Chapter 40
FORTY
CAIRN
The map is still spread across the table from last night. Someone has put a red X through the location of the Dell, leaving only four black markers showing where the remaining preserves are. And now there’s another marker showing where the camp is that holds the Dell’s freed fae.
Other than Therin, everyone is here. Kaelith is sitting across from me, one ankle crossed over his knee. Vessara and Sorel are on the opposite side of the table. Vel is pacing the room.
“The fae you freed from the Dell. How many are there?” Kaelith asks.
“Fifty, give or take.”
“That’s more than we’ve ever had to work with at once, but our network should be able to handle it.”
“How long do you need?”
“If we do it the same way we handle the rest—in small groups, moving them across the kingdom, then three weeks. Maybe four, if we’re extra careful.” He leans forward and taps where the camp marker is. “Sorel knows the safest paths. Vessara can coordinate with our village contacts.”
Vel makes a sound from across the room, not quite a scoff, but close.
“Do you have something to add?” I turn to her. She shakes her head. I return my attention to Kaelith. “All right then. Start immediately. I’ve already asked Therin to stop at the camp on his way back. He’ll tell them to prepare.”
“And then what?” Vel stops pacing. “We settle fifty fae into hiding, and then we sit on our hands for another three hundred years? We need to make a decision on the preserves.”
“Vel—” Kaelith sighs.
“No. We talked about this last night, and didn’t decide anything. We need to—”
I can still feel her body clenched around mine, hear her moans as I thrust deep, taste—
I shake my head, forcing my attention back to the argument going on around me.
“My vote is for Thornwood.” Vel doesn’t wait for anyone else to speak. “It’s closest to the capital now that the Dell is gone. We take it, and the king will feel it. He wakes up to the news that another preserve has been burned to the ground, and the fae are gone.”
“And every soldier in the area will descend on us before we get away.” Kaelith’s voice is mild, but there’s a steel bite beneath. “Thornwood is too visible. Too close to power. We hit it first, and we’re declaring war before we’re ready to fight one.”
“We are already at war. Do you think it ended when Underhill was sealed?”
“There’s a difference between fighting and suicide, Vel.”
“Is there?” Vel rounds on him. “Because from where I’m standing, your version of fighting looks a lot like hiding. One fae at a time, bought at auction like cattle. How many more centuries do you want to spend being careful, Kaelith?”
“As many as it takes to not get us all killed.”
“We’re already dying! Every day we wait, our people are dying in those cages.
Every hunt, every auction, every time some human noble decides they want a new toy—” Her teeth snap together.
“I’m done waiting. I’m done being patient while our people suffer.
We’ll never be ready if we keep waiting for the perfect moment. ”
“There’s a difference between the perfect moment and basic tactical sense.”
Vel slams one hand down onto the table. “Three hundred years, Kaelith. Three hundred years of your tactical sense. How many fae are still in cages?”
“Fewer than there would be if I’d gotten us all killed in the first century.”
“You don't know that.”
“I know what happens when fae get reckless. I’ve buried the ones who couldn’t wait, who thought one bold strike would change everything.” His voice hardens. “I won’t bury you too.”
“I’m not asking for your protection.”
“No. You're asking me to watch you throw yourself at a fortress and pretend it’s strategy. Every reckless attack that fails makes it worse for the ones left behind. Do you think the huntmasters don’t retaliate when fae try to escape?
Do you think they don’t take it out on the ones who can’t run?
” Kaelith stands, his composure cracking.
“Every fae in this network. Every safe house. Every human sympathizer I’ve cultivated over three centuries …
I am not going to risk all those people, because you want to burn it all down for one dramatic gesture! ”
“I want to fight! I want to do something besides watch our people rot while we make plans that don’t go anywhere.”
The way she arched into me, her breath catching, her fingers digging into my shoulders—
I drag my attention back. Kaelith is on his feet now.
“And I want us to be still alive next year to keep fighting! You think I don’t want blood?
You think I haven’t spent all this time dreaming about burning every preserve to the ground?
Because I have. But I’ve also spent that time watching what happens when we’re reckless.
I won’t be the one to add our names to that list, Vel. ”
Vel stares at him. Her fingers have curled into fists at her sides, and her eyes are bright with fury.
