Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
CAIRN
The pull has been steady all afternoon, drawing me eastward with an insistence that has grown stronger with every mile. I know who they are now. The threads are no longer just a vague impression. They’re clear enough for me to be able to identify each one.
Kaelith. Sorel. Vessara.
Three more of my Guard. Alive. And somehow, impossibly, free.
The road crests a low rise, and a village appears in the valley below. There must be thirty or forty buildings clustered around a central square. Smoke rises from chimneys. Lamplight glows in windows as the sun drops toward the horizon …
And the threads lead directly into it.
I pull Selveryn to a halt, and Alleria’s arms tighten around my waist, her body tensing against my back.
“Cairn?” Therin rides up beside me, Vel flanking my other side.
I stare down at the village, while the threads inside me hum, pulling me toward it.
“They’re down there.”
Therin goes still. “In that village?”
“Yes.”
Behind us, the six freed fae wait. They’ve been quiet since we rescued them. Still processing that they’re free. But I can feel their eyes on my back.
“It could be a trap.” Vel’s voice is flat. “Humans using them as bait.”
“No.” I test the threads again. “The connections are calm. There’s no distress or pain.”
“Then why are they in a human settlement?”
I don’t have an answer for that.
I swing down from Selveryn. Alleria slides off a moment later.
“Do you want me to scout ahead?” Therin also dismounts.
“No. I’ll call them to me.”
“What does that mean?” Alleria asks, but I’m already turning away. I don’t have time to explain. Not that she would understand anyway. It’s best to simply let her see.
Our steeds dissolve back into mist and Therin and Vel position themselves on either side of me without being told to. Old instincts. Old formations. The three of us have stood like this a thousand times before.
I close my eyes and reach for the Nightwild magic. It rises fast.
The power has been rebuilding steadily since the collar broke, knitting itself back together after centuries of suppression.
It answers eagerly now, flooding through me.
The threads that connect me to Therin and Vel flare first, familiar and solid.
They both stiffen beside me as the call washes over them.
I push harder.
The magic spreads outward like ripples in still water, searching for the connections that have been reforming.
Serath’s thread pulses back at me from the direction of the camp, distant but steady.
Another joins it, fainter but there … Caelum, I realize with a surge of relief.
More present than before. Not lost to us after all.
Further still. The magic reaches for the village below, finding the three threads that have been pulling at me for days.
Come to me.
The command doesn’t leave my lips. It travels through the bond itself.
I push harder still.
The call intensifies, becoming something that can’t be mistaken for anything else. It’s a command. The magic that made them my Guard, that bound them to me through blood and oath and power, pours through the connection until all the threads sing with it.
Beside me, I hear Therin’s sharp intake of breath followed by a thud. When I glance over, he’s on one knee, head bowed. His jaw is locked, every muscle in his neck standing out as he fights the compulsion to submit fully.
“Cairn—” His voice comes through gritted teeth. “Could have warned me.”
The magic doesn’t care that he’s beside me. It doesn’t care that he’s already answered, already given his loyalty. It’s older than either of us, and when the Eldráfn calls, the Guard answers. That’s how it’s always been.
Vel is still standing, but barely. Her legs are shaking, her hands fisted at her sides, every muscle locked against the weight of the summons pressing down on her. Stubborn to the bone. She won’t kneel. Not unless it’s absolutely necessary.
“Eldráfn—” The word grinds out of her.
I don’t ease off. The call needs to be strong enough that every single living member of my Guard, even the ones I can’t feel yet, know exactly who’s coming.
The freed fae have gone still, pressing close to their horses. They don’t have the Nightwild connection, but they can feel the pressure in the air, the ancient magic flexing around them. Their horses stamp and toss their heads, eyes rolling white.
And Alleria—
I feel her through both connections. The blood magic I forged, and the Nightwild threads that are still weaving themselves around her despite my resistance. This summons isn’t meant for her. She hasn’t accepted the Guard. She hasn’t taken the oath.
But the magic chose her anyway. And now it’s pulling at her the same way it pulls at the rest of them.
Her breath catches. Her hand presses against her chest, fingers digging into the fabric over her heart. Her breathing has turned shallow, her pupils dilated. I can feel her confusion spiraling closer to panic. Her body shifts toward me, drawn like iron to lodestone.
She has no idea what is happening. And the part of my mind not focused on the summons acknowledges that she’s going to have questions about this that I won’t be able to avoid easily.
