A War of Three Kings (Dying Lands #2)

13. Keira

Chapter 13

Keira

A ldrin shoves me behind his huge body. Roots whip out of the ground and catch arrows flying toward us. An air shield rises around us, its surface rippling as more arrows bounce off it.

A scream tears from my lips and my heart pounds rapidly. Aldrin reaches behind him and places a hand on my hip, steadying me.

“This shield isn’t going to protect us!” I gasp. “It failed last time.”

“Last time we were going up against your father, a fae I didn’t know was more powerful than me,” Aldrin growls. “These are humans.”

Distant shouts cut through the night, and I spot the silhouettes of archers moving in the woods. There are so many of them. Branches expand rapidly from the trees and collect soldiers in woody prisons with overlapping limbs. Roots burst from the soil and wrap around them like they are spun in spider’s silk. Still, more humans lurk in the forest’s darkness.

I spin around to our campsite, and cold dread runs through me at its stillness. “Rise! We are under attack!” I screech, wielding air to amplify my voice tenfold. “Rise! We are under attack!”

Soldiers rip out of their tents, half-dressed and clutching the weapons they slept with. They are too far away to help us. The camp descends into chaos as they search for their enemy. They cannot see the archers in the forest.

I recognize the pounding of galloping hoofbeats moments before enemy warriors on horseback explode out of the brush. They lean low in their saddles and hold their swords at the ready to cut us down. There are four of them, but more reverberate the ground in the near distance.

“I’ll take the two on the left,” I yell to Aldrin, stepping out from behind him and standing by his side. He grunts at me.

I explode the scrub beneath the riders’ hooves, grinding my teeth as I try to get the timing right. The earth shatters into a plume of dust around them, leaving behind localized ruts deep enough to break an ankle, but my aim is off.

They are moving too fast, and my magic either strikes behind them, or far enough in front that they can leap over it. Sweat drips down my face as arrows fly past us, constantly making me jolt.

I am running out of time. The horsemen are gaining on us too quickly.

My breaths choke out of me in rough pants. I focus all my attention on one horse, ignoring the rest of the battle, and it stumbles straight into a pothole a heartbeat after I create it, its leg twisting and crunching. The stallion pitches to its side at high speed, tumbling on top of its rider, and both roll away.

I glance up to see the second warhorse almost on top of us. The blade of the warrior’s sword glints in the moonlight, and the steam rolling off the horse is clearly visible. The rider’s gaze is locked on Aldrin.

I cannot lose him. I will not allow him to be harmed by my people again.

In a moment of sheer desperation, I reach for my fire magic, the power I have always been too afraid to touch. I grab the edge of it and tug and tug and tug, like unraveling a spool of yarn. I throw everything I have into a defense before Aldrin. A wall of fire rears up as tall as I am, the flames instantly red hot and dancing as they lick up toward the sky.

The galloping horse rears before the flames, kicking its legs in the air and screeching. The rider tumbles from its back.

I bend over with my hands on my knees and heave in air while my head spins from the amount of power I just used. I glance at Aldrin to make sure he is safe, then at his handiwork. A huge fissure has opened up in the ground between us and the woods, and the underground water is slowly gurgling into it. The other two horseback warriors float within it.

Concentration lines Aldrin’s face as he lengthens that moat. It is too wide at its middle for even a horse to leap, but a dozen foot soldiers swarm around either side of it. More riders break through the tree cover and arc toward the edges of the fissure.

The soldiers of the Appleshield Protectorate funnel past us with swords drawn to meet the oncoming enemy. Fireballs arc over our heads. I risk a glance back to find my father running for me with desperation flickering in his wide eyes. A halo of flames surrounds him as he drags his attention from me long enough to fire at the enemy again.

The sound of Silvan’s roar rips away my attention. He fights four humans at the edge of the camp, swinging his sword to catch the blow of one enemy while another takes a swipe at his exposed back. My heart clenches in a vise in fear for him, but he turns with lightning speed to fend off the next enemy.

Roots rip out of the ground around Silvan and snag the ankles of the men he battles. Some move fast enough to snap them, but they manage to climb up the limbs of one human, wrapping around his torso and smashing him to the ground. Another slips around our forces to take his place.

We become surrounded by enemies. I have no weapon. Not even a throwing knife, and I am almost out of magic.I shoot puffs of fire at them anyway, enough to make a person rear back, but not to kill.

