37. Taryn

THIRTY-SEVEN

TARYN

I’d heard right. Edevane is on his way with his army of five hundred Light Warriors.

Luckily, Aine was able to shut down the region portals in time, so they’ve been forced to travel across Faerie on foot. It gives us more time to prepare, and hopefully they’ll be fatigued from the trip.

Connor and Conall have been doing daily scouting missions in wolf form to track the army’s progress. It’s already been a week since they were first spotted. At the rate they’ve been covering ground, we estimate they’ll be in Tír Tairngire in a matter of days.

Finn and I have been working on strengthening my control over my Mystic powers relentlessly since that first night. His training sessions have been grueling, yet undeniably effective. He pushes me past my fear to reach new milestones. Now I can teleport objects with precision—I eventually stopped making them explode—and can even manipulate large amounts of water with newfound confidence.

When we’re not practicing my magic, we’ve been working with Cathal—the commanding general of the Néit who used to train me and Dev all those years ago. Cathal’s rigorous combat training sessions with his warriors are getting my rusty sword skills back up to par, preparing me for any close encounters where magic is too dangerous to use.

For the past several hours, our main group has been in the war room, discussing battle strategy and working out which tactics are our best bet. There’s been a lot of back and forth and coming up with a plan only to find a weakness and start from scratch. But I think we’ve finally narrowed it down to the best one.

The holographic model of the battlefield shimmers before us, a detailed representation of where we chose to make our stand. It’s an uninhabited grassy area with few trees, hills on either side and a nearby lake. It’s our arena, and every inch of it must be exploited to our advantage.

Connor and Conall stand to my left, their expressions as fierce and determined as ever. Dmitri and Cathal flank Finn on the other side of the table, their eyes locked onto the holographic map.

“All right, let’s go over it one last time. Setting the stage,” Finn says, his voice cutting through the tension. “Any traps or obstacles have to be ready as soon as possible. Taryn, we’ll have our training sessions for your powers here from now on, using your teleportation skills to move obstacles into key positions. Large rocks, logs, anything that can create barriers or bottlenecks in the miles before they reach us. This will disrupt their formations and slow their advance.”

“Got it,” I reply, my mind racing with possibilities.

“Cathal,” Finn says, turning to the commander, “on the day of the battle, you’ll position your warriors on the hills. The high ground will give us a tactical advantage, allowing you to whittle their ranks down as they move farther into the valley.”

Cathal nods, his gaze steely. “We will be ready, Your Highness.”

Finn’s focus shifts to the main assault. “Dmitri, Connor, Conall, and I don’t have offensive magic, so we’ll lead the frontal attack with a small contingency of warriors to engage the Lights directly.”

Connor crosses his arms and scowls. “Your brothers would kill us if they knew we were allowing you to go into battle. If I had any way of communicating with them, I’d be honor-bound to inform them.”

“Then I guess it’s lucky for me that cell phones don’t work here.” Seeing how much his friend is bothered, Finn sighs. “Look, man, I appreciate your concern, but I’m a part of this.”

Conall helpfully adds, “Yeah, he’s Dark Jesus, remember?”

I press a closed fist over my mouth to prevent the bubble of laughter from escaping, because Finn doesn’t find it near as amusing as the rest of us.

He shoots a quelling look at his jokester friend. “Regardless of Moira’s hyperbole and the fact that she had visions of me helping prevent the worst from happening, I would still fight with the Fire Fae because it’s the right fucking thing to do. I might be royal, but I am not a king, so don’t try to protect me like I am. Fight with me as equals, brother, just as we always have.”

Finn extends his hand across the table and holds Connor’s gaze. After a few tense seconds, Connor reaches out and they clasp forearms, giving each other meaningful nods of acceptance. “Sorry for the interruption, man. Continue.”

“Glad we got it out of the way,” Finn says. Conall claps his brother on the shoulder for a quick show of support, and then we all refocus on the map.

“Okay, the frontal attack. Now, the Lights should have some of Taryn’s fire magic since they had to use her blood to cross the veil, but it’s possible the effects will have worn off by the time they get here. Either way, we’re hoping they won’t be stupid enough to use it in close combat and risk the friendly fire. No pun intended.”

