Lorcan made a step toward it, but Segonax threw out an arm to hold him back. “You should not go first, Your Highness.”
He scowled. “I truly wish everyone would stop trying to wrap me in hoarfrost silk. I am your king, and I am a trained sword.”
Segonax opened his mouth to argue, but then flattened his lips. Casting his gaze to the ground, he nodded. “It is your decision, Your Highness. If you wish to lead us, we will follow you gladly.”
Lorcan turned to the three guards he’d gotten to know over the course of their journey underground. There was Sean, a stringy male but one surprisingly talented with a bow and arrow. He had no family back in Findius. His mother and father had died when he’d been only a boy, and he’d spent most of his life scrabbling through alleys, finding scraps of food. Then there was Alys. She had a husband and two daughters. They were waiting for her back home. She said both of her children had her deep brunette hair and green eyes. Riordan was an older fae, almost as old as Segonax. His beard was shot through with silver, along with his hair. He hadn’t said much, neither about himself or his family, so Lorcan hadn’t pressed. But his eyes were haunted. He’d seen horrors in his long life.
Now, each of the warriors knelt to one knee before him, bowing their heads. Riordan cleared his throat. “We will serve you readily, Your Grace.”
Lorcan’s chest rose as he stared down at these warriors. He rested his hand on the pommel of his sword, trying to find the words of a king inside of him. “This realm is lucky to have warriors willing to follow their king into the depths of an enemy’s territory. You will be rewarded for your bravery.”
The High King of the Shadow Court strode to the door and pushed it open just a crack. Blinding golden light splashed onto his face. He tipped back his head, gazing across the silent verdant fields that stretched before him. They backed up onto the untouched Forest of Thorns where the trees had not been destroyed by ash or fire.
He could not spot a single leather-clad warrior, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. With a deep breath, he stepped out of the tunnels, eyes sweeping across the wood fae lands. Tension pounded against his skull, fear mixing with his determination. After several moments of silence stretched by, he motioned for the others to join him on the field.
Seg stepped up to his side, nostrils flaring as he sniffed at the air. “No sign of wood fae, then.”
“It doesn’t seem so, no.” Lorcan clenched his jaw, unease tangling with hope. “But something about this rings false.”
“Aye.” Segonax lifted a finger and pointed toward a rock formation halfway across the field. “There’s something there.”
Lorcan squinted his eyes, but he could make out nothing but the strange formation, like someone had stacked dozens of stones together in the shape of an arrow. It pointed right at them.
“Get back into the tunnel,” he murmured as his heartbeat broke out into a canter. He twisted toward the warriors who stood waiting behind him, only to find a trio of blanched faces.
Two wood fae had edged out of the tunnel. Twin arrows were pointed at the warriors’ heads. Shock slammed its fist into Lorcan’s gut, and a low growl eked from his throat.
“Lower your weapons.” He angled his already-drawn sword, the sharp blade glinting toward their heads, but he knew he would never be able to get a blow in before they made theirs. Riordan and Alys were trapped right between him and them.
The two wood fae did not even flinch. They were both female, tall and lithe, and strong, with braided hair that hung down to their hips. Something about the fierce flash in their emerald eyes reminded him of Reyna Darragh.
“You’re coming with us,” the closest one hissed. “The High King can’t wait to meetyou, Lorcan Rothach.”
Riordan’s eyes flashed toward Lorcan. The old warrior’s face hardened into stone. “We will not allow you to take our king.”
Lorcan let out a roar as Riordan whirled toward the wood fae, whipping his dagger out of his sheath. The arrow loosed, slamming into the center of Riordan’s forehead. Lorcan stumbled back, a snake circling his heart and twisting the life out of it.
Everyone else sprang into action as Riordan’s body crumpled onto the thick grass. Alys and Sean both whirled with their weapons raised. Seg sprang forward with a shout. The second wood fae loosed her arrow, and this one was aimed right at Lorcan’s chest.
He saw it a second too late. The iron tip hurtled through his left shoulder, punching him away from the others. His back slammed into the ground as his feet twisted beneath him. He blinked up at the brilliant blue sky, his lifeforce pumping out of his veins and onto the grass. He tried to call upon his shadows, but they slipped between his fingers like invisible ghosts. His vision blurred until the clouds transformed into a strange grey haze that tugged him into darkness.
* * *
“Your Highness.” Segonax’s familiar face blurred in Lorcan’s vision. A second face appeared beside him, his brows knitted together in concern. Priest Tighe, still clutching his damn book. Nollaig popped up beside him, though her cloak still hid any hint of her from view. Pain pounded against Lorcan’s shoulder, and he groaned.
“What happened?” he grunted, his vision blurring. He could scarcely think straight against the pain, and his memories were vague. There’d been green all around him, and then…nothing.
“The wood fae hit you with one of their poisoned arrows,” Seg said grimly. “Priest Tighe here managed to draw it out of your skin quickly enough. If it weren’t for him, you’d be dead.”
His heart pulsed. “And the others?”
Seg’s voice was grim. “Only Alys survived. Both Riordan and Sean are dead, but so are the two wood fae archers.”
Lorcan let out a heavy sigh, letting his eyes slide shut. “There will be others who know about that tunnel. We cannot exit the city that way.”
“No, Your Highness, we can’t,” Priest Tighe said. “There is only one option for us now.”
Lorcan sagged against the weight of it. How could he surrender the city to the wood king? But what would happen if he didn’t?
