63. Dayton
63
Dayton
I ’ll be the first to admit I’ve been in some bad fucking situations before. Alone in the middle of the ocean with only a little dingy and an ancient kraken circling the boat? Check. Waking up butt-ass naked in a barn and having to sneak into the castle unseen on a festival day? Check. Facing down eight soldiers and a couple minotaurs in the Sun Colosseum while blindfolded? Check, check, and check.
But now I realize none of those moments had been bad at all.
Flames lick Farron’s paws. I’m terrified. All those other times, I was only trying to save my own dumb ass. But it’s not just about me anymore. Rosalina’s nearly collapsed on the ground, her body drained from wielding magic a human has no business being able to use. Keldarion’s gaze is faraway, mind completely muddled with drink. Ezryn charges toward the space where Caspian disappeared, despite the fact there’s no way to get to him.
And I have no idea what to do.
The world is a blur, movement I can’t stop. Goblins charge toward us from out of the thorn portal. Through the grove of trees encircling the ruins, I catch glimpses of torches and golden armor. The Autumn Guard approaches. The wolf swipes its massive burning paws at the ruined library and any goblin that dares to get within its reach.
“We have to help him!” Rosalina yells. Something about her voice snaps me awake.
She moves to dart toward Farron, but I grab her arm. “Rosie, no. He’ll never forgive himself if he hurts you.”
We’re dressed for sex, not a battle. Fuck, Kel is barely conscious. Funny to be on the other side of it for once. And a bit pitiful, realizing that’s how I’ve appeared a majority of the time. The High Prince of Winter will be no help to us.
Ezryn marches back to our group, pure rage radiating off him like waves of heat.
“Get them out of here, Ez,” I say. “I’ll handle this.”
“I’m not leaving Farron.” Rosalina glares up at me. “I’m not leaving you.”
It’s a stupid thing to do, knowing she doesn’t feel the same way. But fuck, this might be the last stupid thing I do. I grip her face and kiss her. She tastes like starlight and sun, and I know exactly what I need to do. “I’m going to keep him safe,” I murmur against her lips. “But I can’t do that with you here, alright?”
“Day…”
“Trust me, Rosalina. I won’t let him get hurt.”
Finally, she nods, and I push her into Ezryn’s arms.
Ezryn looks desperately between Farron, the approaching soldiers, and the goblins. Then he heaves Kel over his shoulder with one hand and grabs Rosalina around the waist with the other. His helm tilts upward to the keep visible over the treeline. To Rosie’s balcony.
A vine sprouts from beneath the palm of his gauntlet. It hurtles over the trees before twining around the balcony railing. With a quick tug, Ezryn tests the vine’s strength, then tightens his grip on Rosalina and Kel as he uses the vine as a makeshift grappling hook, swinging them up toward the balcony with all the strength and finesse he can muster.
Something in my chest relaxes as they all safely clamber onto the balcony.
Now time to assess my own fucked-up situation. Goblins still pile out of the portal, currently occupied by the raging beast. There’s no sign of that bastard Prince of Thorns.
We should have never trusted him. Attend his birthday party? Bullshit. It was all a distraction so the Below could attack the Autumn Realm. We planted a fucking gateway right into the heart of the city.
I am a fighter. I am a gladiator of the Sun Colosseum. I am the High Prince of the Summer Realm. And I need a fucking weapon.
I sprint toward the goblins. A few of them stumble, startled at my approach. I draw my fist back and punch one straight in the jaw.
It lets out a chittering moan before collapsing. Quickly, I grab its long sword made of thorns and a small wooden shield.
Better than nothing.
It couldn’t have come at a better time. Two goblins swing at me, but I easily deflect their blades. These creatures aren’t as wild as those who dwell in the Briar; they must be one of the Below’s special forces. Pieces of metal glint on their ashen bodies, and some clutch jagged steel weapons.
The goblins surround me. But this isn’t the first time I’ve been outnumbered in a fight. It just takes another tactic. Deep within me, I feel for the Blessing of Summer. It barely stirs, buried within my chest. The magic of Castletree is weak, barely able to reach me in Autumn.
Then it catches, sparks to life. A barrier of wind erupts around me, keeping the monsters at bay.
Still within the fray of the burnt library, the wolf rages, tearing at the goblins. He needs to transform back, but even the light of the full moon will not calm his raging, especially with a host of goblins surrounding him.
I need to get him out of here. Leading him away from the library will only take him deeper into the city. I pierce my sword through two unsuspecting goblins, then retreat behind a rotting piece of wood.
Opening the seashell at my neck to reveal the mirror, I angle it to create a portal back to Castletree. I’ll open a way home and force him through. Sure, a couple of wayward goblins might follow us, but I can easily dispose of them there.
Except nothing forms. No pool of light. I can’t sense the magic of Castletree. I can’t find the path home. Have our roses wilted?
Panic stutters in my chest, threatening to consume me. No, I remain a fae man. I can still feel the Blessing of Summer.
But I’ve been away from Castletree for too long; the magic is too weak to create the path between me and my home. I’ll have to figure something else out.