“You weren’t in the cages.” Her voice turns quiet. Somehow, that’s worse than the shouting. “You don’t know what it was like.”
“No, I don’t.” Kaelith meets her gaze without flinching.
“But I do know what it was like to watch from the outside. To know our people were suffering and not be able to reach them. I know how it feels to have spent years building this network piece by piece, knowing it would never be enough, but doing it anyway, because it was all I could do.” He pauses, his voice softening.
“We all have our prisons, Vel.” He waves a hand toward Sorel and Vessara. “Ours just didn’t have bars.”
I turn away, my eyes finding the window. Therin should have Alleria outside of the village by now. He’s likely already summoned Kaethros.
“Cairn.”
It’ll take two days for them to reach the palace.
I need to put something in place before then, because if a mage tries to get inside her mind …
Sending her back was a mistake. I knew it when I gave Therin the order, and I know it now.
But it was the only thing I had to offer her in return for what I took.
“Cairn.”
I blink and refocus.
“Ivylock.” Every head turns toward me. “Kaelith’s right. We can’t afford to announce ourselves before we’re ready. Ivylock gives us room to learn, room to make mistakes without dying for them.”
Vel’s eyes snap to mine. “You’re taking his side?”
“I’m making a decision. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” I hold her gaze. “Ivylock first. Then the others. We free them all, Vel. Every fae in every preserve. But we do it in an order that keeps us alive long enough to finish.”
“And how long do we wait? A month? A year? Another century while—”
“Two months.” I cut her off. “Kaelith gathers information from his contacts. We learn everything we can about Ivylock. Two months of preparation, and then we make our move.”
Vel is silent, while she calculates possibilities, and whether the delay is worthwhile, then she nods.
“Two months. Not a day longer.”
“Agreed.”
“If we’re still having this conversation in sixty days, I’m going to Thornwood myself.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Try and stop me.”
“I will stop you.” I stand up, my armor flowing over my body and my blades forming in my hands. “You’re my Guard, Vel. That means you don’t get to throw your life away because you’re tired of waiting. We fight together, or we don’t fight at all.”
She glares at me. I stare her down.
“Do you need a reminder of who I am?”
“No, Eldráfn, I don’t.” Her eyes drop.
I release my magic, returning back to the simple black tunic and pants I was wearing.
“Access.” Sorel’s voice breaks the tension, steering us back to the discussion at hand. “Even with two months of preparation, we will still have the same problem. The Dell worked because Cairn had eyes inside. How do we get that for Ivylock?”
“We gather what information we can from outside. Kaelith’s contacts, traders who move through the area, humans who have visited the preserve. We watch the roads, track the supply wagons, and learn the patterns of the movements in and out.”
“That will only tell us so much.” Kaelith frowns. “We’d know about the exterior, but the interior, the layouts, where fae are held and how the guards are organized … those will all be guesses.”
“Then we stop guessing.” Vel’s voice still has a bite to it. “We hit a supply wagon, take the guards alive and make them talk.”
“Guards don’t always know—”
“Then we take someone who does know. A supervisor, an overseer, someone with actual information.” Her eyes glitter. “I can be very persuasive."
She’s not wrong. Vel’s particular talents for extracting information were legendary even before the Sealing.
“It’s too risky,” Vessara says. “A missing wagon will raise questions.”
“Wagons go missing all the time. Bandits, weather, accidents.” Vel shrugs. “One wagon disappearing on a remote road isn’t going to make anyone think fae are planning an assault.”
My eyes drift to the window again. I could reach down the bond and find out where they are. How far they’ve traveled. Our steeds move fast. They will be miles away by now.
I wrench my mind back.
“—is bad luck. Two or more becomes questionable.”
“If we pick the right target, we will only need one.”
Kaelith glances at me. “It could work.”
Sorel rubs his jaw. “The problem is we don’t know which wagons carry guards worth questioning. A supply run might have hired swords who have never set foot inside the preserve. We need someone who’s actually worked the interior.”
“Then find one.” I turn from the map. “Can your contacts tell us which transports carry preserve staff? Guards rotating out, fae being taken to their new owners?”
