Chapter 44
The Best Laid Plans
Everything happened so fast that I couldn’t tell who wielded magic first as the scene before me devolved into utter chaos. Evidently, each side came with a kill-first, ask-questions-later memo I never received.
“Run,” Tarrin yelled, grabbing me by the wrist with a death grip as he yanked me into motion hot on Sidrick’s heels.
I couldn’t form words. Couldn’t think. If it wasn’t for Tarrin’s bruising hands digging into my wrist, I’m not sure I would’ve broken free from those stormy-gray eyes that haunted my dreams since I ran away.
“Shit,” Sidrick said, though it took me a moment to realize it was him—he never swore. Tarrin grunted in agreement a second before he wrenched me sideways.
“Ny!” Tarrin yelled before stopping so abruptly I crashed into his chest. Shifting his grip to my shoulders he shook me, hard. “Focus. Now.”
I tried. Gods, I tried so hard to do as he asked.
“We don’t have time to stop!” Sidrick yelled back at us as fire ignited around him.
“Give me a second,” Tarrin snapped. “She’s in shock, and I bloody well can’t help you if I’m dragging her along.”
Soft, pleading teak eyes filled my vision. In a calm voice, Tarrin said, “Ny, this isn’t a dream or a vision. This is very real, and I need you to come back to me and fight.”
Heart racing. Mind reeling. I screamed at myself to move, to get it together—
“Fuck it,” he said, and a second later, Tarrin’s mouth crashed against mine as he slid his hands on either side of my face.
“Tarrin,” I screeched, stepping back as I slapped his face. “What the fu—”
“Good,” he said, cutting me off. “Now use your magical daggers and show these fuckers why you’re the spark.”
Without another word, he unsheathed his sword and went to Sidrick. An explosion sounded at my back, and my feet finally carried me forward.
Blades now in hand, Sidrick nodded at me before leading the way past the scorched earth littered with not one, not two, but three charred skeletons of massive four-legged beasts that would’ve easily come close to Luca’s saddle height. Gulping, I didn’t ask questions as we hauled ass.
We ran all out for as long as we could until Tarrin’s lungs sounded like they’d explode.
“You two okay?” Sidrick asked through labored pants.
Hands on knees, Tarrin and I sucked in air as we nodded. Catching my breath enough to speak, I said, “Though, this one won’t be if he pulls that shit again.” I shoved Tarrin’s side, my lack of oxygen made the attempt feeble.
“It was that, or slap you,” he said, with a grin. “I chose love, not war.”
I rolled my eyes at him and lifted my dagger with little malice, but the point remained—don’t.
“Fine,” he said, standing tall, “next time I’ll choose war.” He winked at me, and I half-scoffed, half-laughed as I shook my head.
Keeping my daggers in hand, I righted myself and looked to Sidrick. “I don’t understand what happened.”
His features darkened, and my heart ached for him—for his brother. By running, we could’ve very well doomed Artton and Kaelun to death. I shoved that thought deep down and locked it away. Swallowing, Sidrick said, “We were ambushed.
“Come on, grab some water and let’s keep going. I want to get as far away from whatever the hells that was.”
Shifting our packs off our backs, we pulled our skins out and took deep gulps of water before falling back into our formation; Sidrick, me, Tarrin.
“With your shielding unara, and your brother’s ability to detect magic, how was that possible?” I asked.
Sidrick’s shoulder tightened. “I don’t know. Kaelun’s unara has been tested in the field against every type of magic—as has mine. They’ve never failed.”
“And the beasts?” Tarrin asked, referencing the littered bones we’d stepped over as we ran away.
Sidrick’s swallow was audible as he said, “There isn’t a beast out there whose name, court origin, magic source, weaknesses, and disposal method I couldn’t tell you.
But as the Mother is my witness, I have no idea what in the seven hells those things were.
All I know is that they didn’t seem to care about me; they just wanted to get to you.
” He looked over his shoulder at me, his dark-brown eyes swimming with concern.
I mulled over this information, playing it through my mind again and again as if there was a thread of reason to pull as we made our way south. “Tarrin!” I exclaimed, turning around to face him. He’d already stopped, and I knew he’d come to the same conclusion as I had.
“What?” Sidrick asked, coming up beside us.
Tarrin rubbed his face with both hands hard enough that the stubble made a dry scratching sound before digging his fingers into his mahogany. “I’m sorry. I should’ve anticipated this,” he said, dropping his hands, hair now fully mussed.
The summer fae’s features turned to stone. “Anticipated what?” There was a sharp warning in his tone.
