Finnian stumbles. Goes down hard, his knee cracking against a root, and the sound he makes—pain and surprise and terror. I’ve never heard him make that sound.
I grab his arm before he can completely lie on the ground. Yank him upright. Blood runs down his cheek where a branch carved a line deep enough to show white beneath the red.
“I’m fine,” he gasps. He’s not fine. His weight sags against me.
“Keep moving.” I don’t recognize my own voice. “Finnian. Keep. Moving.”
His eyes find mine. Blood running down his face. The Crown flickering at his temples like a dying signal.
He nods. Squares his shoulders. Keeps moving.
That’s my scholar. My impossible, stubborn, brilliant man. I am not losing him in this forest.
Orion crashes through a wall of brush and we follow, thorns tearing at clothes and skin. Blood running down my arms from a dozen small cuts.
My lungs burn. My magic screams against whatever’s blocking it.
And then?—
Light.
Distant. Flickering. Warm yellow through the trees.
“There!” Orion doesn’t wait for confirmation. He grabs my wrist and pulls.
We crash through the underbrush. Branches snapping. Breath ragged. The weight of something close behind us?—
I stumble out of the tree line and hit the ground hard. Dirt and grass and the smell of woodsmoke.
For a long moment I just breathe. Face pressed to earth that feels blessedly normal. Safe.
Footsteps approach.
“Oh, look at you.”
That voice. I know that voice.
I lift my head.
“Morrigan?” But it’s not her. Not quite.
“Badb.” Orion looks up before letting his head fall back.
Badb walks past us. Toward the forest. Toward the white shapes I can still see hovering at the tree line, watching with their wrong eyes.
“Did the babies scare you?” she coos. Actually coos. Like she’s talking to kittens. “Did you chase the little Fae? Was it fun? Was it?”
One of the creatures makes a sound. Not a deer sound. Something between a purr and a scream.
Badb laughs. “Yes, I know. They look so tasty. But these ones aren’t for eating.” She reaches up and scratches the thing under its horrible chin. “Maybe next time, sweetlings. Go on now. Go play.”
The shapes melt back into the dark.
Gone.
Like they were never there.
Badb turns back to us. Silver eyes glinting in the distant tavern light.
