Lara tensed, her gaze flicking to where the Shee warriors had taken their places on the opposite side of the fire. Mor took her place amongst them, folding her long legs into a cross-legged position. Her lips pursed slightly as she tried to get comfortable on the stony ground, and Lara empathized. As queens, neither of them was used to ‘roughing it’.
Once they were all seated, the Shee began their supper of crispy bread, cheese, and fruit. They were also roasting chestnutsthey’d collected during the day on the glowing embers at the fringes of the fire. The sweet, nutty aroma blended with the tang of woodsmoke.
Mor sat flanked by her cousin Vyr and Wynn Sablebane.
There were no separate camps, no tents, for there were no wagons to carry rolls of hide and poles. Instead, they’d dug a large fire pit, which they’d sleep around. There would be little privacy and no soft furs on this journey. Behind them, Lara and her escort had tethered their horses, while the Shee had let their elks and deer roam free overnight. Their mounts would rejoin them in the morning. Mor’s Ravens had staked Dorka’s chain to the ground a few yards back from the fire—far from the horses that had eyed the clag-doo nervously all day. Around them burned a perimeter of flaming torches. The Sweeper had died with the dusk. The evening was still and watchful.
“You’ll need to get used to it, Ren,” Lara replied, keeping her voice low. “Shee and Marav are uneasy allies … for the moment, at least.”
The bard’s mouth pursed, while next to her, Gregor stabbed at the fire with a stick. The sacrificer held his tongue though. Lara was grateful for that.
Cailean appeared then. “I’ve laid the ward stones,” he informed them.
“Good,” Gregor grunted, rising to his feet. “I’ll go and sacrifice some pigeons.” The druid had brought two cages of the birds, strapped behind his saddle, north with him. “We need to keep the Gods happy.”
Lara was about to remind him they shouldn’t use up their resources before they reached The Uplands. However, Gregor had already stalked off, disappearing behind the row of hobbled horses.
Meanwhile, his and Cailean’s comments had drawn the Shee’s attention. Across the fire pit, gazes narrowed, and unease rippled over their beautiful faces.
“We’d rather you didn’t ward this camp … or let your sacrificer or bard weave charms,” Mor said, frowning. “Earth magic weakens us … as you know.”
“As does iron,” Cailean replied. “But we aren’t going north without our weapons either, so you’ll just have to get used to them.”
His tone was blunt, harsh even, and a stony silence settled over the fireside, broken only by the crackling of the flames and popping of chestnuts.
Mor’s onyx gaze narrowed. Meanwhile, Eagal hunched slightly upon her shoulder, as if reacting to her anger. Iron. The Shee couldn’t stand it. Just the merest touch left a terrible burn upon their skin, and prolonged exposure killed them.
Lara cleared her throat. She agreed with Cailean, yet didn’t want to lock horns with Mor so soon. “We agreed to be your allies … and won’t use earth magic or iron against you. Nonetheless, we can’t travel without protection. Especially not now.” She paused then. “Iron and earth magic will help keepallof us safe from the dangers that stalk the night.”
Mor pulled a face, and Vyr raised his eyebrows, while another of the Ravens murmured something rude under her breath.
A young female, slender as a blade, with long dark hair.
Lara stilled. Fern Sablebane. Father and daughter served in Mor’s bodyguard.
Alar will choke on this.
She hoped he would.
“No offense, but we don’t need your protection,” Vyr replied. An amused smile played on his lips now. “We have ourown methods for warding our camps.” Around him, some of the other Ravens smirked.
“Well, you use yours … and we shall keep ours,” Lara shot back, her temper rising. “I’m sure we’ll need thembothin the days to come.”
Another silence fell then, one neither party sought to intrude upon. Instead, Shee and Marav alike ate their suppers. Lara and her companions had also brought their own supplies in saddlebags. Oatcakes, dried sausage, hard cheese, and apples. The food would last them until Dulross. Hopefully, they could replenish their supplies there; otherwise, they’d be hunting and fishing for each meal for the rest of the journey.
The chestnuts were roasted, their skins dark and blistered. The Shee then handed them out to everyone.
Taking one and trying to peel it without scorching her fingers, Lara wondered if it was a peace offering of sorts. As she nibbled listlessly on the sweet chestnut—her appetite was poor these days—she noted that Mor kept stealing glances at her. The queen’s expression was speculative. Was she trying to get her rival’s measure?
Lara met her eye boldly.Underestimate me at your peril.
To her surprise, Mor smiled back.
“Where’s Gregor gotten to?” Annis drew her attention then. The counselor was brushing crumbs off her white robes. “He’s missing supper.”
“He’s likely sulking,” Ruari replied with a wince. He then rose to his feet. “I’ll go fetch him.”
The seer departed, while Lara shared a look with Bree.
