Chapter 27
Leaving Oksha was harder than I had thought it would be. As soon as Drak appeared, we set off toward Ceilte alongside the soldiers, leaving behind the destruction Fenric had scattered in his wake.
I cast one last look at the village, feeling the orcs’ eyes boring into us—confusion, anger, and resentment mingling in every gaze.
I couldn’t imagine how Malek would explain everything without making the situation worse.
It felt horrible to leave him with that mess on his hands, unable to help, especially since a large portion of the blame lay with me.
Still, I had no choice but to trust that he would find a way to handle it.
The journey to Ceilte was tense, to say the least. Walking beside a silent Drak and a restless Leone while leading an army of High Fae was hardly my idea of a peaceful stroll through the woods.
The guards of Ceilte watched us with a mixture of suspicion and shame. Most of them had already realized the mistake they’d made by following Fenric’s orders, but Fae pride—fragile as glass—prevented them from admitting it aloud.
Leone remained in charge, his calm authority standing in stark contrast to the shock and confusion left behind by the battle.
"You followed the orders of a traitor," he declared as we trekked through the forest. "Now, you’re going to help us fix that mistake. If my father isn't found, and Fenric is behind this, the only way to prevent an all-out war is by securing peace with the Okshai."
The guards nodded, unable to argue.
Drak remained at my side, alert and watchful. He didn't flash even one of his usual smiles, leaving his expression as serious as Malek’s. In that moment, I understood why he had been chosen as my Ruk’hai’s right hand.
His gaze swept the forest, searching for any movement that might signal danger.
Though tall and broad, he moved with surprising silence, reminiscent of a cat-sìth.
I felt a flicker of gratitude toward Malek for sending him with me.
His presence was steadying—loyal as a wolf and strong as a bear.
I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to protect us, even if it meant fighting beside former enemies.
"How are you?" I asked, breaking the silence that had settled between us—something that had never happened before.
The orc loved to talk and flirt with anything that moved, except for Kalisha, of course. He turned to me, his eyes as green as the foliage surrounding us, studying my face.
"Worried," he replied in Okshakai. "Oksha’s vulnerable."
"Malek will protect them."
"I know," he said, and for a moment the worry in his eyes receded. "But what happened today only shows how easy it is for the kir’shakur to invade our lands."
"I’m so sorry, Drak," I said, lowering my gaze to my feet. I had never felt more ashamed of being High Fae than I did in that moment. "For all of this."
"Don't be. It's not your fault." The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard. "You’re Malek’s krash’uk, so you’re part of the kuturo."
His acceptance sent gentle warmth spreading through my chest. Even after everything that had happened, he still saw me as part of the clan.
"Ma’kari, Drak," I replied, a small smile tugging at my lips.
The orc smiled back and winked, his playful spirit surfacing briefly before his expression turned serious once again.
"Malek’s happy in a way I’ve never seen before. And perhaps our people will finally find peace after centuries of struggle. I think destiny brought you to Oksha, akra’yn."
I shook my head. "I might be able to help with the peace treaty, but you were the ones who saved me. If it weren't for Malek, Kalisha, you, and the others, I wouldn't have survived."
He studied me briefly before responding.
"No. You’re as strong as an Okshai. The blood may be kir’shakur, but the heart…" He struck his chest with a closed fist. "It belongs to the people."
My eyes stung, a lump rising in my throat.
The hardness in Drak’s gaze softened when he rested a heavy hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
The warmth of that touch spread through me, anchoring me in the present.
The fear and guilt receded, replaced by the conviction that I stood exactly where I was meant to be.
Cursed or not, my place was with the Okshai—by Malek’s side.
A weight lifted from my shoulders. My mother had been right after all. The Orb of Caith had brought me exactly where I needed to be.
? ? ?
We reached Ceilte at dusk.
The forest gave way to well-manicured fields, and the magical barrier—the one I once believed to be impenetrable—shimmered beneath the setting sun. The guards who accompanied us lined up, and Drak positioned himself beside me, his hand resting on the axe at his waist.
"You stay here," Leone ordered the guards. "Drak and I will go in with Fiona."
