Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

D ressed as Auberon's black-clad messengers, we ride through the cold night, our horses kicking up sprays of snow. I wear a bow and a quiver, but even fully armed, galloping through the darkness on icy terrain is a never-ending exercise in managing fear.

Brocéliande's silver moon is a slim crescent, hardly casting any light. The red moon is half full, shading the landscape in an otherworldly, blood-hued glow. Crimson glints off icicles that hang from the trees. In this lighting, it's impossible to distinguish among hollows in the path, black ice, shrubs, and rocks. Every few minutes, my horse—a nervous brown stallion—stumbles, and my heart stutters. But we have to keep up the relentless pace if there's any chance of getting the warning to the allies in time.

Ysolde knows this land best, and she takes the lead.

In the cold air, I'm out of breath, and my lungs whistle, tightening. I pull out my inhaler and take two puffs before they start to release a little.

My mind whirls as we race across the landscape. I hope everything is in place.

We have to ride a few more hours northeast, where we'll meet a connection of Meriadec's. That's where we'll get fresh horses. Then, we'll ride on to Penro, where we can travel through the portal to Scotland.

Meriadec should be heading back to the fake farm. If the prince wakes and starts searching for me, that'll be the first place he looks.

Somewhere in the distance, a screech rends the air, maybe the death cry of fallen prey. Whatever it is, it sends my horse veering sideways in a panic. My heart races, and I lean down to soothe him with soft whispers. I manage to get him back on track, following behind Ysolde.

I'm not shrieking out my own death cries yet, but I feel nearly as hunted as that creature. At any moment, we could hear the earth-rumbling sound of a Fey legion charging after traitors.

Our disguise won't hold under close scrutiny, and Raphael and Ysolde aren't glamoured like I am.

Something snaps to my left, and I reflexively reach for my bow, but there's nothing there, just the sounds of the night. I lean closer to my horse as we ride. "Nothing to worry about," I whisper to him, trying to reassure myself. "There's no one after us. You're a good horse."

He snorts, his ears twitching. I've fallen behind, and I spur him on to catch up with the other two.

Dawn breaks, coral blooming in a lavender sky. Rose gleams off icicles and blushes over the snow.

Exhaustion burns through me, and our horses slow to a canter down a narrow trail.

Somehow, I've ended up in the front, and I glance back at the siblings. They look as tired as I feel, slumping over their horses. Turning around, I see a churning, icy river ahead, flecked with amber in the morning light. I pull my horse to a halt.

Raphael stops by my side. "Well, fuck."

"What?" Ysolde mumbles behind us.

"I don't think you know this area as well as you think, sis," Raphael says. "You've led us to a river."

The water is clearly too deep for the horses to cross, and we'd probably all freeze to death if we tried.

"We'll have to find a point to ford." I swallow hard. "Maybe if we ride upriver for a few kilometers…"

"We don't need that," Ysolde says, urging her horse forward. "I know exactly where we are, and it's where I wanted to be. And there's nowhere better to cross up or down the river for at least half a day of riding."

"Then how do we cross?" I ask. "Do you have a hidden raft or something?"

"No. Give me a minute." She inhales and shuts her eyes.

I exchange glances with Raphael. He frowns, and his expression doesn't reassure me. What's going on right now? It looks like she's fallen asleep on her horse.

And then, to my utter shock, I see the water in front of us grow shallower, rushing away in either direction. Impossibly, a gap appears, wide as a horse, and in that gap, the water seems to be draining.

My jaw drops. "Holy shit."

"You have water magic," Raphael says, his amazement mirroring mine.

"Yes," Ysolde says. "It developed late. I didn't know until my early twenties."

"You're like a Fey Moses," I say in wonder.

Ysolde glances back at me, frowning. "What is a Mo-zets?"

"It's an ancient story," Raphael tells her. "The humans say a man parted the sea once. And he also summoned a rain of frogs, I believe."

"Why would anyone want to rain frogs?" Ysolde asks.

"Well, it was one of ten…you know what? It's actually a long story," I say. "I'll tell you all about it one day."

She scowls at us. "I cannot control frogs, nor do I want to. And I wouldn't be able to part an entire sea. Mo-zets sounds very powerful."

"I suppose he must have been," I say. "But this is seriously amazing, too."

She pulls her horse ahead of us. "I can push the water to a point. Follow directly after me. If you stray too far, your horses will be swept away by the current, and you'll both drown in glacial water. So, don't do that."

With that reassuring comment, she guides her horse into the parted water. Raphael follows close behind.

My horse is of the firm opinion that no, this is not a good idea. Nope, nope, nope.

