The Iron Sword (The Fae War Chronicles Book 1) (16 page)

Chapter 15

A
s I hurried toward the dining hall, I saw Ramel walking down the hallway toward me—but my pleasure was short-lived, as he was walking with Donovan and Emery, and anger clouded all three Sidhe’s faces. All three were dressed for travel, wearing short cloaks and heavy boots along with their swords. I glimpsed the sheaths of throwing daggers at Emery’s waist—a specialty skill of most Guards. And Donovan carried his bow, the string wrapped in an oiled cloth. I stopped, cautioned by their grim expressions.

“Ramel?” I said tentatively.

“Tess,” Ramel replied with a terse nod, not even slowing his pace.

“Ramel, do you know where I could find Guinna? Or Molly?” I asked, falling into step beside him. I had to stretch my legs to keep up with their strides.

“No,” he said shortly.

I felt my brow furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s been another attack,” Donovan replied.

“What?” I had to break into a jog briefly to keep up with the tall Sidhe men. “Is anyone…” I trailed off, grimacing as my sword banged against the outside of my knee.

“One dead, and perhaps another,” Emery said in his cool voice.

My heart jumped painfully in my chest. “There’s someone wounded?”

“Yes.”

“Queen Mab is sending out a company to escort the knights back,” Donovan said. “A company made up of both Guards and Knights.”

“Ramel,” I said, “if there is a Sidhe still alive that has been hurt by—”

“Tess,” Ramel said sharply, “you should go back to your room.”

“What?” I felt as though the air had been punched out of my lungs. “But—I can help, maybe I can save the wounded!”

“It’s too dangerous,” Ramel said, taking my arm and pulling me to the side of the passageway. He motioned for Emery and Donovan to continue without him. “Go on, I’ll catch up in the stables.”

“Too dangerous?” I repeated stupidly.

“Yes, Tess,” Ramel said, raking his fingers through his auburn curls in agitation. “This wasn’t like the other attacks. It was close, and it was brutal. Any venture outside the keep’s walls is dangerous. The Queen has issued sanctuary to all those living outside Darkhill.”

“What does that mean?”

“All those loyal to the Unseelie Court have leave to seek safety inside the walls of the Lady’s Keep,” Ramel replied. He put his hand on his sword-hilt.

“Does that include the trooping Fae?” I asked, unable to help myself.

Ramel gave me a strange look. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

I shrugged one shoulder, knowing with a sinking feeling that I wouldn’t be able to lie to Ramel. He knew me far too well for that. My best bet was probably just evasion of the question. “I was just…wondering.”

“And why were you just wondering?” Ramel shook his head. “Tess, please. For your own good, if you know something…”

I took a deep breath. Ramel didn’t have as much influence with the Queen as Guinna, or perhaps Molly, but he had earned my trust. “All right.” I glanced around and lowered my voice. “There was a glow that came to me in Sionntalam, right before it all started. He was the first Fae that I knew, and I thought he was a dream at first. But he told me to urge Molly to accept the summons in the letter from the Dark Queen. I even saw the letter, after that. And then…in the fight with the
garrelnost
…” I stopped. If I told Ramel about Wisp’s involvement in the fight with the
garrelnost
, telling me how to use iron, I would have to tell him my part in the fight.

“Go on,” Ramel said quietly.

I trembled a little at the thought of speaking my closely guarded secret aloud. In the weeks since my arrival at Court, I’d learned in leaps and bounds, and one of the greatest things I had learned was that it was best not to attract the attention—and anger—of powerful beings in Faeortalam. “You have to swear,” I said finally, “that you will not tell this to another living soul.”

“By the Tree, Tess,” Ramel swore, “it’s that bad?”

“It’s not bad,” I said, hearing the tremor in my own voice, “it’s just very dangerous.”

“Dangerous to whom?” Ramel said, pressing me closer against the wall of the passageway.

“To me,” I whispered.

Ramel closed his eyes for a moment, and then when he opened them he gazed at me and said, “I swear on my honor that I will not tell another living soul what you are about to tell me now.”

I nodded and swallowed, gathering my thoughts. “When we were attacked by the
garrelnost
, just before I was brought through the gate…this Glasidhe, Wisp is his name, he got in my head. He told me how to use iron against the Fae, and…” I paused. Ramel waited patiently, his gaze never leaving my face. I had to look down for a minute before continuing on, his look was so intense. “I killed the
garrelnost
,” I said finally. “Finnead didn’t kill it. Well…he put his sword into it, but only after I shoved a horse-shoe into its eye. I think…I think it would have hurt Finnead badly, if Wisp hadn’t been in my head telling me what to do.”