“Maybe,” Kaelith says slowly. “It’ll take time to ask the right questions without raising suspicions.”
“You have two months.”
He nods. “I’ll start now, Eldráfn.”
The discussion shifts to logistics. Sorel suggests watching the roads directly, Vessara talks about how she’ll coordinate between villages, Kaelith says something about which contacts he’ll approach first.
I should be following this. Making decisions. Leading them.
But the Nightwild magic pulls at me, restless and insistent. It’s been like this since Therin walked her out of the door.
“—crossroads east of here? … Cairn? Are you listening to us?”
They’re all looking at me. I have no idea what Kaelith just asked me.
“Yes, I’m listening.”
“Then what do you think?”
The silence stretches for a beat too long. Kaelith and Sorel exchange glances. Vessara looks down at her hands. Vel’s eyes narrow.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re not hearing half of what anyone is saying.”
“I’ve heard everything.”
“No you haven’t. You’re barely present at all.” She comes toward me. “And I can guess why, because the entire inn heard you fucking her last night.”
“Vel—”
“Don’t. I spent years in a cage having humans use me however they wanted.” Her voice is hard. “And now you’re fucking her … the human princess who paid to hunt and kill you.”
The room goes very still. Kaelith finds something interesting on the floor. Sorel’s face turns toward the window, and Vessara doesn’t look up.
And it’s into that silence that the door opens, and Therin steps through.
My attention snaps to him. “What are you doing here?”
“About that—”
“Where is she?”
“She … ahh … she didn’t want to go.” He pauses. “She said she wants to stay.”
“Where is she now?” She’s supposed to be on her way back to the palace.
“She’s outside.” Therin’s mouth curves slightly. “Waiting for you.”
I’m out of the door before anyone can say another word, striding down the stairs and through the common room.
I see her the second I step outside. She’s standing beside the well in the green dress I left for her, the collar at her throat catching the sun’s rays.
“Therin tells me you’ve changed your mind.”
“Yes.” Her hands are clasped together in front of her, and she won’t meet my eyes.
“Why?”
She takes a breath. “I can’t go back to court and smile at people who mount fae heads on their walls.
I can’t make conversation with hunters who brag about their kills.
I can’t be the princess who doesn’t ask questions and can’t see what’s right in front of her.
” She lifts her chin. “I’ve seen too much.
I know too much ... and I can’t unknow that now. ”
Our bargain was that she could go free in return for giving me her body for the night. I thought I was offering her what she wanted, regardless of the danger it would put us in.
“You’re choosing to be hunted. To give up everything you’ve ever known. Your father, your sister, your home. All of it will be lost to you. Do you understand that?”
“Yes.”
“Do you, Alleria?” I step closer. “Because this isn’t a story where the princess joins the rebels and everyone lives happily ever after.
People are going to die, human and fae. We’re going to war, and war is ugly, brutal.
You’re going to see things that will haunt you for the rest of your life.
If you survive. Is that what you want? Is that what you’re choosing? ”
“I’m choosing not to be part of what my father’s kingdom does to your people.” Her eyes meet mine. “I’m choosing to stop pretending the hunts are sport and the preserves are a necessity. I’m choosing—” She swallows. “I’m choosing to be someone I can live with. Even if it kills me.”
The Nightwild magic hums at the edge of my awareness, reaching for her, wanting to bind her tighter to me.
I've spent weeks telling myself she's human, she's the enemy, she's nothing. The magic doesn't care. Neither, it seems, do I.
“You can’t fight. You can’t use magic. You have no skills that are useful in what we’re about to do.” I keep my voice cold, because letting her know that I want her to stay isn’t something I’m ready to do.
“I know.”
“You’ll have to learn to fight. It will be hard and painful, and you’ll want to quit every single day.”
“I know.”
“And if you betray us … if you run back to your father … if you tell anyone what you’ve seen … I will hunt you down myself. Do you understand?”
The words are brutal. I mean them to be.
She needs to know this isn’t a game, or some romantic fairy tale where the princess escapes the palace and finds freedom.
But even as I say it, I know it’s not the whole truth.
I’m not warning her because I think she’ll betray us.
I’m warning her because I need to be something other than what I was with her last night.
She doesn’t lower her gaze. “I understand.”