Aldrin is magnificent. He blocks me with his body from most of the advancing enemies, twirling twin swords of pure, hardened air, slicing at any who get close enough to us while snaring many in cages of roots.

“Air projectiles, Keira,” he growls at me. “Just like I trained you.”

I force the panic from my mind to form the wields, tossing long needles of air. My stomach sickens with each impact on an enemy body. Blood sprays and people scream in pain. It feels like we are being charged from all directions, but many of them are friendly soldiers trying to get past us to the main battle.

From the corner of my eye, I notice Silvan being swarmed by enemies. I grab Aldrin’s arm and dig my nails into his flesh, but I am too slow. A long, deep gash blooms across Silvan’s bare chest as a sword finds its mark. Blood flows down his skin, coating him in red. He staggers back, suddenly unstable on his feet. Another’s blade flies toward his throat and my heart freezes in my chest, but it stops a hair’s width from his jugular.

The man twitches as he tries to bring his blade home, but Aldrin has seized up his muscles, forcing it back down. “I will fucking kill him!” the man screams. “Let the Lord Protector’s daughter go, or we will kill this fae scum!”

“Where have you locked her away? We will scour this entire protectorate to free her!” another human yells, bound in roots among the many on the ground.

I am standing right here, free and fighting against them, and they don’t recognize me. They claim to fight in my name, but they don’t truly care for me.

Silvan sways where he stands, clutching his wound and panting. He looks Aldrin dead in the eye, then pointedly shifts his gaze over his shoulder. We both glance behind us in time to see the enemy force breaking and fleeing from the Protector Guard before the lines of warriors even meet.

“Who are you?” I yell back at the man who tried to slit Silvan’s throat. “What do you want?”

The warrior spits. “We are here to rid this kingdom of fae, as is our duty.” He stares hate at Aldrin. Silvan elbows the man in the nose with the last of his reserves, and the sickening crunch and spray of blood almost makes me retch. The blade slices Silvan’s cheek as the human soldier crumples to the ground.

Aldrin’s roots snake up the bodies of any enemy warriors left standing around us, wrapping around their torsos, pinning their arms to their bodies and squeezing them until their faces turn purple. The bows strapped to their backs crush under the force. These were some of the archers from the forest.

“Please! I can’t breathe,” one man rasps out, clawing at those wooden tendrils.

“You should have thought about that before you stormed this camp. Before you fired arrows at us. Keira Appleshield is standing right next to me, you stupid fools! You could have killed her!” Aldrin roars, pointing at me. His lips peel back in a snarl, the stubs of horns showing within the mass of his dark hair.He is losing a fight to keep them hidden. To not make himself look any more alien. He shouldn’t have to hold back like that.

“Some fucking gratitude,” Silvan snarls. “And we are fighting for these people?” He shoots a dark look at Aldrin, then sit hard on the ground as his wound gets the better of him.

Aldrin stares intently at the fighters withering in his grip of roots, barely restraining himself.

“You can’t kill them,” I murmur to him.

“I know.” He flicks a look at me. “The Northerners can insult me, attack me, try to kill me, but if I take one of their lives, none of them will accept us fae.”

“Then let me do the fucking honors,” my father booms, striding straight past us. Barely contained fury ripples through him. His longsword drips with blood and his clothes and face are scattered with crimson droplets. With quick thrusts of his blade, he kills the fighters Aldrin trapped on the ground.

My father stalks right up to the man who tried to kill Silvan, still snared upright, and yells incoherently as he removes the man’s head from his body with a powerful swing of his sword. I jump as it hits the ground and rolls toward me. I scurry back into Aldrin, trying to get away from the gore as horror churns through me.

I turn and bury my face into Aldrin’s bare chest, wrapping my arms around him, panting hard as panic and nausea roll through me in hard waves. “Oh, gods. I think I’m going to throw up.”

Aldrin strokes my hair and threads a strong arm around me. “Breathe through it, Keira. Breathe. You are safe now. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

The blood pounding in my ears slowly fades, and voices crowd in. The chaos of people shouting out orders and wailing with pain. At least the clash of swords is gone. Arrows no longer sail through the sky. The footfalls of people passing are calm and slow. There are no more charges.

“Is she okay? Unharmed?” My father’s voice is tense, but the usual accusation in it whenever he addresses Aldrin is gone.