Ramel let out his breath in a long, slow sigh. He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “You know, Tess, I don’t think anyone really understands your true capabilities.”

I brushed aside his comment. “That’s not important right now. The point is, I pretty much owe my life to Wisp. If the
garrelnost
had hurt Finnead, it probably would have killed both Molly and me. And Wisp came to see me this morning.”

“Here? In Darkhill?” Ramel showed little surprise, just intense concentration as he followed my story.

I nodded. “Yes. And he told me that the Glasidhe had been attacked. Their stronghold, he called it the Three Trees, he said it had been destroyed. Burned.”

Ramel’s grip on my shoulder tightened. “You’re sure of this, Tess?”

“Yes, Wisp told me himself. I offered to help him and his kin, and they said they would help me in return.”

Ramel shook his head again, a slight grin touching one corner of his mouth. “Tess O’Connor, slayer of
garrelnosts
and protector of the Small Folk.”

“He helped save my life,” I pointed out. “He’s a brave little fellow.”

“I know. Wisp is one of the most trustworthy Glasidhe that I know,” Ramel said. “He’s served the Court for many years, and he’s never failed us.”

“So shouldn’t something be done?” I asked. “The trooping Fae have been attacked.”

“And so have we,” Ramel replied gravely. “As much as the Small Folk deserve our help, no one will be able to help them if the Courts fall.”

“The Seelie Court has been attacked too?” I asked, Wisp’s words about Titania rising to the front of my mind.

“Worse,” Ramel said grimly. “Word has come from the Seelie Court. Their Queen is…not herself.”

“Ramel,” I said slowly, “when I was first brought here, when I was still healing, I had…dreams.”

He nodded. “To be expected.”
“No.” I shook my head. “You don’t understand. These dreams…they felt like…
visions
.” I felt a bit foolish saying it out loud, but Ramel didn’t laugh.

“And what did you see?”

“A beautiful woman…now that I’ve seen Mab, she reminds me of her, but
brighter
,” I said carefully, brow creased in thought. “She had hair so golden it was almost white, and the first time I saw her she was dressed in white before a group of Sidhe, speaking to them about something.”

“Did you hear what she was saying?”

I shook my head. “No sound. It was like watching a silent movie. And then I saw her again, in what looked like…a jail cell. She looked very sad. Distraught.”

Ramel rubbed his eyes. “Tess,” he said, “I don’t understand. Molly is supposed to be the important one, but you, you keep revealing these sides of yourself…”

I shifted from foot to foot, uncertainly. “I’m sorry if I should have told you sooner,” I said honestly. “I spoke to Allene about it, and she said that they could have been just dreams, or they could have been things that happened in the past, or will happen in the future.”

“Or are happening now,” Ramel said. “Look, I’ve got to go with the company. When I return, I’ll go to the Knights with what you’ve told me.”

“Let me come with you,” I said again, hating the desperation in my voice. “Please. I want to be
useful
.”

“You will be of no use to anyone if you’re hurt or killed,” Ramel said. I heard the undercurrent of worry in his voice. It reminded me, suddenly and strongly, of the many times that Liam had cautioned me against a certain course of action, telling me that he didn’t want me to get hurt, while he got to charge into the fray without any hindrance. I bridled.

“Look,” I said, “you may not believe it, but I can damn well handle myself.”

“You’ve had barely any training with a sword, when it’s all said and done, and you haven’t even
touched
a bow, and we haven’t gone to the stables at
all
,” Ramel pointed out. “I haven’t taught you how to fight with a shield, or to control a mount in battle, or what to do if your mount is killed.” He turned and began walking. “I don’t have the luxury of time, Tess. I can’t stay here and argue with you.”

I followed him. “Are you taking healers?”

“Of course,” he said over his shoulder.

“And they ride in the back of the company?” I asked.

“Yes,” Ramel replied slowly.

“Then put me in the back with them,” I said. “If there’s a mount strong enough, I’ll ride double. I don’t care. But if I can help save the wounded, you should let me come.”

He turned and faced me again. “Give it up, Tess. You are not ready. Not for this.”