“What—” She stumbles a step closer. “What is that? What are you—”
She doesn’t finish. She can’t. The magic has its hooks in her now.
I hold the call for three more heartbeats, then let it fade.
Therin pushes himself to his feet, rolling his shoulders. “A warning would have been nice.”
I give him a sidelong look. “Consider it a test.”
“Of what?”
“Your control. Our connection.” I look at Vel, who’s still trembling slightly. “For both of you.”
“Bastard,” she mutters, but there’s no real heat to the word. Her mouth even twitches a little.
Therin laughs, then breaks off, his head snapping toward the village. Three figures have appeared at the edge of the settlement, all moving fast along the road.
Running toward us.
They move the way only fae can move, eating up the ground in long, fluid strides that would leave any human gasping for air. Even from this distance, I recognize them. It’s in the way they run, the way they hold their bodies, and that particular grace that marks them as Nightwild Guards.
Kaelith reaches us first.
I haven’t seen him in over three centuries. I wasn’t even sure he’d been trapped on this side of the Sealing. But I’d know him anywhere.
When he sees me, he stops dead. For a heartbeat, he just stares at me. His chest heaves. His eyes are bright, too bright, and his mouth works, but no sound comes out.
Then his knees hit the dirt.
“Cairn!” The word tears out of him. His head bows. His hands press flat against the earth. “Eldráfn.”
Sorel and Vessara reach us a heartbeat later. They drop beside him without hesitation, foreheads nearly touching the ground, shoulders shaking.
I look down at them. Three hundred years and they’re still here. Still mine.
“We felt it.” Kaelith’s voice is rough. “We felt the bond sever. One moment you were there, and then nothing. We thought you were dead—” A shudder runs through him.
“But no one rose to take your place. The magic didn’t pass.
So we thought that maybe the Sealing had done something.
That maybe you were on the other side, and we were cut off. ”
Sorel makes a choked sound beside him. “But you’re here. You’re here.”
“I’m here.” My voice is soft. “Get up. All of you.”
They rise slowly, while Therin moves to stand at my right.
Vel stays where she is, arms crossed. Vessara’s face is wet, and she makes no move to hide it.
Sorel’s jaw is clenched so tight, I can almost hear his teeth grinding together.
Kaelith keeps blinking, as though he’s expecting us to disappear at any second.
Then Kaelith moves. He closes the distance between us and pulls me into an embrace before I can react. Every muscle in my body goes rigid for a second before I catch myself.
This is Kaelith. One of mine.
I bring my arms up and hold him back. After a second, he pulls back, and Sorel replaces him. His embrace is brief, but fierce. Then Vessara. She holds on longer, her face pressed against my chest, her whole body shaking.
Therin moves forward then. He doesn’t say a word, just reaches out and grips Kaelith’s forearm. And that’s when Kaelith’s composure shatters.
He drags Therin into an embrace that is half hug, half collapse. Therin catches him, holds him, his own eyes turning glassy.
“You massive, stubborn fool.” Therin’s voice is thick. “You’re still alive.”
“So are you.” Kaelith pulls back, gripping Therin’s shoulders. “I thought … we thought we’d lost all of you. Every fae we hear about, every one we find … we hoped we would find one of you.”
Vel steps forward. For a moment, she just looks at them, her jaw tight. Then her gaze finds Vessara. They stare at each other, then Vessara closes the distance. Vel lets herself be pulled in, and when Vessara’s arms wrap around her, she holds on.
Sorel moves to Therin, pressing his forehead to his shoulder. Kaelith keeps one hand on Therin’s arm, and reaches the other toward Vel.
The bond between us all burns bright, renewed, and strengthened by proximity. I can feel their joy, their relief, their disbelief. And beneath it, the bone-deep loyalty that nothing can ever erase.
They’re mine. They’ve always been mine. And as I stand there, that ever-present knot in my chest loosens a little more.
Kaelith finally releases Vel and turns back to me. He takes a breath, steadying himself.
“We should have found you. We should have searched every preserve—”
“You would have gotten yourself collared.” I shake my head. “Or killed. There was nothing for you to follow. The bond was severed. I was … I was hidden even from myself.”
“We should have tried anyway.” Vessara’s voice wobbles. “Three hundred years, Eldráfn. We should have tried.”
