Chapter 34
Take the Steel
Chyr
M
ist coils along Loch Seil’s calm surface, and the night is chill. After the hour spent outside with Flora, I miss the sun and the warmth all the more, but Flora comes to life in the moonlight, magic shining from her.
We ride single file, silent save for the rhythm of hooves and the creak of leather, our way lit by scoutlights and the glow of the swelling moon. Rua threads through the woods above us, her tail low, and the Shadehounds pace behind Flora like soundless shadows.
The wind brings the scent of smoke now and then. Beneath the thick plaid she has pinned around them, Flora’s shoulders tense every time. Her attention shifts from the woods to the hills or the trail ahead as if she hears things that we don’t.
A mile out from the camp beneath the beacon site, she stiffens in the saddle, and Eira flattens her ears in response. Up ahead, Ronan gives a soft whistle and halts under a cluster of slender birches. The Shadehounds melt up the slope, and we all dismount.
Bent nearly double, Ronan ghosts forward, a dark shadow slipping between pale trunks until he’s out of sight. The rest of us crouch where we are, our swords already out, until he comes back to report.
“Six humans and a Grey,” Ronan says. “Likely a picket of sentries for the camp. If that’s the case, there will be at least that many in the camp itself, and likely another group of sentries farther on.”
“Did they hear us?” Flora whispers.
“No sign of that. Which doesn’t mean they can’t be waiting for us.” He turns to me. “How do you want to do it? You stay here with her, and the rest of us go? We can’t risk having her taken.”
“I’m right here, and I make up my own mind about where I go and who with.” Flora tips her head back to glare at him. “Also, it’s pointless for us to split up. The men are down on the track. We can cut higher on the hillside and get past them. Can any of you muffle the sound of the horses?”
Lorcan gives her a dismissive smirk. “Leave the soldiering to the adults, love. We can’t risk leaving the enemy at our back—we could end up trapped between several Greys.”
“Killing those soldiers and the Grey yesterday is what brought the extra sentries here. But I doubt whoever’s in charge knows a Rider was involved, or they’d have sent even more men by now. That will change if you take out more Greys. Vheara’s troops will start hunting you here in earnest.”
“We would be clear on the other side of the loch by then,” Daire says.
Flora’s silver-gold eyes turn to steel. “A signal beacon can outrun any horse. They’ll have more than enough time to have an ambush waiting for us.”
“We can kill them before they fire the beacon,” Daire says, pulling his hair back and refastening it in a tighter braid behind him.
I shake my head. “The men have amulets with fire runes.”
“Going around the camp reduces our risk,” Flora adds. “Why give them more reasons to look for you here—or to retaliate against the clans?”
Lorcan bounces on his heels, eager to go. “You don’t know Vheara if you think all the clans aren’t due for retaliation already,” he says. “Especially in Ehrugael.”
He turns to me, expecting me to side with him. And he speaks for all three Riders. They prefer action, and Flora’s caution will never sit well with them.
In the end, it’s a strategic decision, not an emotional one. I have no choice.
Aware of the Riders watching, I offer Flora what small measure of comfort I can.
“Your reasoning is sound, Flora, but Lorcan isn’t wrong either. Our best chance to save lives is still to get back to Tirnaeve. Every Grey we kill now is one we don’t have to worry about later.”
Flora holds my eyes briefly, then turns to the other Riders one by one. Finally, she drops her chin and shrugs. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”
I give her a nod of appreciation and make a quick decision. Although Ronan is not the best of fighters, he’s our best scout by far. I could use his expertise, but I can’t trust Daire not to goad Flora into something rash. And I don’t trust Lorcan with her at all.
“Stay here with Ronan in case there are more of Vheara’s troops behind us or scattered in the wood.”
“There aren’t.” Flora’s tone is confident, but the set of her chin suggests she doesn’t intend to explain.
Her power is growing, and I’m pleased because we need it—she needs it. That doesn’t change the fact that she’s more dangerous—and in more danger—until she understands and embraces what she’s becoming. And every secret she keeps pulls her farther from me.
“You’ll watch over her?” I ask, sidling close to Ronan.
He nods, and the Shadehounds fall back to Flora’s side as I slip off the track up into the trees, motioning for Daire and Lorcan to follow.
