This time, the Circines noticed that something had changed. Those farther back in the crowd, hemming them in, turned.
When they did, the corpse candles ensnared them.
They stood there a few moments, oblivious to the fighting that raged around them. And then, one by one, the men and women stumbled from the clearing, following the lights. Those left behind continued to slash and stab, not realizing they were being deserted.
When only a handful of Circines remained, Mor, her Ravens, and Alar fell upon them.
Lara watched the slaughter, unflinching, but her escort didn’t. Instead, they surrounded her, all facing in, gazes lowered to avoid the lure of the lights.
Fighting alongside the Shee, Alar didn’t appear to be affected by the corpse candles either. That surprised her. Did his fae blood protect him? She remembered then that he’d been in the woods that fateful eve a year earlier when the lights had lured her into that trap; the corpse candles hadn’t bothered him then.
Eventually, the last of their attackers fell. Tattooed bodies sprawled to the ground, blood seeping into the mattress of pine needles and moss beneath them.
However, there was no time for celebration. Instead, breathing hard, faces gleaming with sweat, the party of Shee and Marav turned their mounts north once more and fled into the darkness.
14: A BLOOD DAWN
A ROSY DAWN filtered across the eastern sky, chasing away the shadows.
Watching it, Lara blinked. Where had the night gone?
Shit.It had happened again. She’d lost time. Her mind churned then, as she tried to recall their path north. However, she could remember nothing but their initial journey through the pines.
Dread settled on her chest then, a weighty sensation as if the margins of her world had suddenly shrunk. She’d never suffered from ill health before, apart from colds and fevers over the years. Never had she felt so … fragile. It frightened her.
Pulse fluttering in her throat, she leaned forward and stroked Bracken’s sweaty neck. Although she couldn’t remember the last while, the horse had taken care of her. Bracken had held fast during the Circines attack and then carried her north.
Glancing right then at where Bree rode next to her, Lara met her friend’s eye. “Well, we all lived to see the dawn … that’s something at least.”
Bree flashed her a weary smile. “Thanks to you.”
Cailean, who traveled to Lara’s left, made a sound in the back of his throat. “Aye … but it was a close thing though. Too close.” Behind him, Eithne’s face was pale and strained. Lara wondered if the sisters now regretted fleeing from Dulross.
Lara’s stomach tightened then. She understood why Alar had brought the women with him, yet Duana and Eithne shouldn’t be here. They were in the wilds now, but if they passed a village en route, they’d need to leave the lasses there—for their own good.
The Goatfells towered above them, casting long shadows across the hill they now climbed. The pinewood and the Circines lay far behind, yet they didn’t slow their pace. From this point on, any delay would cost them.
The Shee rode ahead of Lara and her escort, just as they had on the Slighe Fraoch. They’d fought side by side earlier, yet now a distance yawned between the two groups once more. The lack of trust between Shee and Marav wasn’t something that could be easily overcome. They were still aloof with each other, still sizing each other up.
She glanced over her shoulder then, half-expecting to see horses boil over the top of the hill behind them, tattooed warriors bent low over their necks. Beathan mac Glen would be incensed when he discovered what had happened to his band.
Instead, all she saw beyond where the rest of her escort traveled was a lean figure, jogging alongside a huge wolf. Now that they were out of imminent danger, Alar no longer rode upon Skaal’s back.
“I can’t believe she offered to carry him,” Bree said quietly. “Fae hounds don’t suffer such things.”
“No.” Lara cast her gaze over Skaal. She moved in long lithe strides, her thick pelt stirring in the light breeze. “But she and Alar share a bond.” She paused then, hesitating. She shouldn’t be worried about sharing Alar’s secrets, for he hadn’t guarded hers—and yet, she did. “He bears a tattoo on his chest … infused with earth magic. It draws wolf-kind to him.”
“That’s forbidden.” She looked at Cailean to find his woad-blue eyes burning with anger. “Only druids are permitted to bear such tattoos.”
“It was a former sacrificer, I believe … who inked him,” Lara replied, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. There was enough tension within their group as it was without her making things worse.
The chief-enforcer’s eyes narrowed. He then cut a glare at Alar. “That explains much,” he growled.
Lara could almost taste his resentment. Cailean’s bond with Skaal was a special one. Although now he knew why the fae hound was smitten with Alar.
Her attention traveled once more to her husband. Sweat gleamed on his cheekbones, and strands of dark hair stuck to his face. If he’d run since leaving the pinewood, he’d demonstrated considerable endurance. No doubt the earth magic helped with that, as did his Shee blood.
“The Shee are stopping,” Bree announced then. Lara turned forward once more to see that, indeed, the knot of elks and stagshad slowed at the crown of the hill, their proud silhouettes outlined against the dusky morning sky.
