Chapter 3
THREE
CAIRN
“—breathing. Roll him—”
“I’m not blind, Therin. Move!”
Vel and Therin snap at each other above my head. The irritation in their voices is a tether, dragging me back from the dark. If they’re arguing, then I must still be alive.
I roll onto my back before their hands can do it for me, and take inventory of my body. My jaw throbs from clenching it tight. Every muscle feels battered and wrung out. But the screaming pressure that sent me to oblivion is gone.
Whatever the Nightwild magic did to me, it’s finished, leaving me anchored to hundreds of fae scattered across the kingdom.
I don’t need to reach for them to know they’re there.
But if I focus on a single one, I can trace it back to its owner, the same way I can with my Guard.
And every one of them is heading in my direction.
“Cairn?” Therin’s voice is closer, and the hand on my shoulder squeezes. “Can you hear me?”
It takes effort to open my eyes. His face comes into focus, stripped of its usual arrogant smirk. Serath crouches beside him. Vel stands on his other side, and beyond them, the rest of the Guard are watching me.
“How—” I clear my throat. “How long?”
“Long enough. An hour, maybe less. Can you sit up?”
I brace my palms against the ground, and I slowly push myself upright, waiting for the horizon to tilt, or nausea to hit, but it doesn’t. Everything stays as it should.
“You went down hard. There was a moment there, when—”
“We need to get off the road before we’re seen,” Vel cuts in. “Can you stand?”
“Give me a second.”
“We’re too exposed out here. If you can stand, we need to move.”
I don’t bother arguing with her. She’s not wrong. I reach up and take Therin’s offered hand, letting him haul me to my feet. A wave of dizziness hits then, making me sway. His grip is the only thing that keeps me on my feet.
“Call your steeds.”
Selveryn forms immediately. Light shimmers across his flanks, sparks flying from his neck and hooves. He stamps the earth, tossing his head with a restlessness that mirrors my own.
My eyes narrow as I study him. He’s more present than he has been since the Sealing.
The magic running through me must have changed more than I thought.
It feels wilder, less contained than it was.
As though breaking the collars across the kingdom has unleashed something within the Nightwild magic itself.
I set the thought aside. Now is not the time to test the limits of my power.
Not when there is a very real risk of being discovered so close to the human capital.
I swing up into the saddle while the rest of the Guard mount up around me.
“You look like shit,” Therin says.
I meet his eyes, noting the tension around his eyes and mouth. “And you look like you’ve been crying.”
“Fuck off.”
I give him a slight bow from my saddle. “After you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, a fleeting return to the warrior I know, then he wheels Kaethros around and takes up position on my right.
“We return to the camp.” It takes every ounce of discipline I possess not to turn Selveryn’s head toward the palace. The two bonds connecting me to Alleria burn in my chest, but I don’t reach through them.
I have to trust that the barrier I built will remain steady. I have to trust that she can hold on until I can get to her.
She has to.
We reach the camp just as the sky begins to lighten.
Concealed behind wards, the clearing doesn’t exist until we step through the boundary.
Then the illusion drops, and the camp opens around us—the stream, the shelters, low fires banked against the dark.
The two fae on guard duty dip their heads in acknowledgement of our arrival, but say nothing.
Dismounting, I let Selveryn dissolve into a spray of sparks that fade before they hit the dirt. I roll my shoulders, trying to ease the ache in them, then start walking toward my shelter at the far edge of the clearing.
“How do you feel?” Therin falls into step beside me.
I glance over at him. “Different.”
“Good different, or bad different?”
“Ask me tomorrow.” My response is distracted.
Something is tugging at my attention. It isn’t the bonds connecting me to Alleria, or the Nightwild magic, or even the new threads it’s forced into me. This is something else. A sensation more than anything.
For less than a heartbeat, my lungs fill with the scent of wild magic, rich forests, and flowing rivers. It tastes of air I haven’t breathed in three hundred years.
I stop dead, my muscles locking as the magic inside me lunges for it. As quickly as it came, it’s gone, leaving me standing there wondering if I imagined it.
“Cairn?”
I wave one hand, forcing myself to take a breath of flat, empty human air. “I’m fine, Therin.”
“You keep saying that, and it continues to not be true.”
“Fae can’t lie.”
He snorts.
“Make yourself useful and find somewhere for Kaelith and the others to rest, then go to your own bed. I’m going to walk the perimeter and check the wards.”
They don’t need checking, I just want a few minutes alone. For once, Therin doesn’t argue with me. He holds my gaze, then turns away to deal with the others.
I walk the perimeter in the dark, nodding to the guards standing watch in the shadow as I pass them, and test each anchor point. The familiar hum of ward magic pushes back against me, but they hold steady. I didn’t expect to find anything else.
By the time I finish and return to my shelter, the little energy I have is gone, and every step is heavy as I walk through the entrance. Therin is waiting for me.
I stop just inside the threshold, and lift one eyebrow. “I’m fairly sure this is where my bed is, not yours.”
“And?” He doesn’t even look up, simply slides a plate across the table toward me. The rich scent of roasted meat rises from it, and my stomach immediately twists with hunger.
I cross the small space, and lower myself onto the chair opposite him. “I seem to recall telling you to get some rest.”
“I’m not the one who decided to single-handedly free every fae in the kingdom, then collapse in the dirt. If anyone needs rest, it’s not me.”
My smile is faint, but I pull the plate closer. “I will rest. But not while you’re hovering like a mother worried about her newborn.”
“I’m serious, Cairn.” His flippant tone drops. “If you don’t rest, then you’ll make mistakes. And if we want any chance of getting Alleria out of that place …”
I don’t hear the rest of his words. My consciousness is already sliding down the blood bond to Alleria.
For a second the physical world bleeds through.
