CHAPTER 4
Queen’s Cliff belonged to no one. It never had.
Not even to a queen. Mostly because no one wanted it.
An old haegtesse, who wished to be left alone, claimed it for a time and chiseled out a fortress at its pinnacle.
Its name came from the queens and kings who paid her handsome amounts of gold to watch and report threats from the northern seas, back in a time when giant dragons—and the more cunning smaller varieties—were a danger.
Easiest money I ever made. Royals are fools, the hag was reported to say after she collected her debts.
But for centuries now, the dragons mostly stayed in their northern isles, tucked in the icy caves, preferring their own company to fae, and once the hag’s value disappeared, so did she.
Some said she was eaten by the beasts she had spied on, but others said she only moved on with the great chest of gold she had accumulated to find more gold elsewhere.
Being adjacent to Queen’s Cliff, the Fomorians mostly claimed it now, but no one cared. It wasn’t a destination spot on anyone’s list, as Sashka proclaimed, until Kasta hushed her.
The squad hovered offshore, waiting for Dalagorn to determine the exact landing spot, based on their old maps. They gazed at the towering rock rising up in the middle of the Mirthless Sea like a hungry siren. A headdress of ghostly clouds floated above her, and a bloom of forest skirted her middle.
Rose’s upper lip lifted in disdain. “Hard to believe anyone could live on that dreadful thing.”
“Which makes it the perfect place to hide someone,” Julia replied.
Avery pulled in a deep breath, like she was preparing to dive into something that was way over her head. Maybe it was.
Bristol’s heart skipped. We trained for this, she thought. She tried to remember that they were all here because they wanted to be, but guilt still nagged at her that Rose had almost died at the hands of the demon her mother had summoned. That her whole squad might—
“This way,” Dalagorn said softly, cutting off her thoughts, and he signaled for them to follow. They landed on a flat, rocky ledge just below the tree line. The northern winds whined through the forest above them, and Bristol’s hair whipped across her face, the icy air biting her cheeks.
She looked north, far across the sea, and made out the distant islands of Tattersky—realm of the dragons.
Ribbons of purple clouds drifted over the islands.
They appeared peaceful, and yet only giant dragons and the banished avydra lived there—power-hungry shape-shifters like Pengary, who burned and ate a queen and her children.
Still, for a brief moment, Bristol wished she were there instead of on this rocky mountain that seemed void of any life at all.
When viewing through the magical smoke, Cully and Quin had only seen two guards at the fortress, but like Rose, Bristol couldn’t imagine even one person living here. How Cael had survived, she wasn’t sure.
At Kasta’s silent signal, they dismounted and the team moved forward in precise formation single file, eight feet apart, weapons drawn, each shedding their veil of invisibility once they entered the forest. Here, they would need every power available to them.
The wind hissed through the twisted pines, masking their footsteps.
It was hard to gauge their progress because all they could see around them were the thick trunks of trees, and the forest undergrowth of ferns and ruffled fungus, and the occasional holly bush with thorns so long they could run a person through as sure as a knife.
There wasn’t even the sound of creatures or birds in the trees, just the whine of the wind, but when they took a turn a low, menacing rumble vibrated through the air. Kasta raised her hand, and they all froze. An animal? A storm? Dalagorn’s ogre stomach?
There was a loud rustling, the sharp snap of a twig, and the trees to Sashka’s right shook violently.
Before the knights could react, the earth cleaved in two, and a churning sandpit opened up near Sashka’s feet.
It reached out, grabbing one foot and then the other, slamming her to the ground and pulling her under. Sashka didn’t even have time to scream.
Avery reacted just as fast. “Grab my legs!” she yelled to the others, and dropped to the side of the pit, reaching in, her head, shoulders, and chest disappearing.
Tyghan, Bristol, and Julia pounced onto her legs, gripping them as they lengthened, twisting into long, sturdy vines.
Avery disappeared deeper into the pit, her trunk thrashing back and forth like she was waging a great battle beneath the sandy surface.
