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Authors: Jocelyn Fox

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BOOK: The Dark Throne
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“Well, he’s my brother, so I had extra motivation,” I replied with a smile. “And Luca commanded our vanguard. Your congratulations should go to him.”

“Humble as ever, Lady Bearer.” Elwyn’s eyes flashed in amusement. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I should see to my fighters.” She turned her
faehal
’s head and disappeared among the ranks of warriors.

“Come ride with me, Tess.” Vell beckoned. Nehalim drew even with her mount, and I waited expectantly. The
vyldretning
said to Gray, “Ensure the messengers are sent to the other queens. We must remain vigilant for the return of our last vanguard.”

“Yes, my queen,” replied Gray, her beautiful face still glowing with the joy of battle. She wheeled her mount and rode down the ranks.

Vell watched her go for a moment, and then turned back to me. “Leading an army is difficult work.”

“I think that’s an understatement,” I said, my eyes traveling over the countless ranks of warriors stretching to either side of us and behind us. “And from what I’ve seen, you’re doing just fine.”

“Finnead’s experience would greatly help,” she said. Then she looked at me. “Are you glad he’ll be back with us soon?”

“Yes,” I replied, and then I paused. “Although I’ve been thinking. A lot.”

“Only thinking?” Vell tilted her head to one side, her gaze settling on Luca and then traveling back to me.

“Only thinking.” Oddly enough, I wasn’t irritated at Vell for bringing up the question. “Although thinking is more than enough, sometimes.”

“You sound like your thoughts trouble you.”

“I don’t want to be a cliché,” I muttered. “Letting my heart affect my head when we’re in the middle of a war.”

“Nonsense,” said Vell firmly. “There’s no law that says you can’t find love even in the most dangerous of places.”

I looked down at the barren earth beneath Nehalim’s hooves. Vell waited. Finally I said, “I thought I’d already made my choice. But there’s so many things going on right now…I’m afraid, to be honest. I’m afraid that if I let Finnead go that I’ll lose him, but I don’t want to lose Luca either. We’re heading into a battle where anything could happen. How terrible is that, not wanting to make a decision because I don’t want one of them to die?”

“You don’t want
either
of them to die,” corrected Vell, “and it’s not terrible. It makes sense. But here’s another thought.” She looked at me perceptively. “What’s worse, not living fully because you’re afraid of loss, or losing both of them because you’re afraid to live fully?”

I winced. “I’ll need another minute to wrap my mind around that.”

Vell smiled. “I’ve seen my share of death and destruction, and so have you. There’s no reason not to seize every moment we have left…with whomever you want.”

I thought of Finnead, the raven’s-wing sheen of his dark hair and the stormy blue depths of his eyes, the feel of his arms around me, all we’d shared and suffered together during my time in Faeortalam. “You know…one of my brother’s friends, he suggested that maybe Finnead still views me as a damsel in distress who needs his protection.”

“I can’t say if he views you as a damsel in distress, though I think…the idea has merit,” said Vell thoughtfully, “but to that I would add…perhaps Finnead has known you for
too
long. Has his perception of you changed as you have changed?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.” We rode in silence for a moment, the sounds of the great army drifting around us. “I do know, though, that Luca views me as an equal. He teaches me as he would teach any other fighter. I appreciate that.”

“It is a unique quality in
ulfdrengr
men. They are not so constrained by tradition or courtesy,” said Vell with a little smile. “Though your brother seems to hold many of the same views.”

“It looks like you two had a lot to talk about,” I said with an answering smile.

Vell drew her shoulders back and sat up straight in her saddle, exaggerating her regal posture. “Even when facing the end of the world, Lady Bearer, one must appreciate handsome, intelligent men who can wield a sword.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively at the last phrase.

“I really don’t want to talk about my brother wielding any sort of metaphorical sword,” I said, wrinkling my nose. Vell gave a very unqueenly snort of laughter and turned the conversation to other topics as we rode onward, the sun sinking lower in the western sky, our great army pressing toward the poisoned lands ahead.

Chapter 33

“A
re you sure you want to try this?” I raised my eyebrows at Liam. “Two battles today, and two visions, too.”

“I’ll just try it on my own if you don’t teach me,” Liam said, raising his eyebrows in return. “Does that remind you of anyone?”

