The archers dip their arrows, then raise them, now writhed in flame. They pull back, aiming straight at—
Farron.
Abandoning my position, I sprint toward the brown wolf, shouting at the top of my lungs. “Stop! Don’t shoot!”
They don’t hear me. Swift arrows of fire fly down, embedding in the wolf’s body. He snarls, and his eyes flash with pain. His focus shifts from the goblins to the golden soldiers.
“This creature isn’t a danger to you!” I yell as a soldier prods the beast with his spear. Farron swipes out a paw, sending the soldier flying.
“He’s not a danger as long as you don’t get too close!” I amend quickly, though I’m not too sure about that. The flames around him expand. What’s going to happen when he reaches the city?
“Oh fuck,” I groan.Where are you, Ez?
Soldiers surround the Autumn Prince. One aims a javelin.
“No!” Water explodes from my palm, flinging the soldier back.
Her javelin clatters to the ground, and she fixes her gaze on me, wide-eyed. “What are you doing, Prince?”
“Don’t hurt him! He’s—” Proclaiming that this monster is their bloody High Prince will not help Farron’s situation. Another member of the Autumn Guard shifts toward Farron, spear raised.
I move without thinking, blocking the soldier’s advance. I kick him away from Farron.
And unfortunately, right into the path of a goblin. The creature chitters delightedly, then drags a jagged knife across the fae man’s throat.
Shit.
Not exactly what I had in mind.
“You… You really are all in league with the Below,” the soldier on the ground gasps. Her words are loud enough, others look our way.
“No, that’s not true,” I say, backing up.
“You bear their weapons!” Another soldier points a condemning finger at me and my thorn sword. “Keldarion let the Prince of Thorns into the Winter Realm, and now you bring his monsters here!”
“No,” I shout desperately. “Just don’t hurt the wolf!”
The wolf which is right behind me, not an ounce of recognition in its blazing eyes. It swipes a massive paw and strikes me across the chest.
Pain explodes through me as I sail through the air, toppling over myself before I land in a bloody heap on the ground.
Blinking through blurry eyes, five goblins waver above me. “Quick timeout?” I croak.
One goblin arcs its toothed dagger—then pauses, mouth sputtering with black blood, as a long silver sword protrudes from its belly.
The sword retracts, there’s a swift whirl, and then all five of the goblins’ heads fall cleanly to the ground.
A gloved hand reaches down to pull me to my feet, and damn if I’ve never been happier to see the Prince of Spring in my whole life.
“Had to get your swords,” Ezryn says.
“Tardiness accepted,” I say. “Are Rosie and Kel okay?”
“Safe in her room.” Ezryn sheathes his own blade and grabs two short swords from his holster.
“My babies.” I reach for them. “I could kiss you, Ez. In a mostly platonic way. The metal throws me off a wee bit.”
But Ezryn is too still, and my attempt to escape the situation is short-lived, because I know what I’m going to see when I turn around.
