“That’s what Reyna is now. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. You can’t let her mad words stop you from doing the one thing that will save our people.”
Cos winced and turned to Murdock. “You speak sense. If Murdock signs, I’ll sign, too.”
Murdock relented with a nod. “My only living daughter got killed trying to end this war. I won’t let her death be in vain because some godforsaken magic is trying to stop us.”
Thane glanced away. Murdock still had no idea how Iona had died, and Thane had no intention of ever letting him find out. Blood ran deep in the Sea Court lands. Thane might be his nephew, but he did not come before his own daughter. Murdock would cut him down before he ever let Thane get away with it.
The heavy thud of footsteps drew their attention back to the throne. Lorcan appeared from behind a thick tapestry embroidered with the sigils of both the Wood and Shadow Courts. It had not taken Lorcan long to transform this tower into an elaborate display of his rule. It was not what Thane would have expected from his old friend, but that did not mean he was cursed.
Lorcan sighed and settled back into the throne, looking down on the assembled kings. “I hate what has happened to Reyna’s mind. Hopefully, in time, she will be her old self once again. For now, I have ordered the guards to keep her safe inside comfortable quarters. I thought it best. I don’t think any of us want to see her rotting inside an iron-barred cell in the dungeons.”
Thane released a breath of relief. This was evidence they’d made the right choice. His old friend would never throw Reyna Darragh into a dungeon cell. He glanced at Cos. The tension on the ice king’s face still pinched his brows, but the deep lines around his mouth had vanished.
“Good.” Cos gave a nod. “If we’re going to go through with this treaty, I will do so under one condition.”
Thane tensed.
“You will bring no harm to my daughter.”
Lorcan frowned. “Of course, I would never harm your daughter. She’s done nothing wrong. It isn’t her fault what the Ruin has done to her.”
“Then, you have my signature.”
Lorcan’s eyes drifted to the sea king, who merely nodded. And then he turned his dark gaze upon Thane. He shifted on his feet, torn even though he knew this was the right choice. They’d all agreed. They’d all seen what had become of Reyna. Unease still pounded against his skull, as incessant as an axe against wood.
Finally, he loosed a breath. “I agree.”
“Good.” Lorcan grinned broadly and motioned toward the corner. A druid bustled out from the shadows, an ancient slip of parchment in his hands. He brought it before the kings, where they all peered down at the looping handwriting. It said as much as they’d all agreed. The five kingdoms of Tir Na Nog—not six, since the Fire Court had long since been destroyed—were now allied. They agreed to peace, to trade, and to open communication. No more strife, no more war, no more bloodshed.
Hope bloomed in Thane’s chest as he scrawled his name across the line for the High King of the Air Court. Cos followed suit, and then Murdock. Finally, Lorcan scrawled his own name in the slot for his two combined kingdoms. The kings all met each other’s solemn gazes, determined hope churning between them.
It was up to them to make this right. They would forge a new land, together.
“Now.” Lorcan grinned at Thane, and a flicker of his old familiar friend flashed before him. “It’s time to undo the exile.”
Thane’s heart thumped. “Of course. But I’ll have to do that when I return to Tairngire. I can’t do it without the power of the throne.”
The smile died from Lorcan’s lips. “I see. Then, you must return at once. Or I’ll throw this treaty into the fire. The exile must be undone.”
12
Reyna
Reyna jolted awake. She curled her hands into fists and leapt to her feet, ready to punch the living daylights out of anyone who so much as blinked at her wrong. The guards who had tried to drag to her to the dungeons would think twice about ever messing with a trained Shieldmaiden again.
Only…no one was there.
Her fisted hands fell heavily to her sides as she spun in a slow circle. A familiar bed squatted near the open windows, overlooking the dense forests of the Wood Court. An owl perch sat just beside it, empty. Wingallock would be waiting for her in the woods.
She crossed the floor to the open window and stared down the jagged cliff. If only she had her wings, she would spread them wide and soar across the skies in search of help. Not that she knew where to find it. Thane was on Lorcan’s side. Even her father seemed to trust him more than he believed his own daughter.
She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath of mossy air. It was because he’d seen this before. Not just once, with Eislyn, but twice. The Ruin had kept Glencora bedridden for months. She was awake now, but she no doubt suffered still.
And it wasn’t as though they were wrong. Reynadidfeel plagued by remnants of the magic. She hadn’t fully shaken it yet, if she ever would. But that did not mean she was mad.
The door creaked on its hinges, cutting through her thoughts. Her heart rattled in her chest as she swung toward the noise. Lorcan filled the doorway, his armor glinting in the darkness. He strode inside and slammed the door behind him. Silence bounced between them.
“It looks like you got what you wanted,” she hissed. “They believed you instead of me.”