Olivia saw the commotion and ran back down the trail toward them and pulled a vial from her bag.
She poured it into the sand as she chanted a sleep incantation.
Almost immediately, the sand stopped churning and the tug-of-war eased.
Avery’s legs rapidly shortened again, and she emerged from the pit, Sashka firm in her grip, both of them gasping for air.
Quin, with his arms of steel, yanked them both clear.
The two lay side by side on the forest floor, their chests heaving.
“Fuck,” Sashka said, still gasping for breath. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
A nervous laugh shook Avery’s chest. “I didn’t either.”
Olivia knelt beside them, rubbing balm on the bloody nicks on their faces and hands. Tyghan knelt beside them too. “Well done, Avery. You two need to go back? Or can you go on?”
They both pulled themselves to their feet in reply, looking like bad-ass weathered soldiers in their torn clothing. “Onward,” they said.
“I never thought I’d be so thankful for those drills,” Rose whispered.
Silently, Bristol agreed.
They continued without incident, though all of them were hyperalert.
When they reached the last twisting climb that led to the fortress, the forest thinned.
There was no more cover. From here, only Kasta, Cully, Hollis, and Olivia would proceed under a veil of invisibility, but Hollis would venture the deepest, because, as a mouse, she could slip up the last narrow path and beneath the door of the cells to determine exactly which one Cael was in and who, if anyone, was guarding him.
And once in her mouse form, even an unexpected ward couldn’t reveal who she actually was.
Kasta carried the sleeping hare in a bag on her shoulder, ready to switch their proxy for Cael.
If necessary, Quin, Julia, and Dalagorn would provide distraction to draw away the guards, and lastly, Tyghan, Avery, Sashka, and Bristol would keep the exit route clear and help whisk Cael back to the horses waiting on the plateau.
Rose was their eyes in the air, already circling in her hawk form to report anything suspicious.
But first, everything hinged on what Hollis found.
Kasta, Cully, Olivia, and Hollis disappeared up the steep rocky trail, while the rest of them maintained their positions, waiting for word.
Minutes passed. Then more long minutes. Tyghan shook his head.
Bristol searched the sky. Rose still circled, nothing apparently amiss.
Tyghan finally waved Rose down and motioned to Quin to move forward, to check on Kasta and the others.
The trail swallowed him as he climbed out of sight.
Rose landed near them and transformed.
“What’s taking them so long?” Tyghan asked. “Did you see anything?”
“I saw Hollis go in, and, a few minutes later, Kasta, Cully, and Olivia followed.”
“Guards?”
“No. Nothing.”
“Maybe Olivia is having trouble with the proxy,” Bristol suggested.
“Or Cael,” Tyghan said. “We’ll wait a little longer—”
And then Quin came stumbling down the trail, and everyone ran to meet him.
“They have them,” he whispered in breathless starts. “A troop of warriors. Kasta, Cully, Olivia,” he gasped. “They’re all pinned to the ground, crossbows at their backs. Cully’s bleeding with a bolt in his shoulder, and Olivia’s out cold—or dead.”
Dead? The only thing that knocked Bristol out of her shocked state was Quin’s next words.
“And one of the warriors is dangling Hollis by her tail, ready to feed her to their hounds.” Quin wrenched Tyghan away from the group and whispered even lower.
The only words Bristol heard were “She’s there with them!
It’s time! You have to use Keats! They’re about to die! ”
The sound of Quin’s desperate voice saying her name, curdled beneath Bristol’s skin, but it was even more frightening to see Tyghan’s face when he turned to look back at her, his eyes cold steel.
He drew his knife and came toward her. His steps were methodical, determined.
He pulled her close with his free hand, the knife still clutched in the other, and whispered just as desperately as Quin.
“You know I love you. I would never hurt you. But I need you to be afraid right now. Very afraid. Fight me. Hate me. But trust me, please, or Hollis will die. They all will.”
And with that, he spun her around, holding the knife to her throat, and dragged her up the trail. “You’re going to be our hostage.”