They exchanged glances, clearly confused by the order.
"But, my lord…" one of them began, apprehension evident in his voice.
"You will stay here on guard. If there is any sign of Fenric, notify me immediately."
The guards nodded, still tense, but the authority in Leone’s voice left no room for debate. They dispersed, forming a perimeter around the barrier.
Drak gave me an appraising look before turning toward the shimmering wall.
"How do we get in?" he asked.
"The barrier recognizes Leone and me," I explained, stepping closer to the wall of sparkling magic. "And it will recognize you as my guest, since I am the krash’uk of the Ruk’hai."
I touched the barrier, and the magic responded instantly. The shimmering surface rippled, opening an invisible but safe path. I drew in a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of wildflowers that permeated Ceilte.
The contrast between Oksha and Ceilte was staggering.
The grass appeared greener, the gardens more flamboyant, and the buildings crafted from white marble.
There was no chatter of children, no scent of campfires, and none of the sounds of the orcs' daily lives.
Only the polished grandeur of a kingdom that hid its ugliness beneath layers of marble and magic.
We walked toward the castle, Leone in the lead, me in the middle, and Drak guarding our rear.
Some of the servants, the moment they saw Leone, offered hurried bows. I greeted those I recognized by name, and their eyes widened as they took in my appearance. It reminded me that not everyone had been present in the hall when I was cursed and transformed into an orc.
Leone went straight to the castle’s housekeeper. Alyssandre had worked in Ceilte since before we were born, and my father had always considered her reliable.
Upon seeing us, her grey eyes filled with tears, and she gasped.
"Oh, thanks to the goddess Danu!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands in prayer. "My lord, my lady, you are alive!"
"Lys, where are my parents? What happened here?" Leone inquired.
Alyssandre tried to steady her breathing, her hands trembling. "I don't know, my lord! Lord Alasdair left three days ago for the Autumn Court. Lord Fenric said it was an urgent trip, but…"
"But what, Lys?" Leone pressed, impatience creeping into his voice.
"But he told the guards they should be prepared for 'any eventuality,' and he seemed strangely satisfied."
"He kidnapped my father," Leone murmured, rage sharpening his voice. "We need to act."
"There’s something wrong happening!" Alyssandre grabbed Leone's arm, fear plain in her eyes. "As soon as Lord Alasdair left, Fenric took charge. He imposed a curfew and began acting as though he were the lord of Ceilte."
"He did what?" I asked, incredulity threading through my voice.
"Yes, Lady Fionnuala. He behaves as though the throne were already his. He dismissed several servants and increased his personal guard. I fear he’s plotting something."
"And my mother? Where is she?" I asked.
Alyssandre lowered her gaze to the floor, her shoulders slumping.
"Lady Laurelin is missing, my lady. No one knows where she went or what happened."
Leone and I exchanged worried glances. Drak, sensing our unease, stepped closer. Alyssandre immediately retreated a step, her eyes widening with unmistakable fear.
Her reaction stirred my protective instincts. I reached for Drak, keeping my hand on his massive arm in quiet support.
"This is Drak," I said. "He’s our ally, Lys—just as the people of Oksha are."
Questions and fear still lingered in her grey eyes. However, once she noticed that both Leone and I stood firmly beside him, she gave Drak a small, respectful bow.
"It’s a pleasure, my lord."
Drak’s eyebrows shot upward at the title, but he recovered quickly. With his usual gallantry, he smiled at Lys and inclined his head.
"The pleasure is mine."
I bit my lip to stifle a laugh as Lys’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Orcish charm, I suspected, might soon become as legendary as their skill with an axe.
“Fiona?!”
A familiar voice rang out, and I turned just in time for a whirlwind of motion to crash into me. The scent of walnuts and blackberries reached me the instant Kristan wrapped me in a crushing hug.
"Kristan!" I returned the embrace with equal strength, lifting her easily off the ground. Relief surged through me at the sight of her safe and sound. "You're okay!"
She pulled back slightly, seemingly unaware that she still hung in my arms. The difference in our size was striking.
In my new body, she looked like a delicate doll cradled against me.