I saw the hard resolution in his eyes and I knew that no matter how much I argued and how hard I tried to persuade him, he wouldn’t change his mind. So I stopped and forced myself not to look downcast. “Fine,” I said, working hard to iron out the waver in my words. “But when you come back, you’ll teach me archery, and you’ll take me to the stables, so that the next time a company rides out, I
will
be ready.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Ramel’s lips. “A hard bargain, but one I can accept.”

I held out my hand and Ramel clasped it in his huge, warm palm. Then he turned and walked quickly down the hallway. “Be careful,” I said softly, mostly to myself. I watched until he disappeared around a corner, swallowing hard against the tide of disappointment washing over me. Then I turned and started walking quickly back to my room. I had thought of a job for Wisp and his friends.

After a detour to the kitchens, where I picked up a loaf of bread and some cheese and a flask of wine—good, normal wine, not
vinaess—
I headed back toward my room. When I opened the door to my chambers, I expected to see Wisp and his companions ensconced on my bed or somewhere equally obnoxious, already taking over my living space. But, oddly, nothing seemed out of place. Even the little stick of charcoal that Wisp had used to sketch his destroyed home still lay on the makeshift map. Perhaps Wisp hadn’t returned yet—but I had taken enough time with my conversation and trip to the kitchens that I’d thought he would be back by now. The way he’d talked, I’d thought his companions hadn’t been far away.

I closed the door of the chamber behind me and set the food on my desk, carefully rolling up my sketched map and stacking the books on one corner of the desk. I sat down and picked a piece of bread out of the little cloth packet, idly nibbling one corner as I examined the map, studying the areas closest to Darkhill. There were a few pockets of forest, the Royal Woods being the largest, and a few rolling hills; but no mountains, no dense woods that would make it easy for the attackers to escape. To the North, the Edhyre Mountains were a good week’s journey from Darkhill, from what I’d heard Ramel say; and that was if the traveling party was mounted, and riding as if their lives depended on it. I put my sketch-map on top of the real map, and tried to think of the most likely avenues of escape for Malravenar’s raiding party. Then a chill skittered down my spine as a new thought struck my mind.

“What if it isn’t a raiding party?” I said softly to myself, mostly just for the comfort of hearing my own voice out loud. “What if this….what if this is it?” What if this was the beginning of the great battle that would decide the fate of Faeortalam? I felt suddenly and completely vulnerable as I thought of Ramel’s words. He was right, I realized. I only had been training with him for a little while, compared to the years of practice expected of a Sidhe squire; and even though we’d practiced for hours every day, I could only fend off his full-speed attack for a few desperate moments at most…and that was on a good day. I knew the basics of archery from high school gym class, and Liam had taken me shooting a few times, but gym class had been shooting at styrofoam targets with plastic bows and arrows. I was fairly certain that a Fae battle would be much, much more serious and deadly than neon-fletched arrows and bright bull’s-eyes on feather-light targets. I had only ever ridden once, at a county fair with someone else holding the horse’s bridle, and though I thought I could probably pick it up fast, I had no idea of the temperament of the Fae mounts.

I sat back in my chair and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, taking a few deep breaths and pushing down the panic bubbling in my stomach, threatening to overflow and froth up into my chest. I had killed the
garrelnost
, and I had kept that knowledge from Queen Mab. The panic receded a little. I took another deep breath and found another brick to build up my wall of defense against the feeling of vulnerability. My daily sword sessions with Ramel had made me sore at first, but now I was in even better physical condition than I had been when I was playing field hockey, with a new strength in my arms and back from wielding a blade. My stomach tightened a bit but the feeling of utter helplessness ebbed a bit. And then I thought of the greatest strength I possessed, the counterpoint to the Sidhe’s greatest weakness: I was immune to iron. With that, the panic faded, and although I still felt uneasy at the idea of being thrown into an epic battle for the fate of Faeortalam, I realized I didn’t have much choice in the matter. The workings of Faeortalam were far larger than me, and there was little I could do now that I was bound here by Queen Mab. I figured I might as well try to retain some of my dignity—or what little of it I possessed in this strange world to begin with—instead of being dragged into the fight kicking and screaming.

I shifted in my desk-chair and bent over the map, lighting the lamp after a moment of studying the parchment in the gathering gloom. How appropriate, I thought, that the rescue party would depart just as dusk was falling. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a quick little flash of glow, near the corner of my bed. I stood up hastily, almost knocking over my chair, my hand going instinctively to my sword-hilt. My heart jumped into my throat and then began racing like a horse out of the gate, galloping against the tender spot below my jaw.

“Tess!” said a small, familiar voice.