“She’s in shock.” Aldrin’s chest vibrates beneath my cheek. It is wet. From my tears, I realize.

“You really will protect her with your life, won’t you?”

Aldrin tenses. “I will protect her with my life, and I will destroy anyone who dares to harm a hair on her head. I will kill this King Finan for the fear and pain he has caused her, whether it is in this war, or after I regain my crown.”

I pull away from Aldrin and peer up into his face. His amber eyes burn with intensity.

“Keira.” There is repressed irritation in my father’s tone. “Are you okay?”

I turn in Aldrin’s arms to face him. A muscle ticks in my father’s jaw as he frowns down at me, his shoulders completely taut. He holds out a hand to bridge the gap between us, but it seems leagues long. An impossible distance to cross.

Before Aldrin arrived here, I always ran into my father’s arms when I was afraid. He was the one who picked me up and put me back on my feet. Now, he has never felt more alien. In some ways, he too has become my enemy.

I force myself to take step toward him, but he sees my hesitation. He places a hand on my shoulder and I flinch. “I never wanted you to see battle like this, Keira. Many grown men vomit or cry their first time. Are you okay?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

“This isn’t her first,” Aldrin says at my back, and the look my father gives him makes me fear he might become murderous toward Aldrin all over again. “We technically met in the middle of a battle.”

I let out a nervous laugh. There is so much I want to say, but my oath to never speak of my pilgrimage stills my tongue.

My father’s eyebrows shoot up and he stalks toward Aldrin. “If you were fighting against my daughter, I swear I will destroy you myself!”

I place my hands on his chest and force him back a few steps. It doesn’t help that Aldrin laughs behind me.

“Aldrin has never tried to hurt me or Caitlin.” I drag each word out of my mouth, fighting the restriction on my tongue.

“They stepped out of the portal right into the middle of a fight, and neither side knew what to do with them. I thought Keira was a damsel in distress and foolishly tried to rescue her,” Aldrin grumbles from behind me. “I ended up with multiple stakes piercing my flesh for my efforts.”

A huge, prideful smile grows on my father’s face. “That’s my girl.” He puts an arm around my shoulder and leads me away, but glances back at Aldrin. “Heal your man Silvan, before he bleeds out everywhere.”

We look over at Silvan, who still sits on the grass, glaring and snapping at the priestesses who try to attend him.

“I’m fine. It’s just a fucking scratch.” A slow trickle of blood still seeps down his chest.

“That’s more than a scratch, Silvan, and you know it.” Aldrin descends on him. “The faster you stop bleeding, the sooner you can help me heal the humans.”

My father pulls us away. “I am sorry I cut those men down in front of you. I haven’t been able to control my rage these days. You can return to the pavilion while we clean this up and question the prisoners if you don’t have the stomach for gore. There is no shame in that.”

My back straightens of its own accord. “I can clean wounds. I’m not a vulnerable little girl that you need to lock away.”

“Not a vulnerable little girl? Is that right?” My father stands to his full height. “Explain to me, Keira, what you were doing up and wandering the camp in the middle of the night, dressed like that?”

I glance down to my thin shirt and then back up at my father, throwing his hand off my shoulder. “Really? After everything that just happened, that’s what you’re worried about? I will remind you I am a priestess and an independent woman, not your child daughter anymore. I don’t answer to anyone except the High Priestess.”

“Fine! I’ll get your grandmother to force some sense into you instead.” He stalks off and I am left standing there, staring daggers into his back. “Caitlin! Where is the commander of my army? Caitlin!” he roars, and soldiers scurry to find her.

I turn back to Aldrin. He stands with a hand on Silvan’s shoulder, feeding white light into his body while the gash on his chest closes. Aldrin grimaces and sways a little on his feet as he favors one leg. My eyes fly down to the arrow bolt still jutting out of his thigh. He fought the whole damned battle with it still lodged in him.

Horror washes through me as I rush toward him. His hands wrap around the arrow and he snaps the shaft, his features pinching with pain from the impact.

“Aldrin, you can’t just pull it out! What if it has nicked an artery?”

He breathes hard a few times, then rips it out anyway. “I’ll live. I’m fae, remember? They were too ignorant to use iron or ash.”

I fall to my knees to inspect the wound through the tear his pants, but only a small amount of blood dribbles out. “We need to get these pants off you and clean the wound.”

