"Tomorrow, before the kuruno."
"It's a deal."
We finished the meal in silence. Kalisha’s excitement was palpable, and seeing her smile warmed something inside me. Perhaps being akra’yn wasn't so bad after all. Maybe I could use this position to help my new friend.
Chapter 15
Malek
The acrid smell of smoke invaded my senses, keeping me on high alert as we advanced through the northwestern region of Marukoksha, the same path where Kreshak had seen Grìosach's soldiers pass. Unlike the Fae of Ceilte, whom we had fought for centuries, those of the Autumn Court cared little for the forest or the need for discretion.
They invaded sacred lands with troops and beasts, felling trees to feed bonfires and leaving waste behind; nothing in the sacred woods held any value to them. As far as I knew, the only thing that truly mattered to them was their precious golden forest and their cursed court. Despite being our enemies, the Fae of Ceilte at least saw the forest—Eldaerenth, as they called it—as something worth protecting.
We had been walking for days, me and the best trackers of Oksha: Uthak, Grik, Kreshak, and Ni’kira. They could scent a squirrel from miles away, read the damp soil like an open book, and recognize an invader's trail at a single glance. By the weight of a step and the track left in the earth, they knew how to tell whether it belonged to a High Fae or a lesser one.
We moved like shadows, silent and swift, our eyes sweeping the dense woods. I was less subtle than they were, but I kept alert for the scent of churned earth, worn leather, and the sickly-sweet perfume of the High Fae that lingered ahead.
Grìosach’s Fae were too vain to think about survival. They wore clinking armor and orange fabrics that didn’t blend with the forest's green.
Uthak, the eldest tracker, raised his hand in a closed fist. We all froze immediately, our bodies tense. He crouched, pressing a hand to the ground, eyes narrowed in focus.
"Recent," he murmured. "No more than an hour. About two hundred Fae."
I frowned, mind spinning with possibilities. Though Ceilte was allied with the two Courts bordering Lyraen, a convoy this large rarely crossed these lands. My stomach churned at what it could mean.
The others exchanged glances, apprehension growing amidst the stillness of the forest. Ni’kira pursed her lips, her sharp gaze fixed on the trail.
"What would they be doing here?" Grik, the youngest of the group at only forty springs, asked in a low voice. "They’re too far from home."
"A hunt, perhaps?" Kreshak suggested.
I shook my head. The Autumn Court didn’t hunt this deep into Marukoksha. Their habits were predictable, their movements limited to the edges of the forest, where sunlight was more abundant and the hunting easier. A group this size, advancing deep into the woods, meant only one thing.
"They’re going to Ceilte," I said, instinctively gripping the hilt of the long knife at my waist.
Ni’kira frowned. "That makes no sense, Ruk’hai. Grìosach and Ceilte are allies. Why would they cross our lands with a troop like that?"
It was a valid question. The High Fae of the Courts avoided Marukoksha. The forest was the largest in Tir Na Sì, and acted as a living barrier between rival territories. If Autumnwished to attack Winter, they would have to cross the woods or go around by sea.
In the ancient wars, before Lyraen became neutral territory, many Fae had died there. Their bodies were never recovered, swallowed by roots and silence. The trees grew over forgotten armor, nourished by soil steeped with memory and blood.
Since then, Marukoksha has been feared—except by the Fae of Ceilte. Not because of empty legends, but because they knew the truth: the forest was alive. It watched, remembered, and reacted. Those who entered with no respect rarely left, and when they did, they never returned the same.
“They’re marching.” My tone allowed no argument.
“But against whom?” Kreshak frowned, his green eyes—so like Kroshak’s—searching mine. “They wouldn’t dare attack us in our own lands. That would be foolish.”
“Ceilte,” I said.
Shock spread across my trackers’ faces. The alliance between the two Fae Courts and Ceilte was ancient, a pact that ensured peace among them and allowed them to focus their strength on containing the orc clans, such as Oksha.
"If Autumn is moving against Ceilte..." Grik began, his implication clear.
A war between the Fae Courts—a rupture in the alliance that had kept the balance of power for centuries.
"The King of Grìosach has held a grudge against Alasdair for years," Uthak said, crossing his arms. “We always knew the peace was fragile.”
"But why now?" Ni’kira pressed.