Sheathing my daggers, I took a step closer to him. “You said that both of your unaras have been tested against all magic, yes?”
Crossing his arms, Sidrick’s brow ticked up a fraction before nodding once.
“Against all fae, magic,” I said, leading him to find the answer for himself.
It only took a heartbeat or two before his chest paused with a held breath, eyes going wide.
Unfolding his arms, he brought his hand to his hairline as if looking through a window—and perhaps he was seeing where they’d miscalculated.
“Spellcraft,” he said simply, then slowly lowered his hands to look at me, then Tarrin.
“Spellcraft,” he confirmed.
Silence fell as we realized our error.
“Damn it!” Sidrick cursed, then turned and smashed the heel of his palm against a nearby aspen, shaking free dozens of bright yellow leaves. “Damn it,” he said again, this time more resigned than anything.
“Sidrick,” I said softly, “this isn’t your fault. Your histories recorded the end of spellcraft when you believed the Alton bloodline destroyed. If anything, Tarrin and I should’ve probed more about your unaras and their capacities.”
The truth was, we’d planned for Thaddeus. Had contingencies for his powers. But we’d missed this completely by unintentionally assuming Thaddeus’ brand of magic was fundamentally the same as fae magic.
“Assigning blame isn’t going to help—even toward myself,” Sidrick conceded.
Turning my focus to Tarrin, I said, “Thaddeus had no idea where I was after I left, right?”
He shook his head. “No. He didn’t. None of us did. Why?”
“He tried to track me, like when I went missing at the summer solstice, right?”
“He did. From the first moment he realized you weren’t on the grounds. He checked every day, sometimes up to ten times a day. It was an obsession of his.”
I physically had to shake the feeling of that truth before continuing.
“So why now? How is he able to find me? We all know it’s not because Wymond somehow tracked our magic.
So, how is Thaddeus doing it? Because I’m not inclined to believe they just happened upon us back there,” I said, pointing from where we came, well aware we couldn’t stay still much longer.
“She’s right,” Sidrick said. “Each court is massive, and we were too far from the palace to accidentally run into anyone, let alone Thaddeus himself.”
“The… hounds?” Tarrin hedged, clearly not sure what to call the abominations. “Couldn’t they have just scented us like any other animal? Gods, aren’t fae senses strong enough to hunt us on scent alone?”
I cringed, my mind drifted to the books Endymion had given me—more specifically the passage that discussed how the Autumn Court had begun experimenting in the hopes of crafting new breeds of beasts that could be deployed as weapons.
However, when the sanctions had come down after the fall of Wymond’s great-great-grandfather, they were strictly forbidden against it.
In fact, all their resources—including the fae directly involved—were relocated to the Spring Court, where they could pour their efforts into projects that could benefit the fae, or Lumnara as a whole.
While I may hate Thaddeus for a great many reasons, there were two things I knew for certain about him—he was resourceful, and he was patient.
Unfortunately for us, he’d partnered with a court that was losing its patience and was predisposed to violence.
I shuddered just thinking about the evils they could conjure together.
Two different forms of magic, one goal—power.
“No. My unara doesn’t just shield magic,” Sidrick said, drawing my wandering thoughts back. “It shields our existence. While it doesn’t make us invisible, it makes us impossible to track.”
Tarrin and I regarded him with dubious expressions.
Realizing we needed more of an explanation, Sidrick looked around before focusing on the path we came from. “Nyleeria, you’re a hunter, right?” he asked.
I nodded—though I wasn’t sure I’d still classify myself as a hunter.
“As a human, how did you track?”
“Tracks. Dropp—” The words fell dead on my tongue as I understood.
“There are no tracks,” Tarrin said beside me, looking at the sodden ground we’d walked on, only to find it untouched.
As needing to see it for himself, he kicked the leaves under his feet away until he hit earth, then took a step back.
Nothing happened. He took another step. Still, nothing happened.
But in the middle of his third step, the compressed leaves of his first footprint began to plump with moisture as if a magic hand rewove the scene.
“Okay,” I said. “That’s pretty cool.”
Sidrick chuckled. “I suppose it is.”
I frowned, coming to the only logical conclusion. “It’s me. There’s something about me they’re able to track.”
“The way the hounds were focused on only you, I’d have to agree,” Sidrick said, voice solemn.
“So, what do we do?” I asked, trying to stay calm.
“We follow Artton’s orders. But if we continue to run into issues, then we don’t stop at the rendezvous point—we head straight home and report back to Caius.”