaro nods at the púca. “Can you fly over and let us know what we’re up against?”

I shoot both of them a grateful glance as Bree’s wings brush over my skin before he takes to the skies in a burst of black feathers that disappear under a strong glamour the second he breaks the treeline.

“Now we wait?” I ask, worrying my lower lip between my teeth.

“Unless you want to do the fun thing and just rush in?” Lore asks, hopefully, offering me a familiar dagger. “If you time it right, it can be brutal and effective.”

His eager grin makes me shiver. “I think I’m good. Maybe next time?”

I’d like to sneak Caed out with minimal bloodshed. That’s probably a na?ve thought, given the sounds coming from the place.

“Wait.” Jaro’s whispered word cuts off my thoughts. “The gates are opening.”

I peek around the tree, watching the immense gates as they shudder and swing outward. Without thinking, I take a step forward, something in me tugging me fully out of cover.

So my view is unimpeded when a lone figure appears, shoving both gates open single handedly. His head hangs low with the strain, and from this distance, I can barely make out any of his features beyond his short hair and blue skin.

It doesn’t matter. I know it’s him.

“Caed.”