I close my eyes, allowing myself one more breath before I jump back into the battle.
Shredded goblins lie at the wolf’s burning feet, but even the giant beast is losing blood. There’s too many of them. They swarm Farron, poking and prodding at him with thorn-tipped spears.
Gold glitters at the edges of the library, and the goblins cry in terror. Soldiers’ shouts ring in the air. The Autumn Guard has arrived.
Many are on horseback, while others charge in on foot. Gleaming suits of armor, fashioned from interlocked golden leaves, adorn the valiant warriors. In their hands, they wield spears that cleave through the goblin horde with effortless precision, hardly halting their swift, synchronized maneuvers.
“Prince Dayton!” a guard calls to me. “What in the seven realms is happening?”
I can’t very well tell him we opened a door for Caspian to bring his army into Coppershire. So I lie my ass off. “I don’t know. I heard goblins and I think I saw the Prince of Thorns.”
The Autumn soldier nods, then flanks me as we take on another onslaught. These warriors are powerful, but will it be enough to stop the might of the Below?
Spears dart like lightning into goblin bodies. Swords slice through rotting flesh, and arrows whistle past my ears as they strike. An Autumn mage raises her arms. Enchanted by her magic, the trees enclosing the library spread their branches, making way for more reinforcements. Archers flood the ramparts and roof of the keep.
Black blood sprays like rain, screams filling the air as goblins fall under Autumn’s fury. We might win this. I glance over my shoulder; Farron tears a goblin’s head from its body. At least he’s currently helping with the problem.
“The big one!” one of the Autumn Guard calls, gesturing to the archers on the rafters. “Take it down.”
The archers dip their arrows, then raise them, now writhed in flame. They pull back, aiming straight at—
Farron.
Abandoning my position, I sprint toward the brown wolf, shouting at the top of my lungs. “Stop! Don’t shoot!”
They don’t hear me. Swift arrows of fire fly down, embedding in the wolf’s body. He snarls, and his eyes flash with pain. His focus shifts from the goblins to the golden soldiers.
“This creature isn’t a danger to you!” I yell as a soldier prods the beast with his spear. Farron swipes out a paw, sending the soldier flying.
“He’s not a danger as long as you don’t get too close!” I amend quickly, though I’m not too sure about that. The flames around him expand. What’s going to happen when he reaches the city?
“Oh fuck,” I groan. Where are you, Ez?
Soldiers surround the Autumn Prince. One aims a javelin.
“No!” Water explodes from my palm, flinging the soldier back.
Her javelin clatters to the ground, and she fixes her gaze on me, wide-eyed. “What are you doing, Prince?”
“Don’t hurt him! He’s—” Proclaiming that this monster is their bloody High Prince will not help Farron’s situation. Another member of the Autumn Guard shifts toward Farron, spear raised.
I move without thinking, blocking the soldier’s advance. I kick him away from Farron.
And unfortunately, right into the path of a goblin. The creature chitters delightedly, then drags a jagged knife across the fae man’s throat.
Shit.
Not exactly what I had in mind.
“You… You really are all in league with the Below,” the soldier on the ground gasps. Her words are loud enough, others look our way.
“No, that’s not true,” I say, backing up.
“You bear their weapons!” Another soldier points a condemning finger at me and my thorn sword. “Keldarion let the Prince of Thorns into the Winter Realm, and now you bring his monsters here!”
“No,” I shout desperately. “Just don’t hurt the wolf!”
The wolf which is right behind me, not an ounce of recognition in its blazing eyes. It swipes a massive paw and strikes me across the chest.
Pain explodes through me as I sail through the air, toppling over myself before I land in a bloody heap on the ground.
Blinking through blurry eyes, five goblins waver above me. “Quick timeout?” I croak.
One goblin arcs its toothed dagger—then pauses, mouth sputtering with black blood, as a long silver sword protrudes from its belly.
The sword retracts, there’s a swift whirl, and then all five of the goblins’ heads fall cleanly to the ground.
A gloved hand reaches down to pull me to my feet, and damn if I’ve never been happier to see the Prince of Spring in my whole life.
“Had to get your swords,” Ezryn says.
“Tardiness accepted,” I say. “Are Rosie and Kel okay?”
“Safe in her room.” Ezryn sheathes his own blade and grabs two short swords from his holster.
“My babies.” I reach for them. “I could kiss you, Ez. In a mostly platonic way. The metal throws me off a wee bit.”
But Ezryn is too still, and my attempt to escape the situation is short-lived, because I know what I’m going to see when I turn around.
Flames dance in the reflection of Ezryn’s armor. Farron is coming for us.
“We have to protect him, Ez,” I say finally.
“Farron made me promise that if he was ever out of control… I would stop him.”
Now it’s my turn to still. I look up at the Prince of Spring. “Yeah, because he’s an idiot.” I tighten the grip on my swords, and my voice drops to a low growl. “If you want to get to him, you’ll have to kill me first.”
