15. Keira
Chapter 15
Keira
W e ride hard out of Lord Tomas’ lands. Each time I glance back at Aldrin, he is pale-faced with a death grip on his reins, but there is a fire in his eyes when they connect with mine. He cocks a single eyebrow, telling me we have unfinished business. A delightful shiver runs down my spine.
I make sure Aldrin and Silvan are at the head of the train, in a position of honor, as we arrive at the Countess Lynna’s sprawling estate the same day.
Mossmount Pass is located in the only gap in the Mystic Mountains that encircle much of the North, allowing a trade route to the sea. The high-altitude fortress spans the valley between two peaks, and its foundations are vast arches that cross over the road, with massive iron gates ready to be dropped at the first sight of an enemy. The entire mountain pass has scattered watchtowers and gates wherever the path narrows between the peaks.
An invasion by sea is near impossible.
A smile forms on my lips at the sight of a procession of Mothers of Magic. They funnel up the sharp incline of the road and into the fortress, shrouded by sprays of mist kicked up from the hundreds of tiny waterfalls that crash down the faces of the peaks.
The priestesses channel out of another gap in the mountains instead of the main road we are on. Mossmount Pass has a handful of portals that lead to the fae lands, but more importantly, they have a Sanctuary of Magic with portals that connect to others.
My father holds up a hand, and our entire party halts, waiting for the Mothers of Magic to enter first. I squint to make out the front of the line and recognize the High Priestess’ massive elk and the small figure of my grandmother on top of it. The guards bow low to her as she reaches the gate, but she stops to glance back at our party, pausing the entire procession.
“Bring the fae to me,” her voice whispers in my ears, despite the distance between us. The same air wield brings the words to my father and sister.
“Aldrin. Silvan. You have been summoned by the High Priestess.” My father tosses his head back to them. “Join the front of their procession.”
Aldrin folds his arms in front of his chest, the muscles exposed by his rolled-up sleeves bulging. “I’m not falling into another of her traps.”
My mount prances as I pull her out of our neat column to approach Aldrin. “I will go with you.”
“Hurry,” my grandmother’s wield snaps at us. “The fae will be better accepted if they arrive with the support of the Mothers of Magic.”
Without another word, I ride out from our band of warriors. Aldrin curses, but both he and Silvan follow, joining me at my grandmother’s side.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, Grandmother,” I say gently as the procession starts again.
“Yes. Well. I thought it would take much longer to get the Mothers of Magic to back a fae alliance. While there were many debates, it seems most are very enthusiastic about opening ourselves to the Otherworld again.” Her eyes slide to Aldrin. “It seems I made an error of judgment with my earlier treatment of you, fae.”
“An error of judgment?” Aldrin frowns at her. “Is that what you call imprisoning and torturing innocents?”
She leans in toward him with sparks of lightning dancing across her white hair, over her hands and in her eyes. “Understand one thing, fae. There is nothing I won’t do to protect my family. I would burn the entire world to the ground to make sure Keira never knows the pain I have endured in my lifetime. What is the torture of a few innocents compared to that?”
Aldrin grits his teeth. “Had you allowed me to make a blood oath of truth, you’d know I would do the same for her.”
Tiny, uncontrolled sparks shoot from my grandmother, and I’d worry she might set something on fire if the passageway into the fortress wasn’t constructed of pure stone.
“How do you think my grandfather would have felt about the way you treated Aldrin and his people?” I say. He always has been the only thing that calms her viciousness.
My grandmother straightens and the magic falls from her. “If he were alive today, he would be ashamed. Ronan was always my better half and kept my darkness buried deep. He was a good man, better than I ever deserved.”
She rides off until she is the clear head of the procession again.
Aldrin frowns after her. “That Nissien really did a number on her. I’m sick of constantly paying for his abuses.”
“Agreed,” Silvan grumbles on Aldrin’s other side.
I let out a long breath. “I’m sorry. This is probably the closest you’re going to get to an apology from her.”
Servants arrive to take our mounts and my family, Aldrin, Silvan, and a handful of senior priestesses are led to a winding flight of external stairs up a mountain face, past platforms of rooftop gardens, towers and turrets.
The servant stops at the top of the staircase. “The Countess Lynna would like you to join her for light refreshments.”
We step out onto a plateau broken straight off the side of the mountain, the roots of the pillar of stone lost in mist below. There is a marble pavilion in its center, surrounded by spans of empty moss-covered ground and ring railings at its edge for optimal viewing of the entire pass. All around us, waterfalls crash down rockfaces coated in green vegetation, their white noise a constant, soothing hum.
“I like this place,” Silvan says. “It reminds me of home.”
“I bet when the sun rises, it casts the entire fortress in gold light,” Aldrin muses. “It could almost look like our City of Vertical Gardens.”
There is such longing in their eyes. I would feel guilty for keeping them in my realm if it weren’t for the High Chancellor Titania and the damned Assassins of Belladonna preventing them from returning home.
A wide circular table has been arranged under the pavilion, cluttered with cakes on tiered platters, fresh fruits, wine and tea. The Countess Lynna sits there, head bent toward a man who has his hand on her upper thigh and laughs at something he says. It is well known that Lord Bradford is her occasional lover. As soon as they notice our approach, they both rise and stride toward my father.
“Lord Protector Edmund, it has been far too long since you have graced me with a visit.” Lynna takes my father’s hands and kisses both his cheeks. A woman in her late thirties who never succumbed to the pressure to marry, she is beautiful, with pale skin, high cheekbones and pitch-black hair pulled on top of her head in intricate coils.
