The wood fae swung his sword once more. The blade whistled in the night air. She stumbled back, clutching her familiar to her chest. Her body felt slow and sluggish, even with his feathers pressing against her skin.
“Nollaig!” she shouted, hating that she had to call for help.
The wood fae’s lips curled as she stalked toward Reyna. “Your little friend is busy. You’ll be coming with me.”
Reyna narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
The wood fae smiled. “You don’t have much of a choice.” She knelt and grabbed Reyna’s dagger from the dirt before pocketing it in her waistband.
“That was a mistake,” Reyna said through gritted teeth. “You have no idea who you’re fighting against. I don’t need a dagger to take you on.”
Meaningless lies. Reyna was in no shape to fight someone who had a sword when she had nothing at all. But the wood fae didn’t know that. Maybe if she showed enough bravado, the enemy would think twice about going up against the bloody hero of the Battle of Fomorian Square.
“I knowexactlywho you are, Princess Reyna Darragh,” the wood fae hissed as she stalked forward. “Which means I also know your weaknesses. You may have once had powers, but you don’t have them now. And your stupid familiar can do nothing to save you. If he could, you wouldn’t be holding on to him like he’s life itself.”
Reyna’s heart thundered. She cut her gaze left and then right, hoping against all hope to spot Nollaig looming out of the shadows to take down the enemy. But there was nothing there other than darkness.
“Besides,” the wood fae cut in, laughing. “If you refuse to come with me willingly, we’ll kill your friend.”
Reyna froze.
“That’s right.” The wood fae nodded as she inched even closer, her blade flashing even in the heavy darkness. “You want to know what happened to your cloaked friend? We have her.”
“That’s impossible,” Reyna whispered. Nollaig couldn’t be that easy to trap. She’d heard the wood fae coming far before they’d advanced on their camp. How could they have caught her off guard so easily?
But…wood fae couldn’t lie. Could they?
Now that they had charged into the shadow lands, had they somehow found a way to toss off the restrictions of Tir Na Nog? That didn’t seem possible. That wasn’t how the laws of the realms worked.
Which meant they truly did have Nollaig.
“Come with us,” the wood fae hissed. “And we will let your friend live. Refuse, and we will chop off her head.”
36
Lorcan
Findius rose in the distance, but there was no sign of the army from Shademore. Unease churned in Lorcan’s gut as he gazed across the empty expanse of the Misty Wastes. Where the hell was Nollaig and Reyna? He glanced over his shoulder at Lord Tristin and Lord Maddox. Tristin’s face had grown increasingly pinched as the hours stretched on. The lords had only agreed to fight if they got reinforcements.
And those reinforcements were nowhere to be seen.
Where the hell are they?He gripped the reins tight in his fists. If something had happened to Reyna…
“Your Grace,” Lord Tristin said, inching his horse forward to trot alongside Lorcan’s mare. “I’m concerned that we’ve seen no signs of the other army. With Findius in sight, we should make camp. Otherwise, the wood king will see us coming.”
Irritation flared its ugly head. They didn’t have time to wait. More citizens of Findius were being slaughtered with every hour that passed. The wood king and his warriors grew stronger with every ounce of blood they drank. And Reyna was getting weaker. He needed to get inside that city, kill that king, and find a way to save his lover from the Ruin.
“I’m afraid it may be too late for that.” He rolled back his shoulders, sitting tall and commanding on his horse. “If we can see the castle, they can see us.”
“Beltane is tomorrow,” the lord argued. “We agreed we would wait for the army from Shademore, and that we would attack in unison with the kings and queens of the northern courts. They won’t be here until Beltane.”
Lorcan ground his teeth. He hated this. His skin itched with the need to dosomething, anything. He was beginning to understand exactly how Reyna felt most of the time. She was just the same, always desperate to move, desperate to launch into action, even if that action was nothing good.
She always stubbornly rushed headlong into danger.
Gods, he loved her.
He shifted on his horse to gaze back at the army. Two thousand warriors marched behind them, their gazes locked on the city ahead. They looked uneasy yet eager. Eyes flickered with pride. They wanted to fight for their king. They wanted to save the people of this dying realm.