“I’m surprised you’d leave her alone with Ronan.” Lorcan throws me a sharp-eyed glance.
“Shut it,” I snap. “Focus.”
“I’m only saying I don’t think I would in your shoes,” Lorcan drawls. “You can see he likes her. Who knows what she can talk him into doing?”
We slip into the trees, and I swallow down a flash of irritation.
Lorcan’s the hardest to predict of all the Riders.
He’s played the dangerous flirt too long, armoured in the careless cruelty that some women mistake for charm.
It took me years to realise that cruelty is the most honest thing about him.
When it comes to having our backs, I trust him without question.
With others, though, he’s calculating and patient, content to study his prey until he identifies their deepest fears, their greatest vulnerabilities. Then he’ll sweep in for the kill.
I’ve seen the cold gleam in his eye as he watches Flora. Maybe I should have realised that spending time alone with her would only make him more determined to save me from her. Whether he’ll decide that requires seducing her or killing her, I can’t be sure.
The trees thin on the hillside above the picket sentries. We use the cover while we can as we position ourselves above the enemy. The moonlight is faint, but various power runes that Daire’s sister has given him glow along his jaw and throat as he activates the spells within them.
“Try to save your magic if you can,” I say, not surprised when my voice sounds inside my head instead of being audible. Daire has runes for each of the Riders that let us communicate with him and each other.
His answer returns to me the same way. “We’ll need to deflect their attention from what’s happening around them to keep them from activating the fire amulets before we’ve killed them all.
And I need to silence the fight so we don’t alert the camp.
It would be far easier if we had some way to block the amulets, but since we don’t know exactly how those work…
I don’t think we can risk assuming that anything we try would block the magic. ”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Lorcan says. “If the amulets are tied to a particular signal fire, whoever is creating them must be close enough to have been at that site. Here, in other words.”
I glance from him to Daire. “There’s no other way to do it?”
“There are always other ways.” Daire shrugs. “But it would take a runesmith with more skills than most.”
“You think Vheara has Greys that good?” I ask.
“I think the better question is why she would waste runes that powerful on a beacon fire in the back of beyond unless she was expecting us to pass this way,” Lorcan says.
We all fall silent as we consider that.
We descend the slope towards the group of sentries. There’s no doubt that Flora’s presence will change the dynamic among the Riders in ways I’m only beginning to calculate, but it feels good to have Daire and Lorcan beside me again as we move to attack.
It’s a familiar rhythm, stalking our prey, setting the trap, snapping it closed.
I’ve missed their swords at my side and those moments when the power runes allow us to hear each other’s voices in our minds.
I’ve missed them, and this is the first time I can admit to myself how much I feared that I would never see any of them again.
A Grey and six soldiers—four men and two women—are hidden among the trees below us, a few feet uphill of the drovers’ track along the loch.
The spot is well-chosen for an ambush on anyone passing by.
Escape to the front and rear is easily blocked, and a narrow strip of bog on the loch side of the track will prevent escape in that direction.
The Riders and I use the same advantage against them.
Daire activates another rune to let us communicate silently with each other. Then circling ahead, Lorcan blocks the route to the nearby camp. I will hold back to cover the rear and keep them from retreating towards Ronan and Flora. Daire will drop in directly above them.
“Ready.” Lorcan’s signal is a whisper in my mind, and Daire echoes, “Ready.”
I give the order to go.
We spring the trap, and I signal that the Grey is mine. My gut tightens, my mind sharp in that moment of anticipation when the enemy is an unknown quantity, and I don’t know what sort of magic I might face.
The Grey raises his hand as if for an elemental attack, his ashen skin seeming to absorb what little light the moon provides.
I surge forward, my sword swinging. The eerie eyes with their strange, colourless irises widen in panic, and the mouth opens to scream, but his head falls silently to the ground.
Two of the women have their swords drawn and circle towards me. I’m good at killing, but I don’t enjoy it. I’ve seen too much death in the past year, and I can’t help wondering whether these soldiers would fight for Vheara if they had a choice. Is it na?ve to hope they wouldn’t?
I give both women a quick, clean death, then hunt down a man who tries to escape into the trees.