I can see her sitting on the floor of the cell, forehead pressed to her knees.
She’s breathing in shallow, ragged gasps that hitch each time she inhales.
Then the image is gone, and I’m slipping through the thorned barrier I left in place to protect her mind.
I let my presence settle into the quiet space behind it, and wait.
For the span of three heartbeats, nothing happens. Then she appears in front of me, and the sight of her nearly shatters my control.
Her hair is matted with blood. Her right eye is swollen shut, the flesh around it purple and black. There are marks on every visible inch of her skin. And her clothing … My jaw locks. Her dress and the shift beneath it are torn, hanging off one shoulder, and exposing most of one breast.
She sways on her feet, arms wrapped around her middle. Her one clear eye blinks in dazed confusion. Then her gaze finds me.
“Cairn?” My name is a broken, disbelieving whisper.
I close the distance between us and pull her into my arms. The sound she makes as she hits my chest …
It’s a shattered, hollow whimper. And I have absolutely no doubt I will hear it in nightmares for centuries to come.
Her hands lift, shaking violently, and her fingers fist into my shirt.
She presses her face into my chest, her body trembling against mine.
Through the blood bond and the newly awakened Nightwild bond, her emotions hit me.
I stagger, then brace myself as her pain and suffocating shame bombard me from all sides.
I force the wave back, ruthlessly caging my own answering fury, and wrap one arm tighter around her.
My head lowers to find her temple, and I press a kiss to her forehead, the bruised edge of her eye, her cheek, then her lips.
“I’m here,” I whisper. “I’ve got you, Aethryn.”
“I didn’t think—” Her tears are hot and wet against my throat, her breath catching on a sob. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
“I’m here.” It’s all I can say. Anything more and the rage trying to force its way out will erupt.
Her arms snake around my waist, and she presses closer, seeking my warmth. My free hand lifts to the back of her head, fingers sliding gently into her matted hair, and I cradle her close. My lips move over her skin in featherlight kisses.
“Tell me what happened.”
Her words come slow and stilted at first. I let her set the pace, holding her against me while images bleed down the bond between us.
Waking up in the cell. Being hauled up the stairs to Brennan’s quarters. The warmth of the room, the smell of the soup. The way the captain of the guard sat across from her and treated her the way he used to.
“I almost gave in,” she whispers. “I almost fell into the web he was spinning because I was so scared … so tired.”
I feel her shame, her self-disgust, and she tries to pull away from me. I don’t let her, holding her tighter, and refusing to let her retreat into the dark. “Keep talking.”
“And then … when … when he realized I wasn’t going t-to break, he … he …” She meets my gaze, and the sheer terror in her eye nearly drives me to my knees. “That’s when he tried to … That’s when he put his hands on me.”
The anger that rises in response is not an emotion. It’s a living, starving beast that demands blood. It wants to tear through the barrier, ride into the capital, and paint the palace walls with Brennan’s insides.
I swallow it down, ruthlessly squashing the fire with the iron-clad control I learned while I was caged and collared.
She doesn’t need to see my rage. In her current state, she will think it’s directed at her.
She needs me to be steady, gentle, to listen, while I think about all the ways I’m going to kill the man who did this to her.
“There was a knife on the tray.” Her voice changes, dropping into a chilling detachment that worries me.
“He was trying to push his hand between my legs, and he was kissing my neck. I saw the butter knife. I … I remembered what you said. I grabbed it and then I … I knew it wasn’t sharp enough to do real damage so I … I drove it into his eye.”
My reaction is immediate. Magic licks across my skin, turning the black marks of Nightwild to silver, and casting shadows across her face. I cup her cheeks between my palms, thumbs tracing gently over the bruises coloring her skin, and lean my forehead against hers.
“You didn’t hesitate.” My voice isn’t steady.
“No, not this time.”
She loosens her grip on my waist to cover my hands with hers, and presses her lips against my palm.
The simple gesture is like a knife to the gut. This human woman is giving her trust to a fae who did as much damage to her as the man she grew up believing in.
“He beat me afterward.” Her lips brush against my skin.
“I think he would have killed me if my father hadn’t sent for me.
” She pauses. “He didn’t care, Cairn. My father, I mean.
He just looked at what Brennan had done to me and dismissed it.
Then he …” She swallows. “Then he called me a traitor, and sentenced me to death. Tomorrow, at high sun.”
A tear falls onto my hand.
“I’m scared.” Her voice breaks, stripped of her usual defiance. “I don’t want to die.”
“You won’t.” My hand slides to her chin and I tip her face up. “When they bring you out, I’ll be there. I’ll come for you.”
“How? You need to protect the fae and the humans who helped them. Brennan will send soldiers.” Even now, facing the gallows, she’s worrying about my people. “They’ll—”
“I need you to trust me.” I brush her lips with mine. “Do you think you can do that for me?”
She sucks in a shuddering breath, releases it, then nods.
At the edge of my awareness, Therin calls my name.
“I have to go.” I kiss the corner of her mouth. “You’re strong, Aethryn. Make a bargain with me?”
“What kind of bargain?”
“Stay alive and I’ll come for you. I swear it.” I touch her lips one more time. “Do we have a bargain?”
She sniffs, swallows, then lifts her chin, finding that stubborn defiant core that never fails to fascinate me.
“Yes.”
I don’t want to leave, but Therin calls to me again. My fingers trail over her jaw.
“Tomorrow, Alleria.” I pull back along the blood bond, back to my body.
When I open my eyes, Therin is crouched in front of me. My cheeks are wet, my fingers clenched into fists against my thighs, and the fury inside me is a burn that will not go out until Brennan is dead and I have Alleria back.
I wipe my face with the back of my hands. Wisely, Therin doesn’t comment. He straightens when I meet his gaze.
“Get the others.”