For a moment, I wonder if he’s going to go through with it. Then he turns. “I’ll destroy the portal and stop the goblins from coming through.”
I nod at my brother. An understanding forms between us—we’ll fight to the death to protect each other, even if one of us is fighting for the death of us.
I rush into the fray, moving with more agility and precision with my familiar blades. A sudden, piercing howl rips through the air. Farron writhes in pain, body thrashing amid the goblin swarm and encroaching soldiers. I promised Rosalina I wouldn’t let him get hurt.
The horde of goblins descends upon me from all angles, but I meet them head-on, cleaving and hacking through their ranks with deadly precision, leaving a trail of mangled bodies in my wake. I push to Farron’s side, and my heart breaks at the sight of him.
The wolf is covered in goblin bites and scratches, his fur matted with blood. He looks up at me with pained, pleading eyes. Do you know I’m here?
Chaos surrounds us, but I crouch down and place a hand on his smoldering paws, even as the fire sears my skin.
“Fare, listen to me,” I say, voice shaking. “You need to remember who you are.”
Farron howls in agony as another volley of arrows pierces his skin. He thrashes, and I roll away, barely escaping a swipe of his paw. I’ve never been able to get through to him when he’s like this. What kind of idiot am I to think I could do it now?
But I can do what I’m best at, and that’s fight.
My world becomes a rush of blades. Soldiers, goblins, Farron. Fighting three enemies that all want to see your guts laid out and not hurting two of them shouldn’t be that hard, right?
I try not to harm the Autumn Guard anymore than I must. I focus on knocking them out—which is unfortunate because I could really use their help against all these bloody goblins.
Through the swarm, Ezryn hacks at the portal of thorns, chipping away at it piece by piece. Beyond him, smoke rises into the air.
The goblins are burning Coppershire.
“High Prince of Summer!” A commanding voice rises over the cacophony, and I whirl to see Princess Niamh in full battle regalia, surrounded by armored knights. “Where is my son? Why do I hear reports you are in league with fiends of the Below?”
“You don’t understand, Princess. You can’t hurt the wolf.”
“Tell me where my son is and lay down your sword, Daytonales.” Fury emboldens Niamh’s voice. “Or I will show no hesitation with mine.”
“I’m protecting him!” I shout. “We were cursed! This is your son!”
There’s no flicker of recognition in her dark gaze. She doesn’t believe me.
I drop my swords and close my eyes. I delve deep within myself, feeling for my wolf.
Farron may not know I’m here, but I’ll use every ounce of power to protect him. Even if it means revealing our greatest secret.
My body shifts, the golden wolf breaking free of my fae skin. The goblins scatter as I let out a ferocious howl.
Unfortunately, the massive brown wolf and Autumn Guard seem equally unimpressed. Princess Niamh and her knights stare at me in shock.
“I will not allow you to harm him,” I growl.
“You are a monster,” she hisses, drawing her sword. “What have you done with my son?”
A sickle-shaped claw slices into my side. The brown wolf opens its jaws, teeth gnashing at my soft underbelly.
“Trickery of the Below!” Niamh’s voice careens through the air. “Take it down! Fire!”
Arrows pierce my flesh. It’s too late. She already thought Keldarion was a traitor, now she believes we all are.
Distantly, I see Ezryn abandon the portal, but there’s a huge cluster of goblins between us. And the bastards, seeing I’m mortal, push aside their fear and attack.
Soldiers, goblins, and a beast—their collective force is too overwhelming for me to face. But I have no choice but to try. Farron’s safety is vital, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him from harm. With a deep breath, I steel my resolve and charge the goblins, teeth and claws bared. A rusty sword whistles toward me, but I deftly dodge and sink my fangs into the goblin’s neck. The taste of its foul blood fills my mouth, fueling my determination. Yet, more goblins swarm around me, and every time I fend them off, the brown wolf lunges at my legs or the archers rain down another barrage of arrows.
The full moon loosens my hold on the beast. I’m so hurt, my body ripples, shifting back into a fae.
Naked and bloody, I land on my knees. The beast seizes the opportunity and claws my back.
It’s so deep, I can feel my blood seeping out of the wound like a waterfall.
“He’s defenseless,” the archers cry. “Fire!”
The pain of the first arrow in my chest is the worst, piercing deep, hard enough my head flings back. But my body must go numb because I barely feel the next two arrows that hit me, one in my gut, one in the opposite shoulder.
“This fate was yours to create, High Prince of Summer.” Niamh’s voice is cold as stone. “Whatever bargain you’ve made with the Below to gain such awful power shall rot away with you in death. I only hope your sister will be more responsible with the Blessing.”
I can’t stay up anymore, so I fall to the hard earth, landing in something moist. There’s enough vision left for me to realize what it is. A shaky laugh escapes my throat. I’ve always known I’d die in my own blood, but I thought it’d be on the sands of the arena. Never thought it’d be here in the Autumn Realm beside the man I love.
Now that’s a funny thought.
The wolf—Farron—stalks closer to me, and even if he’s the one who’s going to kill me, I’m glad he’s here. At the end of it all.