“And I would have lost you.” I hold her gaze until she looks down. “You survived. That’s all that matters.”
She swallows hard, but doesn’t argue further.
“Why are you here?” I look toward the village. “In a human settlement?”
The three of them exchange glances, and something passes between them. Some shared understanding that I’m not privy to.
“The humans here are different,” Kaelith says.
Vel snorts. “Different how?”
“They know what we are. They’ve been sheltering fae since not long after the Sealing.” He pauses, reading Vel’s expression. “I know how it sounds. But they’ve bled for us. Some have died for us. Their families have kept our secrets for generations.”
Humans bleeding for fae? Humans dying for fae?
“We can explain everything.” Kaelith glances around. “But not here. Not in the open. Will you come?”
I consider his words. The threads that connect me to them are stable now, humming with renewed strength.
I can sense no deception in any of them, no hesitation or fear.
Just a relief so profound it bleeds through the bond …
and some curiosity. They keep glancing at the six fae behind me, and the human female standing rigid and pale.
They have questions, but they’re too disciplined to ask until I’m ready to answer.
“Lead the way.”
Kaelith turns toward the village. Sorel and Vessara fall into step with Therin and Vel, the five of them close enough that their shoulders brush. Behind them, the six fae follow, leading their horses.
And Alleria walks at my side. She hasn’t said a word since I released the summons, but I can feel her mind racing.
The village streets are quiet as we enter, but I catch movement behind windows—faces appearing, then withdrawing. Most are human. Some, though, are not. I get glimpses of pointed ears, skin that gleams faintly in the fading light, eyes that reflect like an animal’s.
Fae. Living free in a human village. Without any glamour. Beside me, Alleria makes a small, strangled sound.
“This isn’t possible,” she breathes. “Humans and fae … they don’t—”
Kaelith overhears her. “Yes, they do. Here, at least.”
She falls silent, but those questions keep building.
“Is there somewhere we can talk?” I keep my voice low. “Without drawing an audience?”
Kaelith nods. “There are rooms at the inn we can use. They’re private and we keep them warded.”
The inn sits at the center of the village, larger than the other buildings, with warm light spilling from its windows, and the smell of cooked food filling the air. Kaelith leads us inside, where a fire crackles in the hearth.
My gaze sweeps over the room, and I stop in the doorway. There are eight fae sitting at various tables, a couple are alone, the others are sitting with human companions. One of the fae is laughing, his hand on a human’s arm.
Conversation falters as we enter. A fae male looks up, and his mouth drops open. He’s on his feet before I take another step. One by one, the other fae rise. The humans look between them, frowning … and then the male sinks to one knee, followed by every other fae in the room.
A middle-aged human woman looks up from behind the counter. She smiles warmly at Kaelith, opens her mouth to speak, and then notices the kneeling fae. She tracks their gaze to me, and goes very still.
“Sharla.” Vessara steps forward. “We need the top floor.”
“Of course.” The woman’s voice is steady, but her hands tremble slightly as she reaches beneath the counter and holds out a heavy looking bronze key. Her eyes dart to me again.
I turn to the kneeling fae. “Please, there is no need.”
They rise slowly, eyes still fixed on me. The male who knelt first opens his mouth, closes it, then shakes his head.
Vessara turns to me. “The top floor of the inn is kept for our use. For those we bring here who need … space. Time. It helps, having somewhere quiet to adjust.”
I don’t reply. My mind is already working through everything I’ve seen and heard, cataloging details, and wondering if there’s a trap being laid that I haven’t quite worked out yet. But the bond tells me my warriors trust this place. And for now, that has to be enough.
Kaelith is already moving. “Sorel, food. Vessara, get them settled and find Fiena. Tell her we have six who may need her.”
Sorel clasps his shoulder as he passes, heading for the kitchen. Vessara gathers the six fae and guides them toward the stairs ahead of us. They go willingly, too exhausted and overwhelmed to do anything else.
Kaelith turns back to me. His eyes flick to Alleria then away. “We can arrange a room for—”
“She remains with me.”
Kaelith’s eyebrows rise slightly, but he doesn’t question it. “Of course.”
“Get everyone settled, then come to me. We have a lot to discuss.”
“Yes, Eldráfn.” There’s warmth to the words … and relief. “If you’ll follow me?”
He heads up the stairs. I take one more look around the inn, at the fae still staring, and the bewildered humans, then follow him, Alleria close beside me.