Aldrin says nothing for a long moment. When I glance up, his lips are quirked up and hiseyes are heated. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

I stand immediately. “Well, you can’t be that injured, then.”

Silvan stares death at both of us. “I’ll bloody heal your nick, Aldrin, if it means I don’t need to hear any more of this.” He wraps his hand over the wound and Aldrin winces as magic is poured into it. A moment later, neither man looks like they took even a scrape during the fighting.

We spend an age tending the wounded. I feel useless, tying bandages over minor injuries while Aldrin and Silvan exhaust themselves, healing any who will allow it.

“Caitlin!” my father bellows as he circles back in our direction. “There you are. I want a full status report. And I want to know what happened to my gods-damned sentries!”

Caitlin is dressed in tight leather pants, with a long tunic reaching her knees and a boiled leather bodice sewn with metal discs. She is the only one who stopped to pull on armor when the battle broke out, but a person could forgive her for taking a few minutes to protect her unborn baby.

“James and Sean are gone.” She marches on my father at an agitated pace to her step, her messy braid swishing behind her. “The bastards clearly betrayed us. We weren’t attacked by a trained army, but a mob of villagers who picked up their hunting bows and butcher’s knives to attack the fae.”

I rush over to them. “Were there any members of Lord Tomas’ personal guard?”

She spits to the side, like a common soldier and not a lady. “Oh, there were some of his men leading the pack, but not enough for you to pin it on him. No wonder they broke so easily.”

My father curses. “I could murder the man for putting both my daughters and unborn grandchild at risk with his foolish antics.”

Caitlin puts her hands on her hips. “Are you still uncomfortable with me fighting while pregnant?”

My father’s nostrils flare and he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m never going to like it.”

“But you will not stop me!” she snaps. “Because I have just as much right to fight for my sister as you do.”

“Because I am a fool and an overindulgent father, and I believe women should have the same rights as men. But you don’t need to be in the thick of the fighting. You can do well enough at a distance with a bow and arrow.”

Caitlin scowls at him and looks ready to protest, but he grabs her by the elbow and pulls her away.

“Come. We have survivors to question.”

“What are you going to do to them?” I call out, and both my father and sister turn swiftly back to me. Visions of ignorant farmers being cut open for information floods my mind, because I no longer know what my father is capable of.

“We are going to talk to them.” He grits his teeth. “Then send them back to Lord Tomas to put them on trial and execute, even if they were working for him. It would implicate him in this too if he let them go.”

Aldrin comes up beside me.“Do you think that bastard arranged this?”

“I have no fucking idea, but my hands are tied. We need him. I sent guards to follow the retreating mob and to scout for another ambush. We may never find any evidence to pin on him.” My father stalks off, guards closing in around him to give their reports.

Caitlin lingers behind. She examines Aldrin with her usual narrow-eyed gaze, then huffs out a breath. “For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry that you and your people have had to endure such hatred in this realm. I promise you, I have been doing my best to fight for you all.”

Aldrin puts a hand on her shoulder. “I know you have, and I am tha?—”

“Don’t you dare thank me, not for fighting for you to be treated with decency!” Caitlin snaps. “That should have been a given.”

My father catches her eye from across the field and flicks his head for her to follow him. Caitlin gives Aldrin a final look, then rushes off.

He watches her go, his dark eyebrows pinched and a rawness in his eyes. It affects him—every word of hate, each cruel act. It cuts not just at his sense of self, but the dreams he holds for saving his people. I see it all in his mournful expression.

I am so sorry and have no words left to express it, butI try anyway.

My hands fall on his chest as I stare into his eyes. “I wish I could promise you justice. That we could rage against each person who discriminates against fae, but we can’t battle words with swords. It would fuel the fire of their prejudice and make them think their anger and retaliation are justified. But if anyone raises a weapon against you, I will be the first in line to cut them down. You will win them over by the time this war is done, I am sure of it. They will learn through your actions that the fae can be relied upon, and how powerful an ally you are.”

He runs his thumbs under my eyes. “You’re crying again, Keira. I have dealt with worse things in my court.”

I shake my head. “Every word they say against you breaks my heart. Every attack kills me.”

I take his hand and lead him away from the camp, toward the run-down farmer’s cottage half hidden in the inky blackness of the night.

There are no words to describe how I feel. I will show him instead.