Her beautiful green eyes shimmered with emotion, her lashes fluttering while one small, soft hand rose to cup my face.
"By the Goddess, Fiona… I thought… we all thought…" She swallowed hard, her voice breaking. "We were so worried. After you left, Lady Laurelin had a dream. She saw you being attacked by a dùthragh in the forest."
"This actually happened, Kristan," I said, helping her back to her feet. "But Malek saved me. I have so much to tell you."
Kristan finally noticed we weren't alone and spun around, coming face-to-face with Drak. I had to stifle another laugh while watching her take him in from head to toe. It was her first time seeing an orc up close, aside from me, and the height difference was almost absurd—her head barely reached Drak’s abs.
I introduced them just as I had with Lys, though Drak’s smile turned noticeably warmer when he saw Kristan. Her beauty and sweetness could enchant nearly anyone, even an orc.
"Well, this is all very touching, but we need to know what happened to Laurelin," Leone interrupted, immediately drawing Kristan's attention.
Her cheeks darkened, making the freckles across her nose and cheekbones stand out even more. My friend had never hidden the affection she felt for Leone, though he had never returned it—or at least, I didn’t think he had.
"I know where she is," my friend said. "In fact, I helped her escape."
Leone and I exchanged startled glances. Alyssandre brought her hands to her mouth in shock.
"Escape? Where to, Kristan?" I asked, urgency weighing heavily in my voice.
"She went after Merith."
She explained that my mother had suspected Fenric would attempt something against the court. Rumors of a coup d'état had already reached the Lord and Lady, and they had prepared themselves.
"Lady Laurelin said she would settle things with Merith and bring you back home."
A mixture of worry and love tightened my chest at the thought of my mother. There was no better mother in the world—she would sacrifice everything to protect us. That knowledge only deepened my guilt, because I didn't want her to fix anything.
I had finally found my place in the world.
"She shouldn't have done that," I said, shaking my head.
"Your mother would do anything for you, Fiona," Kristan reminded me, her eyes filled with tenderness. "She loves you."
Leone nodded, his brow furrowed with concern. He glanced toward Drak, a silent understanding forming between them—the polished prince and the scarred warrior, united by the same mission.
"We need to know where Merith lives. Did she tell you anything, Kristan?"
Kristan shook her head, dejected. "No… I'm sorry."
Great. That complicated everything.
"I can go after your mother," Drak said, speaking for the first time since Kristan arrived. "You focus on solving the problems here."
My eyes widened at the offer. Leone looked equally surprised.
"No, Drak. We couldn't ask that of you," I said. "Besides, we don't even know where to start."
"He's right, Fi," Kristan intervened, glancing briefly toward the orc, who smiled at her. Her cheeks flushed. "You already have so much to handle. I can help him."
"Kristan…"
"We can perform a tracking spell," Leone said, sounding more energized than before. "We just need a strand of Mama's hair. After that, Drak can track her."
"And me!" Kristan stepped forward, determination shining in her eyes. "If he goes alone, your mother won't listen to him. Besides, if Merith sees an orc with me, she might realize she was wrong about our people and break the curse."
Despite her determination, every instinct in me screamed to refuse. Kristan had never even held a blade, yet here she was, asking to walk straight into danger. I didn't doubt her courage—but I feared for her safety.
"I’ll protect her with my life, akra’yn," Drak promised. "Don’t worry."
To unsettle me even further, Kristan took my hands and smiled.
"You always told me to stop being a fearful little mouse," she reminded me, her voice soft but unwavering. "Let me do this for you. Please."
I looked at Drak, then at Leone, and finally at Kristan. In her green eyes, I saw the strength I admired so deeply. She was willing to risk everything—for me, for all of us.
"All right," I conceded. "But you'll do exactly what Drak says. Don’t take risks. Your safety comes first."
Kristan smiled broadly, her entire face lighting up. I noticed Drak’s eyes widen, his breath catching briefly at the sight of her smile.
"I promise."
"Great. Now that this is settled, let's cast the spell," Leone declared.
And so, we began the journey to find my mother—and rescue my father.