I smiled and shook my head. “Using my childhood words against me. Not fair.”

“Completely fair, if it gets my point across.” My brother grinned.

We stood in the center of the Wild Court camp, our shadows long in the gathering dusk. The return of the western vanguard had happened much the same as the return of the southern: a Valkyrie messenger, riding hard; the army leaping forward, pouring over the flat Deadlands, engulfing the Dark force surrounding Finnead and Calliea’s warriors. Killing the Dark creatures surrounding them had felt much the same as earlier in the day. It was all beginning to blend together, the shrieks and shouts and scent of blood in the air, dust churned to gory mud beneath the hooves of dancing
faehal
. The force pursuing the western vanguard had been larger than the one earlier in the day, but it was still no match for the leagues of Sidhe warriors. In that second battle, though, we’d lost a few warriors. Their pyres still burned behind us, and their names now gleamed on my blade.

“What’s on your mind?” Liam crossed his arms.

I sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’re my sister. I should know when something is wrong.”

I pressed my lips together. “Let’s finish this first, and then we’ll talk.” I stretched out my hands. “Okay. For me, when I call my
taebramh
, I visualize it as white fire. I feel it in my chest, so that’s where I see myself drawing it from, and it flows down my arms, like that…” My war-markings sparked to life as a ripple of
taebramh
flowed down their intricate curves. “Before I had my war-markings, I just thought of it sliding down to my fingertips. But only a little bit, like a spider’s thread.”

Liam narrowed his eyes in concentration, and a small bluish glow appeared at his fingertips. I smiled.

“And then you have to direct it. Think of what you want to do, visualize it in your head, and let it respond to your thoughts.” I wove a ball of light as I’d done during our journey through the northern wilds, tossing the softly glowing sphere into the air.

“You make it look easy,” muttered Liam, brows drawn together. Slowly, his
taebramh
swelled into a small circular light.

“Make sure you don’t let it continue to draw power from you,” I cautioned. “It’ll go out eventually, but it’s safer that way.”

With a flick of his wrist, Liam sent his small sphere up to hover next to mine. I grinned.

“Are magic lessons over?” Quinn asked, looking up at the floating lights.

“I think I still have a lot to learn,” Liam replied with a chuckle, watching as his light sputtered and then regained its steady glow.

“To be fair, I’ve been here a lot longer than you have,” I said.

“Also true,” allowed my brother.

I wove a few more lights and tossed them into the air, illuminating the area around the main tent and throwing into relief a figure busily drawing on a board. After a moment, the fighter placed the board on the ground and sketched a rune in the air. Flames leapt from the board and quickly gained height, burning brightly without any other wood.

“That’s handy,” said Quinn, raising his eyebrows.

“Thea knows some very useful runes,” I said. “She works with Chael in the forge. I’m guessing we’re running low on fuel for the fires.”

The shorthaired smith gave me a respectful nod as she stood and surveyed her handiwork.

“Might as well move these lights to a different part of camp,” I said, mostly to myself, wrangling my globes of light with a thread of
taebramh
. Liam followed me, not bothering to capture his flickering little sphere.

“So what’s bothering you, Bug?”

I used the time it took me to reposition the lights to think. “Well. Aside from everything else…Finnead’s vanguard returned and I’d expected at least an acknowledgement from him.” The sinking-stone feeling swirled in my stomach again; it had been lingering since the second skirmish.

“You thought there would be a joyful reunion?” My brother settled down onto the ground and patted the dirt beside him. I lowered myself with a sigh, repositioning the scabbard of my plain blade.

I hesitated. “Maybe not
joyful
. But something.”

“He’s the one that Luca saved, when they were in our world.” Liam leaned back on his hands.

“Yes.” I gave another sigh. “He’s told me that he loves me. So I guess I thought that he’d actually be happy to see me.” I winced as the moment replayed in my head: the dust settling from the second battle, Calliea’s
faehal
landing near the High Queen, the Laedrek sliding from her steed with a brilliant grin, bloody and triumphant; Finnead dismounting, pale and stoic, and bowing to Vell. I’d stepped forward, eagerness surging through me, a smile spreading unbidden across my face. He’d seen me, I’d felt the gaze of his drowning-blue eyes as surely as a physical touch—but then he’d turned away, speaking to Vell in an urgent low voice. Vell, her High Queen mantle firmly in place, had listened seriously, gazing down at Finnead from her mount.

