Chapter Twenty-Five
“Seren.” Killian reached for me.
“I can't right now, Kill. I've gotta go.” I laruked back to Tiernan, Killian's shocked expression the last thing I saw. But it was my daughter's face that would haunt me. Probably forever.
Tiernan and our convoy had arrived at the Basty village. He stood on the road, leaning against his cair, and staring at the black mound that was once a fairy village with the rest of our soldiers. So intent was he on the terrible sight that he didn't notice me right away.
I was grateful for that. I needed a few seconds to compose myself. Reassuring myself with the thought that I could laruk to Miri any time I wanted, I took a deep breath and let it out. Hearing me, Tiernan turned.
“Seren?” His expression, already grim, went concerned. “What happened? Did you not get there in time?”
“No, I got there.” I took another breath, but it was shaky.
Tiernan rushed around the front of the cair, put his arm around my waist, and led me forward. It took us closer to the village, but away from prying ears. With the black, glossy mass of Kabus looming before us, Tiernan pulled me into his arms.
I burst into tears.
“It's all right. We'll get her back. You can find her, remember? Why haven't you gone after them?”
“I let them go,” I whispered.
“What?” He leaned back to look at me. “Why?”
“Because Sever convinced me Miri would be safer on Earth.” I swallowed. “Away from me.”
“Seren, no. You can protect Miri better than anyone else .”
“But I'm not with her right now. I have to deal with this. And if an Angel is behind this, Miri could be their ultimate target.”
Tiernan's expression went blank and then slid into comprehension. “Dear Danu.”
“Yeah. That's why I let him take her.” My face crumpled. “Miri cried for me, T. She thinks I sent her away.”
“Mirielle will be okay, and she'll understand when she gets older.”
“Yes, but she doesn't understand now. All she knows is that she cried for my help, and I did nothing.”
“I'm sorry, Seren. We do what we must to protect our children. Even if it hurts them. It's a lot like being a monarch.”
“And we're lucky enough to get both jobs.”
“Multiplied, in your case.”
I laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “I'm so tired, Tiernan. Every time I think we're safe and I can relax, something else happens.”
“Again, that comes with ruling.”
“Can I change my mind about being Queen?”
He laughed. “I've thought of running away before.”
“Have you?”
“Of course. You, me, and Falcas living in a little cottage in Twilight. How wonderful would that be?”
“I could make jam.”
He burst out laughing. “The Destroyer making jam?”
The nickname wasn't a reference to my vast supernatural powers but to my lack of cooking skills.
I grimaced. “All right, I could buy jam.”
“Maybe you could learn to make jam.”
“And you could grow vegetables.”
“A farmer?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“Only for us. Just a small garden.”
“I could do that,” he whispered, sharing a wistful look with me.
It was probably horrid of me to appreciate Tiernan's pain, but it helped to know that he felt as I did. That I wasn't the only one with daydreams of leaving my responsibilities behind. But they were only dreams. I couldn't run away. There was nowhere for me to hide.
Then, in Tiernan fashion, he spoke the truth hidden beneath my whining. “You'd be so bored, my love. Don't you remember those peaceful years after the children came? When Anu asked you to return to working on Earth, you jumped at the chance.”
I laughed again, with more humor this time, and shook my head. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“Especially when you're a fairy.”
“Yes. And maybe I would be bored. But this is excessive. I need a happy medium.”
“A happy middle of a few incidents on Earth to keep life exciting?” He smirked.
“No, I don't wish for tragedy to stop my boredom. Honestly, with all of you, my life is full without work.”
“Are you saying we're a full-time job?”
I snorted. “Yes, absolutely.”
Tiernan chuckled. “Fair enough. But a fulfilling job, yes?”
“Absolutely.” I turned out of his arms. “All right. Enough wallowing. Those fairies are being tortured while I whine.”
“I don't think they're feeling anything.” Tiernan shifted his stare to the village. “But yes, it's time to free them.”
I stepped forward, leaving him behind, and summoned the Light. I needed to go slower this time. This was where the blight was first reported, and it was in the region where the Garden of Regret was located. I needed the blight to lead me to its source. It had to be close.
Tiernan and our soldiers followed me at a distance. I made it fifteen feet across the border of clear land between the village and the forest. Then the ground began to shiver.
“Seren!” Tiernan shouted.
I held a hand back to him, motioning for everyone to stay put. But I didn't look back. The blight held my attention, and I don't mean the darkness that covered the Basty village.
A chill swept over me along with a metallic smell.
Above me, the midday sky darkened, clouds gathering.
Out of the ground seeped puddles of oily blight, moving upward to take the shape of thorny vines.
I narrowed my eyes at this mimicry of my magic, but the blight didn't stop there.
The vines wove together into columns, forming legs, torsos, arms, and then heads.
People. No, soldiers. The darkness smoothed into armor, but the limbs peeking through remained a thick weave of thorn-covered vines.
The vines writhed within glossy helmets, thinning until the weave looked like flesh.
Faces appeared. Eyes staring blankly. Vine-hands lifted and extended into swords.
Then shields. Like flowers sprouting in a bed, they formed two lines to block my way.
And at the front of this blight army, another shape manifested—the King of Crybabies.
“You again,” I growled. “Thanks for the flowers, but I'm not looking for a boyfriend. Sorry, I had to burn them.”
“I will still welcome you, Queen Seren.” The Blight King opened his arms. “Come to me and let me cleanse you of pain. I will withdraw my Bramble Legion and release the Basty. Just give me your royal emotions.”
Bramble Legion. Yes, I liked that better than calling them thorny vines. Brambles. That was perfect—annoying shrubs with vicious thorns that grew out of control if you let them. That being said, they usually produced berries. Maybe the soldiers were the fruit.
“Not happening.” I didn't wait for King of the Berries to continue his villain speech.
I just summoned the Light and sent it forth in a tidal wave.
As one, the King and his warriors set their shields before them.
In the Middle Ages, the style of shield the Bramble Legion used was called a kite.
Its elongated form protected the whole body, the tip going down to the ground, where it could be planted for leverage.
These warriors planted their shields in a more literal way, the tips merging with blight tendrils that seeped up from the ground to hold them steady.
Light brightened to block the black for a moment. When it cleared, I expected the King and his legion to be gone. They were not.
I gasped, seeing their empty hands. As I watched, fresh shields formed before them. “Impossible,” I whispered. I had blasted an entire village clear without issue. How had their shields protected them? Light should have burned through and kept going. But somehow, darkness had survived.
A shiver ran down my spine.
“So be it,” the King of the Blight said. “I will have you soon enough. Willing or unwilling, your pain will feed me.” He held up a fist. “Briar warriors! Bring me the King and Queen of Seelie!” And then he sank into the soil like the poison he was.