“I know how to fight—”
“He would be trying to protect you, instead of himself.” Chandi’s voice was flat. “Don’t forget—if he dies, we die too. We need to get to the Willow Gate.”
Chandi set a brisk pace, threading a path known only to her. We passed pale-skinned ash trees crowned in silver. Waterfalls that sounded like the laughter of children. Gold-veined crystals the size of houses jutting out of the earth. We scrambled down a rocky escarpment that ate pieces of our gowns and skinned one of my calves. Worry pounded through me all the while.
Finally, we passed some invisible boundary and Chandi stopped abruptly, the line of her shoulders relaxing briefly before she rounded on me.
“What were you doing parading around with him like that?” Her amber eyes were ablaze. “I warned you not to get too close to him.”
I set my jaw. “And I appreciated the warning.”
“But you chose to ignore it.”
“I chose—” I rubbed a hand over my forehead. My leg hurt, and I needed to get out of this dress. I didn’t have to explain myself to her. “I chose to use the information to my advantage.”
Chandi’s voice rose. “What advantage?”
“I need him, all right?” I hissed.
“Forwhat? You’re here to break the geas on us, not fraternize—”
“That’s not why I’m here,” I interrupted, and Chandi fell silent. “Rogan or Iwillfind a way to break the geas cursing you as swans. But that’s not why I’m spending time with Irian.”
“The Sky-Sword.” Understanding swept over her face, followed by betrayal. “For yourself. That’s why you wouldn’t give it to Eala.”
“Not for myself.” I motioned for her to keep her voice down. “For thequeen. ForFódla. To feed her people, to vanquish the plague, to defeat the sea raiders.”
“So you’re hoping if you tryst with him, Irian willgiveyou the damned thing? Because that’s never going to happen.”
“I’m trying to figure out how totakethedamned thingwithout sacrificing all your lives and Fódla’s future in the process.” I blew out a breath. “The Sky-Sword must be renewed at Samhain, otherwise its wild magic will go free, the Gates will fall to the mercy of the bardaí, and chaos will reign in both realms. Irian plans to sacrifice his life to ensure that never happens. But if he dies,youdie. And I can’t letthathappen.”
“Fine. But unless you think swapping saliva with a Gentry heir is going to break our geas, then I still have no idea what you’re doing getting so close to him.”
The sound of heavy footfalls turned both our heads. A towering dark-haired figure appeared from nowhere, stumbled on a root, then sagged against a tree.
Irian’s mantle was torn, his armor badly damaged. Blood drenched him, and at least some of it was his—silver rivulets dripped down his mantle and spattered the sharp angle of his cheek. I hitched up my skirts and ran toward him.
“Irian,” I breathed. “Are you hurt? Did you—”
He barely looked at me. His gaze focused over my shoulder. “Chandika?”
“Yes?”
“A moment alone, please.”
She hesitated. I gave her a small nod. I was fairly certain she rolled her eyes at me before withdrawing into the forest.
“What happened back there?” I demanded. “Did the bride’s family…?”
“Know this, colleen—it was never my intention for this night to end in violence.” He coughed, doubled over. His arm snaked around his ribs. “Another time, I might have let them live. But they tried to hurtyou. So I killed them all.”
He closed the distance between us and caught me around the waist. I suddenly remembered everything I knew about him. Things I had told myself to remember but had begun to forget. Things he had told me in his own words.
Here, we are all villains.
He was wild and wicked. Dangerous. I should be terrified of him. And the shrinking human part of me was.
But the other part of me? The part made from thorns and venom and bad omens?
