Stopping just short of the closest camp, we lower ourselves underthe thick trees. The land between the Shadowlands the rest of the Neevea where Witches and Humans live, is a mixture of the black gnarled trees from The Crow’s Feet Pass and the Eternal Night Forest. The grass is lush under our feet, and reaching branches of impersonal fingers of death hang overhead.
My mate looks around, smiling at the gothic beauty. I forget she’s never seen it. Last time we came through this way, she was unconscious in my arms, struck down by Griffin’s arrow.
I make another mental note. If he has more of that poison, I’ll order Fee to burn it on sight.
“This place is beautiful,” she whispers. “We should have a summer palace here.”
I smile, catching on to her meaning.
She’s making plans for the future. The threat of what’s to come, the pending war, doesn’t intrude on this wish.
Grabbing her hand, I follow Samkien further into the brush, all of us on silent feet. Thankfully, my queen has learned a few things under Fee’s tutelage.
“When we’ve won,” I murmur into her ear, “I will build you a summer palace fit for the Gods. With as many windows as possible to let in the cool air. And those pansies you’re so fond of planted along the edges. With a nursery.”
Her eyes twinkle. “Make it two.”
My heart pounds in my chest and I’m so happy she can’t hear it. She’s going to be the death of me.
At the edge of the trees, Samkien motions for us to kneel. Odd. My ears pick up what he hears—many voices, all male and the clang of metal.The Humans.
They’re closer than the map says.They’re expanding.
We pull down the bush, taking care to remain in the shadows. The crowd before us is not a simple camp of scouts or soldiers readying for a king. This is an army.
And there are many of these pockets, all situated around my borders. Around my kingdom.
Fucking Human scum.
“We’re outmatched,” Samkien says quietly. I hate how it sounds—like we’re the weaker foe. But he’s right. “When the troops come, they will override us with sheer force.”
We are the better archers, the better swordsman, faster and stronger, but yet, they will defeat us from numbers alone. There are too many Humans for each of our skilled soldiers.
Glancing back, I open my mouth to ask my queen’s opinion, and stop. She’s looking to an herb on the forest ground, head tilted.
Returning to her side, I look down at the flower. A bush no bigger than my palm it’s dotted with red flowers. In the right light, they look almost like tiny flames, dancing in the black-green foliage.
“See something, love?”
“Burning bush,” she whispers. She picks up one of the leaf and rubs her fingers together, a black oil residue covering them. She holds them up. “I haven’t seen this since the Blackwoods Coven.”
I nod, though I don’t follow her. I know she understands plants better than most—one small gift from the woman who betrayed her—but I’m not sure how that helps us.
“I understand if it brings back memories?—”
She grabs my wrist, yanking me forward. “The old crone who planted the bush, always warned me never to let it near a flame.”
Curious, I tilt my head. “Why? What happens?”
“It explodes.” She looks back to the oil, smiling. “I think we figured out a way to attack the paths leading to the camps.”
My eyes fall to the oil and I grin brightly. My fucking clever wife.
“We’ll have to harvest them.” I look around the small patch, seeing little pockets of the plant hidden under larger bushes. “And then figure out what to do.”
“I know how to harvest it,” she says proudly. “The old crone was the only one who used to let me work in her garden. She was a bit eccentric.” She shrugs, smirking. “I never thought her lessons would help one day.”
Kissing her hard, I smile against her lips. “You might have just given a chance in this war, kitten.”
