Page 99 of A Courage of the Chosen

The barrier separating Elfayne and the human world sits between two towering oak trees, their thick trunks gnarled with age, and their branches meeting to form the arch that allows passage between realms.

The leaves never change color. Never die and drop when the others around them succumb to fall and winter. They stand the test of time, and have probably been here longer than any living thing that walks either plane.

During spring and summer, only the energy that radiates from the portal allows Seelie to find the gateway. Humans have no idea about it, and those that have made their way into Elfayne often have done so by accident.

Now, in the thick of a changing season, the barrier is obvious, at least on this side. A prime target for what I intend to do.

It’s heavily guarded, more so than it has been in a long time, and I count no less than seventy soldiers. Through the canopy-filtered moonlight, they watch and patrol in shifts.

Well, at least the council have done something useful of late.

From my spot in the shadows, I track their movements, the paths they tread through the knee-high grass and surrounding trees.

It’s the middle of the night, and a few of them are fighting to keep their eyes open, lazy in their vigilance. Around a dozen fires flicker in the middle of tents clustered together.

I make the call.

A soft whistle, that will sound like a night bird to anyone who doesn’t know what that pattern means.

They don’t stand a chance.

The sleeping guards are the first ones to die. Mouths covered as blades are dragged across their throats or shoved into their hearts. Their end a silent breath into a night that’s going to set things in motion.

I don’t care about adding to my ranks on this mission.

Tonight is about my own revenge, and sending a message to my queen.

And to my father.

My dark magic swells in my chest, a hellish thrum that delights in murder and blood. It howls like a baying wolf, thirsty for more.

The Craobh responds too, and my stomach bottoms out as it channels into the earth, giving me everything I want and need.

Unlimited, unfettered power.

Mine to control and command.

The first alarm comes from the other side of the forest to me, and the snoozing guards respond. They snap awake, fumble for their weapons, and arrange themselves into defensive positions that will be torn apart.

I step out into the light of the fires.

The closest soldier freezes when he spots me. “Prince Tavish. You shouldn’t be here.”

I reach out to the thirty Dorche I brought with me. A solitary thread connects my mind to theirs and carries one instruction.

“No one lives.”

The guard’s hands begin trembling around his sword when I draw my own weapon.

“Am I still your prince?” I reply with a cocky tilt of my head. Then, I pounce, and he barely has the time to lift his blade before I detach his head from his body. Blood splashes onto my armor, dripping down the length of my sword to my hands, where it seeps between my fingers.

Another soldier launches himself at me with a cry of defiance. “You bastard! We trusted you!”

I laugh, dodging each of his strikes, and allow the wicked thing that I keep in check a rare opportunity to run wild. It doesn’t take.

It devours.

The soldier charges me with his shield guarding his midsection. I deftly dip under the sweep of his broad sword and pop up behind his back, taking out his knees at the same time as driving my elbow into the top of his shoulder so hard that he drops his weapon.