Chapter 46 #2
A thought floated to mind, the memory of clinging to Dorian as he took us down from the citadel: Sylvanwild fae are marvelous climbers. “We can’t scale it?”
“The walls are far too high, my queen. Not one fae has ever managed it.”
I stepped toward the table. “Surely we’ve infiltrated in the past.”
Cirevan hesitated. “That’s precisely it, my queen—”
“Don’t waste time with ‘my queen.’”
“That’s precisely what you promised us would happen.”
I met eyes with him. “I promised?”
“That you’d breach the walls.”
Realization dawned. “Have we ever breached the walls of the Kingdom of the Plains?”
He shook his head. “Not once.”
Frustration tinged my voice. “Well why not?” Of course, I already knew why—because I knew this land. I knew those walls. Knew them like I knew the face of my mother.
Cirevan seemed unwilling to speak. His eyes darted elsewhere, like he could find refuge in the corners.
“Just say it,” I said.
“We have not the power,” he said. “They are as thick as ten fae set lengthwise. Their sunlit arrows and trebuchets decimate us before we’re able to put so much as a dent in the stone.”
“And what of our magic?”
An almost-smile touched his lips. He managed to keep a straight face. “Our magic is weak outside our kingdom. Too weak to have much effect. But…”
“But?”
“You have the dagger.”
My fingers touched the grip of the dagger at my side. Even a slight touch sent a chill through me. My eyes closed. That was no chill.
It was power. Pure power.
Cirevan had called us too weak. That was ridiculous. In a flash, the night of the attack on the Kingdom of Storms returned to me. I remembered the sight of it, the green flares passing overhead. The sounds of our wall being destroyed.
Fae had not been too weak then.
Something had changed between Carys’s time and my own. This battle was decisive in history. Something had happened to change the tide between humans and fae.
And this dagger was part of it. One touch of it imparted power.
My eyes opened. “Gather the archers.”
“My queen?”
My gaze narrowed on Cirevan.
My second-in-command jolted under it and gave a single nod. “I’ll see it done.” He strode from the tent, the flap fluttering behind him.
Alone, my shoulders slumped. I breathed out, feeling like Eury again. I didn’t know what this trial was or exactly how I was being tested. I only knew I had to do the next best thing, whatever the moment called for.
And right now, I needed to breach those walls. I needed to rescue my lover.
From one of the chairs, a plum robe called to me. It hung resplendent over the chair’s back, draping in layers to the animal skin rug. I reached for it, my fingers sinking into the plush fabric.
This was a queen’s piece.
I lifted the robe and swept it over my shoulders. A glittering gold clasp offered itself, and I secured it at my neck. The robe draped to my boots, kissing the ground. I took in a long breath, then straightened.
I emerged from the tent to a different scene. Archers—men and women—stood with bows slung over their chests and arrow fletching blowing in the quivers secured at their backs. But…
“Cirevan?” I said.
He shouldered his way past the group. “My queen?”
I set my hand on his shoulder, drawing him close. “Where are the rest?”
He paused. “This is all, my queen.”
My fingers dug into his shoulder. “But there can’t be more than a dozen.”
“We have lost many already.”
A vise tightened around my chest. Why the fuck would I make a promise to breach the walls when we had only two dozen archers?
Beyond, the far-off sounds of battle continued. The kingdom’s wall rose like a mountain in the distance. I shifted my eyes away from it to the archers standing before me.
Fear swam in their eyes. Fear and defeat.
We could retreat. Could call off this insanity…
No, a voice said inside me. You’ll win. You’ll win because you can’t fail.
Was that my voice? It hardly sounded like it. But it had been so assertive, so convincing.
I spoke before I knew what words would come out of my mouth. “Come forward, all of you. Stand before me.”
“Stand before your queen.” Cirevan’s voice was sharp and carrying. “Be quick.”
The archers crowded before me. My gaze passed over them. These were dusky Unseelie, all of them from the Sylvanwild Court. These were my people, Carys’s people. I had yet to see a fae who wasn’t Sylvanwild, but I sensed I would know if I ever did.
This was Sylvanwild’s battle. The other courts watched on.
My hand touched the pommel of the dagger. I felt it again, that power. My fingers closed around the grip and I unsheathed it in a whisper. When I touched this dagger, I wasn’t just Eurydice. I felt Carys in me, too.
“This power is the greatest I have ever known.” My gaze passed over the archers before me. “And it does not belong to me alone. Today, I share it with you. Today, we breach these walls and end human dominance.”
Human dominance? Those weren’t my words. But I knew they were right. Humans had spent hundreds of years dominating fae with their sunlit iron. It was how they had captured my lover.
I stepped forward. “Lift your palms.”
The voice was mine, and not mine. The tone was Carys’s, but the will was mine. I saw the shock ripple through the line—and then the obedient palms rising. Gods help me, they obeyed me.
Was this what it felt like? To be feared, to be followed?
The dagger was cold in my palm, but my blood ran hot with certainty. I felt it then—the clarity, the righteousness. For one dazzling moment, I understood how Carys had done it. And I knew what I would do, too.
The archers before me had raised their palms before them as though preparing to receive a blessing. And they would.
I stepped up to the first archer. “May the power of ice and spite carry your arrows far and true.”