Conall braces his hands on the table and studies the model. “If you and Dmitri engage them in the front and the Néit on the hills are taking out the ones in the middle, I think Connor and I should attack in wolf form from the back to prevent them from retreating. What do you think, Con?”

“I think it’s an excellent idea.” Connor points to the rear access points of our arena, his hand interrupting the image as it moves through the hologram. “Once they’ve passed this point, you and I can run in from here and here. They might be able to advance in the front, but we’ll keep them contained in the back.”

Dmitri’s upper lip curls in a snarl. “Anyone I encounter will meet their end at the tips of my swords. They will not advance.”

Finn nods. “That’s the idea. And last, but certainly never least,” he says, meeting my gaze, “Taryn will hang back and focus on combatting Edevane using her Mystic fire to attack from a distance.”

“Maybe,” I say, clenching my fists in frustration. “I haven’t quite gotten that part under control yet.”

Finn gives me a meaningful look across the table. “You will.”

If I had half as much confidence in myself as Finn has in me, I’d be unstoppable. No matter how long it took me to get to the next milestone or how many things I blew up before successfully teleporting them, his conviction in my abilities never wavered.

“At the very least, I’m going to do what I can to thwart his attacks with the Spear of Assal,” I say. “Aine had her historians check into the legend of the spear, and they found accounts that claim if the command Ibar is spoken, the spear will never miss its intended mark. The command Athibar causes the spear to return to the hand of the thrower.”

Cathal shakes his head, still reeling from the news Edevane has such a weapon in his possession. “Are we certain the Light King knows the commands to operate it as Lugh once did?”

I lock eyes with Finn, the image of what happened to my father at Abhaile haunting us both. Finn answers Cathal. “We’re certain.”

Trying to bolster the downshift in morale, I play devil’s advocate. “But it’s possible that the legends exaggerate the spear’s capabilities. For instance, if I teleport a boulder in front of it, will it pierce the obstacle and continue its path, or will I be able to knock it off its course? We won’t know until I try. No matter what, though, I’m going to throw everything I have at that godsdamned thing and try to take it out of commission.”

“And if things go south,” Finn adds, “we retreat to the lake. Taryn can manipulate the water to create defensive barriers, steam, and fog. The Néit warriors can use the water to enhance their fire magic, creating steam explosions and boiling water traps.”

Cathal nods in agreement. “The lake will be our stronghold. We will use it to our advantage and make the Light Warriors regret pushing us back.”

Dmitri crosses his arms over his chest. “And what of the queen,” he says. “If she is as powerful as you say, what is her part in all this?”

“We can’t risk her being anywhere near the battlefield,” I say to my brother. “If she’s within sight and Edevane uses the spear to kill her, the One True Power will transfer to him, and he’ll have won.”

“Untrue, daughter.”

Our gazes collectively swivel to where Aine is standing in the doorway to the war room. She glides farther into the room, her expression stoic as always, but her hands are wringing uncharacteristically in front of her, putting my senses on high alert.

I face her more fully and scrutinize her demeanor as I speak. “I’ve been gone a long time, but we all know how the transfer of the Power works.”

“I do not know this, sestra .”

I keep forgetting that my brother is the outsider for a change. Until now, it’s always been me learning other people’s rules and customs.

“What gives a king or queen the title of One True Ruler is that they are in possession of the most powerful magic ever gifted by the gods called the One True Power. There are two ways it can be transferred,” I explain for his benefit. “The current Ruler can bequeath it to a successor, usually done near the end of the Ruler’s natural life. Or, if the Ruler is assassinated by another fae, the Power is automatically transferred to the one who killed them.”

“Ah,” Dmitri says, narrowing his eyes at Aine. “Best to keep you out of the way then, yes?”

I mentally cringe. There’s no love lost between my mother and pseudo-brother. Each of them resents the other for the roles they’ve played in my life, and it’s a family feud we don’t have time for right now. Thankfully, Aine ignores the barb and keeps her focus on me as though Dmitri never even spoke.

“That is all true, however…” There’s a pregnant pause where she glances at Cathal, who gives her a subtle nod of encouragement. “There is no risk of me losing the One True Power, as I have not had it for some time.”

I’m stunned into silence, my brain trying to piece itself back together after she just blew it the fuck apart. Finally, I shake my head and fire back, “Then who the hell has it?”

“You do.”