“There were many things happening at once,” my brother said, “but you’re right, that doesn’t excuse him from at least acknowledging you.”

Shortly after the horn had sounded to remount our steeds, Finnead had finished his intense conversation with Vell, and galloped down the line toward the Unseelie banners. I’d caught Vell’s eye, brows drawn in confusion; but the High Queen had given me a little shake of her head, an apology in her eyes.

“He’s so hot and cold,” I growled in frustration. “One minute he’s professing his love, and the next he’s telling me that we need to set our personal feelings aside to focus on our mission.” I threw one hand into the air, and pushed away the little voice in my head whispering that perhaps
I
was the one being hot and cold now. Why else would my stomach feel like I’d just jumped off a cliff? “He wants to be a gentleman and safeguard my honor and all that ridiculous stuff.”

“Tell me how you
really
feel,” chuckled my brother. He sobered at my frustrated look, and then reached out, draping an arm around my shoulders. “Maybe it’s not so ridiculous to him.” He paused. “Look, Tess, you may be a legendary warrior in this world, but you’ll always be my Bug. If you want my advice, I’ll give it to you.”

“Of course I want your advice,” I said in exasperation. “Everyone
else
has been giving me advice without asking.”

Liam pulled me closer. I laid my head on his shoulder and sighed.

“Sometimes you love someone, but they’re not ready to love you back in the way you deserve,” my brother said in a quiet voice. I closed my eyes. “And maybe
you
don’t feel the kind of love that you’re looking for toward him, either. It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. It’s just
life
sometimes.” We sat in silence for a long moment.

“How am I supposed to know if it’s the kind of love I want?” I whispered miserably. My brother tightened his grip on my shoulder, giving me a hug.

“I can’t answer that one for you, Bug,” he said, “but what I can say from personal experience is that…if something’s too up and down, if you’re riding a crazy rollercoaster, that’s exhausting. Rollercoasters are fun for the first few times around, but they’ll make you sick if you keep riding them.”

I smiled a little. “Is that a reference to Hershey Park?”

Liam chuckled, his shoulder moving under my cheek. “Sure it is. You made Dad ride the newest roller coaster five times in a row, and then
I
had to go with you when he tapped out.”

“It
was
a pretty awesome roller coaster, though,” I said.

“Until I threw up after the fourth time riding it with you,” Liam said dryly. I smiled and straightened.

“Thanks,” I said softly.

“What are big brothers for?” Liam raised his eyebrows.

“Other than falling through portals into other worlds and having visions of the future?” I retorted. He smiled.

“Do you mind if we join you, Lady Bearer?” Calliea approached us, holding up a plate bearing a couple of loaves of bread, pieces of cheese and
kajuk
.

“I don’t see anyone else with you,” I said, “but of course.”

“Merrick’s coming, he just had to finish a task for the Queen,” Calliea said, folding her legs gracefully. She squinted up at the sphere of light floating overhead. “That your handiwork?”

“Yes. Might as well do something useful,” I said with a smile. “Calliea, this is my brother Liam. Liam, Calliea. She was one of my healers after I crowned Vell.” I held up my scarred palms in demonstration.

“Tess always forgets to say that she saved
my
life first,” said Calliea, mischief dancing in her eyes as she offered the plate to Liam and I. At this point, even the stale bread tasted decent. I wondered idly if I’d ever get to have a good meal again; and then I blinked, startled by the insidious thoughts of mortality drifting through my mind.

“Seems like Tess takes humility to a new level,” my brother replied.

I snorted. “I think that’s a bit of the pot calling the kettle black.”

Calliea wrinkled her nose. “Your mortal metaphors are very counterintuitive sometimes. Why compare yourselves to pots and kettles?”

“I have no idea,” I replied seriously. Liam chuckled. We ate in companionable silence for a moment, and then Merrick emerged from the Queen’s tent. He ran a hand through his hair as he walked toward us, trying to neaten his disheveled appearance.

BOOK: The Dark Throne
3.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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