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Lara’s lips pursed at this admission before she glanced at her archivist. “Can you help with that, Gil?”
“Hopefully,” he replied. “You might want to ask Mairead too … she has a lot of knowledge about tattoos.”
Kayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “As Ailsa said, we wove the strength of animals, faerie creatures, and weapons into their tattoos using earth magic.” Her gaze flicked to Alar. “As I did when I tattooed you, years ago … only, we were bid to push it further. Much further.”
Silence fell in the alcove.
Ailsa’s attention flicked from her mentor to Alar, and then realization suddenly dawned.
She remembered him now—the enigmatic dark-haired man, nearly a decade ago now, who’d commissioned a large wolf’s head tattoo on his chest. Ailsa had been much younger then, yet she’d watched upon a stool by the fire as Kayla worked on him.
Lara and Alar shared another look before the queen’s eyebrows raised. “She’s the tattooist who gave you the wolf?”
“Aye.” Alar smiled then. “It’s good to see you again, Kayla.”
She favored him with a tight smile in return.
“So, you carried out illegal tattooing in Braewall?” Lara’s expression didn’t change, although her green eyes narrowed just a little.
Kayla lifted her chin. “I kept such jobs till after dark … and was careful.” She hesitated then. “I swear though that I never took it too far. I never weaponized anyone.” She cut a glance at the prince consort once more. “Alar’s wolf aids him when he needs it, gives him strength and speed and sharpens his senses. Nothing more. There are some lines I’ve never crossed … or I hadn’t until I was forced to work for Niall.”
“Those Circines are tireless and frenzied in a fight,” Darach said then. “But sometimes, when they push themselves too hard, they turn on each other.”
Lara’s eyes widened. “How so?”
“It’s the price you pay for wielding so much earth magic without the means to control it properly,” Kayla replied, her fingers tightening around the cup of wine she’d barely touched.
“Aye.” Heat rolled over Ailsa as she recalled the agony in those warriors’ eyes. “None of them asked for it though. They hate Niall but are forced to do his bidding.”
“And yet, we must meet them in battle, nonetheless,” Alar answered, not without sympathy.
“We must.” Lara’s green eyes had darkened now, her jaw set.
Kayla met her eye once more then. “Niall has the sigil that controls them all.”
The queen frowned. “Does that mean if he goes down, his hold on his army breaks?”
“It seems likely,” Kayla replied. “Although since I didn’t recognize the sigil, I can’t say for certain.” She glanced at Gil, seeking his reassurance once more.
He nodded back. “I’ll do my best to assist.”
Lara set her cup down on the table firmly. “Work fast … we’re running out of time.”
“We certainly are,” Alar replied.
Lara cut him a sidelong look. “How long do you need?”
“Three days minimum.”
“Right. You have them … and then we move out.” Lara swept her gaze over the four people she’d invited into her chamber. “You’ve already done me a great favor … one I appreciate … but I must know. Do you wish to take things further?”
Ailsa stilled. There was no mistaking the challenge in the High Queen’s voice. She was testing them.
“You aren’t leaving me behind when you march,” Kayla replied without hesitation.
“Nor me,” Ailsa said before anyone else could speak for her. “But can I ask something of you, My Queen?”
Lara’s brows lifted slightly. “Go on.”