Lord Bradford takes my father’s arm in his and shakes it. “A pleasure, as always.” He is a distinguished-looking man, with salt-and-pepper hair and a close-cropped beard. “Is the Lady Maeve here as well?”
“I wish this were a social visit,” my father says. “But we have dark tidings to discuss.”
I arrive at his side, and both the Countess Lynna and Lord Bradford give Caitlin and me a small bow.
“Is it true, then?” Lynna’s eyes slide to me. “We heard whispers that the king has gone mad. That he wanted Keira back by force.”
I raise my chin. “I have dedicated myself to the temple of the Mothers of Magic. King Finan has decided he will steal me from this most sacred duty and plans on marching an army into the North. It starts with him kidnapping a bride he has no right to, and ends with him taking whatever he wants from the North.”
Countess Lynna and Lord Bradford gape at me with their mouths open.
“He would dare take a Mother from our temple? I cannot accept such sacrilege. I will not!” A red flush covers Lynna’s face as she practically yells the words. “I too risked myself on my pilgrimage. Our sacrifice is not a thing any should take lightly.”
Lord Bradford takes her arm and leads her back a step. “I think we better sit down and discuss this over some wine, before your temper flares and you drown all the good people below. We don’t want to risk you losing your grip on your magic and flooding the waterfalls again.” He glances from me to my father. “If you would join us?”
I am a ruin of shaky nerves as we sit and wait for servants to pour the wine, then I explain everything. Finan’s aggression when I called off the engagement. The army marching on us and when it should arrive. They both pale at the mention of Lord Desmond’s name.
It is when I bring up the fae alliance that charged electricity floods the group. Both Lynna and Bradford’s eyes fly to Aldrin and Silvan, truly looking at them for the first time. They were so unnerved by my news that they hardly dragged their eyes from me.
Lord Bradford takes a long drink of red wine, emptying his cup while sweat drips down his face. Countess Lynna stares at Aldrin and Silvan like she is trying to find something she lost.
“A fae alliance could revolutionize the pilgrimage.” My grandmother leans toward Lynna. “Our women could be sent into a safe environment on their pilgrimages. There would be no pressure to choose between worlds, or hunt for objects of magic, not when the fae will sell them to us. It could be a true pilgrimage of self-discovery instead, open to all. Pilgrims could go back to the fae realm if they pleased.”
The color drains from Lynna’s face and she speaks as though in a trance. “I fell pregnant to the magic with my daughter on my pilgrimage. I would like to go back, if I ever could. There is someone I would like to find, though it has been forty-five of his years.” Aldrin stiffens beside me, but she doesn’t notice. “I would be very interested in opening migration between the realms.”
“And that is what Aldrin and Silvan are here to negotiate for,” my grandmother says. “Open migration. Free trade between the realms.”
“Did you say free trade? With the fae?” Lord Bradford jolts out of his stupor and leans forward. Eagerness glitters in his eyes.
“Would you like an exclusive deal, Lord Bradford? We have a potent flower in my court that can be ground down to create a range of potions, if you are interested.” Aldrin pops a berry into his mouth and gives a wolfish grin as the other man’s eyes widen.
We spend the entire day building an argument for the countess and lord to join us in this war. Lynna has no hesitations, but Bradford swings between the sweet potential of trade and the fear of going against his king. In the end, both pledge their armies to their High Priestess and Lord Protector. To me.
We ride out the next morning, hard and fast toward Lord Adalwolf’s Windkeep Stronghold. We are less than an hour away from the fortified city when a band of fifty soldiers on warhorses encircle us on a back road surrounded by quiet farmland. My heart stutters as I anticipate an ambush.
Appleshield guards close in around me, and the sound of metal screeching against metal pierces the morning as they pull swords from scabbards. Aldrin and Silvan close in beside me and the very ground vibrates from the hum of their magic as they prepare to unleash it.
My father throws an arm up into the air. “Hold your positions,” he growls at his men. He gives Liam a dark look when the guard’s sword whooshes with blue fire dancing across the blade. “I said hold!”
The horsemen encircling us move in both directions, around and around in an intimidation tactic, so we can’t focus our eyes on them. Then a bear of a man with a completely bald scalp erupts through their number, reining in his warhorse just before my father.
“Edmund, my old friend! Did you think you were going to fucking war without me, you sly bastard?” Lord Adalwolf roars, then turns back to yell at his soldiers to knock it off. “I’ve had scouts out looking for your party for days since I got a missive from my people in the capital.”
My heart doesn’t stop hammering, even when both men slide down from their horses and embrace.
Lord Adalwolf holds my father at arm’s length. “Tell me, are we going to gut this weakling king, or just give him a scare? I’m on board with either.” He turns and looks me straight in the eye. “My sister is a Mother of Magic, and no gods-damned man is going to take away her hard-won agency, king or no.”
They walk away, talking to each other in low voices, no doubt speaking of war.
Aldrin leans across the space between our mounts. “It seems like we have ourselves a war, dear heart.”
I turn wide, panicked eyes on him, but my words dry up.
This is what we wanted. The lords and countess of the North to join us to stand against the king. But now…now it feels all too real. There are no more obstacles between us and facing off with King Finan. I can only hope he will balk at the numbers we have amassed, just like Prince Niall believes he will.
When our band arrives at Fort Blackrock, which defends the pass into the South, our main Appleshield army already mans the walls, led by Gwyneth. I stare at it with foreboding curling within my stomach as rain starts to fall.
It is here that we will make our stand.