He nocked an arrow and lifted the feathered edge to his eye. He breathed in and out, steadying himself.
Suddenly, a blinding pain knocked the bow from his hands, and he tumbled face-first into the ground. He flailed in the dirt, the terrible agony roiling through his body.
“No,” he grunted, grasping at his shoulder. “Not now. Let me stop this battle please!”
I cannot let you do that. The worshippers of the great Unseelie need the enemies to fight.The voice was not of his father but someone else. Or somethingelse. Torment filled his mind until there was nothing left. Lorcan writhed on the ground, but he could no longer feel the skin beneath his hand. Darkness clouded his vision.
And then there was nothing else. Nothing but the pain.
* * *
“Lorcan?” A familiar face blurred into view, backlit by a blazing sun. The Prince of the Air Court peered down at him, his face bruised, his lips bloody.
Lorcan squinted against the light, his head throbbing. “Where am I? What happened?”
Golden eyes stared down at him. “We’re in the fields just south of the Shard. You must have gotten knocked out in the battle.”
‘The battle.” Lorcan winced. The pain in his arm had finally subsided, but everything else ached as if he had been trampled by a hundred dragons. “What happened? Did we win?”
Thane sighed and sat back on his heels. “I’m afraid we lost. We fought well, but the Shard is impenetrable. It was impossible to get through.” A pause. “Vreis survived, but he’s in bad shape. That bloody Darragh princess almost took him out. The ice king ought to put a leash on that one.”
Lorcan pushed up from the ground, his head spinning. Blood surrounded him, but none of it was his. “How many did we lose? How many died, Thane?”
A haunted look flashed across the prince’s face. “Too many. Thousands.” He shook his head. “This was a fool of a quest. It’s impossible to take the Shard, and I knew it. I let my desire for vengeance get the better of me. I’m afraid I have made a very grave mistake.”
Lorcan grasped Thane’s shoulder, squeezing tight. His voice cracked. “You are not the only one, my old friend.”
9
Six Years Later
Lorcan Rothach hated his name even more than he despised the mark on his arm. It was his father’s name. An ever-present reminder of who and what he was. And why he’d slithered his way into the Air Court like the ruinous snake he was.
He stuffed another tunic into his leather pack. There was only one thing he could do, and he’d known it for a very long time. He had to leave Dalais Castle and never return. Soon, the time would come where he would be forced to do the one thing he feared far more than anything else. His father would make him kill the prince.
Years had passed. And with every one, he stepped closer and closer to treachery.
He had come to know the royals of the Air Court well. They were not a cruel people, no more so than the shadow fae who had sent him here. True, Sloane Selkirk was a terrible king. He had little care for his people and could not be bothered to hear their pleas half the time.
But Sloane Selkirk was dying. Soon, Thane would take his place. He would become the High King of the realm. Sloane would likely die within the year, if not within the month, according to the alchemists. And then Bolg Rothach would make his ultimate command. He would order Lorcan to murder the new king.
Lorcan refused to do it. Thane was a good male. A good friend, even. He had proven it time and time again. The air fae would prosper beneath his rule. Which was why Bolg Rothach would never let him lead. The Shadow Court didn’twantthis kingdom to prosper. They wanted it to die.
Lorcan stuffed his last tunic into his pack. He hoped it would be enough, but he had little idea of where he would go. It wasn’t as though he could return to Comharra, to the empty cluster of buildings where so many had died. It would be the first place his father would think to look for him.
Perhaps he would find a ship willing to take him across the Mag Mell Sea. He could hide amongst the humans. No one would ever think to search there.
A knock sounded on the door of his chambers. His head jerked up, his heart pounding. No one should be visiting him now. The High Queen had called for a feast. Everyone should be in the Great Hall, guzzling wine and gorging themselves on bread and meat.
Perhaps if he did not answer…
The door opened, and Thane’s head popped into the room. His eyes landed on Lorcan’s packed bag, and sadness flickered in his golden eyes, though he did not look surprised.
“Lorcan,” the prince said slowly. “I was hoping you would join tonight’s feast. You know I always prefer it when you’re at my table.”
The prince often invited Lorcan to dine with him. He enjoyed the camaraderie, and it annoyed the king. Two things that Thane liked very much indeed.
“I am afraid I cannot join you this night,” Lorcan replied tensely.