"C'mon, horse," I whisper at him. "After the night we've gone through, you've totally got this." Soothingly, I rub his neck, whispering reassurances to him, until he follows behind Raphael's horse.

It's one of the strangest experiences I've been through. Cold river spray mists around me. As I travel through, the river closes up behind me, churning and frosting my back with water droplets. At last, to my horse's relief and mine, we reach the other side. I turn back to see the roaring river fully restored.

"That was incredible," I say, "and I hope to never repeat it."

Raphael is looking at his sister with new-found awe.

She rubs her eyes, exhausted.

"Come on," I say. "Meriadec's contact shouldn't be far off by now. We'll get some fresh horses there."

I glance up at the sky, and my stomach clenches as I see the sun rising higher above the horizon.

Our road is lined by snowy, spindly trees glazed with ice. Delirium swims in my thoughts as we exchange our horses with the contact. These animals seem thinner and older than those from the tavern. Mine constantly lags behind and stops to rest every now and then.

Ysolde, who doesn't have our training, looks to be in worse shape than Raphael and I do. At one point, she breaks into exhausted sobs.

As the sun rises higher in the slate-gray sky, Raphael gets in front of Ysole. Taking her horse by the reins, he leads the way, and Ysolde slumps in her saddle, fast asleep. I keep worrying that she'll topple off her horse, but she somehow stays on.

As the road widens, I bring my horse alongside Raphael and groan. "My ass is one giant bruise."

"That's quite the image." He arches an eyebrow. "But I know you'll get through this because I've seen you stabbed through your gut and trapped in a nightmare where you were drowned. I've seen you attacked by the veil itself. So, you'll be fine with a bruised arse, pixie princess."

I glare at him, and we ride in silence. His use of that nickname brings back many memories—our kiss in the lake after we jumped off the bridge, the nights we spent in a room watching Caradoc, and the lavender cake Raphael gave me. But they feel a lifetime away, and it's clear to me that as bittersweet as those memories are, that's all they are now.

Raphael clears his throat. "You shouldn't return to Brocéliande after this mission."

"I have to. As long as I'm in Perillos, I can help turn the tide of the war. If I weren't there, close to the prince, we wouldn't have any of this information."

"It's too dangerous, even for an agent with many years of experience. And Avalon Steel or not, you're still new to this. Before I was thrown into their dungeons, maybe I'd have gone along with it." There's a pained, ragged edge to his voice that makes my throat tighten. "But after…" He trails off.

I swallow hard. "I know it was brutal."

"They shouldn't risk your life like this. They shouldn't ask you to risk what I endured. It's worse than you can imagine, Nia. And Talan already suspects there's a spy. How much longer until he figures out it's you? That man is a monster. He's from the House of Morgan, and he'll destroy us all. Exactly like the prophecy says."

My heart skips a beat. He's certain of that point, isn't he? "Do you really believe in prophecies?"

"Yes."

I clear my throat. "I know he's a monster, and maybe I'm the only one who can stop him. Who else will?"

His jaw tightens. "If I have to, I'll talk to Sir Kay about pulling you off the mission. You cannot end up in their dungeons."

I glare at him, frustration flaring. "And how many more will we let get captured by the Fey army, brutalized by their torturers? I'll die when it's my time. Let me live my life the way I decide. And for now, let's focus on looking for the portal."

"I know there are things you aren't telling me, Nia."

My jaw tightens. Oh, just a little niggling detail about that prophecy you hold so dear.

"Let me focus. I should be able to sense the portal with my Sentinel powers." I close my eyes and concentrate. "I can feel it…tugging at me. There's…something here."

I look around me, my magic humming within. It's definitely here, but it doesn't feel like the ley portal. This feels more artificial, somehow, a portal that has been forced into existence with powerful magic.

"There!" I point to a fairy ring of mushrooms washed with gold in the sunlight. In the center of the circle is a faint tear between the worlds, and I can feel its power vibrating over my skin, raising the hair on the back of my neck. I imagine Auberon standing here, ripping this portal open.

"Are you sure?" says Raphael. "All I see is mushrooms."

"It's a Sentinel thing," I say. "But you see how they're in a ring and growing even through the snow? Always good to look for a Fey portal there."

I dismount, my legs aching with fatigue. Raphael follows my lead, and Ysolde slumps off her horse, half-awake. We cross into the circle of mushrooms and stand huddled together, Ysolde resting her head against Raphael's arm.

Shivering, I pull out Talan's key and turn it over in my hands. Does it need a magical phrase of some sort?

But even as I ask myself that question, the key crackles in my hand.

Power buzzes over me, and the portal blooms, swallowing us whole. The snowy landscape flickers away.